“Are you saying he doesn’t spend any time with you alone any more? You know . . . sharing love?”
“Love? Are you serious? In that foul mood of his?”
“You haven’t been . . .” she faltered, “at all together . . . in a month?”
“Not once.” Laura shook her head ruefully. “In fact, I think he may be seeing other women.”
“No, that can't be true. You’re being paranoid now. He loves you, you know that.”
Laura shook her head again. Even in the absence of evidence, a woman’s instinct is infallible, especially when things get to be so bad.
Chapter 42
“Shall we go for a cuppa?” Maggie asked Laura, as they sauntered past Mr Fern’s tearoom. It had been her idea to visit the Pier and get some fresh air. She’d thought it would be good for Laura, whose spirits had plummeted even further recently. Indeed, returning to the Pier after so long had done miracles for Laura, who smiled back at her now with flushed cheeks.
“Splendid idea! I’m completely parched. And I have missed Mr Fern,” she said, placing Freddie back in his pram.
The tearoom wasn’t too busy, and they settled easily at a small table by the entrance. Mr Fern gestured to one of his waitresses to leave the table to him, and he walked up to his old friends with a wide grin on his face.
“Good morning, Ladies! How long has it been?” He burst out before giving a hearty laugh.
“Good morning, Mr Fern! Look who’s here, huh,” said Maggie with a giggle. He came to rest a tender hand on her shoulder and in response, she patted him on the arm. Maggie and Ian visited him often, but he hadn’t seen Laura in months.
“How are you, Mr Fern?” said Laura, kissing his cheek, but Mr Fern took her hand to kiss instead.
“Always gallant, Mr Fern,” she joked.
“You’re not our little Laura any more,” he said, putting up a shaking finger, “You’re a viscountess now!” He widened his eyes.
Laura gave a wry smile. “I’ll always be little Laura to you.”
“Ah, my darling, how I’ve missed you! And how is his lordship? I see little Freddie has grown,” he added, bending to pat the boy’s head.
“You’re ever so kind, Mr Fern. Thank you, my husband is just fine.”
He turned to Maggie. “I see Meg and Paul often. They visit every weekend and on some weekdays too.”
She beamed at him. “Yes, I know. What can I say? You’re our favourite, Mr Fern!”
In response, he laughed, his ruddy cheeks flushing a hot red. “What can I get you, my darlings? Anything, on the house!”
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly,” said Maggie.
“I agree,” said Laura, “you must let us pay!”
“You can pay next time. Today, it’s my treat!” he insisted, causing them to accept with a nod of their heads.
“Earl Grey for me and a scone please. Thank you, Mr Fern,” said Laura with a smile, then took out the baby bottle to feed Freddie in his pram.
“The usual for me please,” said Maggie.
The kindly man winked at her. She had a soft spot for his chocolate muffins.
When he’d left, the two friends gazed at the passing crowd for a few moments, then Laura turned to Maggie, her expression laden with wistfulness. “The Pier has a strange effect on me. I find it overwhelming. It makes me wish I could travel back in time, back to my carefree past. Of course, I’m anything but carefree these days,” she said, bursting into tears.
Maggie leaned forward and patted Laura’s hand across the table. “Hush now, my darling. It will be all right, I promise.”
Laura shook her head and took a deep breath to steady herself. She even managed a half-smile as she helped Freddie drink his milk in his pram. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I know, somehow, things have to work out. Charles just has to understand there’s nothing I could have done to prevent this. It’s not my fault Freddie is not his. He has to accept it. What was I supposed to do when I first noticed? It’s not something you could just come out and say, is it?”
Maggie kept nodding as she listened, her face the picture of sympathy. She wanted to blurt out that Charles had no right to complain. After all, Laura hadn’t exactly chosen to be with him in the first place. He had the gall to complain now, after breaking her apart from Christian, after forcing himself on her to make it happen. She was well aware the early part of their joint past had to stay buried away. There was a child now that bound them together. This marriage had to last. What was the alternative for Laura?
Laura’s brow creased, making her look ten years older. Remorse coloured her face, to see her friend’s sorrowful expression. “Oh, Maggie, I’m so sorry! You have brought me here, and instead of us reminiscing our blissful past together, I’ve managed to dampen our spirits with my marital woes. Forgive me.”
“Don’t worry about me, Laura. But try not to think about it too much. Things sometimes get mended sooner if we allow them to run their course. Charles will come round, you’ll see.”
Laura rested her gaze outside the window for a few moments saying nothing. Beyond the glass pane, the sea view was magnificent. The cawing of the seagulls that always soothed her so much was repetitive and loud enough to be heard even behind the closed doors.
When she met her friend’s gaze again, Laura seemed much calmer. “So, did you check with Ian if you are all right with your petrol rations to visit his gran in Eastbourne? I could easily give you some of ours, as I said. It won't be a problem.”
“Oh, thank you Laura, but there’s no need. We will manage all right. We don’t use the car that much. If you must know, it’s the food rations that we find harder to cope with.”
“Anything you need, my darling; just ask. You know I will always be there for you two.”
“Thank you, Laura. In this case, I could use some to buy eggs and maybe some sugar?”
“Nonsense. When we go home, I will speak to Jen, and she will make you a nice bundle to take home. I believe we also have some cheese and cured ham in the larder. Men have to have meat.” Laura winked and gave a bright smile.
“You’re an angel, thank you!” Maggie looked ecstatic. In her head, she was already making plans. Ian’s birthday was coming up. It was the perfect timing to make him a fruit cake with a thick coating of icing sugar – his favourite that he’s been missing for ages.
Mr Fern approached with a large tray, leaving their orders on the table with confident, swift moves, then placed a hand on his hip and exhaled deeply. He rested his eyes on the passers-by outside for a few moments, then scratched his head and shook it.
“What is it, Mr Fern? Anything the matter?”
“Ah, don’t mind me, Maggie. My mind’s all muddled up. They were just saying on the wireless about Churchill taking over from Chamberlain. I wonder what the future holds. It will require a tremendous force to fight the Germans off. They look awfully determined to take over the world!”
Maggie smiled. “Ah, Mr Fern, you forget we have the good Lord on our side. Evil can never win.”
“Let us hope you’re right, my dear. Me, I’ve lived my life! It’s you youngsters I stay up all night worrying about. All of you, who have your lives still ahead of you. May the Lord help us stop this menace, and may we never suffer the kind of casualties we had in The Great War.” And with that, he was gone, mumbling to himself, as he strolled back to the kitchen.
Maggie and Laura gazed at each other for a few seconds, their eyes glazed over. “Have you heard from the boys at all?” asked Laura. Christian and Eric remained in her thoughts every day, despite choosing not to admit it to Maggie.
“Nothing yet, Laura. You know I’d tell you if I had another letter.”
“Of course.” Laura took a sip from her tea. When she put the cup down on the saucer, her shaking fingers caused it to rattle for a second or two.
“Let’s hope they’re still training and not fighting the war just yet,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and looking away. Her eyes sought the c
onfident flight of the seagulls, her soul yearning to soar likewise into the skies; to fly away and find out for herself if the boys were indeed safe.
“My darling, even if they’re still training, you know sooner or later, they’ll have to go to battle.”
Laura turned to meet her friend’s gaze. She registered dread there, but as they locked their eyes together, it felt good to share it.
***
Charles was sitting on the sofa reading his paper. When Laura came in the drawing room with Freddie, he threw her an intense look that made her freeze on the spot.
“Would you rather we didn’t join you?”
Charles waved vaguely. “No, by all means. It’s cosy here by the fire. Just make sure the boy doesn’t make any noise. It bothers me.”
“It never used to,” she dared comment.
Charles threw a meaningful glance at her, and she looked away. Then he resumed reading, and she settled Freddie on the carpet to play with his toys.
“Be a good boy now and play quietly. Daddy is tired and needs some rest.”
Freddie gave a squeal and picked up two toy soldiers to play with. Laura sat in her favourite armchair, picking up her book from a low table.
Unbeknownst to her, Charles kept stealing glances her way. He sat with one leg over the other, shaking absentmindedly the foot that hung in mid-air. It was another awkward habit of his that irked Laura. He’d often do this if he was deep in thought or anxious. Of course, in this instance, being engrossed in her book she hadn’t noticed it.
Charles opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again. His business deal with Mr Porter had fallen through earlier that afternoon. He was desperate to share the distressing news with Laura, but at the same time feared she would scoff at him again. Not that he needed more derision to feel like an idiot in his own household these days. All he had to do for that is look at Freddie.
“Laura . . .” he finally managed, his voice trailing off.
She looked up and rested her eyes on him eagerly. “Yes?”
To his surprise, she looked almost angelic then. It was like his anger and frustration for the past few days hadn’t even touched her. Truth was, he despised himself. The way he had made her his in the first place . . . It was something he still hadn’t forgiven himself for. But he’d been desperate. He loved her and wanted her too much. That had been the excuse he’d given himself anyway. But she’d married him all the same. She’d been forgiving in a way, so much better a person than he could ever be. Recently, he’d thought things through. Perhaps he owed it to her to settle for the fact the child wasn’t his. After all, he had taken her away from that man so abruptly, so quickly; practically overnight.
“I have some bad news to share,” he finally said, aching for her soothing words, but still fearing the opposite would be the case.
“What is it?” she put her book down, looking anxious.
“Before I say anything, can you promise to be understanding please? I am quite upset about it, actually.”
“All right,” she said. To his surprise, she stood up and settled beside him. He appreciated her coming close. This looked good.
“I’m afraid I lost the deal with Mr Porter today.”
“Did you? What happened?” She looked concerned.
“He needed more money to set up the factory. Health regulations and other things he had to abide to. It’s crazy what standards the military expects businesses to meet for trivial things like cans of beans! It meant he ran out of money despite his careful planning.”
“And he asked you to contribute, and you couldn’t,” she replied, a hint of sarcasm colouring her tone.
“Laura, please don’t. I don’t want another fight.”
“All right . . . So let me guess, you had no money and it fell through.”
“Well no, he found someone else, who had been pestering him for a while. The only reason he’d stuck with me all this time is because he was such a big fan of yours from the old days. I told you . . . he adores the ground you walk on.”
Laura huffed. “Is this about me not performing any more? Are you going to blame me for this stupid, lost venture of yours?”
“No, of course not!”
“Because if you do, let me remind you that this is my choice. I want nothing more from the theatre world.” Laura spared a thought for Christian and gave a wry smile. It was the theatre that had brought Charles into her life, causing Christian to vanish from it. She despised the theatre because of that. It had destroyed her only chance of happiness.
“Laura, calm down. I’m only mentioning facts here. I’m not passing blame.”
“You’d better not. It’s not my fault your father won't lend you any more money. It’s not my fault you never got an education to give yourself a better chance for a career. It’s despicable that you don’t have a steady job at your age; that you should think up one business idea after another only to see it all fall through. I am sick of it! You hear? I am sick of it!”
“Laura please—”
“And you know, it used to be all right. At least you used to be a loving husband and father. But what are you now? You treat our child like a stranger, shouting at him, terrifying him. And all those nights out . . . coming back home drunk. It’s not decent!”
“Laura, don’t try my patience!” It was Charles’s turn to raise his voice. He had needed her comfort but clearly, that was out of the question. “You cannot tell me what to do, woman! I am a Willard! You are nothing; just like the real father of that bastard!” he growled, pointing at the child.
Laura stared at him aghast for a few moments, her mouth gaping open.
He fixed her with a malevolent gaze and let out a chortle. “What’s the matter? Kitty got your tongue? Of course, I know! You take me for a fool? It’s as plain as day, woman! How could you ever think you could hide this from me?”
“How dare you?” she finally yelled when she found her voice. “Are you serious, passing judgement on me and the poor child?” She huffed. There was a glint in her eyes as she leaned in closer to him, her face animated with indignation. “Because let me remind you that this fine mess is all your fault to begin with!” she screamed at him.
In her eyes he saw her contempt then, all the blame she put on him for that despicable act in Lakeview that he’d been trying so hard to forget. I might as well give up. She’ll never love me or forgive me. By their feet, Freddie started to cry. As if awake from a dream, Laura’s shoulders jumped, and she broke away from Charles’s fiery stare. Whispering soothing words, she knelt down on the carpet to hold her child.
Charles seemed glued to the spot for a few moments, but then, as if pushed from behind by an invisible force, he took one long stride and then just strode away. He stopped at the door and turned around, meeting her mute gaze. He ran a hand through his brilliantined hair and let out a rushed sigh. “Don’t expect me for dinner,” he said, and stormed out.
Chapter 43
1988
By the end of her first week in town, Sofia had already got accustomed to the new schedule of her studies. There were workshops and classes to attend daily, then studying to do in her room and at the library. Still, she found ample free time to roam the city and to discover new parts of it. Already, she had visited the Aquarium and the Palace Pier and knew the Lanes—the quaint nearby district of narrow alleyways and small antique shops—like the back of her hand.
Steve had called on Monday to hand the phone over to Loula so that the girls could have a little chat. She was finally in England. That same day he drove Loula to town so that the two girlfriends could meet. Sofia had now met her three times since Monday. Together with Steve, they had visited the Palace Pier, and Loula had been the loudest she’d ever been. Now that she had her beloved boyfriend and her best friend with her again, she was the happiest person in the world and she acted like it. Loula couldn’t wait to meet Danny too.
Finally, the big day arrived. Steve and Loula picked Sofia up in his car on Thursday ev
ening, then they all drove together to the nightclub where Danny would meet them. It was downtown, not too far; its colourful façade was decorated with fake palm trees lit up with neon and fairy lights. Reggae music blared from the dark bowels of the building.
Sofia went down the few steps with her friends and stood at the threshold of the big hall, her expression jubilant. The night club was the second best thing to a holiday in the sun. It was decorated like a tropical island; the scene set with murals of sweeping sand beaches and coconut trees, reeds and seashells, volcanoes spewing lava and even monkeys, peering out of dense foliage. Colourful cocktails seemed to be in the hands of everyone, even the people who danced. Every now and then, they interrupted their lively dance moves to take a sip of their drinks through brightly coloured straws.
“Reggae, huh?” she said with a chortle. “You said that’s Danny’s favourite hangout? I never imagined him as a reggae fan, somehow.”
“Oh, yeah! That’s all he dances to these days,” replied Steve as he beckoned the girls to follow him inside.
Gaiety lit up Sofia’s face. “I’ve got to see this!”
“Well, you’re lucky, there he is now!” Steve pointed with a titter.
Sofia spotted Danny giving it his all on the dance floor. He was swaying in a circle with a group of five boys and girls. While they danced, they laughed and eyed each other with appreciation, talking loudly over the music, their faces animated.
One of the girls was dancing a bit too close to Danny for Sofia’s liking. Every now and then she bumped her hip against his playfully, throwing him intense looks that had him laughing. She had a short red dress on, her eyes scanning Danny up and down, as if she were about to devour him whole. The sight brought a nauseating feeling in Sofia’s gut.
“I know her, don’t worry,” said Steve in her ear. “She is the resident slapper. I am sure he’s just suffering her, just like everyone else does.
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