Sleepless Nights

by Anne Weale

  She said, ‘We had wine and sandwiches. Neal wants me to spend some time with him tomorrow, Mum. From about nine till three. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Of course it is, dear. I liked him very much. Why didn’t you tell me you’d met someone special?’

  ‘It’s just a friendship, Mum. It’s no big deal. Did you mention Matthew when you were talking to Neal while I was changing?’.

  ‘I don’t think so. I can’t remember. Haven’t you told him about Matthew?’

  ‘Not yet. Weren’t you watching a film until you heard the front door?’

  ‘Yes, but it was a load of rubbish. I’d rather talk to you.’

  ‘I’m tired. Can I get you anything before I go up?’

  ‘No, I think I’ll come up too. I’ve got a nice library book I want to finish. You do look a bit worn out. You don’t want shadows under your eyes tomorrow.’

  Back in his room at the hotel, Neal switched on the TV and tuned in to CNN News. He poured himself some more wine and began to undress for the second time that evening, this time hanging his clothes up. Then he relaxed on the bed, the pillows stacked behind him.

  But although he was watching the screen and part of his mind was taking in the world news seen from the US angle, he was also thinking about Sarah and her difficult situation as the sole support of her mother.

  It had been no more or less than the truth when he told her the difference in their ages was a matter of indifference to him. But whether his family might share Sarah’s concern was hard to say. After the anguish they had suffered over Chris’s marriage and his subsequent death, Neal didn’t want to cause them any further anxiety.

  Then there was the aspect of her past that Sarah was still holding back. Every time they made love, he was reminded that she wasn’t being totally open and honest with him. That worried him. It seemed to mean that she didn’t trust him.

  Perhaps she would tell him tomorrow. If she didn’t, he would have to tell her that he knew she had had a child. They couldn’t go on any longer with her past a no-go area.

  Lying in the bath, the next morning, Sarah resolved that today she would put all her cards on the table. If, in doing so, she put Neal off her, that was a risk she must take.

  If he saw their relationship as a pleasant affair that might last for some time but not for ever, then what had happened in the past wouldn’t matter to him. But if he was beginning to be serious, and there were times when she thought he might be, then his reaction was less predictable.

  And Matthew’s reaction to Neal was even more of a wild card. Thank goodness he wasn’t at home at the moment. But it wouldn’t be long before he was back. And she was fairly certain he wouldn’t share her mother’s attitude to Neal. Even Mum’s attitude could change. She had always been easily influenced. If Matthew took against Neal he could easily convert his doting granny to his point of view.

  Sarah dressed and made up with care. With a plastic apron over her best outfit, a classic round-necked suit of fudge-coloured gabardine, she prepared her mother’s lunch. The parts that needed heating would only take a few minutes in the microwave.

  Mrs Anderson had spent years cooking traditional meals for a husband who wouldn’t touch ‘foreign muck’ or salads. After his death, she had given up cooking, leaving it all to Sarah who tried to provide them both with a balanced diet But her mother’s sedentary life and weakness for fancy biscuits conspired against her losing weight.

  Sarah was watching from the lounge window when she saw Neal’s car pull up outside their garden gate.

  ‘He’s here, Mum. I’ll see you later. Cheerio.’ She gave her mother a quick kiss and hurried to the front door.

  Neal was at the gate as she closed it behind her.

  ‘I thought, as it’s fine, we might drive into the country and go for a walk,’ he said. ‘Are those shoes all right for walking?’

  She had dressed for lunching at his hotel which was a weekend rendezvous for the town’s well-to-do people. She never wore very high heels, but the shoes she had on weren’t ideal for a country ramble.

  ‘I’ll bring some flat heels. I won’t be two minutes,’ she said, wanting to stop him having another tête-à-tête with her mother until later on, when he knew all the circumstances of their family life.

  ‘Bring a coat as well. You might need it over your suit,’ he suggested, remaining by the gate.

  When they were both in the car, he leaned over and kissed her. ‘Good morning. You’re looking very smart.’

  ‘Only by contrast with the travelling gear you’ve seen me in so far. I thought it was time I brought out my other persona...the efficient businesswoman,’ she said, smiling. ‘Where are we going? You didn’t tell me you knew this part of the world?’

  ‘I don’t, but the hall porter does. I told him I wanted to stroll with someone who might not be keen on footpaths through fields of cows. He’s given me directions for a river walk. I missed you last night.’ He took one hand off the wheel, reached for one of hers and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘I would have liked to stay,’ Sarah admitted. ‘Neal, I have things to tell you...things I should have told you before.’

  ‘Wait till we get there. Then I can give you my full attention,’ he said.

  She was fairly sure where they were going. It was one of the region’s beauty spots: a stretch of quiet-flowing river with low hills in the background. If that was their destination, it would be a strange twist of fate that brought her back to a place where once she had walked with someone else important to her.

  Neal parked the car on the outskirts of a village. ‘According to my directions, if we cut down that lane we’ll find ourselves by the river,’ he said.

  Sarah changed her shoes and put on the shower coat she had brought. ‘Could I put my bag in the boot?’ she asked.

  ‘Good idea.’ He unlocked it for her.

  When they reached the footpath, the pale wintry sunlight was making the river gleam and a moorhen was paddling about among the sedges by the far bank.

  ‘Nice spot,’ said Neal. ‘Which way shall we go? Left or right?’

  ‘Right,’ said Sarah.

  ‘You’ve been here before, I expect?’

  ‘Yes, but a long time ago. I was still in my teens the last time I came here.’

  He took her hand in his. ‘What is it you want to tell me?’

  She swallowed, her throat dry with nervousness. ‘I’ve never been married...but I have a son.’

  Neal’s fingers tightened on hers as if he guessed it was difficult for her to talk about it. ‘What happened to his father?’

  ‘He was killed on his motorbike. His name was Matt. He was the boy next door. I’d known him all my life, but my father didn’t approve of him. Dad didn’t approve of most people. He was a difficult man who ruled us like a Roman paterfamilias. What he thought and said was law.’

  ‘What was Matt’s particular crime?’ Neal asked.

  ‘Being young and perhaps a bit wild...but no more than most boys of that age. Like me, he was an only child and his parents adored him. His father paid the down payment on his bike and his mother bought him black leathers. But he wasn’t the spoilt brat that Dad made him out to be. He was remarkably unspoilt. Everyone liked Matt.’

  ‘And you loved him,’ Neal said quietly.

  ‘Yes, I thought he was wonderful. When Dad stopped him coming round to see us, it made me very unhappy.’

  ‘Did your mother disapprove of Matt?’

  ‘She liked him, but she never disagreed with Dad. She was afraid of him,’ Sarah said bleakly.

  ‘Were you?’

  After a pause, she said, ‘Yes. I was glad when he died...glad Matthew didn’t have to grow up in that atmosphere. I’ve come to terms with it now...the fact that I hated my father. But when I was young I felt terribly guilty about it.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ said Neal. ‘How did you and Matt manage to get together if your father wouldn’t have him in the house?’

  ‘We
met when he was on duty or away from home. He was away quite a lot, at conferences and things. Sometimes I slipped out at night, after Mum was in bed. I didn’t like doing things by stealth, but I couldn’t see why I shouldn’t have the fun other girls were enjoying. Then one night, when I wasn’t with him, Matt had an accident.’

  She could speak of it calmly now, although it would always hurt her to think of Matt’s life snuffed out when he’d hardly begun to live.

  ‘He was in Intensive Care for three days. Then he died. Perhaps it was better that way. He had terrible injuries to his legs. I wasn’t allowed to see him. The whole street—apart from my father—was upset by his death. So it was all right to have red eyes. Mum had them too...all the women we knew were crying for him.’

  ‘Oh, Sarah!’ There was a world of compassion in Neal’s exclamation. He drew her close and hugged her. ‘How old were you when this happened?’

  She leaned against him, grateful for his understanding. ‘I was seventeen...nearly eighteen. Two weeks after Matt’s funeral, I missed my period. We had only made love a few times and Matt said it would be all right but somehow it wasn’t. For six weeks I lived in terror of what Dad would say when I told him. I considered running away. But I had nowhere to go and I knew what could happen to girls who left home without any money. So I sat it out until my shape started changing. Then I had to tell him.’

  She straightened, withdrawing from his arms, her face calm. ‘By then I was fairly sure that he wouldn’t throw me out because it would make him look bad in the eyes of his colleagues. I was right about that... but, oh, God, the explosion of anger! After that, he ignored me. For the rest of his life, he never spoke to me. Even when I came out of hospital with Matthew, it was as if we didn’t exist. Not many people can resist a new baby, but Dad did.’

  ‘It sounds to me as if your father was mentally disturbed,’ said Neal. ‘Whatever was wrong with him was probably curable, but the diagnosis and treatment of mental illnesses wasn’t as good then as now.’

  ‘There’s one more bad thing I must tell you,’ Sarah said heavily. ‘Some years after his death, there was an enquiry into the alleged mistreatment of people held at the police station where he worked. He was implicated. I’ve sometimes thought that perhaps he vented his angry feelings towards me by being brutal to people brought in for questioning.’

  Neal put both hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s all long over and done with. I’m glad you’ve told me. I knew you were holding back something. I knew that you’d had a child.’

  ‘You knew? How could you know?’

  ‘There’s a very faint line of pigmentation running down from your navel to your mons veneris. It would have appeared in the early stages of your pregnancy. In some women it fades completely after they’ve given birth. In others it’s always detectable. I noticed it the first time we made love.’

  Sarah digested this. ‘You must have thought me very devious,’ she said, in a low voice.

  ‘No...I guessed that you’d been through some trauma you would only confide to someone you trusted without reservation. I’m glad we’ve reached that point.’ He bent his head and brushed a kiss on her forehead.

  ‘It’s not a very pretty story. I didn’t want to put you off me,’ she admitted.

  ‘Why would it do that? You were a victim of circumstance. It wasn’t your fault that you were debarred from enjoying all the normal teenage pleasures. If Matt hadn’t been killed, you would most likely have married and lived happily ever afterwards. You would be here with him, not me.’

  ‘Yes, possibly. Except that I’m not sure I loved him in the way that lasts a lifetime. It was probably only calf love.’

  ‘Is Matthew like his father?’

  ‘Yes, in looks he’s the image of him. But not in temperament. Matt hated school and left as soon as he could. Matthew is clever. He went to university.’

  ‘Where is he now?’ Neal asked.

  ‘The last time he sent us a postcard, he was in a place called Coyhaique in Patagonia. He said he would be home for Christmas. He left home last New Year’s Day to spend a year seeing the world. It’s been a long year for us...for Mum and me.’

  ‘He’ll have had some marvellous adventures. He’ll talk your ear off for days,’ Neal remarked, smiling.

  ‘I expect so.’ She paused. ‘But I don’t think he’ll be too pleased to find that I’m in a relationship with someone who’s only seven years older than he is. He’s twenty-nine, Neal. He’s closer to your age than I am.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘HAS he reacted badly to your other relationships?’ Neal asked.

  ‘There haven’t been many. They were both a long time ago and very short-lived. He wasn’t aware they happened.’

  ‘Are you saying that he thinks his father was and remains the only man in your life?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘In that case, if he loves you, he must be concerned about you. It’s unnatural for any woman not to have a man in her life. For one as lovely as you are, it’s crazy.’

  ‘I don’t think children, even grown-up children, are ever very comfortable with the idea of their parents’ sexuality,’ said Sarah. ‘Especially not sons with their mothers. They see them as mothers...not as women.’

  ‘Maybe, but sooner or later they have to adjust that perception. I’m sure Matthew is mature enough to want whatever is best for you.’

  ‘I hope so,’ she said uncertainly.

  ‘What does he do for a living?’

  ‘He hasn’t quite got to that stage yet. He has a good degree...good enough to get him a place on a couple of grant-aided postgraduate study courses. He went on building up his qualifications until he was twenty-five and then he looked for a job. But he couldn’t get what he wanted. There were too many equally well-qualified people chasing too few vacancies. He’s had various temporary jobs, but none of them with the prospects he feels entitled to. Hence his present “sabbatical”. We’re hoping the situation has improved since his last stint of job-hunting.’

  ‘What’s the field he’s interested in?’ Neal asked.

  ‘He wants to go into politics...not as a Member of Parliament but behind the scenes. It’s a difficult field to break into...’

  She stopped short of adding ‘unless you have contacts at Westminster who can pull strings for you’ in case Neal should think she was hoping he might know powerful people.

  ‘Why is he attracted to politics? Is he an idealist? Does he want to change the world for the better?’

  ‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Sarah asked.

  She couldn’t be sure, but she thought there had been a faint edge of sarcasm in Neal’s questions. Any criticism of Matthew, even implied, made her spring to his defence. Perhaps it was a universal maternal reflex. She knew her son wasn’t perfect. But when other people were critical of him, instinctively she defended him.

  When Neal made no comment on her answer, she went on, ‘Matthew’s hero at school was the head boy. It was Guy who inspired him to try for a place at university. Guy is now in his middle thirties. Last year he was appointed principal private secretary to the Prime Minister. If anyone wields power and influence, he does.’

  ‘I’ve read about him,’ said Neal. ‘It’s always been the faceless men in government departments who exert the real power. Political parties come and go, but the civil servants hang in there and continue their manipulations with a new set of puppets.’

  ‘You’re very cynical.’

  ‘I’ve met quite a lot of power-mongers...the politicians and their so-called servants. With some exceptions, they’re not the cream of the human race. Maybe, when Matthew comes home, you’ll find his aspirations have changed. Seeing the world often has that effect.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Already she had a sinking feeling that Matthew and Neal were not going to take to each other.

  ‘How did he raise the money for his trip?’

  ‘When he couldn’t get a foot on his career ladder, he decided to look for work which p
aid well because not many people would do it. It’s surprising how many of those kind of jobs there are.’

  ‘That shows grit,’ said Neal.

  Sarah chose not to mention that an added inducement had been her promise to match Matthew’s earnings, pound for pound, from her own. It had been a struggle but she had felt it was worth it. She had wanted her son to have the travel opportunities she had missed-until the prize trip to Nepal had fallen out of the sky.

  ‘What about his father’s family?’ Neal asked. ‘Have they been supportive?’

  ‘Soon after Matt was killed, they moved away...right away. His mother couldn’t stand the reminders. Later on, after Dad died, I found out where they had gone and went to see them. I thought it might help them to know about Matthew. To my amazement, they’d split up and were living with new partners. I only saw Matthew’s mother and it was obvious I wasn’t welcome. I couldn’t believe it.’

  Neal put an arm round her shoulders. ‘You’ve really had a rough time. It’s amazing you’ve come through so well. As for Matt’s parents’ split, it’s not as unusual as you might think. Tragedies like that either draw people closer together or show up concealed flaws in a relationship. Often what happens is that one of them blames the other for whatever happened. It may be that his mother blamed his father for helping him to buy the motorbike.’

  ‘Yes, I think she did...but I still don’t understand why she wasn’t interested in her grandson.’

  ‘Strange, I agree,’ said Neal. ‘Perhaps the only way she could deal with her son’s death was by closing her mind to it. Matt’s child would have been a reminder of something unbearable. You’re a strong woman, Sarah. You’ve proved that. Not everyone has your guts.’

  He turned her into his arms and kissed her with great tenderness.

  ‘It’s turning colder and there are clouds building up. Let’s go back to the hotel.’