Lifetime Burning

by Gillard, Linda

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you still?’

  ‘Yes… Yes, I do.’

  Hugh bowed his head. Eventually he said, ‘I know I’ve been… inadequate in some respects. I want you to know that I won’t put any obstacles in your way if you want to make a fresh start. That is,’ he added, raising anxious eyes to her, ‘If you’ll allow me to continue as Theo’s father. His nominal father at least.’

  ‘You’re not the obstacle, Hugh. You never have been. You were meant to be my salvation.’

  ‘And I failed you.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. I think I was damned from birth,’ Flora said, staring vacantly into space. ‘Damned by my birth.’

  ‘Has this man refused to divorce his wife?’

  Her sudden laughter was harsh. ‘I’ve never asked him to! There’d be no point. He can’t live with me. He doesn’t even want to acknowledge Theo as his.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It would ruin his career. I think he’d really prefer to disown us both and just get on with his life.’

  ‘You say I know this man?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will you please tell me who it is?’ Flora didn’t answer. ‘If I’m to continue to be Theo’s father in name and spirit, if I’m to be financially responsible for him, I think I probably have a right to know whose child he is.’

  Flora tugged at her damp handkerchief. ‘Yes… I suppose you do.’

  ‘Flora, my dear, tell me - who is it that you love?’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Hugh - just look at Theo’s face! Who do you think is his father!’

  ‘I’ve no idea! I’ve always thought Theo was the image of you!’ Flora stared at Hugh, her eyes wide, imploring. Hugh swallowed, then whispered, ‘Rory?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Rory?’

  ‘Who else could it be? Who else have I ever loved? Who else has ever loved me?’ She covered her face with her hands and began to sob.

  Hugh repeated the name, as if in a trance. ‘Rory…’

  ‘Yes, Rory! I’ve loved him all my life and I always will! We made love just the once and I got pregnant. I didn’t know what to do,’ she whimpered. ‘I couldn’t pretend it was yours because we hadn’t made love for months. I was going to get rid of it, then I thought, this might be the only child I ever have! In any case, I couldn’t kill Rory’s child, not after Grace lost theirs. I saw that dead creature, Hugh. I couldn’t do that to my baby! Rory wanted me to have an abortion, but I refused. So he told me what to do… I got very drunk and just about raped you. Perhaps you remember! It was the day I fainted at Orchard Farm. You’d been working in the garden.’

  ‘Yes, I remember… I remember it very well.’

  ‘Seven months later, Theo was born.’

  Hugh sat perfectly still as he digested this information, then asked, his voice unsteady now, ‘Did you ever love me, Flora?’

  ‘Yes. At least, I thought I did. I genuinely thought what I felt for you was love, but now I don’t know. It felt so different from what I felt for Rory, so I thought it must be love. I was young, inexperienced… I’d had very few boyfriends and none of them meant anything to me. Not compared with my brother. As for sex - I hadn’t a clue. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel, what I was supposed to do, or let men do. I had no idea that what I felt for Rory was… sexual. Not till after I married you. But even then I thought you would save me. You were so big and strong, so very handsome. So good. But…’ She started to weep again. ‘You weren’t interested in me! Perhaps if we’d been physically close, Hugh, things might’ve been different, perhaps the marriage might have worked.’

  ‘Yes… I’m sorry. I let you down.’

  ‘Why on earth did you marry me if you felt no love for me, no desire for me?’

  Hugh leaned back wearily in his armchair and closed his eyes. After a while he spoke. ‘When I married Miriam I’d never been in love. I had no sexual experience other than what might be acquired at a boys’ boarding school. I was a virgin as far as women were concerned. Miriam was also a virgin. I knew she loved me very much and I was convinced I loved her, but I didn’t really know how to love her physically. What was worse, I found I didn’t really want to. After she died I became depressed and lonely. My life seemed empty. Then I met you. Our friendship developed and… I found I was captivated by you, Flora. You were so full of life, yet so vulnerable, so trusting. I wanted to look after you. Protect you. I was convinced what I felt for you was love.’

  ‘But it wasn’t.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t. Not love in the sense you mean. Not the kind of love that makes a marriage work.’

  ‘When did you realise you didn’t love me, Hugh?’

  He closed his eyes and didn’t answer.

  ‘Hugh? Answer me.’

  ‘Oh, my dear… I never wanted you to know.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘I realised I didn’t love you when… when I finally fell in love. With someone else.’

  Flora gasped as if she had been struck. ‘When was that?’

  Hugh gripped the arms of his chair with both hands and said softly, ‘After we’d become engaged. Some time before we married.’

  ‘Before? You… you bastard!’

  Hugh closed his eyes. Steeling himself, he opened them again, looked at Flora and said, ‘I went ahead with our marriage because… because I was confused. I thought I was probably imagining things, that maybe I was ill. Like you, I’d fallen in love with someone quite unsuitable. Unlike you, my love wasn’t returned. I knew you needed me, I thought you loved me. In my naïvety, I believed that was enough. I thought we could make the marriage work somehow. I really wanted to make it work, Flora! But I knew very little about love. And nothing at all about desire.’

  Hugh looked down at his hands, clasping the arms of the chair. Rope-like veins protruded from his skin, marked now with brown age-spots, tanned and dry from working in the garden. He thought suddenly how old his hands looked, how ugly and worn - the hands of an old man. Hugh smiled at the ridiculousness of it all: an old man, speaking of first love. He thought perhaps God did have a sense of humour after all.

  He raised his head but looked away from Flora. ‘If you’d asked me whether love at first sight was possible, I would have said, no. Categorically. How can such a thing exist? Can it be anything more than just a strong sexual attraction? But when it happened to me, it didn’t feel like mere sexual attraction - although, God knows, the sexual undercurrent was there… like an electric shock… Waves coursing through my body. I felt ambushed. Completely taken by surprise. What is it the French say? Bouleversé. A marvellous word! I felt the impact in my groin but also in my chest. I couldn’t breathe…’ He frowned as if he didn’t quite believe his own testimony. ‘Couldn’t tear my eyes away, even though I knew I was probably making a spectacle of myself. I thought if I could touch, if I could hold, be held, I would somehow be made whole. It was almost a religious experience. A revelation, a true epiphany.’

  Hugh’s enormous hands started to shake. He looked down and clasped them firmly in his lap, his knuckles whitening. ‘I was forty-one. I’d never known love. Never allowed myself to feel desire. Then one day I walked into a room and… it was as if my world changed from black and white to colour.’ He smiled. ‘Like in The Wizard of Oz. It was as if my real life had begun. I’d finally found someone I loved. Someone I loved - dear God, forgive me - more than God.’

  ‘Who was she Hugh?’

  He passed a hand over his face, dragging at his jaw muscles, then sat with his hands folded again, quite still. His chest rose and fell as he steadied his breathing, then said abruptly, ‘It wasn’t a she…’ Flora’s hand went to her mouth and she stifled a sound. ‘It was your brother. It was Rory.’

  Flora shook her head from side to side. ‘No… No…’

  ‘I think I would rather have died than tell you,’ he said solemnly. ‘But since Rory is Theo’s father you probably needed to know. So that you can
understand how very… difficult all this is for me. More difficult than perhaps you’d imagined.’ He looked into her eyes, his voice faint now, but level. ‘And I wanted you to know that although I may never have loved you, I - of all people - will never judge you.’

  They sat in silence while Flora wept. Hugh made no move to comfort her, knowing his touch would be the final insult. Flora looked up suddenly as a thought occurred to her, a thought that turned her tear-stained face ashen.

  ‘Does Rory know?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Hugh smiled ruefully. ‘Rory knows. Rory has always known.’

  1965

  Rory sauntered through the garden, past Dora who was still fast asleep in her deckchair. He put his head round the door of the greenhouse then reeled back from the wall of humid heat. ‘Dad, I’m going to lift some potatoes. Will the border fork be in the shed?’

  Archie was wrestling with a ball of twine and wayward tomato plants. ‘Aye, behind the door. And be sure and put it back. Is Flora feeling any better now?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. She’s taking a nap.’

  ‘Good, good,’ Archie replied. ‘You mind your hands now. Wear gloves.’

  ‘I will.’

  Rory collected a fork and a large bucket from the shed and set off for the vegetable garden.

  The first time Hugh passed through the vegetable garden with the grass box Rory looked up, raised a hand in greeting but carried on digging. On his way back Hugh stopped to comment on the glorious weather. Rory leaned on his fork, removed a gardening glove and pushed hair wet with sweat out of his eyes. He said it looked as if there was going to be a good potato crop this year. Hugh looked pleased and strode up the path, swinging his empty grass box. Rory bent again to his task.

  He’d intended to remove his T-shirt, so the fierce heat of the sun was welcome, but he hadn’t realised how much he would sweat from the arduous labour of lifting potatoes. Despite the gloves, his palms stung, heralding blisters to come. Rory swore methodically under his breath.

  When the lawnmower stopped again Rory thrust his fork into the ground and hung his T-shirt over it. He walked over to the garden bench on the path and sat down. Hugh appeared shortly with the full grass box and walked past Rory without comment. When he returned Rory had extended his legs across the path and was sitting with his face turned up towards the sun, his eyes closed, his arms extended along the back of the bench in a sedentary crucifixion pose. He felt a shadow fall across his body and his damp skin began to cool rapidly. Rory opened his eyes, looked up and beamed at Hugh.

  ‘D’you want to sit down?’ He slid along the bench.

  Hugh hesitated a moment then said, ‘Perhaps I will. That mowing has taken it out of me. Not as fit as I once was,’ he laughed.

  ‘You still look pretty fit to me.’ As Hugh sat down Rory altered his position so that his bare forearm brushed Hugh’s briefly. ‘You play tennis, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Not very well, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I’ll give you a game some time.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m really in your league, to judge from what Flora says.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. A man your height must have a hell of a serve. But, yes, I’ll probably beat you. I’m left-handed you see. It throws people.’ Rory turned his head and stared at Hugh. ‘They don’t really know how to play me… But I expect you’re a good loser, aren’t you?’ The two men were silent for a while, then Rory continued, ‘I went to see Flora just now. She’s feeling a lot better.’

  ‘Is she? Jolly good. I’ve been worried about her. She’s been a bit under the weather lately.’

  ‘Has she?’

  ‘Yes. Not her usual self. Tired all the time.’

  Rory opened his eyes wide. ‘Really? Now you come to mention it, she has seemed a bit… subdued.’

  ‘Has she?’

  ‘Oh yes. Compared to the old Flora.’ Rory paused. ‘She doesn’t smile a lot these days, does she?’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear you say that. I hadn’t realised quite—’

  ‘You might be forgiven for thinking she wasn’t actually very happy.’ Rory turned to face Hugh. ‘Now why would that be, I wonder?’

  Hugh returned Rory’s level gaze but his voice was unsteady. ‘What are you driving at?’

  ‘Well, you see, Hugh, I know my sister really well. She doesn’t need to tell me things, I just know. And I know she’s not happy. In fact she’s pretty much broken-hearted. And I know why.’

  ‘I don’t understand… What has Flora said?’

  ‘Nothing. She doesn’t need to. Because I already know. I know about you, Hugh.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  As Rory stood up he glanced along the path, back towards the house. ‘I know why you aren’t making Flora happy.’ He stood in front of Hugh and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans so that the weight of his arms pulled them lower, as he’d known they would. He watched Hugh’s eyes move involuntarily as they travelled over his body. When they eventually found his face, Rory bent his head and pressed his parted lips to Hugh’s.

  He straightened up slowly. ‘That’s why my sister’s not happy, Hugh. That’s why you’re not happy.’

  Hugh sat motionless, staring at the ground. Then his broad shoulders sagged, he leaned forward on the bench and covered his face with grass-stained hands. Rory thought afterwards it was like watching a tree being felled.

  ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Since we first met.’

  From the top of an old apple tree a thrush launched into joyful song, piercing a long silence. Hugh looked up, his dark eyes stricken, his cheeks wet. ‘What is it that you want from me, Rory? I know you don’t want me.’

  ‘I want you to make Flora feel loved.’ He shifted his weight casually on to one leg, tilting his hips and folding his arms across his bare chest. ‘How hard can it be, Hugh?’ His smile was seraphic. ‘To make her happy, I mean. Do it. For Flora’s sake. Or mine. I’d appreciate it.’

  ‘What’s in all this for you?’ Hugh asked wearily. ‘Or were you the sort of boy who liked to pull the wings off butterflies to see if they could still fly?’

  ‘I love my sister. I want to see her happy.’

  ‘You believe I can make her happy?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Rory said sharply. ‘I’ve never thought that. But making her pregnant would be a step in the right direction. If she can’t have a husband - a proper husband - you could at least give her a child.’

  ‘Does Flora know… about me?’

  ‘No. I don’t think anyone knows apart from me. You disguise it very well. But then you must’ve had years of practice.’

  ‘No, I haven’t. I had no idea. It’d never occurred to me that I - it wasn’t until I met you… that I realised. Things fell into place. And I understood myself.’

  ‘You should have told Flora.’

  ‘Yes, I should.’

  ‘Or at least called off the engagement.’

  ‘Yes. But I didn’t really understand what was happening. Not then. I thought perhaps it was just something to do with you being twins. I still loved Flora, you see! I love you both. In different ways.’

  ‘It isn’t love.’

  ‘It is. What I feel for Flora is love.’

  ‘I meant what you feel for me.’

  ‘What makes you think you know what I feel for you, Rory?’

  He shrugged. ‘The way you look at me.’

  Hugh’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. ‘I can’t deny that my feelings for you incorporate a degree of common or garden lust. But there’s a lot more to it than that. I’m forty-four. I’m a priest. I was a monk. I feel other kinds of love for you. Pastoral. Fraternal. Perhaps I should say paternal. A small part, an ignoble part of me wants to possess you, Rory, but the better part of me wants much more than that.’

  ‘What, exactly?’

  Hugh looked up into fathomless grey eyes. ‘I want to save you.’

  ‘Save my soul?’ Rory said with a derisive laug
h. ‘Not much chance of that. I’m damned. Double-damned now. I’ve got you on my conscience as well.’

  ‘No, Rory. I want to save you from yourself.’

  PART THREE

  Chapter 13

  1974

  Strolling home from Evensong, where she’d formed a quarter of the congregation, Ettie was thoughtful. There was no use hurrying in this heat- one only arrived home all hot and bothered (although these days she became hot and bothered regardless of the weather as her hormonal thermostat went haywire.) Being female and middle-aged was such a trial. She shuddered to think where one would be without the consolations of religion and music.

  No stranger to unhappiness herself, Ettie nevertheless found it hard to witness the unhappiness of others. She supposed it was the feeling of helplessness that was so painful, especially when it was loved ones who suffered. For herself, she was a great believer in work and prayer as both distraction and consolation, but it appeared neither was proving particularly effective for Hugh. Ettie hated to see him so miserable and smile as he might, she knew that he was. Flora made no secret of her discontent - or, to be fair, was it just that Ettie knew her better? - but Hugh did his best to convince family and parish that all was well, even though plainly it wasn’t.

  At least Hugh had the consolation of Theo who sadly seemed destined to be an only child. Theo evidently brought Hugh joy, but Flora seemed barely able to disguise her irritation with the boy. Ettie couldn’t understand her attitude. The boy was intelligent, if shy, and showed an interest in everything, especially wildlife. He loved to walk round the garden with Dora, learning the names of plants. He insisted on learning the botanical Latin which he recited as other children chanted playground rhymes. Hugh had given him a plot to cultivate in the vicarage garden for which Archie had donated seedlings from the greenhouse. Theo himself had sown a handful of sunflower seeds in the vegetable garden at Orchard Farm and, to his delight, the plants had grown taller than he was. Ettie had taken a photograph of Theo standing proudly dwarfed by his flowers and given an enlargement to Hugh who had seemed much moved by the picture. He’d smiled and remarked that Theo was the image of Rory, which indeed he was, although as fair as Flora.