Mothers and Daughters (19 page)

‘No, not yet, but I spent the day with his son, an insecure, little boy.’ And he told Cecily about their day watching the paragliding.

‘Oh, did Alice have a go, she says she wants to.’ Cecily laughed.

‘No, we had Johnny and it was booked up being the weekend, but I’ll take her another time, without Johnny. Just us two would be best. Laura probably wouldn’t approve. I think she’s quite cautious like her father.’

‘You’re right, she’s not like Evie, who jumps before she thinks.’ Cecily sighed, ‘But Alice has the idea that Julian’s death has pushed Laura, and indeed Evie, to make these drastic decisions. Evie’s is worse of course, landing herself with a baby with a man who, by the sound of him, will not stay around.’

‘We couldn’t talk much today with Johnny there, but that could have something to do with it. Julian was obviously a good father and they must miss him dreadfully, he died far too young, but perhaps their decisions will make life more difficult for them, especially for Evie.’ Privately he thought that both girls should have had more sense than to jump into such relationships, Evie anyway, he hadn’t met Douglas so he couldn’t judge that, but it was best not to say it and it was too late now for incriminations.

‘It was foolish of her,’ Cecily said as if she’d read his mind. ‘Birth Control is readily available today. It was so difficult for us to get hold of it when I was young,, especially if we weren’t married, but now it seems its almost handed out like sweets, which,’ she smiled, ‘possibly makes it compulsory to sleep with someone even if you don’t want to, but one of them should have taken precautions.’

‘Unless she thought if she had his child he’d leave his wife and stay with her,’ Frank said. ‘She wouldn’t be the first woman to think that. She’s old enough to know what’s what, but missing her father makes her vulnerable to these so-called charming lovers.’

‘I haven’t met Nick,’ Cecily said. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll be asked to the wedding, so I never will.’

‘Nor will I, unless I go to Suffolk, and there’s no reason for me to go there.’

They discussed it more and time slipped by. They shared cheese and biscuits with a delicious red wine and fruit. Cecily did not seem tired; in fact, as the hours went on, she seemed more and more alert. It was comforting to be with her, she had been so much a part of Julian’s life. ‘She’s so much more fun and easier to be with than my mother,’ Julian used to say.

When Frank had first met Cecily she’d been working, travelling the world as a photographer, sending back pictures, usually of children – perhaps having none of her own, it was the closest she got to parenthood – children working on the rubbish heaps in India; little girls with their heads covered, posing in exotic marketplaces; boys flying kites in Afghanistan, their faces bright and eager or sometimes crushed by sorrows they were too young to understand.

Some of her photographs of the scenery of the countries she visited hung on the walls showing however cruel people were to each other nature still blessed them with wonderful sunrises and sunsets. The room with its warmth and soft lights threw up a feeling of intimacy and he said, his heart heavy now with guilt, ‘I should have been here for Julian, were his last weeks very bad?’

She regarded him gravely, reading the guilt in his expression. ‘We are born alone and we die alone, I learnt that in the war when so many people died such horrible deaths,’ she said gently. ‘His heart got very weak, there were various discussions as to whether to have certain treatments, even an operation, but before anything was decided he suddenly deteriorated and slipped away. I think that is what he wanted, not to go through painful procedures, sick-inducing drugs, just to struggle through a few more months of life.’ Her eyes flickered towards the two photographs of the young men she’d loved on the table beside her.

‘Without war we live longer, but it is the quality of life that counts, and I think he was ready to go, he hated putting Alice and the girls through it, though I’ve never said that to her. If he could have been made well again, it would have been different, but the medical world can only do so much, as you know with Henry,’ she said quietly. ‘Life means different things to different people and there are times when they should be able to choose their own exit.’

‘So Julian…’

‘No, it just happened with him, even the doctors were surprised he went so soon, though he could have lost the will to live, who knows? But he’s left such an empty void behind him. He was like the son I never had, the one I would have wanted.’ Her voice was soft; her faded eyes gleaming with unshed teas. He put his hand on hers and she smiled, ‘But Alice will be all right, I know she will, she’s been through hell, but she’d getting stronger, it’s just a pity the girls have landed themselves in such situations, but somehow it will work out, though perhaps not as happily as we might wish.’

It didn’t surprise Alice that there were repercussions after taking Johnny to the paragliding club. It wasn’t as if he’d even done it, but having been almost mute when he arrived he now wouldn’t stop talking about it.

She didn’t care what the ‘grisly grannies’ as she nicknamed them thought of her, but it worried her that it seemed to have upset the balance between Douglas and Laura.

‘Couldn’t you have taken him to the Natural History museum like other grandparents do, Mum?’ Laura wailed, having taken the day off work and coming round the morning after they’d collected him – which was very late so there was no time or energy for a post-mortem of the weekend then. ‘You know what they’re like, especially Elspeth, as Miriam, the other grandmother is too tied up with her husband’s health at the moment. Elspeth thinks it’s bad to overexcite him. He’s been let down, she said because now you’ve taken him there, he wants to do something he won’t be able to do, so it’s bad for his self-esteem.’

‘What nonsense, darling.’ Alice was exhausted; she’d slept badly the last two nights, first listening for Johnny, and both nights disturbed by thinking about Frank.

‘Poor child he seems so lost, so insecure, which is hardly surprising with his mother going off like that, but this outing made him happy, gave him an interest and Frank was wonderful with him.’

‘It’s not my fault he’s so shy.’ Laura slumped on the sofa in despair.

‘Of course it’s not,’ Alice said hurriedly, hoping Laura wasn’t going to start blaming herself for Johnny’s insecurity. She should not be marrying Douglas, at least not yet. She was twenty-four and had no experience with children, especially not damaged ones.

The wedding plans were well on their way, but should she not find a way to ask Laura if she was really sure she wanted to take on this battered family? It was a rather sudden decision and might it not be better to postpone the wedding anyway until the following summer to give everyone time to get used to the idea? But Laura in the mood she was in would take it as a criticism of her choice of man, and she’d set her heart on this wedding. Who knew what the reason was, she certainly didn’t.

‘It might be love, good old common and garden love,’ Cecily had said when Alice discussed it with her. ‘Just because they are not all over each other all the time doesn’t mean they don’t feel it deeply; they could just be slow burners.’

Slow burners or not, Alice wished she was more convinced of their future happiness.

‘Let’s have some coffee, it’s ages since breakfast,’ Alice said, hoping to change the atmosphere.

‘Johnny is dreadfully unhappy; sometimes he wakes in the night with nightmares. Douglas has to sit with him. I don’t know what to do about it, perhaps he does need professional help, but no one will do anything. His grandparents think it’s just a phase he’s going through.’

‘Did he have nightmares last night?’ Alice asked.

‘No, he slept right through. He was excited about the paragliding,’ she added grudgingly. ‘It’s just that Elspeth… who rang us first thing, told Douglas it was wrong of you to have taken him there She thinks…’ Laura looked guilty, as if she were responsible for Elspeth’s opinion, ‘that being so much younger than them – her and his other grandparents – you… you don’t have the right ideas.’

‘I have
my
ideas,’ Alice retorted. ‘I think I brought you both up successfully, didn’t I? No, don’t answer that,’ she said, expecting Laura to make some remark about Evie’s behaviour with another woman’s husband. ‘I shall do my best, but I don’t see why I should conform to the out-dated ideas of the grisly grannies.’

Laura giggled. ‘Oh Mum, what a name, but it’s true, they are a bit grisly, especially Elspeth. You’ll meet her very soon, Douglas wants to have a dinner with her and he wants to invite Frank as he sees him as Dad’s stand-in.’ She looked at Alice anxiously.

‘I suppose he is,’ Alice said. ‘So when is this dinner?’ Her stomach cramped with dread.

‘Sometime next week. Douglas also thinks Miriam and David should come, if David is well enough, being the other grandparents. He said the most important people are the children, and it would be good if all the major people in their lives could get to know each other.’

‘Next week?’ She knew she had to meet Douglas’s mother but had vainly hoped it wouldn’t be before the wedding. With luck the two of them not having much – if anything – in common, need hardly ever have to see each other. It was a bit daunting to have to meet the other grandparents as well though she did see his point, but couldn’t they meet up some other time in the future?

‘Yes, are you busy?’ Laura eyed her accusingly.

‘No, but let me know the date, Frank’s away on business, but hopefully he’ll be back in time.’ She didn’t think she could bear to go if he wasn’t there. ‘But David, is he very ill?’ She changed the subject.

‘No, it was what the doctor called a warning, but he’s meant to rest. So we’ll arrange it for the end of next week. What nights are you free and I’ll text Frank to see if he’ll be back, and what about Evie?’ Laura looked uncomfortable. ‘It will a bore for her won’t it, to come up just for dinner?’

Alice understood Laura’s reluctance to invite her now obviously pregnant sister to meet the family she was about to join. Elspeth would not approve, and if Evie were there, it might provoke a row, an atmosphere anyway. Evie would not take well to what she saw as sanctimonious remarks about the modern way of life as she practised it.

‘She’ll meet everyone at the wedding. You have the date the 4
^th
of December, that’s confirmed isn’t it? The house you want in Putney is free and what about a church? Are you getting married in a church?’ she asked tentatively, wondering if they’d have a religious service or just a blessing, or neither.

‘Douglas knows a priest who’ll give us a blessing in a little Victorian church on Putney Common, the reception’s just down the road.’ Laura took a brochure out of her bag and thrust it at her. ‘A cousin of Douglas’s had his reception there some years ago, but I’m sure it’s all right, we’ll go and look at it anyway.’

At least it wasn’t the same venue as his first wedding. Alice leafed through the brochure. It had a picture of a wrought iron gate with the words ‘Think and Thank’ intertwined in it. This led through a small garden to a pretty house. The words made her feel that it depended on the thoughts, which for her were now like a swarm of stinging bees coming in her direction and she wouldn’t thank anyone for them.

She accepted that Douglas was a good man, but she still felt that Laura, sad and lost without her father, had grabbed him as one might grab a passing branch if drowning in a fast river, regardless of what kind of tree it came from, whether it was a strong, supporting one or one that would splinter into pieces if tested. Even a strong marriage based on passionate love went through choppy waters, but if it was weak from the start, perhaps embarked upon with honourable but the wrong emotions, what hope was there then? But the thing that worried her most was that there were children involved, children who were already traumatized by the break-up of their parents’ marriage, and that she felt put more than the usual pressures on to Laura.

Now was the time to speak her mind, perhaps she should talk about the children, and their reactions to it, suggest they wait until the summer when the weather would be better and by then Laura would have had more time to think it through and decide if it really was what she wanted. Or should she speak to Douglas about her concerns about Laura taking on his children, especially while Johnny seemed so vulnerable? But before she could muster the words together, the telephone rang and Laura jumped up to answer it.

‘Oh, Frank, good it’s you. Douglas wants to arrange a dinner to meet his mother next week and hopes you can come, what nights are you free?’

Perhaps he was not free at all, Alice thought, but that would not stop the dinner with Elspeth taking place and it would be far worse if he couldn’t make it and be there to support her. Like it or not it was going to happen and she must get on with it.

*

The dreaded dinner was fixed for Thursday. They all met at a French restaurant off Sloane Square, Frank picked Alice up in his car and he laughed when she told him how much she was dreading it.

‘It’s not obligatory to get on with the in-laws,’ he teased her, ‘but I understand, it makes the marriage more real for you, doesn’t it? But it’s Laura’s choice and I think Douglas is a decent man. I liked him when I met him and I think he’ll suit Laura very well.’

‘Do you really?’ she asked and before he could answer she went on, ‘But the children, I worry about her having to cope with them. I mean she’s not just taking on a man, having time to get used to living with him before they add any more people to the household. Perhaps she ought to have lived with him and them for more than the occasional night or weekend, before deciding to marry him.’

‘She’ll manage, she’ll bring them some security,’ he smiled. ‘Stop worrying, Alice, throwing up obstacles.’

The dinner brought out the worst in her. As she guessed, Elspeth disapproved of her on sight. She was a tall woman, slightly hunched, her hair styled neatly like an iron-grey cap on her head; she was dressed in a plain fawn dress and jacket, with a high neck and a calf-length skirt. She shook Alice’s hand quickly as if she might catch something nasty from her and it was obvious as she looked her up and down that she thought her short, black lace dress was unsuitable. In her eyes, grandmothers did not do ‘sexy’.