Wives & Mothers

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  Tom held the buzzing receiver away from him and stared at it. ‘Cretin,’ he said explosively as he dropped it back onto its rest. ‘Must want your head examining.’ This French bird must be quite something if she was worth ditching Ellie for. Turning, he came face to face with Morgan. He clapped one hand over his chest. ‘Gawd, you made me jump.’

  Morgan looked embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, Look, I heard the phone ring and thought it might be for me. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were shouting at each other.’

  ‘Patrick was phoning from the call box. You have to yell because of the traffic.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’m going round to the shop now. Do you want me to give Elaine the message?’

  Tom shook his head. ‘No. I’ll see it through. It’s always the younger brother who gets the shitty end of the stick, but there it is, I suppose.’

  ‘Her mother thinks she’s staying with a friend,’ Morgan said reproachfully.

  Tom nodded. ‘She is — or rather, was.’

  ‘Well, it’s nothing to do with me, of course, but I wouldn’t like to see Elaine, or Grace get hurt.’

  Tom turned to look at him. ‘Believe me, neither would I,’ he said seriously. ‘You might think I’m a bit of a clown, Morgan, but I am fond of Elaine, which is why I’m going to pass this message on to her personally.’ He fixed Morgan with a steely look. ‘It’s also why I hope no one is going to blow the whistle on her, right?’

  ‘You don’t have to worry. I won’t say anything.’ Morgan looked at his watch. ‘But if you’re going to stop her catching the four o’clock train you’d better let me give you a lift round there now. It’s half-two. She’s probably started packing by now.’

  *

  It was almost half-past four when Elaine finally arrived at the flat. She’d got a little bit lost on the Underground, but in the end she managed to get on to the right train. The flat was one of three, over a men’s outfitters and reached by a side entrance. Beside the door was a row of bells with cards beside them. She rang the one with Patrick’s name and waited. When there was no reply her heart sank. Surely he wouldn’t have left this early to meet her train? She picked up her case and was just turning away when she heard movement in the narrow passage on the other side of the door. A moment later it opened and Patrick’s astonished face peered out at her.

  ‘Elaine!’

  She laughed uncertainly. ‘Yes, I know I’m early, but I thought you wouldn’t mind. I caught the two o’clock train.’ She frowned. ‘It is all right, isn’t it? I mean, you were expecting me this weekend?’

  ‘Of course.’ He recovered, reaching out to take her case. ‘Come on in.’ He closed the door and then turned to look at her. ‘It’s just — look, someone has arrived unexpectedly. She’s from France — a student who was on an exchange last term. The boys and I made friends with her. She’s over for a visit and she just sort of turned up at lunchtime. I could hardly chuck her out, could I?’

  He looked harassed and not at all pleased to see her. He hadn’t even kissed her. Elaine’s heart plummeted.’You mean, she’s staying here?’ she asked.

  He laughed. ‘Oh, good Lord, no. She just looked in for a chat — didn’t realise the others had gone home for the holidays. Look, come up and meet her.’ He led the way up the stairs but Elaine noticed that he pushed her case surreptitiously into a cupboard on the landing before opening the living room door.

  ‘Ann-Marie — this is Elaine,’ he said, his voice loud and unnaturally jovial. ‘She’s an old friend of my family from Cambridge — from home.’

  Ann-Marie was taller than Elaine and seemed to tower over her in her long black dress. She inspected rather than looked at her, with sloe-dark eyes skilfully accentuated with heavy black liner. Her thick black hair hung around her like a glossy cloak and silver chains jangled at her neck and wrists. She held out one long, white, heavily ringed hand and smiled with her blood-red mouth.

  ‘’ow do you do?’ Her voice was low and richly accented. Elaine felt intimidated.

  ‘How nice to meet you. Are you staying long?’ She blushed. ‘I mean in England, of course.’

  ‘Ann-Marie is over for a couple of weeks, visiting friends,’ Patrick put in.

  ‘Zees is right.’ Ann-Marie gave Patrick an enigmatic smile. Then she said, as though on cue: ‘I’ave to go now, Patreek. I see you again before you leave, eh? You’ave ze number I geev to you? You let me know about ze apartment?’

  Patrick took her arm, steering her towards the door. ‘Yes, I’ll be in touch. I’ll come down and see you out.’ He looked over his shoulder at Elaine. ‘Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.’

  But it seemed to Elaine that he was an inordinately long time. Very firmly she closed her mind to the thoughts and suspicions that chased each other through it. She bit her lip hard, despising herself — wishing she didn’t mind so much — that she trusted Patrick more. After all, he had never given her any reason not to. When he came back he was smiling brightly as though nothing had happened.

  ‘Sorry about that. Now, what can I get you? You must be dying for a drink of some sort.’

  ‘Who is she?’

  He looked at her, his brows coming together with a twinge of annoyance. ‘What do you mean, who is she? She’s Ann-Marie Labeque. I introduced her, didn’t I?’

  ‘I mean what is she to you, Patrick. You know perfectly well what I mean.’

  ‘She’s just another art student.’

  ‘From France.’

  ‘Yes. From Reims as a matter of fact. She was over here last term on an exchange.’

  ‘I see. She must like you a lot to have come back to see you.’

  ‘I told you, she came to see us all. I happened to be the only one here.’

  ‘What did she mean about an apartment?’

  ‘She knows of one I might rent in Paris.’

  ‘I see.’ She walked to the window to stare down unseeingly into the busy street. ‘What a disappointment it must have been when I turned up.’ She turned to look at him, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. ‘Maybe it was for you too?’

  He sighed, then crossed the room to her. ‘Oh, Ellie. Are you going to let it spoil our weekend? If you’d come on the train you said you were catching, she’d have been gone by the time you got here. I’d have been at the station to meet you, and you...’

  ‘Would never have known. Is that what you were going to say?’

  He reached out to rest his hands on her shoulders. ‘Whether you knew about her or not is immaterial. She’s just a friend. Lots of friends pass through this flat. Sometimes it’s like Piccadilly Circus.’ He drew her gently towards him. ‘Ellie, you’re not jealous, are you?’

  Her lip quivered. ‘ No. It’s just...’

  ‘Just what?’ His arms were round her now and his lips were brushing her cheek.

  ‘Just — oh, Patrick...’ She swallowed hard at the lump in her throat. ‘I’ve been looking forward to seeing you so much. Arriving early was meant to be a surprise and — and...’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘And...’ His closeness — the touch of his hands was beginning to turn her knees to water and sending the familiar shivers up and down her spine. She was finding it difficult to concentrate. She felt his hand slide down her back to draw her closer. Very gently he tipped up her chin, lifting her face so that he could look into her eyes.

  ‘Yes. And...?’

  ‘And, you haven’t even kissed me yet.’

  He chuckled softly. ‘Ah, is that all? Well, we can soon do something about that...’

  Her lips parted for him and she closed her eyes, her heart quickening as she tasted the familiar longed for taste of him. Her arms wound tightly around his neck and she pressed close to him, her heart quickening as her softness moulded against the hard muscle of his body. She had waited so long for this moment.

  Their mouths were still joined as he slid an arm beneath her legs and lifted her into his arms. Shouldering open the door of his bedroom he deposited
her on the bed and began to undress.

  ‘We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,’ he whispered as he lay down beside her and began to unbutton her shirt.

  As she felt the breathless thrill of his naked skin against hers, the last doubt in her mind evaporated and she gave herself up to his lovemaking. When he held her like this, when their limbs entwined and the rhythm of their movements matched the beat of their hearts, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. She moaned, arching her body eagerly for him. He did love her. He couldn’t make love to her like this if he didn’t, could he?

  Much later they went out to dinner. Patrick took her to a little Italian restaurant in what had once been a cellar. All around the whitewashed walls were photographs of well-known actors, musicians and artists. They sat at tables with red checked table cloths and little candle lamps and ate the best spaghetti Bolognese Elaine had ever tasted. They also drank a lot of red wine. They walked back to the flat under a velvet sky studded with stars, climbed the dark stairs hand-in-hand and fell eagerly back into the tumbled bed to make love till dawn began to bleach the sky.

  *

  ‘But why did Tom want to speak to Elaine,?’

  Morgan shrugged. ‘I think he had some kind of message for her.’

  ‘But he seemed so taken aback when I said she’d gone. He turned quite pale.’

  Morgan laughed. ‘Tom? Turn pale? That’ll be the day.’

  Grace frowned. There was something here she didn’t quite understand. ‘What was this message he had for her? You brought him round here in the car. He must have told you.’

  Morgan frowned. ‘He had a call — from the friend Elaine was staying with, I think.’

  ‘But why would she telephone the Carnes’? She must have known our number.’ She touched Morgan’s arm. ‘What was the message? It must have been urgent for him to come haring round here like that. Morgan, there’s nothing wrong, is there?’

  Morgan was in a spot. He was no good at telling lies, especially to people he was fond of. ‘No. Nothing like that. The friend wanted her to catch another train. I — think something had come up and she wasn’t going to be able to meet Elaine. That’s all.’

  Grace frowned. ‘This friend — it isn’t Patrick, is it?’

  ‘Patrick?’ He felt stupid and inadequate. Once again he felt the warm colour creeping up his neck. His collar suddenly felt as though it had shrunk and he longed to loosen it.

  ‘I know she was seeing him. And he’s going away for two years,’ Grace said half to herself. ‘She’s been so preoccupied lately. I put it down to the driving test...’ She turned to him. ‘You don’t think she’d be foolish enough to let him persuade her to spend a last weekend with him, do you?’

  Morgan coughed to clear his constricted throat. ‘What, Elaine? I’m sure she wouldn’t.’ To his relief Grace let the matter drop. As soon as he got back to the Carnes’ that evening, he went up to Tom’s room.

  ‘Did you manage to contact Patrick and let him know Elaine had already left?’ he asked.

  Tom shook his head. ‘No, I couldn’t. They’re not on the phone at the flat. They have to use a call box just outside in the street.’

  ‘So she would have turned up unexpectedly?’

  ‘Yes.’

  For a moment they stared at each other, each picturing the scene in his own way.

  ‘There’s nothing either of us can do about it now,’ Tom said at last. ‘We’ll just have to hope it worked out okay.’

  It was the following morning when Morgan arrived at the shop that Grace faced him with the direct question: ‘It is Patrick she’s gone to, isn’t it?’

  He hedged: ‘Who?’

  ‘Elaine, of course. Come on, Morgan. I’m her mother. If you know anything, you owe it to me to tell me. She’s only seventeen, you know.’

  He looked at his feet. ‘Grace — don’t. I gave my word.’

  ‘Gave your word? Who to — to Elaine? She confided in you?’ He shook his head. ‘No, Tom. Patrick rang yesterday afternoon to try to put her off. That was the message.’

  ‘But she’d already left.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Morgan,’ She grasped his arm. ‘Why didn’t you tell me then? I could have gone and brought her back. They’ve been together all night now. Do you realise what that means?’ She was almost hysterical and he took her shoulders firmly and pressed her into a chair.

  ‘Look, Grace, Elaine isn’t a child any more. She’s a woman. Things are different from when you were — well, they’re different now. I really don’t believe there’s anything you could have done.’ But Grace was silent, her mind seething with loathsome pictures. She was remembering things she’d tried not to think about for a long time. Suddenly she could hear her father’s wheedling voice again and her flesh crawled as she felt his large soft hands touching her skin. She recalled with vivid clarity the day she came back to the flat in Hackney and found Harry in bed with that girl — writhing — their naked limbs entwined. Her heart began to race and the breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she felt suffocated. The room began to swim dizzily in front of her eyes.

  ‘Grace — Grace.’ Morgan was pushing her head down between her knees. ‘Hold on, I’ll get you a glass of water.’

  With a great effort she controlled her panic. ‘I’m — I’ll be all right. Just give me a moment.’ She sat very still, her face ashen, forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply. Looking up at Morgan she dimly registered his anxious expression and she attempted a reassuring smile.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Are you ill? Do you need a doctor?’

  ‘No, no. I’d love a cup of tea though.’

  ‘I’ll make it. Will you be okay on your own?’

  ‘Yes, yes. I’m fine now.’

  When he’d gone she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. She’d tried not to think about this — about Elaine’s emergence into real womanhood — her first love affair. Somehow she’d visualised her only as a virginal bride, all in white, floating down the aisle towards some shadowy ideal man who would love, honour and cherish her for ever without laying so much as a finger on her. As in her own case all those years ago, she was incapable of equating love with what she considered vile, dirty and corrupt.

  It was only as the shock began to subside that she became aware of Elaine’s deceitfulness. Anger flared up hotly inside her, to be replaced almost at once by pain and guilt. Was it her fault? Had she been such a bad mother that her child could not confide in her? Had she been too full of business these past months — not seen that Elaine needed her? And even if she had seen, what good would she have been? As Morgan came back into the room she blinked back the tears.

  ‘Here we are. You’ll feel better after this.’ He set the tray down and smiled at her, relieved to see that some of the colour had come back into her cheeks. ‘There’s still half an hour before you open the shop. Try to relax. And don’t worry. Everything will be all right. You’ll see.’

  *

  They had to run for the train. Patrick bundled her on to it just as the guard was blowing his whistle.

  ‘I’ll let you have my address as soon as I can.’ He thrust her weekend case in after her, and handed her the large flat parcel containing his Gino Severini picture.

  Elaine leaned out of the window. ‘I’ll write. You will try to write back, won’t you?’ Her eyes searched his. It was almost over. Oh God, how was she going to bear it?

  ‘I’ll try — but you know what I’m like with letters.’

  The train began to move. ‘Thank you for a lovely weekend — and for the Severini. I’ll cherish it.’ Patrick stepped back and raised his arm.

  ‘Goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ It sounded so final. She wanted to beg him not to forget her — to come back again soon. All weekend she’d prayed for a miracle. How wonderful if he’d changed his mind and didn’t go to France after all. In her favourite fantasy he broke down and confessed that he couldn’t live with
out her — begged her to run away to France with him. But deep in her heart she’d known all along it wouldn’t happen.

  Now he was just a small figure in the distance, getting smaller and smaller as he stood there on the platform with all the other ordinary little people. She had to lean out of the window quite perilously to see him at all. Then the train rounded the bend and she lost sight of him altogether.

  Her heart leaden, she sat down on the seat, unable now to prevent reality from crowding in. She thought of going back to college, of the shop and her mother, of Morgan and the Kingstons and wondered how she would bear going back to the sheer mundaneness of everyday life again. It was all too dreary for words. It seemed to her that everything she had lived for these past months was gone. Patrick would forget her. Deep down she knew that. This morning, after they had made love for the last time, he had almost said as much. Leaning on one elbow to look down at her he had said: ‘No regrets?’

  She turned her head from side to side on the pillow. ‘No regrets. I love you, Patrick. How could I regret anything?’

  ‘Shhh.’ He kissed her gently. ‘Darling, you don’t really love me, you know. You’re very young. There’ll be dozens of others before you find the one you can really say that to.’

  She stared up at him, tears stinging her eyes. ‘What are you saying, Patrick?’

  ‘Just that I’m setting you free. It’s the best parting gift I can give you. We’ve had a wonderful time together. I’ll always think of you lovingly. But that’s all either of us should feel. You mustn’t care too much, love. I don’t want you to be hurt. Understand?’

  She rolled over to bury her face in the pillow so that he wouldn’t see her quick hot tears. How could he imagine she could escape the hurt of loving him? How could he not see that it was already too late to tell her not to care too much?

  ‘I shouldn’t have come this weekend,’ she mumbled into the pillow.

  He turned her over and looked into her eyes. ‘I’ll tell you now. I tried to stop you. I rang Tom. If you hadn’t caught an early train you wouldn’t be here now.’

  ‘Then I’m glad I did.’ She reached up to pull him down to her. ‘I’m so glad I did, Patrick.’