Act of Will (34 page)

‘How sweet he is, so thoughtful.’

Christina asked, ‘Will Auntie Maggie be looking after me when you go out on Saturday night?’

‘She will that, love.’

‘Oh goody, Dad. We have such fun and she always lets me stay up late.’

‘She does!’ Audra exclaimed.

‘It’s time for the strawberries, Mam, I’ll serve,’ Christina cried, jumping down off her chair. ‘And you get to get the most, ’cos it’s your birthday.’

‘Don’t be so silly,’ Audra demurred, ‘we’ll all have exactly the same amount, it’s share and share alike in this family.’

‘No,
you
have to have the most,’ Christina insisted as she carefully spooned the fruit into the small glass dishes she had brought from the sideboard.

They had not had strawberries for a long time, because they were so expensive and such a special treat. And so none of them spoke as they ate them slowly, savouring every bite, but their eyes shone and they smiled at each other with their eyes. And when they had finished they all three agreed that these were the
best
strawberries they had ever eaten… sweet, succulent and juicy.

But the highlight of the tea party was the birthday cake.

Christina and Vincent fussed over it in the pantry, before the child walked out, slowly, sedately, carrying it high in front of her.

And father and daughter cried in unison, ‘Happy birthday! Happy birthday!’

Drawing to a standstill in front of her mother, Christina said, ‘I’m sorry there’s only one candle, Mam, but that’s all that was left from my birthday cake. The others were ever so burned down.’

‘I don’t mind, Christie, one candle is certainly better than none.’

‘That’s what I told her,’ Vincent remarked, sitting down opposite Audra. ‘And I also said you’d probably prefer one candle to thirty.’

Audra gave him a small, rueful smile. ‘I can’t believe
that I’m actually thirty years old today. Vincent… where have all the years gone?’

Vincent shook his head, smiled faintly. ‘Don’t ask me, lass. I’ve no idea. And I’ll be thirty-four in nine days… or had you forgotten?’

Before Audra had a chance to answer, Christina cried, ‘We have to have a party for you too, Dad!’

***

Christina knelt to say her prayers.

Audra sat in the rocking chair and listened.

Once she had finished the long ritual of blessing her uncles in Australia and every member of the Crowther clan, Christina clambered up onto her bed and slid down between the sheets.

Rising, Audra went over to her, tucked in the covers and straightened the quilt, then sat on the edge of the bed. She smoothed her hand along her child’s innocent cheek and smiled at her. ‘It was a lovely birthday party, Christie, thank you.’

Christina smiled back. Then she asked anxiously, ‘We can have a party for Daddy, can’t we?’

‘Of course we can. It wouldn’t be fair if we didn’t… you had yours last month and there was mine today—so it’s his turn next.’ Audra leaned forward, kissed her daughter.

Plump little arms reached out and went around Audra’s neck. Christina nuzzled against her mother, filling with pleasure at the familiar smell of her cool fresh skin and the scent of Gardenia Flower Essence behind her ears. She whispered, ‘I love you, Mam.’

‘Oh darling, I love you, too. So very much. Come on, curl up and go to sleep. It’s very late now. Sweet dreams, honeybunch.’

‘Yes, Mam. ’Night, Mam.’

Christina did not fall asleep immediately.

She lay in bed watching the sky through the window. They had let her stay up way past her bedtime tonight since it was a special occasion, and now it was very dark outside.

The sky was inky black and filled with glittering stars oh so far away and the moon was as round as a silver half crown and just as shiny. A full moon, her father had said, just before she had been packed off to bed.

Oh how she loved her dad. And her mam. She liked it the best when it was just the three of them… her mam and her dad and her. Her dad had invited Auntie Laurette and Uncle Mike to the tea party. She was ever so glad they hadn’t been able to come. It wasn’t that she didn’t love them. She did. She loved all of her aunts and uncles and her grandma. And Grandpa. Especially Grandpa. She liked the way he smelled of leather and Gentleman’s Hair Pommade and eucalyptus pastilles that he sometimes gave to her, secretly when no one was looking, and he took her up on his knee and told her stories of many wondrous things. She didn’t mind that his big white curly moustache tickled her when he kissed her, or that he puffed away on a pipe that filled Grandma’s parlour-kitchen with smoke and made her eyes water. He called it ‘My fine Calabash’, and he wouldn’t let anybody touch that pipe of his, not even Auntie Maggie, who he thought the world of, so her dad said.

But she loved her mam and her dad the most. More than the whole world put together. They belonged to her. And she belonged to them. She wouldn’t want any other mam and dad. Hers were special. She just knew they were.

She snuggled down in the bed and closed her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep. She could hear the murmur
of their voices floating up the staircase… soft, warm, loving voices… she always felt so safe when she heard their voices…

***

‘She’s a very special child, Vincent,’ Audra said, settling back against the sofa in the sitting room.

‘Yes, she’s clever.’

‘What she has is more than cleverness, more than talent even… she’s gifted, Vincent, exceptionally gifted.’ Audra let her eyes rest on the mantelpiece where the painting stood, propped up in the middle of the birthday cards. ‘Before tea, you said you were struck by the watercolour, so much so you decided to have it framed.’

‘Aye, no two ways about it, I was impressed.’ Vincent glanced at the painting Audra had done years before of The Memory Place, then let his eyes wander to the back wall where a landscape by Adrian Kenton hung. ‘Our Christina gets it from you and your father, Audra, her artistic talent, I mean.’

‘Yes, she does. But she’s going to be a much better artist than I am when she grows up… and she’ll probably be better than my father too. The indications are already there.’

‘There shouldn’t be any doubt in your mind any more about who your father really was, Audra.’ He gave her a slow smile.

‘Oh, there isn’t, and I don’t suppose there ever was actually. I knew my mother would never do anything to hurt my father whilst he was alive. It was not in her nature to do anything shoddy. I think I’ve always known, deep down, that she and Uncle Peter only ever became involved later, much later, after she was widowed.’

Vincent nodded and reached for his glass of beer. He was glad that they had laid that old ghost finally.

They were both silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts.

The June evening had turned coolish and Vincent had put a match to the fire whilst Audra had been putting Christina to bed. Now she sat staring into the flames, thinking of the child who lay asleep upstairs. The gifted child, the child she had always known was going to have a glittering future.

Suddenly, Audra leaned forward, startling Vincent as she exclaimed, ‘Yes, we must do it!’

‘Do what?’ he asked, looking at her curiously.

She did not answer this question directly; instead she said, ‘I’ve been teaching her art for the last couple of years, and I’ll continue to do so, but there’s only so much knowledge
I
can impart.’

‘Yes,’ he said, crinkling his eyes, staring harder.

‘She’ll go to art school—’

‘When?’ he interrupted.

‘When she’s sixteen. They won’t accept her at Leeds College of Art before then. Later she’ll have to go to London. To study at the Slade, no, better still, at the Royal College of Art.’

‘How are we going to pay for all this?’ he demanded, his voice rising sharply. ‘We’ll never be able to afford an education like that for her, not even if the Depression ends and I get a permanent job. It’ll cost
thousands
.’

‘Yes, I know, but we’ll do it,’ she replied, very firmly. ‘We must, Vincent, we must!’ There was an eagerness in her voice, an excitement he had not heard for a long time. ‘Christina must be given every chance, every opportunity,’ Audra rushed on, ‘I won’t have her cheated just because of a lack of money. She has a gift… it must be trained. She’s going to be a brilliant painter, a great artist, Vincent.’

‘Well,’ he said slowly, his voice sinking, ‘I just don’t know…’

Audra sat up straighter and gave him one of her penetrating stares. ‘There can be no hesitation on our parts, Vincent, none whatsoever, do you hear! We must strive towards this goal, whatever the cost, whatever the sacrifice. Christina must have that chance. And I, for one, am going to make sure she gets it!’

‘I don’t know what to do about Audra any more, Mike, I don’t really. I’m at the end of my tether,’ Vincent said in a shaky voice.

He jumped up, and strode over to the window, where he stood looking out, narrowing his eyes against the bright April sunlight.

Mike said, ‘Yes, I’m aware how worried you’ve been—and for quite a while.’ The young doctor frowned, conscious of his friend’s anxiety, his frustration at being jobless. Vincent’s emotions were close to the surface these days, and the set of his shoulders indicated to Mike just how tense and distressed he was this morning.

‘What can I do to help—’ Mike began, but broke off as the sitting room door swung open.

Laurette backed herself into the room, carrying a tray. She turned and marched over to the fireplace. ‘Sorry I took so long with the tea,’ she said brightly, ‘but I had to check on the Sunday joint and the roast potatoes first. I brought myself a cup…’ Laurette paused in mid-sentence, suddenly noticing Mike’s troubled face, Vincent’s rigid stance near the window.

‘Oh,’ she said quickly, ‘am I interrupting something? Were you having a private talk? I’d better take my tea back to the kitchen and leave you both in peace.’

‘No, don’t be ridiculous,’ Vincent said, spinning
around on his heels, coming back to the fireplace. ‘It’s not anything you can’t hear.’ Lowering himself into a chair, he took out his cigarettes, lit one.

Laurette passed around the cups, then sat down, looking at Vincent expectantly, waiting for him to continue. For a moment or two Laurette observed her brother.

Vincent sat staring into the fire morosely, his face brooding as he smoked his cigarette.

Finally, hoping to draw him out, she asked, ‘Where did you say Audra and Christina have gone today?’

To Fountains Abbey,’ he said without looking up. ‘Another painting lesson in the country, a field trip as Audra calls it.’ At last he turned his face to Laurette, and added, ‘But you know she always takes Christie out to paint on her Sundays off from the hospital.’

‘Yes, and I think it’s admirable the way she’s teaching her everything
she
knows, schooling her in art, showing her paintings in the big houses like Temple Newsam and Harewood. Audra’s giving Christie a good grounding, Vincent, and she’ll be well prepared for art school.’

Vincent nodded, but made no comment.

Mike remarked, ‘You said you didn’t know what to do about Audra any more. Let’s talk about it… it does help to get it off your chest, and that’s really why you came to see us this morning, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s true, Mike.’ Vincent cleared his throat. ‘It’s Audra’s health that I’m worried about. She’s pushing herself harder than ever these days, stretching her strength to the limit. You both know what her schedule’s like… she’s working damned hard at the hospital and taking on additional duty, whenever she gets the chance, for the extra money. Then when she comes home she’s looking after us, cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing.
And
she’s tutoring Christie in art. And when she’s not
doing that, she’s toiling at that bloody sewing machine Mrs Bell gave her, doing alterations and making clothes for people. The work aside, she scrimps and scrapes, does without herself, in order to save every penny she can for Christina’s education.’

They both looked at him attentively, saying nothing, their faces sympathetic.

Vincent shook his head slowly. ‘It’s this relentless pursuit of money that troubles me, and I’m powerless to stop it. Helpless, really.’ Unexpectedly, Vincent’s voice shook again. ‘I daren’t interfere, daren’t say a word… when I have in the past she’s bitten my head off… I was hoping
you’d
talk to her, Mike, you know, as a doctor. She’d listen to you.’

‘I doubt that, Vince,’ Mike answered, his tone gloomy. ‘Of course I’d be willing to try, but I’d be wasting my breath. And so would Laurette, as close as she is to Audra. No one, nothing, is going to stop Audra. She’s single-minded, and she’s stubborn.
Implacable
.’

‘Aye, I know that only too well,’ Vincent muttered. ‘All this started years ago when Christina was first born. I told Audra at the time that she was propelled by a terrible driving force within herself, and I was right.’ He ran his hand over his weary face. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious, wanting the best for a child, I realize that. But what Audra’s been doing these past few years—well, it’s bloody abnormal if you ask me.’

Laurette said, ‘I’m not sure if abnormal is quite the right word, Vincent—’ She hesitated, searching for the correct expression to convey the sudden thought that had struck her. Then she said, slowly, carefully, ‘What we’re witnessing is an act of will, and one so selfless, so powerfully motivated it’s… well, it’s just
awesome
to watch.’

‘Bloody frightening, you mean,’ Vincent said harshly.
He took a deep breath, tried to soften his voice. ‘Look, Laurette, I want the best for our Christie, I really do. But there’s a limit to what people in our circumstances can do. Audra’s reaching too high, reaching for too much for the lass. I love Audra…’ He paused, cleared his throat. ‘I don’t want her to collapse, to get sick. I’m only trying to protect her.’

‘I don’t think she’ll pay any attention to any of us, as I said, but I
will
have a talk to her tomorrow, Vince,’ Mike promised. ‘I’ll be up at the hospital to see patients and I’ll find an opportunity to say something to her. I’ll insist she has a general check-up, just as a matter of routine. At least that might ease your mind.’