by Nancy Carson
She arrived, expected, shortly after two o’ clock, for she had telephoned Clara on Monday from work to tell her she intended visiting her. The ritual of putting the kettle on to boil and the subsequent making of tea was strictly observed and, as they sat at Clara’s table, Henzey revealed that Will was Bessie Hipkiss’s other missing son, and told her of the offer the Worthingtons had made to welcome him back into the family.
‘But there’s more, Clara. Nobody else knows, so you must swear to keep it a secret.’
‘If you’ve any doubt about my ability to keep something quiet, then don’t tell me,’ Clara said. ‘But you know I’d never divulge something you didn’t want anybody else to know.’
‘Yes, I know that…’
‘Here, have another piece of cake.’
‘Thank you…That’s why I’m going to tell you. I’m going to tell you anyway, because I don’t know properly what I should do for the best. I feel too close to the problem to make a proper judgement. I’m frantic for some advice and you’re the only person, apart from your mother, who knows this whole damn story from top to bottom. And I daren’t tell her.’
‘Well what is it? What advice d’you want, Henzey?’
‘The fact is, Clara, I’m pregnant.’
Clara smiled with pleasure at the news. ‘But that’s lovely, Henzey. Best news I’ve heard in a long time. You’re pleased as Punch, I imagine. So what advice d’you need?’
Henzey nibbled the cake. ‘I’m having Neville’s child, not Will’s.’
Clara gasped.
‘When I tell you how it happened you’ll never believe me.’
‘It can only happen one way, Henzey.’
‘Oh, I don’t mean that. I mean, how it came to be Neville’s child. I can scarcely believe it myself. You see, I thought Neville was Will at first…’ Henzey explained. It took her about ten minutes.
‘And you’re absolutely certain it was not Will who came to your bed those nights?’
‘It was not Will,’ she said emphatically. ‘It couldn’t have been Will.’
‘And you never discussed it with him?’
‘How could I, Clara? It would have meant confessing I was having an affair – with his brother of all people. We never discussed anything the whole time it was going on. Nothing. I was too scared to open my mouth in case the conversation veered that way.’
Clara was convinced.
‘So what should I do?’ Henzey asked.
Her friend lifted the teapot thoughtfully and refilled their cups. ‘You’ve got no choice as I see it, Henzey. If you want the child you must say nothing and have it as if it was Will’s. Who’s to say any different? It’ll have the same family resemblance, the same Worthington blood. And look what an unholy mess there’d be if you told anybody any different.’ She poured milk into the cups. ‘Keep it to yourself, else everything will be ruined. Will need never be any the wiser.’
‘I understand what you’re saying, Clara, but…’
‘But nothing. Women are passing off lovers’ babies all the time as their husbands’.’ She spooned sugar into her own cup and began to stir it. ‘Oh, you’d be amazed, Henzey. Believe me. I could name three women already, not counting yourself, that I know of. You certainly wouldn’t be alone. I know you’re a decent and honest girl and that you want to be honourable but, in this, neither honesty nor honour is the best policy, take my word. Let your conscience get used to the lie and live with it contentedly.
‘Do you honestly think so?’
‘I know so. It’s funny, but that day you brought Neville to see Mother and me, I saw the way he looked at you. I thought then that he’d got his eye on you. Mother remarked on it as well after you’d gone. She reckons he must be a chip off the old block.’
‘So what does that make Will, I wonder? He’s totally different. They just look alike.’
‘Tell me, though, Henzey. Do you feel any resentment towards Neville for taking advantage of you in the first place?’ She sipped her tea, peering over the top of her cup intently.
Henzey allowed herself a laugh. ‘Not now. The only resentment I feel is towards Will, for refusing to start a family. He’s frightened silly that what happened to his first wife would happen to me. But childbirth doesn’t scare me, Clara, and I can’t make him understand that…I’ve wanted a baby ever since we got married and now I’m having one. That makes me very happy. It sort of makes up for the guilt.’
‘Oh, don’t feel guilty, Henzey. You didn’t know it was Neville the first time. You had no idea.’
‘I just felt it was my fault. I actually thought it was my fault that Neville fancied me. Now I feel guilty at not being able to tell Will the truth. I’m still cheating on him in that way.’
‘Ignore it. Never ever confess. Whatever happens, Will can’t take your baby away from you.’
‘No he can’t, can he? Oh, Clara, I’m ever so glad I came to see you. You’ve helped straighten me out no end. I feel a lot happier now. Thank you.’
‘Just don’t go blabbing it. If ever you feel the inclination to confess to Will, remember I warned you not to.’
‘Have no fear, Clara…You haven’t got any plums, have you?’
It was nearing four o’clock when Henzey left Clara. She felt that a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders and thanked God for Clara’s clarity of thought. It had been her intention to visit Lizzie, her mother, as well while she was in Dudley, but time was pressing on and she must get home. As she approached the tram stop, the tram she had hoped to catch was leaving so, rather than wait for the next, she decided to catch the bus. It travelled a different route, along the Birmingham New Road, and entered the city via Hagley Road and Broad Street.
As Henzey stood up to get off at her stop by the Oratory in Hagley Road, she naturally looked in the direction of Wessex House on the opposite side. She could see Eunice in her wheelchair, a shawl wrapped around her, leaning forward, tending to some plant or other in the front garden. Then, suddenly, Henzey caught sight of the wheelchair tipping up, throwing Eunice forward onto the ground. Somehow, she must have leaned too far forward.
Before the bus had drawn to a halt, Henzey had jumped off it and, dodging the traffic, ran to help. As she ran down the drive she could see that Eunice was alone, lying on the path, struggling to shove the wheelchair away, since it had ended up on top of her.
She called out: ‘Eunice, Eunice, hang on.’
When she reached her, Eunice looked shaken but seemed otherwise unhurt. At once Henzey uprighted the wheelchair and set about lifting Eunice back into it, with no thought for her own condition. But, thankfully, the gardener appeared, having heard Eunice’s frantic cries. He ran towards them and effortlessly lifted her back into the wheelchair while Henzey steadied it.
Eunice thanked them both and assured them that she was unhurt. The gardener went about his business.
‘Henzey, how can I thank you enough? It’s so fortunate that you suddenly appeared. Heaven sent, I should say.’
‘I was just getting off the bus, Eunice. I happened to see you tumble so I ran over straight away.’
‘Goodness knows how long I might have lain there if you hadn’t.’ She dusted herself off and then laughed. ‘I must have looked an absolute picture. Neville would have howled.’
‘I’m sure he would not, Eunice. Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘I’ll be fine when my pulse rate has slowed down a bit. Take me inside, please, Henzey, would you? I’ll get Lilian to make us a pot of tea – if you have time.’
‘All right. I reckon I’ve got time before Will gets home.’ She pushed Eunice and her wheelchair round the rear of the house towards the ramp.
‘Oh, it won’t hurt him to wait a little while. How is he? Has he got used to the idea of being a director of Worthington’s yet?’
‘He seems to be getting used to it quickly enough. He can hardly wait to begin. He’s bubbling with enthusiasm.’
‘Wonderful news. And you, Henzey? I bet it
was all a bit of shock, eh?’
‘You’ll never know how much, Eunice.’
They went inside and Eunice called Lilian, requesting that pot of tea for two and some biscuits. In the drawing room, Eunice invited Henzey to sit down.
‘It’s rather special for me, too, you know, Henzey,’ Eunice remarked. ‘I now have a brother-in-law and a sister-in-law. Something I never had before. I intend to enjoy them, too, and see them as often as possible.’
Henzey smiled. ‘I hadn’t thought about it from that point of view,’ she confessed. ‘But yes, it’ll be quite a change for you as well.’
‘But we’ve had more time to get used to the idea than you have, my dear. Time when we considered what best to do.’
‘I expect it must have been a big decision to offer Will such a generous welcome into the family.’
‘It’s simply what Neville had always intended. He’s a very noble person in some ways…if not in others. I must say, though, that he’s shown me far more nobility in the past than perhaps I deserve. Nowadays I’m thankful he did. Frankly I don’t know how I would survive without him.’
Henzey did not reply. She felt an illogical pang of remorse at Eunice’s open admission of dependency, as if she had some strange preconception that Henzey might want to lure Neville away.
‘How are the children?’ Henzey asked instead, turning the subject.
‘The children,’ Eunice answered, and her tone was strangely nostalgic, as if recalling them from far off days. ‘Oh, they’re well. And back at school again, thank goodness. They’ll be home very soon, I expect. And what of your own endeavours for a child, Henzey? Any luck yet?’
Henzey blushed under Eunice’s scrutinising eyes. ‘It’s early days but I think there might be a chance,’ she admitted.
‘Then if it is early days, forgive me if I don’t congratulate you, my dear. It might be premature to do so. Where is that woman with the tea?’
‘Actually, I am fairly sure…’
‘Fairly sure? The only one I was sure about, Henzey, almost from the moment I conceived her, was Kitty. She was a mistake. A dreadful mistake.’
At that moment Lilian entered the room carrying a tray. She set it down on an occasional table before them and left. Eunice lifted the lid of the pot and gave the contents a stir.
‘But you love her?’ Henzey prompted.
‘I love her with all my heart. Frederic loves her…And even Neville loves her, in his way…’ The comment begged Henzey’s next question.
‘I don’t understand, Eunice. Why should Neville not love her?’
‘Because quite frankly, my dear, Kitty is not Neville’s daughter.’
Henzey gasped. ‘Not Neville’s daughter?’ Of course, Kitty must be the daughter of that Harris Channon. Yet somehow, Henzey had the distinct impression that the affair with him had ended long before Kitty was even conceived. Henzey wondered whether she should be frank and admit that Neville had told her all about him. She decided, however, to admit nothing.
‘I’m surprised he hasn’t told you, of all people, Henzey,’ Eunice said knowingly. ‘And yet, maybe it wouldn’t suit his purpose to do so.’
‘Tell me what, Eunice?’
‘Quite frankly, my dear, I hesitate to say because I fear that all I shall gain from you will be contempt. And I do so want your respect…No. More than that, Henzey, I would value your kinship and your friendship. I don’t want to jeopardise either.’
‘I’m sure it wouldn’t come to that, Eunice,’ Henzey urged. Perhaps it was time to suggest she’d had a vague idea that Eunice had had an affair. ‘We all make mistakes, don’t we? I mean, if you’ve had an affair…Who am I to judge?’
‘Two affairs, actually. But they happened a while ago, when I was fit and well. The first time I was a fool, Henzey. The second time I was an even a bigger fool. Looking back, I think I was rather a slut.’
Henzey tried to shrug off the flush that was reddening her cheeks. ‘Oh, Eunice, don’t say such things about yourself.’
‘Well I must have been a bigger slut than any woman living. I had a happy marriage once; a husband who would have died for me. But one man was not enough. I wanted to know what it would be like to lie with other men – to be really depraved – to do things you would never demean yourself to do with a loving husband, nor indeed expect him to do. I did it all with the first affair. He was as depraved as me and I was addicted to him. He wanted me to leave Neville, get divorced and marry him. I didn’t realise he was after my money until he discovered I’d used it all bailing out Worthington Commercials. He was off quicker than a gunshot.
‘Naturally enough, that affair ruined my marriage. Neville tried to warn me that I was being a fool, to give him up before it was too late. But of course, I knew better. My marriage counted for nothing in my eyes. Oh, there’s nothing more sad nor more illogical than a woman who’s obsessed. Maybe you know that already, Henzey.’
‘I’ll pour, if you like, Eunice. Milk and sugar?’
‘Please. The second affair was different. It was just after the Wall Street Crash and I knew that the man was desperately seeking wealth to replace what he’d lost in the Crash. He was an upstart and, if he could have lured me away, he would have done, I believe. But I just strung him along for the hell of it. He was younger than me, handsome…very handsome in fact. I enjoyed his bedding me, but this time I was in control – or I thought I was – till I realised he’d deliberately made me pregnant to secure me and the money he thought I’d got…Does that sound a familiar story, Henzey?’
Henzey stopped what she was doing with some consternation and looked into Eunice’s eyes. They seemed honest, vulnerable, and her expression was one of anxiety; lest she should alienate Henzey, perhaps. But Henzey was not certain what familiar story Eunice was referring to, so she merely gave a quizzical look.
‘You see, Henzey,’ she continued, ‘that second man was your old friend, Billy Witts.’
Henzey almost dropped the milk jug. She replaced it on the tray, trembling, and tried to collect her thoughts. ‘Billy Witts? But…You’re saying that Billy Witts is Kitty’s father?’
‘Just so…Kin to no Worthington, I admit. So…now you can see just how much of a fool I’ve been. Consider yourself very fortunate, Henzey, my dear, that you were no greater victim of Billy Witts. You were well rid of him.’
‘But, Eunice, he did the same to Nellie Dewsbury and married her.’
‘I know. A double indemnity, what? As I said, Henzey, a familiar story.’
‘I’m absolutely flabbergasted. How did you start seeing him?’
‘The first time I met him he was with you. We all had dinner together, you remember? I recall now how Neville was very taken with you. Anyway, while you and he talked, Billy was showing an interest in me and, frankly, I was flattered. Some time afterwards he telephoned me and we arranged to meet. By this time there was no possibility of a full reconciliation with Neville, though of course, we continued to live together. So I thought, what the hell? Billy and I very quickly became lovers…Oh, I apologise unreservedly, Henzey, for being responsible for him two-timing you.’
‘Good God, Eunice. He wasn’t just two-timing. I thought after that he was only two-timing me with Nellie Dewsbury. It appears he was three-timing all of us.’ She laughed, aware that the passing of time had enabled her to laugh about him. It was actually quite funny now. What a pathetic cad he was.
Eunice laughed, too, feeling a growing affinity with her sister-in-law. ‘So there, I’ve made a clean breast of it. I needed to tell you, and your passing by this afternoon has afforded me the perfect opportunity. If I’ve ruined our friendship it was a risk I had to take. But I hope I have not. At least, I don’t think I have.’
‘Oh, Eunice, I admire you all the more for telling me. I think, if anything, it might bring us closer.’
‘I do hope so. But learn by it, Henzey. If you ever find yourself in a similar position – carrying another man’s child – never confess it. Never.
’
Henzey was startled again by Eunice’s words but tried to show no outward change in her expression. It was almost as if the woman knew of her predicament.
‘I confessed mine to Neville,’ she went on. ‘But I had to. You see, Neville and I had had no marital relations since the start of my first affair. And while he was supportive to a degree – he had to be, really, on account of the money and my standing in the firm – he bitterly resented it. And I think deep down he resents Kitty, though he tries to play the affectionate father. After all, the child is not to be blamed. If he could have killed Billy Witts, I think he would have gladly done so.’
‘At the time, Eunice, Neville would have had to have joined the queue. My mother would have been first in it, I can tell you.’
‘I look forward to meeting your mother some time, Henzey. But please – what I’ve told you is in strict confidence. I’d appreciate you not breathing a word of it to Will.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Eunice. What he’s not told he won’t grieve about.’
Chapter 27
Neville’s seaside cottage was idyllic. Henzey and Will arrived at Bognor Regis during the early afternoon of Saturday and took a taxi to the cottage, which overlooked the English Channel at Middleton-on-Sea. As Will paid the driver and sought the key from his pocket, Henzey stood and peered beyond the cottage at the grey sea, a vast sheet of steel with white, rippled edges. She might even be able to find time to paint some watercolours. She had attempted no seascapes before and relished the challenge, spurred by the sight of a yacht, regaled with a tall, white sail, rocking to and fro as it tacked against the afternoon onshore wind.
The cottage was a modern three bedroom affair, rendered white on the outside and with a hipped roof. There was a bathroom, a fine kitchen and a garage that housed a small motor launch on a trailer. Yes, there was a boat, as Neville had promised, but without a car to tow the trailer to the sea they would be unable to use it; an easy oversight on his part. In the hallway, a telephone was installed; essential for Neville, who would no doubt get business calls even when taking a holiday there.
