Maddie

by Claire Rayner

  Barney had, but it hadn’t been the same as it would have been having Jay there, and she stood in the small bleak chapel at the crematorium with half a dozen men in dark suits and bowler hats who had emerged from the shadows of her father’s past to see him on his way and murmur their condolences to his sole surviving child, and then drove herself home again to Stanmore through the heavy clamminess of the lowering August day and wanted to weep and couldn’t.

  Daddy, she thought, and made herself remember him as he had been when she was young, with his glossy dark hair and his grin and his loud talk, but not a tear could she force through her eyes. They remained stubbornly hot and dry as she pushed the MG through the Sunday quiet roads, past the houses with their gardens full of tired roses dripping their thick cloying scent, and took her mind even further back to her childhood, to the time when her mother had died in that air raid. That had been something she could rely on to make her cry, once.

  But it didn’t now. All she could do was stare out at the world from her hot dry eyes, behind her hard still face which felt as stiff and expressionless as if it were made of cardboard, and think and remember and feel nothing whatsoever. It was a horrible way to be.

  Daphne fussed over her agreeably when she got home, fetching her hot milk and brandy to drink, which she loathed but she tried to drink it to please her. The girl had become ever more important to her over the past couple of months, taking as she did so many of her domestic burdens from her, and she was grateful to her, and needed her too; and now she lifted her head and looked at her and said huskily, ‘Thanks, Daphne. I don’t now what I’d do without you. You’ve been great, you really have –’

  ‘That’s all right, Mummy, you don’t have to thank me! I know how it is. I know what happened when my granny died. I cried for a week and I thought the world’d come to an end, I did that – it were awful. Oh, I know how you feel all right, Mummy –’ And she patted Maddie’s shoulder and pushed the hot milk towards her invitingly.

  And at last Maddie cried, at the thought of this large and relentlessly cheerful girl weeping for a week over her granny. The image of Daphne with her jolly round face twisted with tears rose in front of her and she felt her own cardboard face soften at last and twist itself into runnels and channels down which tears could run, and then they did, like a shower of pain that left even more pain behind it. Daphne’s granny was dead – it was a dreadful pitiful thing, and she had to cry for it; Daphne’s granny –

  ‘There, there, my duck, just you let it go, then,’ Daphne said in high satisfaction. ‘It’s better out than in, that’s for sure. You just have a good howl there – you’ll feel the good of it, you see if you don’t –’ And hearing her granny’s voice masquerading as Daphne’s, Maddie cried even more and with increasing abandon until even Daphne became alarmed and started to try to soothe her and persuade her to go to bed.

  But still Maddie wept on, and at last Daphne said, ‘Eh, I don’t know – perhaps I ought to phone Daddy in America, tell him it’s made you so poorly, losing your Dad, that he’d better come home –’

  Maddie managed to shake her head at that. ‘I – he can’t –’ she managed. ‘Business – he’s got to stay there. He can’t come home –’ And then she wept even more, but this time it was because Jay couldn’t come home, rather than because of Daphne’s granny.

  ‘Well, then, maybe you ought to go to him then,’ Daphne said and patted her shoulder again. ‘It’s not right you should be on your own at such a time. Why not take some time off and go and see Daddy, then? The boys’d love it, you know. They miss him as much as you do, Mummy – and it’ll be a little holiday to be in a ship, wouldn’t it?’

  At last the tears began to ease, subsiding slowly as the image created by the words in the flat Northern voice began to form and then strengthen before her eyes. She and Jay, together. That was what she most wanted. And if he couldn’t be here, then why indeed should she not be there? And the image wavered a little as she thought of Pa and Blossom and then strengthened once more as Jay moved into the middle of it. And she lifted her head and said huskily, ‘Me go to Jay? Oh, Daphne, do you think I could?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ Daphne said and beamed at her, clearly delighted with herself that she had managed to hold the storm. ‘It’s where you need to be right now, ‘nt it? Families ought to be together when they’ve been bereaved. It’s only natural. You go and see Daddy, Mummy. It’s what you need. And it’d be nice for the boys too, wouldn’t it?’ And she set her head on one side and smiled winningly. ‘If you feel you’d like to take us with you, that is.’

  29

  August 1953

  She considered flying, to get there as fast as was humanly possible, but that really would have been difficult. It wasn’t just the thought of the cost, high as that would be for two adults and two children – about five hundred pounds – it was the sheer misery such a journey would mean. Ten hours, even in one of BOAC’s much vaunted stratocruisers, with two restless boisterous children – its discomfort and misery could be imagined all too clearly; and when she heard that there had to be a two-hour stopover at Gander as well as at Prestwick, that settled it. Even at the cost of spending five days on the journey it had to be by sea.

  She managed to get a large double cabin, into which cots could be put for the boys, on the SS Media out of Liverpool on 25 August, the following Saturday, and that meant a massive effort to get them away. She left the packing of everything, not only for the boys but also for herself, to Daphne who was in a fever of excitement at being taken to America, and concentrated on the office arrangements. She was deeply glad she had started the new scheme for Catterick; leaving him in charge would be not only safe but effective. He had as big a stake in the success of Braham’s Construction as she had now, and she made sure he had meticulously detailed instructions on what to do and when to do it, and how to cope in any foreseeable emergency in her absence, however long it turned out to be.

  And then caught the boat train from King’s Cross in a welter of luggage and last-minute parcels of objects with which Daphne was sure the boys could not possibly travel, and collapsed into her corner seat to face the four or more hours of inactivity that lay ahead of her. For the first time since Alfred’s death she had time to think, and she took a deep breath and closed her eyes against the hubbub the boys were already kicking up, leaving Daphne to cope, and relaxed.

  And then, of course, the doubts began. Perhaps she should have called or at least cabled Jay to tell him they were on the way? The idea of surprising him had seemed so attractive when it came into her mind that she had not queried it; she had just agreed with herself that that was what she would do. But now, as the train grumbled its way furiously over the points and went roaring northwards out of London through Finsbury Park and Edmonton, past the soot-encrusted chimneys and the brave if twisted trees and shrubs beside the line which bent their heads against the combined onslaught of the summer heat and the engines that spewed great gouts of steam over them, the uncertainty came boiling up in her.

  Would he understand why she had felt so desperate a need to be with him? Would he be angry with her because she had not stayed to deal with the legal aspects of her father’s death? But there was no need for that, she told herself defensively. Barney Copeman, their solicitor, had assured her that he could look after it all. He had all the necessary signatures, and the will had been a well-prepared document; she was not needed in London. And, he had added reasonably enough, Boston wasn’t the end of the world. She could get back soon enough if she was really needed.

  But all the same, maybe a surprise won’t be all that agreeable to him, and she opened her eyes to stare out of the grimy window at the fields fleeing past and thought, I’ll cable from the ship. Then he won’t have to wait so long once he knows until we arrive, and it will be a bit of a surprise, if not a total one. And satisfied with the decision, she fell asleep.

  That kept on happening all through the journey. They made the exchange f
rom train to ship without too much drama, taking into account the fact that Buster chose to run off and disappear for almost fifteen minutes in the great echoing luggage shed, and settled into the cabin with dispatch, thanks to Daphne’s efficiency. She had then taken the boys off to explore, as she put it, and left Maddie to relax, and she had promptly slept again. And had gone on sleeping through most of the days that followed, taking morning and afternoon naps and spending long nights in deep slumber.

  It was clear she had been badly in need of the rest, she told herself as at last the ship moved over the glassy green heave of water towards the pier in New York, and she stood at the rail watching the Lady and her lamp slide past while the children leapt up and down beside her; that was why this crossing had been so somnolent, compared with the last one she had made. And her lips curved as she remembered how it had been that last time she had made this journey, the way she and Jay had spent so many hours in their lifeboat, and then, a little alarmed at herself, pushed her erotic memories away as Buster tugged at her dress and shouted, ‘Mummy, where’s Daddy? Is Daddy here, Mummy?’

  She turned and picked him up and hugged him, suddenly full of excitement and happiness for the first time since she had left London.

  ‘Not here, darling,’ she said. ‘Not in New York. But I dare say he’ll meet our train in Boston when we get there. I sent him a cable yesterday to say we were coming. He’ll be very surprised and very excited – just like us.’ And she hugged him again until he refused to stay in her arms any longer and demanded to be set down beside Daphne once more.

  Daphne was now not quite as effective as she had been. The bustle and excitement of New York seemed to overawe her and she stood a little helplessly beside the luggage once they were disembarked, clutching Danny and with Buster holding her skirt, looking very alien in her English nanny’s uniform coat and sensible hat, pulled well down over her forehead, and stared around with her mouth half open at the newness of it all. It was Maddie who had to organise the porters, the tedious shuffle through Customs and the finding of a cab to take them uptown to Pennsylvania Station.

  But she managed it, and as they ate dinner in the train, speeding through Connecticut, she tried to relax once more and recapture the sense of happy excitement she had felt as they had come steaming up to the pier at Manhattan, and could not. She felt only a sense of foreboding, dull and heavy in her belly, and she pushed her chicken salad around her plate, trying to control the feeling. It was silly, she told herself firmly, perfectly ridiculous, to be so anxious. She was on her way to meet her husband, and he would be as excited to see her as she and the boys were about seeing him; she knew that. So why feel that weight of fear and doubts pulling her down? It was unnecessary and nothing to do with Jay at all, probably. It was just a leftover feeling of grief for Daddy, and she thought hard about Daddy, to see if that made the feeling worse. But it had no effect at all. It just stayed there, cold and lumpy in her chest like a palpable object.

  But when they reached Boston’s Back Bay Station at last, and the porter had hefted their luggage out and left them standing there, the children grizzling now with fatigue, the feeling at last went. Because he was there, hurrying along the platform towards them, and now she knew why she had been so anxious. Deep inside herself she had been afraid he would not be glad to sec them, that he would make no effort to meet them, and she was now filled with a vast gratitude, and also much compunction at her own wickedness at harbouring such a notion.

  ‘Jay!’ she cried and dropping her bags heedlessly went running along the platform to meet him and hurl herself into his arms, and he held her close as she wept into his neck, and patted her back and made soothing noises as she began to chatter at him, her grateful relief spilling over into a cascade of words.

  ‘Oh, Jay, I’m so glad to see you – it’s been so miserable. When Daddy died I felt so awful – were you angry? You weren’t angry, were you, that we came? It seemed the only thing I could do. Are you all right? How is it all turning out? Can we go home again soon? You’re not angry with me for coming, are you? The boys were so excited to be seeing you – oh Jay, it is good to see you –’ And she hugged him even closer and pressed her face against his, surprised to find her cheeks so hot and wet. She hadn’t realised she was weeping.

  ‘Hey, now, cool down, honey! No need for all this – sure you’re tired, but don’t make it worse – calm down or you’ll set the kids off – there, you see?’ For now the boys were wailing and Buster was standing beside them pulling at Jay’s jacket, demanding to be picked up and Jay disentangled himself from Maddie’s grip and bent and hauled the child up and hugged him and then set him astride his shoulders, so that he could hold on to his hair and whoop his excitement from his superior vantage point.

  ‘Hello, Daddy,’ Daphne said and simpered a little. ‘It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? You look ever so well, though –’

  And indeed he did. Maddie, who had been scrubbing her face dry with her handkerchief, gave her nose one more blow and looked at him over the edge of the cambric. He was deeply tanned, and his hair had been bleached to an even richer gold so that he almost seemed to have a halo, it gleamed so brightly. There were white lines around his eyes where he had squinted against the sun, and his hands, emerging from the sleeves of his cream summer suit, were as brown and lean as a boy’s. She shivered slightly at the sight of him, feeling all the old desire for him lifting in her, and that made her feel marvellous. It had been some time since that had been so important to her. To find it had come back was a bonus she had not expected, and impulsively she stretched out her hand and said, ‘Oh Jay, you’ll never know how good it is to see you –’

  He looked at her sideways, a sudden blue flash of a glance and grinned and then reached for Danny, taking him in his arms to hold him against his chest where Buster’s swinging legs could do him no harm, and then he looked away and it was almost as though he were embarrassed and Maddie felt her physical need for him rise even higher. He’s feeling the same way I do, a secret voice in her mind sang. He feels just the same way I do – and she looked around for a porter among the crowds of passengers and meeters still swirling around them, impatient to be on their way, to get the children settled and to be alone with him.

  ‘Will you be able to get everything into the car, darling?’ she said as at last a porter with a trolley emerged from the crowd. ‘We could check some of this and fetch it home tomorrow if you like.’

  ‘We’re not going to the house,’ he said and turned to start walking along the platform to the exit as the porter, his trolley now loaded, followed them with Daphne scuttling along beside him and staring round at everything with the same excited look of amazement at the brave new world in which she found herself that she had had ever since they had docked in New York. ‘I booked rooms next door at the Copley Plaza – a suite with a small bedroom for the boys and Daphne.’

  She almost stopped walking in her surprise, but he was striding ahead so she had to run to catch up.

  ‘Not going home? Why not?’

  ‘There wasn’t time to fix things up. You know we had everything put under covers and the house locked up. It takes a lot of time to get straight and I thought, it won’t be worth the cost and effort. It’s not that you’re going to be here all that long –’

  ‘Oh, Jay, can we go home again soon, then? Oh, that’d be marvellous, just marvellous! How long do you think? Oh, I should have called you, and then you could have told me when and – but you don’t mind us being here, do you? You are pleased to see us?’

  ‘Daddy’s pleased to see us. Daddy’s pleased to see us,’ Buster sang and swung his legs again, deliberately trying to catch Danny with his heels, and Jay shook him firmly but affectionately enough and said, ‘Sure I am, you young villain. Mind where you’re putting those goddamned feet of yours, if you don’t want my hands where you don’t want them. Come on, now, porter, take that stuff through to the Copley Plaza, okay? We’ll collect it all from you at the check-in as
fast as we can – come on, Daphne! No time to stand there!’ And Daphne, who had been standing gawping at a display of cars that had been set up on the big concourse, giggled and came scuttling along behind them.

  All the time they were checking in and settling themselves into the suite he concentrated on the children, chattering at them and teasing and tickling them till they were in a state of towering excitement that made them bouncier than even they usually were, and Maddie watched indulgently as she hung clothes in the closets and arranged her make-up on the dressing table, glad for them that they were together again. The boys needed their father, she thought; they spent too much time with women. They’d have to talk about it, she and Jay, make plans so that he could spend more time in future with their sons, rather than be as immersed in the business as he usually was – and as she had been lately.

  When it was time for the boys to be bathed and put to bed they screamed their demands that Daddy should do it so loudly that good-naturedly Jay pulled off his jacket and pushed up his shirt sleeves and took them, one under each arm, into the bathroom, and Maddie followed. His arms looked like hot buttered toast, she thought, for the skin was as deeply tanned there as on his face and the fine hair on them was bleached to a bright gold, and at the thought she felt a sudden stab of acute nostalgia. It wasn’t now, the middle of 1953 in a hot sticky Boston summer, but a foggy and chill New Year’s Eve in London in 1948, and she was seeing him for the first time and falling suddenly and violently in love. He was as beautiful and adorable as he had ever been, more so in fact, and while he seized each naked small boy, as Daphne pulled their clothes off them, and dunked them in the bath and splashed and soaped them, she leaned against the door and watched, dreamy with contentment and love.