The Foreigner

by P. G. Glynn

She had said all this from her position of stillness and he was unnerved by it. “Well rid?” he echoed, his mind in a spin. “What are you saying?”

  “I’d have thought I’d made that plain.” She smiled again. “I’m leaving you – and the School – to flounder without me. Oh, don’t think I won’t want my pound of flesh! We’ll need to halve everything, but the lawyers can take care of that as I won’t be around to do so.”

  “Where will you be? Who is he – the man you’ve been seeing?”

  “I’ll be in New York, co-running an off-Broadway theatre,” Judith paused there for maximum effect before adding, “with the woman I love.”

  +++++

  Marie was startled when Guy arrived without warning after midnight. Fortunately, she and Nell were still up. They had been sitting in the kitchen chatting over mugs of cocoa when the front door bell rang. At first they had thought it must be an officer from Holloway Prison in search of a missing prisoner, as had happened previously when a woman somehow managed to scale the forbidding walls. Then they saw Guy standing on the doorstep, wild-eyed and almost incoherent to begin with. It took a glass of brandy to calm him sufficiently for intelligible speech.

  “What on earth has happened?” Marie asked him when he was calmer. “No harm has come to James, has it?”

  “James?” Guy echoed blankly.

  “Over there in the jungle, among those Communists,” Nell prompted.

  “No … no, James is safe, as far as I know.” After taking another gulp from the glass Nell had refilled, he said: “It isn’t him. It’s … Judith. She’s … she’s leaving me and … and going to New York to live.”

  “New York?” Marie and Nell queried together. “Why would she go there?”

  Leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, Guy gave a great sigh before telling them: “It isn’t so much why she’s going as who she’s going with. Prepare yourselves for this: Judith and Dolly Martin are having a relationship!”

  There was a stunned silence.

  Marie was the first to speak. Reaching out to him she gasped: “They can’t be! I mean … Judith is a wife and mother and … and Dolly must be pushing sixty, besides which she used to be a man-eater. Guy, darling, you can’t be serious!”

  “I can be – and am,” he said, glad of Marie’s hand on his. Sitting in the warm kitchen with the two women as the brandy merged with the gin and created a welcome light-headedness, he went on: “I’m sorry to come running to you, especially at such an hour, but I truly didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Don’t apologise, whatever you do,” Marie told him. “You could hardly have kept this bombshell to yourself. And we’d have been offended - wouldn’t we, Nell? – if you’d tried to. Are you certain, though, that it isn’t some kind of sick joke?”

  “Absolutely certain. Judith has written to James and Edward already, telling them of her intentions. They won’t have received her letters yet as she was only posting them after speaking to me. She and Dolly plan to be off next week.”

  “Dolly aside,” said Nell, “how do you feel about Judith leaving?”

  “The timing’s ironic,” Guy said pensively, “because tonight I’d finally decided I couldn’t continue with such a sham of a marriage. It seems that the right moment had quite simply arrived for us to go off in separate directions. The only shock is Dolly’s involvement – along with the fact that Judith has leanings I never suspected.”

  “Thank goodness it’s only your pride hurt – not your heart!” observed Marie.

  “How could it be my heart,” he asked, gazing at her, “when, as my wife so rightly reminded me earlier, that belonged to someone else long before she even came on the scene?” He hurried on: “It’s the boys I’m most concerned with, and their reactions. I can imagine how I’d have reacted, as a young man, to know that my mother preferred women to men … and that she had taken up with a woman who once sabotaged my grandfather’s theatre, causing endless grief.” He absently ran his fingers through his hair before adding: “I haven’t mentioned, have I, the reason why Judith and Dolly are heading for New York? Dolly has an option on an off-Broadway theatre. It sounds to me as if she sees herself as a sort of latter-day Lilian Baylis and expects to do for the Franklyn what Lilian did for Sadler’s Wells and the Old Vic.”

  “Then let’s become saboteurs!” suggested Marie with a grin. “That would be perfect justice, wouldn’t it?”

  Guy and Nell agreed that it would, which caused them all to smile. After a bit, Nell said: “I expect your sons will surprise you by taking this in their stride. You’ve brought them up well and James and Edward both have sensible heads on their shoulders - besides which National Service is adept at turning boys into men. They’ll probably be shocked at first, but will soon get on with things. Will one, or both, eventually help with the Brodie School, do you think?”

  “In the long-term Edward almost certainly will, though I have doubts about James – none of which assists in the short-term, I’m afraid.” He looked at Marie again, saying: “On my way here, despite the state I was in, an interesting possibility popped into my head. Would you consider a change of career? I can think of no better person than you to help me run the School.”

  The days of Claridge’s Linen Room long behind her, Marie was now an Assistant Housekeeper, which was marginally more fulfilling than sorting linen. Her heart lifted at Guy’s proposition and she responded: “Certainly I’d consider it! But, so that I’m clear-headed while considering, can my decision wait till morning?”

  “It can,” Guy said, knowing that her agreement would give his life meaning again.

  “It’s morning already,” said Nell, beaming at them both. “At least, it has gone three. Who, aside from me, could eat an early breakfast?”

  60

  Suzy dreamed repeatedly of Aunt Lenka and Vienna. She had been doing so since her return from Austria and the dreams disturbed her. Naked people rose from a river and urged her to take off her clothes so that the sun could kiss her skin. Some of them were men and they were looking at Suzy as if she were already undressed … as if they could see her breasts. When she started dreaming she didn’t have breasts in reality so it was weird to dream of having them and then awaken. She drifted from the river to St Stephan’s cathedral, where her aunt was waiting. Aunt Lenka, Suzy saw as she approached, was not alone. A tall man wearing a crown stood with her, half in shadow. Suzy could not see his face … but could see a big nipple coming towards her as if detached from its owner. The nipple kept coming and Suzy started to run. She was still running when she woke up.

  It was bewildering that this dream, which made no sense, kept recurring and often its contents spilled over into her life in Gilchrist – but only until she was fully awake and able to throw herself into the new day.

  Letters from Aunt Lenka arrived regularly and Suzy looked forward to them. They were rather like Nama’s letters in that they were so interesting and they were special because they always began ‘My dearest little Suzy’ and continued as if written to a grown-up. While everyone over here still treated her as a child, Aunt Lenka understood that at almost fifteen she was virtually an adult. And as an adult Suzy could make her own decisions about where and how to live once she had done her School Certificate.

  Daddy seemed even more opposed to her going back to Vienna than he had once been about her going to stay with Nama in London. His opposition – and Nama’s – she had to admit made her all the more determined to do it. Was something wrong with her, that she kept wanting to do the opposite of what others wanted? It seemed to Suzy currently that she was at odds with everyone except Aunt Lenka, who created wonderful word pictures of life in Vienna.

  Suzy was not thinking of living over there, or even of spending a whole year with Aunt Lenka. There were too many things she wanted to do here. So she was just thinking of going back to see her aunt and Nandad … and understand the dream, if it was within understanding.

  She knew she had hurt Nama by ignoring her w
arning about Aunt Lenka – and, worse, by becoming fond of her. Nama had expressed her hurt both in words and in a brief period of refusing to speak to Suzy. How awful her silence and cold expression had been! Having always associated Nama with warmth, Suzy had found her coldness difficult to deal with. But she had tackled it by explaining that people of all ages had to make up their own minds about things … and that Aunt Lenka had let Suzy look into her heart. It wasn’t that she doubted Nama about Carla, or that she didn’t truly sympathise with her. It was simply a matter of forgiveness … and of the past being over.

  Nama’s response, that without care the past could recur, had bothered Suzy for a bit back then but other things had happened since and now Great-Granny Jenkins was on her last legs so the whole family had that to be bothered with. Suzy had never really taken to this Great-Grandmother, so she was chiefly concerned with the fact that the crisis was bringing Nama back to Gilchrist!

  +++++

  Lucy’s telephone call had not been altogether unexpected. Mam had looked very frail when Marie last saw her – and she was, after all, in her eightieth year. Even Mam could not go on forever and Lucy had said it was a very bad bout of pneumonia.

  Seated aboard her train from Paddington, Marie wondered whether she would arrive in time to see her mother alive. It was important that she did, in the light of Mam’s Will – or, rather, lack of one. She needed to ensure that Lucy’s future in Beulah was secure. Other than that, she would be a hypocrite to pretend she felt anything for the woman who had been the blight of Lucy’s life. Fortunately Lucy didn’t see it like this, but then she knew nothing of the life she might have lived. Perhaps when Mam died she would spread her wings. Or perhaps she would still see herself as tied to the village. It was all a question of how one looked at things.

  Marie had been looking at life from a new perspective since taking up Guy’s offer. When she agreed to join him in running his School she had doubts about her potential as a teacher, it never having been tested before. But under Guy’s guidance – and with additional help, she felt sure, from Pa – she had found that teaching drama was almost more rewarding than being an actress. It was hugely rewarding, too, to work side-by-side with Guy as partners in a venture that made an acknowledged difference within the acting profession. Their students were achieving unusual successes, which meant that the School was attracting more and more of the right kind of attention. And now that Edward, fresh from his National Service, had joined them as a tutor Marie had a strong sense of being part – at last! – of the Brodie family.

  She had failed in one respect, however. Though she had done her best to help him see her as a mere mortal, not as some lofty goddess, Guy still had her up there on a pedestal. Which could be embarrassing at times, especially when in front of Edward he credited her with every fresh breakthrough by the School. Both Edward and James had had enough to deal with in their lives, particularly since the manner of their mother’s departure, without their father openly indulging in hero-worship of Marie. She needed to address this, flattering though it sometimes was, since it couldn’t go on. Nell had suggested that sleeping with him would solve the problem!

  Marie wasn’t sure whether she was serious or not. Nor was she at all sure that such a ‘solution’ wouldn’t create more problems that it resolved. But these days she kept seeing his father in Guy, who physically bore a startling resemblance to Charles as Marie first knew him at the Tavistock. As well as this being unsettling, she had always loved Guy for himself. Well, at the very least, their current situation was interesting! Marie was certain of just one thing: if she and Guy were to go to bed together, the initiative had to come from him.

  She turned her attention to Suzy, who she would soon be seeing. Her heart lifted at the thought and simultaneously sank. She couldn’t think of Suzy without thinking of Lenka’s summons to Vienna. Time was passing so fast and Marie had long ago had to accept Suzy’s fondness for Lenka as well as her determination to ignore all advice regarding her great-aunt. Yes, Suzy was as headstrong as Marie herself had once been! It had begun to seem, both to Marie and Hugo, that their best hope lay in Lenka herself bringing Suzy back to her senses. They were united in realising that their initial opposition had only served to make her more determined. She was seeing Lenka through rose-tinted spectacles, partly because that was how she wanted to see her. Teenagers needed someone to admire and emulate and, from a distance, Lenka was filling that role for Suzy. Things would be very different, though, if and when Suzy actually went to Vienna. She would not be at risk in the way Carla once was, but she would be at risk – hugely – of disillusionment.

  This was the last thing Marie wished for her but, as the years passed with Suzy as set as ever on going to Vienna, she had begun to concede its inevitability. She sighed as her train reached Abergavenny. Why could life never be simpler?

  +++++

  Death was not simple either. Marie arrived to find Lucy busy in the kitchen and Alice crying at Mam’s bedside. Crocodile tears they were, given that Alice had had a Will written for her mother to sign and had been livid when Mam hadn’t signed it. The Will had made Beulah over to Alice and Stan with the proviso that Lucy could live there for the ‘foreseeable future’. Well, at least Mam had had the wisdom not to sign – probably helped by her life-long belief that writing a Will was like tempting Providence to die! But dying intestate would be a big mistake.

  Janet was lying very still, her face almost as pale as the pillow on which she lay. Acutely conscious of the uncharacteristic stillness as she took her place opposite Alice, Marie feared momentarily that she had arrived too late. Then she saw her mother’s eyelids flutter and said: “Hello, Mam – it’s me – Marie. How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve felt better,” Janet responded, opening her tired eyes long enough to focus on her first-born before closing them again. “My, you took your time! I wasn’t sure I’d last till your arrival.”

  “I was. You always had a will of iron.”

  “Did I?” Janet smiled. “Perhaps you’re right. Alice, instead of sitting there snivelling, go and help your sister in the kitchen.”

  “No, Mam, I don’t want to leave you.”

  “You’ll soon have no choice, when I do the leaving! Now off you go.” With obvious reluctance Alice went, blowing her nose loudly as she did so. Once she had gone, Janet said to Marie: “There’s something I want you to do for me. Hurry now and find a piece of paper and a pen.” This was duly done, after which she said: “Write down my wishes and I’ll sign it.”

  As Marie wrote the few words Mam dictated she felt a new respect for the mother she had never loved. Just as she finished writing there was a knock on the front door and it was obvious from voices in the hall that the Baptist Minister and his wife had arrived – an arrival that could hardly have been more apposite. Marie decided, as she read the words aloud and Mr and Mrs Griffiths witnessed Mam’s shaky cross on the document, that God must truly be on Lucy’s side!

  +++++

  Suzy had never seen a dead person before and it was a shock to see Great-Granny laid out in her coffin in the front parlour at Beulah. She was reminded of being at Madame Tussaud’s with Nama, except that the people in there were made of wax and had never lived or breathed. How odd it must be, to stop breathing and leave your body! It was obvious that the essence of Great-Granny had gone somewhere, because all that was left was a sort of shell. Suzy said: “I expect that dying is like being a butterfly as it’s released from its chrysalis. How lovely, to fly after being shut up inside old bones and wrinkled skin!”

  “Yes,” agreed Daniel, while Robert just looked doubtful, “and look, her skin has lost its wrinkles!”

  Listening, Marie marvelled at Suzy’s perception of death. She also agreed with Daniel that Mam looked young again. She had never seen her mother look as peaceful and reckoned the peace was her reward for having done right by Lucy at the end. Alice could argue all she liked that she and Stan had a claim on Beulah, but Mam had made her wishes cle
ar and Mr Griffiths had helped in this because Alice would not openly challenge him. The thing that most gladdened Marie’s heart was Mam’s acknowledgement of Lucy’s daughterly devotion over the years, summed up in the words: ‘Lucy, my youngest and most dutiful girl, has earned Beulah and it is my wish that she inherits it with its contents – Marie and Alice each to choose one item to remember me by.’ It went without saying that an aggrieved Alice had chosen the most valuable item she could find – the grandfather clock given to Mam and Pa as a wedding present by Gramps and Grandma Jenkins. Well, what else would one expect? Poor Alice, whose dissatisfaction with life was now so etched in her expression that she was old before her time!

  The whole family and half the village having seen Janet, she could be laid to rest. Dai-the-Death, important in his black suit, entered the premises and said: “Anyone else want to pay their last respects before I screw down?”

  Alice sobbed as he removed a big screwdriver from his pocket and proceeded to lower the coffin lid before fixing it firmly in position. “Goodbye Mam,” she said, as Stan put a tentative arm round her shaking shoulders, “and thanks for nothing!”

  +++++

  After the Minister had conducted a short service for the relatives in the kitchen, he and the men (including Robert and Daniel in their first suits with long trousers) went with the coffin to the grave while the women stayed behind to make tea.

  Buttering bread ferociously, Alice, now dry-eyed, said: “Mam wasn’t of sound mind at the end.”

  “Wasn’t she?” asked Marie, while Lucy – who was sugaring a swiss-roll – stopped what she was doing and bit her lip in anxiety. “How do you mean?”

  “Don’t play funny people, Marie! It must be as obvious to you as it is to me that had she been herself she’d have divided Beulah up equally.”