The Factory Girl

by Nancy Carson

  Neville was driving them back home along Oakham Road, directed by Henzey, towards the Birmingham New Road via the back way.

  ‘What’s in a name, Henzey? I’d have still been the same me. The same sad, old face, the same flesh and blood, the same suffering heart.’

  Henzey thought he sounded morbid, sorry for himself, considering the fascinating afternoon he’d had. She glanced across at him challengingly. ‘But you’d be leading a totally different way of life. You’d be a totally different person.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘It stands to reason, Neville. You’d be living like the rest of us in some terraced house, I daresay, working in some factory or as a clerk somewhere. Hardly the splendour you do enjoy. You’d probably have six or seven kids screaming round you and a wife that looked as if she had, old before her time, nagging you to death.’

  ‘Instead of the housebound cripple I’m now married to, you mean? Henzey, my dear, I might as well be common or garden Joe Hipkiss. Chances are I’d be a jolly sight happier.’

  After watching his eyes alight all afternoon in Charlotte’s company, Henzey was concerned about his melancholy now and his unkind comments about Eunice, which she found unfair. She sighed. ‘Oh, Neville. After what you’ve learnt today I thought you’d be ever so happy. What’s eating at you?’

  At once he swerved into a long drive on the left and, with a gasp, Henzey lurched to her right in her seat. It was the driveway to the Dudley Golf Club, overhung with trees. Long before they reached the clubhouse, he pulled up in the shade of a huge oak tree and killed the engine.

  ‘What’s wrong? You frightened me to death.’

  ‘Sorry about that, Henzey. Look I want to tell you about me. All about me. Things I’ve wanted to tell you for ages. This seems as good a place and as convenient a time as any. I’m in the mood and at least I’ve got you all to myself.’

  ‘Just so long as I’m back home in time to get Will’s meal ready.’

  ‘I expect you will be.’ His voice was tinged with cynicism. ‘First, let me tell you about Eunice.’

  Henzey wound the window down and leaned her arm out, relishing the coolness of the shade beneath the oak tree. Her clothes were sticking to her body in the humidity. The leaves above them stirred as if agitated and she looked up to see a squirrel bounding energetically from one branch to another, being harangued by two magpies. She watched them for a few seconds, diverted from Neville’s intensity.

  ‘Henzey, I want to tell you about Eunice.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  He paused, and sighed. ‘I met her one Christmas when I was at university – one Christmas when I didn’t go home. It was at a party I was invited to, given by some of my friends. I was strongly attracted to her the moment I saw her and I got somebody to introduce us. Well, we talked and we seemed to get on very well. In fact, we talked for ages. We neither seemed to notice anyone else there. Anyway, she agreed to meet me again, and I took her to an organ recital at my college. Afterwards, we went for a drink at a pub in Oxford. We had so much to say to each other we hardly had time to draw breath. I soon realised we had fallen deeply in love.

  ‘That summer we managed to sneak away to France together for a holiday. My mother thought I was going camping with some of my chums, and her folks believed she was going to stay with a friend she had in Hereford. Even in those days I was blessed with a motor car, so we motored to the Loire in France, taking our time, staying overnight in small hotels…as Mr and Mrs Worthington…The memory of those wonderful nights of endless lovemaking torments me now, Henzey. I believed then that Eunice and I were meant for each other. That we were each other’s destiny.

  ‘When we returned home, things went on apace. For two years we couldn’t bear to be apart. So we married soon after I graduated and we moved into Wessex House with my mother and all her staff. It was always taken for granted that I should assume the running of the family business, which I did. Anyway, before long my son was born. Things couldn’t have been better. Eunice and I were happy, we lived extremely well and Frederic was a healthy, beautiful baby.’

  Henzey saw the squirrel run down the trunk of the tree and sit for a few moments on the grass, its tail erect, before it darted up another tree, indifferent to the magpies. But her mind was not on the squirrel any more, nor the magpies. It was concentrated on Neville, Eunice, their nights of love and the birth of their child. Eunice was lucky. Eunice had had her children already.

  ‘But then things started to go wrong,’ Neville went on. ‘Worthington Commercials started losing money – badly.’

  ‘Oh? Why was that?’

  ‘We’d developed a new, streamlined, electric tram. It cost us a fortune. In fact it cost so much that we were in the red at the bank for thousands, with little prospect of revenue from sales of the vehicle recovering it. In fact there were no takers at all. Public transport operators said it couldn’t carry enough passengers for such a high investment, you see. So we had to set our sights lower. We concentrated on a modest little three-wheeled van I’d been toying with, in the hope that it would save us. Meanwhile, while I’d been working my fingers to the bone, burning the midnight oil at the factory, Eunice had found a stimulating diversion…’

  ‘Oh? What?’

  ‘You mean who…The disavowed son of a wealthy landowner; a certain Harris Channon, who was five years younger than Eunice and who used to pay her the most outrageous compliments. He turned her head and…well…they became lovers. You can imagine, Henzey, that I was utterly distraught.’

  ‘Oh, but that’s terrible, Neville. I knew you were…that something was amiss with your marriage first time I met you, but I had no idea what.’

  ‘Oh, I loved my wife, Henzey – I loved her with all my heart. But with that to face, as well as the business going to the wall, I was at my wits end. I pleaded with Eunice not to leave me, trying to persuade her it was a frivolous affair she’d embarked on and that it would pass. But months later there was no sign of it waning. In fact, it seemed to me to be intensifying and she began demanding whole weekends away with him. Of course, I refused to allow it and threatened to expose her behaviour to her family if she so much as mentioned it again. By this time, the banks had all but foreclosed on us. I’d already sold my car – a Rolls Royce – Wessex House would have to be sold too, as would everything else I owned, to pay off debts.

  ‘Then Eunice came up with a proposition. She would throw in her fortune – a not inconsiderable sum I might say, which had been held in trust pending her twenty-fifth birthday – not her marriage, significantly. Her father, before he died, didn’t altogether approve of his only daughter being married to the illegitimate son of a long forgotten industrialist. So, provided I would allow her to conduct her affair freely with young Harris Channon and, at the same time, make her a director in the business, I could use the money – all of it. Frankly, Henzey, it was the answer to all my prayers and I accepted without hesitation. It meant that Eunice would still be my wife, remaining at Wessex House. I would still have her and Frederic with me and the house and the business would be saved. Of course, I didn’t relish the idea of her wild nights of passion with damned Harris Channon. It made me sick to contemplate it. But I had no choice. Her money saved us from ruin and I was glad of that. Better I had it than him. And I knew it would be just a matter of time before she was back with me in spirit.’

  ‘I really had no idea, Neville. Good gracious…When did all this happen? Before the Wall Street Crash?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Long before the Crash.’

  ‘So what happened to this Harris Channon?’

  ‘She continued to see him for some little while afterwards. But, when he realised that her money was gone, propping up Worthington Commercials, he seemed to lose interest rapidly. And by the time Eunice realised it was only her money he’d been interested in, I had lost interest in Eunice as well. If she’d wanted to go then, she could have done, as far as I was concerned. But of course she couldn’t. She had no
where to go and no money left to go with. She was reliant on me. Ironic, isn’t it?’

  ‘But then Kitty came along. Had you not counted on having another child?’

  ‘Kitty was a shock to both of us, I can tell you. A hell of a shock.’

  ‘But she’s beautiful. You must love her to bits.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘And Eunice’s illness? When did she become ill?’

  ‘She’d shown symptoms while she was carrying Kitty, although we were blind to them. But when she began to lose the use of her legs after it all, the doctor diagnosed her problem as Cruveilhier’s atrophy…multiple sclerosis.’

  ‘She won’t get better, either, will she?’

  He shook his head ruefully. ‘No, she won’t get better. So you see, Henzey, Eunice and I are somehow stuck with each other.’

  ‘For better, for worse.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health.’

  ‘And how long have you felt like this about her? Indifferent, I mean.’

  ‘I felt it already when you and I first met, Henzey. Six years ago now.’

  ‘Before she fell ill. I remember you saying you were disenchanted with marriage, but not with love. Something like that, at any rate.’

  ‘Oh, that’s the absolute truth. And when first I set eyes on you, it brought it right home to me. You see, Henzey, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Desperately in love. I’ve been in love with you ever since.’

  ‘Oh, Neville!’ Strangely, she felt shock and disappointment. She wanted to curl up into a ball and put her hands over her ears so she could hear no more such words. She was a married woman after all. And his own wife depended on him for her very existence, despite what she’d done to hurt him. ‘Neville, you should have the grace not to say such things,’ she said in admonishment.

  ‘But you must have known it, Henzey. I didn’t try to hide it. I didn’t even try to hide it from Eunice.’

  ‘I only saw you that once. I just thought that you wanted to…oh, you know…you know what men are like.’ She cast her eyes down. ‘You said some very outlandish things to me. I certainly wouldn’t have called it love. Lust, maybe…’

  ‘Well I hope I didn’t offend you.’

  She laughed now, tossing her head back. ‘No, you didn’t offend me. I thought it was funny.’

  ‘Good.’ He smiled at her, his eyes brighter, striving to push back the dulling veil of bad memories. ‘I wanted to invite you and that Billy Witts over to dinner, just so I could see you again…but time and events prevented it. Then, next thing I knew, the Wall Street Crash had hit us and you and him were no longer an entity. After that I resigned myself to having lost you forever. I had no idea how to find you. I certainly couldn’t ask him.’

  ‘And how did you know that Billy and I were no longer an entity, as you put it?’

  ‘Oh, I heard. I forget how, but I heard it somewhere.’

  ‘So it must have been a shock to see me with Will?’

  ‘Shock? My God, you’ll never know just how much of a shock. But I hadn’t forgotten you, Henzey. Often I thought about you, wondering where you were, what you were doing.’

  ‘And, all the time, I’ve been living only half a mile from you, as the crow flies.’

  ‘I know. So near and yet so far, I think the expression is.’

  Boldly he slid his left arm across the back of her seat and touched her neck. Henzey recoiled slightly at his touch but looked into his eyes. She felt desperately sorry for him and the emotional torment he had endured with Eunice, before and since her illness. His expression of insecurity now was hardly surprising in the circumstances. He was uncertain of himself at this very moment, uncertain how she would react, and she could sense it. For him to make this small move of touching her neck had taken some courage, especially since he must know that he would receive only a rebuttal.

  ‘I think it’s time we went, Neville, don’t you?’ she said, without haughtiness. There was even a trace of humility in her voice.

  ‘Not until I know you understand how I feel.’

  ‘But Neville, it can do you no good, can it? I’m married to Will. I love him. I love him dearly. Nothing can alter that.’

  ‘But he won’t give you a child, will he?’

  There was a pause while she collected her thoughts.

  His comment stunned her. It was grossly unfair. It was unfair on her, and on Will.

  ‘That’s our business,’ she replied coldly.

  ‘I only know what Eunice told me. You were talking to her about it, I understand. She said how desperate you are for a child.’

  ‘Then if you know that much, you must also know about Will’s phobia. But I will have my child, Neville. All in good time. I can understand Will’s fears after losing his first wife in childbirth. Can’t you? He’ll get over it. I’ll help him get over it.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, but impatiently. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I accept all that you say. But the fact remains, Henzey – I am hopelessly, helplessly in love with you.’

  ‘Neville!’ she exclaimed in mild exasperation.

  ‘I know, I know. The woman I have come to hold dearer than even life itself is happily married to the very man I have come to admire most. How do you think that sits with me, Henzey?’

  She shrugged. ‘Not comfortably, I imagine.’

  He sighed. ‘Not comfortably is a bit of an understatement, I can assure you. But your being married to him doesn’t alter the way I feel. I can’t help the way I feel.’

  ‘Neville, I’m so sorry. I…’

  ‘I haven’t slept properly since I saw you again. You’re constantly on my mind. I want you to understand that.’

  She shook her head slowly. ‘Neville, I don’t know what to say…I’m flattered. Of course I’m flattered. But that’s all. I can never give you back what you say you feel for me. Never.’

  ‘You know, Henzey, when I’m lying in bed at night I try to imagine you by my side. I try to imagine your kisses, the feel of your skin next to mine, the smoothness of your thighs as—’

  ‘Neville!’

  ‘I shock you, Henzey. Good.’

  ‘Well I’m hardly used to that kind of talk.’

  ‘I want you…Badly…I can’t help it.’

  ‘Will you take me home now, please?’

  ‘Only if you’re sure you understand how I feel.’

  ‘Oh, I understand perfectly now.’

  ‘I don’t think you do, Henzey. I don’t think you’ll ever understand. But you must understand that I am not the happiest of men…’

  She turned to look at him. His eyes were full and watery, about to weep, which moved her to tears herself. She turned away, biting her lip, trying desperately to stem the flow.

  He said, ‘I’ll take you home then.’ His voice was ragged with emotion.

  Chapter 21

  Henzey filled her kettle with water and placed it on the gas. She desperately needed a cup of strong tea and an hour or so of quiet contemplation to try and come to terms with Neville’s unsettling confession of love. Oh, she’d known all along that he fancied her, but she’d had no inkling at all that his emotions ran so dangerously deep; emotions that were so unnerving. His lust, captive within his own mind, his admiring glances, she could cope with easily as long as she was protected by Will’s or Eunice’s presence; then she could even flirt with him, playfully egg him on. But this was deadly serious now. It required some contemplation, some assimilation and even consideration as to whether or not she should confide it all to Will.

  Neville and she had said little more to each other as they drove back to Ladywood, both trying to come to terms with this new state of affairs that would forever alter any future dealings they might have. As she alighted from his Swallow his parting words were: ‘Sorry, Henzey. It’s how I feel…You’ve no idea…I had to let you know.’ And she’d smiled, a smile that to him seemed to suggest she felt sorry for him. Then she was gone.

/>   The kettle began to whistle, interrupting her thoughts as she stood, propping herself against the sink, gazing absently through the window across the reservoir. Above the trees, on the opposite side, she could just discern the twisted chimneys of Wessex House and knew that Neville would be there already, pondering above all their encounter, not the visit to Charlotte and Clara. Pensively, she reached for the tea caddy and loaded two spoonfuls of tea leaves into the brown, ceramic teapot. Why did Neville have to complicate her life? She was happy, she was content – well, not quite content yet – but almost content. She would be utterly content when she had a child – even when she knew she was carrying a child. So why did another man have to encroach on that contentment, hoping to claim a share of it? Although she did not want to be romantically involved with Neville – indeed she could not, even if she wanted to – his revelation was disturbing. It would not be nearly so bad if she disliked him; she could simply turn away and ignore his overtures. But she did like him. She enjoyed his company. He amused her, stimulated her with his directness and sometimes even shocked her. Oh yes, he’d shocked her now; to the source of her very soul.

  She drenched the leaves in the pot with the boiling water and set it on the stove to steep, knowing it would be impossible to turn her back on him. He was a friend and had to be treated thus. Of course she had been as honest with him as he with her, and told him in forthright terms that she could never requite his love. She could not have put it more plainly. But, being the kind of person she was, she could disregard neither his devotion nor the anguish he must be suffering because of it. There was nothing worse than to be in love with someone who belonged to, or loved, or preferred to be with somebody else, as she knew from her own bitter experience. Imagining the object of your desire lying in bed with another was absolute hell. She knew it from her own anguish over Billy Witts and Nellie Dewsbury. It would be no different for Neville.

  It crossed her mind whether Neville’s obsession for her might have a detrimental effect on Will’s position at work. If Neville wished to be vindictive, as a customer of Lucas Electrical, might he have any influence with the hierarchy and begin a whispering campaign to unsettle their confidence in him and thus render his job less secure? But as she reached for a cup and saucer, she dismissed that notion. If she had read Neville correctly he was in as much turmoil over the betrayal of his new friendship with Will as he was with his yearning for herself. After all, it was Will whose company had been sought for dinner at Wessex House, not hers; they were not aware she still existed. To be thus invited, he must have been well liked and well respected.