Wives & Mothers

by Jeanne Whitmee

  When she told Paul he showed little interest.

  ‘Do what the hell you like,’ he said brusquely. ‘It doesn’t matter to me whether you’re here or not.’

  But to her surprise, when she broke the news to her mother-in-law, Mary seemed more anxious than disapproving. She’d been surprisingly affable since the night Paul had challenged her about Tricia, and when she learned that Elaine was to have a few days away on her own, a look of apprehension came into her eyes.

  ‘We shall miss you,’ she said. ‘Elaine — I hope it isn’t anything I’ve done that’s driving you away?’

  ‘No. I just need a rest,’ Elaine said guardedly. ‘And to get used to not having Tricia around. If I leave it till later, Alison and I will be too busy for me to have a break.’

  ‘It’s a pity you have to go alone,’ Mary said. ‘Maybe Paul could get his deputy to take over for a week, then he could go with you.’

  ‘No,’ Elaine said, a little too quickly. ‘One of the things I’m going over there for is to buy materials — maybe set up a deal or two. Better if I go alone.’

  ‘Of course. I understand.’ But privately Mary was seriously worried. Maybe she had said too much. The atmosphere in the house had been very strained since the night she’d talked to Paul. She sensed that if Elaine were to leave, Paul wouldn’t stay on with her at Langmere Lodge. What would become of her then? She couldn’t manage the house on her own. It was something she hadn’t foreseen.

  *

  The trip loomed in front of Elaine like an adventure. She had never been abroad before, never flown, and as the time drew near she found herself growing more nervous and apprehensive by the minute.

  Morgan met her train at King’s Cross and drove her to the flat where she was to stay overnight, catching her plane early the following morning.

  As a surprise he’d booked seats for a show that evening. They saw Godspell at Wyndham’s and had dinner afterwards at a quaint little restaurant in Greek Street, where Elaine enjoyed spotting celebrities.

  Morgan looked well, and very prosperous. He seemed to have an impressively large circle of friends. Many people greeted him warmly as they passed their table and Elaine vaguely recognised some of them. There was a news-reader from television with a middle-aged character actress, and two very glamorous models, both of who she’d seen often in fashion magazines.

  Morgan asked about Tricia and her new school, and about Grace, expressing regret that she wouldn’t come up more often to spend time with him in London.

  ‘She’s still basically a very shy person,’ he said affectionately. ‘But I’m working on getting her to spend a holiday in Switzerland with me soon. I’m relying on you to go back and excite her curiosity about the place.’ He paused, breaking a bread stick into tiny pieces. ‘Did she tell you I’d been trying to persuade her to come up here and share my flat?’

  ‘No.’ Elaine was surprised. ‘She hasn’t mentioned it to me.’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘She says she’s got too many ties in Cambridge and that she enjoys seeing Tricia and you often. But I think it’s that dogged independence of hers.’ He looked up at her. ‘I still miss her, you know. Grace is a wonderful, warm person. I owe her so much and I’d like to give her something back.’

  Elaine laid a hand on his arm. ‘But you have, Morgan. You’re a success. That’s all she’s ever wanted from you.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s a pity she had to give up the shop. She’s too young and too energetic to retire, and keeping an eye on the factory isn’t enough of a challenge for her.’

  ‘You needn’t worry about that,’ Elaine laughed. ‘Alison and I will be needing as much of her help as she’s prepared to give if we take off as we’re hoping.’

  He smiled. ‘It’s good to hear you say that. Between you and me, I think she’s afraid to offer in case you think she’s interfering.’

  He wanted to know all about ‘Happy Ever After’ and their first wedding, and was full of helpful suggestions. He also gave her a letter of introduction to a Swiss designer friend who lived in Davos and would show her where to look for the best embroidery and lace. To her relief he didn’t mention Paul at all.

  Next morning at the airport she tried hard to look like a seasoned traveller. On the plane she sat next to a smartly dressed woman who turned out to be an orthodontist, going to a dental convention in Zurich. It amazed Elaine that what seemed to her like an exciting journey into another world was taken for granted by people who did it every day of the week.

  At the airport a bus was waiting to take her to the railway station and then began an enchanting journey through the most magnificent scenery she had ever seen. She made two changes at tiny stations from which the little train climbed higher and higher into the mountains. Sitting by the window she looked out, entranced by the richness of colour and the chalets precariously perched on the hillsides. Cows with bells around their necks grazed serenely on the lush green grass under laden apple trees and farmers drove their tractors up and down impossibly sloping fields. She began to see the magic that had captivated Morgan.

  At Davos Dorf Station a small dapper man with thinning fair hair stepped forward and asked politely if she were Frau Kingston. When she told him she was, he beamed a welcome and introduced himself as Carl Kleber. Taking her suitcase from her, he led the way to a car, telling her as they went in his almost perfect English that his wife Krista had everything ready for her.

  As they drove Elaine sat in the back of the car looking out at the little town that seemed to have been hewn out of the mountain side, the streets built like terraces, one above the other. Smart little shops lined the gleamingly spotless streets. Restaurants and pavement cafes beckoned invitingly, their coloured umbrellas fluttering like a crop of bright flowers. Elaine longed to explore. As they drove she admired the fascinating mixture of new and old architecture, leaning forward to peer at the older houses and hotels, built in the traditional Swiss style, with timbered gables and painted shutters. Some boasted murals painted in bright colours on their white walls. And over all, dominating the town like benign, protective giants, towered the mountains, their craggy peaks still capped with snow that gleamed and sparkled like crystal against the azure backdrop of the sky. Who could ever have dreamed that such a magic place as this existed?

  Morgan’s chalet was on the fringe of the town on a road that climbed steeply. It was built high up on the lower slope of the mountain, and part of the first floor was actually cantilevered out over the mountainside, giving it a magnificent view of the town and the valley. Krista had prepared one of the rooms on that side of the house for Elaine. It was a spacious room with a rose pink carpet. The furniture was of natural golden pine, richly carved with flower and heart-shapes. The bed was huge, and covered by the traditional fat duvet. It had a half-tester from which hung white lace drapes, caught back with rose pink ties. Adjoining the bedroom was a pink and white bathroom, which Krista proudly displayed.

  ‘Here is das badezimmer,’ she said, hesitating and wrinkling her brow. Then, pointing to each of the taps in turn: ‘See — heiss — kalt. ' She shook her head, explaining haltingly that her English was not as good as that of her husband, who had worked as a chef in a London hotel for five years. She managed to covey to Elaine that she had prepared a meal of schnitzel, which was waiting in the oven in the gleaming modern kitchen downstairs, and that she would come in each evening if required, to prepare the main meal of the day. Then, with many smiles and good wishes, she left, wishing Elaine, ‘Guten abend.’

  *

  It seemed to Elaine that the magic of Switzerland waited round every corner to surprise and delight her. The sun wakened her early in the mornings and she would get out of bed to open the shutters and watch it rise over the mountain tops, the majestic blue-grey peaks turning first pink and then golden. The spectacle of the early morning sun spreading pale fingers to light and transform every rock and crevice never failed to thrill her. When the sun was fully up she would dress in jean
s and an anorak and set off to cross the bridges that led from street to street and climb the lower slopes of the mountain. There a little church, like a child’s toy, on a plateau looking out over the most beautiful view she had ever seen. Here she would rest awhile on the little wooden seat, listening to the bells whose sound echoed, round and golden through the valley, waiting until she had regained enough breath to make the descent again. Once the priest, a tall, slim West Indian man in a black soutane, joined her and they chatted like old friends until it was time for him to celebrate early mass.

  Slowly, as the days went by, she began to unwind, enthusiastically exploring the town with its smart shops and the surrounding valley. When she looked in the mirror she began to see a more serene, more relaxed face. The worry lines around her mouth and eyes began to smoothe out and her skin took on the golden glow that only mountain air and sun can provide. She visited Morgan’s friend and found him hospitable and friendly. He took her to his favourite suppliers and she spent a fascinating day examining their fine fabrics and watching the manufacture of lace and embroidery. In the evenings she ate Krista’s delicious food, then read or watched television. Though she could not understand the language, the sound of human voices took away the loneliness and put off the moment when she must put out the light. Then came bed and darkness and the time for thinking. But always, before she could apply her mind to the problem, pushed away during the day into the darkest corner of her mind, she fell mercifully asleep, tired by exercise and intoxicated by the heady mountain air.

  It was on the fourth day, when she returned in the early evening from a coach ride over the mountain passes to Lichtenstein, that Krista met her at the door, a slightly worried look on her face.

  ‘Frau Kingston, there is a visitor for you.’

  ‘For me?’ Elaine shook her head. ‘For Herr Owen, surely?’

  But the woman shook her head. ‘ Nein. He ask for Mrs Kingston. He is coming much hours ago.’ She shook her head, holding out her hand as she did so to indicate that the visitor was in the large room to the right of the hall. ‘I make tea, but he is, I think...’ She gave up and relapsed into her native German: ‘ Er ist des wartens mude. ’ She shook her head and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

  With a heavy heart Elaine walked towards the double doors that stood ajar. Paul. It could only be him. He had come to invade her little haven of peace — to make her go home again. The thought sliced through her mind like a scythe through grass. Nothing was resolved. There was no escape. Perhaps there never would be.

  Pushing one of the doors open she stood in the doorway. On the opposite side of the room the sliding glass doors that gave on to the balcony were open and he stood with his back towards her, looking out at the view. The fiery evening sun shone on his hair, turning it to a halo of spun gold. Her heart leapt dizzily with shock and disbelief.

  ‘Patrick.’

  He turned and began to walk towards her, hands outstretched, face alight with pleasure. ‘Hello, Elaine.’

  Her mind spun like a top. How did he know she was here? Why had he come? Had Zoe spoken to him? She voiced none of these thoughts, but as he took her hands he read the confused questions in her eyes.

  ‘I ran into Morgan,’ he explained. ‘He’d just driven you to Heathrow. I couldn’t get it out of my mind that you were here alone, Elaine. I knew there must be something wrong. I just felt that you needed me. I had to come.’

  She said nothing, just laid her head against his chest. His arms closed around her. It felt so good to be in his arms. After a moment he said against her hair: ‘It’s no use, my darling. We both know it’s no use, don’t we? I was such a fool to let you go all those years ago. We were always meant for each other and now we have to be together, no matter what.’

  They ate Krista’s supper without tasting it, barely taking their eyes from each other. Afterwards they talked. Patrick told her that his marriage was over. It had been a mistake — a failure from the beginning. They both knew it.

  They made love in the big white bed with the curtains drawn back from the balcony windows and the shutters open. Only the moonlit mountains standing sentinel. For Elaine it was like the first time all over again. Afterwards, as she lay in his arms, he said perceptively: ‘It’s been a long time, my love, hasn’t it? Not just since we made love, but a long time for you — with anyone.’

  ‘Paul and I haven’t shared a bed or anything else for years,’ she confided. ‘He doesn’t want me any more. As a wife, yes; as a status symbol, but not as a woman. It was never that kind of marriage.’ He raised his head to stare incredulously down at her. ‘Why have you stayed with him all this time? You’re a warm, loving woman. How could you bear to live with anyone on those terms, Elaine?’ She smiled gently. ‘It’s simple. There’s only ever been one man for me, Patrick. And as I couldn’t have you, it didn’t really matter. As a headmaster Paul needed a wife. Tricia deserved security. It seemed like a fair bargain. So I stayed.’

  An expression of pain crossed his face and he pulled her close. ‘God, if I’d only know. But we’ll be together from now on, darling. I’ll make it all up to you, I promise.’ He looked down into her eyes. ‘You won’t change your mind? You won’t go back to him again through some misguided sense of duty?’

  ‘No.’ She nestled close, burying her face in his neck. ‘No, I won’t change my mind. How can you think it?’

  There were two days left of the holiday and they spent them idyllically, as close to each other as it was possible to get. They went to the top of the Schatzalp in the cable car and stood hand in hand in the brilliant sunshine at what seemed like the very top of the world, gulping in the heady, iced-wine air till they felt drunk with it. They travelled down again, stopping for lunch in the restaurant halfway, and as they ate they planned their future.

  Patrick went back to the lace factory with her when she ordered fabric for wedding dresses, and in the back of her mind was a dream of the one she’d design and make for herself, to wear on the day she married him.

  On the last day they went again to Lichtenstein. But this time Elaine saw so much more than she’d seen the first time. With her hand clasped tightly in his, everything looked so much better; the colours brighter, the mountains more awesome — even the people seemed to smile more.

  They drank coffee at a pavement cafe in the shadow of the schloss, then strolled through the quaint, colourful streets.

  They bought ice cream and sat in a little park to eat it, but Elaine’s expression was sad as she looked around her. Suddenly none of it seemed real. She couldn’t lose the feeling that it was all a dream — one that would fade when they returned to England.

  ‘I can’t believe it will really happen,’ she said. ‘That things will really work out as we want and we’ll be together.’

  ‘It will. Of course it will,’ he promised, tipping her face up to his.

  ‘Paul will be difficult,’ she warned. ‘It won’t be easy, getting a divorce. He might contest it.’

  ‘Let him,’ he said, drawing her head on to his shoulder. ‘We’ll face whatever comes together. And I’ll make you a promise: We’ll come here again when it’s all over and we’re free to marry. We’ll come for our honeymoon. This will always be our special place, the place where we found each other at last.’ He laughed down at her. ‘This time next year we’ll be laughing at all our fears. You wait and see.’

  She closed her eyes, praying with all her heart that he was right; wishing that the coming weeks were behind them.

  *

  Mary struggled up the path with the two heavy bags of shopping bumping uncomfortably against her legs. Pausing for a moment at the foot of the steps, she rummaged in her handbag for her front door key. At the top of the steps she inserted the key, but to her surprise found the door unlatched. Dumping the bags in the hall she sank gratefully on to the telephone seat. Those new supermarkets were supposed to be labour-saving but in her opinion they were sheer hard work — for the customer anyway. A far c
ry from the days when one could simply ring for an order to be delivered at the tradesman’s entrance by a respectful little man in a brown overall. She’d had the greatest difficulty finding all the things she’d wanted in the maze of shelves and alleyways and she’d had to queue interminably at the check-out. The sour-faced girl sitting at the adding machine thing had been ill-mannered too, positively rude. If she hadn’t been so exhausted she’d have complained to the manager. She was too old for this kind of marathon, she told herself resentfully. This was one of her bridge afternoons too. She’d had to cancel when she discovered that there was nothing in the house for dinner. Thank goodness Elaine would be home tomorrow. She’d be more than glad to hand the household duties over to her again.

  She hung her outdoor things on the hallstand and carried the bags through to the kitchen, putting the kettle on for a cup of tea. Paul would be home soon. She would have to make a start on the dinner. But first she would go upstairs and change into her comfortable slippers.

  In the hall she paused, thinking she heard a sound. Of course the front door had been on the latch, so Paul must be home. He would be in his study, working as usual. At the top of the stairs she paused, puzzled to hear a murmur of voices coming from his bedroom. Crossing the landing she stood at the half open door, her hand raised to tap. She had opened her mouth to speak his name when a sudden movement caught her eye. On the opposite side of the room she could see the bed reflected in the dressing table mirror. Paul was on it. For a moment she thought he must be ill. She made to walk into the room — then he moved and she saw that he was naked, also that he was not alone. She froze. Paul’s companion was a young man. The sudden realisation of what was happening brought an involuntary cry of horror from her lips.

  The next moment chaos broke loose. Paul suddenly caught sight of his mother’s reflection in the mirror and his eyes widened in stunned surprise as they met hers. Momentarily confused, Mary backed away, making for the stairs, anxious to escape. From the bedroom behind her came the sounds of breathless voices raised in confusion.