For Better For Worse

by Pam Weaver

  Twenty-Seven

  Judith was enjoying looking after Edward. The weather for the time of year had been glorious, with temperatures reaching 84ºF in some parts of the country. As always with the coastal areas, Worthing was a few degrees lower, but until today, every day had been beautiful. Judith made the most of it, playing with her grandson in the beach chalet she and Malcolm owned under the arches by Splashpoint. Built in the 1930s, they were made of brick with steel-framed Crittall windows and French doors. The roofs doubled as a walkway and each chalet had its own frontage, which was separated from the public footpath by a rail. From the footpath, you could walk straight onto the beach.

  Over the years, Judith had made her chalet very comfortable. It was tastefully decorated and she and Malcolm kept a table and deckchairs inside. There were pictures hanging on the wall and they had a small Primus stove to make tea. There was a public tap at the end of the row of chalets, so they had plenty of water, but of course she had to bring the milk and sugar from home. There were no toilet facilities, but the public toilets in the gardens behind were quite sufficient.

  During the war years everything had been boarded up, but now she could use the chalet to enjoy time with her grandson. He was such a good baby and at five months was already able to focus his eyes on his toys, of which there were precious few until Judith came along. He had a ready smile and she discovered that if she tickled him he had an infectious chuckle. In her eyes he was the most perfect little boy in the whole world.

  She had been looking after him for nearly three weeks now. At first she kept well out of the public eye, but Edward was so delightful that most of the chalet neighbours had already popped along to chuckle him under the chin and invite themselves for a drink. Eventually that gave her the idea of using the place to hold informal gatherings with her friends. She would invite some for a light lunch and others for afternoon tea. Her housekeeper, Mrs Lang, made sandwiches and cakes, which Judith brought down in a tin, so it didn’t take long for the chalet to become the ‘in’ place to be among her set.

  Although her friends had come that afternoon, they hadn’t stayed quite as long as they normally did. It wasn’t cold but the sky was overcast and there was a definite feel of rain in the air. Judith had just put Edward back in his pram and was packing up his toys in an orange box, when someone stood in the doorway and blocked the sunlight. She straightened up to see Malcolm. Her heart began to race. Oh dear, he wasn’t going to make a scene was he?

  ‘Oh! You surprised me,’ she said, doing her best to sound casual. ‘I was just leaving … but I can make us some tea if you want.’

  He was staring at the pram.

  Now Judith felt nervous. What was he going to do? He didn’t seem angry, but there was no telling with Malcolm. ‘Yes, he’s in there,’ she said cautiously. ‘He’s awake but quite content.’ She poured some water into the kettle and lit the stove. ‘Shouldn’t take long. How did you know I was here?’

  He normally never bothered about what she was doing. They led fairly separate lives and it suited them both. Malcolm said nothing and he still hadn’t moved.

  ‘He won’t bite, you know,’ said Judith. She went to her husband’s side and slipped her arm through his. Slowly and falteringly, Malcolm allowed himself to be guided to the pram. Edward was playing with his own foot, but as his grandfather peered in at him, he fixed his gaze on Malcolm. ‘Isn’t he lovely?’ Judith coaxed. ‘He reminds me so much of Annie when she was a baby.’

  Malcolm still hadn’t said a word when the kettle whistled. Judith made some tea and reopened the cake tin as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She re-set the deckchair she had just put away and offered her husband a cup and saucer.

  ‘I had a phone call from the Worthing Gazette,’ he said dully. ‘Someone saw you with the pram.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Judith, carefully avoiding the accusation that she was ruining his reputation. ‘I’ve been coming here every day.’

  ‘And now I hear it’s the talk of the golf club,’ he said, sitting down. His voice was emotionless, as if he were a newsreader on the radio. ‘The chaps tell me you’ve been inviting their wives for tea.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Judith, sitting back down herself, ‘and it’s been quite pleasant.’ They sipped tea together until Edward began to complain, so Judith got back up and took him from the pram. They sat opposite Malcolm and Edward fixed his big eyes on his grandfather once again. Judith watched her husband’s hard expression begin to soften.

  ‘I only wanted to protect her,’ said Malcolm gruffly, ‘to give her a new start in life.’

  ‘I know, dear.’ Less is more, she told herself. Don’t say too much and don’t get into an argument about it.

  ‘It’s going to be bloody hard for her to find a halfway decent husband now,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘I know, dear,’ Judith said again.

  They drank their tea and Edward played with a rattle. The third time he dropped it onto the floor, Malcolm was the one who picked it up and gave it back to him. He still wasn’t smiling, but she’d been married to him for long enough to recognise a change of heart when she saw it.

  Judith looked at her watch. ‘I have to go,’ she told him. ‘Annie finishes work soon and I have to get Edward back to the house for her return.’

  ‘What does she do?’

  ‘She works in a sweet shop,’ said Judith.

  Malcolm screwed up his face disapprovingly. ‘A sweet shop?’

  ‘That girl would scrub floors to keep her baby,’ said Judith stoutly. She stood up with Edward on her hip and tried to straighten the pram sheet with her one free hand. Without thinking, she plonked Edward in Malcolm’s arms and used both hands on the sheet. When she turned to take the baby back, her husband’s eyes were moist.

  ‘Times are changing, Malcolm,’ she said quietly. ‘And now that she’s gained her independence I don’t think she’d even want to come back home again.’

  Malcolm put out his hand and Edward patted it happily.

  ‘But we can help to support her, can’t we?’ she said, reading his thoughts.

  Malcolm grunted, but Judith noted that he was in no hurry to hand the baby back.

  *

  ‘Henry, I can’t be doing with all this,’ said Kaye crossly. They’d been arguing about him coming to live at Copper Beeches for the past ten minutes. ‘You’ve heard from my solicitors and I want a divorce.’

  Little point now, she thought grimly, but at least it would free him to marry Annie. Her stomach fell away as she realised that if the cancer was as serious as Mr Young intimated, he’d soon be a widower anyway. ‘When the time comes, we will make you as comfortable as possible.’ As comfortable as possible … what did that mean? Was she going to be in a lot of pain?

  ‘Now I can’t see if I can pass this damned car,’ said Henry. ‘Is it safe?’

  ‘No,’ she said as he pulled out slightly. A bus going in the opposite direction came over the brow of the hill.

  ‘We could have a second honeymoon,’ Henry said, grabbing her hand, which was resting on her lap, and squeezing it.

  She snatched it away and began to cough. ‘Henry, you’ve got a son to take care of. You can’t leave Annie to bring him up on her own. Pull out now.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about her,’ said Henry, his tone changing out of all recognition as he pulled around the car. ‘There’s no way I’m letting that silly bitch bring up my son.’

  Kaye turned to look at him. His jawline was set and his nostrils flared with anger. ‘What did you call her?’

  ‘You heard,’ he said coldly. ‘The woman was a brood mare, nothing more. I wanted a son and she gave me one. I’ve no more use for her now.’

  ‘Henry!’ Kaye was genuinely shocked. She knew he was selfish and self-seeking, but she’d never heard him use that tone of voice before.

  ‘I’ve got plans,’ he said, helping himself to another coffee crunch. ‘I’m bringing my boy up myself.’

&nbs
p; ‘But Annie is doing a perfectly fine job,’ said Kaye. ‘She adores that baby. In fact, you couldn’t wish for a better mother.’

  Henry crashed the gears and the car jerked forward. ‘And I say she’s no fit mother for my son.’

  ‘Annie has fought tooth and nail to keep that child,’ Kaye cried angrily. ‘Henry, you can’t do this. She loves him. Annie would die if she lost him.’

  Henry glared at her. ‘She’ll get over it.’

  Kaye began another coughing fit. The coldness in his voice sent a chill through her whole body. He was doing his best to wreck everybody’s life, wasn’t he? Not only hers but Lottie’s, and now poor Annie’s as well. Some of the old feelings came rushing back; the helplessness, the frustration when trying to make him see another point of view and, worst of all, the fear of him. For years she had lived on a knife-edge while trying to please someone who refused to be pleased. It had crippled her and stifled her creativity and now she felt as if everything was creeping back to the way it had been before. And in that moment, Kaye hated him.

  ‘You ought to do something about that cough,’ he said as she finished gasping for breath and fought the pain in her side. ‘Here, have a sweet.’

  She shook her head. ‘Listen Henry, don’t do this. We’ve all made a life for ourselves,’ she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere between them. She had to cool the heat of the moment if she was to get through to him. ‘I have a nice house and a steady income. Sarah is excellent with Lottie, and Annie has settled into a good routine. All the children are happy. You want your children to be happy, don’t you?’

  ‘Don’t lecture me on what’s best,’ Henry snapped. ‘Don’t forget, woman, I am still your husband!’

  ‘But I don’t want you back!’ she cried. ‘You are not coming back to disrupt all our lives.’ Kaye’s head was thumping and she was beginning to feel really ill. ‘No Henry, it’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Kaye,’ he said, his tone suddenly softening, ‘sweetheart … let’s not quarrel.’

  He had accelerated and they were now stuck behind a removal lorry. She wished she hadn’t agreed to this journey. The train would have been far less traumatic. Her skin felt clammy and the pleasure of the wind in her face was turning into a need to get out of the cold. What was even worse, she was close to tears. She couldn’t bear it if Henry saw her being weak again.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he went on soothingly. ‘Put all this down to my clumsy attempt to win back your affections.’

  Kaye closed her eyes as the bile rose in her throat. ‘I can’t let you do this to us,’ she said. ‘In fact, I think it would be better if you put me down at the nearest bus stop and I’ll make my own way home.’

  He said nothing but she saw his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. The removal lorry had turned off and the car had picked up speed, travelling at dangerous rates which meant that they barely managed the corners on the narrow road. Kaye gripped the edge of her seat with her left hand and the handle of the door with her right until, much to her relief, they came up behind another slow-moving vehicle.

  ‘Tell me when it’s all clear for me to pass,’ he said, pulling out slightly.

  Kaye could see a lorry disappearing into the dip of the hill. ‘Not yet … Henry, please think about this,’ she tried again. ‘I could give you some money. Give you a new start …’

  ‘Like I said,’ he said, ‘I have plans for my son and that doesn’t include his mother. That’s why I’m coming to Worthing.’

  ‘But she won’t …’

  ‘I’m not arguing with you, Kaye,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m going to fetch him right now.’ He leaned over and patted her hand again. ‘Annie will be fine. You got over it when you had your baby, didn’t you?’

  ‘My baby died at birth,’ she said quietly. ‘I never even saw him.’

  He turned his attention back to the road. ‘You could have done.’

  Her head jerked up. ‘What?’

  ‘It lived for three days,’ he said matter-of-factly.

  Kaye gasped in horror. ‘What! But why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘The nurses told me there was nothing they could do,’ he went on. ‘It was deformed, d’you see. I thought it best.’

  ‘It,’ she spat. ‘It … You didn’t even think to tell me if I’d had a boy or a girl.’

  ‘It was a girl.’

  Kaye shuddered with an overwhelming feeling of grief and loss. Her baby had lived. She could have held her, kissed her downy head, told her she was beautiful. Even if she wasn’t quite right, she would have been beautiful to her. ‘How could you?’ she choked. ‘How could you be so cruel?’

  ‘Me? Cruel?’ he said. ‘I wasn’t cruel. I did what I thought was best.’

  Kaye could barely contain her rage. ‘Who do you think you are, Henry? God?’

  ‘Perhaps I am,’ he said, his voice measured. ‘Anyway, it was all very quick. A pillow, a couple of seconds and it was all over.’

  She stared at him in disbelief. Who was this man? Dear God, Henry was a monster.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘it wasn’t mine, was it.’

  ‘I never made a secret of it,’ she said defensively. ‘You promised you would bring the baby up as yours.’

  ‘I didn’t count on it being deformed,’ said Henry. ‘And a girl …’

  And that’s when it all became clear. It only took a split second but all at once everything fell into place. If he pulled out, they would hit the lorry head-on. There was no going back, but if she did this thing, she could save them all. Annie and her son, Lottie, and even Sarah and her girls. Sarah would take care of Lottie, she felt sure of that. Sarah was a level-headed woman and they were good friends. When the time comes, Mr Young had told her, we will make you as comfortable as possible. She didn’t want to dwell on it but dying could take a long and painful time. This way it would all be over in a matter of seconds. The lorry was coming over the brow of the hill and straight towards them. ‘Pull out now,’ she said calmly.

  The lorry driver had seen them and was standing on his horn. In the split second before Henry realised what she’d done, he tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go. ‘You bitch!’ he shouted and as the tree came up to meet them, there was an almighty bang.

  Twenty-Eight

  Everyone was in a good mood and there had been a lot of laughter around the kitchen table at Copper Beeches. Annie was excited because she had spotted her mother and father walking home together with Edward. She’d hung back when she saw them reach the gate, afraid that her presence might spoil everything, but she did see her father kiss her mother on the cheek and hurry away, presumably to wherever he’d parked his car. Her mother didn’t mention the fact that they’d been together when they met in the hallway, so Annie didn’t mention it either. Even so, she felt sure it was a good omen.

  ‘Does that mean you’ll be leaving us and going back home?’ Lottie asked as they ate their evening meal later on.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ said Annie. ‘I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the past, but I like my life right now. It’s been wonderful having a bit of independence, but if I stay here, I still can’t support Edward on my wages.’

  ‘We will miss you,’ said Sarah, passing the vegetable dish. She meant it sincerely and hoped Annie understood that.

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ Jenny wailed, her eyes already filling with tears. ‘Lu-Lu and me like playing with Edward.’

  ‘Lu-Lu and I,’ her mother gently corrected.

  Annie grasped the little girl’s hand. ‘I’m not going just yet,’ she said. ‘Not for a long, long time. And if I do, Edward and I will have you over to our house to play. You might even be able to sleep over.’

  ‘At your house?’ said Jenny, brightening up.

  ‘Maybe,’ said Annie, glancing across the table at Sarah and giving her a shrug. She looked down. ‘What’s that you’ve got in your hand?’

  Jenny climbed onto her mother’s lap and showed her a piece
of sewing. It was a tray cloth with some simple embroidery done on a large hole fabric. ‘Oh, that’s lovely darling,’ Sarah beamed. The stitches were big and she’d obviously worked the thread using a crewel needle, but the vivid reds and blues brought a splash of colour to the table.

  ‘I did it at school,’ said Jenny, ‘and Mrs Audus says it was the best in the class.’

  ‘Isn’t she clever!’ cried Lottie. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘William Steel thought it was silly,’ said Jenny.

  William Steel, William Steel, Sarah thought angrily. He was beginning to be a real thorn in Jenny’s side. She would have to have a word with Jenny’s teacher.

  ‘Do you know what I think,’ said Sarah, holding the little tray cloth up. ‘I think Mr Lovett would want to buy this for his rich ladies in London.’

  Jenny’s heart was bursting with pride. ‘But it’s a present for you, Mummy.’

  Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat and put it proudly under her plate as they ate the meal. As she looked around the table, she reflected on the changes in all their lives. She and Annie hadn’t had a tetchy conversation for ages; Annie had grown up an awful lot since she’d arrived. Lottie was a completely different woman too. Confident and happy, she had a keen eye when it came to home furnishings and decorating. Even though the war had been over for four years, and things were getting slightly better, the country still had to make do and mend to some degree, but given a tin of paint or a few embroidery silks, Lottie could transform a broken-down chair or a clapped-out fire screen in no time. She’d taught herself a lot of new skills and particularly enjoyed inventing new dishes in the kitchen. Since her successful stint at the Labour Hall, in the past month, Lottie had even joined the WRVS, making quite a few new friends at the tea bar in Worthing Hospital, and she was a member of the Barnardo’s Helpers League, where she was able to sell some of her crafts to raise funds for orphaned children.