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Liverpool Love Song

Page 6

by Anne Baker


  It was a sunny afternoon, and when they’d eaten the apple pie and cream that followed, Helen took them all over to the summerhouse for a cup of coffee.

  ‘I thought it would look better than this inside,’ Marigold said. ‘Aren’t these your old garden chairs?’

  ‘Yes, I’d like to smarten it up, but how best to do it?’

  ‘It needs bright colours.’ It was Adam who held forth about a colour scheme of orange, yellow and brown for rugs and curtains.

  ‘Curtains?’ Marigold asked suspiciously. ‘Why on earth would you want curtains in a summerhouse?’

  On a hot day, you might be glad to draw them against the sun,’ Adam said. ‘And bright colours would bring it to life.’ He went on to recommend shops in Manchester where they stocked suitable furniture. ‘I’ll take you and Chloe and help you choose if you like,’ he offered.

  ‘Mum, that would be lovely,’ Chloe said. ‘The three of us could go one Saturday and have a day out.’

  More than anything else that drove home to Rex that Adam was indeed squeezing him out of the place he’d had in Chloe’s affections.

  A few weeks later, Rex found the summerhouse had been transformed. It now looked smart enough to provide photographs to grace the centre pages of a luxury magazine. Helen and Chloe said they were delighted with it.

  After that, when Rex was invited to take tea in the summerhouse, he’d say to Helen, ‘Gardening is dirty work. I don’t want my clothes to spoil your lovely cushions.’

  ‘You won’t hurt them,’ she’d say, but he’d insist on having a clean towel to spread over the seat of the large, well-padded cane chair before he sat down. The primary colours and the cube patterns reminded him of Adam. He didn’t care for them.

  Adam was coming to Liverpool even more often to take Chloe out, and Rex saw less and less of her. She told him Adam was great fun and that through the summer he’d taken her on trips to the beach at Southport and Morecambe, and he was planning to take her to the Peak District next month. Rex knew she was having a more exciting time than he could give her.

  Helen continued to confide her worries to him; they were working together in the garden one Saturday when she told him Chloe was going to Adam’s house almost every weekend and that she’d taken the train to Manchester again this morning.

  ‘Marigold is almost out of her mind. She’s convinced Chloe will make the same mistake she did.’

  ‘You must trust her,’ Rex said.

  Helen had gone indoors to make them some tea when she came tearing back across the lawn, clearly very upset.

  ‘Chloe’s just rung me. She says she’s staying the night with Adam and she won’t be home until tomorrow. I couldn’t make her see reason.’

  Rex knew this amounted to a crisis in the Redwood family. He threw his arms round her in a comforting hug.

  ‘The world has changed since we were young, Helen. The pill is changing everything. Young people can live like this now. It’s going to become normal behaviour.’

  ‘But it’s wrong. I feel she’s heading for disaster and she won’t listen to me. I’ve given her the Marie Stopes books Marigold gave me, so she must know the risks she’s taking.’

  Rex sighed. He’d had to accept that Adam was part of Chloe’s life, and Helen must too. ‘You can take it that she does,’ he said. ‘She’s been going to his house for weeks. What they’re doing is probably no longer new to them.’

  The months were passing quickly and Chloe was having the time of her life. She enjoyed her job and she adored Adam. Occasionally one of her colleagues at work got married, and the frequent discussions about bridal matters made Chloe long for marriage too. Aunt Goldie had dropped hints almost from the time she’d introduced her to Adam; now Mum was telling her outright that she should marry him. But Chloe had to wait for him to propose. It was convention that the bride should wait for the groom to ask her.

  He made love to her regularly, and because she was spending one or two nights each week with him, it must be obvious to her family that she was allowing this. One afternoon she was lying in his arms, both of them replete with love, when she said simply, ‘Adam, why don’t we get married?’

  She felt him stir. ‘There’s no need, is there? Aren’t you happy?’

  ‘Yes, but I’d like to be married. It’s getting on for a year now, and Mum keeps asking me when it’ll be. She says I’m your wife in everything but name.’

  He moved away from her and propped his head up with his arm. ‘I suppose, yes . . .’

  ‘I am. So why not make it official?’

  He sighed, ‘It means nothing, it’s only a ceremony and a piece of paper.’

  ‘It’s more than that. I’m embarrassed when Mum asks. How can I tell her you don’t want to? That sounds as though you don’t rate me highly enough. I’m OK as a mistress but would be lacking as a wife.’

  ‘Hey, Chloe,’ he was gathering her into his arms again, ‘it’s not like that and you know it. I do love you, I really do.’

  She pulled away. ‘But not enough to marry me?’

  ‘Why don’t you move in here with me? That would be just like being married, wouldn’t it? I’ve asked you before . . .’

  ‘Many times.’ She was out of bed and pulling on her clothes.

  His big brown eyes were beseeching. ‘Then why not?’

  ‘I’d have to leave my job. I . . .’

  ‘You’d have to do that if we got married. You could get another job here. What’s the difference?’

  ‘My family would be shocked. Terminally shocked. Aunt Goldie would never get over it.’ This was the first serious tiff they’d had, and all the warmth and love Chloe felt for him suddenly cooled. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘Now? I’ve booked a table at the Lansdown for half seven. You said you wanted to go.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’ She was tossing her belongings into her overnight bag. ‘I’ll take a bus to the station and catch the train home.’

  ‘Don’t be like this, Chloe. I’ll run you into town if you really want to go. I’ll run you home.’

  ‘The station will do.’

  On the way, he never stopped pleading with her to forgive him and stay. He told her a dozen times he was head over heels in love with her.

  Chloe arrived home to find the house empty, because her mother wasn’t expecting her back until tomorrow. She looked in the garage and saw Mum’s car was there, so guessed she’d probably gone out with Rex. She found some leftover soup in the fridge and reheated that for her supper.

  When she heard the key scrape in the front door, she was slumped in front of the television, though unable to follow the plot of the thriller because her mind was racing with mixed emotions about Adam. She heard Mum and Rex laughing as they came up the hall. It made her feel very much alone.

  ‘Chloe, you’re home! That’s nice. I thought I must have left the light on. I’ve brought Rex in for a drink, we’ve been to the bistro for supper. What would you like, Rex? Beer or a cup of coffee?’

  ‘Coffee, please.’

  Chloe could see Rex looking at her in rather a strange fashion.

  ‘I’ll make it.’ She leapt to her feet, wanting to distance herself before they asked why she’d come home unexpectedly.

  They were not laughing any more, and Rex now seemed uncomfortable. He drank the coffee quickly and took his leave. Helen saw him out, then came back to pause in the doorway to gaze at her.

  ‘You’ve quarrelled with Adam?’ she asked.

  Chloe was glad her mother had picked up on it and she didn’t have to explain.

  ‘You look miserable. I can’t think of anything else that would do that to you.’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted, but she couldn’t tell her why. Mum would say she’d done the right thing to throw him over and would be pleased.

  That night, Chloe cried herself to sleep. The next day Adam rang her twice. The second time Chloe wouldn’t pick it up. She told her mother to say she didn’t want to speak to him.

/>   As usual on Sundays, Gran and Aunt Goldie came to lunch. They were clearly relieved to hear from Mum that her relationship with Adam was broken off. For Chloe, the following week looked bleak. On Monday, he phoned her three times at the office. She said as little as possible before slamming the phone down. When she’d first told the girls in her office about Adam, they’d been envious; he was the boyfriend who had everything. Now when she told them he didn’t want to get married, they sympathised. One said, ‘He’s a rotter.’ Others said, ‘Why bother with him? I wouldn’t.’

  But without him, her life felt empty. She wasn’t at all sure that she’d done the right thing. She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  On Tuesday, Interflora delivered a magnificent bouquet of red roses. Chloe tore the accompanying note to shreds without reading it. On Wednesday evening, he was waiting outside her gate when she came home from work. She saw him get out of his car as she walked up from the bus stop.

  ‘Chloe, at least talk to me. I love you, I’m lost without you.’ His arms went round her and with relief she put her face down on the soft flannel of his jacket and was comforted. Before she realised what was happening, she found herself in the passenger seat of his car. His hugs were balm to her soul, his kisses a joy. She couldn’t do without Adam, but she didn’t have to. They’d made things up, their quarrel was forgotten.

  Chloe shot into the house to tell her mother not to cook for her because Adam was taking her out for dinner. She found her with Rex in the summerhouse. Neither seemed to welcome the news.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LIFE WENT ON AS before and Chloe gave herself up to enjoying everything it brought. In October of 1965, Adam suggested a two-week holiday on the island of Kos, and Chloe, against her mother’s express wishes, agreed to go. They had long, lazy days in the golden autumn sun; it was the best holiday of her life and she was heartened to find other unmarried couples in the small hotel.

  They enjoyed it so much, they talked about it all winter and planned to return to the Greek islands the following year. This time they wanted real heat in the sun and booked for the last week in August and the first in September. Again they had a wonderful time and returned home feeling relaxed and refreshed.

  Her office colleagues said her holiday tan suited her and she looked the picture of health, but almost immediately, Chloe began to suspect she could be pregnant. The thought of it terrified her. Surely this couldn’t be happening to her!

  She waited another week, hoping and half expecting to find it was a false alarm. She knew Adam was confident he had all that under control. However, the passing of time did nothing to ease her worry. When she did tell him, she found him equally shocked.

  ‘You can’t be,’ was his first comment. ‘You know I’ve taken precautions every time. You’re mistaken, you must be.’

  But it became increasingly obvious that she was not. She told nobody else. She was filled with a growing dread that she would end up like Aunt Goldie. The family would be able to say, ‘I told you so.’

  ‘What am I going to do?’ she implored Adam.

  ‘Move in with me,’ he said. ‘You know that’s what I want. I’ll look after you.’

  Mum would be hurt and distressed that she’d let it happen to her, and as for Gran and Aunt Goldie . . . it would be the disaster they’d always expected. Chloe knew only too well that the only outcome her family would find acceptable was for her and Adam to be married.

  When she went to Manchester to spend the weekends with him, she no longer wanted to go to restaurants and eat fancy meals. Morning sickness bothered her long beyond the first few months. Hiding that from her mother was difficult, and keeping a clear head when at work equally so. She lost her energy and enthusiasm for shopping trips and outings to theatres and cinemas. She was even off lovemaking, but she chose the moment when Adam was relaxed and happily satiated with it to close her eyes and say, ‘Adam, I want you to marry me. Please do this for me.’

  She felt him freeze and he said nothing. Panic was rushing up her throat when he said, ‘You’ve always known I’m not the marrying sort.’

  ‘But this changes everything. There’ll be a child to consider.’

  He turned his face away from her. ‘Couldn’t you get rid of it? Have an abortion? It’s legal now, you know.’

  Chloe felt tears sting her eyes. ‘That’s what you want?’

  ‘It’s what you want too, isn’t it?’

  ‘I want not to be pregnant, but since I am . . .’ He was staring silently up at the ceiling. ‘I’ve no idea how to go about getting an abortion.’

  He sat up. ‘You haven’t even been to your doctor yet. First you must do that and make sure you really are pregnant. You could be worrying for nothing. Then tell him you want an abortion.’

  ‘I can’t!’ The thought of explaining her predicament to Dr Harris made her toes curl with embarrassment. She’d known him for years, and he lived quite close. ‘Mum’s always seeing him about something, he’ll tell her.’

  ‘Well, you could change to my doctor. I could make an appointment for you. He’s open several evenings each week.’

  Chloe knew she couldn’t just bury her head in the sand over this. ‘Yes,’ she said, three days later. ‘Make an appointment for me.’

  She’d already read everything she could find about abortion, but now she went to the library in her lunch hour to see if there was anything more there that would shed light on how she should go about getting one. There had been a lot on the subject in the newspapers a few years ago when it was made legal, but she thought it wasn’t available on demand for all who might want it.

  Adam had to collect her from the office and drive her straight to the doctor in order to get her there in time for his evening surgery. She had the facts straight in her head by then. Abortion had been made legally available in Britain, but only within strict medical guidelines and not for social reasons. Chloe could see that would rule her out. The journey gave her time to talk it over with Adam.

  ‘Anyway, I’ve left it too late for an abortion; that has to happen in the first few months. For me, it isn’t possible. I’ll have to have this baby.’

  ‘Well,’ Adam said, ‘now I’ve got used to the idea, I think I might like to have a baby. It’s quite exciting, isn’t it?’

  Chloe relaxed a little. ‘Yes, it’ll be a whole new way of life for us.’

  ‘Move in with me. You know I’ve always wanted that.’

  ‘Adam, I’d like us to be married, that would make everything perfect.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘I wish you wouldn’t nag me about that.’

  Chloe wouldn’t let herself think about Adam’s stand against marriage. How could he say he loved her and then refuse to marry her when she was pregnant? The only logic in that was that he didn’t love her enough. But she had to do something. She decided moving in to live with him was her best option, really her only option. The alternative was to throw herself on Mum’s goodwill.

  She didn’t mention abortion to the doctor, and he confirmed she was over four months pregnant. She joined his list and gave Adam’s address as her own. Further appointments were arranged to take place in local clinics, and delivery was booked at a nearby hospital.

  Chloe felt in limbo. She continued to put off telling her mother; she needed to think how best to do that. She couldn’t tell the girls at work and she couldn’t leave her job. With less than five months to go before the birth, she couldn’t look for another job in Manchester. She had no savings and the baby would need clothes and a cot and a hundred other things.

  ‘We’ll get them,’ Adam assured her. ‘Don’t worry about money. I’ll take good care of you.’

  Chloe felt no less anxious. He’d been taking care of contraception, and look how well he’d managed that. She felt torpid and inert, it took all her energy to get through each day as it came. She wished, how she wished, that when he’d told her he wasn’t the marrying sort last year, she’d stayed well away from him. He had warned her, Mum
had warned her; why oh why hadn’t she listened to them?

  Spring 1967 was well advanced. Helen’s hedges were bright with forsythia and the daffodils were out in their droves. Rex was raking her grass to remove what remained of the snowdrops and crocuses he’d planted in the lawn around her summerhouse. They’d heralded in the spring at the beginning of the year. Now he wanted a perfect lawn for her in the coming summer.

  He’d expected Helen to be gardening with him this afternoon, but he’d forgotten until he got here that she did charity work two afternoons a month. She’d invited him to supper tonight. At least once each week he took her out for a meal, and she cooked for him on another evening. Now that Chloe was spending so much time with Adam, he and Helen had been thrown together more. He was glad to have her company and knew they were growing closer.

  Helen was very unhappy about what her daughter was doing and spoke of her often. Rex had to hide his own hurt and wished things had remained as they were. It was as much to reassure himself as her that he mentioned again, ‘These days there’s no shame in how Chloe lives her life. Young women count it their right.’ It didn’t make Helen’s pursed lips relax.

  He was some distance from the house and had paused to admire the carpet of self-sown bluebells under the trees when he saw Chloe and Adam coming over to him. He hadn’t seen her for a while and was immediately struck by the change in her. She didn’t look well; she’d lost her bounce.

  ‘Chloe,’ he said. ‘How nice to see you.’ He nodded to Adam; he too looked subdued.

  ‘Is Mum about? Is she gardening too?’ The garden was of such a size that there were many places where she’d have been out of sight.

  ‘No,’ Rex said. ‘I expected she would be, but I’d forgotten it was her day to run that charity shop.’

  ‘Oh no! I’d forgotten that too.’

  ‘We can come back another time,’ Adam said and took Chloe’s arm.

  Now Chloe was close, Rex could see she was pale and looked washed out. ‘How are you?’ he asked, and saw her lip quiver. ‘Is something the matter? Shouldn’t you be at work?’

 

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