Frankie looked at her father and her heart sank. Since she’d returned to London, she’d seen a different side to him, one that smiled and laughed freely, that ate and drank and sang. And it had all been because of her mother. So really, Grandma was right; Hugo would be freed when she passed away. It was tragic. But true. Her father could only be himself when his mother wasn’t around. How sad that some families ended up in such awful situations, that the people who should be there for them could be the ones who hurt and oppressed them the most.
‘Oh, Hugo, always the pacifier. Time for you to grow a set, isn’t it?’
‘What?’ Hugo’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.
‘Come on, Hugo, darling, you’ve let me rule you all your adult life.’
‘But… but… I didn’t want to upset you, Mother.’
‘And look where that got you. Your wife walked away and your daughter was sent off to boarding school.’
‘Mother, really, I—’
‘Let me speak candidly now, Hugo, please. It’s about time.’ She licked her lips then sucked in a breath. ‘If I’m not going to be around… then some things need to change. I won’t be like one of those voice-automated devices that you can put in every room so you can ask it questions, will I? There’s no link to heaven… or hell… or wherever I’m heading.’
She paused again, her lips tinted blue, and Frankie stood up.
‘Shall I call the nurse?’
Grandma shook her head. ‘Be OK… in a minute.’
They waited, the tension in the room palpable, and Frankie could see that it was taking a lot of effort for her father to stay in his seat. He obviously wanted to call for the nurse but he was torn between obedience and concern, as he had, apparently, always been.
‘You loved Freya and she loved you,’ Grandma finally continued, ‘but I didn’t think she was good enough for you. At first I thought you’d grow out of your fascination with her, but as time wore on I realized it would take a seismic shift to separate you from that… from Freya. I had high hopes that you would marry from your own class, but no, soft romantic that you are, you fell head-over-heels for her. That was where the problems started.’
Hugo hung his head and Frankie’s heart went out to him. This would be hard to hear but if Grandma was right, and this was the last chance she’d have to speak candidly, then she should have that opportunity. Besides, Frankie was still shocked that Grandma hadn’t launched into a reprimand that would have made an army general look like a fluffy bunny.
‘Actually, I’ve been fibbing. In truth, it all started with Pip Bellamy.’ Grandma sighed.
‘Pip Bellamy?’ Frankie asked
‘Yes, dear. I loved him very much.’
‘You loved Rolo’s grandfather?’ Her mother had mentioned something about this but Frankie hadn’t thought it could have been this serious, had wondered if it had in fact been a rumour as Freya told her Hugo had said.
‘Oh yes. Before your dear grandfather came along, Pip and I fell madly in love. I was sixteen and he was eighteen when we met. He was a junior clerk at my father’s firm in London and I met him there one day when I’d gone to see Papa. I fell for him instantly with his handsome face and his twinkly blue eyes. He seemed so much older, so worldly wise, rather marvellous, in fact. We managed to exchange notes and to accidentally on purpose bump into each other when he was on errands, and soon I knew I wanted to be his wife. He said it was impossible but we were a bit like Romeo and Juliet; everything was so passionate, intense and painful. It was terribly thrilling and back then I had such a thirst for excitement and adventure. However, someone saw us together, only talking… but it was enough in those days to raise eyebrows and my father hit the roof. He fired Pip and told him that if he ever came near me again, he would make sure he regretted it. My father was a powerful man in certain circles and back then, as now in many ways, money equalled power.’
‘Sorry… I can’t get my head around this.’ Frankie had abandoned her ladylike pose and was now hunched forwards on the chair with her hands on the bed. ‘You and Pip actually were in love. Like… properly in love?’
‘We were. Is it hard to imagine as you look at my wrinkled old form now?’
‘No. That’s not what I meant. I just find it so sad that Great-Grandpa would have done that to you.’
‘My mother agreed with him, of course. Marrying into another class was frowned upon then, even though we’d been through two world wars and lost so many of our young men. Some things never change.’
‘I hadn’t realized you loved him, Mother.’ Hugo shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry Grandpa did that to you.’
‘If I’d married Pip, I’d never have married your father and had you, Hugo, so don’t feel sorry for me. It was all a very long time ago and look at Pip now! He’s done so well for himself.’
‘So Pip started out… poor?’
Grandma nodded. ‘After my father fired him, he went away for a while and when he came back, he had money and a new confidence. It was as if my father had given him the push he needed, and he built his business from scratch, starting small with buying a few residential properties and warehouses and renting them out, then he kept on going. Now, as you know, he has an extensive property development portfolio. Money breeds money, eh?’
Frankie nodded. She knew a lot of people who’d made their money from investing in property, especially in areas like Belgravia and Mayfair.
‘Then, he married Henrietta Walford, whose father had long since passed and whose mother was far too interested in her gin bottle to care. Henrietta was wealthy too, having already been widowed, and together they built their empire. So, Pip did pretty well out of it all. Sometimes, my dears, things happen the way they’re meant to.’
Frankie nodded, but something wasn’t sitting well with her.
‘Grandma, I can understand all of that but what about my mother and father? You pushed Freya away when she was ill. Why did you do that? Did you… hate her that much?’
Helen smoothed out the quilt cover and when she opened her mouth, her lips trembled slightly.
‘I never hated Freya. It wasn’t hate, more disapproval. She was so arty-farty and—’
‘Arty-farty?’ Hugo’s voice rose. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean, Mother?’
Helen waved her hands around as if searching for the words. ‘You know… she was a painter and had no solid income or aspirations and I didn’t believe she was good for you. Either of you. And her… her weakness irritated me.’
‘Weakness?’ Frankie’s jaw dropped. ‘Grandma, she had post-natal depression. That’s an illness not a weakness. She was low enough as it was and you offered her no support. Instead, you kicked her when she was down.’
Grandma nodded but she didn’t seem smug about it. Her eyes were sad when they met Frankie’s, her shoulders hunched forwards as if the knowledge was a weight around her scrawny neck.
‘So you forced my parents apart because of social class.’
‘I did.’
‘You thought it wouldn’t work?’
‘Yes. I suspected she might have been after his money and the security of marrying into our family… that she was a scrounger.’
‘But you’ve already admitted that you wanted something like that for me… by marrying me to Rolo.’
‘I did, Frances, but you are from the same class as Rolo and you have a good career. You’re not living off pennies you make from selling your paintings.’ Hugo coughed so Helen turned to him. ‘Oh come on, Hugo, she wasn’t exactly raking it in, was she? You, Frances, had much to offer Rolo in return. There was no inequality between you. Freya was from a council estate and from… hippy parents. They’d both died by the time I met her and she seemed so… lost and needy. Your father has such a big heart and I feared he’d give her everything, or that at some point she would tire of him and take him to the cleaners, as they say.’
‘I wanted to give her everything, Mother.’
‘I regret what I did now… s
eeing the hurt it has caused you two, but it was almost thirty years ago. Things change. People change.’
‘Are you saying you’d do it differently now, Grandma?’
‘Who knows? Maybe I would. But hindsight has a lot to do with that. At that time, when I found you all alone, a tiny baby abandoned by her mother, I thought I was doing the best for you. What if she’d done it when I wasn’t there, Frances? As it was, you were in your cot, but if you’d been a bit older and toddling around and she’d walked out, you could have wandered into the garden and fallen in the pond or down the steps. You could have trotted out onto the street and been abducted by someone or mown down by a car. Anything could have happened and you were far too precious for that.’
‘But if you’d got my mother some help, it wouldn’t have happened. She needed help. She was a member of your family too.’ Frankie’s throat was tight and she swallowed hard. She didn’t want to lose her temper, or to start crying, because she wanted to hear Grandma out. But this was incredibly difficult. ‘Anyway… if I was so precious why did you send me away to boarding school when I was six?’
Grandma winced then rubbed her eyes. ‘As you grew, you started to remind me of Freya. It was like being haunted by a spectre that increased my guilt. Your eyes were like hers, the way you sang when you were in the garden, the way your little nose wrinkled up when you were sad. It all reminded me of how I’d pushed her away from you and awareness of what I’d done started to gnaw at me. Not seeing you every day was a way of trying to forget.’
‘You could have sent me to my mother.’
‘That couldn’t have happened. As far as we knew, Freya had moved on. I thought Hugo would move on… I was wrong.’
The three of them sat in silence as Grandma’s words drifted around them, a tale of loss and heartbreak, passion and class. Frankie’s chest was tight, heavy with sadness and grief, for what had been lost and for what was to come if Grandma didn’t recover.
‘I hate my job.’ Frankie blurted her confession, the silence in the room had become imposing and she needed to be honest too.
‘Pardon?’ Grandma frowned.
Hugo’s face, already pale, blanched completely.
‘I need to say it now, while we’re sharing candidly.’
‘But why, dear? It’s a good job.’
‘I find it boring. I find no satisfaction in it at all. It is a good career for some, but it’s not for me.’
‘Then change it now, Frankie.’ Her father nodded. ‘Do it.’
‘And do what instead, now you won’t have a wealthy husband to support you?’ Grandma asked.
‘I want to design clothing.’
‘Oh no, not that again.’ Grandma sighed dramatically.
‘Mother!’ Hugo’s tone was sharp and his mother gasped then buried her face in her hands.
‘I’m sorry. Old habits are hard to break.’ She looked up again. ‘Frances… you must do what makes you happy, and if that means finding your mother too, then do it. I am sure that she will be glad to see you.’
Frankie met her father’s eyes and his widened.
‘Actually, Mother, there’s something I need to tell you. Frankie didn’t return to London alone…’
Chapter 26
On the drive back from the hospital, Frankie felt drained. Her whole body ached with exhaustion and she wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
It had been a day of revelations.
Grandma had taken the news about Freya being in her house better than expected and even reassured Hugo and Frankie that she’d be in the hospital for some time, so they should spend some quality time with her estranged daughter-in-law.
Something occurred to Frankie.
‘Dad?’
‘Yes.’
‘When did you get divorced? I realized I never asked before. I just assumed you’d done it when I was small.’
He cleared his throat but his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
‘Actually, we never did.’
‘You’re still married?’
‘To my knowledge and I don’t think she could have divorced me without my knowing.’
‘What do you mean… to your knowledge? How did Grandma let you get away with that?’
‘I might have told her that I took care of it all.’
‘She didn’t demand to see the papers?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure why. Perhaps she knew deep down, perhaps she felt guilty enough as it was, or perhaps she didn’t want to push me with that one. It might have been a step too far.’
‘You think you would have stood up to her on that?’
‘I do. When I married your mother, I felt it was binding. Not in a religious sense but because I loved her deeply. I’d never met anyone like her and I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be with another woman. Besides, I thought that if anything happened to me and she came back for you, then at least she’d have some money to support you both.’
Frankie nodded then released a deep sigh.
‘What a complicated history.’
Her father glanced at her. ‘I’m sorry, angel. I let you and Freya down.’
‘Dad, it’s what we do from here that matters.’
He flashed her a smile.
‘Do you think Grandma will be OK?’
‘I don’t know. I hope so, because whatever she’s done, she’s still my mother. I still love her, even though she was never the warmest of women. I think that’s another reason why I fell for your mother. Freya is the warmest woman in the world. She lights up a room when she enters it and she has a way of making you feel better about everything.’
‘Sounds to me like you still have feelings for her.’ Frankie gazed out of the windscreen but from the corner of her eye, she saw her father’s cheek darken.
‘Between you and me, Frankie, I never stopped loving her. Never will. She’s the only woman for me, even if she doesn’t feel the same. I wouldn’t expect her to care for me after what happened.’ He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel then cleared his throat, as if embarrassed to admit that he could understand why Freya could never love him again.
And Frankie wondered, how did Freya feel? Was it possible that she still had feelings for Hugo or would that be too much to hope for? It was rather a lot to hope for.
‘I love you, Dad.’
‘I love you more.’
* * *
Jonas and Freya had walked for miles. They’d taken the Tube into central London and Freya had shown him around the city she used to live in, keen to distract them both from where Frankie and Hugo had gone. It wasn’t for Jonas to worry, of course, because Frankie wasn’t his girlfriend, but he couldn’t help it. Freya had spoken to him that morning after Frankie and Hugo had gone, telling him more about Helen Ashford and how she’d made Freya feel she wasn’t good enough for her son. From what Jonas could gather, Helen Ashford was a hard woman and she had a sharp tongue. He hated the thought of her upsetting Frankie and Hugo but he was also worried that Frankie would be upset at seeing her grandmother in a hospital bed. It was all very complicated indeed.
‘Where shall we go next?’ Freya looked at her watch. They had just grabbed a sandwich and coffee in a small cafe and were back out on the street. He pulled his beanie down over his ears and tucked his hands in his coat pocket.
‘Do you think they’ll be home yet?’
Freya met his eyes and he could see how worried she was too.
‘Maybe.’
‘Shall we head back and find out?’
‘OK.’
She tucked her arm into his and they headed for the nearest Tube station, the wind making their eyes sting and goose pimples rise on his skin. Norway could be cold but the way the wind howled around the streets of London made it like a freezer.
Jonas chatted on their journey home, about the landmarks they’d seen and how impressive they were. His favourites had been the cosy pubs and the markets where you could buy just about anything.
He had enjoyed himself but knew he’d have enjoyed it more if Frankie had been with them. The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her, and the more he saw of her, the more he wanted to. She was a fascinating woman and he was growing increasingly fond of her.
Too fond perhaps, seeing as how they were going back to Norway in two days. Freya said she’d have liked to stay longer but they couldn’t leave the shop indefinitely and Jonas didn’t like to leave Luna with his mum for long periods. She loved Luna but found her hard to walk at times, and Jonas knew it was because his mum was too soft with her. Luna was an angel on the lead for him, so he knew she took advantage when she stayed with his mum. At least they’d be having lots of cuddles.
When they arrived back at the house, Freya walked up the steps first and knocked on the door. Hugo opened it almost immediately, and the smile that spread across his face made him appear twenty years younger.
‘You’re back!’ His voice sounded relieved, as if he’d suspected they might not return.
Inside, Freya shrugged out of her coat and scarf.
‘How did it go, Hugo?’
‘All right, actually. Better than Frankie and I had anticipated, I think.’
Jonas looked around, wondering where Frankie was.
‘She’s gone for a nap,’ Hugo said, nodding at the stairs. ‘It was quite draining.’
‘Are you tired too?’ Freya asked.
‘No, I’m fine. I’ll go and put the kettle on.’
‘Great idea.’
Freya followed Hugo through to the kitchen.
Jonas hung his coat and hat on the stand then paused. Freya and Hugo might want some time alone to talk, so he would go up to his room and read for a bit. He didn’t want to be in the way and he had so been looking forward to seeing Frankie that he had to fight off the disappointment.
Yes, he’d go and lose himself in a book then possibly take a nap himself. At least when he woke up, Frankie would be up and about too.
He climbed the stairs, two at a time, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet beneath his soles and trying to work out how many people would fit on each stair at a time. They were so wide that he estimated fifteen people could stand on one stair if they turned sideways and were squashed together. When he reached the first landing, he turned right to go to his room but he heard a noise from the next floor, so he looked up.
Love at the Northern Lights Page 18
