“Well, I’m glad that’s all behind you now. I was starting to feel like a bachelor with you and your mother away so much.”
He kissed the top of my head, and I fought back a tear.
“Hey, why don’t you help your old man out a bit and turn up the volume? It’s starting in just a minute.”
“What old man?” I said as I walked over to the radio.
“That’s my girl,” he laughed.
“We interrupt our normal programming for a special report from Downing Street. The Richard Robbins Comedy Hour will return next Wednesday at its regularly scheduled time.”
Oh, no, I thought. Not tonight. Of all nights, not tonight. This wouldn’t help his mood at all.
I was right. Prime Minister Chamberlain came on, followed by a panel of commentators. Germany seemed to be positioning itself to invade the Sudetenland region of Czechoslovakia, and in an effort to appease them, Britain was considering an approval of that move.
“The bloody bastards!” Father shouted. I didn’t know if he meant the Germans or Parliament, whose reluctance to enter the war enraged him. His strong views on this, and his support for Winston Churchill, were well known in Liverpool, causing an ongoing commentary in the newspapers. A recent article had accused him of being a warmonger, because he was surely poised to make a lot of money from it, as the military would no doubt make use of his warehouses.
As for myself, I didn’t like to hear the words Britain and war together, especially right at this moment. I distracted myself with a magazine and tried to keep the pages from rattling as I counted down the minutes to Kyle’s arrival. I looked at my wristwatch and hoped that the news program wouldn’t overrun the hour.
Mother came downstairs, dressed smartly, and said that she was meeting with the committee from the festival to tally the receipts. Father tapped his pipe and nodded as she left. On another occasion, he might have said, “You do too much, Beatrice.” But tonight he sat forward with his arms on his knees, looking like he could bore holes into the radio with his eyes.
This did not bode well for Kyle.
I saw the lights from Kyle’s truck through the window and heard the door as he closed it behind him. Father didn’t flinch, even as the doorbell rang.
I was about to go answer it until I remembered that Mother had hired a butler last week because “there is just so much to do around here.” I knew it was because Mrs. Parkington had hired one, and Mother wasn’t going to be outdone.
The protocol was still new to me, so I sat in my seat and waited for Kyle to be announced. A minute later, there was a knock on the parlor door.
“A gentleman is here to see you, sir.” The butler’s voice was steady and polished. I knew that Mother would have employed only the best.
“Show him into the study,” he responded without inquiring who it might be. I gripped the magazine as I felt my whole body tighten. I wouldn’t even be able to see Kyle before he went in. I was not one to turn to prayer, but I felt as if my life was on the line, and it was as good a time as any to befriend a higher power.
Father stuffed a little more tobacco into his pipe. He stood up, leaving the parlor door open, and walked into the study. I peered around just in time to see the back of Kyle’s head before the large doors were closed behind them.
I held my breath, waiting for the tirade to begin, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I turned off the radio and went into the hallway. I slipped off my shoes so that I wouldn’t make any sound. The marble was cold underneath my stockinged feet, but I didn’t let it bother me. I had to be as close to Kyle as I could.
The silence was thick as a muggy London morning, save for the ominous ticking of the grandfather clock in our parlor.
I paced back and forth, tracing the veins of the marble with my eyes, imagining them as little rivers that went to nowhere. I wondered how they were formed, these thin lines. Did they meander so casually because they were carefree? Or were they trying to escape the confines of the sediment, only to be quarried and immortalized forever on our hallway floor?
After some time I heard the door click, and I tiptoed up to the first landing of the stairs, hiding myself from view. The clock chose just that time to announce itself in nine long, dirgelike tones, and I couldn’t hear what my father and Kyle were saying to each other. By the time it was done, the front door had closed and Father had made his way back to the parlor.
Before he could see that it was empty and come looking for me, I raced to my room, put on a sweater and shoes, and escaped down a side staircase leading to the kitchen. Kyle’s taillights were already two distant dots on the horizon. They were just about to disappear when they stopped. I quickened my pace to catch up. I slowed down just a few yards away, pausing to catch my breath. I walked more deliberately, running my fingers through my hair and composing myself before I saw him.
Kyle stepped out of the truck as I approached. In the glow of the taillights, he was silhouetted, but as I approached, he was quite a sight. He was wearing the suit that he’d worn for his father’s funeral and looked as handsome as I’d ever seen him. He didn’t smile when he saw me, though, and he was immobile when I threw my arms around him. I didn’t know if my heart or his was beating more quickly. Without speaking, he led me to the other side of the truck, opened my door, and helped me in.
He came back around to his side and closed the door. I moved to slide in closer, but he took my hand firmly and kept me just where I was. He looked at me but turned away when he caught my eye.
“What is it, Kyle?” I didn’t like what I was seeing.
He finally spoke, still looking forward. “Why do you want to marry me, Julianne?” His shoulders sagged and his voice was passionless.
“What do you mean, why do I want to marry you?”
“I mean, you can do a lot better. Quite a lot better.”
“You know that’s not true. What happened in there?”
He finally looked my direction, but still thwarted any efforts on my part to move in closer. “Your father looked surprised to see me, no doubt, and told me that he thought he’d already made his feelings known to you. But to his credit, he kept his composure and offered me a seat.”
“Did he sit next to you or behind the desk?”
“Behind the desk.”
“Oh, that’s not a good sign.”
“Why do you say that?”
“When I was little, I could tell if I was in trouble for something when I was called in to his study and I saw where he was sitting. If he was in the chair beside the other one, he just wanted to have a chat. But if he was in that oversized chair behind the desk, I knew I’d done something wrong. He means business when he sits there.”
“Well, that would be in line with how it went.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Neither good nor bad, I guess.” He turned to the front window again.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that we had a conversation, man to man, that made me realize a few things. He didn’t get angry like I might have expected. In fact, I think on some level, he respected that I was coming to him. But he was adamant, Julianne, about the one thing I’d been struggling with myself. It’s not good for you to be with me.”
He wasn’t going to keep me away after saying something like that. I moved in next to him, grabbed his arm, and forced him to look at me.
“Don’t listen to him! There isn’t any truth in that. Don’t you understand? He has a way of making people see his side of things! He is a master of manipulating things to his advantage. How do you think he became as successful as he did?”
“I don’t know about all that. I just know that he wants what’s best for you, and so do I. And he made me see that you’d be better off with someone else.”
“That’s mad. Please stop saying things like that. Don’t you look away again; look at me!”
His voice became frantic. “I am looking at you. And I’m seeing the truth. But surely you see it, too. You can hav
e anyone. You have the world at your fingertips. I am nothing. I have no way to provide for you in the way that you’re used to. I have no parents. Not to mention that my religion makes me some kind of enemy to you.”
“I don’t give two pence about that, and you know it! He’s got to you, Kyle. Please don’t let it happen. Please.” My face fell to my chest, and my nails dug into my clenched fists.
“No, he hasn’t got to me. He just made me see what I would have already known if I hadn’t been so selfish. And what you’ll see after it’s too late. What if you don’t really love me, Julianne? What if you only think that you love me, but I’m just an escape to you? You told me yourself that you chose nursing, in part, because it would put you on your own path and was the opposite of what they wanted.”
If he had hit me, it wouldn’t have stung any more than him throwing my own words back at me. “How dare you compare that! That’s entirely different, and it’s not even like that anymore. I like what I’m doing, you know that.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that this is wrong on so many levels, and as much as it kills me to say it, we can’t let this go on.”
I turned away and stared into the night sky. Was this what it meant to be star-crossed?
“Kyle, look. I don’t know what it will take to make you believe in what I feel for you. But if you don’t want to be with me anymore, then I won’t make you.” My words were slow and deliberate, and each one burned in my mouth as I said them.
“Darling.” His voice sounded so sad. “Look at me.”
I wiped away the mascara that was undoubtedly winding its way down my cheeks. His finger met mine there, then left it behind and traced a tender course down the side of my face.
“I want to be with you more than anything,” he whispered. “I’ve given up everything I’ve ever known to be with you. But there is only one thing that I want more, and that is your happiness. I couldn’t bear it if someday you woke up and regretted everything that you’d given up for me.”
“Isn’t that what love is? Isn’t it, Kyle? Giving everything to each other?”
“You’re right, it is. But it also means looking out for the good of the other.”
“If you end this, if you leave me, I would rather wither away and die. You can’t tell me that that’s any good for me.”
“You won’t. You’ll meet someone else in time, and go on to think of this as a lovely summer and a dear friendship. But you will be glad that everything else is intact.”
“Nothing is intact if I don’t have you.” I pulled him toward me so that the steering wheel wouldn’t be in the way, and I kissed him hard, so hard that it could bruise. I was angry and hurt, but I knew that he was doing this because he loved me. He had to know that I loved him back. That I would give him everything, right now, right here in the cab of this truck. He’d have to marry me then. He’d have to know that I was serious.
He started to draw away from me, but only half-heartedly. I pinned him in place, sliding my legs on either side of him, and he stopped resisting me. He kissed me back, deeply, until I couldn’t breathe. I moved my lips to his neck, traced it with the tip of my tongue up to his earlobe. I tugged at it gently, and he let out a quick gasp.
He tightened his arms around me and loosened the back of my blouse from my skirt. His hands slipped underneath to my skin. I stopped kissing him and held my breath as I felt his hands moving up and down my bare back and then around until his thumbs were tracing the outlines of my breasts. Crazed with wanting more, I had started to unbutton the front of my blouse when his hands abruptly moved to my hips and he pushed me back onto the seat of the truck. I hadn’t even finished the second button yet.
“We can’t do this. Not here.”
“You’re right. Someone is bound to drive by. Let’s go back to your flat.” I looked out the window to check for passersby.
“That’s not what I mean. We can’t do it like this. I want you, Julianne,” he said in a throaty, frayed voice. “Believe me, I do.” He dragged his fingers hard through his hair, which was matted down with sweat. “But not this way. You’ll always regret it. We should be married first.”
“You mean it?” Now he was making sense. “You still want to get married?”
“Of course I do. It’s all I’ve wanted. I guess you convinced me that you do, too.”
“Are you sure you don’t need more persuasion?” I moved in to continue where we’d left off, but he held me firmly in place.
“Any more persuasion, and someone’s going to call the coppers.”
He turned the key and started the ignition.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have doubted us. I just love you and want you to be happy. I want you to be sure. Always.”
“I am happy. Deliriously happy. But I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do.”
“Here’s a handkerchief. Why don’t you wipe your eyes, and I’ll drive you back home.”
“All right. But Kyle?”
“Yes?”
“What do we do now? I mean, what is the next step?”
He took a deep breath. “The next step is for me to go back to your father—tonight, now—and tell him the truth about our plans.”
I considered this for a moment. I didn’t want to start a marriage on a bed of deception. But I knew how formidable my father was and what strings he would pull out of love for me. I did not want to take the risk that he could come up with some obstacle to keep this from happening. I told Kyle as much.
“You’re probably right,” he sighed. “There really isn’t any other choice. I will have to talk to Father Sullivan, though, to get the process started. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”
“Hurry, then. As long as I’m not going to have the big family wedding, I’d rather do this sooner than later.”
He looked somber for a moment. “And you’re absolutely sure about this? No big wedding? No newspaper write-up?” He grinned. Surely he knew by now that those things were not important to me.
“Oh, you’re right. No months spent deliberating over a dress and menu, or finding musicians, or booking the church, or making seating arrangements or—”
“I get it, I get it. Maybe I’m helping you more than I thought.”
“You are, love. A wedding is just a day. Our marriage is going to be forever.” I pecked his cheek and faced forward as he drove me the very short distance home.
I slipped in through the side entrance and took the back stairs up to my bedroom. I heard my father calling for me around the house. I didn’t even bother taking my clothes off, as I wanted to get straight into bed in case he came up here. I pulled the covers up to my face just before I heard my father walk past my door. I closed my eyes tightly and willed my heart to still and my breath to slow as he paused. Please don’t knock. And he didn’t.
The next morning I got up very early and sped off in the Aston Martin before my parents were up. I had woefully neglected Charles, and it was high time that I saw him.
Bootle Home wasn’t even open to visitors when I got there, so I parked and waited for an hour until its doors were unlocked. I stepped up just in time to see Miss Ellis ascending the stairs on her way in.
“Why, Miss Westcott, sweetheart! You are a sight! We’ve missed you around here.” She gave me a big hug, the kind a girl might expect to receive from her mother. “You’ve been too much of a stranger.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. Has Charles missed me?”
“Well, my girl, you know how it is with him. It’s hard to tell what he thinks. But I’m sure that he’ll be happy to know that you’re here.”
We reached the top of the steps and I opened the door for her.
“Now I have a few more minutes before I have to turn the telephone on. Why don’t I come sit with you and you tell me everything that’s been going on with you.”
She opened the door to the reception area and joined me on the couch.
“Well, for starters, Miss Ellis, I’m
not going to be Miss Westcott for much longer.”
“Oh, now is that a fact, young missy? Do tell all.”
“I’m going to be Mrs. McCarthy quite soon.”
Her squeal could certainly be heard down the hallway, and she clapped her hands in delight. It was so nice to tell someone, especially someone who would be so excited about it. But more than that, it felt good to say Mrs. McCarthy. Julianne McCarthy. Mrs. Julianne McCarthy. Mrs. McCarthy. That was it. I liked that one.
She peppered me for details, grinning and frowning as the story called for but ending with a warning.
“You tread carefully now, dear. Upsetting your parents is not something to trifle with, and you might end up regretting it.”
“I know.” I did feel sorry for them, in a way. Their son, here at Bootle, all but forgotten by them. Their daughter, disappointing them beyond measure. For two people to whom status and reputation meant so much, their children had certainly let them down.
“May I see Charles now?”
My brother was being bathed before breakfast. They allowed me to wait in his room until he was back. Before long, Charles shuffled in on the arm of a new and perfunctory orderly, who seemed happy to leave him to my care while he went on to see to his other patients.
I took my brother by the hand and led him over to the window where some of the plants had grown quite impressively. He smiled as soon as we were touching them together.
I pulled a little wooden train out of my handbag and helped him feel it rolling on the table. He smiled again.
“I’m going to have to say good-bye once more,” I told him. “I know it’s not fair, since I was barely here all summer anyway. But I’m going back to school. And I’m getting married. To Kyle. I know that you know Kyle, the one who gave you the plant. You brought us together, Charles, do you realize that? Thank you.”
Of course, he couldn’t hear me. But when I left, I gave him the biggest hug, one that I hoped would communicate everything to him.
“I don’t know when I’m going to see you again, but I love you. And I’ll write more this time. I promise.”
The Memory of Us: A Novel Page 20