The Would-Begetter (37 page)

‘I don’t think that’s the point, Hector. It’s all to do with a lack of trust, and deceit and… things like that.’

Hector sighed deeply. ‘So, what now?’

‘I don’t know. That has to be between you and Wendy.’

‘But you won’t desert me, will you, Jess? After all, we go back a long way.’ He put his hand over hers on the table, and smiled into her eyes.

Jess withdrew smartly. ‘I’m sorry, I really ought to be off.’ She got to her feet and hung her bag over one shoulder.

‘But you haven’t finished your coffee.’

‘Sorry.’

‘But Jess – we should talk.’

‘So give me a ring, if you want to.’ Jess almost ran out of the room into the hall, and collided with someone carrying a bag. It was Hannah. ‘Ow!’

‘Sorry,’ Hannah said. ‘Are you going back to London?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wicked!’ Hannah said. ‘Can I cadge a lift?’

‘Yes of course!’

‘You’re not leaving me as well?’ Hector asked, looking desolate. ‘I thought you were happy here.’

‘Yeah, well you know…’ Hannah said.

“Bye Hector,’ Jess said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Then she and Hannah got into her car and drove off down the steep drive. Jess’s last sight of Hector in her mirror was of a forlorn figure standing alone outside his large house, with one hand raised in valediction.

‘Have a tissue?’ Hannah said, proffering one.

‘Thanks. Hold these for me a mo, will you?’ Jess took her glasses off one-handed, and blotted each eye in turn. ‘Are you Gwladys or Hannah these days?’

‘Hannah. Gwladys is totally
lame,’
Hannah said in disgust.

‘Oh,’ Jess said. ‘Good.’ She glanced sideways at Hannah’s profile. Her thin face was set in determination, but Jess could detect more than a little disillusionment in her expression as well. ‘So, why did you decide to leave?’

‘’Cos it was a bunch of arse there.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘He treated me like a bloody
skivvy,’
Hannah said. ‘Soon as Wendy stopped doing all the housework and cooking and stuff, Hector expected me to do it. ME! And he goes,’ (she put on an affected Hector-ish accent)
‘Normal communication with you appears to be quite impossible. Now if you were to attempt Standard English, we might get somewhere,
and I’m, like,
WHAT?’
She shook her head in disbelief. Jess pursed her lips firmly to stop herself from smiling.

‘Morgan will miss you?’ she suggested.

‘Morgan’s cool,’ Hannah assured her. ‘He won’t be that bothered. I’ll bet he’s still in his room right now, drawing away! Like, he knows where he’s at. He’ll be fine.’

‘Your mum will be overjoyed to see you.’

‘I doubt that.’

‘Oh Hannah, she
will.
She loves you to bits.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, really.’ Jess worried about how she would broach the subject of guilt, responsibility and Wendy, as she had promised, without upsetting Hannah, but it came up naturally sometime later, when they’d stopped for some food.

‘People can’t help being born?’ Hannah said, hesitating over a plate of egg and chips.

‘Of course not. Look, Hannah, Wendy asked me to give you a message.’

‘Yeah?’ Hannah looked wary.

‘She says what she did is absolutely NOT your fault, or Florian’s. It’s entirely between her and Hector.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes, honestly.’

‘Cool!’ She took a huge mouthful of chips, looked up at Jess and even smiled.

They made it back to London in good time, and Jess watched as Hannah ran up the steps to her front door, and straight inside without bothering to close it behind her. Then she heard, with satisfaction, Caroline’s delighted cry of
‘Hannah!’
before going down into her basement flat. Home at last.

For the next few days Jess was frantically busy catching up with her work, but each night before she went to sleep, she lay in bed and wondered where her life was going. Would she ever achieve a good relationship with a man, and have children with him? Or, were men an optional extra? She rather liked the idea of living alone, and taking lovers when she felt like it. Caroline certainly seemed to manage that sort of arrangement very efficiently, but then she never got emotionally involved with any of her men. Could I be so detached? Jess wondered. Would I even want to be?

Do I know what I really want? Do I actually hanker after children? I don’t believe I do, now. If I had some, I couldn’t possibly go on working the way I do. I think I’m beginning to come round to the idea that women ought to make a
choice
between having a career and having babies (women like Caroline and me that is, who have the luxury of choice). It doesn’t seem to work when people try to do both.

But what about this biological clock that’s supposed to be ticking away inside all of us women? Then she thought, it’s all nonsense – we’re just brainwashed into thinking that we’re not
fulfilled
unless we’ve given birth. That may well be a reality for the majority, but for a growing minority of us, it simply isn’t
true! She lay, staring into nothing for a while, and then she thought, I may not want children, but I do need something more than just work. I’d like a satisfactory emotional life, so I
do
need a man. But should it be someone like Hector? And on this question, and still irresolute, she fell asleep.

Caroline came round the following evening. ‘Thanks again for bringing Hannah home,’ she said. ‘I think I was too incoherent the other night to thank you properly. I’m just SO grateful.’

‘It was entirely her idea,’ Jess said. ‘I didn’t earn any brownie points.’

‘You OK?’

‘Just about,’ Jess said. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.’

‘What about?’

‘Oh, my life and what to do with it. The usual problems.’

‘And?’

‘No…’ Jess said slowly, ‘I can’t say I’ve come to any conclusions at all.’

‘You will,’ Caroline assured her. ‘I’ve always found the hardest decisions in life tend to be made
for
one, by circumstances. You just have to trust in the Fates. Anyway, I can’t stay. Just wanted to share two bits of good news.’

‘Yes?’ Jess encouraged her.

‘The first is that Vivian’s moving to London, so it looks as though I’ll be seeing more of him. The second is that I got that job!’

Jess rushed to hug her. ‘Congratulations!’

‘Thank you.’

‘You must be so chuffed!’

‘I am,’ Caroline said happily. ‘Now, must dash. I just had to tell you straight away.’

‘I am SO pleased,’ Jess called after her. The telephone rang and startled her. ‘Hello?’

‘Jess? It’s me.’

‘Oh Hector, how’s things?’

‘Dire. Look Jess, I really need to talk to you. Could I come up next weekend? Ideally I’d like to have made it this Saturday – the day after tomorrow – but it’s no good. There’s still too much Wendy and I have to sort out…’

‘But what’s wrong? Is Wendy ill again?’

‘No, just the opposite; she appears to have made a remarkable recovery. The doctors are delighted with her.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘She only wants a
divorce!
That’s what’s wrong. Honestly Jess, I just don’t know what to think. There’ve been so many times over the years when I would have jumped at the chance, but now… just when Morgan and I are getting on so well… I just don’t know what to do for the best. I really need to talk to you, Jessy-boot. There isn’t anybody else who understands me half as well. How about if I ring you tomorrow? I’ll have more time then.’

‘But… would it be such a good idea?’

‘Who cares! I’m drowning Jess, and you’re my only life-belt. Don’t let me down.’

‘Well, if you put it like that…’

‘Good on you,
cariad.
Who knows, this whole mess might be a blessing in disguise for both of us.’ Then he hung up.

Jess sat and frowned at the floor. Had Hector really meant what she thought he had? Was she wrong, or had she just been nominated as First Reserve, in the expectation of Wife No.1 retiring from the scene? She found the sudden possibility of actually getting what she (secretly) thought she’d always wanted daunting in the extreme. Then gradually, it began to grow on her.

Next evening, and every one after that, Hector telephoned, and they had long talks. Jess found herself inexorably drawn into the arguments which were raging between him and Wendy, and she was often confused, unsure which of them she felt the most sympathy for. Hector, of course, took it for granted that she would unhesitatingly side with him.

At first Jess got the distinct impression that it was only his self-esteem that was hurt, because Wendy wanted to divorce
him,
and that, had it been the other way around, he would have been much less upset. She gathered that Wendy had changed, and become assertive and distinctly unfeminine. Hector complained that, after all he had done for her, she was now rejecting him, and he didn’t understand it. Then later he seemed to be trying to convince himself that divorce might be the right thing to do after all, but only on condition that he would keep custody of his son.

‘Well of course I see your point,’ Jess said. ‘But Morgan’s fourteen now, isn’t he? In five or six years he’ll be grown up and leaving home anyway. And five years is nothing!’

‘So you do think divorce is the answer?’

‘No, Hector, I didn’t say that.’

‘I’m sorry, Jess. I know I shouldn’t ask. It isn’t fair. And I’m not trying to put pressure on you. I just love listening to the sound of your voice.’

She put the phone down after this conversation, sighing. There was no doubt about it, she was
fond
of the man. Perhaps eventually she and Hector…? After all, she would hate the thought of him being alone and miserable. And they had known each other for a long time, and they rubbed along together so easily and laughed at the same things… When you thought about it like that, it would be a lost opportunity if they ended up apart, wouldn’t it? Jess warmed to the idea.

But then a few days later, he said something unsettling. ‘Maybe I should jack-in Mudgeley Goggles and come to London to seek my fortune. I could lodge with you for a while, couldn’t I, Jess?’ And she had this alarming vision of Hector, permanently unemployed, bored rigid, needing constant attention, expecting regular meals, and hurt if she had to spend any time at all away working. And she felt the panic rising within her; found herself saying something sharp and unkind to him, like:

‘You’re a bit old to be Dick Whittington, aren’t you?’

So she alternated uncomfortably between these two extremes, looking forward almost fearfully to the impending weekend when Hector would arrive; wondering if she should cancel his visit, knowing that when she saw him, all her doubts and niggling feelings of caution and unease would probably be swept aside by the force of his personality, and the comfortable
safe
feeling of his companionship. But maybe that’s what I
need,
she mused. Or is it?

Then unexpectedly on Thursday, and again on Friday evening, Hector didn’t phone. Jess wondered what was going on. She debated whether she should ring him instead, but decided against it. It was a welcome breathing space.

On Saturday morning she woke with feelings of foreboding
and thought, Oh Lord! It’s today! However, it wasn’t Hector who arrived on her doorstep at noon.

‘Oh!’ Jess said, opening the door. Her welcoming smile dropped abruptly. ‘… Wendy?’

‘It’s OK,’ Wendy said. ‘Hector’s fine, and he knows I’m here.’

‘Oh… good.’

‘So, can I come in for a moment?’

‘Yes… sorry. I was just a bit surprised.’ Jess led the way inside. ‘Would you like a coffee or anything?’

‘Cup of tea’d be nice,’ Wendy said.

‘Come into the kitchen then.’

Wendy sat herself down at Jess’s scrubbed pine table. She had a new smooth, grown-up hairstyle. In fact she looked remarkably self-possessed. ‘I gather your job’s going well,’ she said. ‘Making lots of money.’

‘Not bad, yes,’ Jess admitted.

‘I fancy getting a job,’ Wendy said. ‘Part-time of course, because of Morgan.’

‘Good idea,’ Jess agreed. ‘I’m sure it’s a mistake for mothers to work full-time.’ She put Wendy’s tea down in front of her but remained standing, leaning against the wall.

‘You are?’ Wendy seemed surprised.

‘On reflection, yes.’

‘Poor Barry’s found he can’t even work part-time, you know? He nearly killed himself trying!’ Wendy made a gesture of self-mockery at the unintentional irony. ‘So he’s had to give up journalism altogether. Such a shame; he loved his job, did Barry.’

Jess wondered where all this was leading, but she bided her time. ‘Have you spoken to him?’ she asked.

‘Oh yes,’ Wendy said. ‘I’ve seen quite a lot of him just lately – wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help him, you know.’

‘And was there?’

‘Well, to be honest, not a lot. He’s so busy coping with all those kiddies, he hasn’t a moment to call his own. But he was pleased I tried.’

‘I’m sure he was.’

Jess drank her coffee and regarded Wendy over the rim of
her mug. Wendy put hers down, and looked straight up at her. ‘Hector’s been talking about marrying you, after our divorce goes through,’ she said.

‘Oh…!’ Jess said, startled by her directness.

‘Does that mean he hasn’t got round to asking you yet?’

‘Well… no. It’s news to me!’

‘But would you?’

‘No!… well, perhaps… Oh
I
don’t know!’ Jess felt exasperated.

‘Mmmm,’ Wendy said. ‘I thought as much. He was only trying to make me jealous. He’s been dead against divorce all along in actual fact, but then he’s a man – he has his pride.’ Jess nodded in a way she hoped was encouraging. ‘Course,’ Wendy went on, ‘I blame myself for a lot of our problems. When you’ve been together as long as me and Hector have, you get so’s you take each other for granted. But I’ve had plenty of time to think lately, and I reckon I haven’t been attending to his… needs… enough, if you understand my meaning?’ Jess nodded again, mutely. ‘So,’ Wendy said, warming to her subject, ‘we’ve made this mutual decision and I wanted you to hear it straight, face to face, so you’d understand. OK?’