The Fountain

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Hallo,’ Rita said. ‘Don’t usually see you in here, do we?’

  ‘I’m looking for George. His mother’s had an accident. She fell down the stairs and broke her femur. They’re going to operate. Trouble is I’ve forgotten where George said he’d be tonight. You haven’t seen him, have you?’

  ‘Sorry, he’s not been in tonight.’ She turned to her husband. ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘No, not since this morning.’

  ‘Oh, well, it was a long shot. I’ll go back to the hospital.’

  ‘If there’s anything I can do, let me know,’ Rita called after her.

  Her husband grinned and took a swig from his glass. ‘You could have told her to try Virginia Bosgrove. I saw him pick her up in his car at lunchtime.’

  ‘Is that still going on? Poor Barbara. Do you think she knows?’

  He shrugged. ‘How should I know? And I’m not going to tell her. What the eye don’t see, the heart don’t grieve over. That man will get his just deserts one day, you mark my words.’ It sounded like a threat and she gave a little shudder of apprehension.

  Chapter Ten

  It was nearly midnight before Elizabeth went up to theatre and there was nothing more Barbara could do for her, so she set off for home again. As she rounded a bend, her headlights picked up a car parked in a part of the old road left behind when the bypass was built. It wasn’t until she drew level that she realised the car was George’s and there were two people in it. George and a woman. She braked, intending to confront them, but changed her mind and drove on. In any clash with George she needed to be able to think clearly and right now she was too tired for that.

  The two people in the car were silently staring ahead at the dark outline of the trees which had escaped destruction when the new road was built. A full moon hung over the branches and lit the scene in a silvery glow that was almost good enough to see by. At any other time, they would have called it romantic. Tonight there was bitterness and disappointment, anger and recrimination.

  They had been to Hunstanton for the day and it wasn’t until they were approaching Melsham she had brought up the subject uppermost in her mind. ‘Have you talked to Barbara about the divorce, like we agreed?’

  ‘I’m still gathering evidence. It’s tricky. They’ve covered their tracks too well.’

  ‘Excuses, that’s all it ever is with you.’ Her voice was harsh with bitterness. ‘I told you what would happen if you let me down again, didn’t I? Now you can take me home.’

  ‘Virginia, you’re being silly,’ he had said, pulling into the lay-by.

  ‘Yes, silly to think you could ever change, silly to think you would give up your comfortable life for me. Well, I’ve come to my senses…’ Her anger gave way to tears. She made no attempt to wipe them away, was hardly aware of them, as she tried to see into a future without him. Always holding herself in readiness for him, knowing half Melsham knew what was going on and the other half must be kept in the dark at all costs, had cut her off from any social life worthy of the name. She had been every kind of a fool, still was if she didn’t manage to harden her heart and resist the overwhelming desire which threatened to crumble her resolve to dust. ‘Leave me and go home, George, you’ve made your choice.’ She went to open the car door, but he grabbed her arm.

  ‘For God’s sake, Virginia, don’t be so melodramatic, it’s only a slight delay. Have a little patience.’

  He was startled when she screamed with hysterical laughter, making so much noise she could not hear a word he was saying, and when he tried to touch her, she shrugged him off. He started the engine and drove her home. She had quietened by the time he stopped at her gate, but she flung herself out of the car and slammed the door without speaking. He drove home, so angry and frustrated he could not think coherently.

  Barbara, still fully dressed, met him in the hall. He put his briefcase down on the polished wood floor, endeavouring to switch off his anger and become the long-suffering, hard-working husband. ‘You needn’t have waited up.’

  ‘I had to. I’ve been trying to contact you all evening. I tried everywhere, council offices, Donald Browning, The Crown.’

  ‘Why? I thought I told you I had a Rotary dinner. I couldn’t get away.’

  She resisted the temptation to call him a liar. ‘Your mother’s had a fall. She’s in Melsham General—’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you say so before, instead of rabbiting on about where I’d been?’

  He was seething with anger, but she was sure it had nothing to do with her; the mood had been on him before he came into the house, but if she were not careful she would bear the brunt of it. She answered him calmly. ‘She fell down the stairs. When I left the hospital an hour ago, she was being taken up to theatre to have a broken hip pinned.’

  Without another word, he turned on his heel and went out again. Barbara heard him roar off down the drive, then went to bed. Although she was exhausted, she didn’t sleep, her mind was too full of what she had seen in that lay-by and what she intended to do about it. The woman had been Virginia, she was sure of it. George had not changed and she supposed he could not change; she had been wrong to hope. She felt empty, as if her life had been drained from her; there was no emotion, no passion, she was too numb for that. She lay there, staring out of the window at the night sky, until the stars faded and the sun rose. It was not a time for confrontation or for making irrevocable decisions which she might later regret. Her punishment, so long dreaded, was here and now, and there was nothing she could do but take it on the chin and not let anyone see how much she was hurting. Automaton-like, she rose and dressed and went downstairs to cook the children’s breakfast and see them off to school.

  George sat at his mother’s bedside all night, watching and brooding. Full of his own importance, things he had to do, the election campaign, pleasures he could never share with her, he hadn’t been to see her for weeks. Yesterday, he had been out with Virginia, while his mother lay unconscious at the foot of the stairs, tripped by a frayed carpet he should have replaced long before. Without her, he would have amounted to nothing, just another working-class lad living for pay day every week, with no ambition, no drive. He owed his success to her. It was dawn when he saw her eyelids flutter and leant forward to take her hand. ‘Mum.’

  She opened her eyes and murmured, ‘Ah, George, you came, then…’

  Even that sounded like an accusation. ‘Of course I came. The minute I heard. How are you feeling? The doctor says you’re going to be as good as new…’ He stopped because she had gone back to sleep.

  The door opened behind him and a nurse came in. ‘Mr Kennett, I think you should go home and rest. Come back this afternoon. Mrs Kennett will be awake by then and you’ll be able to talk to her.’

  In the ten days she was in hospital, he visited her every day, was more often at home in the evenings, took more interest in the children, making Barbara wonder if his mother’s accident had made him see the error of his ways, and he had at last given Virginia up. She could only take each day as it came, and hope it would last.

  Two months later everyone but George was astonished to read the announcement of Virginia’s engagement to Donald Browning in the Melsham Gazette. Barbara didn’t know what to make of it, but hoped that she had been right and Elizabeth’s accident had brought George to his senses.

  Elizabeth was relieved. ‘About time too,’ she said when George went to visit her. He had stopped all his other work to put his men onto building her a bungalow in the garden of The Chestnuts, but until it was ready he called in to see her every evening before he went home. She had been knitting a jumper for Jay-Jay while listening to the wireless, but when he came in she switched it off and put her knitting to one side. ‘You must offer to give her away.’

  He was appalled. ‘I can’t do that.’

  He had been hurt and angry with Virginia when she told him. ‘You won’t be happy,’ he had prophesied. ‘You can’t be happy with anyone but me and I need you…’<
br />
  ‘We’ve been through it all before, George, and enough is enough. Donald’s been wanting to marry me for years. You and I are finished.’

  ‘You can’t mean that.’

  But it appeared she did. A fortnight later the wedding invitation had arrived, addressed to Mr and Mrs George Kennett. He was forced to congratulate Donald and accept. But going to the wedding was one thing, acting in an official capacity quite another.

  ‘Why not?’ Elizabeth demanded. ‘It will silence the gossips. You’ve been given a chance to put things right, which is more than some men get…’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I do, you know. I’m not blind and I’m not deaf. It’s not fair on Barbara or your children.’

  He gave a cracked laugh. ‘Had it never occurred to you that Barbara is not the innocent she seems? The truth is, she’s got someone else, has had for years.’

  Elizabeth was shocked. ‘I don’t believe it. I’m sure I’d know…’

  ‘Why should you? He doesn’t live round here and she’s very clever.’

  ‘Then you’d better do something about it. Either prove it or forget it.’

  ‘That’s easy for you to say. You and my father loved each other…’

  ‘He was taken from me,’ she snapped.

  ‘I know, but I was simply pointing out that you were lucky not to be stuck in a loveless marriage. It’s more than simply apportioning blame and putting an end to it. If Barbara counter-sued she’d get custody of the children and that would break my heart. Besides, there’s no point now, with Virginia getting married.’

  ‘Exactly,’ she said.

  The day of the wedding, the week before Easter 1932, was fine and sunny, though not yet warm. Virginia, dressed in pale-blue crêpe, with a large picture hat of pale-blue straw trimmed with silk flowers and blue velvet ribbon, hung on George’s arm as she went down the aisle. Besides the whole Kennett family, there was a handful of guests filling the first two or three pews of St Andrew’s church. Donald’s son and his family, over from Canada, and his brother from Yorkshire, were on his side of the aisle, together with a representative sprinkling of working colleagues, including Colin and Rita. Colin had been yard manager at Kennett’s ever since Donald took over the hardware shop. His steady climb up through Kennett’s had surprised everyone, though apart from Barbara and Rita, the Kennett and Younger families did not meet socially.

  Barbara, in a straight lime-green silk dress with a tiered overskirt of matching lace, and a navy domed hat with a turned-down brim which she hoped would hide her eyes, hadn’t wanted to come, but it would have looked odd to refuse, especially as George had been inveigled into giving the bride away. She guessed he was using the occasion to get the message across that rumours there was anything between him and Virginia were unfounded. She became sure of it when she heard his speech at the reception held in the function room of The Crown.

  ‘I’ve known Virginia many years,’ he said, smiling. ‘Though I hesitate to tell you how many. Looking at her today, you wouldn’t believe me anyway.’ He paused for the laughter, which rippled for a moment and faded. ‘But that is not why I agreed to give her away.’ His choice of words was particularly apt, Barbara decided, as he continued. ‘As most of you know, she became a member of our family when she married my wife’s father, and as a member of the family, she is loved and cherished by us all.’ He paused again. ‘I would not give her away to anyone, but Donald is also a very special person, friend and colleague and, after today, also part of the family. I give you a toast: the bride and groom, Virginia and Donald.’ He raised his glass and looked towards the newly-weds. ‘To you both. May you have long life and happiness.’ He took a sip as others rose and echoed the toast, but only Barbara noticed the twitch in his jaw, which told her he was under severe strain.

  She supposed she ought to be pleased if the marriage meant the end of George’s affair, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe it and felt desperately sorry for Donald. He appeared to be happy, replying to the toast and chatting to everyone. Virginia was laughing a lot, accepting kisses and good wishes as if she really was a bride in love with her husband.

  ‘Funny match, don’t you think?’ said a voice at her elbow.

  Barbara turned to find Rita beside her in a pink and fawn check dress which made her plump figure look even plumper. She had a huge black straw hat on her red curls. ‘How so?’

  ‘He’s a bit old-fashioned, not even good-looking, and she’s…well, she’s younger and taller than he is, and glamorous too. I can’t help feeling he’s bitten off more than he can chew.’

  ‘Let’s hope not. He deserves some happiness.’

  ‘Don’t we all.’

  Barbara found herself wondering if there had been more problems in the Younger household. ‘That’s true. How are things with you?’

  ‘Oh, so-so. Zita’s left home, so we don’t have her wages coming in anymore and things are tight.’ Zita had been working at a horticultural nursery ever since she left school. It paid a pittance but it was better than no job at all. She had always been artistic and wanted to be a sculptress, to be famous and paid for her work, but nobody else believed it was possible. ‘Colin was always complaining about the mess she made in the house with bits of stone and plaster and one day they had an almighty row and she moved out. She is eighteen, after all. She’s got a one-bedroom flat at the top of Regency Terrace.’ She paused and looked closely at her friend. ‘What about you?’

  ‘We’re all fine. Just fine.’

  That was palpably untrue, but Rita did not challenge it. Instead, she said, ‘Let’s have coffee in Sadlers on Wednesday morning. We haven’t had a chat for ages.’

  ‘Good idea. I’ll meet you there.’

  Rita left to join Colin who was becoming noisily tipsy. Somehow she had to drag him away before the booze loosened his tongue. She didn’t want him telling all and sundry what he knew about Virginia Bosgrove’s past love life, mainly because it would upset Barbara.

  ‘Damn farce, if you ask me,’ he said, as she joined him to see the newly-weds off with old shoes and empty tin cans tied to the back of their car. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Kennett hadn’t put him up to it.’

  ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘Smokescreen. To stop the gossip. Councillor Kennett is putting himself up to be a magistrate. Has to be whiter than white for that.’

  ‘Where d’you hear that?’

  He tapped his nose and grinned. ‘A little bird told me.’

  Slowly, as one year and then another passed, the economy began to pick up. Most of the properties in Melsham’s industrial site were let to small companies which were producing consumer goods like bicycles, wireless sets and vacuum cleaners. And those in good jobs were looking for houses. On the more affluent side of town, two streets of new dwellings were being put up for four or five hundred pounds freehold or ten shillings a week, all with bathrooms and small gardens, and it went without saying that George was building them.

  Nick disappointed Barbara by not passing the entrance exam to go to the grammar school with Alison, but George said it didn’t matter because he would be working in the business with him. ‘It will be Kennett and Son,’ he told her.

  ‘Don’t you mean sons?’ Barbara queried. ‘Don’t forget Jay-Jay.’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten him, but he has only just started school, it will be a long time before he can join the firm, won’t it? And to be honest I’m not sure he’s got what it takes. He’s more like you, artistic, not practical.’

  He did have a point and, besides, she really didn’t want either of her sons being taught George’s idea of good business practice. Reminded that her younger son ought to be in bed, she rose and went upstairs to his room.

  He was sitting at the desk George had bought him the year before, his red-gold head bent over a sheet of paper. When her shadow fell over him he quickly covered the paper with his arm. She smiled. ‘What are you drawing? Can I see
?’

  Slowly he slid his arm out of the way to reveal a surprisingly good caricature of George, with beetling black brows and an oversize mouth. On his barrel-like chest was a huge blue rosette. He grinned sheepishly. ‘You won’t tell Dad, will you?’

  She laughed in delighted surprise. ‘No, I don’t think he’d appreciate it. Now, it’s time you were in bed.’

  She told herself she didn’t have favourites, that she loved all her children equally, but she was especially close to Jay-Jay and, as he grew, she imagined she could see something of Simon in him, the cheerful countenance, the desire to please, the affectionate nature. She hoped he would grow up with Simon’s sensitivity and not be like George. Nowadays she rarely thought of Jay-Jay as anything but George’s child, but if the truth came out, what would she do? Deny it with her last breath, she supposed, though how convincing she would be under pressure she had no idea and prayed she would never be put to the test. She kissed him goodnight and went back to the sitting room. George had gone out again, Nick was building something with his Meccano and Alison was doing her homework.

  Barbara sat up in bed, wondering what had woken her. She lay listening to the wind howling round the house, rattling the windows and making a door bang. She heard something crash outside and went to open the window. As soon as she loosened the catch, the casement was whipped out of her hand. She wrestled with it a moment before forcing it shut, then stood and watched the trees at the end of the garden, swaying to and fro in a kind of frenzied dance against a sky where the clouds scudded like huge black galleons on a storm-lashed sea. One of the trees must have come down because she could see the chimneys of the manor, never visible before. It was that which had woken her.

  ‘George, wake up.’ She went back to the bed and shook him. ‘George, there’s a tree down in the garden.’

  He groaned and stirred. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘There’s a tree down. I heard it go. Just listen to the wind. Your mother will be terrified.’