Hold the Dream

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  Paula gazed at her children. ‘Sssh!’ she said softly, bringing a finger to her lips.

  ‘Pom,’ Tessa said, ‘pom…Mam.’

  ‘All right, I’ll say the Sandman’s poem for you, but snuggle down, and close your eyes both of you.’

  Each child did as she said. Lorne put his thumb in his mouth and Tessa clutched at the white lamb lying next to her in the bed, and began to suck on its ear.

  Paula began to recite in the softest of voices:

  ‘The Sandman has the swiftest wings

  And shoes that are made of gold,

  He calls on you when the first star sings

  When the night is not very old.

  He carries a tiny silver spoon

  And a bucket made of night,

  He fills your eyes with bits of moon

  And stardust that’s shiny and bright.

  He takes you on a ship that sails

  Through the land of dreams and joys,

  And tells you many wondrous tales

  Of dragons and magical toys.

  So come now and rest your sleepyhead

  And close your eyes very tight,

  For should you stay awake instead

  The Sandman won’t pass by tonight.’

  Paula stopped, stood up and went to peer at the twins. Both were already fast asleep. A tender smile flickered on her mouth. They had had an unusually hectic day and were worn out. Gently she kissed each of them and moved the stool out of the way. Emily went to Lorne and Tessa, also bent and kissed them, and the two young women crept out of the bedroom on their tiptoes.

  By seven o’clock Paula was beginning to wonder what had happened to Jim. Emily had left over half an hour ago, after having a quick drink with her in the library. She had seated herself at the desk, intending to do some paperwork, but her worries had intruded.

  It was 5 January. The day she had mentally set aside to have a serious talk with Jim. Her parents and Philip had returned to London three days ago, after spending Christmas at Pennistone Royal. They had already departed for their skiing holiday in Chamonix.

  Christmas had been exceptionally quiet. Randolph and Vivienne had accepted an invitation to visit Anthony and Sally at Clonloughlin, and the O’Neills had made a last-minute decision to join Shane in Barbados. Emily and Winston, along with Alexander and Maggie, had come to stay for a few days, and the entire Kallinski clan had driven over on Christmas Eve. But the whole holiday period had been sad and depressing for everyone without Emma. She had always been the catalyst, the mover and the doer, and without her things were not the same.

  Paula had somehow struggled through, making a supreme effort for the children and her parents, whilst counting the hours until today. And then Jim had suddenly rushed off to the newspaper this morning before she had had a chance to open her mouth.

  Suddenly Paula swung around in the chair and jumped up as she heard the sound of a car on the gravel driveway outside. She stepped up to the window behind her chair, cupped her hands against the glass and peered out. The light over the back door shone brightly, clearly illuminating Jim’s Aston Martin.

  With a small intake of breath she held herself rigid as her eyes fell on the pair of skis sticking out of one of the back windows. So that was why he was so late. He had gone to Long Meadow first – to collect his skiing gear. He was going to Chamonix after all.

  It’s now or never, Paula muttered under her breath and flew across the library. Wrenching open the door she stepped out into the Stone Hall, waiting for him, suppressing her exasperation.

  Jim came in a moment later and headed in the direction of the main staircase at the other end of the hall.

  ‘I’m in here, Jim,’ she exclaimed.

  Startled, he pivoted swiftly, stood regarding her with uncertainty.

  ‘Can you spare me a few minutes?’ she asked, striving to bring her voice down to a lower pitch, not wanting to alert him or scare him off.

  ‘Why not? I was just going up to change. Had a rather hectic day,’ he announced, walking towards her. ‘Surprisingly busy for Saturday.’

  Not so surprising, she thought, stepping back, opening the door wider. You’ve been clearing your desk in readiness for your imminent departure. But she said none of this.

  Jim strolled past her into the library, without kissing her or making any gesture of affection. There was a great deal of strain between them and this had lately turned into real coldness.

  Paula closed the door firmly, thought of locking it, but changed her mind. She followed him over to the fireplace.

  Sitting down in a wing chair, Paula glanced up at him hovering near the fire. ‘Dinner’s not until eight. You’ve plenty of time to freshen up. Make yourself comfortable, Jim, let’s chat for a while.’

  Throwing her an odd look, he nevertheless took the other chair, pulled out his cigarettes and put one in his mouth. After lighting it he smoked in silence for a second, staring ahead at the fire. Then he said, ‘How was your day?’

  ‘Fine. I spent it with the children. Emily came over for lunch and stayed all afternoon. Winston had gone to a football match.’

  Jim said nothing.

  Paula kept her voice very low as she said, ‘So you are going to Chamonix.’

  ‘Yes.’ He did not look at her.

  ‘When are you leaving?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I thought I’d drive up to London late tonight, around ten or eleven. The roads will be virtually empty. I can make it in record time. That way I can catch the first flight to Geneva tomorrow.’

  Anger rushed through her, but she clamped down on it, knowing that she had to keep a cool head and must not inflame him if she was to accomplish anything. She said, ‘Please don’t go, Jim. At least not for a few days.’

  ‘Why?’ Now he swung his head, levelled his silvery-grey eyes on her and a blond brow lifted in surprise. He said, ‘You’re going to New York.’

  ‘Yes, but not until the 8th or 9th. I told you, when you came back from Canada, that I wanted to discuss our problems. You put me off because it was Christmas and we were expecting guests. You promised you wouldn’t go to Chamonix until we had settled things, thrashed out our problems.’

  ‘Your problems, not mine, Paula.’

  ‘Our problems.’

  ‘I beg to disagree. If there are any problems in our marriage you have created them. For over a year now you’ve been looking for trouble, insisting we had difficulties when we didn’t have any. Also, you are the one who has…left the marital bed, not I. You, and you alone, Paula, are the one who has brought about the present untenable situation.’ He smiled faintly, eyeing her more closely. ‘Because of you we only have half a marriage, but I’m prepared to live with it.’

  ‘We have no marriage at all.’

  He laughed hollowly. ‘We do have two children, though, and I’m prepared to share the same house with you for their sakes. They need us both. And talking of houses, when I come back from Chamonix we are all going to move back to Long Meadow. That is my house, my home, and my children are going to be brought up there.’

  Paula stared at him aghast. ‘You know very well Grandy wanted – ’

  ‘This is not your house,’ he cut in rapidly. ‘It belongs to your mother.’

  ‘You know very well Mummy and Daddy have to live in London so he can go to Harte’s every day.’

  ‘That’s their problem, not ours.’

  ‘Grandy didn’t want Pennistone Royal to be left unoccupied half of the year. It was always a foregone conclusion that I would live here most of the time, that my parents would come for weekends when they could, spend the summer months and special holidays at the house.’

  ‘I have every intention of moving back into Long Meadow. With the children,’ he said in a rush. ‘You are very welcome. Of course, I can’t force you to move in with us – ’ He broke off, shrugged. ‘It’s your decision.’

  Paula looked at him, biting her inner lip. She said, ‘Jim, I want a divorce.’


  He said coldly, ‘I don’t. I will never agree to one. Never. Furthermore, I think you should know that if you decide to take such a step I will fight you for custody of Lorne and Tessa. My children are going to be with me.’

  ‘Children need their mother,’ she began, and shook her head. ‘Surely you of all people know that. Naturally, you would have full visiting rights. I would never keep the children away from you, Jim. You would see them whenever you wanted, and they would come and stay with you.’

  He smiled narrowly as he snapped, ‘You’re priceless, do you know that. Quite extraordinary, and the most selfish woman I’ve ever known. You want it all, don’t you. Your freedom to do what you want, to live where you want, and the children as well.’ His eyes became icy. ‘Do you also want to take my job away from me?’

  Paula sucked in her breath. ‘How can you think a thing like that! Of course I don’t. Grandy renewed your contract before she died, and your job is safe for the rest of your life. And you also have the shares in the new company.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ he mused softly. ‘The new company. I rather like Toronto…lovely city. I might move there for a few years. That idea had crossed my mind in December. I’d enjoy running the Toronto Sentinel. Naturally the children would go with me.’

  ‘No!’ she cried, her face paling.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he countered. ‘But it is up to you, Paula. If you persist in this ridiculous idea of getting a divorce, if you break up my family, I will settle in Toronto and I have every intention of taking my children with me.’

  ‘They’re also mine.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘they are. And you are my wife.’ He softened his tone, gave her a warmer look. ‘We’re a family, Paula. The children need you, I need you.’ He reached out, took her hand in his. ‘Why can’t you stop all this nonsense, put aside your silly and unfounded grudges against me, make an effort to patch up our marriage. I’m willing to try.’ He flashed her his bland smile. ‘Why not start right now – tonight.’ He tightened his grip on her fingers and leaned closer to her, added in a suggestive tone, ‘There’s no time like the present, darling. Come on, let’s go upstairs and make love. I’ll prove to you that all of these differences you’re forever talking about are imaginary, exist only in your head. Come back to my bed, come back into my arms, Paula.’

  She did not dare say a word.

  There was a long and painful silence.

  Finally Jim murmured, ‘All right, not tonight then. Pity. Listen, since I’m going off to Chamonix and you’re about to head for New York, let us both take the rest of this month to come to terms with ourselves during our separation. And then, when we’re both back home in a few weeks, we’ll start afresh. We’ll move into Long Meadow and begin again, build a better relationship than we ever had before.’

  ‘There’s nothing left between us, Jim, and therefore there is nothing to build on,’ she whispered miserably.

  He let go of her hand and gazed into the fire. After a short while he said, ‘Psychologists call it compulsive repetition.’

  Not understanding what he was suddenly talking about, Paula frowned and said, ‘I’m not following you.’

  Jim turned to face her, and repeated, ‘Psychologists call it compulsive repetition.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked sharply, wondering if he was attempting to sidetrack her as he so often did.

  ‘It refers to the pattern of behaviour some people adopt – an offspring actually reliving the life of a parent or grandparent, repeating that life, mistakes and all, as if he or she is guided by some terrible inner compulsion.’

  Paula gaped at him speechlessly. But she quickly found her voice. ‘Are you trying to say that I am reliving my grandmother’s life?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘You’re absolutely wrong!’ Paula cried. ‘I am my own person. I am living my own life.’

  ‘Think that if you wish, but it’s not true. You are compulsively doing everything Emma Harte ever did, and with great precision. You work your fingers to the bone, devote every moment of your time to that wretched business, selfishly flitting around the world, wheeling and dealing and neglecting your duties as a wife and mother. You make everybody toe the line, your line, and you lack emotional stability just as she did.’

  Paula was furious. ‘How dare you! How dare you criticize Grandy! You’re making her out to be something she was not, she who was so good to you! You’ve really got a bloody nerve. Furthermore, I don’t neglect my children, and I never neglected you. Our estrangement came about because of the things which are lacking in you, Jim. I’m not emotionally unstable, but it strikes me that you are. I wasn’t the one in a – ’ Paula stopped herself, clenched her hands together in her lap.

  ‘I knew you’d never let me live that down,’ he said his face darkening. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that you might be responsible for my nervous breakdown?’ he challenged.

  Paula gasped, ‘If anybody’s compulsive, you are. You continually want to blame me for everything that you yourself do.’

  Jim sighed. He glanced away, ruminating for a few seconds, and then he brought his eyes to Paula. He gave her a penetrating stare. ‘Why are you so keen to get a divorce?’

  ‘Because our marriage is over. It’s ridiculous to continue,’ she murmured, adopting a calmer, more reasonable tone. ‘It’s not fair to the children, to you, or to me, Jim.’

  ‘We were in love,’ he mused almost to himself then asked, ‘weren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, we were.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But being in love doesn’t guarantee happiness, Jim. Two people have to be compatible and able to live with each other on a day-to-day basis. Being in love is never enough, I’m afraid. A marriage needs a solid foundation based on genuine friendship.’

  ‘Is there another man?’ he demanded. His eyes remained fixed on hers.

  Unexpected though the question was, Paula managed to keep her neutral expression in place. Although her heart missed a beat, she said in her most convincing voice, ‘No, there isn’t, Jim.’

  He did not say anything for a few seconds. And then he got up, went and stood over her chair. He gripped her shoulder. ‘There had better not be, Paula. Because if there is I will destroy you. I’ll counter-sue you for divorce, and I’ll have you declared an unfit mother. I’ll get custody of my children, never you fear. No judge in England is going to give the children of a broken marriage to a woman who wilfully broke up that marriage and who is neglectful of those children, who travels the world in pursuit of her business interests to the detriment of those children.’ He brought his face closer to hers, and tightened his hand on her shoulder. ‘Or one who is screwing around with another man.’

  Paula managed to throw off his vice-like grip. She leaped to her feet, her face blazing. ‘Try it,’ she said in a cold voice. ‘Just try it. We’ll see who wins.’

  He stepped away from her and laughed in her face. ‘And you don’t think you’re reliving Emma Harte’s life. That’s the joke of the century. Just look at you – why you sound exactly like her. And you think the way she did. You, too, believe that money and power make you invulnerable. Sadly, my dear, they don’t.’ He swung around and walked towards the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Paula called after him.

  Jim stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. ‘To London. There’s not much point my staying here for dinner. We’ll only continue to fight. Frankly, I’m weary of it all.’

  Paula ran after him, took his arm, gave him a pleading look, ‘But there is no real reason for us to quarrel in this way, Jim,’ she said in a shaken voice. ‘We can work this out like civilized people, like adults who are mature and intelligent. I know we can.’

  ‘It’s really up to you, Paula,’ Jim said, also speaking in a more reasonable voice. ‘Think about everything I’ve said and perhaps when I get back from Chamonix you’ll have come to your senses.’

  CHAPTER 49

  John Crawford, the family solicitor, had been listenin
g to Paula for over an hour.

  He had not interrupted her once, deeming it wiser to let her unburden herself before asking any relevant questions. Also he had discerned, in his astute and insightful way, that she had not discussed her disastrous marriage with anyone else before tonight. Certainly not at great length, and he decided that in a sense talking to him was a catharsis for her. He believed that by talking, opening up, she would feel better.

  Paula finally paused for breath. He instantly detected a relaxation in the way she held her body, a sudden slackening of her rigid facial muscles, and relief was mirrored in her startling blue eyes. ‘That’s about it,’ she said, smiling a bit uncertainly. ‘I don’t think I’ve missed anything.’

  John nodded, continuing to observe her. He recognized she was in total control, calm enough to accept what he was about to say. He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t want to alarm you, and this is only a suggestion, but perhaps we ought to make the children wards of court.’

  Although she was startled, Paula said steadily enough, ‘Oh John, surely that’s far too drastic a step. It might even be begging for trouble. It’s so inflammatory.’

  John, who had long harboured a visceral dislike of Jim Fairley, clasped his hands together and brought them up to his face. He looked at her over them, his eyes reflective. ‘It seems to me, from the things you’ve told me, that Jim virtually threatened to take those children out of the country, to Canada to be precise, if you don’t do as he wants. Isn’t that so, Paula?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted.

  ‘By making children wards of court one prevents their physical removal from their country of domicile by a disgruntled and angry parent involved in this kind of distressing emotional situation.’

  ‘Yes, John, I know what it means. But Jim believes I will change my mind about getting a divorce. He’s not going to suddenly swoop down, grab the children and fly off to Toronto. He would certainly try to ascertain what I’m going to do first. Besides, he’s in Chamonix.’