Love and Devotion (23 page)

But work was no excuse for letting herself go. She knew she wasn’t overweight, not really, but at her age she couldn’t afford to carry too many excess pounds. Will used to say she had the best curves this side of a Stradivarius violin, but Steve didn’t like the ‘comely wench’ look, as he referred to any woman bigger than a size twelve. Just as well he’d never seen her when she was pregnant with the girls. She’d been enormous then. Will used to pretend he couldn’t get his arms around her, but then he’d kiss her, and suddenly his hands and arms would be all over her and they’d end up in bed. For a lot of couples, pregnancy puts a stop to sex, but it didn’t for them. In those days, she and Will couldn’t get enough of each other.

What a lifetime ago that was. And how pig-headedly, how selfishly and how recklessly Will had thrown it all away. If she lived to be a hundred, she didn’t think she would ever forgive him for what he did to her and the girls. She cringed at the embarrassing memories of trying to pretend to her friends and work associates that all was well at home, that her husband was merely taking time out to consider an exciting career change. She would sooner have died than let anyone know that he was at home drinking endless cups of coffee and watching hour after hour of mind-rotting daytime telly while she was out grafting from dawn till dusk.

Realising that Steve’s hands were still on her waist and that he was saying something, she came back to the present with a jolt. ‘Sorry, darling, what was that?’

‘I was just asking if you remembered how tough the chicken was that Suzie cooked for you on your fortieth. She must only have been fourteen. It makes you wonder where the time goes, doesn’t it?’

Maxine snapped the lid back onto the tube of mascara, and refusing to let the past spoil the evening or her mood, she said, ‘I prefer to think about the future and what that has in store for us. Come on, let’s go downstairs and see how the chef’s faring.’

‘Absolutely not. Suzie said we’re under strict instructions to wait in the sitting room with Gemma until we’re summoned to the dining room.’

The doorbell chimed. ‘That’ll be Will,’ she said. ‘I wonder if he knows what this evening’s all about. I certainly don’t buy your olive-branch theory.’

 

Will had promised Suzie that he’d be on his best behaviour. ‘Don’t worry,’ he’d told her when she’d said what she was planning. ‘I won’t crack a single joke in poor taste.’

As they sat round the late nineteenth-century French mahogany dining table and rested their bums on a set of Victorian rosewood parlour chairs (all genuine, no fakes or repro here), with everything glowing lusciously in the tinkling light cast from a rococo-style ormolu chandelier above their heads, Will’s light-heartedness was all a front. Beneath the gossamer-thin surface of apparent joviality, he was a bundle of nerves. He knew Maxine would have him strung up by his privates before the night was through. God, he wished Suzie had told Maxine before him. ‘That’s what comes from being Mr Approachable,’ Marty had told him. ‘And thank your lucky stars that Suzie does trust and love you. Not many fathers would get such treatment. So stop whingeing and buckle down.’

‘Cheers, Marty, you’re a real pal,’ he’d said. ‘Just promise me this: as my solicitor you have to make sure my wishes are adhered to at my funeral. R.E.M.’s ‘I’ve Been High’ has to be played when you help carry in the coffin. Okay?’

‘Stop being such a coward. So what if Maxine does have a go at you for being first to know? That’s more a reflection of her character, not yours.’

‘Being first to know isn’t the problem. It’s the fact that I knew and didn’t tell her. I’m going to be shredded.’

Nina Simone singing ‘My Baby Just Cares For Me’ smooched her way into the dining room from the CD player in the sitting room - the entire ground floor of the house was rigged up to Steve’s state-of-the-art system - and for a welcome moment of distraction, Will listened to the lyrics about Nina’s baby not caring for shows or clothes, or cars and races or high-tone places.
Ding, dong!
Irony alert, he thought. Maxine and PC Plod were obsessed with the superficial frippery money could buy.

Registering that an ominous silence had fallen on them, and terrified Suzie might feel now was the time to explain why they were all here, Will said, ‘So, Steve, how’s tricks? People still wanting to have their houses wired up like Fort Knox?’

‘More or less. Did Maxine tell you I’m in the middle of negotiating for an American company in the Midwest? It’ll be quite a deal if we can pull it off.’

‘No she didn’t.’ Will glanced across the table to Maxine. He’d heard on the grapevine that she was expanding Stone’s and buying a saleroom in Staffordshire, but Steve’s plans were news to him. Just how much money did they need? ‘Perhaps she was sparing my feelings,’ he said carefully. ‘Me being such a pauper.’

Maxine cleared her throat. ‘If you’re a pauper, Will, you have only yourself to blame. Anyway, the truth is that I was waiting to tell you when it was official.’

‘I doff my cap to your thoughtfulness, your ladyship.’

‘It’s only a small company,’ Steve said as though imagining he could ever smooth the waters, ‘just to give us a foothold in a wider market.’

‘Hey, you kick ass and go as global as you like. The poor will always be here to remind you of what you left behind.’

‘Dad!’

Damn!
He’d broken his promise. ‘Sorry, Suzie,’ he murmured, giving her the briefest of apologetic smiles. He didn’t dare risk looking at her properly. If he did then he’d really feel the pathetic loser he turned into when he was around Maxine for too long. When the heat was off him, and Maxine had eased back on the dirty looks and Steve was changing the CD, Will took a moment to snatch a sideways glance at Suzie again. All things considered, she didn’t look too bad. There was no obvious sign that she was pregnant, although to the discerning eye, maybe the loose-fitting top she was wearing was a bit of a giveaway. Unlike Gemma, whose midriff was permanently on display no matter what the weather, Suzie’s was well covered up.

Will and Gemma were still in the dark about what she was going to do regarding the baby. Gemma reckoned that Suzie would keep the baby and a small, indefinable part of him hoped that she would. Unbelievably, the idea of being a grandfather had grown on him. Simplistically, the child he had helped to create, the child who carried his genes, now carried another extension of himself. Wasn’t this the whole point of the human existence? The continuation of the species.

He suspected Maxine wouldn’t see it quite this way. Moreover, he fully expected her to find a way to blame his defective genes for bringing this on Suzie and, more importantly, on the Stones’ good name.

They were halfway through their desserts when Suzie announced that she had something to say. His heart thudded and he put down his spoon and fork. This was it, then.

 

Suzie took a deep breath. All day as she’d chopped, sliced, mixed and marinated, she’d rehearsed what she was going to say. She said it now: ‘Mum, you’d better pour yourself another glass of wine; you’re going to need it. I’m pregnant.’

Her mother didn’t reach for her glass, as Suzie had thought she would, but her jaw did go slack. ‘Oh, my God!’ she muttered. Then more loudly: ‘I don’t believe it. How? I mean, how could you be so bloody stupid?’ And louder still: ‘You stupid,
stupid
girl!’

This was exactly the response Suzie had expected, but even so the sharpness of her mother’s tone made her feel like a naughty child. Swallowing back the lump of fear that had been lodged in her throat all evening, she sensed her father sitting up straighter in his seat. ‘Maxine,’ he said firmly, ‘just once in your life will you show a little compassion?’

‘Wishy-washy compassion isn’t what’s called for right now,’ Maxine fired at him, her eyes blazing, her shoulders squared. ‘Cool-headed detachment is what’s needed. That’s what will get this sorted out.’

Oh, God, thought Suzie, this was just what she wanted to avoid. Then why had she planned to tell her mother this way? Because, coward that she was, she’d wanted to hide behind as many people as she could. Especially her father. Her mother’s eyes were on her again. ‘How pregnant are you?’ she demanded.

‘Four and a half months ... nineteen weeks to be precise.’

Maxine paused to take this in. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘that still gives us time to deal with this mess. It needn’t be the disaster it sounds. Presumably the father isn’t going to make any trouble and insist on his rights or some such crap.’

Suzie winced. She didn’t like hearing the baby referred to as a mess. She was about to say something, but Dad beat her to it: ‘Maxine, do you think you could sound just a little more like a mother and not the hard-bitten chairman of the board trying to — ’

He got no further. Maxine rounded on him. ‘The day you have something sensible to say, Will, I’ll be in touch. For now, I suggest you leave the matter to me.’

‘What about Suzie? Doesn’t she figure in this?’ piped up Gemma.

Maxine turned her attention to Gemma. ‘Well, of course she does.’ She hesitated. Switching her gaze to Will and then back again to Gemma, she said in a more measured voice, ‘Hang on, you two don’t look or sound at all shocked by what Suzie’s told us. Why’s that?’

A crashing silence roared around the table. Gemma and Will both stared at Suzie, and knowing it was down to her, she said, ‘Mum, I know you’re trying your best to cope with this, but — ’

‘They already knew, didn’t they?’ Maxine interrupted her. For a second, she looked genuinely hurt. And oddly vulnerable. Something Suzie would never have thought possible. But it was only a flicker of emotion, then once more her mother was on the attack and Suzie was bracing herself. ‘When did you tell them?’

Honesty seemed the wisest option. ‘Two weeks ago.’

‘And you didn’t think to mention it to me?’

‘I ... I wanted to be sure in my mind what I was going to do before I spoke to you. I didn’t want you worrying unnecessarily.’

‘You’re not telling me you’ve had to deliberate over this, are you? How the hell do you think you’ll carry on at university with a baby hanging round your neck? And don’t imagine for one second that I’m going to step into the breach and take care of it; I’ve got the new saleroom to cope with, on top of everything else. And as for your father, he’s already proved how inept he is when it comes to shouldering responsibility.’

‘For God’s sake, Maxine! Do you have to be so insensitive?’

‘Dad’s right, Mum,’ joined in Gemma, ‘you’re out of line, talking like Suzie doesn’t have any choice in the matter. It’s her baby; only she can decide what she’s going to do.’

‘Gemma, I’d rather you didn’t speak to your mother like that.’

‘This is a family matter, Steve, so I’d rather you did us all a favour and kept quiet,’ said Will.

‘How dare you speak to Steve like that? Please remember that you’re here as a guest in our house.’

‘Oh, as if I could ever forget.’ Will flung down his napkin and got to his feet. ‘If you can’t be civil,’ he said, pushing back his chair, ‘then I give up.’

Feeling tearful now, Suzie had to shout to make herself heard above the din. ‘Please!’ she yelled. ‘Please, will you all just calm down. And Dad, don’t even think about leaving. I have more to say and I want you to hear it.’ She waited for her father to sit down again. ‘Now,’ she said, when she had everyone’s attention. ‘This is what I plan to do.’

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t until Will was home that he trusted himself to replay the scene. Maxine had been breathtaking in her ferociousness. Riding roughshod didn’t come close. -She’d spoken in terms of ‘the right thing to do’, ‘the only sensible option’ and ‘the best thing all round’. But not a word did she say of the emotional stress this had to be putting on poor Suzie.

He poured himself a generous glass of Glenmorangie and went outside. It was a cool, clear night and the sky was pricked with diamond-white stars. He took a gulp of his drink, then walked the length of the garden. The gate creaked noisily in the hushed stillness. He sat in the moonlight on the old bench and swished another swig of whisky round his mouth, letting it dull his senses. It was a long time since he’d experienced this level of animosity towards Maxine and the strength of his feelings alarmed him. But what scared him most was his reaction to Suzie’s decision. She had opted to have a termination and he was staggered how disappointed he was. Stupidly, he’d already pictured himself kicking a ball around with the little lad. Taking him for walks. Hunting for conkers together. Explaining to him why R.E.M. were the greatest rock band to come out of America. Teaching him the ways of the world: that it was the law to put HP sauce on bacon butties, that a woman will always think her bum is too big no matter how much you say it isn’t, and politicians will always lie to save their own necks.

And yes, he’d imagined a grandson.

The son he’d never had.

He drank some more whisky.

But it wasn’t to be. And rightly so, he told himself. Suzie was much too young to go through motherhood. Why the hell should she want to sacrifice the best years of her life and all the wonderful opportunities on offer in order to bring up a child she’d never planned to have?

He raised the glass again. How had it happened? How the hell had he allowed himself to get so attached to the idea of a grandson?

Maxine, on the other hand, had been obscenely quick to support Suzie in her decision. So damn quick Will wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d rolled up her sleeves and carried out the abortion there and then on the dining-room table. He groaned and hung his head, shocked that he could think of something so monstrous.

He was overreacting, he knew. He’d allowed himself to become too emotionally involved. He had to step back and be more objective. Because let’s face it, when he’d been nineteen, the last thing he’d have wanted was a girlfriend telling him she was pregnant. He’d like to think he’d have stood by and that the two of them would have made a go of it, but Suzie was alone. The father - never to know about his part in this drama - would not be on hand to share the load. So of course it made sense for Suzie to get rid of the baby, to put the whole business behind her, carry on with her studies and be glad that she’d been given a second chance.