Distant Voices

by Barbara Erskine

  Months passed. Spring slowly began to shade the trees and take the edge off the coldness of the mornings. Anxiously now, she counted off the weeks, waiting, hoping, each time again disappointed.

  Derek seemed more relaxed and happy to see her happy, and he brought her more and more presents – but he came less often to see her.

  There was always a busy time at his office in the spring, she remembered from last year, or thought she did. The excuses he gave his wife of working late, of seminars and conferences, were now true, as he assured her, for these few months. Tina missed him dreadfully, but still, there were the afternoons. One day a week he managed to slip away for a couple of hours. They would stay in her flat, turning their backs on the glory of the spring outside, lying close in her shady bedroom, both too conscious of the alarm they had to set to remind them when their time was up.

  She had almost given up hope when at last it happened. A month stretched out to five weeks – six – seven. Breathless with excitement she waited, counting the days, wondering when she dared tell him.

  At last she could wait no longer. He was surprised when she greeted him at the door of her flat, fully dressed; for the past weeks she had worn a kimono or a negligée, playing the part of his mistress to woo him. He smiled, pleased to see her excited, and he accepted the drink she had ready. The windows were wide open and they could hear the steady roar of traffic below, though all they could see was the foaming beauty of the horse chestnuts on the pavements.

  ‘You look very smart today,’ he said, glancing at her bright skirt and fashionable sandals. ‘Do you want to go out somewhere?’

  She shook her head. She had grown her hair long to please him and it swung heavily round her shoulders. He longed to take a handful and feel the weight of it in his palm. He turned away and took a sip of his drink.

  ‘I’ve something to tell you, Derek. I hope you’re going to be pleased.’ She hesitated. Not until that moment had it crossed her mind that he might be anything but happy at what she had done. She swallowed and glanced down at the floor. The sun was shining in through the leaves outside, throwing a moving fretwork of patterns on the rich pile of the carpet. Derek’s carpet.

  ‘What is it, Tina?’ He was watching her, amused at her sudden confusion. Not guessing.

  She looked up and took a deep breath. ‘I am going to have your baby.’

  There was a long hush in the room. Even outside the road was empty for a moment as the traffic was halted by some distant red light. Then the deep throbbing roar of a bus passed, the high red roof brushing beneath the branches, shaking the tree so some of the blossom fell.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure?’ He sounded appalled.

  Shaken, she looked away. ‘Well, I’m nearly sure. I haven’t had a test or anything, but …’

  ‘Then you must.’ All at once he was solicitous. Not for the first time he reminded her of her father. ‘Once we know we’ll be able to decide what to do.’

  ‘But, Derek! Surely there’s nothing to decide.’ She could feel a strange coldness gripping her stomach as she looked at his face. ‘Your wife will give you a divorce at once if she knows about the baby. You know she will. Then we can get married and –’

  ‘No!’

  He set down his glass and walked over to the window, looking down at the street below. ‘I am sorry, Tina. Perhaps I haven’t made myself dear. As you hadn’t mentioned it for so long I thought you had decided to accept the situation. There can be no question of a divorce.’

  ‘But you wanted a baby. You told me you wanted a baby.’

  ‘I want my wife’s baby, Tina.’ His voice was gentle. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, if you misunderstood the situation, but I really don’t see how you could have. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I wanted a family.’

  ‘That’s why I wanted to get pregnant.’ Her voice was small.

  He swung round on her. ‘You mean you did it deliberately?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Christ!’ He hit his forehead with the flat of his hand. ‘Oh, Tina, I am so sorry. But it cannot be. Not like that. You must get rid of it. I know it’s hard, but … there’s nothing else to do.’

  ‘No, Derek.’ She spoke quietly, suddenly calm. ‘Your wife has everything. You; a proper home; your name. This baby is all I have of yours. I don’t care how hard it is, but it’s happened, and I shall keep it.’

  ‘You can’t, Tina!’

  ‘Try and stop me!’ She was angry now and very bitter. ‘It’s my decision, Derek.’

  ‘Then it would be the end of us, Tina. I am not prepared to run a second family behind Janet’s back.’

  ‘Oh no,’ she held back her tears with difficulty. ‘Yet you were quite prepared to run a mistress for two years.’

  She turned away from the sunny room and from him and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Left alone he groped for his cigarettes and shook one out of the packet, his hands trembling. Then he stood looking down out of the window, watching the cars go by. It was nearly four. In five minutes he would have to go back to the office.

  He glanced towards the bedroom which was quite silent; he had dreaded the sound of sobbing. With a sigh he stubbed the scarcely smoked cigarette out in the ashtray and quietly he let himself out of the flat.

  Tina heard the front door close as she lay on her bed. She wasn’t crying. She felt too shocked and disappointed for that; too numb perhaps to register what had happened. It was a long time before she got up. She kicked off her sandals and wandered listlessly back into the sitting room. The sun had sunk behind the roofs opposite and the room was in shadow now. She could hear a blackbird whistling from the trees, its song clear over the roar of traffic.

  She sat down at the table and drew a piece of paper towards her slowly. She had never written to Derek before; it had been part of their understanding.

  ‘My Darling Derek,’ she wrote, her hand shaking a little as she thought out what she was going to say to him. ‘I am so sorry that I misunderstood what you wanted. I truly thought that it would make you happy. Please forgive me. We have had such a lovely two years together – and I love you so much. I could not bear it to end like this. I want very badly to keep the baby, but I promise I will make no claims on you now or in the future. Just love us a little, and keep in touch. You will have my love always, Tina.’

  Slowly she read it through, then she folded it into the envelope and addressed it to his home. She thought for a moment and then wrote Private, on the top of the envelope.

  She ran to the box with the letter before she could change her mind, and then slowly walked back to the flat.

  It was very hard to sleep that night. She lay tossing and turning on the bed in a turmoil of indecision and misery. Each time she dozed off she thought she heard Derek’s voice but then as her eyes flew open in the dark she knew she was alone and that he had left her. ‘But I have the baby,’ she thought, hugging herself. His baby. The pillow was hot. She turned it over and beat it desperately with her fists. Her eyes were sore. They wanted sleep as much as she. She got up and wandered into the kitchen where the tiles were cool beneath her feet and she poured herself a glass of milk.

  She began to shiver as she sipped the cold milk. For the first time Derek had shown her, without a shadow of doubt, that if it came to choosing between Janet and herself, he would stay with Janet, whatever happened.

  ‘He’s a coward,’ she whispered furiously at the half-lowered blind across the dark window. ‘A coward and a liar.’ She did not let herself think she might have been wrong.

  Strangely, she fell asleep almost at once when she got back into bed, and slept for a few hours, dreamlessly. When she woke it was just beginning to get light. The street was quiet except for the tentative notes of one or two of the first birds in the dawn. She wondered for a moment what had awakened her. Then she knew. The familiar aching pain in the small of her back. The knotted cramp in her stomach. ‘Oh no.’ She leaped out of bed. ‘Please God, no.
’ Trembling she switched on the bedside lamp and pulled back the blanket. There on the sheet was the small tell-tale patch of blood. There was no baby. There never had been.

  THE MAN

  It was winter. The garden lay beneath a crisp layer of frost, grey-green and unreal in the glittering sun as Derek made his way to the breakfast table. His wife, already seated, pouring out the coffee, glanced up with a smile. ‘Hello you. You’re going to be late again if you’re not careful.’

  ‘What about you, then?’

  ‘Me, too.’

  He went by car, she, hating the traffic, by train. They were both silent for a while, then she looked up. ‘Is it tonight that you’re working late again? I might stay up in town and do some shopping; perhaps even go to a show.’

  He frowned, a little shamed by her tolerance. ‘Janet, I hate leaving you on your own so often, I really do.’ He meant it.

  He reached for the toast rack. A piece of toast fell on the cloth in a shower of crumbs and he laughed a little uneasily. ‘I’m lucky you understand. Not many men have high-powered business women for wives.’ He intended it as a compliment, but at once she frowned.

  ‘Don’t let’s go into that now, Derek, for goodness’ sake. I’m fed up with hearing how high-powered I am. You know damn well it’s just a job, same as thousands of other women do.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Irritated, he dug the knife into the butter dish. ‘It’s just that thousands of other women manage to combine careers with families these days.’ He pushed his chair back abruptly, so that it caught on the rush matting on the kitchen floor and nearly fell sideways.

  ‘I don’t happen to like children, Derek.’ Her voice was energetically patient. ‘For God’s sake, do we have to discuss it every day? I love my job. I made it quite clear before we married how I felt; I didn’t deceive you in any way; I’ve been telling you every day for the last eight bloody years! How many more times must I tell you?’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me at all. Please, let’s not quarrel.’ He went to put his arm round her, dropping a kiss on her head. ‘I’m sorry. I never mean to bring the subject up.’ He laughed uneasily. ‘I must be feeling old again; seeking the immortality of sons, or something.’

  Was it that? After all, Janet was only thirty-two and there was plenty of time for her, but he, well, he was nearly twice her age. He frowned as he opened the garage doors and slowly backed down the drive, watching the clouds of exhaust wreathing back over the car, enveloping him in a personal, isolating fog. He backed cautiously into the road and swung round towards London. Or was it that he was jealous of Janet’s independence? It irked him a little, he had to admit, that she could afford to go off and buy things, big things, for the house for instance, without having to ask him for money. He had always liked the idea – it seemed romantic and cosy, of couples, young couples, putting their heads together to discuss things; working out budgets, agonising and saving and choosing, together. It must bring them close.

  He swore as he reached the level crossing. The barrier was falling and that meant that he would have to wait for at least three commuter trains in quick succession. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. Then he thought of Tina.

  With her he was the one who did the buying without consultation. He produced the goods for her flat with beneficence, feeling big because of it although he knew she would like to go out and choose with him sometimes; but he shied away from the idea. That would be too near the bone. Too much like setting up home together. It would admit to a permanence he denied.

  He often cross-examined himself guiltily about Tina and he always came to the same conclusion. He was fond of her of course. He found her attractive and her home a refuge and a convenient pied-à-terre in London, but when he was not with her he liked to think that she probably ceased to exist; or rather that she became someone quite different; someone confident, poised, invulnerable and whole.

  His conscience would never quite face the idea that she lived and loved for him alone. Once or twice he had taken the idea out, so to speak, examined it cursorily, and put it away again as being too uncomfortable to peruse further.

  Two trains flashed by in opposite directions, their windows crossing like the flicks of a camera shutter, each hiding and revealing a microcosm of life behind the condensation, and then the barrier arm slowly began to rise. Derek checked his watch as he carefully pressed down the accelerator pedal. Late again.

  He was due to meet Tina at six. It was a cold evening. Wet. The sleet, frosty and clean in the country, was unpleasant and depressing in London and he sighed a little, almost wishing he could go straight home to relax by the ash-whitened logs which Janet always kept burning in the evenings, regardless of the extra work it gave her.

  Then he saw Tina, early as she always was, waiting in the foyer of his offices, sheltering from the cold, and his heart gave a little lift. Her dark hair was streaked blue-black by the rain, and swung loosely on her shoulders, still disarrayed by the scarf she had torn off as she came in.

  ‘Hello Tina. Have I kept you waiting?’ When her eyes met his he knew why he let it go on like this. He could never cease to be haunted by the clear grey honesty and the uncomplicated worship he saw there. And she made him feel young.

  She put on the sodden scarf again, and turned up her coat collar, then he pushed the circular door for her, watching benevolently as like a child she half ran, her hand on the glass, until she was ejected breathless onto the front steps. She turned to him and laughed happily, watching as he followed.

  Later, after the film, they both had soupe du jour. It was thick and hot and full of leeks. She always put salt in her soup regardless and it irritated him slightly that she didn’t taste it first, but he said nothing. It was her evening. ‘Did you enjoy the film?’ he asked, watching as a strand of her hair strayed for a moment across her nose. She blew it off, suddenly gamine. ‘I loved the bit where he chased after everyone in the car. That was really exciting!’

  ‘Do you think I should drive like that?’ He smiled tolerantly, reaching out to brush her hand quickly with his own.

  She looked wistful. ‘No one could drive like that in a staid saloon like yours, Derek! I wish you had a sports car!’

  ‘Oh I’m too old for that! I had one when I was twenty.’ He laughed a little wryly, not minding the joke against himself, but she, who was twenty, looked stricken. Once more he wished she would acknowledge the difference in their ages and laugh about it as Janet did, instead of constantly pretending it didn’t exist.

  ‘We must plan our day in the country, my dear,’ he went on easily, reassuring her. ‘I rather thought Burnham Beeches might be nice. What do you think?’

  Janet had told him only a week ago about her conference and he had been hurt and angry. It was bad enough that her work encroached in the evenings sometimes, but to deprive him of a whole weekend! It had been to get his own back on Janet that he had rung Tina and the excitement and happiness in her voice when he suggested spending the two days together had soothed him a little, restoring his self-confidence.

  The waiter had begun to hover again and he sighed. He wanted to linger. ‘More coffee, Tina?’ He smiled to hide his irritation.

  She shook her head, and glancing at the waiter she leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, ‘Let’s have it at my place.’

  Surreptitiously he glanced at his watch. It wasn’t all that late. Perhaps he could stay for half an hour before driving home through the rain. Hunting for his glasses he turned to the waiter and beckoned for the bill.

  He loved the way she left the fire and the side-lamp switched on in her flat. Once or twice at the beginning he had reproached her for her extravagance but she had been so hurt that it had dawned on him she did it for him and he had been very touched. It didn’t cross his mind it might cheer her too, should she have to return alone.

  He sat down in the chair by the fire, relaxing, and glanced round the room while she was in the kitchen, making the coffee. It
was comfortable and happy, if a little threadbare. He closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh of contentment. If only he could do something about it – buy her something new perhaps. He squinted down at the worn carpet and had an idea. For a moment she looked crestfallen when he suggested it and he was taken aback; he went into the kitchen and helped himself to the Scotch she had poured him. ‘I love the room, Tina,’ he murmured awkwardly. ‘I thought it might cheer you up when I’m not there, that’s all …’

  She turned and flung herself into his arms, spilling his drink. Putting down his glass, he drew her close to him, feeling the accustomed longing as he smelled the fragrance of her hair. He glanced cautiously at his watch behind her head and swore soundlessly. There was no time.

  At the surreptitious movement of his hand which freed the watch from his sleeve he felt her body tense. She knew what he was thinking and she resented it. She pushed him away. He could see the tears welling in her eyes. He knew what was coming and he braced himself, picking up his glass. It was weeks since she had mentioned Janet and divorce and all the unhappy, unmentionable things which would throw him into a panic and force him to realise how the situation could not be allowed to go on. Once, in a foolish unforgivable moment of self-pity he had mentioned the fact that Janet refused to give him any children and she had seized on the fact and nursed it and now, every so often, she would bring it up and throw it at him, imagining it to be a lever against her rival.

  She pushed past him, still sobbing, and flung herself on her knees near the fire. He shook himself wearily. What was she saying? Something about Janet understanding. How naive could she get?

  Then she was getting to her feet again, her mood inexplicably gone as fast as it had come. She smiled gently, her face serene. ‘You’re tired.’ She kissed him as he nodded.

  ‘Perhaps I had better go, Tina. It is late and it’s a long drive.’