by Monica Carly
Margaret swallowed. ‘I’ll go and look through the rest of her things,’ she said, pausing to rest her hand briefly on his shoulder before she left the room.
Mechanically, his face expressionless, Fraser took out the pages. The sight of the handwritten sheets brought images of Edie rushing into his mind. He opened up the pages and began to read.
Chapter 22
16 July 1995
Dear Mother-in-Law
Thank you for your letter which came as something of a surprise. As you say, you broke the rule of a lifetime, and because you have never addressed me in such a personal way before, I must admit it was rather a shock.
I’m not sure that in writing as you did I would have said you were ‘interfering’. I found the whole tone of your letter to be rather one of reprimand, or reproach – and perhaps you were justified in taking that line. At any rate, you obviously felt that you needed to say those things, and I admire your courage in doing so.
Your motive, I am sure, was to protect Fraser – something you have always tried hard to do. It must have been difficult for you, when he was only five, to have had to tell him that his father had been killed in the war. Perhaps I can remind you that he was not the only one to suffer that fate. And at least he had a real mother to bring him up. I have no memory of my real father and only the dimmest one of my real mother. Pat and Ernest who fostered me were a wonderfully loving couple, and their daughter, Beryl, was like a real older sister to me, so in many ways I was very lucky – but even so, it’s not the same has having a parent who is really your own. At least Fraser had you, and in you he had a real ally.
You say the happiness of us both is of paramount importance to you – but I would have hoped for a greater degree of honesty from you. It is Fraser’s happiness you are really concerned about, and you see me as a threat to that. And what came as a really unpleasant surprise is the realisation that you also hold me to blame for some of the problems our two girls are experiencing.
Don’t all girls, as they develop, go through periods of uncertainty, and doubt themselves? Why should that be my fault? Those remarks really hurt, as I imagine you intended them to do. I did my best by my daughters, and I don’t see how you can now lay their problems entirely at my feet. They had a father too!
You are a very strong woman, Marjorie, and I take my hat off to your spirit and the way you have sought to do all you could for both your children, although it doesn’t take much insight to see that Fraser has the lion’s share of your love and concern. I wonder, have you ever stopped to ask yourself why Margaret is a slightly caustic, rather bossy character who lacks any real circle of friends? Is it possible that your upbringing of the two children, and the obvious favouring of her older brother, had something to do with that? Fraser laughs about her idiosyncrasies – but frankly, I don’t like her, and have always made a point of keeping out of her way as much as possible.
Well, it’s Fraser who is really the subject of all this, and I stand accused of risking his happiness, by my ‘selfish, unprincipled behaviour’. Is Fraser unhappy? Has he ever complained to you? Have you ever heard him say one word against me? Does he not lavish praise on his beautiful, wonderful wife? Surely that’s something of an achievement on my part – don’t I get any credit for that?
Let’s get one thing straight. I admire the very fine qualities your son has, and I have enjoyed all the benefits that come from being married to an upright, wholesome, affectionate, thoughtful, generous …. I could go on … man. I loved him so much when we were first married, and (you may be surprised to know) I love him still. I cannot imagine life without him. He has given me so much over the years, and I will always be immensely grateful and deeply appreciative. But …
Yes, there is a but, and I doubt very much that it is one that you would be willing to recognise, because in your beloved son’s character there is a flaw – yes – let me spell it out – your precious Fraser is not as perfect as you think – and, over the years, that flaw has made my life hell.
How did he react when you told him that his so much loved father would not be coming back? Did he cry himself to sleep night after night? Judging from what you have told me, and what I have pieced together from the evidence, after the initial shock, he got on with his life. In other words, he shut out the unpleasant fact, and turned away from it, almost as if it had never happened. You told me some time ago that you longed to tell him all the details you had subsequently learned – that there was so much you wanted him to know – but somehow, because he would not talk about anything to do with his father, you put off raising the topic, fearful of bringing all the pain to the surface.
Was that well done, mother-in-law? What problems did you lay up for later life, by denying him the chance to face unpleasant facts? What now, of the man?
If I try to tell him something I feel I have failed in, he won’t hear of it. I have longed to tell him how unsure of myself I have felt at times, how scared I’ve been, but he simply responds by assuring me that I am a wonderful wife, the best any man could have, and that does not help me at all, when I know full well that in some areas, I most certainly am not.
When we were married he put me on a pedestal. I loved it at first – I felt like a queen on a throne. To be so worshipped and adored was a new and wholly welcome experience. But the atmosphere was rarefied up there – I could not breathe. I wanted to come down and join the real world. Fraser simply could not understand my needs. He thought all he had to do was keep telling me I was perfect, and I would be happy.
So I began to need the approval of someone who knew me for what I really was. I started looking, sub-consciously, for a man who would love me ‘warts and all’. I behaved outrageously at parties, and amazingly Fraser seemed to enjoy watching me flirt with the men there. Occasionally I managed to find a way to go back with one of my conquests – dear Fraser is so gullible – he always swallowed the stories about a woman friend who was desperately unhappy and needed company for the night. But I couldn’t manage that too often. And you may despise me for it, mother-in-law, but I always made it up to Fraser afterwards, and left him feeling a very happy man – so what was the harm?
But I wanted more – something drove me on to try and find a more regular liaison – only then would I know that I was really understood, and if I could succeed in keeping up the relationship this would be the ultimate proof I needed.
Why John? You say that I took a man out of a ‘perfectly good marriage’ and spoiled it for them and for us. May I ask how you know it was this golden dream of a relationship that you describe? You’ve met Sadie – a more mousey, dreary woman it is impossible to imagine. Believe you me John’s eyes were wandering my way long before I became this wicked ‘temptress’. I used to try and get closer to John by suggesting outings as a foursome – I even managed to get a weekend away organised for us all. But poor Fraser had such a rotten time trying to be sociable with Sadie that it was hopeless. We laughed about it afterwards – he said she had absolutely nothing to say, and he couldn’t find any way of lighting a spark of interest in her. She was probably too busy watching John and me happily laughing and joking together, and she usually looked utterly miserable, so I gave that up. It wasn’t fair on Fraser.
Perhaps Sadie isn’t so dim after all. You say someone has ‘brought to your attention’ what has been going on – and John did say recently that he thought she was beginning to have inkling. It would be just like her to go running to you telling tales. It doesn’t take great intelligence to work that out and it would be a nice sort of revenge for her. I can just imagine her delight in passing on her thinly veiled hints to you.
Of course we did embark on an affair – it was so exciting trying to find ways of meeting, and then having several days together at a time. It was fairly easy for John because Sadie was used to him being away in order to install his beloved kitchens in homes up and down the country. I shamelessly used Beryl as my exc
use and made Fraser promise not to ring there while I was away – I said I just wanted to help her with Gordon, who was now rather frail – and it would be disturbing to them if he rang, since Gordon has to sleep much of the time. This gave me the freedom I needed and John and I even managed a few cruises and lots of short breaks in some of the most romantic cities in Europe. It was perfect!
Then that scheming younger daughter of mine spotted us – in the back row of the local cinema, of all places! And thanks to my training she knew how to turn the situation to her maximum advantage – so I have had to pass sums of money to her to buy her silence. Imagine being blackmailed by your own daughter! Fraser was always so generous with money – he wanted me to have a nice little nest egg in case anything should happen, and he would be appalled if he knew I had spent most of it on my ‘adventures’, and now my own flesh and blood is bleeding me dry.
That brings me on to my two daughters, who, you say, are of ‘some concern to you’. Yes, Sarah does rule over everything rather rigidly, and makes sure everyone else fits into her schedules. But that’s necessary if she is to manage a business, and a family successfully – and I think she’s done an amazing job. Her business is a triumph of planning and efficiency and as a result she is now making quite a lot of money. She has a good husband and two lovely children and all that is a credit to her.
As for Joanna, she is a tough cookie who perhaps hasn’t quite hit the jackpot yet but she will. I know she has the brains to go to University but I don’t think that’s the right thing for her – men don’t really like bright, academic women. Oh, they think they do at the start, and say how proud they are of their brilliant wives, but before long that very success becomes a threat and they start to resent it. Believe you me it is a recipe for disaster. I want Joanna to have a great marriage that will mean she can fully enjoy her life.
I have tried to teach my girls the things that matter in life and how to achieve them. When they seemed to be moving away up some pathway of their own I made sure they knew where I thought they were going wrong. They understand the need to impress people, to charm them into doing what they want, and to go for what will ultimately bring them happiness. I believe they have taken my lessons on board. When Joanna has found the right man my task will be complete.
Fraser has trusted me completely and I know he thought I was a good mother to our girls – and I am sure I was. I find it extremely impertinent of you to suggest otherwise.
This letter has turned out a great deal longer than I intended. I did think of not answering yours at all – perhaps I should simply have treated it with the contempt I thought it deserved.
However, I decided it was high time that you faced up to few home truths yourself. Perhaps you can now see that life with Fraser has been a continual, torturing conflict of, on the one hand, wanting to live up to his unrealistic image of me, but on the other, wanting him to know that I could not – and yet not wanting him to find this out.
However, I want you, Marjorie, to know that, despite everything, nothing alters the fact that in very many ways your son is the best – he is the kindest, gentlest and most unselfish of men – and is totally without guile. He does not deserve to have me as a wife, and I wish I could have done better but I have always loved him, and – however strange this may seem to you – I love him still. So there you have it.
Your undutiful daughter-in-law
Edie
Margaret came back into the bedroom and found Fraser sitting with his head in his hands, the pages of the letter in a scattered heap on the table. She sat down quietly beside him, aware of the tension in his body and realising his pain. Very gently she put her arm round him, and felt his shoulders begin to heave. Then the emotions that had been imprisoned deep within him for many years suddenly broke through to the surface, and his anguish was uncontrollable. His whole body became convulsed by agonized, racking sobs. Margaret sat there, her arm round him, not saying a word.
Chapter 23
‘Joanna, could you possibly help me out by having the twins for the day tomorrow? It’s half term, and I had it all arranged – Maria was going to have them, but she’s let me down – well, she can’t help it, I know – she says she’s ill with a terrible cold and sore throat – so obviously they can’t go there. I need to find an alternative at short notice, and I’d be so grateful if you could do it, just this once.’ Sarah was trying hard to keep any note of desperation from creeping into her voice.
‘Sorry, Sarah – not possible, I’m afraid. I’m busy.’
‘Busy! Surely whatever you’re busy with can wait for a day, can’t it? I mean, it’s not as though you are working.’
‘There is life outside work, you know, Sarah. And it so happens that whatever it is can’t wait.’
‘Oh, please, Joanna. Do think again. You know I very rarely ask you to help me, and I wouldn’t now if I didn’t have to, but I’m absolutely at my wit’s end. It’s too late now to ask any of the other Mums – they’ll all be involved in their own complicated arrangements. I’d relied on Maria and I’ve only just heard what’s happened to her. Michael says he’s already booked up, so he can’t help me, and I don’t know where else to turn. Couldn’t you try and re-arrange things? It’s not a lot to ask, is it?’
‘Why is it that married women who have a family and have chosen to work think their needs take precedence over those of single women, who are currently jobless? I’ve already told you my plans can’t be altered, but you’re still assuming that I can easily change them and will do so for your benefit.’
‘I just thought that, maybe, after all the meals you’ve had at my house over the years, not to mention all the lifts home Michael has given you because you didn’t want to go on the bus in the evening, that maybe, just maybe, you might like to do something for me? But I can see I was wrong. Obviously your mind doesn’t work like that.’
‘Oh, so now I owe you this favour! Your good deeds are put in the balance and heavily outweigh mine -- on your scales, anyhow. Stop putting emotional pressures on me, Sarah. If I could have done it, I would have done so, without you having to plead your case. But I can’t do it tomorrow, and that’s the end of it.’
‘I don’t know how you can be so selfish. You know I’m trying my best to juggle the demands of family and business. I work so hard at keeping all the wheels running smoothly, and most of the time they do, but just this once, Joanna, through no fault of my own, the plans have gone pear-shaped, and, much as it pains me to say it, I do need you. Can you really live with your conscience if you ignore my cry for help?’
‘You sound more like mother every day. She was the expert in emotional blackmail. She’d be proud of you if she could hear you now.’
‘I can’t believe you just said that. I’ve never heard you speak like this before. You’re so hard, and so disloyal.’
‘Look, Sarah. It was your choice to have a husband, and a family, and run a business at the same time – not mine – I wasn’t consulted when you committed yourself up to the hilt – so it’s you that must take the strain of any repercussions, not me, and whatever you say, you aren’t going to make me feel guilty about it.’
‘So that’s it! You’re jealous! I know you’ve always envied my life with Michael, and my children – and you’ve been singularly unsuccessful in finding anything like that for yourself – so that’s why you won’t help me. Well, let me tell you something, Joanna, for your own good – you’ve got an awful lot of growing up to do before some man of Michael’s calibre would look at you! I know we’re extremely busy, but Michael and I understand one another, and we value what we have. I pity you – you can’t seem to find anyone like him.’
‘Is that really how you see your marriage? Well, I’ve got news for you, my oh so clever, older sister – you’re deluding yourself. If you think Michael’s happy with the life he has now, then believe you me, you have another think coming.’
‘I
suppose you’ll tell me next that you know him better than I do.’
‘That’s certainly a possibility. What I do know is that you rarely consider his feelings. You treat him like some kind of useful appendage, a piece in your imperial jigsaw, someone you can control and use to fill in the missing blanks for you. He’s just there to provide the necessary ‘male role’ in your family model. When did you last see him as a living, breathing human being, with longings of his own that he dare not voice to you? When did you last think about his needs, give him some quality time, make him feel wanted for his own sake? You’ve reduced him to the role of fitting into and helping with your relentless schedules. When did you last have a really satisfying love-making session? I bet, when it comes to bed-time, you say grudgingly to him, ‘You need to get it all over in ten minutes, Michael, as we must get some sleep – we’ve a busy day ahead of us all tomorrow.’ What’s the poor devil supposed to do when his ten minutes is up? Turn over and pretend he’s not a hot-blooded male? You’re not being fair to him. He’s a deeply loving man who adores his children, but he’s never allowed to relax and enjoy them. It would serve you right if he looked elsewhere for someone who really values him.’
‘Have you finished, may I ask? I don’t know how you have the effrontery to speak to me like that. You know nothing about our marriage, nothing about Michael, and I won’t listen to any more of your nonsense.’
‘I know a lot more than you think.’
‘I haven’t time for this. This was supposed to be a quick phone call to my sister to ask if she’d have my children for just one day. I should have known better than to think that you would help me out in a crisis. I’ve no more time to waste.’
‘Sorry if you got rather more than you expected.’
‘I got rather less than I expected, and now I must try and think of another solution. I don’t know when you became so bitter, Joanna, but it’s a pretty unattractive trait. It’s no wonder you can’t keep boyfriends. As mother has said on more than one occasion, let me tell you, young lady, such talk will get you precisely nowhere.’