Act of Will (39 page)

Her attractive appearance and her obvious artistic gifts to one side, Christina had turned out to be an exceptional young woman in other ways. Everyone agreed on that. Despite Grandma Crowther’s dire predictions that the private school and Audra’s big ideas would lead to trouble, this had not been the case. Christina had not grown up to be difficult, rebellious or a snob; nor had she turned on her parents, preferring her college friends to them. Quite the contrary, in fact. She was a loving and caring daughter, who adored Audra and Vincent in much the same way as they adored her, and, as she had done when she was a child, she enjoyed their company, believed
them
to be special.

Audra Crowther had done her job well.

Apart from providing Christina with the best of everything within her power, she had given the girl the best of herself. She had taught Christina the proper human values, instilled in her a sense of honour, duty and purpose. Drawing on her own genteel upbringing, Audra had reared her to have consideration for others. But perhaps most importantly of all, Audra had given Christina something else of incalculable value—a feeling of self-worth. And so she was remarkably secure.

Frequently uncommunicative and undemonstrative with Vincent, which had always been at the root of the trouble between them, Audra had been able to express her love for her child verbally, and with a show of physical
affection. Yet with this unconditional love had come discipline, from both her parents. Vincent, in particular, had been very strict with Christina when she had been a teenager.

Yes, she does have a certain kind of grace, Audra commented to herself, continuing to observe her daughter as she moved around the bedroom. But she’s not perfect by any means, and of course who is? Christie does have Vincent’s quick, rather violent temper, and his expensive tastes, his love of clothes and the finer things of life. And she can be impetuous. But, withal, she’s not a spoilt girl. Audra smiled. How many times had Eliza said, ‘You’re spoiling that girl, Audra, and so is Vincent. You’ll both live to regret it… oh yes, spare the rod and spoil the child.’ An echo of her mother-in-law’s voice reverberated in her head.

‘You’re looking pensive, Mummy, is something wrong?’

Audra sat up with a start. ‘No.’ She laughed wryly. ‘To tell you the truth I was thinking of your grandma. She always said my plans for you were far too elaborate and high flown. And la-di-da… That was her favourite expression for anything that had to do with me when you were little.’

‘Don’t I know it. She’s old-fashioned and so class-bound, poor old thing. But she means well, Mummy, and she’s always been very loving with me.’ Christina grinned. ‘But then I’m the only child of her darling Stormy Petrel.’

‘
Stormy Petrel?
’

‘Yes, that’s what she called Daddy when he was first born, and when he was a little boy. Didn’t she ever tell you that?’

‘No. But then your grandma and I have never been
close, never seen eye-to-eye on anything much, and certainly her ideas about a woman’s place in the world have always gone against the grain with me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Your grandma has always believed that women should… well, be subservient to men. Long before you were born, she was horrified when I said I wanted a nursing career. She told me it was my duty to settle down and have babies and toe the line and cater to your father.’

‘I can understand her saying that, Mother. I don’t think she approves of my coming to London and attending the Royal College of Art at all. She seems to think it’s a waste of money. When I went to say goodbye to her and Grandpa the other day she clucked and said something about it being a terrible expense, when I was bound to give up my art to get married and have babies the moment I met the first suitable young man.’

Audra smiled faintly. ‘That sounds like Eliza…’ She paused reflectively, and then after a moment she fixed her bright blue eyes on Christina. ‘You know, Christie, I am glad you’re ambitious, that you want a career for yourself, as well as those other things in life. You can have them all, you know, you really can. In fact, there’s nothing you can’t have if you try hard enough, work hard enough and strive towards a goal. And never, never limit yourself—’

‘I shall always reach for the stars,’ Christina interrupted, smiling at Audra. ‘Just as you’ve taught me to… and I remember very well when Grandpa said that about you, that September you sent me to Miss Mellor’s, when Grandma was doing her usual bit of grousing about you to him. He gave her such a ‘nasty look and told her you were right to
reach for the stars
. He’s always admired you
for that, Mummy, and—’ Christina swung to the small desk and reached for the shrilling telephone.

‘Oh hello, Daddy. How are you?’ There was a short pause as she listened carefully, then she looked across at Audra, nodding and smiling. ‘Yes, Daddy, I understand.’ There was another pause. ‘Yes, we’ve had a very nice day. We went to lunch at Fortnum’s and then we spent the afternoon at the Tate looking at the Turners.’ Christina laughed at a remark of her father’s, listened briefly, then finished, ‘Yes, I will. Let me get Mummy for you now.’

Audra rose and went to take the telephone from her daughter. ‘Hello, Vincent. Is everything all right?’ she asked and immediately fell silent as Vincent spoke to her in a rush of words.

Christina slipped out, smiling to herself. She crossed the minuscule hall and went into the kitchen that adjoined the living room; after putting the kettle on the gas, she took endive, lettuce and tomatoes from the refrigerator and began to wash them.

A few minutes later, Audra joined her in the small galley-style kitchen. ‘Let me help you,’ she said.

‘There’s not much to do, really.’ Christina glanced over her shoulder and remarked, ‘Honestly, Daddy’s getting to be such an old fuss pot. I can’t have a conversation with him at the moment without him telling me to watch my step, and he keeps saying “think on, love, think on”. I don’t know what’s got into him lately.’

‘Well, you’re
still
his little girl in many ways, and he’s a bit worried about you being out on your own, I suppose. And you’d better not let him hear you call him
old
, he wouldn’t like that.’

‘Mmmmm,’ was Christina’s only response as she began to peel a tomato. Suddenly she giggled, swung to her mother and said, ‘Gosh, you’re going to have a
huge
phone
bill, Mum, when you get home. Daddy’s hardly been off it this week.’ She began to giggle, and her eyes were mischievous. ‘I do believe he’s courting you again.’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ Audra exclaimed.

***

That evening Christina took Audra to see her favourite actress and actor—Vivien Leigh and Laurence Olivier.

They were starring in the Festival of Britain production of Shaw’s
Caesar and Cleopatra
and Shakespeare’s
Antony and Cleopatra
, each play being performed back to back on successive nights.

This was Christina’s big surprise for her mother.

Audra knew they were going to the theatre, but she had no idea what they were going to see and she was thrilled when Christina told her their destination as they sat on the bus.

‘There’s no point in seeing one play without the other, so I bought tickets for both nights, Mummy, and we’ll be coming back tomorrow.’

‘Oh darling, how extravagant you are, just like your Daddy,’ Audra said, but her face glowed with happiness.

‘This is a theatrical
first
, Mum, I know we’re in for a splendid evening in the theatre, one we’re not likely to forget,’ Christina remarked, filled with pleasure that she could do something nice for her mother.

Audra could hardly contain her excitement as they took their seats in the theatre, and she reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand, whispered, ‘Thank you, Christie, for thinking of this very special treat for me… I know I’ll never forget it.’

From the moment the curtain rose on the great sphinx that opened the Shaw play and would close Shakespeare’s the following night, they were captivated by this most
famous of all husband-and-wife acting teams and all of the other actors and actresses.

Audra and Christina talked about the performances and the costumes and the scenery for hours afterwards, both on the bus returning to the flat, and when they were having a cup of tea together before going to bed.

‘Vivien Leigh is simply beautiful,’ Audra said. ‘And as for her coronation robes—why I’ve never seen anything more magnificent. And Sir Laurence Olivier is the consummate actor, the greatest on the stage today, isn’t he?’

‘He certainly is, Mummy,’ Christina agreed. ‘I can’t wait for tomorrow night.’

***

Before either of them realized it, Audra’s second week in London came to an end.

It had been a wonderful time for them both. Apart from getting Christina settled in the flat before she started her courses at the Royal College of Art in September, they had been able to share some happy days together. They had been to see other plays and to the pictures, which they always enjoyed; they had visited museums and as many art galleries as they could cram in.

Vincent had given Audra some money before they had left Leeds and told her to take themselves out to dinner on him, and this they had done. There had been days when they had simply pottered around the little flat and gone for walks through Green Park and down The Mall, or window shopped in Bond Street and browsed around Hatchard’s, Audra’s favourite bookstore. But every minute had been precious to mother and daughter, and Audra would never forget her two weeks with Christina at this time in her daughter’s life.

‘My stay in London has been so special,’ Audra said as
they sat in the taxi going to King’s Cross, on Friday morning at the end of her stay.

‘And for me too, Mummy,’ Christina replied, and instantly became silent. She suddenly realized how much she was going to miss her mother and it also registered, forcibly, that from today she was going to be on her own.

They were both a little sad as they walked down the platform towards the train for Leeds, and just before Audra boarded, Christina hugged her, said in a tremulous voice, ‘I’ll never be able to thank you enough, or repay you for everything you’ve done for me, Mummy. You’ve been the best, the most wonderful mother in the world.’

Audra stared at Christina, a look of surprise crossing her face. ‘But I only did my duty,’ she said.

***

Audra had told Vincent not to meet her at Leeds City station and being as frugal as always she took a tram back home to Upper Armley.

From the moment she let herself into the house she was conscious of the quietness; she was stunned by it, really. As she put her suitcase down in the hall and took off her hat she felt the tears she had suppressed throughout the day begin to brim in her eyes. All of the sunshine has gone out of my life, she thought, groping in her pocket for her handkerchief.

Vincent also felt Christina’s absence when he came home from work that evening. But he did not say anything to Audra, aware of her sadness. Instead he chatted about her trip, endeavoured to draw her out about it, believing this would cheer her up, lift her out of herself. And it did for a while.

But after supper, as they sat drinking their coffee in front of the fire, she retreated into herself. So did he, and
they were lost in their own thoughts for a short while.

Suddenly, Vincent felt that he had to talk to her about his feelings, and he looked across at her and murmured, ‘It’s odd, isn’t it, not having our Christie around? So quiet, Audra.’

‘Yes.’

Vincent sighed softly. ‘Well, lass, she’s gone from us now. I don’t suppose she’ll ever come back here—to live, I mean.’

Audra frowned at him. ‘I don’t want her to, Vincent. If she did that, what would it have all been about?’

‘Aye, that’s true. You said you’d give her the world when she was a baby in St Mary’s Hospital, and you have, love.’

‘I only did my duty as a mother,’ she said.

Vincent made no comment, merely sipped his coffee, then took out his packet of cigarettes. He toyed with them for a few minutes, before putting them down on the coffee table. He fixed his eyes on her. ‘We’ve been through a lot, Audra, you and I.’

‘Yes, we have.’ She met his gaze. A curious thought struck her and before she could stop herself, she said, ‘We’ve been tested, I think.’

He stared at her intently.

‘But we’ve come through all right. We have, haven’t we, Vincent?’

He nodded, then cleared his throat. ‘I was thinking that you might like to go away with me next weekend… now that we’re alone there’s no reason why we can’t do that, is there?’

Audra was flabbergasted. ‘Where to? Where would we go?’

‘Robin Hood’s Bay?’

‘Why?’

‘Because that’s where we went on our honeymoon—’ Vincent paused, took a deep breath. ‘It’s not too late for us, is it, Audra? Couldn’t we start all over again, as if this was the beginning?’

‘Perhaps it is,’ she said.

Although she missed her parents and was frequently homesick, Christina soon settled into her new life of independence.

She was exhilarated by the excitement of London and all of the attractions it offered, but because she was aware of the supreme effort which had been expended by Audra, to bring her to this point in her life, she was an assiduous student.

Christina had no intention of falling into bad ways, neglecting her studies and so risk disappointing her mother. This aside, she was a hard worker by nature, and ambitious.

From the first day she started in September, her classes at the Royal College of Art in Kensington were challenging and stimulating, and she threw herself into her work with enthusiasm, diligence and dedication.

It was at this time—the early fifties—that the college was starting to be known as the art mecca of the world, and it was teeming with gifted people, tutors and students alike, and in all departments—from figurative and landscape painting and sculpture to textile, costume and scenic design.

From the day she had applied for entry into the college earlier that year, had submitted her best work, then been interviewed and accepted, the tutors at the college had
been aware of her extraordinary gifts as a landscape painter. Since her childhood, Christina had seen everything in terms of light, and her paintings seemed drenched with it, whether it was the golden light of a sunlit summer day, the cold, pewter-coloured light of a Yorkshire sea in a winter storm or the brilliant luminous light that suffused the Dales in spring. Because of the quality of her work and her dedication to it, Christina was soon a favourite with her tutor, as well as other members of the staff, who all saw in her the ideal student.