The Hearts That Hold

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘Of course, Mother,’ James said. He sounded so cold, so withdrawn. ‘I’m always ready to oblige my mother. If of course she is my mother – one can never be sure of these things …’

  He walked from the room without waiting for an answer. I stared after him, feeling helpless. Should I follow him? Should I make some attempt to explain?

  ‘Don’t try,’ Sol warned, reading my mind. ‘Let him calm down, Emma. Nothing you can say at this moment is going to make much difference. Besides, you’re in no fit state to say anything sensible just now.’

  He pulled me to my feet. Lizzy came to take hold of my arm and lead me to the settee. She was pale and shocked, tears in her eyes.

  ‘Sit down, Emmie,’ she said. ‘Grandma was ill. She was ill for a long time. It’s not your fault.’

  ‘No, it’s not my fault.’ I sat in silence, heart aching. If it was not my fault, why did I feel so guilty?

  ‘I think I should go,’ Paul said into the silence. ‘I’m very sorry, Emma.’ He laid a printed card on the coffee table. ‘If you should need me at any time …’

  ‘She won’t,’ Sol said. ‘She has us. You’ve done enough damage, Greenslade. Stay away from her – and James.’

  ‘Sol …’

  I searched for my handkerchief and blew my nose as Paul walked out without another word. Sol was being unfair to Paul. It wasn’t his fault that Mum had blurted out the secret I had kept for so long. Nor was it hers. I should have told James the truth years ago. This mess was entirely of my own making.

  I glanced up at Lizzy’s anxious face. ‘Go after James, darling. See if you can talk to him. Tell him I will explain everything later.’

  ‘Yes, Emmie.’

  Lizzy was very upset herself. She had loved Mum. I was sure James did too, which made things very much worse. He had just received two harsh knocks. I was worried about how he would manage to cope with them.

  Sol had closed Mum’s eyes. He rang for Mrs Jordan.

  ‘Oh, Mrs Reece,’ she said as she came in. ‘I was afraid of something like this. Mrs Fitch hasn’t eaten a thing all day – and she seemed so odd when I took her tray up earlier. Wandering in her mind, she was.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I knew she wasn’t well, but this was so sudden. I asked James to telephone for the doctor – do you know whether or not he got through?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure he has. I heard him telling the doctor what had happened. He went upstairs afterwards. Lizzy followed him. He seemed very upset. She called to him – but he wouldn’t answer her.’

  ‘He was fond of his grandmother.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Oh, dear, what a terrible thing to happen. It is very upsetting for everyone.’

  ‘Bring a shawl,’ Sol said. ‘Something to cover her face.’

  ‘Yes, sir. The poor lady …’

  I couldn’t prevent a sob escaping as Mrs Jordan left.

  ‘I should have expected it,’ I said as Sol sat next to me and took my hand. ‘But she wasn’t old, Sol.’

  ‘A year or so younger than me …’

  ‘Oh, Sol,’ I wailed. ‘Don’t you dare die on me! I couldn’t bear it.’

  He smiled oddly. ‘I’m not going to die just yet, my dear.’

  ‘I feel so helpless …’

  Mrs Jordan returned with a silk shawl of my mother’s. I took it from her, then knelt down and kissed Mum’s lips before putting the shawl over her.

  ‘Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down?’ Sol suggested. ‘I’ll stay with Greta.’

  ‘No. No, thank you. I’ll stay with her until the doctor has been. I couldn’t leave her, Sol. I just couldn’t …’

  It was nearly four o’clock before all the formalities had been completed. My mother was in her own room, the curtains closed.

  I left her lying there. She looked peaceful, younger than she had for a while. Perhaps in death she was reunited with her Bert: I hoped so with all my heart.

  I knew I had to speak to James. Perhaps he would let me try to explain. It would not be easy. He had not liked Paul, and my mother’s dramatic revelations would be hard for him to accept.

  I knocked at his door twice before he answered. I was about to turn away when he suddenly opened it.

  ‘Come in, Ma. I was expecting you.’

  I followed him inside. His bed was covered in photographs. He seemed to be sorting through piles of old ones.

  ‘I was looking for a photo I took of Grandma,’ he said, frowning. ‘When we were all together in Cornwall that time – Jon and Bert were there, too.’

  His face was expressionless, but I could see that he was holding himself on a tight rein. He was grieving for his grandmother, but didn’t want me to see it.

  ‘She had been ill for a long time, James. She would have hated to be confined to bed or paralysed. In some ways I suppose it was a release for her.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ He turned away but not before I had seen the flicker of pain in his eyes. ‘People die. It can’t be helped. We shall all die one day. Even you and me …’

  ‘James, please don’t.’ I was upset by his show of indifference, because I knew it was false. ‘Don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about your father a long time ago. It just seemed easier not to – but it was wrong.’

  ‘I knew Jon wasn’t my father,’ James said with a careless shrug. ‘I asked him about it that summer. He told me you had been married before – that my name had been changed to his by means of a special deed.’

  ‘Jon told you?’ I was shocked. ‘I never knew that. He should not have done that without asking me.’

  ‘I had sort of guessed anyway. I heard Grandma talking to Bert about your first husband. They often used to talk in front of me as though I couldn’t hear – but I listened and gradually I began to understand. So I asked Jon for the truth, and he told me. I thought that was pretty decent of him; at least he gave me credit for having the sense to understand.’

  ‘Oh, James … I didn’t want you to know any of this. It wasn’t that I thought you wouldn’t understand – I meant to protect you. Your father deserted me. I didn’t think he was important.’

  ‘Is Greenslade really the one?’ James seemed almost detached. ‘I used to hope it was Jack – but he told me you didn’t actually meet until after the war began. So it couldn’t have been him – though you were lovers. I know that’s true, so don’t deny it.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to try. We did meet soon after I married. Jack was a good friend to me from the start. I tried not to like him too much, then, when I believed Jon was dead …’ I took a deep breath. ‘I was very much in love with Jack.’

  ‘And were you in love with my father?’

  ‘I thought so at the time. I was very young then. Paul made love to me, then went off to America. I was pregnant. My father forced me to marry a man called Richard Gillows. I didn’t love him. I didn’t really like him much, but there was no choice. Once we were married, I tried to make a go of it, but he was jealous of you and the man who had fathered you – and it drove him to drink. He became violent and abused me. I changed your name because I didn’t want you to grow up with his …’

  James nodded, as if he already knew the story.

  ‘He was killed on the railway line when the police were looking for him. Some railwaymen went after him and he ran across in front of a non-stop train. He murdered my great-grandmother … I found some newspaper cuttings in your desk, Mum. You really shouldn’t have kept them if you didn’t want me to know. There was even a picture of you at the time … it made you look dowdy and poor. But perhaps you were in those days.’

  ‘I didn’t have much money until after my own father died and I came to London. I had what he left me then, and I’ve put it to good use – that’s why I wanted to work. So that we would always have security.’

  ‘Yes, I had managed to gather most of that.’

  ‘So you had worked it all out long ago?’

  ‘Most of it,’ James admitted, ‘But n
ot which one of them was my father. I thought it was probably the murderer: it made sense that you wouldn’t want anyone to know you’d had his child. Of course I didn’t know there was another lover lurking about in your past … you’ve been rather busy in that department, haven’t you, Ma?’

  ‘James! There’s no call for such remarks. Please try to understand. I was very young when I met Paul. I had never been allowed to go anywhere or do anything. He was the first man to kiss me.’

  ‘You’ve made up for it since, haven’t you? How many more men have you had? Or shouldn’t one ask?’

  His sneering tone appalled me. ‘How dare you?’ I was angry. Without thinking, I slapped his face. ‘Apologize, James!’

  ‘Or what? Will you cut off my allowance? Or lock me in my room? That wouldn’t work for long. You would have to let me out sooner or later.’ He smiled oddly. ‘I can’t quite see you starving me into submission, Ma.’

  ‘I could curtail your freedom. You wouldn’t enjoy having to stay in, instead of going out with your friends. I could take away the keys to your car.’

  The small Morris I had bought him for his eighteenth birthday was his pride and joy.

  ‘Yes, I suppose you could. I could always climb out of the window, of course. I might fall and break my neck. You wouldn’t like that, Ma.’

  ‘Please don’t say foolish things. I’m sorry I slapped you. I shouldn’t have done it.’ I looked at him anxiously. ‘Please don’t be angry, James. Paul is at least a gentleman. He may be working as a salesman now, but he was an architect when I met him. My father was a shopkeeper. Paul was gentry.’

  His smile disappeared and he was suddenly showing his anger.

  ‘Oh, that makes things very much better. Greenslade seduces my mother, then goes off to America – but he was an architect and gentry so that was all right. Unfortunately, he’s now a drunk and a failure.’

  I was distressed by his attitude.

  ‘Don’t be such a snob, James. We came from working stock. I’ve made money, and you’ve been educated at the best schools. You have been fortunate. You should be more generous to others who are less so. Paul went to pieces after his wife and daughter were killed in a car crash. Perhaps he was weak and foolish, but that doesn’t make him any less a gentleman – or a bad person.’

  ‘Are you going to marry him now?’

  ‘Of course not! I told you I wasn’t interested in Paul. I merely asked him to lunch because he wanted to see you …’

  ‘How can I believe you? You tell lies, Mother. You should have told me the truth years ago.’

  ‘Yes, I should. I am sorry, James. Please believe me. I wanted to wait until you were older – then it didn’t seem to matter. I hadn’t seen Paul for years …’

  ‘You could have warned me this morning – told me that your guest was my father.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I could.’ I ought to have done, of course but I had been afraid of his reaction. ‘I suppose I might have done in time – if you had liked Paul.’

  ‘Well, I don’t suppose it matters much,’ James said, resuming his mask of indifference. ‘I don’t want to see him again. I hope you won’t tell me it’s my duty?’

  ‘No, I shan’t do that. You are old enough to make up your own mind.’

  ‘Then we might as well forget the whole thing.’

  I felt helpless as I sensed the anger James was holding inside. It was eating at him, making him bitter – and it had been there before this morning.

  ‘Please don’t hate me, James.’

  He looked surprised. ‘Why should I? We’re very much alike, Ma. I think I take after you rather than him. You’ve always done what you want – and so do I.’

  ‘You make me sound selfish.’ I was hurt by his insinuation that I had always thought of myself first.

  ‘I’m sorry if you think that. I’m actually quite proud of you. Not everyone is as gifted or as determined as you. You had nothing when you came to London – now you’re rich. That’s quite an achievement.’

  ‘You blame me for leaving you, don’t you, James? When you were small. I thought I was doing the right thing …’

  ‘Of course you did, it suited you. It doesn’t matter. I’m over eighteen now, almost an adult in the eyes of society. I might skip college and take off somewhere. See a bit of the world …’

  ‘You should finish your education first … for your own sake.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see. I’m coming to France with you and Lizzy anyway. I’ll think about things while we’re there – then decide what to do.’ James smiled at me, but the expression in his eyes was veiled, distant. ‘Don’t look so upset, Ma. It isn’t the end of the world. Everyone tells a few lies. I dare say I’ll get used to the idea that my father is a lush. It is marginally better than him being a murderer.’

  ‘I didn’t lie to you. I simply wanted to protect you.’

  ‘Of course you did, Ma. It was all for my sake.’

  I realized he wasn’t listening. Nothing I could say would make a difference. I wished he would shout at me as he had when he was a child. At least then I could take him in my arms and comfort him. I couldn’t reach this sophisticated stranger.

  ‘I’ve always loved you, James,’ I said. ‘I’ve never stopped caring or thinking about you. If you choose not to believe anything else I say – at least believe that.’

  ‘But you take your love away as easily as you give it,’ he said. ‘Jack thought you loved him.’

  ‘Jack knows I love him,’ I replied. ‘We quarrelled, but we never stopped loving each other. I shall love him until the day I die.’

  I turned and left the room before he could answer. Perhaps one day he would be able to forgive me. It would be a long time before I could forgive myself.

  There was so much love inside James, but he was afraid to give it to anyone. Afraid that he would be hurt – and I had done that to him. Somehow over the years I had lost my son’s trust, and I did not know how to win it back.

  In the days leading up to Mum’s funeral, and those that followed it, I saw very little of James. I did not try to curtail his freedom. It would have been pointless. I had no desire to punish him, only to heal the hurt inside us both.

  If he was still angry and resentful, he gave no outward sign of it – except in his manner towards me. With everyone else he was his charming self: polite, respectful to Sol, friendly to Francine and Mrs Jordan, with both of whom he was a favourite. Only I received the cool polite smiles he usually reserved for strangers.

  Mum’s death seemed to have brought James and Lizzy closer together. They stood holding hands at the graveside, and later I saw James with his arm about her waist, as if giving her comfort.

  James was polite to me whenever we spoke. He smiled and called me Ma as he always did, but I sensed a distance in him. I would have liked to bridge the gap between us, but he would not let me.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I said to Sol the night before we three were due to leave for France. ‘I feel as if I’ve lost him. I love him, but he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t need me.’

  ‘He’s an adult,’ Sol said. ‘But inside there’s a bit of the sulky little boy left, Emma. He was fond of Greta – and the way she died was enough to upset anyone. Give him time. When he’s older – when he’s had more experience of life – he will come back to you. You may have left him a few times when he was little, but you’ve been a damned good mother to the both of them. You’ve worked hard and you weren’t always around, but you loved him and that should have been enough. James has no idea how lucky he has been so far. But he will find out, believe me there are a lot of surprises in store for that lad.’

  Sol’s words comforted me a little. There was nothing I could do to change my son’s perception of me for the moment. He had begun to distrust me when he was little more than a babe in arms, and his unease over his paternity had grown with the years. I was sorry that Jon had told him he was not his father yet omitted to tell me. Had I known perhaps we might
have talked then, and saved so many years of hurt.

  Because I had hurt my son more than once. I had never meant to do so, but I had just the same. He couldn’t forgive me for sending Jack away, and now he had discovered that his father was a man he could not like or admire.

  I had always tried to do the right thing for us all, but I had made so many mistakes.

  Without Sol and Lizzy, I might have given into despair. I was missing my mother so much. We’d had our differences at various times, but she had always loved me.

  I was glad we were going to France. Perhaps a change of scenery would do us all good.

  Chapter 13

  Sheila’s large, luxurious villa nestled amongst trees as it overlooked the beautiful bay on the Cote d’Azur, its white-washed walls softened by the lush greenery around it. The sun was very warm, and the sea sparkled below us like blue diamonds, the air perfumed by the scent of flowers that grew wild down the hillside.

  ‘This is pure heaven,’ I said and sighed, stretching luxuriously on my reclining chair. We were sitting on a terrace overlooking the swimming pool, which was down on the level just below us, and the bay itself. ‘I feel so much better after just two weeks here. You are very lucky to have this place, Sheila. I’m only surprised that you can bear to leave it at all.’

  ‘I shan’t be leaving it much in future – unless I come to London to visit you.’

  I was surprised by her statement, and turned my head to look at her. She was staring straight ahead, her face strained and a little bleak. I thought she was upset, but trying to hide it.

  ‘What do you mean? Won’t you be going on tour with Todd later this year? I thought you told me he was going out to Australia for three months?’

  ‘Todd is, I’m not,’ Sheila said and pulled a face. She flicked her fingers through her immaculately cut short hair, which at the moment was bleached to a silver blonde. ‘It’s over, Emma. I can’t complain. I’ve had a good run for my money.’