Wives & Mothers

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  She moved her head back a little to look at him, smoothing a strand of his damply curling hair from his forehead. ‘I love you, Harry,’ she said simply. ‘I’ve loved you since the day we met.’

  He kissed her and drew her head down into the hollow of his shoulder. ‘I love you too. You’re so lovely, Stella. What did I do to deserve this?’

  ‘It’s not just sex,’ she told him gravely. ‘I could have had that with anyone. There have been plenty of other men, I admit that. But no one — I swear, no one like you.’

  A vague uneasiness stirred for the first time at the back of Harry’s mind as reality slowly seeped back. As always Stella sensed it.

  ‘I know you’re married. And I know you don’t want anything to spoil it,’ she said. ‘So if you want to stop, just say so now, darling, and this need never happen again.’

  For a fleeting second Harry wondered if she knew quite well that it was already too late. How could he not want her again after what they had just shared? Three more months of being together — working with each other every day. Having her unavoidably and tantalisingly close to him. It was too much — far too much to ask. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to resist that kind of temptation. He was pretty sure she knew it too.

  She touched his cheek. ‘Tell me about it, Harry. Tell me why you’re so unhappy.’

  He was silent, staring up at the ceiling. How could he betray Grace by telling another woman about her shortcomings, her lack of response? To a woman like Stella, warm and uninhibited, it would be impossible to understand. Besides, it wasn’t only Grace’s revulsion for sex that made the marriage dead. There were other things too: the way she refused to share his interests with him, almost as though she were punishing him for something. Sometimes he thought she despised his work too. She hadn’t said so, but he knew instinctively that she resented his closeness with Elaine and the fact that the child took after him, sharing his interest in music.

  Elaine. An instant picture of his daughter sprang into his mind, making him feel ashamed of what he had just done. He adored Elaine; loved her a little more with each year. She was growing into a lovely girl, a daughter for any father to be proud of. She would have her mother’s classic looks, and more talent for music than he had ever had. Already he could feel that in her. She worked hard at it too — never shirking her practice — always eager to improve. In her childishly penned letters she had told him that she practised every day and he believed her, touched by her diligence and her desire to please him.

  ‘Harry?’ Stella leaned across him to brush his cheek with her lips. ‘What is it, darling? Why do you look so sad? Please — you can tell me.’

  ‘Grace doesn’t love me,’ he said. ‘I don’t think she ever did. She married me to get away from an unhappy home. We parted soon afterwards, but then she found that Elaine was on the way so we patched things up. But it never really worked.’

  She raised herself on one elbow and looked down at him. ‘And you — what about you, Harry? Do you love her?’

  For a long moment he looked into the golden eyes, reaching up he stroked the thick black skein of hair that fell across her shoulder on to his chest. ‘If I did I wouldn’t be here,’ he said. ‘I’m a one woman man, Stella.’ And in that moment he knew that what he said was true.

  *

  On the day that the Himalaya docked it was wet and misty, a typical English December morning. Southampton was a grey, rain-washed blur on the skyline as they stood together on the crowded deck, waiting for the pilot to come on board. Stella huddled into the collar of the fur coat she had bought in New York and moved a little closer to Harry. Without looking at him she said: ‘You’ll be going straight home?’

  He sighed. ‘I have to, love. It’s nearly Christmas — there’s Elaine to think of.’

  ‘I know.’

  Her lovely face looked so unhappy that his heart contracted. During the trip they had made a lot of contacts. There had been offers galore, which Stella would have snapped up, but Harry was more cautious. He had deflected them all, advising that Stella’s agent should be contacted and giving out Gerry Sylvester’s card. All that remained now was for her to sit tight and wait to see if the offers were genuine.

  ‘What will you do at Christmas?’ he asked, slipping an arm round her.

  ‘Nothing.’ She shrugged. ‘I haven’t thought about it.’

  ‘I daresay the offers will have been rolling in,’ he said, trying to cheer her. ‘All we have to do is pick the best. I shall be looking in on Gerry tomorrow morning. Shall I meet you there?’

  She looked up at him hopefully. ‘Could we have lunch afterwards?’

  ‘Of course.’ He frowned. ‘But after that...’

  ‘I know. Play it down for a while.’ She looked at him again, her eyes uncertain. ‘When will you tell her, Harry?’

  ‘Not yet — not until after Christmas. For Elaine’s sake.’

  She was silent. If anything was going to keep Harry from her it would be Elaine. She was the pull — the person he dreaded hurting most. Elaine was her greatest rival. Not Grace.

  Seeing the look on her face he drew her into a sheltered corner and kissed her. ‘We knew all along that this day would come,’ he told her, cupping her face. ‘We must face it bravely. It won’t be for long. We’ll soon be working together again whatever happens.’ Whatever happens. She searched his eyes. What did he mean by that? Now that the time had come to part she was so afraid that something would happen to take him from her again. It wasn’t easy to walk away from a family, however much in love you were. She knew that. On board ship, right away from home ties, it was easy enough to pretend they didn’t exist. But once he was at home with Grace and Elaine again... She shivered.

  ‘Yes. We’ll be working together,’ she said almost inaudibly. ‘At least I can look forward to that.’

  *

  At ‘Margot’s’ it was all pre-Christmas bustle. The shop was tastefully decorated. In the window, discreetly dressed with Christmas roses and frosted evergreens, a white fur jacket and a scarlet silk dress tempted passers-by. Margaret Bennett was delighted with the first months’ success. On Christmas Eve when they closed the shop, she gave Grace a handsome bonus along with her pay envelope, and presented her with a gift-wrapped blouse from stock that she knew Grace had had her eye on.

  ‘I think we’re going to make a great team, Grace,’ she said. ‘Before long we’ll be able to open another branch at this rate.’ She opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. ‘Have a drink with me before you go.’

  Grace sipped at the sweet sparkling wine with satisfaction. She felt like a real businesswoman. Before, she’d simply had a job. Now, thanks to Margaret, she had a career.

  ‘Tell me about your Christmas,’ Margaret invited. ‘You must be looking forward to it — planning a celebration. It must be nice to have Harry home again.’

  Grace nodded, forcing a smile. It had been good to see him home again. She’d found herself quite excited on the day he’d been due. Elaine could hardly contain herself, running to the window every ten minutes to see if he was coming down the road. It had been late afternoon when he’d arrived. And Grace had known the moment she saw him that there was something wrong. He looked well enough; tanned from all the sunny weather, fitter and more handsome than she’d ever seen him, in fact. He’d kissed them both warmly enough, but was it her imagination that he couldn’t quite meet her eyes?

  Elaine wouldn’t leave him alone, sitting on his knee and chattering incessantly; asking him a dozen questions all at once. He’d unpacked all the presents he’d brought, souvenirs for both of them from almost every place he’d visited. They’d sat down to the special evening meal that Grace had prepared and Harry had invited them to tell him their news too. But before she could tell him how well the shop was doing and how excited she was about her new career, Elaine had jumped up and gone to the piano to show him how hard she had practised. Late, after Elaine had finally been persuaded to go to bed, Grace had told him abo
ut ‘Margot’s’, but even then she couldn’t be sure that he was really listening. He was tired. She told herself that it was understandable. Finally they’d gone to bed and she had steeled herself for the inevitable, but to her surprise it hadn’t happened. Instead, Harry had patted her absently, briefly kissing her cheek.

  ‘It’s been a long day, love. I expect you’re as tired as I am,’ he’d said, rolling away from her to lie on his side. But she’d known he wasn’t asleep. For a long time she lay there looking into the darkness, wondering why her relief should be tempered with such uneasiness.

  Harry had lain awake too, thinking about Stella alone in her flat; longing for her, wondering how he was going to break the news to Grace that their marriage was over. While Stella and he had been together everything had been so simple and straightforward, but now that he was home it all seemed hideously complicated — almost unreal. Lying there, he recalled unhappily the day he’d brought the girl from Alfredo’s band back to the flat for a drink that had led to other things. And Grace’s reaction when she had come home unexpectedly and caught them. It was a long time ago but the memory of her hysterical violence still sent shivers down his spine. Grace hadn’t wanted him herself. She’d made him feel worthless and rejected. The girl had obviously found him attractive. She’d been a temptation he’d foolishly and disastrously succumbed to. If — when — Grace knew about Stella would her reaction be the same? And Elaine, what about Elaine? How did he explain the situation to an eleven-year-old girl? His heart ached at the prospect of losing his daughter. So much so that he pushed the thought from his mind. She was his, after all. Grace couldn’t alter that — couldn’t prevent him from seeing his own daughter. Finally he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion to dream muddled confused dreams that made him wake with a thick head and stinging eyes.

  He arrived at Gerry’s office half an hour before Stella next morning. The girl in the outer office wore her usual disgruntled expression. She looked vaguely put out when he walked in, looking pointedly at her watch. But she went grudgingly through to Gerry’s office and came back to say that he was free.

  By contrast, Gerry greeted him jovially, rising to shake his hand. ‘Well, how are you, Harry, old fellow? I must say you look well.’

  ‘I am, thank you. The trip was marvellous, the experience of a lifetime.’

  Gerry sat down and looked at his appointment book. ‘Stella is coming in too this morning. I expected to see the two of you together. She’s had no shortage of offers — some of them quite promising too.’

  ‘I know. That’s partly why I’m here early. I need to talk to you.’

  Gerry looked at his client with narrowed eyes. He and Harry went back a long way and he knew him well enough to sense his uneasiness. ‘What is it? Not happy about continuing as her arranger, that it?’ He pushed his cigarette box across the desk. Harry took one and lit it thoughtfully.

  ‘Too happy, if the truth were known,’ he said at last.

  Gerry frowned and leaned back in his chair. ‘Ah. If you mean what I think you mean...’

  ‘I do.’ Harry leaned forward to stub out the barely smoked cigarette. ‘I know what you’ll probably say, Gerry — a shipboard romance; unnatural conditions and all that. But it isn’t like that. It’s real. We love each other.’

  Gerry was reminded sharply of the day when Grace had come to him, begging for information about her husband — waiflike and deserted — her pride in her hands as she’d appealed to him. He’d never known the reason for their parting that time but he’d felt sorry for them both and been glad he was able to help get them back together again.

  ‘I see. So what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Christ, Gerry, I wish I knew.’ Harry reached for another cigarette.

  ‘Well, as I see it, you only have two options. Either you make a clean break at home and stay with Stella, or you let me fix her up with one of the overseas offers she’d had and you make a fresh start.’

  ‘I can’t let her go, Gerry.’ Harry’s voice was heavy with misery. ‘I can’t.’

  There was a moment’s silence as Gerry thoughtfully watched his friend. He’d had his doubts about the success of his marriage for some time, but he did know how much Harry’s daughter meant to him. He had brought her up to the office with him many times and the two were obviously close. He must be seriously besotted with Stella to contemplate leaving Elaine. Why was it that some people made such a mess of their lives? Still, it wasn’t for him to judge. If his clients weren’t happy in their private lives, they didn’t work well. Their success at work was his priority. He opened a file that lay on the desk before him. ‘I received a new offer for Stella just yesterday,’ he said. ‘It’s to appear in a new American musical. Off Broadway to begin with, but the backers are confident it’ll move up.’ He looked up at Harry. ‘They’ll take her alone, or if you’re willing they’ll have you both. You’d arrange her numbers, play for rehearsals, and generally see fair play. How to you feel about it?’

  ‘I’ll have to have time to talk to Stella — see what she thinks.’

  Gerry leaned across the desk. ‘But what do you want, Harry? If you take my advice you’ll think very carefully before you do take a step like this.’ He closed the file and pushed it away. ‘Look, I’ll be frank with you. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even offer you a job like this. It’s hack work. You deserve better. It’s not going to advance your career one bit, and you have to think of yourself too, you know.’ He chewed his lip. ‘Why don’t you let her go alone, lad? Give yourself some time to get her out of your system? Okay, so she’s a dish and you’ve got the hots for her right at this moment, but it’ll pass.’

  Harry looked up angrily. ‘You make it sound so cheap and sordid. It’s not like that.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Look, Gerry, leaving work out of it for a minute — Grace and I haven’t really been hitting it off for years. She’s a fine woman, a good wife and mother in many ways except...’

  Gerry nodded perceptively. ‘Except in the area that matters most, is that it?’

  Once again Gerry had made it sound sordid; made Harry feel shallow and faithless. No one would ever understand what he had been through if they hadn’t experienced it themselves. He wouldn’t know how to begin to describe the aridity of the last eleven years.

  Gerry was lighting another cigar, meticulously cutting the end and holding it in the flame of his lighter. ‘Come on, lad,’ he said calmly. ‘There are always ways of easing that kind of problem. Surely there’s no need to break up your home and family? You’ll only regret it, you know.’

  ‘I’ll take the job — if Stella wants it too,’ Harry said decisively.

  Gerry looked up with raised eyebrows. ‘Just as you say, Harry.’ he said with a shrug. ‘It’s your life.’

  *

  Stella did want it. When she came in and heard about it her face lit up with delight. An hour later they walked out of the office arm in arm and made for their own special little pub in Villiers Street. As he sat opposite her, their drinks on the table in front of them, Harry thought she had never looked so beautiful. She was almost incandescent with happiness.

  ‘I can hardly believe it, Harry,’ she said. ‘You and me in New York. A brand new musical. I shan’t mind being alone for a little while now.’ She reached for his hand and held it tightly. ‘You are happy, aren’t you, darling?’

  Harry swallowed hard. ‘I will be when we’re on the plane — on our way,’ he told her with a smile. ‘Until then, I can’t quite believe it’s happening.’ What he didn’t tell her was how much he dreaded all that must inevitably come before.

  *

  Christmas Day was for Elaine. Both Grace and Harry made sure that she enjoyed it, but by then both were aware of the gathering storm. Harry knew that it could no longer be postponed. Grace had already steeled herself for whatever was to come. Ever since he had come home, especially since he had been to see Gerry Sylvester on the morning after, there had been an abstracted, brooding
air about him. Some feminine instinct deep inside told her that her marriage was about to fall apart. But that instinct was overlaid by the practicalities of everyday life. The Christmas preparations, the daily routine of work and home that forced everything to appear normal — made it possible to believe for just a little longer that whatever it was, wasn’t happening.’

  It was after Elaine had gone to bed and he had been up to make sure that she was asleep that Harry decided that he could put off the moment no longer. Sitting opposite Grace in the living room, the coloured lights of the Christmas tree twinkling in the firelight, he said awkwardly: ‘Grace, there’s something I have to tell you.’

  She looked up, meeting his eyes defensively, and he saw in that moment that she already knew. ‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That girl — that singer? Ruby Rainbow or whatever her silly name is?’ Her voice was tight and tears of hurt stood in her eyes. He saw them glistening in the flickering light of the flames.

  ‘Grace — I never meant — never wanted to hurt you. But you never wanted me, did you? Not really.’ He trailed off. What he was saying suddenly sounded so superficial, so shallow. And yet...

  ‘How could you?’ she said reproachfully. Then her tone sharpened. ‘The dirty little slut invited you into her bed and now you think you’re in love with her. Can’t you see that it’s only — only sexual drive. Are you really so stupid that you think it’ll last? A woman like that isn’t satisfied with one man.’

  He stared at her. What did Grace know about sexual drive, for Christ’s sake? Roused to sudden anger he lashed out at her: ‘Yes, it will last, and I’ll tell you why, shall I? Stella is warm and generous. She isn’t afraid to show her love in the way a real woman should. All these years, Grace, you’ve made me feel ashamed just because I wanted to make love to you — my wife. You made me feel that I was making unreasonable demands — that I was doing something nasty and grubby that I should be ashamed of. If you really want to know Stella makes me feel like a man again. She wants me — not just for material things or even for my music, but because I’m the man she loves and wants.’