by Lucy Gordon
Angela stared at her. ‘You sound like Roscoe.’
‘And he’s right,’ Pippa said robustly. There was a curious kind of satisfaction in defending Roscoe when he wasn’t there. It was when he was there that the trouble started.
‘Have you ever tried to talk to him?’ she asked gently. ‘You might find more sympathy in Roscoe than you thought.’
‘Do you think so? Have those wonderful all-seeing eyes of yours bored into him and found something the rest of the world missed?’
This was so close to the truth that Pippa was momentarily lost for words. She recovered enough to say, ‘Who knows? He works so hard at not letting people see what he’s really like, almost as though part of him was afraid.’
‘Afraid? Him?’
‘Sometimes the man with the strongest armour is the one who needs it most for…whatever reason.’
‘You may be right,’ Angela sighed. ‘It’s just that I’ve always found it hard to forgive Roscoe for William’s death. If he’d taken on a bigger share of the work-’
‘But he was just a boy,’ Pippa protested. ‘About the same age Charlie is now. Would you blame Charlie in the same way?’
‘No, of course not, but-’ Angela checked herself as though the realisation had startled her. ‘Roscoe has always seemed different.’
‘Seemed is the word,’ Pippa said. ‘He was young, learning the business and probably completely confused. Then his father died. Maybe he blamed himself, then he discovered that you blamed him-’
‘I never said so,’ Angela hurried to say. ‘Oh, but I wouldn’t need to say so, would I?’
‘No. But he wouldn’t say anything either, and so you lost each other all these years ago.’
Angela was silent, looking sad, and after a moment Pippa ventured to ask, ‘Was your husband at all like that?’
‘Oh, no. William was talkative and open-hearted. He told me everything-absolutely everything. Our marriage was blissfully happy.’
She held up the hand with the glittering diamond ring. ‘At least I’ve always had this as a symbol of his love. I kiss it goodnight every evening when I go to bed, and for a moment I can imagine he’s still there. We loved each other so much until he…until he…’ She was suddenly shivering. ‘He died in a car crash. Taken from me suddenly, with no goodbye. Oh, if he’d had the chance to say goodbye he would have been so kind-’
With a feeling of sick dread, Pippa realised that Angela knew the truth, despite her frantic denials. Beneath her smiling facade, she was hiding another self, permanently tormented. It was a self that the outside world must never be allowed to see, and in that she was just like her elder son.
Now Pippa knew what she must do. Going to sit beside Angela, she put her arms gently about her and held her close.
‘You remember him as a kind man who loved you,’ she said. ‘And that’s what really matters-all the good years you shared-loving each other-’
‘Yes, yes-no!’ Angela’s voice suddenly rose to a shriek and sobs shook her. ‘No, he left me,’ she wept. ‘He took his own life, although he knew I loved him. He went away from me because he wanted to, and it destroyed me and he didn’t care. He didn’t care.’
‘That’s not true,’ Pippa said, tightening her arms. ‘He didn’t stop loving you. He was just full of despair. His mind was so dark that he wasn’t his real self. It was another man who took his own life, not the one you knew. He didn’t reject you. That was someone else who only looked like him.’
She wondered if she had any right to say this when she didn’t really believe it. William Havering’s suicide had indeed been a betrayal of those who loved and needed him, and she’d said as much to Roscoe. But this desperate woman could not have endured it.
She knew she’d made the right decision when Angela raised her head, her eyes frantically searching Pippa’s face.
‘Do you mean that?’ she whispered.
‘Yes, I do. He must have been terribly ill, and it was the illness that made him act, not his own heart. He never rejected you, and I know that wherever he is now he wants you to understand that. He can’t have peace until you have it first. You still love him, don’t you?’
‘Oh, yes-yes-’
‘Then do this for him. Speak to him in your heart and tell him you forgive him because you know he didn’t mean it. Tell him-’
She stopped for the air was singing. Suddenly, Dee was there with her, pointing to the words in her diary-words she’d spoken to the man she loved, not knowing if he could hear them, if he would ever hear them.
‘Tell him…tell him…’
‘What is it?’ Angela asked in wonder. ‘You look as if you’d seen a ghost.’
‘No,’ Pippa whispered. ‘You don’t need to see a ghost to feel it.’
‘What should I tell him?’
‘That he’s still with you,’ Pippa said slowly, ‘and he always will be, just as you’ll always be with him in your heart, until one day you really will be together again.’
‘And he won’t reject me?’ Angela whispered longingly. ‘After so long?’
‘It isn’t long. Time doesn’t really exist. It’s just an illusion.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Angela said eagerly. ‘I didn’t understand before, but I do now. You’re so kind and understanding.’
She buried her face against Pippa, still trembling, but no longer in agony.
A sound from the door made Pippa look up, and what she saw made her stiffen with shock.
Roscoe stood there. He was staring, seemingly dazed by the sight that met his eyes-his mother, in transports of joy and relief, in Pippa’s arms.
This was what he was trying to do for her, but never managed it, she thought. Perhaps he’ll hate me.
She recalled his chilly hostility when he’d discovered she knew about his father’s suicide. To him, this would seem even more of an intrusion.
She patted Angela’s shoulder. ‘Roscoe’s here.’
Angela raised her head. To Pippa’s pleasure, she smiled at the sight of Roscoe and reached out a hand.
‘Mother, what is it?’
‘It’s all right. Dear, dear Pippa has made me understand so much-she said such wonderful things-’
‘I heard what she said,’ Roscoe told her quietly. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed Angela’s face. ‘Don’t cry, Mother. There’s nothing to be sad about.’
‘I know. It was wonderful. Charlie won and he’ll be in the next round and, before we know it, he’ll be rich and famous.’
The phone rang and she snatched it up. ‘Charlie, darling, we were just talking about you-’
Pippa took a step away from Roscoe. Everything-her mind, her heart, her flesh-all were in turmoil at his appearance and the uncertainty over what he’d heard. Only one thing was sure. She must get away from him.
But she felt her hand taken between his in a grip she couldn’t resist, and he drew her away, out of Angela’s sight.
‘How can I ever thank you?’ he asked in a low, passionate voice. ‘I never dreamed I could see her so at peace again, and you did it.’
He raised her hands to his lips, kissing them, while she felt a happiness she’d feared never to know again. She tried to fight it, but it wouldn’t be fought.
‘You don’t mind that it was me?’ she asked.
‘If you mean would I rather have been the one who brought my mother peace again, then yes, I would. But as long as somebody can make her such a priceless gift, that’s the only thing that matters.’
‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘It hurt so much when we quarrelled, but at least we can part friends.’
‘Part? Are we going to part?’
‘We’ve already parted, Roscoe. You know that.’
‘But I don’t. Just because we said some terrible things-you pretended to be a floozie and I pretended to believe you. We can get past that if we want to.’
The turmoil of feeling that went through her was part joy at his love, part misery at the parting that she knew was inevi
table, although he could not see it, and part terror that her own nerve might fail. She must leave him, but the knowledge filled her with anguish.
‘Surely you’re ready to try again,’ he said in a pleading voice. ‘The fact that you’re here-’
‘Charlie told me you wouldn’t be here tonight.’
‘He said that? Surely not? He knew I was coming.’
‘Maybe I misunderstood,’ she said huskily. ‘But it’s too late for us.’
‘It’ll never be too late while we love each other.’
She didn’t answer that. She didn’t dare.
Hearing Angela hanging up, Pippa said quickly, ‘I’ve got to go.’
‘I didn’t see your car outside.’
‘It’s finally had it.’
‘Then I’ll drive you. Don’t argue.’
Angela kissed her goodbye and watched them depart with a smile that said she was crossing her fingers for her hopes to come true.
‘Wrap up warmly; it’s snowing again,’ Roscoe said as he helped her on with her coat, drawing the edges together. ‘Your trouble is that you haven’t got anyone to look after you. Never mind, you’ll have me in future.’
She didn’t protest. It wasn’t true but she didn’t have the strength to dispel the beautiful dream right now. There would be time enough for heartbreak later.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AS THEY headed for Roscoe’s car they realised that there was a ghostly figure standing beside it, half obscured by the driving snow. Pippa gasped with horror when she realised who it was.
‘That’s Franton,’ she said urgently. ‘The man you fired for insider trading. He’s probably damaged your car.’
But there was nothing threatening about Franton’s appearance as he stood waiting for them by the road.
‘What are you doing out here in this weather?’ Roscoe asked him, sounding irritated. ‘Do you want to catch your death?’
Franton loomed at them through the flakes.
‘I’m not staying long. I only came to thank you. I found out who got me the job.’
‘I told them you’d do it well and I know you will,’ Roscoe said gruffly.
‘And the paper you signed…about my debts…’
‘It’s only a guarantee. You still have to pay them.’
‘But, thanks to you, I have time now. I had to come and thank you.’
‘Fine, but clear off now before you get pneumonia,’ Roscoe snapped, sounding annoyed. ‘Where’s your car?’
‘I sold it.’
‘Get in; I’ll drive you home.’
Franton tumbled thankfully into the back seat. Pippa, sitting in the front, tried to sort out her tangled thoughts but without success.
Why, she thought fretfully, couldn’t Roscoe stay the same person for five minutes at a time?
Franton’s wife and three children were waiting at the window, looking anxious. They streamed out to embrace him and Roscoe sat watching the family scene, before firing the engine and driving off.
‘I don’t believe what I’m seeing,’ she breathed. ‘You got him another job? After what happened?’
‘What else could I do?’ he demanded. ‘You saw his family. It’s not much of a job, handling the finances of a little group of shops.’
‘But didn’t you have to tell the owners why you fired him?’
‘I’m a partner in the business.’
‘So you pulled strings for him?’
He grunted.
‘And you’ve guaranteed his debts?’
‘Guaranteed them. Not paid them. Now, can we drop this?’
‘I just can’t get my head around it. Nobody would guess the truth about you.’
‘But you think you know the truth?’ he asked savagely. ‘After the way you attacked me about him, what did you expect me to do?’
‘I didn’t expect you to take any notice of anything I said. And I’m not even sure you did. I have a suspicion that you’d have done it anyway. Scrooge outside and Santa inside.’
‘How dare you?’
‘I don’t know,’ she mused. ‘But I dare.’
After a while she said, ‘This isn’t the way to my home.’
‘I’m taking a detour. The traffic’s heavy because we’re close to Trafalgar Square.’
‘Ah, yes. That’s where they set up the huge tree that the Norwegians give us every year.’
‘Let’s go and see it,’ he said, turning into a side road and stopping.
Taking her hand, he drew her forward to where the crowds were gathered. There was the great tree rearing up into the night, covered in lights. More lights set the fountains aglow and the huge buildings around the edge of the square. All around, carol singers gathered, their voices rising into the chilly air.
‘Beautiful,’ Roscoe murmured.
Receiving no reply, he turned to see Pippa standing with her eyes closed, her face wet from snow, or maybe tears. Her head was uncovered and now her glorious hair was drenched and hanging drably.
‘Pippa,’ he said urgently. ‘Pippa, what is it? Tell me, for pity’s sake.’
He shook her shoulders gently and, when she didn’t react, he drew her close, kissing her with the fierceness of a man trying to reawaken life.
‘Pippa,’ he whispered. ‘Where are you?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said helplessly. ‘But I can’t escape. I’m trapped there and I always will be.’
‘You can. Let me help you.’
He kissed her again and again and she gave herself up to the feeling, trying to find in it a way out of the fears that tormented her. But she knew there was no way out and she must try to make him understand.
‘Let me go,’ she said desperately. ‘I have to get out of here.’
She wrenched herself free and darted away, vanishing into the crowd so that for a moment Roscoe lost her and looked around desperately. She had vanished into thin air, gone for ever, and for a moment the demons that pursued him seemed to be mocking him.
Then he saw her at the end of the street, fleeing him without looking back. He gave chase and managed to catch up before she vanished again.
‘No,’ he said fiercely. ‘We can’t leave it like this. It’s too important. Let’s go back.’
‘Not to that place,’ she said, pointing to Trafalgar Square, whose lights could just be seen in the distance. ‘I couldn’t bear it.’
‘But why?’
‘Christmas,’ she said simply. ‘I just can’t cope.’
‘Let’s go home.’
He led her back to the car, saw her tucked in and headed back to her home. She sat in silence, her arms crossed over her chest for the whole of the journey, then let him shepherd her upstairs. She knew this moment had to come. They must have a long talk, and she must make him understand why this path was closed off to her. Then, and only then, would she be ready to face the bleakness of life without him.
When they reached her apartment he fetched a towel and began to dry her hair, which was sodden from the snow, pulling it down so that he could work on it properly. The movement reminded him of that first day, when he’d seen her hair and her young, voluptuous body in their full glory.
Now there was nothing young or glorious about her. With her hair bedraggled, her face pale and strained, he had a sudden blinding glimpse of how she would look as a weary old woman.
He had never loved her so much.
At last he tossed the towel away, but still kept hold of her.
‘I can’t believe the way things went wrong with us without warning,’ he said.
‘There may have been no warning to you,’ she said. ‘For me, there was.’
‘But everything was beautiful between us. We made love and found that our hearts and minds were open. We could talk and trust each other. I thought it was wonderful. Was I wrong?’
‘No,’ she cried passionately. ‘It was wonderful. But that was what scared me. It was wonderful once before. All that trust and hope for the future. I know how little it means because I h
ad those feelings with Jack, and they ended in a smash-up. I loved him so much. I was ready to give him everything I had, everything I was, everything I might be, and I thought it was the same with him.’
She began to pace the room.
‘After that night you and I spent together, I woke up full of fear. It made no sense when things were so good between us, but I had this terrible sense of darkness. I tried to force it away, and I might have managed it, but then that Christmas carol came on the radio. And suddenly I was back there with Jack.
‘Christmas was coming and our wedding was set for the New Year. The church was booked, the reception, the presents had started to arrive. I went to see him at his flat, and I was so stupid that I never realised anything was wrong. I could see he had something on his mind but I thought he was planning a special surprise for me.
‘There were carol singers in the street below. They were singing that carol; how joy was here for ever and there would be “New day, new hope, new life”. And it seemed to fit us so exactly that I began to sing the words. Jack looked a bit embarrassed. I’ll never forget that look on his face, but of course it was because he was about to tell me that it was all over.
‘I had some mistletoe that I’d been keeping hidden, waiting for the right moment to produce it. I thought it was the perfect moment. I brought out the mistletoe and held it up, saying “This is where you’re supposed to kiss me.”
‘But he just looked more embarrassed, and suddenly blurted out that he would never kiss me again. It was over. He was marrying someone else. I just stood there, trying to take it in, and all the time those words were floating up from the street. Since then, I’ve never been able to hear them without a shudder, but until that day I didn’t know how deep it went.’
‘But one song-’
‘That’s what I’ve tried to tell myself, but it’s more. That one carol seems to sum it all up. The very fact that we were so happy seems like a threat. I’m afraid of happiness. I daren’t let myself feel it because I can’t face what happens when it ends.’
‘And you think it will end with us? You don’t trust me to be true to you? How can I prove it?’
‘You can’t. It’s my fault, not yours. After Jack, I shut out love, hid myself away from it. That’s why I live as I do, because it keeps love away. Let people think of me as a floozie who doesn’t need real feeling! It makes me angry sometimes, but it also keeps me safe, and safe is what I want to be more than anything in the world.’