Authors: Rita Bradshaw
The Rainbow Years (44 page)
She stared at his bent head. ‘Are you still drinking?’ she asked baldly. His lack of reply was all the confirmation she needed - that and his haggard looks. ‘Why?’
‘Why?’ He rose from the chair and walked across the room to the window and stood looking out for a moment or two before he spoke again. ‘Because I can’t stop.’ He swung round and looked at her.‘It’s a disease, a drug, worse than any opium den because it creeps up on you so gradually. Everyone has a drink, it’s part of social life, after all. We had watered-down wine as soon as our parents considered us old enough to join them at the dinner table.’
‘Your brother is not a drunk.’
She meant to shock him with her choice of words but if she did he gave no sign of it when he wearily agreed, ‘No, he isn’t. But neither is he weak or foolish.’
‘You all but ruined my life.’
‘I know.’
‘And you killed our baby.’
‘Amy -’ He broke off, moderating his voice when he said, ‘Please don’t. I . . . I don’t expect you to forgive me and I can’t forgive myself for what happened that night. It seems monstrously unfair that you’ve had to bear the consequences of that fall and always will.’
‘Yes, it does,’ she agreed steadily, her hands twisted tightly in her lap.
‘I’ve never stopped loving you.’
‘And I’ve never stopped loving our son. I never even got to hold him before they took him away.’
‘Amy . . .’ As he made a move towards her she jumped to her feet, her hands out in front of her, palms facing him.
‘Don’t, Charles. Look, I can’t do this now, not right now.’
‘You think I’m some kind of monster.’
‘No.’ She looked at him sadly. ‘Just weak, but that’s worse.’
‘You want a divorce.’
It was a statement not a question.
‘Yes, I do.’
‘The business went downhill fast after you left and I sold it before it became a liability. My brother invested the money for me and it’s done very well, possibly because I haven’t been involved in the decisions,’ he added with a touch of bitterness. ‘Anyway, what I’m saying is that your half will amount to a considerable—’
‘I don’t want your money.’
‘Don’t be silly, you’re my wife. You’re entitled to—’
Again she cut him off, her face flushed. ‘I don’t want anything except my freedom. I’ve managed perfectly well over the last years without your money.’
‘Amy, I can never give back what the surgeon took away but at least let me make some reparation. I’ve been drowning in guilt and shame for years.’
She gulped in her throat. She wanted to hate him. She felt she was letting her baby down by not hating the person who had caused his death, but now, with Charles standing in front of her, a broken man, she couldn’t. ‘I can’t discuss this now,’ she said. There was a torrent of tears inside her, but whether they were for her baby or Kitty and Ronald or Nick or even Charles she didn’t know.
‘No, of course not. I’m sorry about Kitty and your uncle.’ She let him think that was what she had meant and accepted his condolences with a stiff little bob of her head.
‘But we have to talk, Amy. You do see that.’
She nodded again.
‘When?’
‘I’ve got a forty-eight-hour leave this weekend,’ she said tensely. ‘I’ll come to the house on Saturday. You do still live in Ryhope?’
‘Yes, I do. It’s my link with you.’
She let that pass. ‘But let me make it perfectly clear that I don’t want anything from you, Charles. Not a penny.’
‘All right.’ He thrust his hands deep into his pockets, his face working. ‘But just come. Please.’
Charles remained standing exactly where he was for some moments after Amy had left the room, his thoughts in turmoil. He had always known she would be a beautiful woman when fully matured, he told himself, but the last few years had turned her into more than that. There was a presence about her, a dignity, and it was natural. It was so like her to refuse the money. The sight of her had twisted his heart until he’d found it hard to breathe normally. He sat down abruptly.
She hated him. Whatever she said, she hated him. And he deserved it. But to think of her with another man,
loving
another man. He put his hand over his eyes. He was still sitting like that when the CO returned a few minutes later.
loving
another man. He put his hand over his eyes. He was still sitting like that when the CO returned a few minutes later.
Chapter 23
‘
Amy!
Hey, wait. I’ve news!’ Bruce leaped out of the van he’d driven far too fast from the airfield just in time to prevent her boarding the bus to the train station on Saturday morning. He ran over to her, careless of the fact that he’d left the van in the middle of the road. ‘He’s all right, Nick’s all right. He landed in an orchard and as luck would have it, the farmer’s daughter’s in the Resistance and took him straight to a safe house.’
Amy!
Hey, wait. I’ve news!’ Bruce leaped out of the van he’d driven far too fast from the airfield just in time to prevent her boarding the bus to the train station on Saturday morning. He ran over to her, careless of the fact that he’d left the van in the middle of the road. ‘He’s all right, Nick’s all right. He landed in an orchard and as luck would have it, the farmer’s daughter’s in the Resistance and took him straight to a safe house.’
‘Oh, Bruce.’ They were both oblivious to the bus drawing away. Amy clutched hold of his hands. ‘When’s he coming home?’
‘Can’t say. They’re talking about getting him out via Spain but that’s all I know and even that’s hush-hush. Someone did me a big favour by telling me that much.’
Amy nodded, her eyes shining. Still holding tight to his hands, she said, ‘I’m sorry I’ve made things difficult between you and Nick, Bruce. I’ve been so selfish, I should never have asked you to keep such a thing from him.’
‘I don’t really understand why you were so adamant he mustn’t know. The fact that you were separated from Charles and had no intention of going back to him would have been enough for Nick if you’d told him you were married. He’s a man of the world, not some idealistic schoolboy who couldn’t have coped with the truth.’
She removed her hands from his and dropped her head. ‘That was only part of the truth, though.’
‘Part of it?’
‘Nick wants children, doesn’t he? It’s natural, most men do.’
‘Yes, I suppose he does. He’s said the odd thing about him keeping the Johnson name going now his brothers have gone, that sort of thing, when we’ve talked about surviving the war. Why?’
‘I can’t give him babies.’ Her voice rose with nerves. ‘I can’t get pregnant again, ever. When I had the miscarriage something went wrong due to the fall and they had to take everything away.’
Silence followed and when Amy raised her eyes to Bruce’s face, she saw he was staring at her with a stunned expression.
‘Oh, Amy,’ he said softly. ‘Amy, pet. So that was why you felt you had to get right away; it wasn’t only the miscarriage. Does Charles know?’
She nodded wordlessly.
‘I’m so sorry, lass.’ He reached out and drew her to him, putting his arms round her as she laid her head against his chest.
‘I thought the thing with Nick would fizzle out,’ she whispered. ‘He’s got a reputation for playing the field. I never expected he would want to get serious.’
She didn’t know her own worth, she never had, thought Bruce. It was probably all to do with the circumstances of her birth and upbringing, compounded by Charles’s treatment after they were married. Right at this moment Bruce wanted to throttle Charles Callendar.
‘You thought Nick wouldn’t want you any more if he knew it all?’ he asked softly.
‘Why would he?’ she said bleakly.‘He doesn’t have to forgo being a father, he could take his pick of women and have children. And I suppose I felt that I couldn’t tell him half of it, it was either all or nothing. And so I chose nothing.Which was wrong and unfair. For him, for you. I . . . I was just so happy and I didn’t want him to look at me differently, to see me as damaged goods.’
‘Stop that talk.’ His face was stern as he looked at her. ‘I know Nick. That thought wouldn’t enter his mind. He loves you and you love him. That’s all that’s important. He would want to take away your hurt and disappointment, to make up for what you’ve lost. That’s how I feel and I’m just your big brother.’
‘But it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to give up so much even if he loves me enough to do it.’
‘Do you trust him as well as love him, Amy?’
She nodded.
‘Then it’ll be all right. You have to tell him it all when he gets back.’
She nodded. ‘I will tell him. I don’t expect anything from him but I’ll tell him. And regardless of how things work out with Nick, I intend to set the wheels in motion about the divorce. I should have done it a long time ago but I’ve buried my head in the sand, I suppose.’
Bruce smiled. ‘It’s a very pretty head. Now climb in the van and I’ll drop you at the train station.’
They talked of Kitty and Ronald on the way to the station, of how happy Ronald had been for the last few years. Amy knew Bruce had thought the world of his da and it was some comfort to him to know he’d died a happy and fulfilled man. Bruce insisted on accompanying Amy into the station, and after she’d shown the stationmaster her free travel warrant he came onto the platform with her. As the train departed she hung out of the window calling, ‘Thanks, Bruce. And ask Gertie to be your lass properly. She loves you and you love her and time’s too precious to waste.’ She lost sight of him as the train gathered speed, billows of smoke from the engine hiding him from view. But at least she and Bruce were friends for fairs again. That was one good thing to come out of this horrible tangled mess. Probably the only good thing.
Amy reached the house just after one o’clock in the afternoon. She had been glad to leave the train, having been stuck in a carriage with two formidable ladies who for half the journey had bemoaned the fact the Government had banned the baking of white bread, before going on to the disgraceful lack of good clothing material available since the war. Considering both women were dressed to the nines in fur coats and hats, the restrictions seemed barely to have touched their lives.
Amy took a taxi from Central Station, deciding she couldn’t stand a prolonged tram journey. Now she was here in Sunderland she wanted to get the visit over as quickly as possible and return to the air base. If she wasn’t in time for the last train, she would book into a hotel overnight, but she didn’t really want to remain in the town if she could help it.
Large craters and blitzed buildings bore evidence to the fact that the Luftwaffe had been busy in the north-east, but Ryhope was dozing in bitterly cold March sunshine when the taxi drove up the drive of the home she had left a hundred years before - or that was what it felt like. After she had paid the driver and the taxi had disappeared, she stood on the drive for some moments. She had been utterly bereft when she had last seen this place, she thought, glancing round at the neat hedges and recently dug flowerbeds. Were they planted with vegetables in accordance with the Government’s urging, or a profusion of flowers as had been the case when she had lived here? And then she shook her head at her capriciousness. Why was she thinking of vegetables and flowers at a moment like this? she asked herself. She was going doolally.
Her heart beating so hard she felt it would jump out of her chest, she made her way to the front door and, ignoring the bell, brought the brass knocker down twice on the wood. And then she jumped back, her glove smothering what would have been a startled cry when the door was immediately flung open.‘You made me jump.’ She looked at Charles accusingly.
‘I was in the hall.’ He stood to one side, waving her into the house. ‘I’ve been in the hall since eleven o’clock waiting for you to come. Pathetic, isn’t it?’
She didn’t answer this. She could smell the stale whisky on his breath and knew he had been drinking the night before.‘I want a divorce, Charles. I’m here to discuss a divorce and nothing else.’
‘I know.’ He rubbed his hand over his mouth. ‘Come into the drawing room and sit down while I fetch the coffee tray. I have a daily now, Mrs Riley, she works from eight to midday and prepares my evening meal. She got the tray ready before she left today. There’s a sponge cake but I’m afraid it’s made with dried egg. She would have—’
‘Charles, please.’The tone of her voice stopped his gabbling. Amy took a deep breath. ‘I don’t want coffee, thank you. I want us to sit down and talk.’
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