by Connie Monk
‘Before you go, don’t forget to help Dad with his shoes,’ she whispered quite unnecessarily as Harold was downstairs leaning over Alicia’s pram, chattering to her and trying to be the one to have her first smile.
‘You can do that,’ Leo answered, puzzled by the request.
‘No, please, you help him. He didn’t know I heard so let him think no one noticed except you. He’d be embarrassed.’
Leo put his finger under her chin and tipped her face towards his. ‘You really are a very nice person, Bella Carter.’
Did she imagine it or did the colour really rush to her face as she stood quite still with her lips parted? Of course, he read the invitation and accepted it. His mind was running away with him. Ever since he had brought her home with a one-day-old baby she and Alicia had shared the room next to his. She had said that with three-hourly feeds she would worry that he was being disturbed. So did she imagine he slept contentedly all night? How could she feel Alicia’s sweet mouth pulling at her breast and not be aroused, as aroused as he was as he lay there imagining?
She moved slightly away from him but he pulled her close, his hand moving under her jumper to hold the firm fullness of her swollen breast.
‘Careful, darling Leo. It’s nearly time for baby’s feed; you mustn’t do that to me or it’ll leak.’
He withdrew his hand, his sudden ardour banished by her matter-of-fact tone. To fondle her full breast, to imagine the blood-warm milk trickling on to his fingers had brought him almost to the point of losing control, yet her voice had the effect of dousing him with cold water again. Letting go of her he turned away, but she appeared to think he was simply seeing the wisdom of her warning.
‘You will remember to help Dad?’ she whispered.
‘Of course.’
‘Thanks. What time are you meeting … whoever it is?’
‘Not for ages. But I shall go as soon as I’m ready. I prefer to be early.’
In fact, he needn’t have left home for another hour, something that had been in his mind as he had made such an ineffectual effort to excite Bella.
Breakfast only just over and a day waiting to be lived, he knew this was no time to give in to the way his thoughts were turning. All he really needed was for her to let him know that her imagination had carried her on a journey similar to his. But this was Bella, sweet, affectionate but with a mind that never strayed away from the routine of her day. Not for a second would she have suspected that his caress had been more than an affirmation of pleasure that she had followed him to the bedroom that, until Alicia’s birth, they had shared.
‘I’d better go down,’ she said. ‘I told Dad not to pick Alicia up, but you know how he loves to hold her when I pass her to him. He’s really much better here, isn’t he? And he even understands now that it’s Louisa at The Retreat when we go there, not their old friend. You know what I was thinking, Leo? I was thinking that when I go into the village this morning I would take him and we’d call and see Louisa on the way. If I had a whisper to her I’m sure she would agree for him to sit and talk to her while Alicia and I do the shopping. Don’t you think that would be extra good for him?’
‘I’m in good time; I’ll stop off as I pass and ask her if she’ll be the one to suggest it. If she doesn’t say anything, you’ll know she isn’t in favour.’
‘Do you mind? That would be so much easier than having to engineer a chance to whisper to her. And I’m sure he’s ready. It’s not good for him to feel we’re always watching him. Come and say goodbye before you go.’
After he’d heard her footsteps running down the stairs he sat on the edge of the unmade bed. Was it having the baby that had changed her? She had found a new confidence and surely he should be glad. Yet he felt excluded. The girl she had been a year ago had been overtaken by an adoring young mother, a kind and thoughtful daughter-in-law, the mistress of this old barn of a house – but where was the wife whose love for him had been there in her every expression, her pride in him for all the world to see? It used to irritate him; it used to put him in mind of an adolescent with a crush on a film star. One of his many pre-marriage liaisons had been with a war widow and he remembered going into her fourteen-year-old daughter’s bedroom one evening to change an electric light bulb and seeing pictures attached to the wall with drawing pins: Clark Gable, Gary Cooper and Fred Astaire. The very young have but a limited image of love, an image based on glamour and happy endings. But life wasn’t like that. He had told himself that he would never fail Bella, and neither would he. But with the arrival of Alicia he no longer felt he played the most vital role in her life. Surely he ought to be relieved. He had never loved her as he believed a man should love his wife, so what better than that she filled her life without being entirely dependent on him? Soon she would move back into their shared bedroom, and she would be there for him if not with any fire of passion then at least with generosity and tenderness. For God’s sake, think about something else, man – you’ve got a meeting that David says is important in a couple of hours and a thirty-mile drive before then, so collect the drawings and get going.
First, though, he had promised to call on Louisa.
As usual he walked round to the back door and went straight into the kitchen unannounced where, to his surprise, he found her sitting at the wooden table with the coffee maker in front of her, idly watching as the dark liquid hissed down the funnel to the bowl below. The room was filled with that magic aroma: freshly percolated coffee and mentholated spirit from the lamp that heated it. But it wasn’t the tempting smell that took his attention – it was the sight of Louisa. Half past nine in the morning and she was without make-up and wearing a dark green velvet housecoat – like so much else, previously belonging to Violet.
‘Don’t tell me you were driving by and happened to smell the coffee?’ she greeted him, forcing a laugh.
‘I wouldn’t dream of lying to you at this hour of day. I bring a message from Bella.’ And so he put forward the suggestion. ‘She thought it would be a stride on Dad’s journey of getting used to seeing you here – probably the first time he’d been alone with you barring the night he caused such a rumpus. I honestly think she has brought him here sufficient times since then to know you are not his Violet and that this place belongs to you. But if you feel uncomfortable about it, then when Bella says she has to go to the shops just say nothing and she will know you don’t want him here on his own. It may be a useless idea anyway. His mind wanders.’ She understood more than those last simple words told her and saw Leo’s helplessness that he could do nothing to bring back the man he had always known. Giving help in the only way she could think of, she took another cup and saucer and poured him his favourite strong, black coffee. Immediately the mask of cheerfulness (if, indeed, it was a mask) was back in place. ‘That’s my girl,’ he said, his eye half closing in a hint of a wink, ‘I knew you wouldn’t turn me out into the morning air without sharing your nectar of the gods. No one brews coffee like you do.’
‘Perhaps you should widen your visiting circle, then you might find they do.’ She took the cigarette he offered and waited while he lit it, only then seeing herself as he must be seeing her – sitting around in a dressing gown, smoking instead of eating breakfast. What sort of a slattern must he think her? She was conscious that under the dressing gown she was naked; she imagined he must be aware of it too. And without her daily armour of make-up she felt vulnerable. ‘I don’t usually breakfast before I dress,’ she told him, and then wished she hadn’t drawn attention to her state of undress.
‘Sometimes one should break with routine or life gets tedious.’
‘There’s something comforting about habit,’ she retorted. ‘I don’t like lounging.’
He smiled, his eyes shining with merriment. ‘You ought to try it more often. I promise you, it grows on you.’
She opened her mouth to speak, intending to knock him off his perch, but then realized that he wasn’t serious.
‘From one who knows?’
‘From one who believes there is a time to work and a time to play – even a time just to lounge. I’m glad Bella asked me to call in – quite apart from the coffee and ciggy. If I’d driven straight past the house I shouldn’t have seen you this morning, no make-up to hide behind, just as nature made you. And you know what? Louisa Harding, you are a very lovely woman.’ There was no teasing note in his voice as he made the statement. She felt horribly gauche and uncomfortable, unfamiliar with compliments as she was. She could think of no light remark that would turn the subject. Instead she took a drink of coffee in an attempt to hide her confusion. But she swallowed it the wrong way and it made her choke. Coughing, spluttering, fighting for breath, she wanted him gone so that she could be alone as she coughed from the depth of her being. Her eyes were running; her nose was running.
He fetched a glass of tap water and held it to her. ‘See if this helps.’
Her hands were shaking as she took the glass so, although she gripped it herself, he still held on to it as she drank. It did help but, even though she no longer coughed uncontrollably, her quick, short breath caught in her throat and she was embarrassed as she tried to clear the air passage, at the same time digging in her pocket to find a handkerchief to mop her face.
Watching her, he was aware of a strange sensation. He couldn’t put a name to it, nor yet could he recognize what prompted it. For a second his mind jumped back to the night he had first held Alicia, and yet what he felt now was very different. The similarity was in his inability to control his own emotion. And just as had happened on that night with Alicia, so now he felt the sting of tears, tears that wouldn’t fall but would make this a moment to be remembered. How could she not be aware of it? But clearly she wasn’t, as she blew her nose in an attempt to restore herself and draw a line under the unfortunate episode.
‘Better?’ he asked gently.
She nodded. ‘Can’t think what I did,’ she gasped, still not quite in control of her voice and panting as though she had run a race. ‘Sorry. What an exhibition. Thanks for the water.’
‘My pleasure, m’am. And now I must prove to you that I am indeed part of the working community. I have to get to Ludlow. Nice morning for a drive. Pity you’re not dressed, or you could have come too.’
‘You forget, I’m expecting your family this morning.’ She made sure her reply was in a tone as light as his, despite the fact that her heart was still pounding, so that he would know she hadn’t taken his remark seriously.
Just for a second he hesitated, as if loath to leave, and then he said with a hint of anxiety in his voice, ‘You’re sure you’re better?’
‘Completely.’ And with that one word she drew a line under the last moments, even though she knew they would haunt her in the wee small hours, bringing both comfort and shame. Bella was her friend – good, sweet Bella, who hadn’t a selfish thought in her head.
As she listened to the sound of his car drawing away she stared unseeingly at where, a minute before, he had been. It was as if he had left an imprint behind. She recalled his words, the tone of his voice, the sudden merriment in his eyes, as if he were still with her. Then, realizing where she was allowing her thoughts to stray, she pulled herself together, took their cups to the sink and went upstairs to run her bath and start the morning afresh.
Tiny babies were out of Louisa’s field of experience, but there was something enchanting about Alicia. But then Louisa only saw her when she had been fed and watered and was snug in her pram. In the eyes of the world the baby might have been no more advanced than her peers and, perhaps, no more beautiful; but to Bella she was the most precious thing on earth and, as for Leo, he sometimes wondered at his sanity as he bent over her pram or cot when she’d been put down to sleep and, alone with her, talked softly to her as he never had to any living soul. So her parents both loved her deeply, deeply and separately. Neither thought of her as ‘our baby’ – to each she was ‘my little girl’. Of course, it wasn’t just her parents who loved her; at the farm she was never without someone or other stopping to play with her. Harold adored her and if there was one way of being certain where he was it was to ask him to keep an eye on her, for him keeping an eye meant to be within six foot of his charge. He nursed her, he sang nursery rhymes to her and as soon as she could sit up, one of their favourite games was for him to bounce her on his knee singing ‘Ride a Cock Horse’ while she chuckled with delight.
Bella was utterly content. Alicia was the hub on which her wheel of life turned, but there was so much more. She took it for granted that she adored Leo – of course she did – and really she found him much easier than she had in the first months of their marriage. As Alicia started to sleep longer at night there was no need to be on hand for three hourly or even four hourly feeds. By the time the baby was almost six months old she woke at about eleven or midnight, half-heartedly took her mother’s breast and then slept until six in the morning or after. With all the excitement and trepidation of an innocent young bride, Bella told Leo she was ready to go back to their original sleeping arrangements.
He raised his eyebrows and looked at her teasingly.
‘If you want me, I mean,’ she said, some of her confidence deserting her. For over the last few months their relationship had been so different that they might have been friendly and caring siblings. She felt uncomfortably shy, as if she were forcing herself on him. After all, they’d become used to the arrangement of separate rooms. It had worked very well and he hadn’t pressed her to come back to him.
‘Is that all right, darling, or do you prefer having the room to yourself?’
He sensed her embarrassment. ‘Sweet Bella, I look forward to sharing my lonely bed with you.’ Reassured, she nuzzled against his shoulder.
‘It’ll be lovely to cuddle up together,’ she said, contentment in every word. For through those months since their return to the farm she had been utterly happy in her role. The old and rambling house had to be kept clean and tidy, the meals had to be cooked and cleared away, the baby had to be cared for and Harold, even in his home surroundings, had to be watched to make sure he wasn’t doing anything dangerous. Now, with her return to her wifely role, she felt her cup of happiness was full to the brim. Secretly she hoped that darling Leo would be content just to snuggle down to sleep most nights, although if he moved towards her she would never refuse him. But she had a romantic notion that lovemaking should be reserved for moments of high emotional devotion, with the light off and the act of union almost like a religious benediction, taken in silence and deep peace. In any case, while she was still nursing the baby she didn’t feel it was right for him to want to touch a part of her body that belonged just to Alicia and herself.
He honestly tried not to overstep her limits, but he was not a man to set one or even two nights a week aside for permitted sex and be content to ‘snuggle up’ for the rest. Had she no natural sex drive? Her dutiful availability had the effect on him of finding her nearness less than alluring. Lying with his back to her as if settled for the night, he had no control over his wayward thoughts. Was this how it had been for his father? Had he been haunted by thoughts of the woman in the house at the end of the lane, so near and yet so impossibly distant? But for his father the situation had been different – he had brought Violet to The Retreat – and, for him, it had indeed been a retreat. Leo’s thoughts turned to them more and more, remembering how as an adolescent he had loved going to the house, sometimes when Violet was alone and sometimes when his father was there too. He remembered the atmosphere he always knew he would find there. Even now, after so many years, he recalled how during school holidays he used to escape there from the many jobs waiting in the fields or packing sheds, and how pleased with himself he had felt when he decided to call The Retreat a stress-free zone. But that was more than a quarter of a century ago. What about now? It was not stress that made him take every opportunity to go there. Sometimes his visit would be no more than a few minutes but he found it impossible to pass the house
.
Was he a fool to let Louisa have such a hold over his thoughts? She was invariably friendly, happy to sit an hour discussing topics of interest from the news … the latest thoughts on the suspected damage done to the ozone layer, whether it was caused by testing the atomic bomb or the increase in jet aircraft; the latest budget and the recovery of the business world – the country seemed full of hope in this new Elizabethan Age, and in his mind he saw Louisa as the epitome of all that entailed. She was intelligent, confident, independent – a self-sufficient woman. Little did he suspect there was a side to her that she kept hidden from the world.
Of the three of them, Louisa, Bella and Leo, the most contented was Bella. For the first time in her life she knew she had an essential purpose.
There were various occasions when Harold’s worsening mental state became obvious, but Bella always tried to cover his failings and boost his flagging confidence. One such occasion was a cold March morning when Alicia was hardly more than six months old. Upstairs tidying the bedrooms, with one eye on Alicia, who was at the crawling stage, Bella had no idea that Harold had decided he would light the fire in the sitting room, even though it wasn’t usually lit until the afternoon.
The first she knew that something was wrong was when he called out to her. ‘You’d better come down, Bella, I need some help!’ he shouted from the bottom of the stairs, and from his voice she knew he needed it quickly.
