Playing With Fire

by Mary Larkin

  ‘Would you not be better going as a single man?’

  ‘I want you to come with me. I told the boss I wanted to get married and he said, “No problem! What better place for a honeymoon than America?” Think of it, Susan . . . A honeymoon in California. Could William not stay with your parents? It’s obvious they dote on him.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to mention that I had a son?’

  ‘I thought we’d be better on our own, Susan,’ he admitted. ‘And I don’t think a child would be permitted. I mean, I am going out there to work. It’s a bonus them letting you go along.’

  ‘Let me get this straight. You want me to marry you and go to America with you . . . but without my son? You must know I could never leave William behind, no matter what the circumstances were.’

  Aware that he wasn’t convincing her, he nodded slowly, his eyes wary.

  ‘And what about when we come back? What then, Jim?’

  ‘I have to confess I haven’t thought that far ahead, Susan.’ He felt the colour rise in his face and he hoped she wouldn’t notice. Because he had given it a lot of thought! He pictured Susan’s parents rearing William. After all, they could afford it and he would want for nothing. Susan and he would hopefully have children of their own one day. Susan was far from stupid and he felt she must be aware of his duplicity. He was not surprised when she rose swiftly to her feet, almost upsetting the drinks.

  She gazed sadly down on him. ‘What kind of person do you think I am, Jim? Do you really think I could turn my back on my beautiful wee son? I thought you knew me better than that.’

  Tight-lipped, he replied, ‘Why not? His father obviously did!’ He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, but it was too late. Would he never learn?

  He didn’t see her hand coming and received the full strength of her wrath, as it made contact with his cheek with such force that it drove his head back on his shoulders.

  ‘I can’t believe how rotten you are, Jim Brady! You’re certainly making a career of insulting me. This much I can tell you! William’s father would marry me tomorrow if I gave him the go-ahead. What do you think of that?’

  ‘Then why don’t you marry him?’

  ‘Hah! I’ll tell you one of the reasons why. Because, poor fool that I am, I actually believed I still loved you. But you certainly hit that on the head once and for all. I don’t want to see you ever again. Do you hear me?’ Tears blinded her as she hurried from the pub. How could she ever have thought him Mr Wonderful? He was nothing but a selfish, two-faced pig.

  Jim sat sipping his pint, aware of the covert glances directed at him. What did he care what anyone thought? He smiled slightly as he gingerly fingered his throbbing cheek. Susan could certainly pack a wallop. It looked as if he would be going to America on his own after all. If he had put in a bigger effort to show willingness where the child was concerned, he might have been able to persuade her that everything would be okay when they returned. No good thinking along those lines now. He loved kids and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t warm to William. His aversion to the child disturbed him somewhat. How could he be a good, loving father to him, feeling the way he did? The idea that Susan had cared enough to have a relationship with another man hurt him beyond measure. Especially since it must have been while she was professing to love him. Still, surely he could overcome his dislike and learn to love this child. He drained his glass and rose slowly to his feet. He cordially saluted the people who were now smiling openly at him. One young girl even shouted, ‘Hey, gorgeous, we’ll be here next week if she doesn’t come back to you.’ Another, ‘Good luck, mate.’ A cheer went up as he left the bar.

  Locked in misery, Susan was unaware of the concerned glances that came her way as she queued for the bus. As she paid her fare the conductor, an elderly man with daughters of his own, asked kindly, ‘Are you all right, love?’

  She nodded and attempted a smile, but failed miserably. Climbing to the upper deck, she sat with bowed head and tried to get a grip on her emotions.

  The journey home seemed endless, but at last she was at her own front door. Her mother was crossing the hall with William in her arms when Susan let herself into the house.

  A glance in her daughter’s direction brought Rachel to an abrupt halt. ‘Susan, what’s wrong, love?’

  Taking the child from his grandmother’s arms, Susan clasped him close to her breast. ‘You should hear the plans Jim Brady has in mind for us,’ she wailed and at last the tears fell like rain and she wept bitterly, great drops falling down unchecked on William’s head.

  Concerned, Rachel patted her shoulder consolingly. ‘Look, I was just about to heat William’s bottle. Take him into the lounge and, when it’s ready, I’ll come and you can tell me all about it.’

  A few minutes later she found her daughter sitting on the edge of the settee rocking back and forth in a distraught state. William was howling in sympathy with her. Reaching for the child, Rachel spoke soothingly to him and admonished her daughter. ‘Stop that racket, for heaven’s sake. You’re terrifying the poor wee soul.’ When William’s sobs petered out, she wiped his blotched face and offered him his bottle. He snuffled, still in distress for another few seconds, then with a sigh snuggled close and sucked contentedly.

  Only then did Rachel give her full attention to her daughter. ‘Now, tell me about these plans Jim Brady has in mind for you.’

  Rachel heard her out in silence, her mind digesting her daughter’s words of woe. Unable to bear it any longer, Susan gulped back a sob and cried, ‘Well, what do you think of that? Isn’t he just one cruel, heartless bugger?’

  ‘Hush, we’ll have less of that language in this house, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Sorry, Mam. It’s just . . .’ She shrugged dejectedly. ‘I’m so disappointed.’

  ‘Let’s get one thing straight. Do you love Jim Brady?’

  ‘Yes! God help me! He’d need to, I can’t help myself.’

  Rachel looked down at the now sleeping child. She could not comprehend how this child had come about if her daughter loved Jim Brady so much. A sudden thought entered her mind, to be pushed away in horror. If Susan had been raped she would not have covered up for the man. Unless . . . it was someone close. Someone they all knew. Hadn’t she said that to tell his name would cause one hell of a scandal? Impossible! No one they knew would do a thing like that.

  Susan noticed the worried expression flitting across her mother’s face. ‘Mam? What are you thinking? Good or bad, I want your opinion. What do you think I should do?’

  Rachel tried to free her mind from the dreadful thoughts that swirled around in it. ‘I’m thinking,’ she said slowly, ‘that it might be a good idea if you married Jim. That is, if you’re absolutely sure you love him?’

  ‘Mam! Whether I love him or not doesn’t enter into it!’ Susan was horrified that her mother could even think of her leaving William. ‘How can you condone him asking me to leave my son behind?’

  ‘Because obviously it would be the proper thing to do. It would give you a chance to enjoy married life together, without Jim having the constant reminder of your infidelity. Once he was sure of your love he might feel differently towards William. And . . . you know yourself that William would be well looked after by your father and me.’

  Susan was looking at her mother, mouth agape. ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. From you of all people, Mam.’

  ‘Well, you did ask my advice. You’ve got to be realistic, Susan. You say you love Jim! He wants to marry you! So go for it! I bet when you come back he won’t be able to resist William and everything will work out in the long run.’

  Scandalised, Susan retorted, ‘Don’t you realise that babies’ memories are short? William will have forgotten me in a year’s time.’

  ‘A year’s nothing in a baby’s life, Susan. As long as he’s loved and cared for, I admit he won’t necessarily miss you. But he will quickly get to know you again.’

  Susan stood rooted to the sp
ot for some moments. She wanted to scream in frustration, grab her son and rush from the house, but common sense prevailed. Where could she go? Instead she gave her mother a baleful glare and, turning on her heel, left the room.

  A short while later Rachel heard the front door slam and sat motionless, feeling that she had failed her daughter. But if Jim persuaded Susan to marry him, there was no way Rachel was going to encourage them to take William with them. For a whole year? No way at all. He had become too precious to her.

  Some thirty minutes later Trevor found her still clasping the sleeping child and rocking gently to and fro. ‘Is he poorly?’ he asked in concern.

  Great haunted eyes gazed up at him. ‘Jim Brady wants Susan to marry him.’

  Perplexed, Trevor asked, ‘Is that not a good idea? Oh, I know he’s a Catholic and normally the idea would upset me no end, as you well know, but all children need a father and Jim seems a reliable kind of bloke.’

  ‘His firm is sending him and another chap to America on a training course and he wants Susan to marry him and go with him. They’d be away for a year. He wants her to leave William with us.’

  Still feeling very much in the dark, Trevor asked softly, ‘And do you not feel well enough to look after him? Is that why you look so worried? You know I’d do all I can to help, and I’m sure Alison would pull her weight too. We can even employ a nanny if need be.’

  ‘No! Susan won’t go unless she can take William with her. What will we do if Jim agrees to take him? They could like America so much that they might even settle over there.’

  Slowly Trevor sank down on to the settee beside her. Now he could see only too well why she was so worried. ‘We can’t let that happen, Rachel.’

  ‘I know. But it’s out of our hands. I advised Susan to marry Jim and go, but she acted as if I was a traitor.’

  ‘Is she upstairs?’

  ‘No. She ran out of the house as if the devil himself was after her. Oh, Trevor, I feel I’ve let her down badly.’

  He slipped to his knees beside her, the better to see the sleeping child. In the months since he was born this wee fellow had wormed his way into his grandfather’s heart. Their whole life seemed to revolve around him. In the midst of her worries, Rachel felt joy creep into her heart as she gazed at them both, so close together. ‘Look, Trevor,’ she whispered, ‘look at him!’

  Bewildered, he examined his grandson’s features. ‘What am I looking for?’

  ‘Can’t you see? He’s a smaller version of yourself. You must surely see the resemblance?’

  Slowly Trevor examined his grandson feature by feature. He couldn’t believe William’s nose was like his, but then it would be on a smaller scale. And definitely not the eyes. Although they were closed, he knew they were a different colour entirely from his. However, as the child moved restlessly in his wife’s arms he saw what she meant. The shape of the brows, the contours of the face . . . why, it was a miniature of the face that looked out of the mirror at him every morning when he shaved.

  ‘Well?’ Rachel’s voice throbbed with urgency.

  Trevor placed an arm around his wife and pressed his cheek to hers. ‘I see what you mean, and I’m sorry I ever doubted you, love.’

  Rachel closed her eyes and sent a prayer heavenwards, thanking God for his mercy. Now she could forget that mad fling she had indulged in shortly before her marriage. What had possessed her she would never know. He had been a handsome man, it was true, but she hadn’t loved him. Love had never entered into it. Trevor had been away at the time and she had agreed to go to the Plaza with the girls she worked with in Gallaher’s tobacco factory.

  All the armed service men who came into Belfast harbour frequented the Plaza ballroom, soldiers and sailors alike. Hans had been a Norwegian sailor and she had agreed to go out with him. One date had led to another. She had been vulnerable at the time, missing Trevor, and Hans’ compliments and gentle caresses had persuaded her it would do no harm - he would take care, he assured her. One night his attentions and soft words of persuasion had aroused her so much, she had let lust rule her head. Once the deed was done, however, she had been riddled with guilt and had refused to see Hans again.

  To her dismay he had actually sought her out, coming to her workplace in York Road and hanging about outside, waiting for her. Trevor was due home soon and, terrified he would find out, she had begged Hans not to mess up her life. At last she had persuaded him that he really would ruin her life if he carried on in the same way. He had given in to her wishes, but, professing to love her, had insisted that she take his address in case she changed her mind.

  When Susan had been premature and had resembled none of the family, Rachel had been terrified, especially in the face of Trevor’s suspicions. Because of her guilty secret she hadn’t blamed him for doubting her. There had been moments in their marriage when she had fought the desire to tell him about Hans and clear the air once and for all. Now she was glad she hadn’t. There could be no doubt now that Susan was Trevor’s daughter. He need never know her well-kept secret.

  Suddenly her heart contracted with fear as shameful thoughts entered her mind. There could be another reason why William resembled him so much; why Trevor gave in so easily and accepted Susan and her child back into the family home.

  Cupping her cheek with his hand, Trevor turned her face towards him. ‘I really am sorry for doubting you, love.’

  Eyes full of dread met his. How could she think these terrible things about her husband, Susan’s father? But was he responsible? She was very much aware that these things did happen. Remembered such a case happening in the street where she grew up. There had been a terrible scandal. It had broken up the family! The father had eventually been arrested and imprisoned. But he had been an unsavoury character. Nothing at all like Trevor.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, I understood your fears,’ she whispered. But when, above the sleeping child’s head, he sought her lips, she turned her head aside. She would have to question Susan closely and insist on knowing the man’s name. Her daughter was making life impossible for them all by her obstinate silence.

  ‘I’ll make it up to you, love. I promise.’

  ‘I know you will. Just give me time.’

  Susan’s mad rush sent her up the side of the Cave Hill at a gallop. Halfway there she had to pause for breath, sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree and wiping the tears from her face. A man walking his dog passed her and bid her the time of day. She returned his greeting and then let her thoughts hold sway. Imagine her mother, of all people, advising her to leave her son behind. She would never have believed it possible if she hadn’t heard it with her own two ears. Her own mother! She couldn’t get over it. Had the whole world gone crazy? After she had regained her breath, more slowly now, she continued on up the hill until she was standing on the brow looking out over Belfast Lough.

  A heat haze made everything ethereal and she felt ghostly spirits must surely be hovering about observing her. ‘Is anyone I know out there,’ she whispered softly. ‘Any spirits of dead friends or relatives? If so, please help me to do what’s right.’ Suddenly memories of nights when much younger came to her, when she and her schoolfriends had gathered together on the hill to tell ghost stories and see who could terrify the others the most, as they sat in a ring, clasping hands. Shivers ran down her spine as the memories unfolded. It was alleged that caves hidden below the brow of the hill were used for satanic meetings. What if there was any truth in the rumours and she was calling on the wrong kind of spirits for help? Could you unwittingly make a pact with the Devil? With a last fearful look around she hurriedly retraced her footsteps, glancing apprehensively over her shoulder now and again until she reached the foot of the hill and civilisation.

  Feeling more at ease, her thoughts turned to Donald. She was glad he was coming over on a visit. He would be a pleasant change from Jim and Graham. They had been very close friends, so perhaps she would feel able to confide in him and find out what he thought about her marrying
Jim Brady and going to America for a year without William. Good God! What was she thinking of? Was there even the slightest of chances that she might marry Jim? Of course not. She could never leave William behind for a whole year. Why, she would miss out on so much: the cutting of his first tooth; his attempts to crawl; maybe even his first unaided steps.

  Against her will Jim’s words came back to tempt her. A honeymoon in California with the man she loved would be out of this world. It was a wonderful opportunity. Too good to be missed. Was there any way he could be persuaded to bring William with them? No! Not after the way she’d reacted to his proposal, slapping his face in public like that. He would never come anywhere near her again. She had surely burnt her bridges.

  All day Sunday she moped about the house, barely speaking to her parents. Rachel tried to work up the courage to confront her daughter, find out the truth once and for all. Seeing his wife’s distress, Trevor thought her worry was in case Susan went to America and took William with her. He warned her not to try and soft-soap Susan, but to let things take their own course.

  Three days later Susan was proved wrong about Jim’s intentions. On Tuesday morning there was a letter in the post for her. The handwriting was only slightly familiar and her thoughts flew to Donald. Was he cancelling his holiday? It was with trepidation that she opened it.

  Colour rushed to her face when she saw it was from Jim. It was so unexpected; she had thought she would never hear from him again. All eyes were on her and she pushed it unread into the pocket of her skirt and continued to eat her breakfast.

  ‘Aren’t you going to tell us who the letter’s from?’ teased Alison. ‘Have you a secret admirer.’

  ‘It’s none of your business, Alison.’

  ‘You’re blushing so much I just had to ask.’

  ‘Did no one ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat?’

  ‘Ah well, I suppose all will be revealed soon enough.’ A glance at the clock brought Alison quickly to her feet. ‘Is that the time it is? I’ll have to run or I’ll be late. See you all tonight.’