The Lost Daughters: A moving saga of womanhood

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  Johnny had accompanied her to Liverpool Street and seen her on to the train.

  ‘You will write and let me know you got home safely, won’t you?’ she said, a look of concern in her eyes as the train began to draw out.

  Cathy promised that she would, then watched bleakly as the train gathered speed and the homely figure waving from the platform grew smaller and further away.

  Looking out of the window from her corner seat as the grimy buildings gave way to fields and trees she felt as though a whole segment of her life had been stripped away; torn from her, leaving a raw and painful scar that she was obliged to keep concealed. In four short weeks she had become a different person. Her own judge and jury, she had been found guilty and sentenced — for the crime she had committed against herself. But now that she was going home she must behave as though nothing had happened. It was going to be the hardest thing she had done in her whole life.

  Gerald met her at the station. He greeted her absently, as though he had scarcely missed her. On the drive to Melfordleigh, she gathered from him that the seminars had gone extremely well. The four weekend concerts she had missed had been a great success, and Simon had been working hard in preparation for his concert debut. In fact, everything ran as well in her absence as it did when she was there.

  At Cuckoo Lodge, Maggie regaled her with her own version of events. ‘Should’a seen some of them music students who came to the jazz concert,’ she said, rolling her eyes ceilingwards. ‘Long hair and beards. Flared jeans, and some of’em were wearing them what-ya-call-em — caffeine things.’

  Cathy hid a smile. ‘Caftans, I think.’

  Maggie shrugged. ‘Well, whatever they’re called they look damn’ silly on fellers,’ she said. ‘Makes ’em look a right bunch of jessies. A lot of the serious ones are getting to be as bad too. Little wire glasses some of ’em have taken to wearing.’ She formed her fingers into circles, holding them in front of her eyes. ‘Just like my old granny. Dunno what the world is coming to, I’ll tell you. If my kids start wearing stuff like that they’ll get the rough side of my tongue and no mistake.’

  She also probed Cathy subtly about the illness that had obliged her to stay on at Johnny’s for an extra two weeks.

  ‘Shame, you being poorly while you was on holiday,’ she said, peering closely at her. ‘You’re still looking peaky. Still, I daresay the sea air’ll put the roses back. Always works a treat, does our bracing Suffolk air.’ She glanced surreptitiously at Cathy out of the corner of her eye as she got on with peeling potatoes. ‘What did you say was the matter?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Cathy said. ‘It was just a touch of summer flu.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘Ah. Nasty, that can be at this time of year. We’ll have to take care of you. Make sure you get plenty of good food and rest.’

  Going upstairs later that evening Cathy found Gerald moving his things out of their room into a small one at the end of the corridor that they had deemed too small for visitors or students. Standing in the doorway, she watched him for a moment.

  ‘Why are you moving out of our room, Gerald?’ she asked at last.

  He glanced round at her. ‘With some of the concerts and master classes going on so late I thought I might disturb you. There’s a lot to do if I’m to be away for several weeks.’

  ‘You’ve always slept in the dressing room anyway,’ she reminded him. ‘It seems a pity to move out. With so many other people around the house, sharing a room is the only chance we ever get to talk privately.’

  He looked at her. ‘Is there something you want to discuss?’

  ‘No, but it’s nice to talk — to be alone together sometimes.’

  ‘I’m sure we can still find enough privacy for that,’ he said dismissively. ‘The summer season will be over soon. And Simon will be gone in a few weeks’ time. We’ll have the whole house to ourselves then.’

  ‘But it will be almost time for you to go to New Zealand then.’

  He patted her shoulder as he passed on his way out of the room. ‘Not quite.’

  Her heart rose as she followed him along the landing. ‘Does that mean we could take a holiday, Gerald? Perhaps we could go back to Davos. I’d love to go there again.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’

  ‘Well perhaps somewhere in this country — somewhere we could be together, away from here.’

  ‘I thought you liked this place so much.’

  ‘Everyone deserves a break, surely?’

  ‘I thought you’d just had one. Which reminds me … ’ He frowned as he deposited the armful of clothes he had been carrying on to the bed. ‘You seem to have spent an awful lot of money during your stay with Mrs Johnson. I had the bank statement this morning.’

  She felt the warm blood suffuse her face. ‘I know, I meant to mention it. I bought a few new things — clothes.’

  ‘From the amount you got through I’d say you bought enough to stage a fashion show.’

  ‘I hadn’t bought anything new since we first married, Gerald. You don’t grudge me the money, do you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t if we had it. I’m still paying the builders, you know. I don’t think you realise just how much the school cost to get off the ground.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s because you never discuss anything with me,’ she countered.

  ‘There’s no reason why I should bother you with it — normally,’ he said. ‘Then there’s the expense of my operation looming. It’s going to be some time before we’re clear of debt.’

  ‘I see. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Well, now that you know I’m sure you’ll be careful.’ He glanced at her. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve had a bit of luck. A piece of music I wrote some time ago is about to be published.’

  ‘I didn’t know you ever wrote music.’

  ‘As I said, it was some time ago. A rhapsody for piano and orchestra. Once royalties for that start coming in things will be easier. It will help to remind the public that I’m still around too.’

  ‘Congratulations.’ She began putting his shirts away in the drawers. ‘Gerald, if we can’t have a holiday, what shall we do with the two weeks we have before you leave? Perhaps we could see some of the countryside. There seems to have been no time at all for us to be together what with the school and everything.’

  He sighed. ‘It’s a nice idea, but I may have to go up to London for some of that time. As I said, there are things I need to tie up before I leave. I’d rather like to be at Simon’s first concert too.’

  ‘I see.’ Her heart sank. It was almost as though he was finding every possible excuse not to spend any time alone with her. ‘Maybe Johnny will come and stay with me for a few days.’

  ‘I daresay.’

  ‘I saw Rosalind Blair while I was home,’ she went on. ‘I thought it might be nice if she could visit while you’re away.’

  He frowned. ‘Rosalind Blair?’

  ‘Yes. She’s a school friend. She was at the wedding, remember?’

  ‘An ungainly dark girl? Glasses and frumpy clothes?’ He shrugged. ‘If you’re desperate for company invite her by all means.’

  *

  The weeks passed drearily. Gerald was fully occupied with coaching Simon and preparing for his approaching absence. Cathy walked on the dunes. Sometimes she took her paints and tried to lose herself in the hobby, but somehow the pleasure seemed to have gone out of it. Would Gerald’s operation really change anything between them? What had she done to make him fall so completely out of love with her? Would there ever really be a new start now that he had changed so much? Once he was well again would he want to go back to his old life and his friends, especially Kay?

  Although she tried hard not to think of it, her mind was constantly haunted by thoughts of the baby she might have had. In the bleak small hours of her lonely wakeful nights the questions and speculations heaped one upon the other. Would her child have been a boy or a girl? Would it have looked like her? Would her father’s grandchild have inherited his ge
ntle nature and his musical talent? Now she would never know and it seemed unbearably, intolerably sad. In the dark empty hours she longed for the comfort of Gerald’s arms; the closeness they had once shared which seemed now a thing of the past. Sometimes she thought she would never recover from the feeling of loss.

  Before she had returned to Melfordleigh, Johnny insisted on taking her to a doctor to make sure no damage had been done. The doctor, a stranger in another part of London whom she had paid for a private consultation, had examined her thoroughly. If he had been suspicious about the reason for her miscarriage he had not shown it. To her relief he had pronounced her well, if a little anaemic. But no amount of probings or medicine — not even Johnny’s wise counselling — could come anywhere near healing the deep wound in her heart. Had she made the sacrifice for nothing? Could Gerald possibly have loved her any the less if he had known of her adultery?

  Late one afternoon at the beginning of October she was walking back towards the village when she saw a figure coming towards her. Too late she recognised Simon. Lately he had grown his hair longer and taken to wearing the slim-fitting shirts and flared jeans so despised by Maggie. He raised a hand to wave to her. Reluctantly she acknowledged the greeting and stood still, resigned, waiting for him to catch her up.

  ‘Thought I might find you out here,’ he said. ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m off next week as you know and I thought I might not get another chance.’

  She kept on walking. ‘I don’t think you and I really have anything to talk about, Simon.’

  ‘I think we do.’ He put out a hand to stop her and she turned and looked at him. ‘Sit down a moment,’ he said. ‘There’s no hurry to get back, is there?’

  ‘No, except … ’ She shivered. ‘It gets cold in the afternoons now.’ Reluctantly she sat down among the tall, wiry grass, wrapping her arms around herself.

  He lowered himself beside her. ‘Are you all right, Cathy?’

  ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Anyone with half an eye can see you’re not happy. And you don’t look well either.’

  ‘Well, that’s my problem, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not because of me, is it? You’re not angry — about what happened between us?’

  ‘No.’ She glanced quickly at him. Was it possible that he had guessed? ‘It’s ancient history. It wasn’t important anyway.’

  ‘I know you regret it, but I want you to know that I don’t. It was something special to me, Cathy. Even if I did handle it clumsily.’ He looked at her. ‘I meant what I said, you know. You should never have married Gerald. He isn’t right for you.’

  ‘And I meant what I said; that it’s none of your business.’ She wished with all her heart that it was time for him to leave. There would be no peace until then. Every time she was forced to look at him she was reminded of the child they had conceived.

  For a moment he was silent, then he turned to her and said, ‘You know she’s going to New Zealand with him, don’t you?’

  Her head snapped round to look at him. ‘Who?’

  ‘Kay, of course. Who else? Oh, look, Cathy, I know I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but she was here while you were away. Ostensibly it was to see me and arrange the publicity for the tour, but anyone can see that there’s something going on between her and Gerald. She’s flying out with him on the fourth. I heard her mention it. Oh, not purposely to be with him. It’s true that she does have business of her own there. But nevertheless…’

  ‘Gerald is ill. He’s going to New Zealand for an operation. You know all that,’ she said. ‘We can’t afford for me to go too, so if Kay has to go to New Zealand on business it’s good that she should keep him company.’ She turned to glare angrily at him. ‘Why are you so determined to make trouble between us?’ She got up and began to walk away very fast, but he scrambled to his feet and was soon walking beside her.

  ‘I’m not trying to make trouble. If it’s all as innocent as you say, why didn’t you know about it?’

  ‘I did!’ she protested unconvincingly. Tears of humiliation sprang to her eyes and Simon grasped her arm and swung her round to face him.

  ‘Cathy! Believe it or not, I do care about you. I happen to think you’re getting a raw deal and I don’t like to see you being deceived.’

  ‘Maybe it’s no more than I deserve,’ she said bitterly. ‘After all, we — I deceived him, didn’t I?’

  ‘You think I’m being disloyal, don’t you?’

  ‘Since you ask, I think you could show more loyalty and respect to the man who has devoted more than a year of his life to your career,’ she said. ‘You owe him that at least.’

  He walked beside her in silence for a moment. ‘I meant it when I said I wanted us to be friends,’ he said at last.

  ‘Friends?' She stopped and turned to face him, her mind in turmoil. If he only knew! At that moment she longed to tell him of the price she had paid for a moment’s vulnerability; of the heartbreaking sacrifice, the risk and pain she had put herself through. She stopped herself just in time. ‘I don’t want to hear any of this, Simon,’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘When I need help to sort out my life I’ll ask someone and it won’t be you. If we don’t speak again I hope your concert tour — and your future career — is a success. Now will you please leave me alone?’

  *

  Simon left for his concert tour ten days later and on the following Monday Gerald began to pack. He planned to go to London first then on to Manchester where Simon was to make his debut. He would fly to New Zealand from there.

  ‘You won’t be back then?’ Cathy asked as she helped him choose the clothes he would take.

  ‘It hardly seems worth it. I can tie up a lot of loose ends while I’m in town, then fly out from Manchester the day after the concert.’

  ‘Shall I come with you? To London, I mean.’

  He turned to stare at her. ‘Why?’

  ‘I thought — you might like to have me with you,’ she said quietly. ‘We see so little of each other and you’ll be away at least six weeks altogether.’

  He fastened the case he had finished packing and turned to look at her. As their eyes met his face relaxed a little. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy. All this hasn’t been much fun for you, has it?’ He put his arms around her awkwardly, as though she were a stranger. ‘I really can’t see much point in you coming to London though. You’d be bored, sitting alone for hours while I was out.’

  ‘I daresay Johnny would put us up if I asked her,’ she said hopefully.

  He shook his head firmly. ‘No, Cathy.’

  ‘What is this business you have to do?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s mostly to do with the school,’ he told her vaguely. ‘And I have to see James Kendrick, my agent, too. There is talk of a premiere of my rhapsody. Erhart Froebel the conductor is looking for new works to perform at a special concert he’s planning for next year’s Proms. James thought it might be nice if Simon could be the soloist and he’s going to try to arrange a meeting between the three of us.’

  ‘So — where will you stay?’ she asked.

  ‘With a friend.’

  ‘Which friend?’

  Gerald frowned impatiently, his moment of compassion forgotten. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Cathy! Does it matter?’

  *

  The house seemed bleak when everyone had gone. Once again Melfordleigh seemed to be settling down for winter. Maggie had reluctantly asked for time off. Her widowed father, who lived on the other side of Ipswich, had just come out of hospital following an operation and she wanted to bring him to stay with her for a while. Cathy didn’t need her anyway, so she agreed.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t mind being in this great place all on your own?’ Maggie asked her anxiously.

  Assuming a cheerfulness she did not feel, Cathy assured her that she would not, adding that even when the house was full she was alone.

  Lying in bed in the empty house, listening to the north wind buffeting the ch
imneys, she thought about what Simon had told her. Was Kay really going to New Zealand with Gerald? Perhaps she was the ‘friend’ he was staying with in London. Next morning, obsessed with the desire to find out, she looked through the address book in the study for Kay’s telephone number. For a long moment she sat staring uncertainly at the telephone. She was behaving like a suspicious wife and despised herself for it. Then, making up her mind, she reached out and dialled the number with trembling fingers. After several rings she was about to put the receiver down when it was lifted. A male voice answered by repeating the number. The voice was unmistakably Gerald’s. Without speaking she dropped the receiver back on to its rest, her heart thudding dully in her chest. So it was true.

  Sick with the thoughts that tormented her and desperate for company to block them out, she rang Johnny.

  ‘Gerald left two days ago. You did say you’d come and stay.’

  ‘Oh, Cathy.’ Johnny’s voice was apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, love. It’s impossible at the moment. Mother was rushed into hospital yesterday. It’s another stroke, I’m afraid, and they aren’t very optimistic this time. I have to be close at hand.’

  ‘Of course. I understand. Poor Johnny. I’m so sorry.’

  She sat for a long time in front of the telephone, then she picked up the receiver again and dialled the number of the Queen’s Head. It was Rosalind who answered.

  ‘Queen’s Head. Reception. Can I help you?’

  ‘Rosalind? It’s Cathy Cavelle.’

  ‘Cathy! How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. Look, how about coming for that visit? Can you get any time off?’

  ‘I’d love to come, Cathy. I am due some time in lieu of overtime, and it’s half term at college next week. I’m not sure how long I have off though. Can I get back to you?’

  ‘Of course. I’ll wait to hear from you.’

  Rosalind rang back an hour later with the news that she could have a week off beginning the following Saturday. She sounded pleased and excited, but no less so than Cathy. Delighted at having something to do, she ran upstairs to get a room ready, choosing one that had a view of the garden and got the morning sun.