The Seduction of Mrs Pendlebury
Page 33
Rose felt as if she had been very, very ill, as though she had been through the valley of the shadow of death. The only way she knew she was better was when she realized she had been ill – like waking and finding the light was coming through the window and it was day, so there must have been a night. She was dreadfully tired and weak, but one morning in September she got out of bed and breathed a great sigh of contentment.
She didn’t know what she was going to do. Like Peter, she had denied that girl next door three times. What she had done to her this last time she was not yet ready to think about – small steps first. A weight had been lifted off her but movement was slow to come. Stanley, of course, knew at once what had happened. His face relaxed for the first time in months but he made no reference to her recovery. Sometimes he asked her questions about matters that were a complete mystery to her and they both knew then the extent of the disease that had attacked her, and were overawed in retrospect.
One day in late September Stanley said he would like to take her to the seaside before the days started to get short. He had been on two trips lately himself, with Elsie and George, in the car. They had asked her to go but she had refused, politely, not yet feeling strong enough, still wallowing in the sweet melancholy that had replaced the sharp, painful anger of the spring and summer. But that day she felt better, and she said yes. They went by train, of course. Stanley called it a mystery tour and wouldn’t tell her their destination – which added to the novelty. When they arrived she saw they had come to Eastbourne and was amused at Stanley’s originality. They had never been to Eastbourne.
She liked the town very much and enjoyed walking about the centre. The air was lovely and she breathed it easily. After lunch, Stanley said they’d take a ride to the outskirts and, though amazed at his daring, she was happy to agree. They came to a pleasant estate about a mile outside the town, bungalows and suchlike set in pretty gardens with views over the sea. They got out of the taxi and paid it off and walked around a bit and then Stanley stopped at an ordinary enough bungalow. It had a bit of garden in front, with hydrangeas in it, and a bit more to each side, just grass. Behind, there were some big trees and a road and more bungalows.
‘Nice place, isn’t it?’ Stanley said, standing at the gate.
‘It’s all right,’ Rose said, ‘easy to run. A little like Elsie and George’s place.’
The minute she said it, she had that strange feeling that sometimes afflicted her of knowing with absolute certainty what was going to be said next.
‘Yes,’ Stanley said, ‘I suppose so, but it’s a lovely situation, lovely views. You can see the sea from the front rooms.’
Rose didn’t bother asking him how he knew.
‘Quite a way from shops,’ she said. It was important for Stanley’s sake that she should be truthful.
‘There’s a bus every ten minutes straight to that town centre you liked.’
‘Nice and quiet, a bit lonely.’
‘Plenty of houses about, just nicely spaced that’s all.’
‘It’s high, steep.’
‘Good air up here, no dirt.’
‘Anyway, what of it?’
He pushed the gate open. ‘I’ve bought it,’ he said, ‘for our retirement, took a chance and bought it on spec. What do you think?’
‘I never thought you had it in you,’ she said, because that was what would please him most.
They moved in October without a word to anyone. They both took a great delight in hoodwinking the street, Rose entering into the spirit of the thing as much as Stanley. Because Elsie and George knew someone in the business, the removal van was quite prepared to come in the evening when it was dark, and the whole operation went without a hitch. Hardly anybody saw them go. No stares, no comments – they just slipped away almost unobserved. Except by Alice.
As she pulled the door to behind her, Rose knew she was being watched. It couldn’t be helped, she hadn’t expected to quite get away with it in that quarter. At least it was dark and the girl couldn’t see her face, thank God. She was entitled to think they were running away out of shame – that was part of her cross. She knew she ought to go and see Alice and say sorry – she didn’t know for what – and goodbye, but she couldn’t do it. The cruelty of leaving was like cutting a tumour out of herself. All her life, she would live with the loss of the only person ever to like her better than she liked herself, the only person willing and able to make her see her fellow humans as friendly and giving. The girl, Alice, had been a blessing, but she was not a saint. It was only natural that she never wanted to see her again. She had hoped, given time, that they might at least salute each other and smile, and who knew what would have grown from that? But Stanley had cut time off and it was just as well There would be no reprieve. The justice of it pleased her – she pleaded guilty and there was no reprieve.
As she got into Elsie and George’s car, a sound stopped her – the sound of a very young baby crying. Rose looked up and saw the curtain move at the first-floor window and Alice in a dressing-gown appear in front of it holding a bundle. The room behind her was brilliantly lit. She knew, from long practice, how little the person standing there could see. Hesitantly, she raised a hand to her lips and blew a kiss to the child she had not even realized existed. For a moment she waited, but there was no answering salutation. Humbly, she got in the car. It was no more than she deserved.
‘I’m sure,’ Alice said, turning away from the window with her ten-day-old son, ‘I’m sure I saw Mrs Pendlebury getting into a car. Do you think the baby will make any difference? Do you know what I’m going to do? Tomorrow I’m going to go round and knock on the door and act as though nothing had happened and show him to her. That’s what I’m going to do.’
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Epub ISBN: 9781446443675
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Published by Vintage 2004
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Copyright © The Royal National Institute for the Blind, 1974
Margaret Forster has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
First published in Great Britain in 1974 by
Secker & Warburg
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ISBN 9780099455592