Wives & Mothers

by Jeanne Whitmee

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  Grace shook hands politely with Paul Kingston, then said: ‘I hope you’ll excuse us if we go and pack up now, Mrs Kingston. There’s an awful lot to do and we have to be out of the hall by eleven.’

  ‘Of course, my dear. You mustn’t let us stop you. Is there anything Paul here can do to help you?’

  Grace shook her head, slightly embarrassed. ‘Oh, no — thank you all the same.’

  ‘Perhaps we can give Ellen here a lift to save space in your car?’

  ‘Oh, no. Mum will need my help too,’ Elaine put in quickly. But to her dismay her mother was smiling at her encouragingly.

  ‘How kind. You’ve worked really hard all evening, darling, and you do have college in the morning. No, you run along with Mr Kingston. Morgan and I can probably manage in one trip with only the two of us.’

  The Kingstons’ car was a stately Rover, large, elderly and comfortable. Mrs Kingston insisted Elaine should ride in front with Paul, whilst she sat in the back. ‘Where is it you live, dear?’ she asked Elaine.

  ‘Prince Regent Street. In the flat over the shop.’

  ‘I see. Well, as we live in the opposite direction, Paul had better drop me off first,’ she said decisively. ‘Then you can take your time taking Ellen home, Paul.’

  He flushed dully in the darkness. He was a careful driver. He delivered his mother to the door of a Victorian house near Jesus Green and after he had seen her safely indoors and resumed his seat beside Elaine, she immediately felt a change in him. His mother’s presence obviously oppressed and inhibited him. He turned to look at Elaine, and for the first time he smiled.

  ‘I’m sorry about that. Mother has a way of organising people. You’d probably much rather have stayed on and helped with the clearing up.’

  ‘Oh, no. It’s quite nice to get out of it really,’ Elaine lied. She felt rather sorry for Paul. Unless she was very much mistaken his mother had undermined his confidence so much that he had a pretty low opinion of himself. Why on earth didn’t he get out and find a place of his own? she wondered. Surely a man of his age shouldn’t still be tied to his mother’s apron strings.

  ‘You’ll have to tell me when we get to your place,’ he was saying. ‘I’m not very familiar with this part of town.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’ She glanced at his profile. He was quite nice-looking in a hungry, raddled sort of way. He looked as though he could do with a good meal. ‘I like your car,’ she said chattily. ‘It’s very comfy.’

  ‘She’s getting old now, but Mother would hate to part with her,’ he said. ‘I’d like to trade her in for one of the new 2,000 models.’

  Elaine glanced at him. Why did he have to do everything his mother told him? Why didn’t he get his own car? She was sure she would in his position.

  ‘I’m having driving lessons,’ she told him. ‘I take my test in a few weeks’ time.’

  He glanced at her. ‘Really? Good luck.’

  They drove for a moment in a silence that felt to Elaine like a thread, drawing tighter. To break the tension she said: ‘I expect you enjoy your job.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Assistant Head sounds terribly grand. You must be very clever.’

  He gave a dry little laugh. ‘Not at all. It isn’t a very prestigious school. When the last deputy was promoted to Head they had trouble replacing him.’

  Why did he have to be so brutally honest? ‘Your mother is obviously very proud of you,’ she said. ‘But mothers usually are, aren’t they?’

  For a moment he was silent, then he said: ‘I’m afraid I was a bit of a disappointment to her. Father was an academic, but my brother was the one who took after him, not me. Richard was quite a bit older. He was killed near the end of the war.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Mother never got over it. He had a dazzling career ahead of him. He was working in London at the time. It was a stray flying bomb.’

  Elaine bit her lip, unsure of what to say next. ‘Oh, look...’ She peered out of the window with some relief. ‘This is where we live. You can drop me here.’

  As he opened the car door for her he asked suddenly. ‘Elaine — can I see you again?’

  She paused, startled at the unexpectedness of the question. ‘Oh — I — er -don’t know.’

  ‘Perhaps I could ring you sometime?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you could.’

  ‘Right. Goodnight then, Elaine.’

  ‘Goodnight. And thank you for the lift — Paul.’ She watched as the Rover drove away. What a strange man. Too old for her. Too stuffy too, though he had loosened up a little after his mother left. As for seeing him again... She giggled, wondering what Alison and Tom would make of Paul Kingston. Anyone with less in common with them would be hard to find.

  *

  When Harry got home it was late and he was bone weary. He’d had a long walk from the station and he dreaded telling Stella that he had achieved nothing.

  He let himself into the quiet house. It was dark. There were no lights on at all on the ground floor. His hopes rose. With a bit of luck she would have gone to bed and fallen asleep. He’d get the chance to postpone the confrontation until the morning.

  He hung up his raincoat on the hallstand and tiptoed softly towards the staircase. At the foot he hesitated, then slipped off his shoes. Better leave nothing to chance. Very softly he ascended, relying on the moonlight coming through the landing window to light the way. At the bedroom door he paused to listen. No sound came from within. Turning the handle gently he pushed open the door, but immediately he saw that the bedside lamp was on. His heart sank. She was awake after all.

  Stella lay on top of the bed. She wore a black negligee made of chiffon and lace over a scarlet satin nightdress. It was low-cut and revealing and made her body look voluptuous and full of promise. Her face was carefully made up and her hair was freshly shampooed and brushed till it hung around her shoulders like a shining black curtain. When she saw him her eyes lit up.

  ‘Harry, there you are at last. You’ve been so long. I’ve missed you so much.’

  Her voice held no hint of reproach. He stared at her, hardly able to believe his eyes. ‘Stella, you look wonderful.’ He sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. ‘Are you feeling better, love?’

  She sighed. ‘I took a good look at myself today, Harry. I realised just how much I’ve let myself go since my illness. Poor Harry. Have I given you a very hard time? Darling, you look so tired. I was beginning to get quite worried. Come to bed.’

  He undressed hurriedly and stretched out beside her. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t get very far today, love,’ he said, anxious to get the bad news over with. ‘David Rose isn’t like old Gerry. He didn’t have anything very exciting to offer. Then I had a thought: I got the train and went to Cambridge. I thought I might talk to Grace about a divorce.’ She leaned on one elbow to look into his eyes. ‘You did?’

  ‘Yes, but she was out. I didn’t even get anywhere with that. It’s been a wasted day, love. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No it hasn’t.’ Sitting up she slipped her arms out of the negligee and pulled the scarlet nightdress over her head. Although her body was plumper now, it seemed to Harry that she was more beautiful, more sexy and desirable than ever before. She leaned over him till the brown nipples brushed his chest, hard and tantalising. Taking his face between her hands she kissed him lingeringly, her tongue darted teasingly into his mouth. ‘Because you’re home again,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve come back to me. That’s something I didn’t really deserve. We’re still together, darling. That’s all that really matters.’ She ran one hand down the length of his body and found to her satisfaction that he had hardened for her. ‘Oh, Harry,’ she breathed urgently. ‘Make love to me. I want you so much.’

  His weariness left him as she began to caress him in the old ways that had delighted him in the past. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what could have happened to bring about such a miraculous change in her, but so
on he was too aroused by her eager lips and hands to care. Passion mounted between them in a way he had feared was gone for ever and soon they were making love with a desperate urgency wrought by the past weeks of abstinence. The climax came for both of them at the same moment. It was explosive. Like the birth of a star, Stella told herself ecstatically.

  Much later, as they lay in each other’s arms, sated and still drowsy, she said: ‘I never asked you — what did David offer us?’ Harry held his breath, glancing down at the gloriously tangled black hair spread across his chest. ‘A summer season in a — holiday camp.’

  ‘Oh, where?’

  ‘Skegness.’

  Stella sat up and looked down at him. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘No.’

  For a moment she stared at him, her dark eyes round and expressionless, then she began to laugh: the deep infectious throaty chuckle that Harry hadn’t heard in months, her golden breasts bouncing with the vibration. Soon he was laughing too. Clasping her shoulders he pulled her down on top of him and they rolled over together on the rumpled bed, helpless with mirth.

  ‘ Skegness! The cheeky bastard. Oh, Harry.’ She kissed him hard. ‘I love you so much. What the hell does it matter where we are or where we work, just so long as we’re together and we love each other?’

  Later, just as he was falling asleep, Harry had a sudden thought. ‘By the way,’ he asked sleepily, ‘was there any mail today?’

  Stella sighed and snuggled closer to him. ‘No, love. No letters. Nothing at all.’

  In her mind’s eye she saw the little pile of ashes in the dining-room fireplace. She remembered thinking as she burned the letter, how odd it was that something so fragile, so transitory, could have caused her to make the biggest, the wisest decision of her life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Excitement quickened Elaine’s heartbeat as green fields began to give way to the rows of grimy houses that made up the outskirts of the city. She would see him soon — see him soon — see him soon. The train wheels seemed to repeat it joyously and her body tensed as she sat forward to look out of the window. In less than an hour she and Patrick would be alone together in his flat, for two whole days. She sighed, wishing it could have been for longer. It seemed so long since the New Year when he had left. In her last letter she’d asked him to meet the four-thirty train, but she had managed to get away in time to catch the two o’clock. How surprised he would be when she turned up at the flat early. She closed her eyes and tried to visualise his delighted expression.

  She had so much to tell him. During the last few weeks a lot had happened and she’d been saving it all up. The most exciting thing was that she had passed her driving test. She’d thought at one point that it would have to be postponed. Just two weeks before she was due to take it, Tom’s old car had broken down during one of Alison’s driving lessions. It turned out to have something quite serious wrong with it. So serious and expensive that Tom couldn’t afford to have it done until he’d saved up enough money. Alison had cancelled her test with good-natured resignation, relieved that it hadn’t been her driving that had caused the problem. Elaine had been about to cancel hers when she had run into Paul Kingston one Saturday morning in town.

  He’d telephoned her twice since the fashion show to ask her out but each time she’d made an excuse. But coming face to face with him in W H Smith’s that Saturday she could hardly refuse when he asked her to have coffee with him.

  Over it she’d told him about Tom’s car and how she was going to have to put off her test.

  ‘There’s no need, you can borrow my car,’ he said suddenly. ‘I’ll take you for a couple of practice drives first too, if you like.’

  She stared at him, her eyes round. ‘Oh, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  She’d been about to suggest that his mother might not like the idea and the fact that she’d stopped herself only just in time made her blush. ‘Well, if you’re really sure...’ She so wanted to be able to surprise Patrick with the news that she’d passed. ‘It’s very kind of you, thanks.’

  ‘Not at all.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘No time like the present. We could go for a drive now, if you like? I’ve got an hour to spare.’

  Paul had proved himself a good teacher, cool-headed and calm; encouraging her when she felt unsure and offering good advice. The result had been that two days ago, on the first day of the Easter holidays, she had passed her test with flying colours.

  Paul had been waiting for her at the test centre on her return. He smiled indulgently when she waved the slip triumphantly at him. ‘Congratulations. What did I tell you? I knew you’d do it.’

  Impulsively she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘I couldn’t have done it without your help. Thanks, Paul.’

  He flushed, turning quickly away to the car. ‘Nonsense, the credit’s all yours.’

  Alison pretended to be sick with envy. ‘Jammy pig. I’ll tell Patrick next time I see him that you’ve been going out with another bloke. You might have asked if he’d let your best friend borrow his posh car.’ She pulled a face. ‘Toffee-nosed little cow. It’ll be fourpence to speak to you now. Just you wait till I pass. I’m going to make Dad buy me a Mini and I shan’t let you borrow it. You’ll be jealous of me then.’

  Elaine laughed, all too familiar with the good-natured schoolgirlish banter they still lapsed into. She knew there was no real envy or malice in Alison.

  The other thing that had happened was that Mrs Kingston, Paul’s mother, had offered to sponsor Morgan. After the show he’d been inundated with orders, some of them from London shops. Initially he and Grace had been over the moon, then they began to worry that they wouldn’t be able to meet the demand and might have to pass up some of the precious orders. Mary Kingston’s little ‘business proposition’ had seemed like a stroke of real luck. She had some money to invest, she told them. She was bored with the stock market and wanted something she could take a personal interest in. She offered to put up the money for Morgan to take a lease on a small factory and employ a team of full time knitters. Mary Kingston had ‘joined the team’, as Elaine put it to herself. She wasn’t sure that she liked the idea. There was something about the old woman that gave her the creeps, and since her arrival on the scene Grace had been busier with her business interests than before.

  In a way all this worked in Elaine’s favour. With her mother so preoccupied it hadn’t been too hard to convince her that a weekend trip to London was necessary for her studies. Visiting the British Museum where there was an exhibition of Tudor costumes and embroidery was a must for serious students of needlework, Elaine had assured her. There was an invitation to stay with a friend from college too. They’d been given tickets for a show on the Saturday evening, so she’d stay up in London till Sunday evening.

  It had been ridiculously easy. So easy that Elaine had been stricken with guilt. She’d never lied seriously to her mother before. She wouldn’t have now if it hadn’t been so desperately important to her.

  The train slowed as it began the long pull into King’s Cross Station and Elaine stood up to pull her weekend case down from the rack. Patrick wouldn’t be there to meet her and she regretted that. She’d looked forward to catching the first glimpse of him standing at the barrier — of running into his outstretched arms. Still, it would be fun to surprise him, and it wouldn’t take long to get to the flat. She’d looked up the Underground map and knew where to change and everything.

  When the train drew into the station and came to a halt she was waiting impatiently by the door, unable to keep the smile of anticipation off her face.

  *

  Tom had been on his way through the hall, about to go out, when the telephone rang. He was enjoying what was left of his freedom. There would be precious little of it these holidays. On Monday morning he was to begin working in his father’s shop to help earn the money to pay for his car repairs. The telephone rang just as he was passing it. Reaching out one long arm he picked up the r
eceiver and assumed a high, falsetto voice.

  ‘Mill House home for the terminally bewildered. To whom would you speak?’

  ‘Shut up, idiot, it’s me. Listen, I’ve only got a minute.’

  ‘Patrick?’

  ‘Yes. Look, I’ve got a problem. You probably don’t know this, but Elaine was supposed to be coming up today for the weekend.’

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised. I always knew you were a vile seducer of innocent virgins.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, stop being flippant and listen.’

  ‘Okay. Go on.’

  ‘I want you to go round there and stop her from coming. She’s supposed to be catching the four-thirty, so there’s still plenty of time.’

  Tom frowned. ‘Hang on, she’s going to be pretty disappointed, isn’t she? I hope you’ve got a bloody good reason.’

  ‘Of course I have. Look, Ann-Marie, the French girl I told you about who was here last term, has suddenly turned up.’

  ‘And I’m to tell Ellie that, am I?’

  ‘Of course not. Tell her I’ve been asked to go on a weekend school — anything you like.’

  Tom winced. ‘It’s a bit rough, isn’t it? Can’t you get rid of this French bird? You said you were fed up with the way she threw herself at you last term.’

  ‘Look, just do as I say and put Elaine off, will you?’ Patrick sounded impatient. ‘If you must know, I want to stay on the right side of Ann-Marie. She’s got a flat in Paris and if I play my cards right she’ll let me move in with her. Think of the cash I’ll save.’

  ‘If you ask me, I think you’re being a bit of a shit.’

  ‘Nobody did ask you. Anyway, since when have you been an upholder of morals? Look, are you going to do it, or aren’t you? Someone else is waiting to use this phone.’

  Tom toyed with the idea of telling Patrick to do his own dirty work, then he thought better of it. ‘All right, all right. I’ll go round there now.’ If she was going to be hurt it might as well be his shoulder she cried on, he told himself.

  ‘Good.’ Patrick hung up abruptly without thanking him.