by Susan Lewis
He took a sip of his tea then set the cup back in the saucer. ‘I’m aware of the story your mother told you,’ he began on a long breath, ‘and it is true that she was working in a Brighton dress shop when she met Phillip – your father. It’s also true that they fell in love at first sight. In your father’s own words, Edwina wasn’t like all the other girls he’d met. She had no affectations, no guile, just innocence and, as you know, a great beauty. She trusted him and loved him, and in a fit of youthful romanticism Phillip decided that he should marry her before deflowering her. Which is what he did.
‘They told no one until after the honeymoon was over. It was then that the trouble began. When he took her home.
‘Phillip’s mother and father were furious. Phillip was only just out of University and they had a great future planned for him, which included hopes of a brilliant marriage to Octavia Farrington, the daughter of a close friend of the family.
‘Serena, Phillip’s mother, was, I believe, right from the start, inordinately cruel to Edwina, and from what I remember of Serena, I have no problem in believing that. She treated your mother as though she were incapable of normal human sensitivities. She was also behind Harold, your grandfather’s, threat to cut Phillip off if he didn’t end the marriage immediately. The only person who showed Edwina any kindness at all was Cornelia, Phillip’s grandmother. Your mother named you after Cornelia,’ he smiled.
Corrie didn’t say anything.
‘In no time at all Serena set about convincing Phillip that Edwina was doing nothing to advance him either socially, or professionally,’ Ted continued, ‘if anything she was holding him back. Phillip himself was confused, and, remember, very young. I think initially he stood up to her, but Serena was a formidable woman, and clever. It took only a matter of weeks for her to show Phillip just how inept his new wife was when it came to holding her own in their world. Of course Edwina could have managed, given the chance, but Serena saw to it that she was never given the chance. It would be better all round, Serena insisted, if Phillip were to leave Edwina at home rather than introduce her into their élite circle of friends. It was for Edwina’s own good, since she was so painfully shy with those who were her superiors she would be sure to embarrass not only herself, but him too. To keep the peace with his mother Phillip started to do as she said. Whether Edwina fought back I don’t know. All I do know is that in the end neither of them could stand up to Serena, so Edwina decided to leave. She still loved Phillip, despite his weakness, but she knew he wasn’t happy. And of course neither was she. When Cornelia found out that Edwina was planning to go she offered to intervene, but Edwina wouldn’t let her. She didn’t want a family feud to start because of her. So it was Cornelia, not long before her death, who called me and asked me to deal with matters. Harold and Phillip came to see me and we arranged for a lump sum, which Edwina and I have invested over the years, to be paid to Edwina to get her started somewhere new. The divorce followed not long after.
‘Edwina chose to live in Amberside because the Denbys – your father’s family – have a country estate nearby.’ He paused for a moment as a flicker of recognition dulled Corrie’s eyes. He waited for her to speak, but she said nothing. ‘Edwina believed,’ he went on, ‘that in Amberside she would always feel a closeness to Phillip, even though she knew she would probably never see him. And in all these years I don’t think she ever did. Except once. A year after you were born. It was the day Phillip married Octavia Farrington. He married her here, at St. Mary’s, and Edwina, like everyone else from the village, went to watch. She took you with her, in your pushchair, and stood on the edge of the crowd until the bride and groom came out of the church, then she left. She didn’t want him to see her. I think most particularly of all she didn’t want him to see you. Whether Philip knew that Edwina lived here in Amberside I can’t say, but I doubt it. He never asked me what happened to her, she never asked me to tell him. All I do know, as you do yourself, is that your mother never really stopped loving him.’ What he wanted to add was that it was a tragedy that Edwina had wasted her love on a man like Phillip Denby, who, to his mind, had never been worthy of Edwina. Instead, he merely took another deep breath, then letting it out slowly said, ‘I’m sorry I’ve had to be the one to tell you, Corrie, but it was the way Edwina wanted it.’
A long silence followed his words. The strange weightlessness had left Corrie now, in its place she felt the heaviness of betrayal and pain; she felt anger that both her parents had been so weak, and she felt hatred too, for Serena, a grandmother she had never known.
Her voice was hoarse when finally she spoke. ‘Does my father know …? Does he know I exist?’
Ted shook his head.
‘I see.’ Corrie put a hand to her mouth and started to chew her nails, something she hadn’t done since she was a child. Suddenly realizing what she was doing she snatched her hand away and looked at Ted again. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’
‘No, I think you have it all.’
Corrie nodded. ‘My grandparents, are either of them still alive?’
‘No.’
‘Do you know where my father is now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you in touch with him?’
‘Not often.’
Corrie’s face was hard. ‘I see. Well, it looks like I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, so I’ll go home now if you don’t mind.’
‘Auntie Hattie and I were hoping you’d stay for dinner.’
‘No. I’d rather be alone, if you don’t mind.’
‘Corrie,’ Ted said softly, as he was helping her into her coat, ‘I know you’re angry, but please, don’t be too hard on your mother. None of this has been easy for her.’
‘No, I don’t suppose it has,’ Corrie answered stiffly. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ and she ran out into the fading afternoon.
‘How could she have allowed me to believe he was so bloody wonderful when he treated her like that?’ she raged to Paula later. ‘How could he have been so weak, so spineless as to have let her go so easily? Uncle Ted said they were in love, at the beginning, so why didn’t he stand by her? God I hate him! I hate him so much I’d like to kill him. And my own mother! How could she have wasted her life like that – on someone like that!’
‘Oh come on now,’ Paula said. ‘You’re making judgements on two people you don’t even know.’
‘She was my mother!’
‘Yes. But she was also once a young girl. A young bride. You didn’t know that person. You didn’t know what it was like to be her. How much she had to suffer at the hands of his mother.’
‘But why did she live this lie? Why didn’t she ever tell me the truth?’
‘Probably because she didn’t want to hurt you.’
‘But I had a right to know my father. He had a right to know me. She denied us that.’
‘How do you know? Maybe she did tell him. Maybe he didn’t want to know.’ Paula groaned inwardly at her insensitivity. ‘She’s not denying you now though is she? She wanted you to know about him, otherwise she’d never have asked Ted …’
‘But what about all the years I was growing up? Even if he didn’t want me, she still should have told me.’
‘Corrie, what would you have done in her shoes? I mean what if she had told your father and he hadn’t wanted to know? Knowing you you’d have wanted to meet him anyway, and I can’t imagine for one minute that Edwina would have wanted you to face that rejection. Or worse. What if he had wanted you? She could never have stood up to a powerful family like that alone. She’d have lost you and you were all she had.’
‘I’d never have left her!’ Corrie cried, kicking the fire guard. ‘She must have known that. Oh why isn’t she here, damn it?’
Paula sat quietly for a minute or two feeling, because she loved her, some of the pain that showed in Corrie’s stricken face. ‘I know this might not be what you want to hear right now,’ she said finally, ‘but I don’t think your father can be all bad. I mean, E
dwina would never have loved him as deeply as she did, for as long as she did, if he were.’
‘I want to hate him, thank you very much,’ Corrie snapped. She looked at her watch. ‘I expect Beth will be wanting her feed, won’t she?’
With a sigh of resignation Paula stood up. ‘Won’t you come over and have some dinner with us?’
‘No. No thank you, ’ Corrie said tersely.
‘So you’re going to sit here on your own and fester over all this?’
‘Yes.’
Paula looked at her sadly, but knew there was no point in trying to coax her out of it. ‘Well, you know where I am,’ she said, as they walked out into the hall, ‘you only have to pick up the phone. I’ll always be there for you, you know that.’
‘No, I don’t know it. I don’t know who I can trust anymore. I mean if my own mother can let me down like this …’ Her voice broke, but catching herself in time, she pulled open the front door, ‘Yes, I know you’ll always be there for me. Thanks.’
Corrie stood at the door watching Paula walk away. She was numb, devoid of all feeling. But then, as those familiar, precious blonde curls started to bob about in the wind she suddenly wanted to call Paula back. She opened her mouth, but no sound came.
She closed the door and sank down onto the bottom stair burying her head in her hands. All around her the house was silent, so agonizingly still and silent. She sat there for a long time, holding herself tense, hardly daring to breathe, suffocating in the engulfing emptiness. Everything inside her was welling so wildly, so uncontrollably that she didn’t dare to move. She must hold on, mustn’t let go. To do that would be to admit, finally to surrender … But it was all right, everything was all right … She could bear this, her anger would hold her together. Slowly she lifted her head. A familiar colour seemed to twitch in the corner of her eye. She turned and saw the sleeve of her mother’s coat, hanging beneath her own on the end of the bannister. Unthinkingly, she reached out to touch it, then edging closer she rested her face against it. She could smell her mother; it was as though Edwina were standing right there beside her.
Suddenly her heart heaved in her chest, pushing the pain into her throat. She cried out. Then the sobs started to tear through her body, and she clung to the sleeve as though it were Edwina’s own hand. ‘Oh Mum,’ she choked, ‘Mum, why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t need to protect me so much, you know? Oh Mum, Mum, what am I going to do without you? You’re all alone now. I can’t bear to think of you all alone in the darkness. Come back to me, please.’ A week later Corrie was once again in Uncle Ted’s library. Her hair was scraped back in a pony tail, her face was still pale, and the smattering of freckles on her nose stood out vividly. She seemed calm, but no longer frighteningly so, and as Ted listened to the decisions she had reached he was again impressed by the inner strength that he knew she had not inherited from either of her parents. She was going to move to London, soon, she was telling him, just as she’d always wanted. Paula and Dave were going to rent the cottage, and would Auntie Hattie like to run the shop? They both smiled at that, since they knew that Hattie would jump at the chance.
For a moment or two Ted’s mind wandered. He could suddenly see Corrie’s new, though fragile, self-confidence at the mercy of London and it bothered him. So many young people still believed London to be the land of golden opportunity, but those days had long gone – if they had ever even existed. Now it was a rat-race the like of which terrified even him. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Corrie could survive it, he was simply afraid of the cost. Unlike her, the men in the village, the women too, he imagined, were not ignorant of the way Corrie looked. She considered herself too tall, too large, and lamentably plain. True, she was no beauty, but her body was surely a gift from the gods. Round and firm and rippling sensuality in a way he had rarely seen in any other woman. What kind of trouble would that lead her into? There were so many who were just waiting to prey on the innocence of a young girl – and a girl such as Corrie would be manna from heaven. But she had money, he reassured himself, and she had him to help her get started.
She had a streak of her great-grandmother in her, he was thinking happily, when she suddenly said something that brought him up sharply. He’d been expecting it, of course, but not quite this soon.
‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘Have you thought it through?’
‘I think so,’ Corrie answered. ‘Besides, what is there to think through? I have a father. I’d like to meet him. I take it he does live in London?’
Ted nodded. ‘Yes. Yes he does.’
‘Naturally I don’t want to go to his home. That would cause all sorts of problems, I’m sure, since he’s married again. I can’t say that I have any feelings for him, not after the way he treated my mother, but I’m prepared to give him a chance. Let’s just hope he’s prepared to give me one.’ When Ted made no comment she went on. ‘Paula accused me of sitting in judgement on him, and my mother. She’s right, I am. At least I was. Now all I want to do is meet Phillip Denby for myself. So, will you arrange it for me, Uncle Ted?’
Ted pursed his lips thoughtfully and rocked back and forth in his chair. ‘Yes. I can arrange it,’ he answered. ‘If you’re absolutely sure that’s what you want.’
‘I’m sure. I would prefer that he didn’t know who I am, though. At least not at first. I guess that makes things more difficult for you?’
‘A little. But not impossible. I’ll give it some thought.’
‘I already have,’ Corrie said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.
A twinkle shot to Ted’s eyes. ‘And what would you have me do?’ he said.
Corrie’s burst of assertiveness seemed to flounder for a moment, but taking heart from the affection in Ted’s eyes she said, ‘I will need a job when I get to London so perhaps you could ask my father to help. I’m not suggesting that he should give me a job, rather that he might be able to put me in touch with someone who can. I know I’m not qualified for much more than running a shop, but I’m willing to start at the bottom and work my way up.’
Ted grinned. ‘Up to what? A take over?’
Corrie grinned too. ‘Don’t rule it out.’
‘And in which particular field would you be interested?’
Corrie eyed him sheepishly as she pushed out her cheek with her tongue.
‘The media,’ he answered for her.
‘All right, I know I’m asking for the moon, the stars, the whole galaxy, I guess …’
‘You are. Particularly these days. So few jobs and so many contenders. Much more qualified than you. Nevertheless, I might be able to work something out for you. Better still, your father might. He’s a banker, bankers know a lot of people. He might be a little more willing to help though if he knew you were his daughter.’
‘I do intend to tell him, but I’d like to meet him first. See what kind of a man he is.’
‘OK. Just let me know when you’re ready to go. Have you thought about somewhere to live?’
‘I’ll rent somewhere for a while, until I find a place to buy. A quarter of a million pounds should get me something decent, even in London, shouldn’t it?’
‘Oh, it will. But what about sharing? It’s a way of meeting people.’
‘Paula suggested that too, but I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.’
‘Do that. It’s a dangerous city, I won’t be too happy thinking about you there alone. Auntie Hattie certainly won’t.’
Corrie rolled her eyes. ‘Now I don’t want you two sitting here worrying about me. I’ll call you regularly, let you know what’s happening. And you can always come to visit, you know.’
‘We did think you might consider taking a holiday,’ Ted said. ‘Recharge yourself before you set off to seek your fortune.’
‘I already have one,’ Corrie laughed. ‘And besides, I just want to get on with things now.’
Corrie spent the next two weeks in torment. Now she had made the decision to leave, Amberside had suddenly become s
o dear to her that she really didn’t think she could tear herself away. She felt safe and secure there; she knew everyone and everyone knew her. Having ambitions to go out into the big wide world was one thing, she realized, but fulfilling them was quite another. And as the day of her departure grew closer she became so nervous at the prospect of what lay ahead that had it not been for the fact that she had promised Paula the cottage she might just have called the whole thing off. On the other hand she couldn’t bear to think of staying.
Though she said nothing of her feelings to anyone Paula sensed them, which was why, at the last minute she decided to go to London with Corrie for a few days to lend moral support. She had to take the baby as well of course, but since Ted had arranged for Corrie to stay in his company’s Regent’s Park flat, Dave insisted he didn’t mind, and even offered to drive them down himself.
The first few days in London were all rather bewildering. Dave stayed only for Saturday night, and not until he went to bed did he stop voicing his awe and appreciation of the luxury flat with its plush grey carpets, formal leather furniture and two bathrooms. Corrie and Paula were more impressed by the view over Regent’s Park, and the dishwasher which neither of them could work.
Now Dave had gone, and left to their own devices, neither Corrie nor Paula knew quite what to do, or where to go.
They decided to set about exploring the Underground first. Though Corrie had visited London before, as a teenager, she soon realized that this was not the town that had lived all these years in her memory. What had happened, she wondered, to all the bright lights? Where was the vibrancy, the exhilaration that had seemed to charge every particle of air the last time she was here? And how on earth would she ever get to know anyone, when just about every face she saw was so blank, so unreceptive, and everyone was in such a hurry to get somewhere? The whoop and wail of police sirens, coupled with the hostile blasting of car horns seemed unsettlingly constant, and the overcrowded streets, clustered, dour-looking buildings and the unrelenting greyness were almost as menacing as the daily headlines of violent crime.