‘Stop it!’ Grace had her hands over her ears. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about her and her disgusting needs. Go to her if that’s what you want. If all you really want from life is someone to — to copulate with.’ She choked on the last word, blinking back the tears.
Flinching, Harry stood up and looked down at her. ‘You’re the one who’s digusting if you really want to know, Grace.’ he said quietly. ‘Not me — not Stella. It’s you. You’re warped. To you a relationship between a man and a woman is something dirty. You don’t understand the meaning of the word love. I feel sorry for you.’
‘I don’t want your pity,’ she snapped. ‘Just get your things and go.’
At the door he turned. ‘I want to talk to Elaine. I think you owe me that. I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon.’
‘No!’ She was on her feet instantly. ‘I won’t have you telling her a lot of lies to make yourself look good. If you go, you’ll never come back here again. You walk out on me and you walk out on her too. I’ll make sure she knows the truth about her precious father.’
‘Grace, don’t be vindictive. None of this is Elaine’s fault. Don’t take it out on her.’
She shook her head. ‘She’ll have to learn as I have that life has a nasty habit of kicking you in the face. She might as well start learning now.’
He withdrew quietly. He would come back tomorrow anyway. Grace would have to let him in. There were things they must discuss. She would see that when she calmed down. This wasn’t the time to argue about access.
When he had gone Grace stared at the closed door. Her face crumpled as the tightness in her chest sharpened painfully. Dry, silent sobs racked her as she sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands. The old hated images of her father rose to mock her. She felt his soft hands again and heard his voice coaxing and wheedling. Hate filled her throat and chest like poisonous gas, choking and suffocating her. If her father had been in the room with her at that moment she would have killed him with her bare hands.
Elaine sat huddled on the top stair, her nightdress pulled over her knees. As Harry came up the stairs, she held out her arms to him.
‘Don’t go, Daddy. Please.’
He drew her into his arms and carried her into her room. Setting her down on the bed he sat beside her. ‘I have to go, Elaine,’ he said softly. ‘But you’ll always be my girl. We won’t lose touch.’
She threw her arms tightly round his waist and buried her face against his chest. ‘You can’t go. I missed you so much while you were away. When will you come back again?’
Looking down at the tearstained little face, he wondered guiltily just how much she had heard. Stroking the springy curls he said: ‘I may not be back, my love. Not to stay, anyway. Sometimes people find they can’t live together. Your mummy and I don’t make each other happy any more and — I’ve found someone else I want to be with.’
‘But what about me?’ She was sobbing now. ‘Don’t I make you happy? Don’t you want to be with me any more? Did I do something wrong? Is it my fault?’
Harry swallowed the choking lump in his throat and held her tightly to him. ‘Sweetheart, if I could take you with me, I would. But your place is here, at home with Mummy.’ For a moment he let her cry against him, anger at his own inadequacy wrenching his heart. How did one explain to a child of this age? One day perhaps she would understand. But she was hurting now. He was hurting her and it tore him apart. Putting her gently from him, he took a card from his wallet. ‘Here, put this away safely somewhere. It’s Mr Sylvester’s address. If ever you want me, he’ll know where to find me.’
He held both her hands and kissed her damp face. ‘Be a good girl for me, sweetheart. Mummy will need you. She loves you very much, you know.’
‘But I love you, Daddy.’
‘I know, pet, and I love you too. I’ll see you again, I promise.’ He lifted her legs and slid them under the bedclothes, tucking her in warmly, bending to kiss her one last time.
Elaine lay with Gerry Sylvester’s card clutched tightly in her hand, listening helplessly as her father moved about in the next room. She heard him opening drawers and cupboards; imagined him throwing his clothes back into the suitcase he had only recently unpacked. She wanted to jump out of bed and run to him again, beg him to stay. But some newly adult instinct in her told her it was already too late. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she heard his footsteps going down the stairs. She heard the front door open and close quietly behind him, and she knew that he had gone. Gone out into the night — the Christmas night. And she knew then that Christmas would never come again without her remembering the night her father went away and left her.
Chapter Five
‘How old are you, Grace?’
Margaret faced her employee across the table in the back room of ‘Margot’s’. It was the Monday after Christmas. The shop was quiet and they were taking a coffee break before starting to price up the last of the winter stock for the coming sale.
Grace stared gloomily into her cup. ‘Thirty. I was thirty last month.’
‘That’s no age. You’re still young,’ Margaret said encouragingly. ‘I can give you twelve years, you know. Don’t worry, dear. Harry will be back once he comes to his senses.’
‘He won’t.’ Grace looked up, her eyes suddenly glittering with anger. ‘Not this time.’
‘You mean he’s left you before?’ Margaret couldn’t quite disguise the interest in her voice and Grace immediately regretted the hasty indiscretion.
‘Well, no. That time I asked him to leave.’ She paused, sensing that Margaret was waiting for her to explain further. ‘I discovered that he was — seeing someone else, you see.’
‘Ah, so this isn’t the first time he’s kicked over the traces.’ There was a pause and Margaret reached across the table to touch Grace’s hand sympathetically. ‘If it helps — and I know it probably won’t — it’s what happened to me too. In my case it was the girl from the cash desk in the grocer’s where he worked. I wouldn’t have minded so much but she was really plain, with glasses and spots.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘So what are you going to do?’
Grace bit her trembling lip. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t even thought about it yet.’
‘Elaine must be upset?’
Grace nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Elaine had been terrible since Harry left. For the past three days she’d been impossible to cope with, spending most of the time in her room, appearing only when she was called for meals, when she sat silent and morose at the table, avoiding her mother’s eyes. But last night, when Grace had finally lost her patience and tackled her, she had flared up, making it clear that she blamed her mother for Harry’s leaving. When Grace told her about Stella, Elaine had accused her of lying. She had retreated to her room again in a torrent of tears, slamming the door and refusing to come out.
‘She blames me,’ she said dully. ‘I’m at my wits’ end, Margaret. I just don’t know what to do with her.’
‘She’s at a funny age, but she’ll come round. Have you sorted out the money side of things?’ asked Margaret practically. ‘You’ll need help and you’re entitled to it.’
‘I don’t want to take anything from him,’ Grace told her. She didn’t mention the fact that Harry had come to the house on Boxing Day and that she had refused to answer the door to him.
‘That’s just plain silly.’
‘There was a letter from some solicitor’s office this morning. I’m supposed to meet him there, to get something worked out.’
‘Well, that’s a start, at least.’
Grace shuddered, remembering the chill she had felt when the letter had arrived that morning. Her heart had almost stopped when she’d opened the typed envelope and read the formally worded request. Engaging the services of a solicitor seemed so cold and impersonal, so final somehow. ‘I’ve made up my mind though,’ she said, tight-lipped. ‘I’m not going to give him a divorce whatever happens.’
Margaret sighed. �
��I’ve heard that before. I suppose it’s a natural reaction under the circumstances. You’ll change your mind, of course. You’re hurt now, but you’ll get over it. You’re still young and attractive, Grace. You’ll meet someone else and then
‘No. Never.’ Grace’s tone was so vehement, so positive, that Margaret’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
‘They’re not all the same, you know, dear,’ she said gently. ‘There are lots of nice men around who’d...’
‘No. I’m finished with them — all of them.’ Grace got up from the table, making it clear that the conversation was at an end. Her hands shook, rattling the coffee cups as she gathered them together. ‘We’d best make a start, hadn’t we, if we’re to open the sale on Friday?’
*
The appointment at the solicitor’s office was arranged for the following Thursday, which was Grace’s half day. As there was no school she’d arranged for Elaine to go to Jenny’s for the afternoon. Getting ready, she took a lot of trouble over her clothes and make-up. She wasn’t going to let him think she’d gone to pieces just because of what he’d done to her.
She and Harry arrived more or less together and to Grace’s surprise he looked smart, neatly dressed and well groomed. She wondered vaguely if Stella had washed and ironed the snowy shirt he wore, and pressed the pristine, knife-edged creases in his trousers, but decided that he must have used a valet service. A woman like that wouldn’t know what an iron was for.
Mr Graves, the solicitor, was a tall, spare man with a balding head and a slight stoop. They sat uneasily on either side of his desk and listened to his proposals for a separation settlement. It seemed fair and Grace knew she must swallow her pride as Margaret had advised. She couldn’t afford the independence she craved for, but as she sat there listening to the elderly man droning on she promised herself that she would have it one day, if she had to work her fingers to the bone for it. She tried hard to concentrate while the solicitor explained how they both stood with regard to the law, but as he came to the part about filing for divorce she raised her head and said firmly:
‘There will be no divorce.’
Both men looked up at her, their expressions startled. The solicitor cleared his throat and shuffled his papers. Frowning, Harry said: ‘We can talk about that later.’
‘There’s no point.’ She looked him in the eye for the first time. ‘I’m never going to release you to marry that woman, Harry. You can be sure of that.’
‘No — well...’ Harry took a deep breath. ‘Grace, about Elaine? I want to see her.’
She looked down at her gloved hands. ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
Again the solicitor cleared his throat. ‘Er — ahem. Mrs Wendover, I must remind you that your husband does have the right to see his daughter.’
‘I know.’ She looked at Harry again. ‘Elaine has been very upset since you left. I’m hoping to get her to come to terms with it eventually. It would unsettle her dreadfully if you were to keep seeing her. I know I can’t stop you and I’m not trying to. I’m just asking you not to — for her sake.’
‘I’ll be going to America in a month’s time,’ Harry said quietly. ‘For an indefinite period. If I could just see her to say goodbye?’
Grace swallowed hard. She’d expected a fight and it came as a shock to have Harry giving in so easily over Elaine; it was even more of a shock to learn that he was leaving the country again so soon, and for so long. ‘Oh, well, in that case, I suppose so,’ she whispered.
Mr Graves advised Grace that it would benefit all concerned if she were to sell the house, but it was agreed that Harry would continue to pay the mortgage until such time as she decided what to do. He would also pay her a maintenance allowance for herself and Elaine. Something she accepted reluctantly.
When she got home she sat down with paper and pencil and did some sums. It was clear that Mr Graves had been right. She would not be able to afford to continue living at St Olaf’s Avenue. Money had been on the tight side when Harry was at home, but now, with all the overheads to pay, plus food and keeping up with Elaine’s alarming rate of growth, she didn’t see how she could manage it all on what she would have coming in. Tears of anger and frustration trickled down her cheeks. She remembered the lonely, dismal little room in Bow with its hissing gas fire; how ill and unhappy she had felt and the humiliation of having to find Harry and almost beg to be taken back. Well, it wouldn’t happen again this time, she told herself determinedly. This time she would never let him see what he had done to her — never ask — never allow him to come back.
She got up and walked round the house from room to room, wondering if there was any way at all that she could stay in the beloved home she had worked so hard for, but at last she had to face the fact that it simply wasn’t a practical possibility. If she was to maintain for Elaine the kind of standards she deserved, then she would have to sell the house and find a small flat somewhere. The more she thought about it, the more she knew it was best. Mr Graves had agreed to make all the necessary arrangements should she come to this decision. She would telephone him tomorrow from the shop and put things in motion. But first she must talk to Elaine. If they were to live together on their own they must each come to terms with their change in fortune. They could not go on as they were. Nothing was surer than that.
*
‘But why do we have to leave here? Why doesn’t Daddy want to live with us any more?’
Grace sighed. She had tried to explain to Elaine in language she would understand that grown up people weren’t infallible, that they made mistakes, behaved in ways one didn’t expect, but it seemed she hadn’t succeeded in getting through to her.
‘Elaine, I’ve told you; Daddy loves someone else. He doesn’t want to be with me any more.’ She eyed her daughter’s closed face. ‘And I can’t make him stay with me when he doesn’t love me. We couldn’t be happy like that now, could we? He still loves you very much, though,’ she added patiently. ‘He’s going abroad again soon and he wants to see you to say goodbye before he goes.’
‘But if he still loves me, why do I have to be left behind — why can’t I go with him?’ Elaine’s face was red and her eyes were bright with tears. Grace felt a stab of pain that she should prefer to go with her father, but, looking at the child’s stricken face, she felt pity for her too. Her anger at Harry deepened.
‘Daddy can’t take you abroad with him. You have to stay here and go to school.’
‘She wouldn’t want me, you mean — that Stella. I’d be in the way.’ Elaine poked angrily at the carpet with the toe of her shoe until Grace, her nerves raw, wanted to scream at her to stop.
‘I suppose he’ll marry her?’ Elaine looked up. ‘Will they have children of their own?’
The question startled Grace. It reminded her that Elaine was growing up fast. ‘No, they won’t,’ she said firmly. ‘Daddy and I definitely aren’t getting divorced.’
The child looked relieved. ‘When is he going away? When will I see him?’
‘I don’t know — soon. He’ll let you know.’ Grace reached out to touch Elaine’s cheek. ‘Elaine, listen darling, I’ll always love you, you know that, don’t you? It’s just us now — you and me. We’re on our own. We’re going to have to make a new start. We must try to look after each other. It’s been hard for me too. I...’ She swallowed hard. She didn’t want Elaine to see her cry. ‘I miss Daddy too, you know.’
For a moment Elaine watched her mother struggling to hold back the tears, surprise and pity softening her expression, then she stood up and went to her, putting her arms around Grace and laying her head on her shoulder. ‘Why doesn’t he love us any more, Mummy?’ she asked miserably. ‘Why doesn’t he want us? How can he love her more?’
Grace hugged her daughter’s slender body close and swallowed the lump in her throat. It’s me, a voice inside her head cried out. Not you — me. I’m abnormal. I’m — what was the word Harry had used? — warped. I see normal things as disgusting. I’m not fit to be anyon
e’s wife. In a quiet, flat voice she said: ‘I don’t know, darling. Maybe when you see him, Daddy will be able to make you understand.’
*
It wasn’t a successful outing. Grace put Elaine on to the train at Stanmore and Harry met her at Baker Street. It was quite a mild day for late January and for want of somewhere better to go, he took her to the zoo.
‘How have you been?’
‘All right, thank you.’
‘What would you like to see first?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. The monkeys?’
They walked along the almost deserted pathways, side by side. Harry didn’t know whether to take her hand or not. It was only four weeks since he left and yet it might have been four years. She seemed so changed, so aloof; suddenly so grown-up and controlled. Had he done that to her?
‘Has term started again yet?’
‘Last Monday.’
‘Good to be back, eh?’
‘No, not really.’
‘But you still like it at the Grammar School, don’t you?’
‘It’s all right.’
He was getting nowhere. They stood watching the monkeys for a while, he with his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched; Elaine with a strange blank expression in her eyes that he’d never seen before. At last he said: ‘Look, would you rather go to the pictures? Tiger Bay’s on in Leicester Square.’
She turned to look up at him. ‘We can’t talk in the pictures.’ ‘No, ’course not.’ At least she wanted to talk. ‘Tea then?’
‘All right.’
They found a quiet little cafe and Harry ordered tea and cakes. They sat in the steamy warmth, their knees touching under the small table, and he looked helplessly at the daughter he’d once been so close to. He wanted to reach for her hand but he stopped himself, better to keep things on an unemotional level. ‘Elaine, has your mother talked to you? Has she told you that I’m going to America?’
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