She settled into the car and he pulled it back on to the blacktop and settled again to a steady fifty miles an hour in the fast outside lane, and she sat brooding for a while, thinking about all he had told her and then said carefully, ‘And what does your mother say to that? To Tim and Rosalie fighting? Or does she –’
‘Listen, Mother’s no fool. She knows when not to interfere. And she never interferes when they spat. Anyway, everyone always spats in our house. You ought to hear Betty-Jane go at Maureen. That really is something.’
‘Betty-Jane and Maureen –’
‘They’re my oldest sisters. Bernie and Cathy – they’re the younger ones – they’re easy enough. No trouble to anyone. But BJ and Maureen are like Kilkenny cats. You’ll see –’
Yes, she said inside her head, I’ll see. And I think, so will the other Mrs Kincaid. She needn’t think she can bully me the way she bullies everyone else. Not me. Not now I’m a married woman, and Jay’s mine. She won’t get away with a thing. Just you watch me …
But her certainty began to waver, just a little, when they got to the hotel, a rather ferociously decorated country place with much evidence of the sea about it, from the fishing nets draped over the check-in desk to the glass bubble floats in vivid colours strung over the bar. They had checked in and gone up to their room and she stopped at the doorway of their bedroom, as the bellboy went on ahead with their luggage, and said softly to Jay, ‘You ought to carry me over the threshold. It’s not our home, I know, but it’s all we’ve got to be getting on with –’
He looked blank and she laughed again. ‘It’s what all married men are supposed to do with their wives – carry them over the threshold to make sure they belong to them! And I’m not that heavy.’
He bent and picked her up as the grinning bellboy stood and held the door, carried her in and threw her on the bed before tossing a coin to the boy and sending him away.
‘There,’ she said with great satisfaction, still lying on the bed where he had thrown her, and laughing up at him, ‘now I really feel as though I’m married –’
‘I don’t.’ He grinned down at her. ‘I feel as wicked as ever I did, screwing a girl as mad as you are –’
‘But of course you should feel married! I mean, look –’ and she showed him her left hand, wagging her long elegant fingers at him and still laughing.
But he shook his head and turned away, pulling off his tie. ‘Well, it’s not as though we went to church, is it? A nuptial mass, now – that must make a man feel married! So let’s make the most of it, hon, and go on being a wicked immoral pair. It’s a hell of a lot of fun, that’s for sure –’ And all the time he spoke he was pulling off his clothes.
That was the first time she made love as a married woman. And the first time she didn’t climax.
17
October 1950
They drove into Boston on a morning so bright and cold that it hurt her eyes, sweeping along the broad highway and past the grey scatter of buildings in a haze of morning sunshine and she felt her chest tighten with apprehension and knew she was nervous only because he was.
For the past few miles they had sped along the highway in total silence, as he became more and more abstracted, but now as they passed a board that read ‘Welcome to Norwood’, he said abruptly, ‘I’lll take the Yankee Division Highway and then turn east on the Worcester turnpike. We’ll be in Brookline in about a half-hour or so, maybe less, depending on the traffic. Okay?’
‘Mmm? Oh, yes, I suppose so. That’s fine –’ she said, and stole a sideways glance at him. He looked particularly handsome this morning, with his hair burnished to a rich golden sheen and his profile jutting against the passing scenery with all the glamour of a film star’s and she felt the sheer pleasure of him lift inside her and shivered a little and said, ‘Who’ll be there when we get there? To your house, I mean?’
‘Who can say? It could be everyone or no one. I –’ He stopped and scowled as he overtook a huge articulated truck which had been roaring its exhaust fumes behind it so that they swirled into the car and made them cough. ‘As a matter of fact, they don’t know we’re coming. I didn’t let them know. So there’s no reason why anyone should be there at all right now.’
‘You didn’t – why not?’ She turned in her seat and stared at him. ‘Why didn’t you tell them we were coming?’
He made a face. ‘I thought it be easier to explain it all when we got there,’ he said and slid his eyes sideways to glance at her. ‘Don’t glare at me like that, for God’s sake! It’s no matter, after all. We can explain when we get there. I told you.’
She sat in silence for a long moment and then said dully, ‘They don’t even know we’re married, do they? You didn’t tell them that either. No telegram, though you said you’d send one. You just didn’t send it, did you?’
‘I told you! There’ll be plenty of time when we get there –’ He sounded sulky now. ‘Why start a whole drama for no reason? It’ll be fine when we’re actually there, believe me. So I send a wire and what happens? Mother gets into a panic, Pa hits the roof, everyone starts screaming and shouting. They’re like that, my family …’
‘They’re my family too, now,’ she said. ‘Don’t you think you might have made it a bit easier for me if you had told them? Even at the risk of screaming fits? I mean, I’m your wife, Jay! I’m entitled to a bit of consideration, aren’t I?’
‘Christ, you sound like my mother already! What happens to women when they get wedding rings on their fingers? Do they find out how to nag the same moment?’
‘I’m not nagging, I’m just – I’m scared,’ she said and wriggled down in her seat to hide her face in her fur collar again. ‘It’s – I’m a long way from my own family and I wanted so much to be loved by yours, that’s why. I love you and –’
He glanced at her uneasily. ‘Don’t start to cry, for God’s sake.’
‘I’m not going to. I just wanted you to know how scared I am –’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, no need to be scared! They aren’t ogres. Just my folks. A bit on the – well, they get a bit excited sometimes. But then so did your father. I remember, believe me. He gave me one hell of a going over once or twice.’
‘I dare say he did,’ she said in a small voice. ‘But that was in the way of business. This is family – it should be nice and – oh, what’s the use of talking about it? You didn’t tell them so you didn’t. I’ll have to manage as best I can.’
The curious thing was she didn’t feel nearly as apprehensive as she had. Now she knew the situation, and knew too how nervous he was, it seemed to have made it better. Indeed, more than better; exciting. The prospect of meeting a whole crew of people who didn’t know that she had scooped up their son under their very noses and making them like her – and she would, she vowed; she knew she could and she would – was very exciting. It was a challenge and she sat with her mouth and nose buried in fur, staring out of the window and pretending to be a sad little thing but feeling the pleasure and drama of it all bubbling inside her.
Equally curiously, her show of anxiety seemed to have put some muscle into Jay, for he stopped being so anxious and silent and began to talk to her of the scenery they were passing.
‘That’s the Charles River – see? There on the right. It flows on right into the middle of Boston and into the harbour. It’s a beautiful river. Now, this area’s called Newton Upper Falls and there ahead – see? – that’s where we turn right in to the turnpike – home any minute now –’ And now his mood changed and he became like a child, eager to get home after the long term away at school.
The road was still a major highway, but now the buildings they were passing became larger and more imposing and the roads that ran off on each side showed very elegant big and comfortable houses with large front lawns and she grinned into her collar even more widely. This was going to be a lovely place to live. Soon, she and Jay would have just such a house as any one of these, all to themselves, and need not worry at a
ll about his family. Not once they were living as a married couple ought to live, in their own house, and she let her mind drift away into a happy fantasy of a house full of busy servants and Jay and she in the middle of a beautiful drawing room and somewhere in the upper reaches of the house perhaps a couple of pretty babies – it was a very delectable image and she almost jumped when Jay said, ‘Okay. This is Boylston and here is where we turn left into Brookline –’
‘We’re here then?’ She sat up sharply and stared out of the window.
‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘This is just Brookline Avenue. We live on Commonwealth, so we have to go on, up there till we get to Beacon and then we’re there. You can almost see the house –’
It was undoubtedly a handsome house, quite as handsome as any they had passed. Red brick with an imposing front and a pillared entrance of considerable splendour that looked like any of the old Georgian houses she had seen at home in England, and a large expanse of front lawn sliding down to the road. There was a large red car parked in the driveway and she stretched her neck and said, ‘Looks as though there is someone home, after all.’
He had pulled their hired car into the drive behind it and now he switched off the engine and sat staring out, making no effort to move, and after a moment she opened the door and got out herself, leaving it to him to follow.
It was pleasant enough outside, though there was a nip of cold in the air from a sharp easterly breeze and she lifted her face to the thin winter sunshine and took a deep breath. It smelled clean and fresh, with an overtone of salt in it, and it invigorated her and she turned back to the car to run round it and open the door on Jay’s side and urge him out.
There was a sound of hurrying footsteps on gravel behind her and a voice roared, ‘And who do you think you are, then?’ and she turned to see a large woman in a calico apron and with her hair tied up under a scarf thudding down the path from the house. ‘You can’t be just puttin’ your car there, with himself ready to go out in no more than a minute or two now – you be movin’ at once, or we’ll have him chewin’ up the grass, I’ll tell –’
Maddie wanted to laugh. The accent the woman had was so weird, such a thick mixture of stage Irish and cinema American that she felt it must surely be put on for her benefit, but the woman went on and on about the car, and it was clear that this was as she was. There was no element of pretence at all, and Maddie bit her lip and turned to the car once again to urge Jay out.
But he needed no urging, for now he was out and leaning over the top and staring at the shouting woman with his face split into a huge grin, and at last she turned away from Maddie and looked at him and at once the tirade of abuse dried up and she stared and then threw her arms wide and came scuttling round the car to throw them around him and hug him till Maddie could almost hear his ribs crack under the brawny arms.
She stared almost in horror. Whatever else she had expected of Jay’s mother it hadn’t been anything like this, and for a moment she was nonplussed. But she regained her composure fast and stepped forwards and held out her hand.
‘Hello,’ she said and produced her most winning smile. ‘It’s so good to meet you.’ And as the woman turned to look at her she smiled even more widely and leaned over and kissed her cheek. She smelled of soap and polish and sweat and beneath that of beer and cigarettes and Maddie fixed the smile on her face with even more determination and wondered wildly if she’d ever be able to cope with such a mother-in-law.
Jay was still looking delighted and now he grinned at Maddie and said cheerfully, ‘Well, you’ve met the most important person in the house, now! At least, we know she is, eh, Mary Margaret? Never mind Pa or Mother – this is the one who keeps the place going. Have you missed me then, you wicked old devil?’
‘Missed you? Never a bit of it!’ The woman turned back to him and beamed. ‘Glad to see the back of you imp of mischief, that I was. And who might this be, then?’ And she jerked her head over her shoulder towards Maddie.
Maddie was almost giddy with relief. How she could ever have imagined this woman was the mother of whom Jay was so patently in awe was beyond her, but in doing so she had clearly wrought better than she knew, for obviously this woman was a force to be reckoned with in the Kincaid household. There could be no mistaking the affection Jay felt for her, old nanny that she is, Maddie thought, who brought him up. And still loves him best of all – and I kissed her. Oh, thank you to whoever it is who was watching over me! I’d never have kissed her if I hadn’t thought she was his mother, and it couldn’t have been a better thing to do –
For Mary Margaret had turned and was now looking at her with a critical eye, but there was no hostility to her, just an appraising interest, and after a moment Jay said almost with embarrassment, ‘Er – well, to tell you the truth, Mary Margaret – this is my wife.’
‘I thought as much,’ the woman said and grinned, displaying unlovely tobacco-stained teeth. ‘There’s an air to her that shows she’s got you by the short ones. Well, well, and where did he find you?’
‘In London, Mary Margaret!’ Maddie said, and smiled again, but more demurely now, and then glanced at Jay. ‘We met when Jay was working with my father –’
‘Jesus, you’re English then? That’ll go down great with madam your mother and I don’t think,’ Mary Margaret said but she didn’t look at Jay. ‘Your Pa now, he’ll be taken with you. Always did like pretty girls with curly hair, he did, the old devil. Well, you’d better be coming in, then, out of the cold –’
‘Are they home, Mary Margaret?’ Jay was slowly taking luggage out of the car, not seeming at all anxious to go inside. ‘And the girls, where are they?’
‘Your Ma and Pa just finished their lunch, they have. I suppose I’ll have to be rushin’ about fetchin’ vittles for you two now. Oh, the way you all run me off my poor old feet is a sin and a crime, but what can you do? You’d all starve if I didn’t. Your sisters are out some place, don’t ask me where for all they ever tell me, the pair of madams they are. Bernie and Catherine, they’re still away at college, o’course. We don’t see them till Thanksgiving, and God knows who’ll they’ll fetch along with them when they do come. Like yourself, that pair. Never know who they’re takin’ up with next –’
‘And Timothy?’ They were walking up the drive now, Mary Margaret carrying most of the luggage and Jay walking behind her with a couple of small cases. ‘Is he here?’
She sniffed. ‘By a miracle he ain’t at the moment. He’s here a deal too much for a man with a wife and a home of his own, but what can you do? No one tells him what to do, never did. He’s at the office, I dare say, though there’s no guaranteein’ it. Goin’ by himself this mornin’ he’s a sight fonder of bein’ where he wants to be than where your Pa wants him to be, but there, I dare say you’ll be no different now you’re back. You wasn’t before you went away, was you?’
She jabbered all the way into the house and Maddie stopped listening, staring around at all there was to see with a sort of hunger. She wanted to make no more mistakes of the sort she already had with this servant; as it happened it had been a good mistake that could rebound to her benefit. It was obvious that having Mary Margaret as an ally in this house could be useful. But her next mistake might not be so profitable and she needed to keep her wits well about her to avoid it.
They came into the house through the back door to which Mary Margaret had automatically made her way, and past a vast kitchen where another woman was briskly washing dishes and on through a dim corridor to a door at the far end which led into the main hallway of the house. Here any similarity with the sort of Georgian houses she had seen in England vanished, for there seemed to be no other internal doors, apart from the one which led to the back part of the house. The hallway led by a couple of steps into a big comfortably furnished sitting room full of great vases of flowers and on the other side into a dining room, equally doorless, while the stairs ran up the centre into a gallery above, off which she could just see there were some doors a
t last, and she took a deep breath and felt, just as she had in New York, that she had walked straight into the set of a film. This was the sort of house inhabited by Myrna Loy or Greer Garson in all those stories about happy marriages threatened by misunderstandings and interlopers, and the sense of strangeness that thought gave her made her want to laugh.
‘Have you got rid of whoever it is, damn you?’ someone roared and she whirled towards the source of the sound and saw at the far side of the stairs a man standing in the opening that led to the dining room. A tall man, well muscled and with a long thin face that was very like Jay’s, surmounted by white hair that was as glossy and thick as Jay’s own golden thatch. He was holding a napkin in one hand and was glaring furiously as Mary Margaret stepped forwards, out of the lee of the staircase where they were standing and shouted back at him, ‘I did, at that, I did. He’ll move the car when you’re fit to go and that’ll not be in such a hurry after all, not once you see who it is –’
Maddie didn’t wait for Jay to make his move and join Mary Margaret where his father could see him. Moving swiftly she dodged past him and ran round the bulky figure of the servant and towards the old man. Her coat, which she had unbuttoned, swung open to show the sleek red woollen dress she had on and which she knew showed off her shape to advantage and she lifted her chin and gave her smile every bit of sparkle and excitement she could and held out her hand and went purposefully towards him.
‘Hello,’ she said and she kept her voice interestingly low. ‘I’m Maddie. How are you?’ And then she added very deliberately, ‘Pa,’ and did exactly what she had done with Mary Margaret. She kissed him.
Maddie Page 19