by Rosie Clarke
Jon had always been understanding of my own need to work. I could not be less understanding of his.
That evening, James told me he wouldn’t be seeing his friend for a while.
‘Jack has to go to Paris tomorrow,’ he said, giving me an oddly unchildlike look. ‘Angie is buying clothes. He left her there while he came over. Now he has to fetch her. They are going to stay at the Cottage.’
I felt as if an iron hand had taken hold of my heart. Jack was taking his wife to the lovely old house we had stayed at together during the war. We’d had such a wonderful time there! It hurt me that he could think of taking her there. I had treasured the memories of that time, but now they would be spoiled.
‘Well, that will be nice for them.’
‘Why didn’t you marry him, Mum?’
James was staring at me intently. How much those eyes seemed to say! I had always known he blamed me for sending Jack away, but now he seemed to have a new understanding.
I took a deep breath. ‘When I thought I might marry Jack, I believed Jon was dead,’ I said. ‘Please try to see it my way, darling. I didn’t want to hurt you or … Jack. I was still married. My husband – your father – was badly injured. I couldn’t walk away from that. I couldn’t leave Jon. It would have been cruel.’
I spoke of Jon as my son’s father, because in law he was. Jon had given James his own name to protect him, and deserved the title if only for that.
James nodded and looked thoughtful. ‘That’s what Jack told me. He said you had done the right thing, that it was sometimes very hard to do what was right – and that only very brave people ever manage to do it. He said I should respect you for what you did, Mum.’
‘Did he?’ My throat felt tight and I was close to tears. ‘He was angry with me at the time.’
‘He was at first, but isn’t now.’ James frowned. ‘He said he was unfair to you – that he was the selfish one to have demanded too much of you.’
‘Oh …’ I felt confused and hardly knew what to say. ‘Well, I suppose he doesn’t mind so much now that he’s married. You do know he is married, of course? Angie, you called her … she must be his wife.’
‘I saw her picture,’ James said. ‘She was sitting by a swimming pool at Jack’s home in Newport. That’s in Rhode Island. Jack works and lives in New York but his wife will stay there most of the time. She’s pretty, Mum. Her hair is blonde and she’s only nineteen. Jack says she’s too young for him, but he couldn’t resist her because she loves him.’
Had Jack deliberately fed my son this information to hurt me? He seemed to be telling the boy rather a lot. Too much for my comfort!
‘Why did he tell you that?’
‘Because I asked. Jack says I should always ask him whatever I want to know. He says I’m old enough to understand about life and he will always tell me the truth.’
‘I see.’ I smiled at him, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair. It was a little long and beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. ‘You are very fond of Jack, aren’t you?’
His eyes were wide and serious. ‘I love him. I can’t stop loving him because you did, Mum.’ He spoke the words without the embarrassment he would have shown had I asked him to express his love for me. It was another proof of the hold Jack had over him.
‘No, of course not.’ I felt a lump in my throat. If only he knew the truth, but I could never tell him. ‘I’m glad you love Jack. I just hope you won’t be too upset when he goes away again.’
‘Oh, no, I’m older now,’ James said. I could see the new maturity in his eyes. At eight years old, my son was thinking almost like an adult. When had that happened? Was it all due to Jack? ‘Besides, he isn’t going away for long. He and Angie are going to live in London. Jack has bought a big house and …’
The rest of James’s chatter was lost on me. I had expected that Jack’s visit would be of short duration, but he and his wife were going to live here. That meant he would continue to visit James. I would be bound to see him from time to time.
I was not sure whether that made me happy or miserable.
Chapter 4
That night, Jon tried unsuccessfully to make love to me. I went eagerly to his arms. I wanted it to happen so much. Jon needed to feel he was a complete man again – and I wanted to forget my own needs in his arms. I ached for the release of physical love, and when Jon turned away in frustration I could have wept. For myself as well as him.
I lay wakeful for hours. Neither of us spoke, and I sensed the hurt Jon was feeling. I wasn’t surprised when he left our bed. I was restless too, but could not seek relief in work. My accounts were done, and I needed to sleep to be fresh for the morning.
The lonely nights seemed to stretch ahead of me down the years. I had believed I could accept Jon’s condition, be grateful for all I had, but it was harder than I’d imagined. Jon’s frustration was a part of it. At first, he had seemed content to be with me, to touch me and kiss me, just to be able to talk and live life normally as husband and wife, but he was beginning to resent the fact that we could not have sexual relations.
I’d never really thought about the act of sexual intercourse before. To me it had always been the natural end to the pleasure of loveplay, the kissing and touching as important as the act itself. Now I began to realize that all the rest meant very little to Jon if he could not participate in the act of intercourse.
Was it the same for most men? I supposed it must be, though I suspected that most women would feel as I did. Jon had always been a considerate lover – though never as inventive or as playful as Jack. I had never reached a true climax in Jon’s arms, though I had known content at the start of our marriage.
That was before I had discovered what true fulfilment could be, before I had found myself in Jack’s arms. Perhaps I would still have felt empty if Jon had been able to make love to me as he wanted? The thought shocked and chilled me. What had I done?
Jack had tried to warn me. He had told me bluntly that my marriage could never be more than an empty sham, and he was right. I had sent him away, and for what? My hopes of returning to the comfortable, happy marriage I’d shared with Jon before he was wounded seemed out of reach.
I had been so determined to bring Jon home, but what good had come from my giving up my own needs if all I had done was to cause my husband to leave our bed in frustration?
Jack had accused me of being cruel and selfish. He’d insisted it would be kinder to let Jon go, not give him hopes of a normal life, but I had not listened. I had thought him cruel, but now I began to see that perhaps I had been if not cruel at least thoughtless to force Jon to come back to the real world – a world in which I knew now he could never be truly at home.
Tears stung my eyes but I would not let them fall. I refused to give way to self pity. I had made my choice. I would stick by it no matter what.
Yet it would be so much harder, knowing Jack was living in London. I dreaded the day when I saw his wife for the first time. Angie was only nineteen, and beautiful. The thought of Jack making love to her was almost unbearable.
Jon brought me yellow roses the next day. He offered them with a rueful smile and apologized.
‘Forgive me for what happened last night. I’m not going to put you through that again, Emma. I’ve been thinking about the problem, and I’m going to get a fresh opinion – from a specialist. Until this is sorted out, I’m going to move into the spare guest room. I’ve brought a desk and a portable typewriter. I can work in my room without disturbing you or anyone else during the day – and at night I won’t use the typewriter.’
‘Oh, Jon …’ I looked at him sadly, my heart aching. This wasn’t what I wanted. ‘Please don’t …’
‘It’s for the best,’ he said. ‘Just until I get this problem sorted out.’
He seemed confident, cheerful, as though coming to a decision had eased his frustration. What could I say? Jon had made up his own mind. I could not force him to sleep in my bed.
‘If it’s wh
at you want …’
‘I love you, Emma,’ he said and kissed my cheek. ‘I always shall love you. Please believe that – but I can’t lie beside you and know that I can’t give you what you need. I have to see a doctor I’ve been told about. He will help me overcome the problem in time. Then we can be together again.’
What if there is no cure? The question was in my mind, but I did not speak it. I could see there was no alternative. Jon was full of hope. I did not want to destroy that.
The thought of lying alone every night was distressing, but I knew it was the price I must pay.
‘I’m going upstairs to work,’ Jon said. ‘I’m sure you have lots to do, Emma. Especially if we’re going away next month. You’ll want to make sure everything is going as it should at the shops.’
‘Yes, I need to check stock levels,’ I said. ‘I must get ahead with reordering before we go.’ My heart was aching. At that moment I had no interest whatsoever in how many dresses had been sold this past week, but I knew the grief would pass. ‘And I have to buy a book for James …’
I found what I needed in the book department of Philip Matthews’ store, which was situated just off Oxford Street. There were three rather interesting volumes I thought might be useful. One was almost all pictures, with brief footnotes about lighting and focus. Another was very technical and far too complicated for James to understand by himself, but we could talk about it together – and the third was actually written for children. I bought them all and a Rupert annual for Lizzy. I was about to leave when I heard a voice I recognized and turned.
‘Emma!’ Philip Matthews cried, looking at me in delight. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Buying some books for my son. He has taken up photography. He says he’s going to be a film director when he grows up.’
‘That’s a very grown-up statement.’ Philip smiled. His hair was sleekly oiled and I could smell a light, refreshing perfume. ‘How old is he, Emma? Seven or so …’
‘He’s eight,’ I said. ‘And a few months. He has seemed to grow up fast lately.’
‘My sister tells me they do when they go to school. Of course I’m not married …’ He hesitated, looking at me uncertainly but with a hint of eagerness. ‘I’m having a party next month to celebrate my fortieth birthday. I wondered if you and your husband would like to come?’
‘That would have been nice, but we’re going away to the sea. My mother, Jon … all of us.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘I have to go now. I have an appointment. A new firm of costume makers has asked to show me their range. Scottish plaid. I thought I might try a few this winter – if they are stylish and well made.’
‘You work too hard, Emma. A woman like you shouldn’t need to work.’ His eyes seemed to convey so much more than his words.
‘I enjoy my work.’ I laughed at him, teasing him a little. ‘You’re old-fashioned, Philip. I don’t want to stay at home and be given things. I want to earn lots of money for myself. I like using my wits – and getting a good bargain from the salesmen!’
Philip’s eyes gleamed in appreciation. ‘How would you like to run my dress department?’ he asked suddenly. ‘My present buyer is leaving. I’ve been wondering whether to look for a new one or put the business out to an independent source. We might even be partners. I’d want good-quality merchandise. Your own showrooms could provide about half of the day dresses, as you do now – but I’d like some French lines. Since Dior brought out the New Look, that’s all the customers want – something with a French influence. You could pop over to Paris yourself. Buy whatever you think we could sell.’
I stared at him, surprised by the offer. It was along the lines I’d been thinking of for a while. I’d even discussed the idea with the owner of another store. A slightly smaller, less prestigious shop than this one. With all the passing trade of Oxford Street, this was a huge opportunity for me.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yes, of course. When it comes to business, I never say what I don’t mean, Emma.’
His suggestion had set my mind racing with possibilities. ‘Let me give the idea some thought. We’ll talk about it again when I come back from my holiday, Philip.’
‘I’ll take you to dinner one evening.’
‘Make it lunch,’ I said. ‘I’ll telephone you when I’m ready.’
‘I shall look forward to it, Emma.’
‘Yes, so shall I, Philip. I feel quite excited.’
His eyes lit with pleasure. I was thoughtful as I left the store. This might be just what I needed. Something new and challenging to help take me out of myself. A trip to Paris would be thrilling. I would enjoy buying the kind of stock Philip was talking about – not haute couture, of course, but well-made, top-quality clothes for women who had a little more money to spend than the average.
Yes, it would be something to look forward to. I knew of course that Philip was hoping that the relationship between us would develop into more than just business. However, I believed I could handle any offers of an intimate nature he might make. I liked Philip, and I believed our partnership might work – providing the contract was all sorted out properly first. There was no possibility of anything else. I respected Philip as a businessman, but I wasn’t interested in having an affair with him.
Despite the difficult situation between Jon and me, I had no intention of sleeping with anyone else. And if I were ever tempted, it would not be Philip Matthews who would make me change my mind.
There was only one man I wanted, and he was beyond my reach. If I could not have Jack, I did not want a substitute. I would prefer to sleep alone, as I had for several years now.
However, the business venture with Philip did interest me. I would consider the idea carefully while I was on holiday with my family.
I had found us a suitable house for the holiday in Mousehole. Set half way up the steep cliff, it was large enough to accommodate us all. We had driven down in two car loads, Sol driving my mother, Sarah and Bert, while I’d brought Jon and the children.
Pam had chosen to stay at home. ‘I’ll see to things here, Emma. My sister wants me to visit her so I’ll go down for a couple of weeks when you get back.’
‘You could do that and still come with us. Are you sure you don’t want to?’
‘Not this time.’
I was not able to persuade her so I gave in. Besides, she would be company for Sol when he returned after spending the weekend with us.
‘I’m not much of a one for the seaside and holidays,’ he’d told me when I asked him to come with us. ‘I’ll drive down for the weekend, and I’ll return to pick up your mother and Bert when they’re ready – but don’t expect me to stay and build sandcastles.’
‘Surely you can’t say you don’t like this?’ I asked as we stood in the gardens overlooking the bay that Sunday morning. ‘Look at that view, Sol! Isn’t it magnificent?’
‘Too rural for my liking.’ He pulled a face. ‘I’m a town lover, Emma. Give me more than two days of this fresh air and I get homesick for the smoke of London.’
I laughed but I knew what he meant. I was looking forward to the holiday with the children, but I would never want to live so far away from the bustling city that had become my home.
‘You must admit it’s a lovely old place though,’ I said. ‘This village is steeped in history, Sol. The Phoenician tin merchants first came here two thousand five hundred years ago.’
‘Been reading the guide books, Emma?’ His eyes gleamed with amusement.
I answered in the same light, bantering tone. ‘Yes, of course. You know what James is. He will want to know everything there is to know about Cornwall, the tin mines, smuggling, anything! He asked me what Stargazy Pie was this morning, and when he could try it.’
‘Did you know the answers?’ Sol laughed as I nodded. ‘Of course you did! You shouldn’t be surprised that James has a thirst for knowledge, or a bold imagination. You only have to look in the mirror to know the reason why.’
‘I sup
pose I’ve always thought the best way to get on was to find out as much as I could …’
‘You’re ambitious, Emma. I knew that from the first day you came to my showroom, and admired it. As I admired you for other qualities.’
There was something in Sol’s eyes at that moment, something that made me lower my gaze and feel oddly uncomfortable. We had always been friends, and I knew he cared for me, but just for an instant I had sensed more – a much stronger, deeper emotion.
‘Well, anyway, I’m going to have my work cut out keeping up with James and Lizzy. They are both adventurous, both strong-willed.’
Sol nodded but didn’t say any more. My mother called just then from the house to say that she’d made a pot of tea and our tête-à-tête was at an end.
Sol left early the next morning. I missed him, of course, but there wasn’t enough time in the days that followed to think about that look in his eyes or wonder what it meant. Nor did I wish to. I preferred to keep everything as it always had been.
For the next three weeks I hardly ever seemed to sit still. James and Lizzy wanted to explore everywhere. Sarah and I were forever taking them somewhere different, though my mother and Bert often preferred to sit in the garden and look at the view on warm afternoons. It was a restful, peaceful time for them, and they had the pleasure of the children’s company for at least a part of every day.
Despite the hectic nature of my outings with the children, I also enjoyed a few quiet moments sitting in the garden with my mother, talking to her about experiences and hopes we had shared.
‘Do you remember when you found those gold coins, Emma? Your father’s secret hoard … after all that searching, there they were in his old desk. If we’d known that sooner, we could have taken them and run away, and you wouldn’t have had to marry Richard Gillows …’
‘It would only have made Father angry,’ I said. ‘And they came to me in the end. I hardly ever think of any of that now, Mum. It’s all so far away; it seems like a dream – as if the girl who was forced to marry Richard Gillows was someone else. This is another kind of life …’
