Walking Back to Happiness

by Anne Bennett

  ‘I think he was hurt more than angry.’

  ‘Hurt?’

  ‘Angela, he’s spent ages planning that room, buying things for it, making it nice,’ Hannah said. ‘You seemed very ungrateful. I mean, I never heard the words “thank you” pass your lips.’

  ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Oh, yes I do,’ Hannah snapped. ‘I don’t have to visit your school or go out with your friends to know how people of that class are. Before I worked for Gloria, I worked in a large hotel and served people like that all the time. Your father is trying to make you into something that you’re not. You are, to coin a phrase, like a fish out of water, not one thing or the other. But you’ll just have to cope with it, Angela, because your father will never leave here – he can’t afford to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You don’t understand finance, Angela, and why should you at your age?’ Hannah said. ‘But I’ll just say this house is paid for and because of it your father can afford your school fees and to treat you at the weekends, to buy you nice presents and pretty clothes and give you a generous amount of pocket money. He probably couldn’t afford to if we moved.’

  ‘So we’re stuck here?’

  ‘Yes we are, you little snob,’ Hannah burst out angrily. ‘And whatever you think, it’s a fine house. God, Angela, if you want real slums, I can show them to you. They’re teeming all over Birmingham. Maybe such a visit would make you thankful for what you have.’

  ‘Why is everyone so horrid to me tonight?’ Angela said plaintively. ‘It makes me wish I’d never come home.’

  ‘Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself,’ Hannah said hardheartedly. ‘Come on, I’ll fill a hot-water bottle and you cut along to bed. Things often look better in the morning.’

  But nothing could make Hannah feel better when she eventually was able to pin Arthur down about the things he’d said to the Banks. It was just three days after Angela had come home and an uneasy truce lay between Arthur and Angela and Hannah knew it was not a good time, but it was the only time there was since Angela had been taken to Josie’s to spend an evening with them.

  ‘Yes I told the Banks you had bad nerves,’ Arthur said when Hannah questioned him. ‘What of it?’

  ‘But … but, Arthur, you can’t go around just saying what you like about people,’ Hannah protested. ‘Things that aren’t even true! Surely you can see that?’

  ‘Rather that than say my wife is a whore and a harlot and I can’t stand to be seen with her in public.’

  Before Vic, before Hannah’s moral slip in not only allowing Vic to make love to her, but actively encouraging him to do so, this statement would have brought a strident denial of these claims from her lips. But this time she hesitated, not totally innocent now, and Arthur noticed the hesitation and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  Hannah tried another tack. ‘Elizabeth also told me that you’d booked us into a hotel for Christmas,’ she said. ‘I wish you’d said or asked. You know Josie and Phil are coming to dinner on Boxing Day.’

  ‘My dear, you are going nowhere,’ Arthur said. ‘I’ve booked the hotel for Angela and myself only. We go on Christmas Eve and return the day after Boxing Day. These arrangements should not affect your plans in any way.’

  Hannah leapt to her feet. ‘Arthur, this is monstrous! Inhuman! You cannot separate me from my child on Christmas Day!’

  ‘I can do whatever the hell I like,’ Arthur said. ‘Angela will jump at the opportunity, you’ll see. To spend Christmas in a plush hotel is far better than at home. It will be something to boast of to those posh friends of hers that she is so anxious to impress.’

  Hannah knew Arthur was right. Given the choice, she knew what Angela would say.

  But the point was, it left her out on a limb. Determined that this Christmas she’d make a concerted effort to save her marriage, she’d not demurred at all when Josie had suggested that she and Phil spend Christmas Day with Phil’s parents and Boxing Day with her, Arthur and Angela. Should she now say she’d changed her mind and please would they come and chase the loneliness of the day away for her? Surely Phil’s parents would understand? After all, he had another brother and a sister.

  However, she couldn’t do that. Her pride, if nothing else, wouldn’t let her. Pauline, then: could she muscle in on the festivities she was sharing with her sister, or should she throw herself on the mercy of Elizabeth Banks and tell her what a vindictive and vicious sod her husband was?

  She knew none of these courses were open to her. She continued to cook mince pies, ice the cake, pour brandy over the puddings, wrap presents and write cards, but her heart was as heavy as lead.

  She told no one she’d be alone that day. When Angela had asked, she said Gloria was so ill she’d decided to spend the day with her, but was warmed by Angela’s concern. Angela had seen Gloria by then and been shocked by her appearance and accepted Hannah’s explanation.

  But no way would Hannah impose on the quiet Christmas that Amy and Tom planned to spend with Gloria. She now tired easily and it was highly unlikely she’d last the day out and Hannah felt she couldn’t push her way in there, using Gloria’s illness an excuse to cover up her own loneliness.

  You are a grown woman, she told herself sternly. You have a beautiful home decorated for the festive season, cupboards full of food and drink, a warm hearth and a television for company and you will spend the day alone like many more and not moan about it either.

  Hannah stuck it out as long as she could before she rang Vic. She’d tried hard. After she waved a tearful goodbye to Angela, she’d got herself ready for Midnight Mass, calling in first on Amy and Tom, now installed in Gloria’s house to be on hand for her over the festive period where there would be fewer visits from district nurses. But she didn’t see Gloria who’d already gone to bed.

  ‘Tucked up snug as a bug in a rug she is now,’ Amy said. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll see she gets your presents in the morning.’

  ‘I could call in.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Amy said. ‘She wouldn’t expect that, not when you have a family to see to. We’ll just have a quiet Christmas on our own. Really it’s all she’s fit for just now.’

  Even Midnight Mass didn’t soothe her battered soul that night and she strolled back through the quiet city streets with a cold, depressing drizzle seeping into her coat. At home, the silence hit her and the decorated house and tree and smell of seasonal food seemed to mock her. What was the point of cooking that lovely turkey she’d got from the butcher for herself alone? Well, she wouldn’t, she decided, she didn’t care what she ate. Christmas for her was cancelled that year.

  But at eleven o’clock Christmas morning, Hannah phoned Vic. She knew he was on call, that much he’d told her so she knew she’d be able to contact him, but she didn’t know if he’d made any further plans. She’d deliberately not asked him about Christmas, in case he should question her, but she didn’t care about any of that now. She needed to hear a friendly voice.

  Vic, not thinking Hannah would call, was brisk and professional at first, until he recognised her voice and then he assumed something was wrong with her, or Arthur, or Angela.

  ‘No, no,’ Hannah said. ‘They’re not here, none of them. That’s the point.’

  ‘What is?’

  Hannah began to explain, telling Vic how Arthur had booked himself into a hotel, but her voice broke in the telling.

  But she’d said enough. ‘Do you mean you’re there in the house all alone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You poor love,’ Vic said and the sympathy in his voice caused tears to run down Hannah’s cheeks. ‘And what a swine your husband is.’

  There was silence on the other end of the phone and Vic said, ‘Are you crying?’

  Hannah made an effort to control herself. ‘A bit,’ she admitted.

  ‘Hannah, what do you want of me?’

  ‘I need you, Vic. I didn’t realise how much. Will you come?’

  Vic paused. ‘
Do you know what you’re saying, Hannah?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I know. Will you come?’

  ‘I’ll come and fetch you,’ Vic said. ‘But I must stay here because of the phone.’

  ‘You had no plans at all?’

  ‘None,’ Vic said and elected not to tell her of the Christmas tea he was supposed to be taking with his family and the two emergency numbers printed outside the surgery that he would remove before collecting her.

  He’d phone his parents, he knew they’d understand. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d missed a family celebration. ‘You wouldn’t believe so many people were ill at Christmas,’ his mother had remarked one year.

  ‘I don’t think they do it on purpose, Mother,’ Vic had said with a laugh.

  ‘No, I know that, but you know what I mean.’

  And of course he knew what she meant. Vic’s parents were immensely proud of their doctor son and not a word of censure would ever pass their lips about any area of his work. In a way, Vic felt bad that he was exploiting this aspect and yet for Hannah he knew he would put his whole life in jeopardy. ‘Are you quite sure this is what you want?’ Vic asked anxiously when they got back to his house and Hannah took off her coat and hung it up in the hall.

  Hannah thought back to Arthur telling everyone she was suffering from ‘nerves’ and then taking Angela away to a hotel for Christmas without her and said she was totally sure and she’d held Vic’s hand tight and led the way up the stairs.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The following morning, Boxing Day, Hannah expected to be filled with shame, but instead she felt as if she was alive with joy as Vic drove her home. Josie, visiting later that afternoon with Phil, was puzzled about Hannah’s evident happiness, especially after she was told what Arthur had done. ‘Were you by yourself all day?’ she asked.

  Hannah didn’t answer directly. ‘It was all right,’ she said. ‘I had plenty to do.’

  Her face flushed slightly as she remembered the hours spent in Vic’s arms, the gentle lovemaking in his bed that left her lifted to heights of exquisite joy so that she cried out over and over and afterwards fell asleep in blissful contentment. She wished she could tell Josie all about it and might have done if Phil hadn’t been with her.

  Once she would have poured her heart out to Gloria, but that avenue too was closed to her. She would write to Tilly. She wouldn’t be shocked, or even surprised. She’d almost been waiting for something like this to happen.

  But all that was for later. Today was for Josie and Phil. She cooked the turkey and brought out the best tablecloth, crystal glasses and a cracker beside each plate. ‘I didn’t bother for myself yesterday,’ Hannah said, although she’d had a fairly festive meal with Vic. That had been thanks primarily to his mother, who’d brought her son a cooked chicken on Christmas Eve to ensure he didn’t starve to death entirely. She wished he had a nice wife to look after him and said so often, but he seemed to take no interest in any girl his mother introduced him to.

  Hannah made a more than decent meal for the pair of them, which Vic, used to scratch meals for himself, was quick to praise. Nothing marred the perfection of the first day and night they spent together, not even the two house calls he had to make which were, he said, mainly due to overindulgence.

  ‘You did right,’ Josie said. ‘Let’s pretend today is Christmas Day and yesterday never happened.’

  Ah, as if that could be. Hannah recalled every detail of it, the delicious comfort of being held in a loved one’s arms. She remembered every inch of Vic’s face, the brown hair that refused to be slicked back and insisted on falling over his forehead, his deep brown eyes which crinkled with laughter, his chiselled nose and his wide, generous and very kissable mouth. She loved his smile, his sense of humour, even his smell, so essentially male, and his touch sent her wild.

  She didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as she loved Vic; so much that she longed to be with him, even as she sat at the table with her beloved Josie and Phil. But she forced herself to be still and listen to their plans for the future. But even as she sat and discussed names for the baby, due in the spring, her mind was on Vic and the flat, their lovenest above the surgery.

  ‘Did you think Hannah a bit odd tonight?’ Josie asked Phil as they drove home in the car Phil had bought as soon as he realised he was to become a father.

  ‘Hmm. Maybe,’ he replied. ‘Can’t wonder at it really. On her own at Christmas while her husband and daughter are elsewhere. Funny do whichever way you look at it.’

  ‘I wish she’d leave him,’ Josie said vehemently. ‘Living on her own would be better than living with him. He enjoys tormenting her.’

  Phil glanced at her. ‘Why does he? Why did he marry if he felt like that?’

  ‘He didn’t dislike her at first,’ Josie explained, ‘that came later, though he was never what I’d term “warm” towards her. I didn’t want her to marry him in the first place. In a way, she did it for me, to provide us both with a home. I know sometimes it’s been hell on earth for her.’

  ‘But why?’ Phil asked and Josie told him from the beginning.

  ‘He punished her all her married life for that one slip,’ Josie said to Phil as she finished her tale. ‘But the worst punishment of all was keeping her and Angela apart, as far as he can, that is. Over the years, he’s caused her terrific pain.’

  ‘It’s incredible,’ Phil said. ‘As far as I’m concerned Hannah was just another victim of war.’

  ‘I agree,’ Josie said. ‘But that’s not how Arthur sees it and even Hannah is riven with guilt every so often.’

  Phil stopped the car and helped Josie out of it. ‘Don’t worry so much,’ he said at last when they were inside their own house and he was trying to coax life into the nearly-dead fire they’d left banked up with slack till their return. ‘After all, however Hannah sees herself, she wasn’t exactly unhappy or down today, was she?’

  ‘No,’ said Josie thoughtfully. ‘That’s what I found so strange. I would have expected her to be sad, even upset. Instead, it was as if she was lit up by some inner excitement.’

  Hannah couldn’t have put it better herself. Sometimes the happiness would bubble up inside her making her want to burst into song or skip around the house like a two-year-old. Arthur and Angela returned jubilant from their holiday and if either had expected Hannah to be depressed or short-tempered with them, they were disappointed. She greeted them both warmly, thrilled when Angela threw her arms around her and hugged her tight and said she’d enjoyed it all, but she wished Hannah could have come too.

  More and more, as Angela grew up, she’d found the situation between her parents odd, especially when she compared with other girls’ – not that she ever discussed personal matters. Many of the girls, nearing adolescence, had also drawn closer to their mothers and Angela often felt left out. She hardly knew Hannah. Yet there were things that she’d love to tell her about that she could never discuss with her father.

  She’d once asked her father on a weekend visit if he could bring her mother along the next week, partly because she wanted to see her and partly because her friends thought it odd that she never came. But her words drove Arthur into a monumental rage and he’d then sulked for the entire weekend and didn’t visit at all the next one.

  She wouldn’t risk that reaction again by mentioning her mother’s name, but for all that, she was glad that she didn’t seem at all upset by them leaving her all alone at Christmas time.

  Josie wanted Hannah and Angela to spend New Year with her, but both refused. Angela had a letter waiting for her when she returned from the hotel inviting her to spend the rest of the holiday, including New Year’s Eve, with a girl called Hillary Masters. She lived on the outskirts of York in one of the houses Angela had told her father about when she came home. Hillary’s house stood in its own grounds, with access to a private lake, which her father took his yacht out on. Hillary and her brothers had their own ponies and Hillary had promised to teach Angela to r
ide. In the letter she said she was longing to see Angela again and Angela herself was wild to go.

  Arthur was displeased with the letter and would have liked to have forbidden her to go, but he’d refused her little in her life and anyway didn’t think he could cope with the tantrums and sulks if he was to put his foot down. Much to Angela’s surprise, her mother seemed to know just how she felt and urged her daughter to go if she wanted to and to phone straight away and make arrangements.

  Hannah felt a little guilty that she was encouraging Angela to do this in order that she could spend time with Vic. But Angela wasn’t aware of this and was heartened by her mother’s encouragement. Her father seemed to want her with him all the time and much as she loved him, she was changing as she grew older and sometimes wanted to meet with people her own age.

  In actual fact, Hannah was dying to return to work, which she did the day after Angela left for York. She was longing to see Vic again. To hear his voice. To be near to him. And he so obviously felt the same, for barely was she through the front door than Vic had her in his arms. ‘Oh, my darling. My darling. I have ached for you the last few days.’

  The kiss was ardent and Hannah felt her senses reeling as she realised that the love she had for Vic was even deeper and stronger than the love she’d had for Mike Murphy. She’d loved him in the careworn days of Britain at war, when time was precious, to be snatched at and enjoyed, for any moment might be one’s last.

  Their love for each other had been new and tender, an awakening of emotions. But it was passionate too and they cared for one another. Had Mike survived the war, Hannah thought that their love would probably have deepened through their life together, as they brought up young Michael and maybe brothers and sisters of his.

  But this feeling for Vic, that she’d denied and shied away from, was like an explosion inside her. Since the Christmas Day and night that they’d spent together, she’d known she’d never love another besides this man and if he was to walk out of her life, it wouldn’t be worth living.

  Hannah knew that Arthur would be out over the rest of the holiday. In fact, unless Angela was there, he was seldom in now and when he announced that he was off to Scotland for a couple of days over the New Year, she was delighted. Even later, when she found out it had been a company thing for those in the upper ranks of management to be put up in a Scottish hotel for Hogmanay and she’d been invited too, she didn’t care, for she knew she would be spending the time with Vic instead.