Affairs of the Heart

by Maggie Ford

  “Why can’t you be contented with things as they are?” she resisted. “Your dear father was. We have always had a fine enough living. I know you and Geoffrey are both ambitious, but at my age I don’t want all the worry.”

  “You have to leave the worrying to us, Mother,” he persisted, ignoring those lifted eyebrows. “Can’t you see that people will start going elsewhere out of sheer frustration? We’ll lose custom rather than stay as we are. That’s how it works. More and more people are pouring into London” – its better theatres and huge new cinemas, now showing nothing but talkies, were drawing in the crowds – “and they need places to dine afterwards. We can’t accommodate those hoping to dine at Letts with only our present number of covers. If we don’t expand, we’ll slowly go under. You wouldn’t want my father’s hard-won business to do that, would you, Mother?”

  He’d hit the nail on the head. He could see that point starting to win her over, but she was still not entirely convinced.

  “And where do you expect to find the money for all this?”

  She had asked this before, had pointed out that his father’s trust was not to be used willy-nilly, but patiently he again explained that the bank would advance funds if he presented them with proper statistics. He did not of course speak of the prospect of floating the company on the stock market if all else failed. Even so, she still pulled a face, much as she’d done before.

  “I don’t care for this borrowing, Henry. It’s a very dangerous habit.”

  “Everyone borrows these days. It’s part of finance.”

  “I still don’t like it, Henry. I am getting old and cannot face change. But I suppose you and Geoffrey must look to the future. I pray you young people know and understand the modem ways of the world enough to know what you are doing. But then, tomorrow belongs to you, Henry. I can only see yesterday. Perhaps you know best.”

  Hardly able to believe that his mother had in fact capitulated, though admittedly without actually having said yes, Henry told Geoffrey as soon as he and Pamela returned home from Egypt.

  “Let’s get on with it straight away before Mother changes her mind,” Geoffrey enthused and now it was Henry who held back.

  “Don’t start jumping the gun. There’s a lot to go into first, all the book work, meeting with the accountant, getting estimates, all sorts of things.” But enthusiasm was taking him over too. It was in his voice when he spoke of it to William even though the words of caution he’d given to Geoffrey still dominated. “Of course, there is a good deal to consider before it ever begins to get off the ground.” Yet for all his excitement about new premises, always at the back of his mind was Mary. Even as he told William of his plans for expansion, juggling with which might be best, enlarging the present restaurant or going for second premises, Mary and what he was to do with her hovered there in his head. Impossible to ignore it, leave her to bring up an illegitimate child alone, his bastard, yet he was scared witless that Grace might find out and of the consequences that could evoke. Then, as he talked to William of all his plans for the restaurant, an idea began to form in his head.

  What if he were to procure other premises and make concrete his promise of putting William Goodridge in as restaurant manager on a salary he couldn’t refuse, but on one condition – that he make overtures to Mary and offer her marriage, offer to become father to the child she carried? Surely she would jump at the chance, seeing no other way out, and surely William would not let slip this opportunity of a lifetime, of security, high standing, money? All that would be required of him would be to marry the very girl for whom he still carried love in his heart after all these years. He had already seen excitement shining in the man’s eyes at the prospect of this marvellous promotion. Surely the man would readily accept that other tantalising offer.

  “William.” Henry brought his voice down low. “There is one thing I have to mention. You can say no if you wish. Please don’t think this is…” He hesitated over the word “bribery”, feeling suddenly on level with a back-street tout. “There is one thing I might ask of you, a favour, in regard to the promotion I’m offering you.” There was no way he could put it that would be as delicate as he would have liked. “I really am at a loss as to how to put this to you, William. Listen, let’s have dinner together. I’ll explain.”

  * * *

  Intrigued, William sat opposite Henry over dinner at the Ritz – a most needless expense as William saw it – listening to the ways and means of drumming up cash, the possible need to persuade accountants, find financiers, entice investors, convince the banks, and wondered what all this had to do with him that Henry Lett needed to have dinner with him.

  “So you see,” Henry was saying as he touched a spoon to his sweet, a light Charlotte Russe, having eaten little of his first or main course, “it will all take a lot of thinking out, careful planning. It is a risk, a huge risk. I only hope we are doing the right thing.”

  “We?” William, toying with his own sweet, felt instantly cautious. Was Henry Lett expecting him to put his small savings into this venture? Was this the favour he was being asked of in return for being made restaurant manager? But by the sound of it, the new Letts would cost thousands – six figures, probably. His paltry savings book showed barely six hundred.

  “We – my brother and I,” Henry enlightened, pushing away his sweet plate and sitting back. “And, of course, if we do have to float the company, investors will obviously reap good benefits once it’s up and running.”

  William pushed back his plate also, but didn’t sit back. He was too tense. “Are you asking me to invest my savings in this business?”

  “Not unless you wished.” A light dawned in Henry’s eyes on seeing the other’s look. “Oh, no, I’ve not asked you here to take your money, William. No, I…” He broke off, and William saw him catch at his lower lip with his teeth. “If you did, of course, you stand to make yourself a tidy little sum. Once we’re off the ground and our creditors off our backs, this business will rock the whole of London. I’m certain of that. And…”

  Again he broke off. He took a deep breath as though steeling himself for something and sat forward on his seat.

  “William, what I wish to ask of you is far more serious than anything to do with business. It’s something about which I am going to have to swear you to secrecy, and if you say no, swear never to reveal to another soul what I’m about to say. And please, I would take it kindly if you try not to look upon me as a swine, for these things happen and are often beyond our control.”

  The man was looking positively sick, and by the time he had unfolded his story William too felt sickness in the pit of his stomach. How could poor Mary have been so treated? With all that had happened to her these past years, it was a wonder she hadn’t indeed ended her life as Henry had told him at one point she had come near to doing.

  He hadn’t set eyes on Mary since Geoffrey had left her, there no longer being any need for her to come near the restaurant. He had thought her absence would have got her out of his mind, but time after time he’d think of her, wonder how and where she was. Geoffrey had appeared with his new wife and the baby they called Edwin. The new wife was tall, strikingly attractive, very much the society woman. Mary clearly hadn’t been able to compete. William had always been as courteous to Geoffrey Lett as he was to Henry, but it had taken all his effort to face him calmly. Inside he had seethed knowing how Mary had been cast off. Typical of the attitudes of the wealthy towards ordinary people. He hated Geoffrey Lett. He had looked on the older brother as above all that sort of thing, loyal to his wife who, as he’d said that day many months ago, would have nothing to do with him. To realise how Henry had taken advantage of Mary, how he had got her pregnant and how, unwilling to ruin his own marriage in order to see her right, he was now asking this of him – to get himself out of a fix… William’s immediate impulse had been to say, “Go to hell!” But what about Mary? All he could do was dismally nod his agreement.

  He heard the sigh of immense
relief that seem to fill the hushed air of the carpeted Ritz restaurant. “You won’t regret it, William. I shall see you more than all right over this. I’ll even bring you into the firm, buy your shares for you. That’s how deeply grateful I feel.”

  “I’m not doing it for you.” William heard his voice stiff and harsh. “I’m doing it for her. If she’ll have me.”

  “I’m sure she will.” William’s hard tone had left Henry completely unruffled, so relieved had he been. “And I will keep my word, William. I will see you and she never want for anything. I’ll not only make you restaurant manager but I will bring you into the company. I promise.”

  William stood up abruptly. “No need, Mr Lett. I’ll marry her for you.” Without looking at the man he turned and left the restaurant.

  Five

  The neighbours were giving her sidelong glances; she knew they were whispering: “Divorced, you know. Expecting, you know.” Counting up on their fingers. “Why, my dear, you can see it! Who do you think the father can be? Not her ex-husband.” Hands to their lips. “My dear, how absolutely dreadful.”

  It wasn’t done, to be seen standing in the street gossiping like fishwives. Rather they met in tea-rooms over dainty sandwiches or tiny iced cakes and spoke in whispers as her name and her condition crept into the conversation.

  In the past she too had shared in such conversations, sitting across a small table listening to an acquaintance picking someone else to pieces. A customary pastime among the upper classes, whiling away a morning or afternoon as a variation to shopping. Now it was she who was the point of discussion, no longer invited to join anyone for morning coffee or afternoon tea.

  She’d been asked once, just after Geoffrey had left her. But they had only wanted to find out more about it all, drooling over it, hoping to gain a little information from her that could be passed on to other friends. She had refused the invitation, not too kindly, being in no mood for company, much less prying company. It had been her downfall. Had she accepted, cried on that person’s shoulder, confessed all, she’d have been the centre of attention of the There-but-for-the-Grace-of-God-go-I brigade; have been sympathised with, found company for, given advice to, coveted, accepted. But she had spurned the invitation, and they in turn spurned her.

  She seldom went out, would telephone to have her few groceries delivered, able to afford such service, the money Geoffrey had given her adequate for her needs still and accruing regular interest. Living frugally, for she ate little and no longer needed clothes to be seen in, the money would last her a long time yet. The baby when it arrived would cost little. She would feed it herself, and beyond nappies, which she would wash herself, and a few baby clothes, there’d be no need for any expensive outlay.

  Abortion out of the question as far as she was concerned, for a long time she had toyed with adoption, but as her abdomen swelled and the life inside her began to move about, it became hers and the slightest thought of giving her baby to someone else just broke her heart as though she had already given it away.

  The baby was due in six weeks’ time. That Sunday morning Mary sat gazing out of the window at the trees lining the road, their as yet skeleton branches being tossed back and forth by a damp and blustery March wind. Not a soul in the street. Still lingering in their beds, no doubt, this time of the morning.

  Nibbling the sandwich she had made herself, not really enjoying it but knowing she must eat for the baby’s sake, she glanced at the blazing fire filling the room with heat. Even so, the strength of the wind was pushing tiny puffs of smoke back into the room. She could smell the sooty stink of it. She would have to get a chimney sweep out some time in the week.

  A knock at the door made her jump a little. Few knocked at her door these days unless they were tradesmen, and no tradesmen were out on a Sunday.

  Getting up and putting her sandwich back on the plate, Mary made her way to the door. “Who is it?”

  The voice came muffled. “Mary? It’s Will – William Goodridge. Do you remember me, Mary? I need to see you.”

  Mary felt her heart stop for one split second as old memories chased one another like butterflies through her mind, the very next second to be replaced by consternation. Bad news? Henry? Geoffrey? What? Hurriedly she opened the door. “What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

  He smiled slowly, shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter. I just took it on myself to call on you. I hope you didn’t mind. Is it all right to come in?”

  She could only open the door wider and step back to allow him into the flat, the state of it flashing through her mind. “I’m in a little bit of a pickle at the moment,” she excused, leading the way to the lounge, already seeing it as he must see it: the dust, the bits lying around not put away. Snatching up a pile of undies awaiting ironing, she dropped them behind the sofa.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see.” She made her voice sound bright and casual, put on a smile, but nothing could hide the bulge of her stomach and the way she waddled. What must he be thinking? She saw herself through his eyes, as a harlot who must have been made pregnant during some casual one-night stand. Did he even see her as a prostitute, supposing that she must have sunk so low?

  Mortified, she bade him sit down, frantically clearing the small pile of magazines for him to sit. “Would you like some tea?”

  For some reason the offer seemed to make her position all the more cheap, but he nodded affably, and she hurried thankfully to the kitchen to put on the kettle and collect herself, to control the sick feeling in her stomach, her thumping heart compounding it. Coming back with the small tray of two cups, milk, sugar and teapot, she found him still sitting there, tall and straight – she might have said tense, as tense as she herself.

  “To what do I owe this call?” she began, again forcing brightness and, with an effort not to look too clumsy, easing herself into an armchair, glad at least that the furnishings were elegant, a legacy from the days of Geoffrey.

  William took a sip of his tea then put it down on the occasional table beside him. “It’s that I’ve been thinking about you a lot since your divorce. Several times it went through my mind to find out how you were but I didn’t think you would want to bother with the likes of me. When Mr Henry told me about how things have gone, it all seemed so very unfortunate. Sad.”

  Relief that she wasn’t being seen as a harlot was almost painful. She sat silent as he continued.

  “It’s been on my mind ever since he explained to me how things happened between you and Mr Geoffrey that I had to see you. In all these years I’ve never forgotten you, Mary. I often wished we’d… that things had been different.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said and immediately regretted what sounded like yet another rejection of him, though why he should see it that way she couldn’t begin to imagine. Thankfully he didn’t.

  “No need to be sorry. That’s how it happens. Of course, now…” He shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “You have nobody now. What I mean is, I still feel as I once did for you. After all these years, I still do.” He leaned towards her suddenly. “Mary, the purpose of my visit, if you’ll forgive me, is to ask you – you being all alone in the world in your condition, and myself still a bachelor with never an intention of marrying anyone unless it’s you – what I mean is, I’ve come to ask if you would do me the honour of thinking about you and me – us – getting married. I could give the baby my name.”

  “Will…” Disbelief enfolded her brain, unable to take in exactly what he was saying. “I couldn’t.”

  “If you don’t want to, I do understand that. I just thought I’d ask.”

  “You can’t want to marry me. I’ve behaved atrociously. Who’d want to marry me? Especially you.”

  “I wanted you to be my wife all those years ago. I still do. I’d rather not have sprung it on you this way, without giving you time even for me to come courting you again, but there is no time. Your baby will need a father. I can be that father. Mary, please, won’t you think about it
? Time is short.”

  He broke off, running out of words to coax her with. She sat staring at him, mouth open, heart racing, stunned, confused and sick from the suddenness of it all. Taking her silence as a refusal, Will looked away and, glancing down, picked up his hat which he had taken off on entering and put beside him on the sofa.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, standing up slowly. “It was a stupid idea.”

  “No!” She was on her feet, incredibly lithe for one so lumbered by her condition. “No, Will, wait! Sit down. I just need time to think. This has knocked me for six,” she added as he sat down again, and went on, “Please, drink your tea – it’s getting cold.”

  The most inane thing to say, yet he complied, picking up the cup and swallowing the tepid liquid in one gulp, replacing the cup in the saucer with great care as though he feared anything remotely more forceful might have shattered the porcelain.

  Silence fell between them while she debated with herself, her eyes lowered. Finally she looked up, arriving at a decision, her words hesitant.

  “William – it was kind of you to come and offer to do this. It was a big thing to do and I’m very grateful, but I feel it’s taking advantage of your good heart for me to jump at such a generous proposal. I did love you, William, all that time ago. But it was a long time ago, and, well, I need you to understand that I don’t feel about you that way I once did. Too much has gone by. I know you realise that I’m in a desperate situation and I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you. It’s just that I can see no other way out. I don’t mean for myself but for the baby’s sake.”

  He was staring at her. “Are you accepting my offer?” he asked.

  She nodded, turning her eyes away as he stood up and came over to her.