Wife And Mother Forever

by Lucy Gordon

  Her personal life was less tidy. Andrew was growing disgruntled at the feeling that he didn’t come first with Evie. She knew she could save the relationship with a huge effort. But then what? Marriage, which she’d always avoided? Just how hard did she really want to try? She wished she knew the answer.

  Tonight he was taking her to dinner and she had discarded jeans and boots in favour of an elegant blue dress and a necklace of filigree silver. She stayed at her desk for a couple of hours after school, catching up on paperwork until Andrew called for her. She was just finishing when Justin Dane walked into the classroom.

  She could feel his anger before she saw it. It was like watching a volcano preparing to erupt.

  ‘So much for deals,’ were his first words.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You made a deal with my son, a young man of his word, according to you. He was to stop playing truant.’

  ‘And he has. He’s been here every day since. I’ve seen him.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘Yes, this afternoon. In fact, he did a particularly good piece of translation. I’ve just finished marking it-here.’

  She pulled the book out and showed him.

  ‘Then where is Mark now?’ he asked in a tight voice.

  ‘He didn’t come home?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Perhaps he went out with friends?’

  ‘He isn’t allowed to just go off like that. Either Lily or I must know in advance.’

  ‘Are you saying that he’s wandering around alone?’ she asked, horrified.

  ‘I don’t know. I wish I did. Where did you find him last time?’

  She scratched her head. ‘I know where it is but I didn’t notice the name of the road.’

  ‘OK, you can take me there.’

  His casual way of giving her orders made her grind her teeth and say, ‘Since you seem not to have noticed, I am about to go out on a date.’

  ‘How could I have noticed?’ he asked, puzzled.

  ‘Because I’m dolled up,’ she said, indicating her dress and make-up. Unwisely, she added, ‘I don’t dress like this unless I have to.’

  Incredibly his lips twitched. ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Mr Dane, I’m sure this will come as news to you, but I do have a life. I don’t just sit here waiting for you to give me orders.’

  ‘So you won’t help me?’

  ‘I didn’t say that, but “please” would be good.’

  ‘All right. Please. Now can we get going?’

  She looked at her watch. Andrew would be here soon. She guessed how he’d feel if she put him off, but she couldn’t shut out the memory of Mark’s unhappy face and the miserable hunch of his shoulders.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘But I don’t have long, and I must make a call first.’

  She dialled Andrew on her cellphone and was relieved when he answered.

  ‘Darling, I’m going to be a little late,’ she said. ‘Can you leave it for an hour?’

  She heard him sigh. ‘An hour then.’

  Justin’s luxurious car was waiting in the school yard. For a while, on the journey, neither of them spoke. Evie remembered Mark saying that his father had asked a lot of questions about her. He’d described some of the questions, but how many others had there been?

  She took a cautious look at Justin’s profile, which was set and hard, otherwise she would have called it attractive, with a sharply defined nose and a firm chin. A good man to have on your side in a fight. Otherwise, steer clear.

  ‘So, tell me everything that happened,’ she said at last.

  ‘I called home and asked to speak to Mark. Lily said he wasn’t there and she didn’t know where he was. Just like last time.’

  ‘So you immediately blamed me.’

  ‘I thought you might have some ideas.’

  ‘I don’t know why we’re going back to this road,’ she said. ‘He’s hardly likely to be there a second time.’

  ‘Unless there’s something nearby that attracts him. A cinema, a shop?’

  ‘It’s a tree-lined street. And so are all the others near it. What’s the matter?’

  She had noticed him grow suddenly alert, slowing the car and looking around him at the passing streets.

  ‘I know this part,’ he said. ‘We used to live here.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘About three years ago. Is this where you saw him?’

  ‘In the next road.’

  He turned into the street where she had seen Mark slouching along, but, as she had feared, there was no sign of him.

  ‘Where was your house?’

  ‘Another five minutes,’ he said tensely. ‘The next turning, then the first on the right.’ He was turning the car as he spoke.

  ‘There he is,’ Evie said quickly. ‘In the cemetery.’

  Of course, she thought. His mother must be buried here.

  Justin was drawing over to the kerb and getting out. She hurried to catch up with him and together they climbed the few stone steps to the raised ground where the graves were laid out.

  Something made the boy look round as they approached and it was Evie he saw first. His face brightened and he took a step towards her.

  ‘Hallo, son,’ Justin said.

  The child checked himself before turning obediently to his father and there was nothing in his face but blankness. It was enough to stop Justin in his tracks. Evie clenched her hands, hoping he wouldn’t berate his son, but he only turned away with a shrug that would have suggested helplessness in anyone else.

  Evie took her chance, walking up to Mark and speaking quietly so that Justin couldn’t hear.

  ‘You know,’ she said, trying not to sound too heavy, ‘this isn’t playing fair. You promised me, no more playing truant.’

  ‘But I’ve been at school,’ he said quickly.

  ‘Don’t split hairs. No truancy means no vanishing after school either. No forcing us to chase around after you, and sending your father grey-haired with worry.’

  She thought she saw a smile of disbelief flicker across the child’s face.

  ‘I just like being here,’ he said.

  ‘Had you been here the other night, when I caught up with you?’

  ‘Yes. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Show me.’

  He took her hand and led her deep into the cemetery, which was old-fashioned with elaborate Victorian graves and mausoleums. Grass and trees made the effect charming rather than bleak.

  Once she looked over her shoulder and saw Justin standing where they had left him, at a distance, watching them, motionless, isolated.

  They wandered on for a while.

  ‘Your mother’s dead, isn’t she?’ she asked.

  A nod.

  ‘And is she buried here?’

  A shake of the head. Then, ‘But she ought to be,’ he said so quietly that she wondered if she had heard properly.

  ‘What do you mean, Mark?’

  ‘Nothing. I suppose we’d better go back to Dad.’

  Justin was still standing in the same place, watching for their return. For a moment Evie had an impression of uncertainty, but that must be an illusion caused by the distance.

  ‘Are you ready to come home?’ he asked Mark as they neared.

  Quickly he looked up at Evie. ‘Are you coming with us?’

  ‘I can’t. I’m going out tonight and I’m late already.’

  ‘Please,’ he said.

  Beside her she could sense Justin turn to stone, waiting for her reply.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘But I can’t stay for long.’

  Mark’s face broke into a smile of relief. Justin relaxed slightly.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said briefly, indicating the way back to the car.

  Mark grabbed hold of her hand and almost dragged her along, making sure that she got into the back seat with him. Justin started up the car without a glance at them.

  Nobody spoke during the journey. Mark kept hold of her hand and
seemed content simply to have her there. Evie was glad of anything she could do for him, but she was beginning to be alarmed. This child barely knew her, except in class, yet he clung to her as though she were his saviour.

  She didn’t know what he wanted to be saved from, but the glimpse she’d had of his lonely life had filled her with dismay. And something told her there was worse to come.

  Lily opened the front door for them.

  ‘Miss Wharton’s really hungry,’ Mark said quickly.

  ‘I’ll go and see to supper,’ she said, and vanished.

  Mark gave a violent sneeze.

  ‘I hope you haven’t caught cold,’ Evie said.

  ‘I’m all right,’ he said quickly, and vanished after Lily.

  ‘I hope you can stay with us long enough for supper at least,’ Justin murmured.

  ‘I’d better make a phone call.’

  Andrew’s voice, when he answered, was revealing. It had a subdued exasperation that told her he’d been expecting this.

  ‘I’ve got a situation here that I can’t walk away from,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Another one?’

  ‘Darling, that’s not fair,’ she said, and sensed Justin looking quickly at her. ‘I didn’t ask for this to happen-’

  ‘You never do. Things just happen to you. Evie, did it ever occur to you that your life is too crowded? Maybe you need to junk a few things, starting with me.’

  ‘You mean break up?’ she asked, aghast.

  ‘Isn’t that where we’re heading?’

  ‘No, no,’ she said frantically. ‘I don’t want to do that. Please, Andrew, it’s too important to decide like this-’

  ‘Sure, let’s put it off for a while so that you can keep me dangling at your pleasure.’

  ‘Is that really what I do?’ she asked penitently.

  ‘I can’t believe that you really don’t see it. C’mon, Evie, be brave. Say you don’t care about me-’

  ‘But I do care about you. It’s just that tonight-please be patient. I’ll call you again tomorrow, and maybe we can fix something-’

  ‘Yes, sure we will. Anything you say.’ The line clicked.

  ‘Andrew-Andrew?’

  She stared at the phone, trying to understand that dear, gentle Andrew had hung up on her.

  ‘Did he give you a hard time?’ Justin Dane asked.

  ‘I can hardly blame him,’ she said edgily. ‘Wouldn’t you be annoyed?’

  ‘Probably. You sound as though you’re leading him a merry dance.’

  ‘You’d have hung up long ago,’ she said.

  But he surprised her by giving her an odd look and saying, ‘Maybe not.’

  She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she had no time to brood on her own problems now. Only Mark mattered. She couldn’t forget how he’d brightened at the sight of her, or how quickly he’d said she was hungry, an excuse to keep her here.

  ‘All right,’ Justin resumed in a businesslike tone. ‘You’re entitled to an explanation, so I’ll make things clear.’

  ‘Not now.’

  He stared. ‘What?’

  ‘What Mark needs now is for us all to sit down to supper and be friendly-or at least act friendly. Explanations can come later. Then I’ll tell you what I want to know.’

  From his frown she guessed that this wasn’t how people usually treated him. And she seemed to have the gift of reading his thoughts, for she could follow the lightning process by which he worked out how to turn this to advantage.

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Then if you’ll have supper with Mark I can do some work.’

  ‘No, you can have supper with us,’ she said firmly. ‘How often do you and he eat together?’

  ‘Not often, but I have things to do.’

  ‘Indeed you have, some more important than others. The most important is to be with your son.’

  His lips tightened. ‘Miss Wharton, I’m grateful for the trouble you’re taking for Mark, but this is not your decision-’

  ‘Oh, but it is. Let me make it clear to you how much my decision it is. If I can give up my evening for your son, so can you. Either you agree to be there for supper, or I’m leaving, right now. And you can explain my absence any way you like.’

  Now he was really angry. ‘I’m not in the habit of being dictated to, in my own home or anywhere else.’

  She was too wise to answer. She merely followed her instincts and met his eyes. Anger met anger. Defiance met defiance. Mark, returning, found them like that.

  ‘Lily says she’s laid supper on the terrace,’ he said. ‘Shall I tell her you’re coming?’

  For a moment she thought Justin would refuse and walk out. But at last he smiled at his son.

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Lead the way.’

  Mark instantly took Evie’s hand and almost dragged her out on to the terrace overlooking the garden. It was a pleasant place with red flagstones and wooden railings, expensively designed to look rustic. Here a wooden table had been set for supper.

  The meal was excellent-spaghetti, well cooked, expertly served; fish, coffee made to perfection.

  ‘So, let’s hear it,’ Justin said to his son when Lily had left them. ‘Why did you vanish tonight and worry everyone?’

  ‘Oh, leave that until later,’ Evie said before the boy could reply. ‘Mark’s the thoughtful type, like me. Sometimes we like to have a little time on our own, away from the crowd. There’s nothing wrong with that.’

  ‘I only-’ Justin began.

  ‘I said “enough”,’ Evie interrupted him. She spoke lightly, determined to keep the atmosphere pleasant, but she knew Justin understood her meaning.

  ‘I was telling your father about the last piece of work you did for me,’ she told Mark. ‘A really good translation.’ She turned to Justin. ‘He’s one of my best students. You should be proud of him.’

  ‘If you say he works hard, I am proud of him,’ he replied.

  She wanted to yell at him, Try to sound as though you mean it. Say something nice without freezing, or sounding as though every word has to be wrung out of you.

  Instead, she said, ‘According to his regular teachers there are other things to be proud of. They say Mark is always the first to volunteer, to help out. He’s a good team player.’

  Justin seemed a little taken aback by this, and Evie realised that being a good team player probably didn’t rank high in his list of priorities. She was sure of it when he grunted, ‘Well, I guess that can be useful too. What do you mean, his regular teachers? Aren’t you regular?’

  ‘No, I’m just a fill-in for one term. Then I’m back to my real job, translating books.’

  ‘You’re not staying?’ Mark was crestfallen.

  ‘I never stay long anywhere,’ she admitted. ‘I like to take off into the wide blue yonder. There’s always new places to travel. I’ll be going back to Italy before the end of the year.’

  ‘Where?’ he asked at once.

  ‘Travelling all over, studying dialects.’

  ‘But I thought they all spoke Italian.’

  ‘They do, but the regions have their dialects which are almost like different languages.’

  ‘How different?’ he wanted to know.

  ‘Well, if you wanted to say, “Strike while the iron’s hot” in Italian, it would be, “Battere il ferro quando ’e caldo”. If you were Venetian you’d say, “Bati fin chel fero xe caldo”, and if you came from Naples you’d say, “Vatte ’o ’fierro quann’ ’e ccavero”.’

  ‘That’s great!’ Mark said, thrilled. ‘All those different ways to say one thing.’

  ‘But what’s the point?’ Justin asked. ‘Why don’t they all just speak Italian?’

  ‘Because a regional dialect springs from the people,’ Evie explained. ‘It’s part of their history, their personality. It’s their heritage. Don’t you care about your heritage?’

  His reaction startled her. His face seemed to close, like the door of a tomb, she later thought. After a moment’s black silence he
said, ‘I just think one language is more efficient.’

  ‘Of course it’s more efficient,’ she conceded. ‘But who wants to be efficient all the time? Sometimes it’s more fun to be colourful.’

  ‘I wouldn’t get far running a business on that theory.’

  ‘The Italians aren’t a businesslike people, thank goodness,’ she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘They’re delightful, and full of life and music. All those things matter too. Who wants to be efficient all the time?’

  ‘I do,’ he said simply.

  Evie and Mark exchanged glances. Justin saw them but said nothing.

  ‘Will you send me postcards from Italy?’ Mark asked wistfully.

  ‘Lots and lots of them, from everywhere.’

  He began bombarding her with questions which she answered willingly. Justin seemed content to sit there and listen, except once when he said, ‘Take a break from talking, Mark, and eat something.’

  His tone was pleasant enough and Mark stopped to take a few mouthfuls. Evie took advantage of the moment to look around the garden, and saw a dog walking towards them, followed by five puppies, who seemed about six weeks old.

  ‘That’s Cindy,’ Mark told her. ‘She belongs to Lily. They all do. And there’s Hank. He’s their father.’

  A large dog, part Alsatian and part something else, had appeared around the side of the house, accompanied by Lily bearing food bowls. She set them down on the terrace, returned to the kitchen and came back with more bowls. Under Evie’s fascinated eyes the family converged on their supper, the five pups diving in vigorously.

  They finished quickly, then looked around for more to eat. Cindy, evidently knowing the danger, had cleared her bowl fast. Hank seemed less well prepared, for some of his food was still there and the smallest pup advanced on him purposefully.

  The huge dog began to snarl horribly, revealing terrible great teeth. Undeterred, the pup went on towards the bowl, while his father hurled warning after warning.

  ‘Shouldn’t we rescue that little creature?’ Evie said, beginning to rise.

  But Justin laid a hand on her arm, detaining her.

  ‘Leave them,’ he said. ‘It’s all right.’

  ‘But Hank will devour the pup in one mouthful,’ she protested.

  ‘Nothing will happen,’ he said. ‘It never does.’