Such is love (19 page)

Of Paula she had not seen very much during the last few weeks. Gwyneth tried very earnestly to keep in touch with her, and once or twice there had been quite long telephone conversations, but it was almost impossible, of course, for relations not to be slightly strained.

She gathered that Terry visited the house at Norbury now, and apparently he had made a good impression on the parents.

It looked as though Terry meant to follow a conventional and respectable path so far as Paula was concerned. And, in that case—odd though it seemed—^possibly Paula would be happier with him than with anyone else.

"One can't be wise for other people," Gwyneth thought. "It's difficult enough to be wise for oneself. And I suppose interference is more often harmful than helpful."

And so, for the moment, she left it at that.

When her mother arrived it was early afternoon. Van, of course, was not at home, and Toby was out with Betty. So there was an excellent opportunity, as her mother said, for a really long talk.

Mrs. Vilner settled herself comfortably on the settee and looked at her daughter penetratingly.

"Well, no doubt it's an unnecessary question," she began, "but I suppose this child is your own?"

Gwyneth pressed her lips together.

"Yes. Of course."

"Gwyneth, for a timid girl, you really do the most wildly rash things."

"Do I?"

"You know you do. I take it that Van hasn't the slightest idea of the truth?"

"Of course not. Not the slightest."

"Well, my dear, don't you ever think what sort of danger you're running? I don't know anybody else on earth who would venture to adopt her own child under the nose of her unsuspecting husband."

"The idea was Van's, as a matter of fact," Gwyneth said coldly, and there was a gleam of amused admiration in her mother's eyes at that.

"Really, Gwyneth, I begin to think I underestimate your cleverness," she exclaimed. "How did you manage that?"

"It wasn't "managing", exactly." Gwyneth frowned. "Van saw how terribly I wanted Toby and—and he really loves giving me anything that will give me pleasure, you know. Almost at once, too, he began to find Toby very attractive, himself, and now he loves him dearly."

"And he didn't suspect a thing at any point? How dense men can be!"

"But, Mother, why on earth should he suspect, when you come to think of it coolly? Who would think of anything quite so fantastic—especially in connection with his own wife? It's hard enough to believe such things happen to other people. It's almost impossible to think of them in one's own life. Sometimes I can hardly believe it myself," she added sadly.

"No? Well, in Van's position I should certainly have looked for some sort of explanation when a young woman, only just married, conceived an inexplicable desire to adopt some child she had seen only twice." , "It wasn't quite like that." Gwyneth spoke in a low voice. "And then I think he thought I was very deeply affected by the scene when Toby was nearly burnt. It was after that that he seemed to take it almost as a foregone conclusion that we should have him. I was at the orphanage, ill, for some time, you remember, and, of course, I saw a lot of Toby. So did Van. We—^we both grew fond of him. It followed fairly naturally. First we had him home on a visit, and then—then we couldn't part with him."

"You mean you couldn't."

"No, I think Van felt that way too. Anyway, it was he who actually suggested the adoption." She was faintly sur-

prised to realize that both times the suggestion had come from Van.

"And so now everything is satisfactorily settled?"

"Well, yes, I think it is." Gwyneth wished her mother wouldn't smile in that slightly scornful way, which seemed to suggest that she could scarcely believe her daughter was so ingenuous as to suppose everything was all right.

"And you're not afraid of Van finding out?"

"Why should I be—now?" Gwyneth's voice was slightly defiant.

"I don't know, my dear. You know best how well you have covered your tracks. But, in your place, I should far rather have left the child where he was than risk the absolute holocaust there would be if Van ever did find out."

Gwyneth was silent.

"Perhaps the risk is small—I hope it is—^but, though I am not a nervous woman, I must admit I should be haunted by the thought that it could happen, and that there would be remarkably httle left in life if it ever did happen."

Gwyneth shivered slightly. It was very true, of course.

"I don't think Van would choke you exactly, because he's a little too self-contained for murder, but I can't imagine he would stop very far short of it."

"And I don't think you know Van particularly well if you can talk like that! Are you trying to frighten me—

"No. But by the very insanity of the risk you have taken, you show that you have practically no appreciation of danger. I'm trying to warn you to be doubly, trebly careful."

"You need not bother." Gwyneth spoke very curtly. "I know the risks well enough. I know I'm living on the edge of a volcano. But I can't help it. I couldn't—I wouldn't— give up Toby. If I can have him only by risking all this— well then, I'm risking it. Do you suppose I don't hate it? Do you suppose I don't wonder every morning if I shall reach the end of the day without ruin overtaking me? But it's no good. It's that or losing Toby. I can't do without him now "

"You did without him very well for five years," her mother reminded her dryly.

"I know. But then I thought he was dead. That's a very different matter. When I saw him and knew him for the

dear, odd, loving little personality that he is, I couldn*t go on, knowing always that he was "an institution child", that he had no home, that he thought me a dear, pretty visitor who only came once every few months, but whom he wanted to follow about everywhere. I loved him, Mother. I couldn't leave him then."

"Well, my dear, it's your own life you're playing with, of course, so the whole thing is really your own business. It might not seem so dangerous with another type of man. But with Van " She broke off and shrugged.

"Van can be much gentler than you imagine," Gwyneth said in a low voice.

"Very likely. But I don't think you would find his gentleness much in evidence if he ever found out about your escapade."

Again Gwyneth was silent. If only Mother wouldn't keep on putting her own fears into words!

"Gwyneth." Mrs. Vilner spoke again in a rather different tone.

"Yes?"

Gwyneth glanced up to find her mother frowning thoughtfully.

"Is it your intention—^yours and Van's—^to put through a legal adoption, by and by? Not just let him stay on indefinitely, I mean, without putting things on an official basis."

"I'm sure it's Van's intention to have a formal adoption, though, to tell the truth, we haven't gone into everything very closely yet. We went down to the orphanage, of course, and explained to the Kellabys what we wanted to do. They were extremely kind and helpful, but they said—Dr. Kellaby said there was very little known about Toby. He only mentioned two things "

"And they were?" Mrs. Vilner spoke really sharply that time.

"That he understood the mother was a girl of good family. And I'm afraid, Mother, that he didn't like you."

"Oh—" Mrs. Vilner laughed shortly, "I suppose that was the Superintendent I interviewed. I had forgotten the name. I remember now—I didn't like him either. He had some absurd theory about it being best to leave the child with " She broke off. "Well, anyway, it doesn't matter

now. It's years ago." But Gwyneth saw that whenever Dr. Kellaby had said rankled still.

"Anyway, I'm glad," Gwyneth said slowly, "that Dr. Kellaby was human enough to think that—^that Toby's mother should have been allowed to keep him. For I suppose that was what you were going to say."

Mrs. Vilner didn't answer, and Gwyneth rather thought she could imagine the scene—Mother's 'surface charm' breaking down under the absurd suggestion that one should behave with something like real heart.

After a moment her mother spoke again.

"What happened when they looked up the child's registration, or whatever it is?"

"Nothing. Or rather, it never happened. Van was absolutely determined that we should make no investigations into Toby's very meagre little past. He felt very strongly that the less he knew about the—the real parents, the more he would feel Toby was his own."

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Vilner laughed incredulously. "You certainly have the most incredible luck, my dear. Either that or But no. That isn't possible, of course."

"What?" Gwyneth asked.

But Mrs. Vilner only shook her head. She still had a last word of warning for her daughter, however.

"Be very careful when you come to the actual legal adoption, my dear, because I believe some attempt is always made to obtain the consent of one at least of the real parents."

Gwyneth paled.

"Are you sure?'*

"No, not absolutely. They may dispense with that in the case of a child taken from an orphanage. I suppose they would have to, in some cases, where really nothing at all was known. But I wish you had thought of some of these pitfalls before you insisted on this crazy plan of having the child."

"If I had thought about them, I should never have had him," Gwyneth retorted harshly. "I couldn't afford to count the cost and lose my nerve before I had even begun. As it is, I must face each risk as it comes along."

Mrs. Vilner shrugged.

"That is the counsel of almost insane rashness. It means you're not even prepared for an emergency, Gwyn."

"Against what emergency can I prepare?"

Mrs. Vilner raised her eyebrows.

"Are you never afraid, for instance, that the child's own father might turn up?"

Gwyneth looked at her mother with a certain cold defiance.

"He has turned up," she said, at least as dryly as her mother had spoken.

Mrs. Vilner sprang to her feet, her astonishment and dismay galvanizing her into action.

"He has —and you sit there doing nothingi Are you quite crazy, Gwyneth? Have you no sense of danger at all?"

Gwyneth smiled—a little as her mother might have smiled in other circumstances.

"Do sit down again. Mother. How very odd—I seem to remember Aunt Eleanor once saying very much the same thing to you—about having no sense of danger. I must have inherited it from you, I think."

"You certainly did not." Her mother dropped back into her seat agaia, a little annoyed at having betrayed quite so much agitation. "I'm not a coward, but at least I don't invite danger and then sit back waiting for disaster to happen."

"Well, I didn't invite danger, if by danger you mean Terry. He simply came back into my life, whether I liked it or not—paying some doubtful sort of court to a young cousin of Van's."

"Good heavens, Gwyn, how unspeakably unfortunate!"

Knowing her mother, Gwyneth didn't suppose that she was the slightest bit exercised on behalf of the young cousin. She merely thought it dreadfully unfortunate that Gwyneth's own past should rear up beside her, threatening her preseiit wonderful security.

"What did you do?"

"I went, first of all, to see Terry. I tried to make him see that he must leave Paula alone—Paula was the girl, of course."

Mrs. Vilner gave a slight exclamation of despair that Gwyneth should have allowed herself to be so hopelessly sidetracked.

"He wouldn't hear of it—said he really held all the trump cards himself "

"Which was true, of course," interrupted Mrs. Vilner sharply.

Gwyneth shrugged.

"In a way, yes. He could ruin me. But then I could also ruin him, possibly put him within measurable distance of prison."

"Nonsense. That sort of man knows how to get away every time. I hope you weren't such a fool as to threaten."

"I suppose I did. I felt I must do anything to save Paula from what had happened to me."

"Good heavens, child, couldn't you leave the girl to look after herself?"

"Why?" Gwyneth's voice was extremely cold. "What sort of beast should I have been if—knowing what I did— I made no attempt to rescue her?"

"But if you scared him away, he was almost bound to take his revenge by exposing you."

Gwyneth was silent. She supposed that was all too true.

"Well, anyway, he refused to go," she said slowly at last. "Apparently his—^his real wife had died some time during the last few years. He likes Paula—^he isn't capable of loving, of course, but I think he genuinely likes her—and she will inherit a great deal of money. Actually, he would probably never do anything better for himself ihan marry her."

"Then"—Mrs. Vilner's expression became one of cool satisfaction—"then you mean that silence is just as important to him as to you?"

"Exactly."

"Oh, Gwyneth! And you had the sense to come to some arrangement about it—to keep quiet, too?"

"I came to no arrangement at aU," Gwyneth retorted sharply. "I couldn't let Paula go into that with her eyes entirely closed. I tried to make her understand something of what he was really like—explained that he had already treated me foully. I—I didn't tell her everything—about Toby, for instance. I made out that it was a case of— seduction." She closed her lips tightly on the hateful word.

Mrs. Vilner went quite pale, not because the word appalled her, but because she could scarcely bear to think

that Gwyneth had tried to throw her safety away, as she considered.

"Gwyneth, I sometimes think you don't deserve to escape danger," she exclaimed bitterly. "Can you never let well alone?"

"It wasn't "well". Mother," Gwyneth said dryly. "It was remarkably "ill". But, anyway"—she frowned and sighed impatiently—"Paula refused to believe me."

"She " Mrs. Vilner looked at her daughter in stupefaction. "Really, child, your father would say a special Providence looked after you, in spite of everythmg. It is as though even your own folly can't ruin you. Thank heaven this other girl seems to be even more stupid than you."

Gwyneth made a little grimace at this candour.

"I don't know about that. But, anyway, Terry had got there first with Paula—^told her some convincing story about my having fallen badly for him in my youth, and never having forgiven him for not returning my affection. He had even told her to be prepared tor some fantastic story from me—that I would stick at nothing in my jealous fury. I might as well have talked to the wind. Nothing short of Toby's birth certificate would have convinced her "