Grace smiled fondly at the mention of her granddaughter. ‘Isn’t it strange, the way she’s inherited your father’s talent for music?’ Elaine looked wistful. ‘Yes. You know, I’ve never said so before but I’ve always regretted giving up my own music. That’s why I encouraged Tricia as soon as she showed an interest in it.’
‘I still think the violin is an unusual instrument for a little girl to choose. Easy to transport though.’ Grace smiled reminiscently. ‘I always remember your father saying he wished he could carry his own instrument around with him. Pianists have to make do with whatever is provided.’
Later, as Elaine drove to the school, she thought about what her mother had said. It was odd how much she spoke lately about her ex-husband. It seemed that Tricia’s interest in music had refreshed her memories of him — softened the bitterness of their parting and revived only the good times. Or maybe it was that she had more time to reminisce now that she had given up the shop.
Four years ago Morgan had received an offer from a group of London designers. He had moved to the city to work at their London studios, where he had quickly risen to become a well-known and respected name in the fashion world. He now had a smart flat in Mayfair and a villa in Majorca, but he still returned to spend occasional weekends with Grace.
As his move had coincided with the expiry of her lease she had given up the shop and taken on the running of his Cambridge factory where Morgan Knitwear were still produced, buying a small house on the outskirts of the town and settling down to partial retirement.
It was almost eight years now since Elaines’s marriage to Paul. To the casual observer it was an ideal match. They were a good-looking couple; they attended all the school functions at St Jasper’s, and seemed, outwardly at least to be devoted to one another. In actual fact it was not a marriage at all. Since soon after Tricia’s birth they had occupied separate bedrooms — at Paul’s request. He said that he was unable to sleep in a shared room and suffered severe headaches as a consequence. Elaine hadn’t complained. Their sex life had been practically non-existent from the beginning. She threw all her emotional energy into caring for her small daughter. It was enough. For her, physical love and passion had ceased to exist when Patrick had walked out of her life. She had long since acknowledged the fact that there could never be any other man for her.
For the past four years, since Mary Kingston’s cousin Edna had died, Paul, Elaine and Tricia had lived at Langmere Lodge. Left on her own, Mary Kingston had found the place too large for her and moved into a small flat, closer to the centre of town. Although Elaine had been glad to leave the pokey little house in Fenchester, she hated the rambling Victorian mansion — especially as Mary insisted that they changed nothing, keeping the rooms furnished exactly as they were and refusing to allow any redecoration. The house was still in her name and she refused to allow Paul to buy it from her. Elaine’s one consolation was the garden, which she loved and had made into a relaxing hobby. When Mary’s old gardener had finally retired she had taken it over herself. Working in the early days until she thought her back would break, she had re-designed the layout, planted, seeded and mowed. Now her labours were rewarded with velvet green lawns, and borders ablaze with colour.
At seven, Tricia had grown into a beautiful, independent child. She was tall for her age and could charm the hardest heart with her engaging smile and bright blue eyes. She had shown an aptitude for music before the age of five and now, after two years of study her teacher was already encouraging her to play in public. At first Elaine had been afraid that the child might become precocious but although she was spirited, with a strong individual character, Tricia had shown no sign of conceit, being too engrossed in her music to notice any flattery or admiration she might receive.
*
Elaine arrived at the school gates with a few minutes to spare. She had bought a local paper and now, as she waited, she took it out of the glove compartment and opened it. On page two a small headline near the bottom of the page caught her eye: Sudden Death Of Bank Manager. Reading on she saw that the deceased was George Linton, Alison’s father. She made a mental note to send a card to Mrs. Linton and to attend the funeral if she could.
To her regret she had lost touch with Alison, who had stayed on in America after her initial term of employment had ended. As far as Elaine knew, she had been there ever since. After leaving the Railtons, for whom she had gone to work, she had moved to San Francisco. She had written to Elaine once or twice from a commune she had joined and once she had sent a photograph of herself in a long ethnic-style dress, beads around her neck and flowers in her hair, which now fell to below her waist. In the photograph she wore ugly wire-rimmed spectacles and Elaine hardly recognised her. In her letters she’d mentioned a man called Luke, who it seemed had asked her to marry him. But whether the marriage actually took place Elaine never found out. Soon after the letter with the photograph had arrived the correspondence had ceased abruptly, and although she had written several times, Elaine had heard nothing more since. Reading the report of George Linton’s death, she wondered if Alison knew, or if she had lost touch with her family too.
‘Mummy — Mummy. Wake up. I’ve got to be at Miss Hazel’s at a quarter past four.’ Tricia was climbing into the passenger seat beside her, clutching her violin case. Her cheeks were pink from the fresh March wind and her long flaxen hair was escaping in cobwebby strands from its pony-tail.
‘Here, let me tidy your hair first,’ Elaine took a comb out of her bag. ‘Can’t have you turning up for your music lesson looking like a ragamuffin.’
Tricia submitted to the combing and re-tying of ribbons, fidgeting impatiently. ‘Oh, hurry up, Mummy. I want Miss Hazel to hear my new piece. I can play it without making one mistake now.’
Elaine dropped her daughter off a Miss Hazel’s house, then drove to the block of flats where her mother-in-law lived. As she parked the car in the car park at the rear her heart was filled with apprehension. Mary had called her early that morning, soon after Tricia and Paul had left.
‘Elaine, can you come round this afternoon? There’s something I want to talk to you about.’
‘I’m afraid I’m rather tied up this afternoon, Mother.’
There was an irritated intake of breath at the other end of the line and Mary said: ‘I’m sure there’s nothing you can’t rearrange, Elaine. What I have to say is rather important. What is it you’re doing?’
‘I promised to go shopping and have tea with my mother.’
‘Well, come after that if you must go, though I’d have thought you could have seen your mother any time.’
‘I have to pick Tricia up from school and take her to her music lesson.’
‘Well then, come while she’s having it. I know it won’t give you long but I suppose it’ll have to do. You can’t possibly put your mother off, of course.’
The implication was clear and Elaine clenched her teeth. ‘No, I can’t. She has to come into town today to go to the factory.’
‘I’ll see you around four then.’ Mary rang off abruptly, making it clear that she wasn’t best pleased with the arrangement. Now, on her way up in the lift, Elaine wondered what it was her mother-in-law had to say to her.
Mary had aged considerably since Edna’s sudden death four years previously. Although she still took care of herself and paid attention to her appearance, she seemed to have diminished in size since she’d been living alone. The pink and white complexion was wrinkled and papery and the blue-rinsed hair, cut and set meticulously each week, looked sparse and dry.
‘I’ve got tea ready,’ she said as she opened the door. ‘You’ll only have about half an hour, I suppose.’
‘That’s right.’ Elaine sighed. She’d already told her mother-in-law that she was having tea with her mother, but she knew from experience that Mary would be deeply offended if she didn’t eat anything. She followed her through to the living room and slipped off her jacket. ‘I hope you’re well, Mother.’
Ma
ry looked at her sharply. ‘No, I’m not. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’ She eased herself into her chair and began to pour tea into bone china cups. ‘I’ve been having these dizzy spells lately and the doctor says I shouldn’t be living here all alone on the fourth floor. One of these days I’m going to have a bad fall.’
Elaine refused the cucumber sandwiches and shortbread. Mary looked disapproving.
‘I suppose you’re dieting.’ She sniffed and looked her daughter-in-law up and down. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you like, but I’ve never yet met a man who liked a skinny woman.’ She helped herself to a sandwich and began to eat. ‘I suppose you’re going to refuse a cup of tea as well?’
‘Of course not, Mother.’ Reluctantly, Elaine took the tea and sipped it thoughtfully. She had a terrible premonition about what was coming next but nevertheless felt obliged to ask: ‘What was it you were saying?’
‘Just that I think the time has come for me to move again.’
‘I see. Where to?’
Mary bridled. ‘Where to? Why, back to my own house, of course.’
‘You mean, you’re asking to move in with us?’
‘Not asking — telling.’ Mary put down her cup with a clatter. ‘After all, it is my house and you’ve lived in it rent free for four years.’
Elaine bit back the retort that was bursting to be made. ‘Does Paul know about your decision?’ The prospect of having Mary to live with them — of being at her beck and call all day long — was daunting to say the least.
‘Of course he knows. I spoke to him about it last week.’ Mary helped herself to a piece of shortbread and munched determinedly.
‘Then why didn’t he discuss it with me?’ Elaine said, half to herself.
‘Perhaps because there really isn’t anything to discuss. After all, I am his mother,’ Mary said, her eyes glinting. ‘He knows his father would have expected him to care for me in my declining years. Paul may have his shortcomings but at least he’s never shirked his duty.’
Elaine looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Oh dear. Is that clock right?’
Mary gave an exasperated little cough. ‘Naturally it’s right. I can’t think why it is, Elaine, but you always seem to have one eye on the clock when you come to see me.’
‘I did tell you, Mother. I have to collect Tricia.’
Mary grunted. ‘Huh. If you ask me that child is spoiled. She’ll grow up to be a conceited little baggage, you mark my words. Too big for her own boots.’
‘She’s musically talented. She takes after my father,’ Elaine said stiffly.
‘Oh?’ Mary sniffed. ‘Well, we’ll have to take your word for that, won’t we — seeing that we’ve never had the pleasure of meeting the man?’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll wait to hear from you then.’ As she opened the door she delivered the trump card: ‘Oh, by the way, I’ve already given my notice in here. The flat is re-let from the end of the month. So perhaps you’ll be kind enough to let me know when it’s convenient for me to move in.’
*
That evening Elaine had two things to talk to Paul about. She waited until Tricia was asleep and took a cup of coffee to his study where he had been working since dinner. Sitting down in the chair by the window, she began diplomatically with the good news.
‘Miss Hazel feels that Tricia should try for a musical scholarship at St Jasper’s at the end of this year, Paul. What do you think?’
He looked up from his desk. ‘But I’m the headmaster. She can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘It wouldn’t look right. It would smack of nepotism.’
‘Don’t be absurd, Paul. You don’t judge the music scholarships.’
‘Nevertheless, I don’t feel it would look right.’
‘But she’s talented.’
‘If she’s talented she won’t need St Jasper’s help to get on, will she?’ He lowered his head, returning to his work as though the subject were closed.
Elaine seethed. ‘The only alternative is a boarding school and I hate the idea of that.’
‘I can’t see why. I went to one and it didn’t harm me.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ Elaine muttered under her breath. Paul had never taken much interest in Tricia. As a baby he had made no secret of the fact that he found her messy and disruptive, and since she had grown older he seemed at a loss in her company; unsure of what to say or how to treat her. It was almost as though she belonged to some strange unfamiliar species from another planet. Swallowing her annoyance at his arbitrary dismissal, Elaine went on: ‘Paul, there’s something else — quite unrelated.’
A frown of annoyance at the further interruption to his work wrinkled Paul’s brow and he sighed as he looked up. ‘Oh dear, is there? What is it now?’
‘Your mother asked me to go over there this afternoon. She says she intends to come back here to live. She tells me she mentioned it to you a week ago.’
‘That’s right.’
‘And you didn’t think to pass the news on to me?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t see that it need affect you.’
She sprang angrily to her feet. ‘Not affect me Paul? — you know she and I don’t see eye to eye. She was utterly impossible last time we shared the house and I’m sure she hasn’t mellowed with age. She’s already rubbing it in that she’s let us live here rent free and that it’s her house.’
‘Mother’s a little eccentric. You know she means well.’
‘I know nothing of the kind! She was making remarks about Tricia being spoilt too. It’ll be terrible having her here, Paul. Can’t we find somewhere of our own?’
He laid down his pen with a sigh and looked at her. ‘That would defeat the object surely? You know as well as I do that what Mother needs is company. She misses Edna. She’s lonely. She just needs her family around her.’
‘She just needs someone to dance attendance on her night and day, you mean.’
‘Suppose we just give it a try?’ he said cajolingly.
‘Why do you always fall in with everything she wants?’ Elaine demanded exasperatedly. ‘She does nothing but criticise you and compare you unfavorably with your brother.’
‘Mother has had a very hard life. We should make allowances. We’ll give it six months, eh?’ He took off his glasses and looked at her. ‘I’m sure she’s really very fond of you, Elaine.’
‘Oh, Paul, do we really have to?’ She sat down again and suddenly there were tears behind her eyelids. Most of the time she could live with the monotony of her life, the lack of physical love and the absence of excitement. But the prospect of having her mother-in-law to live with them at Langmere Lodge, constantly complaining and reminding them that it was her house, was enough to tip the delicate balance of her emotional state.
He got up and came round to perch on the front of his desk. ‘Look, Elaine. You often say you’re bored and that you’d like to take some kind of job. This could be your chance.’
‘Let your mother keep house for us?’ She laughed. ‘Can you see her agreeing to that? Somehow I don’t think it’s quite what she has in mind.’
‘You never know until you ask,’ he said, adding unrealistically: ‘She might even jump at the idea.’
‘What kind of work could I get anyway?’she asked despairingly. ‘I’ve never had a job — except working with my mother in the shop.’
‘There’s always voluntary work,’ Paul suggested tentatively.
‘Pushing a trolleyful of chocolate bars round the hospital? No, I’d rather have a proper job — something in fashion perhaps, as 1 did before.’
‘Well, find another job like that,’ he suggested. The actual idea of his wife working in a dress shop was anathema to him. He only suggested it because he didn’t believe for a moment that anyone would employ her.
Privately, Elaine shared his view. At twenty-five she saw herself as on the scrap-heap; not much use for anything, except bringing up her child and looking after a house. It wasn�
��t even her house either. And pretty soon she would have her mother-in-law laying down the law and telling her what to do. The thought was deeply depressing.
Lying in bed that night, sleepless as she so often was, she thought about her life, wondering just how she had drifted into her present situation and what was to become of her. She had grown up in what were known as the swinging sixties, yet she had seen very little of them. He mother had tended to be over-protective. She’d had only a brief glimpse of what real life could be like through Patrick. When she had been going out with him life had seemed so vivid, so brightly coloured, exciting and vital. And now that they were into a new decade all one heard about was Women’s Liberation. It seemed she was to miss out again. The whole thing seemed to her very much a no-win situation. One must first be free in order to take advantage of these trends.
In the early years of her marriage she had worried about the lack of physical contact between herself and Paul. Once she had even tried to speak to her mother about it. Grace had been embarrassed. Pressed for an opinion she had indicated that a lack of physical love was, to her way of thinking, a definite advantage — something to be thankful for. It made Elaine wonder for the first time if it might have been this attitude that had been responsible for her parents’ break-up.
As well as being mean with his affections Paul was tight with money, keeping her so short that at times she had difficulty in making ends meet. He and Elaine had little in common. Sometimes she had been so desperately unhappy and unfulfilled in her marriage that she had thought of ending it. But if she left Paul, what would she do? She was incapable of earning enough money to keep herself and Tricia and she knew Paul well enough to know that he would never agree to a divorce. The stigma would be too great and he would consider it harmful to his position as headmaster. Besides, there was Tricia to be considered. None of it was her fault. The child was talented; she deserved the best music teachers and all the chances available. Although she would miss her dreadfully, Elaine would even agree to sending her to a boarding school if that were the only way she could obtain the best musical education for her. She remembered what life had been like for herself and Grace after her father had left. The emotional trauma had been hard for her, and she was fairly certain that it hadn’t felt like liberation for her mother. No. She had been glad enough to marry Paul and there was nothing for it but to stay married to him. If only for Tricia’s sake.
Wives & Mothers Page 28
