‘This is fun,’ he said. ‘Now, what shall we have to eat?’
Chapter Thirty-six
‘So now,’ said Maudie, on the Tuesday evening after Daphne’s arrival. ‘What about these photographs? We’ve been meaning to look at them ever since you arrived.’
‘The time has flown so fast,’ said Daphne, ‘and it’s been such fun,’ but she looked suddenly tired.
‘It seemed such a pity to waste the weather,’ said Maudie cheerfully. ‘I think we’re in for a wet spell now, though, and it’s quite chilly again. I think I was right to light the stove up only it seems such a luxury when it’s nearly June.’
‘Polonius is enjoying it,’ said Daphne, looking with affection at the recumbent figure. ‘He must be exhausted after that long walk this morning. I know I am.’
‘Exactly,’ agreed Maudie, ‘which is why a nice, quiet evening looking at photographs is just what we need.’
There was a silence. After a moment, when Daphne had made no move, Maudie glanced at her in surprise. Daphne’s eyes were closed and her face wore a concentrated look, as though she might be praying. Maudie felt a spasm of fear. She leaned forward and touched her friend’s knee.
‘Are you all right?’
Daphne opened her eyes and smiled but her face was strained. ‘Yes,’ she said, but with a kind of sadness. ‘Quite all right. I’ll get them, then.’
‘Shall I go?’ Maudie was still concerned. ‘I can fetch them if you tell me where they are? Or would you rather leave it?’
‘No,’ she answered, quite firmly. ‘No, I think you’re right. The time has come. It’s been put off quite long enough.’
She got up and went out leaving Maudie staring into the fire, puzzled. Daphne’s choice of words held an almost ominous tone and Maudie was still frowning when Daphne came back holding several folders. She sat down again, holding them on her lap, looking preoccupied. Maudie watched her curiously. Presently Daphne shook her head and sighed.
‘Very well,’ she said, as though she had come to a decision. ‘Where shall we start?’
‘With young Tim,’ said Maudie unhesitatingly. ‘I’ve been saying for ages that I never see a decent photograph of him. He’s always blurred or has his back to the camera. I hope you’ve brought some good ones, Daffers.’
Quite spontaneously, Daphne began to laugh. She laughed so much that Maudie began to feel uneasy. It reminded her of another occasion when Daphne had laughed like that, years and years ago … after something Maudie had said about trusting her although she’d been Hilda’s oldest friend …
‘Sorry,’ Daphne was saying. ‘It’s simply so typical of you, Maudie. You always did go straight for the weak spot. It’s what makes you so formidable. Very well.’ She shuffled through the photographs, found one, held it for a brief moment and then offered it to Maudie. ‘That’s young Tim.’
Reaching for it eagerly, Maudie did not see the almost anguished expression on Daphne’s face. She scanned the photograph, looking intently at the young face which stared out at her.
‘What a nice-looking boy,’ she said approvingly. ‘How dark he is! Not a bit like the other two, is he?’ She frowned a little. ‘He reminds me of someone. Not Emily, certainly … Oh, I’ve got it. How extraordinary.’ She peered more closely, turning it to the light. ‘It’s Posy. He looks just like Posy when she was this age. She was so like Hector. In fact this reminds me of a photograph taken of him at just about this age. Isn’t that amazing?’
She glanced briefly at Daphne, still absorbed by her discovery, not taking in the consequences, until her friend’s silence, her utter lack of reaction, caught her attention. Still holding the photograph, Maudie looked again at Daphne. Her words seemed to hang deafeningly in the silence. Daphne raised her head at last and their eyes met in a long look: Maudie’s frightened, questioning; Daphne’s compassionate, desperate. Silence stretched between them. Polonius yawned and shifted, settling himself more comfortably, and the clock wheezed out eight tinny chimes.
‘Hector?’ whispered Maudie. The fears and doubts of the last year crystallised into terrible certainties. Suddenly she was an old, old woman. ‘Hector and Emily?
‘No!’ cried Daphne strongly. ‘Good God, Maudie. No, of course not Emily. Forgive me, Maudie. It was me.’
‘You had an affair with Hector,’ said Maudie slowly, painfully. ‘And Emily is his child.’
‘It had finished long before he met you,’ said Daphne quickly. ‘I swear to you, Maudie. There was nothing between us then. It happened after Selina had scarlet fever. She took a long time getting over it and Hilda and both girls went home to Hilda’s mother for a while. Hector was alone and … Well, it just seemed to happen.’
Maudie watched her bleakly. ‘You were in love with him.’
‘Yes,’ said Daphne, after a moment. ‘Yes, I was in love with him. Philip was a dear but he was so terribly dull. And then, you see, we couldn’t have children. Philip never wanted to discuss it. He was afraid it might be his fault, although I never accused him. After all, it might just as easily have been mine. I simply didn’t know although, by then, I’d quite given up hope of a baby. We both had. He was so delighted when I became pregnant. Hector was furious when I told him. I pretended that it might be Philip’s child but I knew it wasn’t and Hector knew it too. But I was so happy, you see, and Philip thought it was some kind of miracle, so we agreed to take the chance. I was terrified it might be a boy and look like Hector but I couldn’t have done anything else. A baby, after all those years of longing! But Hector was never in love with me, Maudie. He never pretended to be. We’d known each other for years, I was Hilda’s best friend, and there was an easy, careless intimacy between us. But just that once it toppled over into something more. It was crazy, a sudden madness. We both needed it, if you can understand what I mean. Hilda and Philip were good, upstanding people but oh, the joy of being with someone who liked to laugh and have fun!’
‘And that was why you were so passionate about Emily.’ It was a statement. The pieces were fitting slowly into place.
‘I was so relieved that she was a girl, you see. I can’t tell you the strain it was, with Hilda being so thrilled about it and giving me advice. And Hector and I pretending that everything was just the same between us. I felt so guilty. It was agony and Hector was so worried. He regretted it always but at the time he was simply terrified that I would have a boy that looked like him. His dark colouring was so distinctive and Philip and I were both fair. But darling Emily never let me down. Not until Tim. Even so, I wasn’t sure until he was three or four years old but then I could see quite clearly that he was beginning to look just like his grandfather.’
‘Which is why I never had photographs of Tim, only of the girls.’
‘I knew you’d spot the likeness, you see.’ Daphne shook her head. ‘I couldn’t risk it. I picked the ones which weren’t too clear but I suspected that one day I’d have to tell you.’
‘Why now?’ Maudie tried to control her hurt, to bring all her powers of detachment to bear. Later, she would allow herself the luxury of feelings.
‘Oh, love.’ Daphne looked at her sadly. ‘I couldn’t stand it any longer. You see, he never loved me. I really faced that when I met you. For the first time in his life Hector was really in love and it simply shone out of him, so much so that I knew that the small piece of him that I’d had, our moment together, couldn’t possibly hurt you. We became friends, you and I, and that was precious to me. Each time Emily became pregnant the old terror reappeared but I might never have had to tell you if it hadn’t been for the way you’ve suffered since he died.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You can’t come to terms with Hector’s death because of two things. The first is the way that he apologised to Selina, thinking she was Hilda, for marrying you. But that wasn’t what he was apologising for, Maudie. He was apologising for betraying her with me. I told you, Hector never forgave himself for that lapse. He might have been fun-loving, hap
py-go-lucky, but he wasn’t by nature an adulterer. I got him at a low moment and he succumbed to it. He was horrified that I was pregnant, that I carried his child and that he couldn’t acknowledge her. His guilt was tremendous and, manlike, he couldn’t quite forgive me either. I think he lived in terror that I might spill the beans to you. He told me that he would never forgive me if I hurt you, Maudie. But I didn’t want to hurt you, which is why I’ve kept silent. But I can’t go on any longer. I can’t see you tearing yourself apart with suspicion. The other thing is the money. Hector’s stocks and shares. When Tim was killed in that car accident Emily was left practically penniless. There were all sorts of complications. It was a terrible time. Hector came to me to see if there was any way he could help.’
‘The money went to Emily and the children?’ Maudie sounded as if a mystery had been finally solved, as if the last piece of the puzzle had slipped into place.
Daphne sighed heavily. ‘He felt that it was the least he could do although I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. “She’s my daughter,” he said, “and they are my grandchildren. You must allow me to do this.” He was convinced that you wouldn’t suffer financially and, you see, he’d always felt it so keenly that he could never acknowledge them. I always tried to show him the joy we’d had, Philip and I, because of Emily, but he was eaten up by guilt on both counts. Because of Hilda and because of Emily. I can’t tell you, Maudie, how glad I was that he married you. You made him laugh. With you he grew young again.’
‘I was often cruel to him.’ There were tears in Maudie’s eyes: tears of pain and tears of relief. ‘I was often such a cow.’
‘And Hector was often domineering and tiresome.’ Daphne looked exhausted. ‘But he loved you. There was never a moment’s question of that. Try to remember how it was.’
‘Does Emily know?’
Daphne rested her head against a cushion and closed her eyes. ‘Yes, she knows. I didn’t tell her until after Philip died but I was afraid that she might begin to guess. Tim is so like Posy and Emily started to talk of coming over and seeing you all. She and Posy stay in touch and I began to be afraid that it was only a matter of time. I wanted her to hear it from me.’
‘How did she take it?’
Daphne smiled. ‘She was terribly sweet about it. She was always very fond of Hector, you know. She told me to tell you that she’s always looked on you as her second mother and that now you can be stepgrandmum to the children. She was so worried that you might be hurt.’
‘Darling Emily,’ said Maudie unsteadily. ‘She belonged to all of us.’
‘I’m so sorry about the money, Maudie.’
‘It doesn’t matter about the money,’ cried Maudie impatiently. ‘Not as money, if you see what I mean. It was just not knowing, thinking that Hector had kept things hidden from me.’
‘I know,’ said Daphne remorsefully. ‘But you wouldn’t have had to sell Moorgate if you’d had it. I’ve felt so guilty.’
‘The G-word,’ said Maudie. ‘We all carry so much guilt. Poor Hector. I wish he’d told me at the beginning.’
‘Do you?’ Daphne raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure?’
‘No.’ Maudie smiled reluctantly. ‘No, I’m glad I didn’t know. I might not have been able to feel so safe with you. It was Hilda’s power over Hector that I feared. What a fool I was, now I come to think of it, to trust you as I did.’
‘No, you weren’t.’ Daphne shook her head. ‘Your instincts were quite sound. You had nothing to fear from me.’
‘Poor Daphne.’ Maudie looked at her affectionately. ‘How lonely you must have been. I can’t believe that you didn’t hate me.’
‘I thought I was going to. Hector wrote to tell me, to warn me, and that was the final blow to any hope I had. After Hilda died, you see, I thought that I might have a little bit of him to myself. It was madness, of course. With Philip still alive, Hector would never have crossed the line again, but there’s always a tiny foolish dream we nurture, isn’t there? Once I had his letter I knew my dream was just so much dust.’
‘Oh, Daphne, I am sorry. And you were so generous, so kind. I’ve depended on you so much.’
Daphne stretched out a hand, her eyes filled with memories. ‘It was odd. I dreaded meeting you and yet, when I saw you, I felt a great liking for you. It was so strange. I knew that you were utterly right for him and that you would make him happy. It was very clever of Hector to find you. And, you know, despite my unhappiness, gradually things began to work even better. We were all such friends and, through you, I seemed to regain Hector’s friendship and trust. That was very precious to me.’
‘But what a weight you’ve carried.’ Maudie held her hand tightly. ‘And you came all this way knowing that you were going to have to tell me.’
‘You’ve been wonderful. I thought it would be so much worse.’
Maudie knitted her brows. ‘I suppose it’s rather peculiar but I feel in some way that we’ve shared him. I couldn’t have borne it if it had happened after I’d met him but, as it is, somehow I feel that it simply doesn’t matter. The other things are far more important. I can believe now that he didn’t regret marrying me and that he didn’t lie to me. That’s what matters to me. You and Emily were to do with Hilda, not me. I can go on loving you just as I always have.’
Daphne took a deep breath. ‘It was how I prayed you might feel but I couldn’t rely on it. Bless you, Maudie. Now, do you really want to look at photographs or shall we have a good stiff drink?’
‘I can’t see why we shouldn’t do both.’ Maudie got to her feet rather shakily. ‘We’ve both sustained a shock and we need something to revive us. But you’ve kept this young man from me for quite long enough and I want to see more of him.’
Later, as they sat comfortably, a bottle on the table between them, Maudie asked suddenly, ‘And what about Selina? Does she know she has a half-sister, two nieces and a nephew?’
Daphne laid down the photograph she’d been studying and picked up her glass.
‘No,’ she said, ‘she doesn’t. And I’ve decided that she’s happier in ignorance.’
‘“Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise”?’
‘Something like that. Emily is one of the few people that Selina hasn’t fallen out with. Oh, I know that the three thousand miles between them might have something to do with it, but nevertheless I’ve always thought that it would be simply cruel to tell her the truth. She found it difficult enough to cope with Hector remarrying. To know that he was unfaithful to her mother with me would be the last straw.’
‘Yes, I think I agree with that.’ Maudie smiled at the photograph she was holding. ‘You know, this child is incredibly like Posy. It’s rather nice to think that there’s another little bit of Hector growing up, don’t you think?’
‘Oh, I do.’ Daphne sighed with relief. ‘Every time I see him I think so. He has a few little tricks that make my heart turn over. I long for you to see him, Maudie.’
‘So do I. But supposing, later on, Selina or Posy guess? I imagine they might meet Tim, one day?’
‘Emily and I have talked it over endlessly. We hope that Posy might not be particularly affected if she ever finds out. After all, it’s a couple of generations back and she and Selina aren’t particularly close. We’ll have to hope she understands and forgives us. As for Selina …’ She shrugged, shaking her head. ‘Am I right, I wonder? It’s so difficult to decide what is right for other people. I’d hate to alienate her. It sounds as if she has enough problems at the moment.’
‘You’re going to see her next week?’
Daphne nodded. ‘I’m staying a couple of nights with her before I go north to see Philip’s brother. To tell you the truth, I’m rather dreading it now.’
Maudie stared reflectively into her glass. ‘She’s alienated her own family. The boys flee at the sight of her and Chris’s wife can’t stand her. Selina can’t forgive Posy for loving me or me for loving Hector, and it must be years since she saw Patricia and
her family. And now, on top of all that, Patrick’s left her. I wish I could help her but we invariably rub each other up the wrong way. I’m ashamed of myself, to tell the truth. I’ve failed miserably with Selina.’
Daphne shifted uneasily. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m not too sure. It just occurred to me, while we were speaking, that Emily might be able to help her. I can’t imagine how, mind. Perhaps you should take the photograph with you, after all.’
‘She’d turn me out of the house.’
‘Join the club. We’ve all been turned out, why not you? Seriously, I’m probably talking nonsense. Too much whisky and the enormous relief of knowing about Hector. I’m abrogating my responsibilities. I can’t help Selina and I’d be grateful if someone else would. I’d feel less guilty about her. Anyway, let’s not worry about it any more. Come on, Daffers. Fill up the glasses and pass some more photographs. I’m just beginning to enjoy myself.’
Later, alone again in bed, Daphne lay propped against her pillows, her eyes closed. She was exhausted by her ordeal. Deeply thankful though she was that Maudie’s relief, her release from tormenting doubt, had outweighed any feelings of anger at Hector’s deception, yet her own confession had been much more gruelling than she’d allowed it to appear. It had been necessary to confirm, to insist on the fact that Hector had never loved her, but it had hurt her to do it. It had reminded her of the pain of those years, seeing him with Hilda and his daughters, watching him lavish affection on those who were legally entitled to his love and protection. How painful it had been, excluded from his care, their brief passion unacknowledged, regretted even, on his part.
She was glad that Maudie had been unaware of the real cost of her confession; glad that she’d taken it so well. Maudie’s love for her and for Emily had carried them over the worst of it—and she’d been quite right. With Maudie she’d been able to have a share in Hector’s love in a way that had been impossible with Hilda. And she’d had Emily, his child, to ease the pain—Emily and the girls and now Tim …
A Week in Winter: A Novel Page 32
