‘No, it’s not Moorgate. I’m afraid it’s me.’
Posy stared at him. ‘How d’y ou mean?’
He looked at her. ‘I’m leaving your mother,’ he said, quite gently but without any hesitation. ‘No, not because of Mary—that’s all done with—but because there’s nothing left between us. Whatever we had is finished.’
‘Finished?’
He sighed. ‘This is so difficult because whatever I say is going to sound utterly callous. I’m hoping that you’ve had enough experience of both of us to try to understand. Your mother doesn’t need me as a friend or a lover or a companion. Looking back I wonder if she ever did. I met her when she was anxious to get away from home and marriage was a wonderful escape. Of course it’s wrong—if tempting—to imagine that we weren’t happy. There have been some very special moments but there’s nothing left and I don’t want to waste any more time. Sorry. I’m not putting this very well.’
Posy was trying to stem a rising tide of anger. This was her first reaction: anger. She swallowed, her hands twisting together between her knees, and tried to answer calmly.
‘So, OK you’re bored, fed up, but does that mean you can simply walk out on your marriage? Isn’t that a bit extreme? Even irresponsible?’
He looked at her almost humorously. ‘Probably. But I’m going to do it anyway. If Selina loved me—oh yes, I know it sounds pathetic—all the humiliations wouldn’t matter. But she doesn’t. She isn’t unhappy that I’m going because she’ll miss me. She is losing a possession, not a husband. Her main fear is how she will explain it to her friends because, this time, there is no woman involved, only my own sense of worth and a few last rags of pride. It’s embarrassing for her.’
As Posy watched him, she realised that this time there was one very different emotion missing. When he’d tried to talk to her about Mary, there had been the element of guilt; the longing to be understood, forgiven. Now, he was indifferent. He felt she had a right to know, that it would be nice if she could see why he was leaving, but there was no pleading, no requirement for her approval.
Fear began to edge out the anger and Posy thrust her hands through her hair. ‘But how can you just walk out on us all? How can you do that?’
‘I hope that I shan’t walk out on you. Just because I shan’t be living with Selina in London doesn’t mean that I shall stop caring about you.’
‘But it’s not the same.’ She could hear her voice rising in panic and bit her lip, glancing round anxiously lest others had heard her. ‘It won’t be home without you,’ she muttered. ‘Anyway, where would you be?’
‘I shall be in Brecon.’ His voice was light with happiness and she stared at him incredulously. ‘I am going as an assistant to help people with learning disabilities.’
‘In Brecon?’ She tried to sound cool, even faintly amused. To her horror she felt an acute desire to sneer a little. Her mother’s sneer. She fought it back. ‘So what’s in Brecon?’
‘One of the L’Arche communities. They are committed to helping such people. It’s wonderful. I feel tremendously privileged and I can’t wait to get started.’
Looking at his face, alight with anticipation, Posy wondered if she’d ever really seen him before.
‘It sounds as if it’s all been arranged. So when are you going?’
‘Easter.’ He took a pull at his pint.
‘Easter?’
‘There was no point in procrastinating,’ he said gently, ‘once I’d taken the decision. I have to admit that I thought that Selina would have told you before this. I gave her the chance to do it, so that she could tell it to you from her viewpoint, but for some reason she hasn’t. I’m sorry it’s such a shock but it’s impossible for it not to be.’
‘So you won’t be there when I come home for the holidays?’
He looked at her for a moment and then shook his head. ‘No. Selina will keep everything. The house, savings, pensions, everything is hers. From that point of view nothing need change. Hector’s money paid off the mortgage so she doesn’t have to move although she might need to work. If she downsizes she could be quite comfortable.’
‘Does she see it like that?’ asked Posy drily.
‘Probably not, but those are her decisions not mine.’
‘You sound so … different.’
‘Callous? Selfish? Yes, I know. So your mother has repeatedly told me. Only, I don’t care any more, you see. I’ve done everything I had to do to support her and all of you and now it’s at an end. Now I want to do something for other people. Teaching is changing. My ways are old-fashioned and I don’t enjoy it any more. I still have it within me to be useful and I don’t want to waste the rest of my life pandering to the whims of a selfish woman or dealing with a new generation of children I no longer understand.’
‘What about me?’
He smiled tenderly at her. ‘You are Posy. I love you. Nothing changes that. I hope we’ll still see each other, stay in touch, spend time together.’
‘But how? How can we do that if you’re not at home any more?’
‘There will be ways. Come on, Posy. You’re not at home too much these days, are you? I know that I’m removing an aspect of security from your life but I think you’re old enough to cope with that. As to the financial aspect, you’ll find that the bank has had instructions to take care of you. Fees and allowances and so on have all been dealt with. You won’t suffer because I choose to be callous and selfish.’
‘It’s not a question of the money,’ she mumbled, near to tears. ‘It’s just it won’t be the same any more.’
‘I can’t deny that. I’m sorry, darling. I hate hurting you but I know that if I don’t do it now I shall never do it. I’m not abandoning you, Posy, just hoping we can do things differently and be flexible. I hope you’ll come to Brecon to see me and I can come here …’
‘One tuna and one beef?’ The waitress stood beside them, holding two plates.
‘Oh, yes.’ Patrick smiled up at her. ‘Thank you. Tuna for my daughter. Beef for me, please.’
Posy sat back in her chair, almost grateful for the interruption, her brain still reeling with the shock. She stared at the sandwich, her appetite ruined, and wondered how on earth she would manage to eat it. Bravely she picked it up—and put it down again.
‘So,’ she said, almost conversationally, trying to be adult, ‘tell me about this L’Arche place.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
On Sunday morning Mike bundled Luke into his clothes, whisked him out of his bedroom and hurried him downstairs. He was hoping that Melissa would be able to sleep as long as was necessary in order to recover from the journey back from Cornwall. She’d arrived just before six o’clock, climbing wearily out of the car and stumbling into the house, her face blurred with exhaustion. He’d been shocked by the way she’d looked but had allowed the words of reproach to die on his lips.
‘Oh, Mike,’ she’d said. ‘I’ve fallen in love with a farmhouse and with a man called Rob Abbot,’ and he’d returned her hug, holding her tightly, a look of mingled compassion and bitterness on his face.
She’d sat beside the fire with Luke in her lap whilst he heated soup and put hot-water bottles into her bed and then she’d talked and talked. He’d wanted to say ‘Stop, you’re overtired. Tell me tomorrow,’ but he’d caught the shadow of her fear; that she might never again have the energy to tell him all she needed him to know. By the time he’d persuaded her into bed she’d made it all clear to him; that she wanted to help Rob buy Moorgate; that Mike must have power of attorney.
‘You don’t mind?’ she’d kept asking. ‘Only it was so wonderful. I want to try to repay him. Oh, Mike, it was such heaven. I felt normal and fit and so happy’—and the tears had slid down her cheeks, dropping on to her hands, until she’d brushed them away impatiently.
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ he’d answered. ‘If it’s what you want…’
‘If only you could see it,’ she’d said, staring dreamily into the fir
e. ‘It’s such a lovely house. A family house. You and Luke will have the insurance money after … afterwards. But I want to use the money from the flat for Moorgate.’
‘Please,’ he’d said wretchedly. ‘Please, Melissa. I don’t care about the money.’
‘I know,’ she’d said quickly. ‘Oh, I know that, Mike, but I need you to understand.’
‘I understand,’ he’d said reassuringly. ‘Honestly, I do. I’m glad for Rob to have Moorgate after all he’s given you. It’s given you a stake in the future. I understand that.’
‘Yes.’ She’d looked at him gratefully. ‘It’s probably foolish but that’s how I feel.’
She’d talked on and on, describing, laughing, crying, until she’d been too exhausted to do more than climb the stairs and fall into the warm bed. He’d returned to sit by the fire and think about all that she’d told him.
Now, having fed Luke and settled him with some toys on his tray, Mike began to eat his own breakfast. He felt troubled and his heart was heavy. It seemed to him that Melissa wasn’t thinking clearly and that purchasing Moorgate for Rob was going to be much more difficult than she realised. It was unlikely, to begin with, that Rob would remain tamely in Cornwall for as many weeks as it might take to complete the sale. Melissa had been so tired and had looked so fragile that he’d been incapable of bringing her down to earth but he was finding it difficult to see how her dream might be achieved. Even as he wrestled with the problem, murmuring to Luke, his mind preoccupied, the door opened and Melissa came in. She wore a long green wrapper, her feet in espadrilles, a pashmina around her shoulders. Her eyes were enormous, dark-circled in her thin face, but she was smiling cheerfully.
‘Good morning,’ she said, bending to kiss Luke’s rosy cheek, taking the car which he held out to her with crows of pleasure. ‘Isn’t it a nice one? Look.’ She pushed it round his tray whilst he watched, chuckling, and then drove it lightly over his chubby fist and up his arm. ‘I wish I had a car like this one.’
‘How are you feeling?’ Mike stood up to make more coffee. ‘I was hoping you’d sleep in.’
‘I slept very well,’ she assured him. ‘I really did. But I wanted to see you and Luke. I’ve missed you.’
‘And we missed you, didn’t we, Luke?’
Melissa gave Luke his car and sat down at the table. It was comforting to be back, in these familiar surroundings, without the need to pretend, but her heart ached when she thought of Rob and of the old farmhouse at the moor gate.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ Mike turned to face her. ‘I’m very happy to help organise this, I really am, but I don’t think it’s going to be quite as simple as you’ve imagined.’
‘Why not?’ She looked alarmed. ‘Why shouldn’t it be simple?’
‘There are all sorts of reasons,’ he said gently. ‘To begin with, Rob is going to expect to hear from you regularly, isn’t he?’
‘Oh, that.’ Her face cleared. ‘Yes, I thought about that. He’s got the number of my mobile but he thinks I’m at work, you see. So we leave each other messages and I talk to him quite often. But he knows I’ve sold my flat and he thinks I’m staying with friends whilst I wind up my work. I’ve told him I’ve got a heavy case on so he doesn’t expect me to be too available.’
‘Right. OK. But it could take weeks to complete on Moorgate.’
‘I know.’ She was watching him anxiously. ‘I want you to have absolute power of attorney, Mike, so if anything happens you’ll just carry on dealing with it. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No, of course not.’ The light on the percolator shone red and he began to pour the coffee. ‘Look,’ he said, his back to her, ‘I’m sure we can work through the legal bits. You’re going to speak to Jenny in Truro and you can lodge the money with her for the deposit, and she has limited power of attorney to deal with the sale? Have I got that right?’
‘Quite right. It means she can sign all the papers for me and I’m going to ask her to advise Rob to take out a simple repayment mortgage. I know paying the mortgage isn’t a problem for him and it lets me out of having to have a medical. Jenny knows the truth, remember. I can absolutely rely on her.’
‘That’s fine but there’s the other side to it.’
‘What side?’
‘Rob himself He put the mugs on the table, picked up Luke’s car, which had fallen to the floor, and sat down again. ‘Look, Lissy, don’t you think all this is a bit tough on him?’
‘How do you mean?’ She looked puzzled.
‘How do you think he’s going to feel when he finds out the truth? At what point will you stop taking his calls? Think of the shock it will be for him.’
She was staring at him, huddled into her wrap, eyes wide with anxiety. ‘But what else can I do? I don’t want him to know, Mike. If I tell him he’ll want to come and find me, I know he will. I can’t bear the thought of it. Everything will change. There will be all that pity and horror. I can’t do that. I want to be free to … to just finish peacefully. Please, Mike, don’t ask me to tell him.’
‘I know how you feel’ He felt utterly miserable, hating to upset her, trying to think of a way which would be right for both of them. ‘But we have to think of Rob too. I want to do it your way but I don’t want the shock of it to ruin everything for him.’
‘Is that likely, do you think?’
Look, love.’ He took a deep breath. ‘From what you’ve told me this has been a really important thing for you both. Not just a light flirtation but something that would have gone on into a permanent relationship. From what I’ve heard about Rob I think he’s going to feel terribly hurt that you couldn’t confide in him. No. Wait. This isn’t a criticism. I know just how you feel and I quite understand but he might not, not unless it’s explained to him. After all, this poor guy is down there thinking you’re going back to him, that you have a life together. Try to imagine how he’ll feel when the letter arrives from the solicitor telling him that he’s suddenly the sole owner. I’m sure that he’ll be delighted to have Moorgate but I suspect that it’s you he wants, not a farmhouse.’
‘But what else can I do?’ she cried angrily. ‘How could I possibly tell him now, even if I wanted to? I can hardly introduce it into light conversation on the telephone, can I?’
‘Of course not,’ he agreed compassionately, understanding her desperation. ‘I absolutely agree that you can’t possibly tell him on the telephone.’
Luke was distracted from his game by the tone of their voices and Mike stood up, swung him out of his highchair and sat down again, holding him on his lap. Luke leaned against him drowsily, crooning to himself, and Melissa watched them both, her face softened by love and sorrow.
‘I couldn’t go back, Mike,’ she said quietly. ‘Even if I had the stamina, I simply couldn’t do it. Fancy walking in and saying, “Hi, Rob. Yes, great to see you too, and by the way …” I hear what you’re saying but I can’t think of a way round it. Oh, I can’t bear it. It was all so perfect.’
‘I know,’ he said quickly. ‘I can tell that. And we simply mustn’t destroy the memory of all that or ruin Moorgate for Rob but I think he’s going to suspect something’s wrong and I’d rather be prepared for it.’
‘Perhaps I could write to him.’ She sounded dejected, all the joy gone, and he cursed himself for spoiling it for her. Why should he care how Rob felt, after all? He’d never met the guy so why should he worry about his reaction? ‘I wasn’t really thinking. I’ve been so happy and, selfishly, I wanted to forget everything else except that happiness.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ he said strongly. ‘You were both happy and he’s going to have Moorgate. He’ll never forget that week, either. I just don’t want anything spoiled for either of you.’
‘But how could it be done?’ she asked wretchedly.
‘I have an idea,’ Mike said slowly. ‘He’ll have to know the truth but, because he loves you, he’ll understand what it meant to you as long as it’s explained properly to him. I jus
t don’t want him to have some kind of official letter out of the blue and if you write to him he’ll want to see you. So suppose I go down to see him and explain exactly how it is?’
She began to look hopeful. ‘Would you? But would that work? Suppose he refuses to accept Moorgate once he knows the truth?’
‘That is the danger.’ They stared at one another.
‘Let’s see if we can get it through quickly,’ Melissa said pleadingly. ‘He’s expecting me to be tied up for several weeks. Let’s hope we can get to completion and then you could go down to see him. That would be wonderful, Mike.’
‘OK.’ He sighed with relief. ‘We’ll leave it like that, then. Tomorrow morning you can telephone Jenny and tell her to get her skates on. If she has limited power of attorney it will save weeks. There’s no chain, nothing to hold it up. It could be done in a fortnight if we really tried.’
‘Bless you, Mike,’ she said gratefully. ‘And then you’ll go down and tell him?’
‘Whatever happens,’ he said, ‘I’ll go and see Rob and tell him everything. Drink your coffee and pour me some more, would you? Luke’s gone to sleep and I don’t want to disturb him.’
Walking back from the station, having seen her father off on the train, Posy was beginning to feel the need of someone to whom she could talk. She couldn’t decide what her stance should be. ‘Guess what! My dad’s going off to do this incredible thing. He’s giving everything up for it. Brave isn’t it?’ It reminded her of the Indians who left their families and went out with begging bowls. What was it called—sannyasi? She understood it to be some kind of spiritual quest, undertaken late in life, when they had fulfilled their commitments to their families, but it was rather different when it was your own father. Or she might take a different line. ‘My dad’s walked out on us. Chucked it all in. He couldn’t cope any more and he’s gone to live in a commune.’
At least Jude would sympathise. His father had walked out when he was hardly more than a baby and he’d had to cope with various men who had lived briefly with his mother before disappearing in due course. Jude had survived. She could talk to Jude. Jude was a bit like Hugh; there was a calmness, a stability, which was odd when you thought about how unstable Jude’s life had been.
A Week in Winter: A Novel Page 24