Act of Will (30 page)

‘I hope to God you’re right, Mike, I do that.’ Vincent pushed himself up off the park bench. ‘Well, there’s no point putting it off, I’d better get on home and tell her.’

‘I think you should.’ Mike rose and the two of them walked across the recreation grounds together.

‘Do you still want to go to the City Varieties on Saturday night?’

‘Of course I do!’ Vincent exclaimed. ‘I can see no reason to change our plans. Anyway, Audra and Laurette have been looking forward to going, I wouldn’t want them to be disappointed.’

‘Neither would I,’ Mike agreed.

***

The moment he strode into the cottage in Pot Lane, Vincent knew that something had happened—something special.

There was a record playing on the gramophone in the sitting room, filling the house with the strains of a Gilbert and Sullivan song from
The Mikado
. A vase of bronze and yellow autumnal chrysanthemums stood in the centre of the table, which had been covered with a lace cloth and laid for supper with their best china. He surveyed the table, wondering if someone had been invited, but saw at once that it was set only for two. Glancing around the parlour-kitchen with quickening interest, Vincent next noticed the bottle of red wine on the set-pot; then he sniffed. His mouth began to water as he recognized the faint aroma of his favourite lamb stew coming through the oven door, which was slightly ajar. Pursing his lips, he wondered what was afoot, his curiosity truly fired now.

He had just taken off his coat and cap and hung them in the closet when the staircase door opened and Audra stepped into the kitchen. She wore a pretty, delphinium-blue blouse that matched her eyes and a dark skirt—plus the biggest smile he had seen on her face in ages.

‘You look nice, love,’ he said, observing her appreciatively through his narrowed green gaze, half smiling as he spoke. He waved his hand around the room. ‘What are we celebrating then? Have you come into some sort of windfall?’

‘You might say we’ve had two windfalls, in a sense…’ She left her sentence dangling and ran to kiss his cheek. Then she stood away from him, gave him a queer, almost smug, smile and led him by the arm to the fireside. She took an envelope off the mantelpiece, waved it in front of his eyes. ‘First, there’s this! It’s a letter from that firm of solicitors in Ripon, you know, the ones who wrote to me in June to tell me that Great-Aunt Frances Reynolds had died and that she had left me something in her will. You thought it was going to be another piece of silver, or
that china teapot I admired, but it isn’t either. It’s
fifty pounds
, Vincent! Wasn’t that lovely of her?’

‘Aye, lass, it certainly was,’ he said with a grin, thinking that Audra’s little legacy could not have come at a more propitious time. He was about to say so, wanting to tell her that he had lost his job, get the unpleasant task over with, when she prevented this. She flung herself at him and hugged him so tightly he was taken aback.

But he hugged her in return, stared down into her face.

He saw that it was filled with laughter and her bright eyes were more brilliantly blue than ever: there was a radiance about her. ‘What is it, Audra? You look like the cat that’s swallowed the canary. Right chuffed with yourself, my girl, that’s what you are!’

‘Yes, I am, Vincent. I went to see Doctor Stalkley this morning and he’s confirmed it to me. I’m two months pregnant. We’re going to have a baby… next May.’

It seemed to Vincent that his heart did a tiny somersault of joy. He had been praying that she would get pregnant. Another child would fill the terrible void Alfie had left, and for both of them, not just her. His grief had been as acute as hers, and he still thought about his dead son with sorrow.

Vincent drew her closer, pressed her head against his chest, stroked the crown of her burnished head. ‘You couldn’t have told me anything better, love,’ he said. ‘I’ve been hoping to hear this for months, I really have. No wonder you’re chuffed… so am I.’

‘I thought you would be, Vincent.’

His response was to tighten his arms around her. And he decided not to spoil the special evening she had planned for them by giving her his bad news. He would tell her about Varley’s going bankrupt tomorrow. That was soon enough.

Unexpectedly, and much to his astonishment, he suddenly felt optimistic about finding a job. The baby was a lucky omen.

‘Oh, Audra, what a bonny little girl!’ Gwen cried, her face lighting up as she bent over the hospital bed to look at the new-born infant in Audra’s arms. ‘She’s just perfect.’

‘Thank you, Gwen, I think so, too, but then I’m her mother, so I suppose that’s natural.’ Audra smiled up at her friend, who had dropped in unexpectedly to visit her at St Mary’s Hospital, then turned her eyes to the bedside table. She let them rest on the lavish bouquet Gwen had placed there a moment before. ‘And thank you for the flowers, they’re lovely.’

‘Well, you always did like yellow roses, lovey. There’s also this…’ Gwen placed a package on the bed. ‘It’s for—’ She stopped, glanced at the baby and laughed. ‘You haven’t told me her name.’

‘Goodness, how stupid I am. We’re going to call her Christina. Do you like it?’

‘Oh I do, it’s ever such a pretty name.’ Seating herself on the chair next to the bed, Gwen leaned forward and touched the gift. ‘Shall I open this for you… and Christina?’

Audra laughed. ‘Please.’

‘I hope you like it,’ Gwen murmured as she untied the ribbon around the fancy box and took off the lid. She lifted out a shell-pink dress with deeper, rose-pink smocking
across the front, and held it up for Audra to see. ‘It’s silk and it’s handmade.’ She looked at Audra expectantly.

‘Oh Gwen, it’s exquisite and I love it! Christina will look so pretty in it, but you
are
extravagant.’ Audra reached out and squeezed Gwen’s hand.

Gwen beamed with pleasure. She leaned back in her chair and regarded Audra thoughtfully. ‘I must say, you do look well. Certainly a lot better than you did after you’d had Alfie—’ Her voice quavered as she said his name, and she stopped, chagrined. ‘Oh, I’m sorry…’

‘Don’t be so silly, Gwenny, we can’t avoid mentioning Alfie’s name occasionally, and it doesn’t upset me, truly it doesn’t.’ Audra smiled at her reassuringly. ‘I’ve recovered from his death now, in the sense that my grief
has
lessened. It’s not too painful any more. Of course, I shall never forget Alfie and I shall always love him, hold him dear in my heart. But there’s Christina now.’

Audra dropped her eyes to the child in her arms and smiled down at her, then glanced at Gwen. ‘I feel quite wonderful, really. It was an easy birth, just as it was an easy pregnancy. It’s odd, isn’t it, that I had such a bad time with Alfie. But I hardly knew I was carrying Christina and the delivery was over before I could blink—well, almost.’

Gwen nodded her stylishly-bobbed blonde head. ‘Yes, it often happens that way.’ She gazed out of the window almost absently, and a wistful expression flitted across her face. ‘You are lucky… I wish I could get pregnant.’

‘Oh you will, just give it time.’

‘
Time
!’ Gwen laughed softly. ‘It’s May 1931. I’ve been married exactly two years and one month.’ She gave a little shrug of her shoulders, added, ‘But then again, Geoffrey says I’m too anxious, too tense, and that I must relax about having a baby.’

‘Perhaps he’s correct, after all he is a doctor. And how is Geoffrey?’

‘Oh he’s all right.’ Gwen jumped up abruptly. ‘The nurses on this ward seem to be very careless in the execution of their duties. These roses will be half dead by the time one of them decides to bring a vase.’ She reached for the bunch of flowers. ‘I’ll put them in water… be back in a jiffy.’

Audra’s eyes followed Gwen as she walked up the ward. She had changed a lot in the last two years, as Audra had known she would.
He
had changed her… changed the way she dressed and spoke and walked and perhaps even the way she thought. And she had changed yet again since the last time they had met. There was definitely something odd about Gwen today, something that Audra could not quite put her finger on. They saw each other infrequently these days, since their friendship had continued to drift after their marriages. And so the slightest difference in Gwen was most apparent to Audra, the shrewd observer, when they did meet. It has to do with her appearance, Audra now thought, frowning. Was it her outfit? Certainly the black linen dress and jacket were rather dowdy, and stark with their lack of adornment. Also, the sombre colour drained the life from her face. But no, it was not her clothes. It was something else, something indefinable.

Puzzled, Audra let her eyes rest on Gwen as she marched back to the bed, carrying the vase of roses. And as she drew nearer, Audra knew, suddenly, what it was that was so different about her friend today.
All of the light in her eyes had died
. She’s no longer happy with him, Audra thought, if she ever was. That’s why she doesn’t want to talk about him, the reason she leapt up and rushed to put the roses in water. Oh poor Gwenny, she expected so much from this marriage, envisioned such a wonderful
life for herself with Geoffrey, and I bet it’s pure hell.

‘Thank you,’ Audra murmured when Gwen placed the vase on the night stand. She scrutinized her surreptitiously. Yes, there
was
a sadness behind those pretty pale blue eyes and a funny little droop to Gwen’s mouth which had not been there before.

Gwen interrupted her thoughts, when she announced, ‘I just want you to know that I gave that young nurse a good ticking off.’

‘I bet you did… you see how it is, Gwen, when you’re back on a ward you want to take charge… old habits die hard, don’t they?’

‘Yes, perhaps they do.’ Gwen sat down, went on, ‘Whilst we’re on the subject of nursing, are you going back to work for that woman in The Towers when you get out of hospital?’

‘You mean Mrs Jarvis… oh yes, I
promised
her, and I can’t let her down. She’s not at all well, and besides, we need the money.’

A sympathetic look flashed across Gwen’s face as she remarked, ‘It must be awful for you, lovey, Vincent
still
being out of work.’

‘Well, it’s worse for him, really,’ Audra said softly, eyeing Gwen carefully, detecting criticism in her tone. ‘The frustration of not being able to find a job is dreadful for him, as I’m sure you can appreciate. Vincent’s not a lay-about, or a lazy man, you know, and—’

‘I wasn’t suggesting anything like that!’ Gwen cried, flushing slightly.

Ignoring this comment, Audra continued speaking in an even voice, ‘He’s out again this afternoon, doing the rounds. He’s very responsible. He follows up on every lead.’

‘It must rankle with him a bit,’ Gwen murmured, ‘I
mean, he was always dead set against you going out to work.’

‘Yes, he was, and don’t think he’s changed his mind, because he hasn’t. However, that’s the way it has to be just now.’

‘Yes, I realize that, lovey. The last time we saw each other, in March I think it was, you told me that your William had written to suggest that you and Vincent join him in Australia. Didn’t that idea come to anything, then?’

‘No, it didn’t, and I never expected it would. Vincent might give lip service to the idea of emigrating, Gwen, but he wouldn’t leave England. He grumbles, of course, about the Depression, the present conditions, and he calls the Government and the politicians every nasty name he can think of, but he loves this country.’

Audra shook her head slowly. ‘No, he wouldn’t leave his mother and father and the rest of the family—they’re a very close knit family, you know, the Crowthers. And there was another reason—I didn’t really want to go myself. Of course, I’d love to see William and Frederick again, but I don’t think I’d want to live in Australia. Not any more. It’s
so
far away.’

Gwen grimaced. ‘Yes, I know what you mean, it does seem like the back of beyond.’ Waving her hand up and down in front of her face, Gwen now exclaimed, ‘Phew! It’s hot in here all of a sudden, but then it’s very warm for May, isn’t it?’ She slipped off her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. ‘Didn’t you tell me that your Frederick got engaged? Is he married yet?’

Audra did not respond.

Gwen looked at her curiously. ‘What’s the matter? Why are you staring at me like that?’

‘What on earth have you done to your arm?’ Audra
asked, unable to take her eyes off Gwen. The dress she was wearing was sleeveless, revealing an arm that was badly swollen and dark brown with fading bruises.

With a small, embarrassed laugh, Gwen said, ‘Doesn’t it look awful! I fell down the cellar steps the other day. Geoffrey was furious with me for being such a clumsy thing. We were going to a dance that night, and I wasn’t able to wear my new dress with cap sleeves and I paid such a lot for it in the Model Room at Harte’s. Geoffrey said I could have killed myself, and he was ever so cross that I was anywhere near the cellar steps to begin with.’ She laughed a little nervously.

‘I’m not surprised that he was angry, and you
could
have killed yourself. I remember thinking how steep the cellar steps were, when I first came to see the house. You must be more careful,’ Audra cautioned.

‘Yes, I know.’ Gwen stood up, appeared restless all of a sudden and strolled over to the window in the corner, looked out. After only a split second she stiffened, peered again through the glass, then swung to Audra. ‘Mike and Laurette are coming through the hospital gates with Vincent. I’d better be going.’

‘But they’d all love to see you and say hello to you.’

Gwen laughed awkwardly. ‘I don’t really want to see Mike, to tell you the truth.’

‘Oh, you’re being silly. Now that you’re both married there’s no reason for you to feel self-conscious.’

‘I know, but they’re your family and I’d only be in the way. And I really should be getting back to Headingley. I’ve things to do… we’re having another dinner party tonight, and that maid of mine bears watching.’

‘I wish you’d stay.’

Gwen shook her head with a faint smile. ‘No, I must be off.’ She lightly touched the top of Christina’s head,
bent to kiss Audra’s cheek. ‘Bye-bye, lovey, I’ll see you again soon.’