Friday's Child

by Stephanie Wyatt

  ‘I wanted to ask Andrew if he was going to the jazz club tonight and if I could beg a lift,’ Mirry said. Ever since the last concert for Georgie, the jazz club had been meeting at the Greyhound in Great Wiston.

  ‘Why don’t you have dinner with us tonight if Jay won’t be home?’ her mother suggested. ‘William and Eleanor are coming, so you can all go to the jazz club together.’

  The following evening Mirry was just starting down the stairs when she heard the front door slam and Jay’s footsteps crossing the hall. She had spent the day completing the transformation of the old master suite and moving all their things out of the bedroom they had been using temporarily. The excitement of having a surprise for him made her long to hurl herself down the stairs and into his arms. Only by exercising the utmost restraint was she able to keep walking calmly downwards.

  But, before she could say a word, Jay, darkly frowning, rapped out, ‘Where were you last night? I phoned and there was no reply, so I know you were out.’

  ‘Yes, I was. It was jazz club night,’ she reminded him, wondering what he was so fussed about.

  His frown deepened. ‘You went to Great Wiston—on your own?’

  ‘As it happens, no. I had dinner at the Dower House first, then the five of us, William and Eleanor, Nick and Andrew and I, all went together. Though why you should worry about me going to Great Wiston…’

  Her voice trailed away, because if it had been her safety he was concerned about, the fact that she had been well protected failed to placate him.

  ‘So you run home to your family the minute I’m away.’ His hands grasped her shoulders, dragging her against him, his mouth descending on hers with bruising pressure. ‘Perhaps that’ll remind you you’re my wife now.’

  Mirry stared at him, her mouth throbbing from his assault. He couldn’t be jealous, could he? Not of her brothers? And then he groaned, pulling her back into his arms, his kiss gentler this time, but deepening to a hunger she couldn’t help responding to. Maybe it was knowing her brothers did love her that was making him possessive, she thought sadly.

  It was little less than a week later that something happened to change Mirry’s whole attitude to her marriage. Jay had spent the day in London and at five o’clock she had a call from his secretary to say he had just left, so when he still hadn’t arrived by nine o’clock she was frantic with worry, imagining him trapped in a tangled heap of metal in a motorway pile-up. Four hours to do a trip that usually took less than two! There couldn’t be any other explanation.

  Unable to sit, she prowled around the house, her hand several times hovering over the phone to call up some moral support, but each time afraid to have the line busy if someone tried to reach her.

  And as she prowled she prayed childishly, please God, don’t let him be dead. I’ll do anything, if only you’ll send him back to me…

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Mirry watched, seemingly for hours, the occasional car headlights passing along the road, and when at last one did turn into the drive, her feet hardly touched the ground as she sped along the passages and across the hall, flinging open the front door just as Jay climbed out of the car.

  All thought of restraint fled as she hurtled down the steps and straight into his arms, clinging to him to reassure herself he was real and not a figment of her imagination. As he enfolded her against the solid warmth of his body, the tears started.

  ‘Oh, Jay…I’ve been so worried!’ she choked. ‘Imagining the most dreadful things… an accident, and you—’ Not even with Jay safely in her arms could she put into words the worst of her fears.

  ‘There was an accident,’ Jay said, then, feeling her convulsive shudder, ‘Oh, I wasn’t involved, but it closed all three carriageways for a time. I just had to sit it out till things got moving again.’

  She raised her tear-stained face. These last traumatic hours had shown her just how much she loved him, how little her life would mean without him. And she saw just how mean-minded and dishonest she had been, trying to put restraints on that love, trying to stunt its growth, even deny its existence. She was ashamed of her behaviour, as if she had been saying, if you won’t love me, then I won’t love you. As if she had been trying to punish him, when in fact it had been herself she was hurting, twisting her own nature out of true. Love, real love, wasn’t like that. It wasn’t a bargaining counter, it shouldn’t even demand a return. It just was.

  ‘Tears, Mirry?’ Jay sounded surprised.

  ‘Relief, happiness that you’re home and safe.’ She curved her hands around his face, her lips trembling into a smile. ‘You see, I love you very much, Jay, and for a few hours tonight I was afraid I’d lost you.’ She immediately felt a sense of release.

  A strange expression flickered in Jay’s silvery eyes, one she couldn’t identify. If it was embarrassment, then it was something he would have to get used to, she thought, because from now on she was going to be open and honest with her feelings.

  Tucking her hand beneath his arm, she urged him into the house. ‘You must be starving. Martha left us a meal ready, so you’ve just time for a quick shower while I heat it up in the microwave.’

  ‘Yes, boss. Just as you say, boss.’ Jay grinned at her, then kissed her hard before taking the stairs two at a time. Mirry stood for a few moments, listening to him whistling.

  The sound of Jay whistling became a common occurrence over the next few weeks, for, rather than showing embarrassment at Mirry’s natural expression of her feelings, it seemed to cause him some satisfaction. He still had to spend quite some time away from home, but made no objection when Mirry greeted his return by flying into his arms. Nor, when he was working at home, did he turn away from the kiss and hug that accompanied every cup of coffee she took him. If Jay didn’t love her, he seemed happy enough to be loved by her.

  Even their lovemaking took on a new dimension now she was no longer holding back, no longer resenting her helpless response to him. If only she could conceive a child! Because only when she had given him the first of his sons would she feel really safe, no longer haunted by the fear that someone could let slip the fact that she was the Greys’ adopted daughter.

  ‘A break will do you good,’ Cathy Grey encouraged when Mirry told her she would be spending the rest of that week in London with Jay. ‘Though I must say…’ she examined her daughter’s radiant face ‘…you’ve been looking much better lately.’

  Mirry had good cause for her radiance, for it had been Jay’s own suggestion that she should accompany him. It was almost as if he found the prospect of a three-day separation as intolerable as she did. And, as if that wasn’t enough cause for rejoicing, her period was three days late!

  Mirry chattered happily throughout the journey about what she planned to do: to get in touch with Kate, and Simon too if he was in the country, choose some new chintz at Colefax and Fowler, do a bit of personal shopping, too, something rather special for her father’s birthday.

  Jay smiled tolerantly, but before he left her at the Barbican flat he warned, ‘Not too much rushing about, Mirry. Ask the porter to ring for a cab whenever you go out.’

  Mirry agreed demurely, hiding her excitement. She was bursting to tell him there was a very good reason why she shouldn’t overdo things, but it could be a false alarm. Better not to raise his hopes too soon.

  In the flat Mirry unpacked then picked up the phone and dialled Wren Interiors’ number. Kate was delighted to hear from her and they arranged to meet for lunch. Half an hour later Jay called to say the head of the American consortium he was hoping to do a deal with wanted to meet her, and they were both invited to dine with him that evening.

  A call to Simon’s flat elicited no reply, but at lunch Kate was able to tell her he was due home the following day, and suggested they all four got together for dinner at her home.

  Altogether it was an action-packed and very happy few days for Mirry. Even though Jay didn’t know her secret, he was sensitive enough to her wishes and comfort to prompt Kate to comme
nt as Mirry helped her clear away after the meal, ‘So you were right and I was wrong, Mirry. I hardly know Jay any more. He certainly isn’t blind to your feelings.’

  Mirry thought about that as, tired but contented, she and Jay drove back to Wenlow on the Friday afternoon, his business successfully completed. It was true, Jay had begun to consider her feelings. Even more, he seemed to be doing his utmost to please her. And, if he had made that much progress, wasn’t it possible that in time he could come to love her, too? Not just as the mother of the sons he so urgently wanted, but for herself? Maybe learning she was pregnant would be another step along the way. She fell to wondering how soon she could go to the doctor to confirm her hopes.

  So it was in a particularly optimistic mood that Mirry arrived home, to be met by an agitated Martha. ‘Oh, Mr Jay, I didn’t know what to do with you not being here. She arrived last night and just…well, I could hardly throw her out, could I?’

  While Mirry and Jay were trying to decipher her ramblings, a new voice drawled, ‘Much as she wanted to!’

  They turned simultaneously towards the voice, and as Mirry stared at the bone-thin, elegantly dressed woman standing in the library doorway she felt Jay stiffen.

  ‘Mother!’

  Mirry’s eyes widened, for this woman didn’t look old enough to be Jay’s mother, until closer scrutiny revealed the skin stretched tautly over the facial bones as if it had undergone more than one face-lift, and the rather improbable golden blonde of her hair. So this was Valerie Elphick, she thought curiously.

  ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ Jay whispered.

  ‘Now, what sort of a welcome is that for your mother?’ Valerie drawled, taking it upon herself to dismiss the hovering housekeeper with a sharp, ‘That will be all, Mrs Barks.’

  Martha glared her affront and addressed herself to Mirry. ‘Would you and Mr Jay like some tea, madam?’

  Mirry had to stifle a giggle. Never in her life had Martha addressed her so formally, but to save her face she said, ‘Indeed we would, Martha. Tea for three, and we’ll have it in the library.’ Having established who was mistress, Martha trotted back to the kitchen.

  ‘Perhaps we could all sit down, Mrs…’ Mirry hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know your married name.’

  Valerie inclined her head graciously. ‘Ginsher. Mrs Oscar Ginsher,’ she stressed, as if that should mean something to them. When no reaction was forthcoming she fished a wisp of handkerchief from her sleeve and carefully dabbed the corners of her eyes. ‘Such a dear man, but not…’ She paused significantly. ‘I lost him six months ago, and without him… well, it was no great sacrifice to sell up in California and come home to Wenlow.’

  ‘Home, Mother?’ Jay asked cynically, fast recovering from his shock. ‘As far as I know you never spent longer than three months here, so I fail to see how you can look on it as home.’

  Mirry, listening with a sinking feeling in her stomach, watched Valerie shake her head sorrowfully. ‘I can’t really expect you to understand just what your father— and this place—meant to me.’

  ‘So much that you brought me up to hate him?’ Jay’s cynicism deepened.

  Valerie gave a muffled sob. ‘Oh, that was wrong of me, I know that now. But when everything was against us—his wife, her family—I was so hurt that he didn’t stand out against them so I lashed back at him.’ She raised her head, and as she looked pleadingly at her son Mirry saw there were real tears in her eyes. ‘Believe me, if I had my time over again…’

  ‘Please don’t upset yourself, Mrs Ginsher.’ Mirry urged her into a chair. If Valerie now regretted her behaviour in the past, Mirry for one wasn’t going to hold it against her.

  Valerie allow herself to be seated, smiling up at Mirry tremulously. ‘Thank you, my dear. I’m afraid I have no idea who you are.’

  ‘This very tender-hearted lady,’ Jay said, crossing the room and curving a protective arm round Mirry’s waist, ‘is my wife, Mirry.’

  ‘Your wife?’ Valerie looked shaken. ‘I’d no idea you were married!’

  ‘Just as I had no idea you’d been widowed,’ Jay pointed out sardonically. ‘We’ve been married a little over two months.’

  ‘Newly-weds!’ Valerie said faintly. ‘How lovely!’ Yet Mirry got the distinct impression the news wasn’t welcome.

  Martha interrupted with the tea trolley then, and by the time she departed Valerie seemed to have recovered from her shock. ‘Mirry… That’s an unusual name.’

  ‘A pet name,’ Jay said before Mirry could respond, ‘and one that suits her to a tee. Her given names are Georgina Catherine.’ Mirry saw he was watching his mother with sardonic amusement. ‘Georgina after her godmother, Lady Jayston, and Catherine after her mother, Cathy Grey.’

  Mirry could see the shock on Valerie’s face, and couldn’t share Jay’s amusement. The taut skin whitened, leaving the blusher standing out like a clown’s make-up. ‘I see.’ At last Valerie broke the tense silence. She put down her cup and rose gracefully to her feet. ‘Then I can understand that she won’t be able to find a welcome for me in her home.’

  Moved to pity, and impressed by Valerie’s quiet dignity, Mirry assured her with impulsive warmth, ‘Oh, but of course you’re welcome, isn’t she, Jay? We can’t change the past, but we can give it a decent burial.’

  ‘I don’t know if encouraging her to stay was a good idea,’ Jay said later when they were alone. ‘I got the impression she’d come here ready to step in as Lady of the Manor, and wasn’t at all pleased to find the role filled.’

  ‘But I thought she took it very well when she discovered I was a Grey,’ Mirry demurred. ‘In fact, she seemed more concerned that I wouldn’t be able to accept her than the other way around.’

  ‘Now, that did surprise me. If I could be sure she really has changed…’ He looked so uncertain that Mirry’s heart went out to him. Whatever painful childhood memories Valerie’s unexpected arrival had raised, she was still his mother.

  ‘Darling…’ She wound her arms around his waist. ‘You were a child in a situation you couldn’t begin to understand. Now you’ll have the chance to get to know her as an adult.’

  Jay still looked uncertain. ‘And what about your parents? I told them there was no chance of her ever coming here.’

  Remembering their prejudice, Mirry felt a qualm, but subdued it firmly. ‘They’ll understand, Jay. The situation’s different now. David and Georgie are both gone, so there’s no one who can be hurt.’

  She wasn’t to know how wrong she was.

  At first Valerie seemed pathetically grateful to be allowed this visit to Wenlow, deferring prettily to Mirry, and if she expressed horror when she learned of the plans to convert two-thirds of the house into flats, she followed up quickly with, ‘Of course it all belongs to you now, Jay, and you must do as you think best.’

  But as the days passed Mirry found her mother-in-law’s continuing presence severely curtailed the work she still had to do refurbishing the house, especially when Valerie’s praise for what she had achieved was qualified by her plaintive, ‘Of course, it’s not to my taste.’

  So, after having Valerie dogging her heels, slipping in her little digs, Mirry was relieved when she hired a car to make trips to Leicester and Market Harborough, and sometimes took walks around the village, even spending the odd evening in the village pub.

  ‘Renewing old acquaintances,’ she claimed, and at the same time giving the newly-weds some time on their own.

  ‘But how long does she intend to stay?’ Cathy Grey asked when Mirry escaped for an hour one day to the Dower House. Although Martha had warned Donald and Cathy of Valerie’s arrival even before Mirry and Jay knew of it, they had as yet had no contact with her.

  Mirry sighed, wondering that herself. She wanted to make an appointment with the doctor to get her pregnancy confirmed, but she was strangely reluctant to break the news to Jay while his mother was still in the house. But she said lightly, ‘Oh, she’s only been here just over a week
, and it is twelve years since she last saw Jay.’

  She sighed again, admitting to herself her relationship with Jay had taken a step backwards since his mother’s arrival. He was still solicitous for her welfare, but there were times when he withdrew from her behind his old wooden expression. And, though she often saw him watching his mother, she still didn’t know how he felt about her, if they had grown any closer, because whenever she prompted him he returned only bland, uninformative replies. Certainly Valerie spent time with him when Mirry wasn’t there, but he never told her what had passed between them.

  ‘Odd how she only wanted to see him again after she heard he’d inherited Wenlow. And how did she hear, I wonder?’ Cathy said darkly, then, with an anxious glance at her daughter, asked, ‘She’s not making trouble between you and Jay, is she?’

  Mirry shook her head. On the surface at least, Valerie seemed to have accepted her son’s marriage into the Grey family without rancour, though sometimes Mirry had the uneasy feeling she was playing a part. Or rather, many parts: the remorseful mother regretting past mistakes; the mother-in-law trying hard to be tolerant; the exile returned to a well-loved home. But just now and again Mirry had caught a glimpse of something else. Little things, like a too-peremptory order to Martha, or a hastily bitten back criticism of herself. Yet, though Jay seemed… different when she was around, Mirry had to admit Valerie had done nothing overt to cause trouble.

  ‘I suppose we must bow to the inevitable,’ Cathy said resignedly. ‘She is your mother-in-law, and if it’s going to make things more comfortable for you and Jay, your father and I are ready to forget past grievances. You’d better bring her along for dinner tonight.’

  It was with a similar attitude of conciliation that Valerie accepted the invitation, much to Mirry’s relief, and she prepared for the evening with a light heart. She knew Valerie had come equipped with an extensive and very elegant wardrobe, so not to be outdone Mirry chose a dress she would normally have considered a bit over the top for a family dinner, a pretty floral chiffon in greens and golds with narrow bootlace shoulder-straps.