Second Chance (20 page)

‘Why are you smiling?' Paul asked me.

‘I'm trying to stop crying, that's all.'

‘I'm trying to stop crying, too, but I can't smile,' Annabel said.

She and I fell behind the other two, ‘I've got something to tell you,' she said.

She must have sensed my apprehension because she didn't say anything for a moment or two. But whatever she wanted to say was hanging in the air between us so that finally I said, ‘Is it to do with Selena?'

‘No. To do with Paul and Francesca.'

‘They're getting back together?' I asked. I'd only that moment thought of it, but it immediately struck me as possible, even probable. ‘A tragedy of this sort can often bring people together,' I said in a small voice.

‘I haven't been told anything. It's only that I'm getting certain vibes, that's all. I just thought I ought to warn you.'

‘Thank you. I appreciate it.'

‘No you don't. You think I'm an interfering bitch, I know you do. I suppose you think I'd welcome my parents getting back together, but I wouldn't. Well, I would in a way, but I'd be afraid my mother would dump Paul again as soon as she got over Selena's death. I know he's safer with you. You wouldn't let him down. And though I try not to care about people, I do care about him.'

‘I care about him, too, but...'

‘But?'

‘But strange things happen to everyone, mysterious things like falling in love. Even to unremarkable people like me.'

‘Kate, what are you saying?'

‘I'm not saying anything at this point. But I don't want you to think of me as some wonderfully stable and dependable person. I'm weak and vacillating like everyone else. That's all I'm saying.'

Why should I be feeling as though I'd been punched in the stomach? If Paul wanted to get back with Francesca, wouldn't that solve my problems, or at least some of them?

Laurie Bridgewater, Annabel's beau, was in the flat when we got back.

I deliberately use that old-fashioned, almost archaic word, because no other does him justice; he was tall, dark, elegant, elegantly dressed, beautiful, charming – the sort of young man you usually see only in old French films. When he put his arm round Annabel, she burst into tears, looking fragile as a snowdrop. Still holding her, he shook hands with Paul, Francesca and me, offering us his most sincere sympathy. He was so handsome, so gallant, that for a time we all found it difficult to do anything but look at him with wonder. And within a couple of minutes he seemed to have taken charge of all the arrangements we still had to make: he'd call on all Selena's tutors to make sure they'd heard of her death; he'd pack everything left in the flat when Annabel returned with her parents and take them to London during the following week; he'd see about letting the flat, he'd drive us to the funeral; we could leave absolutely everything to him.

We all seemed to relax in the power of his presence. We'd all, even Francesca, been fumbling our way uneasily through all the pitfalls of the day, nervous of putting a foot wrong, afraid to speak our minds about anything. Now Laurie was in control and we breathed more easily.

He'd contacted the police and they'd confirmed that it wasn't necessary for Annabel to spend another night in Cambridge, he'd help her pack some things, while Paul and Francesca could fetch their belongings from the hotel and be ready to drive to London in half an hour, Paul taking me, Francesca taking Annabel.

‘But I need to borrow Paul's car,' I said. ‘I have to go back to Wales, and it's too late, now, to get a train.'

‘I'll come with you,' Annabel said. ‘And tomorrow we can arrange the funeral.'

We were all, even Laurie, loath to argue with her; her eyes were glittering and there were spots of high colour on her cheeks: she seemed feverish. ‘I'll come with you,' she repeated, her voice even more determined and steely.

‘Fine,' Laurie said.

Paul and Francesca went off obediently to fetch their bags from their hotels and I made a pot of tea, wondering whether Annabel was intent on coming with me to give her mother and father more time on their own. Didn't children always want their parents to get back together, however unsuited they were? Annabel and Selena had hated me when they were children because they'd thought, quite wrongly, that I was the cause of the break-up.

I switched my thoughts to another direction. ‘How well did you know Selena?' I asked Laurie when Annabel was still sorting out her things in the bedroom. ‘I don't think I knew her at all. Annabel says I'd never taken the trouble to distinguish between them.'

He conferred on me his full attention, his intent gaze. ‘It was Selena I knew first. She was in my tutorial group. Very clever, a very original mind. I got to know her, liked her a great deal, we were often together, but there was never anything between us. We never went out together, or anything like that. What I mean is, please don't think that I'm in any way responsible for her suicide.'

‘Of course not,' I said. ‘Has Annabel suggested that you were?'

‘Oh no, she'd rather blame herself. She keeps saying that Selena hated her and was frightened of her. But, you see, no one really knows the reason. Did you know that ninety per cent of people who commit suicide leave a note, an explanation or a vindication, but the police didn't find anything here, though they went through the place with a toothcomb. I'd really like to understand what she was going through. Whenever I was around, she always gave the impression of being distant and rather impassive.'

‘She was perhaps terribly disturbed that she and Annabel had become so different, that Annabel seemed to be having all the fun and she all the work.'

‘But I was always begging her to come out with me and Anni. Don't you believe me?' he asked, when I made no response.

‘Yes, I believe you. But if, by any chance, she was in love with you, that might not have been too easy for her.'

‘But she wasn't in love with me. Why suggest that?'

‘You're the type women fall for. That can't have escaped your notice.'

‘But Selena didn't seem to like me. Good God, she was totally against the life I was leading. And she thought I was a bad influence on Annabel.'

‘You can be in love with someone though you disapprove of him.'

Annabel came back to the sitting room. ‘What are you two arguing about?'

‘Your stepmother thinks Selena was in love with me,' Laurie said.

Annabel looked from him to me, then back at him. ‘No, it was nothing like that. Selena considered Laurie beneath her notice. She ignored him as she ignored everyone else.'

Laurie looked hurt. ‘I'm not too sure about that,' he said crossly.

During the course of the day, Annabel's anger had changed to a profound sadness. I couldn't decide whether or not it was a sign of improvement.

Why was she so determined to come home with me? What was I going to do with her? How would she spend her time? I certainly wouldn't be able to see Rhydian while she was with me, though perhaps I'd be able to talk to him on the phone, hear his low, sensual voice. I felt weak at the thought of him, then ashamed to be wanting him so much at a time when I should be thinking only of others. All the same, I gave myself up, for a moment or two, to a trembling contemplation of our sudden, ferocious passion.

‘What are you thinking about?' Annabel asked me.

‘Why do you ask?'

‘You looked so intense. As though you were solving all our problems.'

‘Afraid not. I'm worried about the journey home, that's all. It's a long way from here. Two hundred miles, at least.'

‘I'll do the driving. I enjoy it.'

‘Why do you suddenly want to come with me? You've never wanted anything to do with me before.'

She didn't answer. Perhaps it was as much of a mystery to her as it was to me.

‘I'll be following on tomorrow,' Laurie said. ‘When will the funeral be?'

It was five before we left the flat. The evening was mild and sunny, the sky a coppery green. Annabel drove through Cambridge and as far as Northampton where we stopped for a pub meal, Annabel looking so pale and wan that everyone stared at her.

I felt wonderfully revived after some pasta and a glass of red wine and insisted on taking over the driving. I knew my way across the Midlands, I'd worked for two seasons in Stratford and for two months in Worcester years ago; even in the dark, the roads seemed familiar and I had a moment's exhilaration at the thought that I was driving home.

‘Are you going to drive all the way at forty-five miles an hour?' Annabel asked.

‘Of course not. Thirty is my top speed in Wales. Very dangerous roads.'

‘Why are you so old?'

‘It's all those years piling up on top of me and all the griefs.'

‘If you'd let me drive, I'd at least have something to concentrate on.'

‘Go to sleep.'

We seemed to be getting on well. I stopped dreading the days ahead. I opened the window and felt the clean mountain air on my face. I looked over at Annabel and smiled at her.

‘I'm pregnant,' she said.

I breathed steadily in and out, determined not to say the wrong thing. And everything I thought of seemed the wrong thing.

‘Don't look so frightened,' she said. ‘Girls get pregnant all the time. Even the Virgin Mary. For God's sake say something, even if it's only a bloody platitude.'

‘OK, you're pregnant. How pregnant? How certain are you? Have you had a test?'

She didn't answer. There seemed scorn, even contempt, in her silence.

‘Anyway, none of it matters. I refuse to worry about you. Your parents are rich and supportive and your boyfriend is exceedingly handsome. Whether you have an abortion or an extremely beautiful baby is up to you. All I intend to do is make you nourishing meals, cabbage and so on, and buy you multi-vitamin tablets and folic acid while you make your decision.'

We drove several miles in silence.

I remembered how terrified I was of getting pregnant while I was a student. For me, it would have meant the end of all my dreams, all my ambitions. When at last I worked up enough courage to confront a doctor and ask him to put me on the Pill, it was the beginning of a new life. A new heaven and a new earth.

‘I
had
decided on an abortion,' Annabel said. ‘And my exceedingly handsome boyfriend was even more enthusiastic than I was. He came with me to a private clinic, The Langland, where all the rich bitches go, to make an appointment. Which was for Tuesday of this week. The day after tomorrow.'

‘But you've changed your mind?'

‘Of course I've bloody changed my mind. Selena's death altered everything. Don't you understand that?'

I drew into the side of the road and stopped the car. She threw herself at me and I hugged her. And we both cried for a long time.

‘Laurie isn't upset that you changed your mind?' I asked at last.

‘No, he understands. And I understand that he doesn't want any part of it. He's very ambitious, doesn't want to be held back. Anyway, I shall prefer being on my own.'

‘You've told Paul and Francesca?'

‘No. You can do that. I can't seem to talk to those two.'

‘I think you'll have to. After all, they'll have to support you. Babies cost a lot of money.'

‘Think what they'll save in university fees. Anyway, they're generally all right about money. Francesca had all Grandfather's when he died last year and she can't have gone through it yet, though she's trying hard. I'm not going to start worrying about money. It's so... so demeaning.'

Is that what it was? Worrying about money? So... demeaning. What a pity my mother and I hadn't understood that. It could have changed our lives.

‘Did Selena know you were pregnant?'

There was another long silence, so long that I thought she intended to ignore the question. I started up the car and drove away.

‘I didn't tell her. I didn't want to worry her, especially as I'd already decided on an abortion. But I'm sure she knew. She always knew what I was up to. It might even have been the thing that tipped her over the edge.'

‘I don't think so,' I said, simply to comfort her. And before she could question this, added inconsequentially, ‘I had an abortion once and regretted it bitterly.'

I found myself telling her how surprised and excited I'd been at finding myself pregnant a few years ago, and how Paul's complete lack of enthusiasm had made me change my mind.

‘That's terrible,' she said. ‘I hope he regretted it too.'

‘I never told him about it. Not in so many words. Anyway, I was almost forty and my nerve failed me. I suppose the blame was all mine.'