Crimson (67 page)

The girl looked at Billy, who wore a shabby knitted cardigan and carpet slippers, no tie. Wearily she said, “You don’t look so much of a ladykiller at home, Billy.” Her voice was devoid of expression and of hope.

“I told you I’d bring her if you didn’t turn up.” Turning to Elinor, she said abruptly, “It’s his.” She nodded her head towards the blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms.

“How dare you come here! How dare you make these ridiculous accusations!” Billy blustered.

“Shhhh! You’ll wake the girls!” Elinor said automatically as her heart shrivelled.

For years, Elinor had subconsciously dreaded just such a scene, had known that Billy would be caught out one day. She was surprised it hadn’t happened before. She did not find it difficult to believe the girl, and her words had the surreal inevitability of a scene d6ji vu, although this tired young creature was not the tough, hard-bitten predator Elinor had half expected to appear someday.

Standing in the middle of the room, still clutching the bundle, the young woman started to cry in a soft, hopeless wait.

“I know Shorty told you I’d had the baby, Billy. He in hospital brought me two eggs. Every day, I Id come yourself.” She burst into fresh tears.

What the hell do you want?” Billy asked roughly. tj couldn’t stay at the hospital no longer, Billy. I can’t go baa to the hostel with a baby. I can’t go home. My dad vmdd kill me. I don’t know what to do. Won’t you come .“Vw look after us, Billy? Remember all those times you VromsedT y said, “You have no right to come here and cause trouble between my wife and me.”

At his formal tone of voice, the girl’s face hardened. She turned to look at Elinor.

Elinor stared back. The threadbare brown coat could disguise this child’s figure; she was clearly unaware of the aura of sexuality that she so strongly projected, and that was probably what had attracted Billy. Elinor was ““irritatingly aware that her own green WVS uniform made her look dumpy.

The girl said to Billy, “Why do you want to stay with iherT She jerked her head towards Elinor.

With a nervous, shaking hand, Elinor pointed to the chimneypiece, upon which stood two silver-framed photographs: Edward, aged seven, and Edward and Jane on their wedding day.

She said, “Billy and I have been married for twenty-three years. That is Billy’s son. Billy’s granddaughters are sleeping in this room. We are Billy’s family, and he will never leave us.” Her voice rang with a quiet confidence that she did not feel, although Elinor knew that Billy depended on her strength, ability, and ingenuity to look after him in wartime and still provide him with his home comforts: Billy liked to be looked after; Billy did not want to find himself responsible for this wilting woman-child and her helpless, dependent infant.

: “But you can’t dump me!” Pat Kettle pleaded.

“It’s your job to look after us, Billy. There’s nobody else.” This was a fatal error. Billy took a hesitant step behind Elinor.

“You can’t pretend we don’t exist!” Miss Kettle wailed. The baby in her arms started to cry.

“Tell me what to do, Billy! I can’t look after a baby and earn my living at the same time!” She looked beseechingly at Billy.

“It’s your baby whatever you like to think. You know I’ve never been with another man! I love you, Billy!” She appealed to Elinor.

“It’s his baby as much as mine! Why should I have all the responsibility? He’s got a home and someone to look after it I haven’t.” Raising his voice above the baby’s yells, Billy said, “I’m not admitting it’s mine.” He turned to Elinor.

“I admit … Well, you saw for yourself that she threw herself at me. But it only happened a couple of times. And it … was never anything serious. And if it hadn’t been for her bloody stupid religion, she could have taken precautions! That was her responsibility!”

At this point, the noise woke Annabel, who started to cry. Clare woke up and bawled in sympathy. Billy clapped his hands over his ears and turned away from the two women, towards the window.

Almost incredulous, the girl stared at his rejecting back.

“Well, I can’t cope any longer,” she said, and laid the blanket-wrapped baby on top of the Morrison shelter. Then, sobbing, she hurried from the room.

A small, clenched fist thrust up from the wailing, jerking bundle, which rolled towards the edge of the Morrison.

As Elinor jumped forward to stop the baby from falling to the floor, she heard the front door bang.

Defensively Billy said, “Stupid bitch.” To break the angry silence, he turned on the wireless. The Andrews Sisters sang cheerfully about the Boogie-Woogie Bugler Boy from Company B. vw. baby in one arm, Elinor switched off the wireWFiliiWslared at Billy.

“There’s some dried milk in the brr. “Make me a jugful. Quickly. This baby is hungry.” She would pretend that this baby was Edward and Jane’s third, daughter; a six-week baby couldn’t be passed off as a tWjnonth baby, but her new birth date would have to be bob, re Jane’s death. So Elinor would have to keep this infant away from the neighbours for a bit; then she would say that the baby had been born prematurely, had been tiny at birth and was still small for her age, and had been kept in hospital for months … Luckily, Annabel and Clare were too young to remember anything strange about the arrival of this sister … It would be easy to pretend.

“What happened to … my mother?” Miranda whispered.

“I never saw Mi ‘ss Kettle again,” Elinor said apologetically.

“I’ve no idea whether Billy still carried on with her after that. I doubt she’d have let him. We never spoke of it again.

“She abandoned me. My mother abandoned me,” Miranda said with disbelief.

“She was very young and clearly at the end of her tether. Be generous,” Elinor said.

“NoV Miranda’s voice was almost a shriek; her face was ashen white.

“Please, I don’t want this. I want my sisters and I want you to be … I love you, Gran! I want to be part of your family. You’re the one who has always looked after me, the one I’ve always loved!”

“So you are,” Elinor said firmly. She held out her frail arms and pulled Miranda against her.

“Some people are born into a family and some people are chosen. I chose you long ago, Miranda, and I love you every bit as much as I love Annabel and Clare.” She stroked Miranda’s hair.

“They are your sisters, and I trust you never to tell them otherwise.”

“But then I’ll be lying to Clare and Annabel,” Miranda cried.

“I can’t look them in the eyes and know that I’m hiding something so important from them!” She stepped back from Elinor.

“I’m not going to lie to them,” she said.

“I’m not going to deceive them. And I’m not going to lie to mysetR Then I really won’t know who I am!” She started to sob.

“How can I behave normally, as a sister, if I know I’m lying to them all the time? … You’ve always been able to shut your eyes to what you don’t want to see, or put on your rose-coloured spectacles. so that you only see what suits you in life. But I want to face up to life, and deal with what’s unpleasant, rather than hide or ignore it. I can’t live with the people I love, knowing that I’m acting a lie all the time deceiving them. I can’t do that! I could never behave naturally with them and I would have no peace of mind I couldn’t stand it. It would always be on my conscience.”

“Please, darling,” Elinor implored, “you’ve always been impetuous as well as straightforward. This time please listen to me. Annabel and Clare were too young to know. If I deceived you and your sisters, it was because I love you all very much, and I love you all the same. It’s often thought best not to let an orphan know she’s adopted, but to raise her as one of the family; that is what I did with you.”

“But Gran, you can’t imagine how I feel. It’s as though someone had suddenly pushed me over a cliff, and I’m falling into a void. I feel rootless. My life is never going to be the same again. I don’t belong anywhere…”

“Nonsense. You belong with us, as you always have.” Elinor’s thin hand stroked Miranda’s arm.

“Because although this sounds important it isn’t. It doesn’t change anything: you’re still an O’Dare still one of the family … our family. What happened was upsetting for me at the time, but if it hadn’t happened, then I wouldn’t have had my third granddaughter so I’m glad it did!”

bit her lower lip.

“Nevertheless, I can’t keep a like this from my … from Clare and Annabel.”

“s a difference between being dishonest and being W Elinor said.

“Everyone is morally entitled to guard their privacy to protect themselves; everyone does that, all the time. Nobody blabs their secrets to the world. Sometimes discretion and I refuse to call it dishonesty” is thee, best policy.” “But they’re not “the world”I They’re … my sisters … jiVd I want them to know the truth.” Then I would prefer that you didn’t tell them yet. I don’t want them to be distressed on your behalf-we’ve had enough upsets recently in this family. Besides, there’s nothing to be gained by telling them the truth. Not now.” Miranda stared at her.

“How can you judge that? You, who always ran from the truth if it didn’t suit you! You, who lied in so many ways by omission, by insinuation. Gran, you lied to everyone, most especially to yourself.. Why did you do it?”

Elinor paused before she spoke again; the pain was evident in her voice.

“Why does anyone lie? Fear. I was afraid of violence, afraid of the deeper unhappiness perhaps despair that I would feel if I had to admit to myself that my life was unhappy; I was afraid of having to face the world alone every woman’s fear and of being unable to cope. I’m afraid I’m not very brave, Miranda.” Miranda said nothing; her face reflected mute confusion. Elinor pressed her argument persuasively: “Miranda, you can’t see this thing objectively right now nobody in your position could. So please promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone yet.”

“Gran, Gran, how can I let you decide anything about this? You’re as subjective as I am. How can I trustyourjudgement?”

“I’m only asking you to give yourself time, to think more calmly about the matter.”

I After reflection, Miranda nodded her head slowly.

“All right. I’ll agree to that.”

“And should you eventually decide that they should be told, then let me tell them…” Elinor persisted.

“Okay,” Miranda responded wearily.

“And let me choose the time and the place to tell them. Just promise me that, darling.” With great reluctance, Miranda said, “Yes, if that’s what you want.” Elinor sighed with relief. She had managed to postpone this unhappy matter, but what was more important was that she had managed quickly to persuade Miranda that this hurtful revelation was of no consequence and that was certainly true.

Miranda threw her head back and stared unhappily at her grandmother.

“There’s another thing I also feel ashamed about. All my life I’ve howled for my fair share of whatever was going I felt it was my moral right. I felt cheated when I was left out of something because I was the youngest. I even insisted that I was morally entitled to inherit one third of all your money. I always made a point of that! And now I realize I’m not entitled to a single penny! Adam knew that. Why else would he have my birth certificate? It gave him proof I wasn’t entitled to any of the Dove Trust. Oh, Gran, I’ve been such a greedy little bitch! How could you stand meT “Hush, darling. I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense. The youngest child often feels left out, and I always understood how you felt. All any child is entitled to is a good education and perhaps a start in life, and luckily I was able to give you that. As to the rest … Who knows whether I’m going to have any money to leave anybody? But we’re none of us going to be homeless and starving. And anyway, that’s not what matters right now.” She tightened her arms around Miranda, and Miranda felt like a little girl again, being comforted in Elinor’s arms. Elinor slowly said, “Perhaps I also need that peace of which you spoke.”

SATURDAY, I FEBRUARY 1969

Mike wore his black leathers with the jacket unzipped; he stood, legs astride, before the pine log fire in Adam’s study. His face was white, and his clear, wide-apart grey eyes reflected his fury and his horror.

Adam brandished the Evening Standard. ““Society beauty loses eye’T he shouted.

“I told you to scare her not half kill her! You can’t hush up this sort of thing, you know!”

“I’m just as worried as you are. How do you suppose I fee lT Mike had rarely seen his brother so angry. Badtempered, yes, but not this towering fury. Unlike Mike, whose self-control could easily snap if he was sufficiently provoked, Adam usually kept his feelings under tight control.

“How the hell did it happen?”

“These people aren’t always controllable you know that, Adam! One of the reasons they do it is because they enjoy it. They don’t want to stop.”

Adam roared, “You didn’t even get my notebooks back!”

“There were no notebooks in Annabel’s purse, just the usual junk,” Mike again insisted.

“Her clothes were searched as well they found nothing.”

Adam didn’t bother to mention that the notebooks were upstairs in his desk, as usual. He felt chagrined that he hadn’t checked on them before having Annabel beaten up. He had a sudden thought.

“I’d better make sure that Elinor doesn’t find out about this! Of course she doesn’t read the papers, but there’s a TV stuck in front of her bloody bed! It could mean trouble!” As he spoke, he snatched up the telephone and dialled the long-distance operator.

connected, Adam brusquely addressed the recep- “flAt Mafrnn R-AA 1AIM-+ A 0 o you rnean, resigned? … Then give me Dr. Craig-Dunlop!” The receptionist stammered, “Dr. Craig-Dunlop is cruising in the Caribbean, on his winter vacation.”

“When will he return?” Adam’s voice was harsh.

or Craig-Dunlop has already left the cruise ship,” qmvered the receptionist.

“He’s flying back to Britain as as he can. I’ll telephone your office as soon as he Grant.” am could have kicked himself. He should have checked Elinor every single goddamn day. Why hadn’t the or told him that he was going on a cruise? Why hadn’t someone told him that the matron was leaving? My God, “‘if you wanted anything done, you had to do it yourself. I Sharply he asked, “And in the meantime, who is in charge of the nursing home? … Then tell the assistant matron that I want to speak to her immediately … To discuss one of her patients, of course … Mrs. O’Dare.”