by Pamela Evans
Sometimes he felt tired of the struggle. Occasionally he even envied Patsy her simple philosophy of life.
‘You only want one roof to live under and one car to get about in,’ was the way she put it. ‘So long as you have food to eat and clothes to wear, why do you have to have more?’
‘It’s human nature to want better,’ was Mick’s answer to that.
‘And when you get better, it’s common sense to end it there.’
He didn’t agree with that. Once you started being content, you were dead.
But now Patsy was saying, ‘This motor must have set you back a bit?’
‘I’ll say it did . . . but I didn’t pay for it outright.’
‘Not many people do, not for expensive things like cars.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Is it new?’
‘Not brand new, no,’ he said with a hint of apology.
‘Don’t sound so sorry about it,’ she reproached him lightly.
‘Well, the Jag I had before was brand spanking new.’
‘You can always trade up later if it’s that important to you.’
‘ ’Course I can.’
‘Just enjoy what you have, Mick.’
‘It won’t be long before I can afford to trade this in for a better one, Patsy,’ he said, voice rising excitedly. ‘I’m on the up.’
‘Yes, I know you are, Mick,’ she said, sadness in her voice as they drove along the brightly lit seafront towards Hove. It was a pity success was so vital to him.
‘You do?’ He wanted reassurance.
‘I’m not blind. Anyone can see you’re going up in the world.’
It occurred to him that some women in her position might have used the term ‘we’, since she lived with him and shared his life. But Patsy knew she was only a temporary part of the equation. He made no secret of the fact that when he was ready, it would all be over between them.
Beside him in the passenger seat, Patsy was also thinking about the tenuous nature of her relationship with him and regarding it with a certain ambivalence. Because she loved Mick so completely, she empathised with him, even feeling anxious on his behalf in case Jane might not want him back. At the same time she was pinning all her hopes on that happening because if it did, he would come straight back to her, she had no doubt about that. Mick wasn’t the sort of man who liked being alone.
Patsy was still of the opinion that he enjoyed his life with her, and believed with increasing conviction that if he wasn’t so obsessed with Jane and his previous lifestyle, he might grow to love her - as far as Mick could love anyone except himself. Patsy had no illusions about that. He was one of the most self-centred people she had ever come across. Yet sometimes he could be the most tender and loving as well. There was no other man for her.
Because he didn’t feel the need to prove himself to her, and was therefore relaxed when they were together, she had got to know Mick very well over the years. In fact, she thought she probably knew him better than he knew himself. Having this insight into his character led her to suspect that the idea of going back to Jane would probably be more palatable to him than the actual reality of a return. It gave him a goal to aim for, driving him onwards and upwards, and was something he felt he must do. Patsy didn’t believe it was something he actually anticipated with any degree of pleasure. Maybe he had once, but not any longer.
Although she would never say so to Mick and he would never admit it to himself, Patsy thought that by his own standards and the things he considered important, he was a failure. He had got to the top the first time on credit; he was doing it a second time by breaking the law.
She didn’t love him any the less for this. She just wished he would settle for an ordinary life without the need for a huge amount of money, and accept a good thing when he had it. But Mick measured success in purely financial terms and refused to believe that you could succeed simply as a human being.
It wasn’t in Patsy’s nature to bear grudges or feel used. So far as she was concerned, she enjoyed her life with Mick, so if it came to that she could be said to be using him.
There was no point in her trying to stop him leaving when he was ready to go. She would lose him forever if she did that. Neither would she turn him away if he wanted her back. Many women would think it degrading to her sex to have such a tolerant and forgiving attitude towards a man. But it wasn’t in her to be otherwise, and so what else could she do? Trying to force him to stay wasn’t the answer.
Anyway, he might never leave. His going back to Jane could be one of those things he would talk about forever and never actually do.
Many times she had suggested that he contact Jane, just to let her know he was still alive. He got quite uppity at this; said that when he contacted his wife it would be to tell her that he was going back to her. And when he did return it would be in grand style. He never seemed to give a thought to how Jane was managing, or how she must have suffered over the years, and got very cross with Patsy if she pointed this out to him.
But despite all of this, Patsy would stay with him until he no longer wanted her. And until that day came, she would make the most of every moment and not think about the future because she couldn’t bear the thought of life without Mick.
Chapter Fifteen
The power cuts that were imposed throughout February 1972, as a result of the miners’ strike, created havoc in the cottage kitchen. It was the beginning of March before the pay dispute was finally settled and things got back to normal.
‘It’s a treat to be able to work properly again, isn’t it?’ remarked Marie one morning, as she removed trays of small cakes from the enormous electric oven Jane had invested in when she’d opened the shop.
‘Not half,’ agreed Jane.
‘It’s bad enough trying to keep the kids warm and fed during the blackouts, but when you can’t do your work either . . .’
‘I think I’d have gone nuts if it had gone on for much longer,’ said Jane for whom production had been seriously reduced by the electricity’s being turned off for hours on end.
‘Still, it’s all over now . . . and these little chocolate chip cakes smell delicious,’ said Marie, inhaling pleasurably.
‘Let’s spoil ourselves and have one with our coffee, shall we?’ suggested Jane, tempted by the sweet aroma.
‘Ooh, yes, please.’
Marie loaded the oven with more cake-tins while Jane put the kettle on.
‘Shall I take a batch of cakes over to the shop when the next lot is ready?’ Marie was able to suggest because she had learned to drive with the idea of helping with transporting the stock from cottage to shop.
‘Yes, please. They’ve been on the phone from the shop to say they’ve nearly sold out of apple cake already,’ said Jane, spooning coffee powder into two mugs. ‘But we’ll have a coffee break first. We can both do with a sit down as we haven’t stopped since first thing.’
‘We never seem to do enough apple cakes, do we?’ remarked Marie thoughtfully. ‘No matter how many of them we make, they’re always the first to sell out.’
‘That was the cake that started this whole thing and it’s still our most popular line.’
‘My favourite.’
‘Giles’s too,’ said Jane.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. He was never much of a cake eater until he tasted my apple cake. Now he’s a complete addict. Never puts on an ounce of weight either. It’s infuriating.’
‘That’ll be because of all the exercise he does.’
‘Yeah . . . he’s as fit as a fiddle. As well as the PE and games lessons at school, he also coaches the rugby team after hours.’
‘Not to mention running the gym club and the Riverside Juniors in his spare time.’
‘Mmm.’
Because the kitchen table was littered with the tools and ingredients of their trade, they took their elevenses into the living room where Shadow lay curled up on the mat by the fire, fast asleep, his silky black coat gleaming
.
‘That moggy certainly knows how to relax,’ laughed Jane.
The cat twitched one ear, opened one eye - and went back to sleep.
‘Talk about a life of luxury,’ said Marie. ‘I feel tired just looking at him.’
‘They say cats are relaxing creatures to have around.’
The two women sat either side of the fire, eating cake and drinking coffee, the strong March winds roaring around the house and rattling the windows. A shaft of watery sunlight spilled on to the red carpet and glinted on a brass plate and copper pan on the wall.
‘Compared to what my life was like before I got this job, I sometimes feel as though I have a life of luxury,’ confessed Marie.
Jane hooted with laughter.
‘When do you ever get the chance of any Shadow-style relaxation?’
‘I don’t mean it in that way. I mean, being involved in something I enjoy,’ she explained. ‘It’s made such a difference to my life, and I don’t just mean the extra money.’
Jane sipped her coffee.
‘I’m glad you’re happy with the job.’
‘I feel as though I’m part of the business rather than just a member of your staff,’ explained Marie.
‘That’s the way I feel about it too.’ Jane paused thoughtfully, cradling her mug in her hands. ‘I must say, I’m pleased with the way the business is going. The markets were good - they got me started - but it makes more sense to leave the selling to others so that I can concentrate on baking.’
‘Too true.’
‘I’m thinking about a new line, actually . . . a ginger cake.’
‘Sounds interesting.’
‘I’ve been experimenting but I haven’t got the flavour quite right yet. I tried it out on Giles the other day and we’re agreed it needs something else to give it an edge over all the other ginger cakes on the market. I’m not quite sure what, though.’
‘You still see a lot of your neighbour then?’ remarked Marie.
‘Yeah. It’s inevitable really since Davey and Kevin are practically blood brothers.’
‘Mmm.’
‘And as Giles and I are both on our own, it makes sense to team up for outings with the children,’ said Jane, suddenly feeling the need to justify herself to her sister-in-law.
‘I suppose he must be over his wife’s death by now?’
‘I don’t think he’ll ever really get over it, but he’s managing.’
‘How long is it now?’
‘Two years this November.’
‘As long as that? I suppose it’s time he got his life together.’
‘For a couple like Giles and Lena, it’s still early days,’ said Jane. ‘I’ve never come across two people as close as they were.’
‘You and Mick took some beating in that respect.’
‘We were close in that we’d been together a long time,’ said Jane. ‘And we got on well because I agreed with everything Mick said and did. But, looking back on it, I’m not so sure that we were actually all that suited.’
‘I don’t know how you can say that, Jane,’ said Marie, frowning. ‘There was never anyone else for either of you.’
‘You’re right about the physical side of it,’ she agreed. ‘But we never really talked about anything in any depth. It was all on the surface.’
‘I’m surprised to hear you say that,’ said Marie disapprovingly.
‘What I’m trying to say is . . . Giles and Lena each had their own interests. They retained their own individuality but still stayed close. They worshipped each other.’
‘So did you and Mick,’ said Marie, becoming noticeably tense.
‘Yes, we did at the time,’ agreed Jane. ‘But in the light of what happened, I don’t think I ever really knew Mick.’
‘Oh, Jane, how can you say that?’
‘The man I thought I knew wouldn’t have walked out and left me to cope with the mess he’d created,’ said Jane. ‘Nor would he have lied to me for months beforehand. ’
‘He only did that to protect you.’
‘Maybe, but when it came to the crunch he wasn’t there for me, was he?’ she said firmly. ‘He was off like a shot.’
‘You still feel bitter about it then?’
‘No, not really, not now. It’s all such a long time ago.’
‘Sounds as though you’re resentful.’
‘I’m not. Honest. I’m just being realistic. I think Mick and I being the perfect couple was just an illusion created by the fact that I was content to be dominated by him. I was never a partner with Mick, always a subordinate.’
‘Oh, Jane . . .’
‘I’m not blaming him,’ she was quick to point out. ‘It was just the way things were. I find it hard to identify with the person I was when we were together. You know, living for the sound of his key in the door and the next move up the ladder to that better house, the better car - all that dreadful one upmanship. In a way Mick did me a favour by leaving. At least it pushed me out into the world and forced me to find out about myself.’
‘You’ve certainly made a life for yourself and the children,’ said Marie, her dark looks contrasting with the white cotton mob-cap the women now wore for reasons of hygiene while they were working.
‘It’s amazing how you cope when you have to. I thought my life was over when Mick left. I was absolutely gutted and felt dead inside for a long time after. That’s why I find it easy to understand how Giles is feeling, I suppose.’
‘Yeah.’
‘It hurts me to think of what that man must be going through.’
‘You and he seem to be getting on really well?’ said Marie meaningfully.
‘Yes, we do . . . he’s a great friend and neighbour,’ said Jane lightly.
Marie kept her eyes fixed determinedly on the cat and Jane knew exactly what she had on her mind.
‘I’m not sleeping with him,’ she said.
‘Did I suggest you were?’ said her sister-in-law, looking up sharply.
‘No, but it was what you were wondering,’ said Jane firmly.
‘Well, maybe I was,’ said Marie, a flush suffusing her face and neck. ‘I suppose it’s only natural. I am Mick’s sister, after all.’
‘And he’s been gone for six years,’ Jane pointed out. ‘Surely you don’t expect me to stay celibate for the rest of my life?’
‘Of course I don’t,’ said Marie, but it didn’t ring true because she still had a blind spot when it came to Mick’s place in Jane’s life.
Jane couldn’t tell Marie the truth about her feelings for Giles: that she was in love with him and hoped one day they would be more than friends. She couldn’t tell her because Marie still harboured a dream that Jane and Mick would eventually get back together and they would all be one big happy family again.
As time had passed without word from him, Jane had tried to make Marie see how unlikely it was that he would ever return. But she was completely irrational when it came to her brother and couldn’t accept the idea of Jane’s finding happiness with anyone else. Occasionally Marie’s attitude annoyed Jane but she didn’t think it was worth making an issue of because she was very fond of her and they got on so well in every other way. Surely, as more time elapsed without sight or sound of Mick, Marie would face up to the fact that he wasn’t coming back and that the Jane and Mick era was over?
‘Mum . . . will you please tell Pip that she can’t sleep in the tent with Kevin and me tonight?’ Davey asked Jane who was in the garden pegging washing on the line. It was a fine Saturday morning in early-summer, a time of the week when she did battle with the backlog of domestic chores.
‘Why can’t she join you?’ she asked, as if she didn’t already know.
‘ ’Cause it’s a boy’s thing and we don’t want any girls hanging around.’
‘It isn’t only a boy’s thing,’ protested Pip. ‘Girls go camping as well as boys. I’ll be going away to camp with the Girl Guides when I’m older.’
‘Well, you’re not sleeping in the t
ent with Kev and me tonight,’ insisted Davey hotly. ‘You’d only spoil it . . .’
‘No, I wouldn’t!’
‘You would too! You’d be scared of creepy crawlies.’
Jane stopped what she was doing to resolve the problem.
‘How about if you and Melanie sleep in the tent tomorrow night, if it stays fine?’ Jane suggested to her daughter.
Pip thought about this. She was a leggy nine year old with big velvety eyes like her mother’s and light brown hair tied back in a pony tail. The recent spell of warm weather had tanned her skin to a smooth nut colour.
‘And the boys won’t be allowed to come in?’ she queried.
‘No, just you and Mel,’ promised Jane. ‘Why not ring her up to see if she fancies it?’ She paused. ‘So long as her mother approves.’
Pip disappeared into the house while Jane continued pegging out the washing, enjoying the light breeze on her face and the sun on her arms. Pip reappeared, smiling, with the news that her cousin was all in favour of a night camping out in the tent. It was half term and the children had a week’s holiday. Jane was hoping the good weather would hold. Camping out in the garden in the new tent Jane had bought for them was the latest craze. But they never stayed under canvas for long despite their very best intentions, and usually opted for the comfort and security of indoor living even before Jane had gone to bed.
She was on her way indoors when Giles appeared through the gap in the fence.
‘You must be a mind reader,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to make some coffee.’
‘Luck rather than telepathy,’ he said casually, following her into the kitchen. ‘I just called in to ask if you want anything from the supermarket, and to find out if Kevin can stay here with Davey while I’m gone? Save him dragging round the shops with me in such lovely weather.’
‘No to the first ’cause I have to go shopping myself later. And, yes, of course Kevin can stay here,’ she said amiably.