Wives & Mothers

by Jeanne Whitmee

  *

  Paul knew the city of Norwich well and when he suggested to Elaine that they might spend a Saturday there she had agreed. He’d taken her to Cobb Hill with its quaint cobbled streets and medieval houses and shops. They’d walked round the beautiful cathedral and had lunch in a nearby restaurant. Afterwards they had taken a leisurely stroll round the shops, pausing outside a jeweller’s window.

  ‘Do you like jewellery?’ he asked suddenly.

  Elaine laughed. ‘Only the kind I could never afford to buy.’

  ‘How about that ring?’ He pointed to one with three diamonds.

  ‘It’s beautiful.

  ‘Would you wear it for me?’

  Startled, she turned to look at him. ‘For you?’

  He took her hand. ‘Elaine, I want to talk to you. Let’s go back to the car.’

  The Rover was parked in the cathedral close. As Elaine settled herself in the passenger seat her heart was beating fast, half with apprehension, half with hope, Paul turned to her at once.

  ‘I know we haven’t been going out together all that long, Elaine. And I know I’m a few years older than you. But I do think an awful lot of you and I’d — I’d like you to become my wife.’

  She was silent. It was the moment every girl dreamed and fantasised over. The proposal. She had never visualised hers like this. ‘I see,’ she said.

  ‘Well, how do you feel about it?’ He was looking at her hopefully. ‘You might think this is a bit sudden, but you see, Elaine, I’ve been tipped the wink that the headship at St Jasper’s is coming up again shortly. I’d stand a pretty good chance of getting it as a married — even an engaged — man. If you fancy the idea we could go back now and get that ring.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Thank you, Paul. I’d like that.’

  For a moment he stared at her unbelievingly. He hadn’t really believed his mother when she said Elaine would jump at the chance of marrying him. It was uncanny how often she was right.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘Come on then, let’s go.’

  Elaine opened the door and got out of the car. She felt empty and totally devoid of feeling. There had been no passionate declaration of love — no kisses. Not that she would have welcomed them. She had welcomed Paul’s proposal though. In fact it had come like an answer to her prayers. Her second period was ten days overdue now, and although she hadn’t seen the doctor she knew instinctively that she was pregnant.

  *

  They stood side by side on the pavement outside the register office, the wind catching at the brim of Elaine’s hat. It was all over except for the photographs. Paul, tall and upright in a dark suit at her side, was her husband. She was Mrs Kingston. Mrs Elaine Kingston. The words drummed meaninglessly inside her head.

  ‘Smile please.’ The photographer snapped them once more and at last they were free to get into the car and drive to Langmere Lodge for the reception.

  In the car Paul smiled at her. ‘Happy?’

  She smiled back. ‘Of course.’

  It had been easy to persuade everyone that a quick marriage was best. For one thing Alison, her best friend, would be gone by the end of July. Then there was Paul’s application for the headship. If he was already married when he applied it would surely make all the difference. No one could argue with that. Both Grace and Mrs Kingston were happy — at least over the date. After that the disagreements began. Mary wanted to hold the reception at Langmere Lodge — Grace would have preferred a hotel. Mary would have liked a church wedding, whilst Grace was dead against it.

  ‘Are you an atheist?’ Mary had asked her suspiciously.

  ‘Not exactly. I just think the church is filled with hypocrisy,’ Grace told her bluntly. ‘And I should know. My own father was a Methodist minister.’

  Mary was silenced by this. There was also the fact that the girl’s parents were estranged. She would have no father to give her away. That might take some explaining. Maybe it would be better all round to make it a quiet register office affair. But having given in over that, Mary felt justified in pressing her wish to hold the reception at home.

  Oddly enough, the only person to express misgivings had been Morgan. Finding himself alone with Elaine one evening he’d asked: ‘You do really want to marry Paul, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course.’ Elaine had coloured hotly.

  ‘It isn’t just a rebound thing after Patrick?’ He looked at her with some concern. ‘It isn’t too late to back out, you know. Marriage is an awfully big step and you’re still very young.’

  ‘It’s all right, Morgan. I’m quite sure.’ She looked away quickly from his questioning, too perceptive eyes. Not too late, he’d said. But it was too late. Much too late.

  Grace had insisted on taking Elaine up to London to choose her wedding outfit straight from the fashion house. She had gone along with it and together they had chosen a softly pleated dress in palest pink with a matching picture hat. But it didn’t end there. There was the fuss over flowers, the wrangling about menus, the invitations — who to invite and who to leave out — till she thought her head would burst. The four weeks between engagement and wedding seemed interminable. All she could think of was the date. By the time she was married she would be ten weeks pregnant. So far no one knew. Even her mother hadn’t guessed. She’d been lucky. There had been no physical sickness in the mornings and she had coped with the feelings of nausea, hiding her revulsion for certain foods and keeping out of the way at breakfast times. Grace was always too rushed to notice at that time of the morning anyway. The thought of telling Paul worried her. She didn’t want to deceive him. At some stage he would have to know. She dreaded that.

  Somehow she got through the reception. She and Paul went up to the room that was to be theirs and changed. In a shower of confetti they drove away and two hours later were in their hotel room in London where they were to spend a brief honeymoon. As she showered in the adjoining bathroom Elaine closed her eyes and prayed: ‘Please let me learn to love him — please let him understand about the baby. Oh please let it all work out.’

  Much later as they lay stiffly side by side in the double bed, Paul apologised for the third time.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what went wrong. Maybe we’re tired — all the fuss.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps that’s it.’ Elained swallowed hard at the lump in her throat.

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be better next time.’

  ‘Of course. It doesn’t matter.’ But as she turned over and stared into the darkness, all she could think of was that they were no more than a mile away from the flat she and Patrick had occupied just a few weeks ago, sharing the kind of love she would never know again. Her heart felt as though it would burst with longing and it took a gigantic effort not to cry out with the pain of it. She closed her eyes tightly and clamped her teeth so tightly over her lower lip that she tasted blood mingled with her tears.

  ‘Oh God, what have I done?’ she whispered.

  *

  ‘I thought I was being clever, going to the States, but you went one better — as usual.’ They were in their favourite coffee bar one afternoon after college, the week after the wedding.

  ‘The wedding was an absolute knockout, wasn’t it? You looked fabulous of course and so did your mum, but I thought I’d die of laughing at your ma-in-law’s hat. It looked like a giant blob of whipped cream. And that funny old aunt — Edna, is it? She was wearing some sort of tapestry bucket on her head.’ Alison leaned forward. ‘You haven’t told me about the honeymoon yet. Was it blissful?’

  Elaine forced a smile. ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Is he a marvellous lover.’

  ‘Brilliant.’

  Alison sighed. ‘You are lucky. I bet I never meet anyone half passable in bed and here you are on your second.’

  Elaine flushed, looking round. ‘I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. You never know who might be listening.’

  Alison laughed. ‘Come off it, you old square. This is 1968. No one’
s still a virgin when they marry nowadays. I hope I’m not. I’d consider myself a dismal failure if I was.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I suppose I’d better be getting home. Mum will have tea on the table.’

  Suddenly the thought of Alison going home to the comfort of her mother’s kitchen brought a lump to Elaine’s throat. In the three weeks since she and Paul had been married they’d been living with his mother at Langmere Lodge. It had been sheer hell. Mary Kingston watched her every move and Elaine was sure she suspected something. She was always asking her if she felt all right, pressing plates of greasy food or cream cakes on her and remarking that she looked peaky. When she wasn’t prying she was picking her up on every single thing she did, from laying the table to washing up. Mary criticised her clothes in an oblique, bitchy way and Elaine was pretty sure she told tales to Paul when he came home. The moment he came through the front door his mother would call out from the room at the front where she sat watching for him, and he would be closetted with her for half an hour or more, hearing, no doubt, all about her new daughter-in-law’s shortcomings. Being in the same house as his mother inhibited Paul in the bedroom too. Although they had been married almost a month their marriage had barely been consummated. Elaine’s constant worry was what his reaction would be when she dropped the bombshell about her pregnancy.

  ‘Hey — are you all right?’ Alison was peering at her.

  ‘What?’ Elaine pulled herself out of her reverie. ‘Oh yes, I’m...’ To her horror tears filled her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks.

  ‘Ellie!’ Alison’s face was filled with concern. ‘Ellie, what’s the matter?’

  Elaine wanted to howl like a baby. She wanted to lay her head on Alison’s shoulder and pour out all her troubles. Instead she swallowed hard and gathered up her things. ‘I’m fine. Take no notice of me. I was just thinking that you’ll be gone soon. I seem to be losing all my friends. I’ll miss you.’

  ‘Oh, is that all, you silly old thing?’ Alison patted her arm affectionately. ‘The year’ll go as quick as a flash, just you wait and see. Before you know it I’ll be home again.’

  And what will I be doing a year from now? Elaine asked herself despairingly. What will have become of me?

  *

  ‘Paul, close the door. There’s something I want to say to you.’

  He did as she asked, his face puzzled. ‘Can’t it wait? Mother says dinner is...’

  ‘No. It can’t wait. I want a place of our own to live.’

  He looked startled. ‘But there’s plenty of room here. It seems a shame

  ‘I can’t live in the same house with your mother any longer.’

  ‘But you’re at college all day. I thought it would be nice for you not to have to bother with housekeeping. And, anyway, where would we go?’

  ‘I don’t care — just as long as it’s somewhere where we can be on our own.’

  Paul looked slightly mollified. ‘Well, of course it would be nice, darling. But I really don’t know how...’

  ‘There’s another reason.’ Her heart began to thump. She’d been rehearsing this all afternoon and she was determined not to weaken, but now that the moment had come her knees were trembling. Her nervousness made her sound slightly shrill as she said: ‘There’s something I have to tell you, Paul.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ll have to give up college at the end of this term. I’m going to have a baby.’

  He stared at her, too stunned to speak for a moment. A baby? He wouldn’t really have thought it possible and yet... ‘Elaine! Darling, are you sure?’

  ‘The doctor seems to be. And so you see we shall need a place of our own.’ She had meant — really meant — to tell him the truth. But the look of astonished delight on his face had taken her by surprise. The words seemed to stick in her throat and she watched as he groped for a chair and lowered himself into it.

  It was amazing news. And of course it changed everything. Truth to tell, he felt his mother was beginning to feel the strain too. She wasn’t used to sharing her home. It hadn’t been easy for him either, trying to be loyal to two women at once. Maybe his mother would be cheered by the news that she was about to become a grandmother. At least it would give them a good excuse to move out.

  ‘Wait till Mother hears about this,’ he said.

  ‘Paul, if you don’t mind I’d rather we kept it to ourselves for the time being,’ she said.

  Much to Mary Kingston’s displeasure, they found a small house to rent quite close to St Jasper’s. At the end of the term Paul was interviewed for the post of headmaster. Two weeks later he heard that he had been appointed.

  It was on Christmas Eve when they were all having dinner at Langmere Lodge that Elaine went into labour. She’d had niggling pains all day but by seven o’clock she could keep them to herself no longer.

  Grace was worried. ‘Paul, you must get her to hospital at once, dear. The baby mustn’t be born yet. It isn’t time.’

  But Mary, watching with narrowed eyes from the other side of the table, said nothing. She wasn’t so sure that the baby was premature. She remembered the nausea Elaine had tried to hide when she first moved in, just two days after the wedding. She’d insisted once or twice on giving her a fried breakfast and watched with satisfaction as the girl had left the table, ashen-faced. There’d been other little signs too. The way she’d slyly engineered the house move before her pregnancy began to show. And the fact that they’d kept it secret for so long. As for Paul being responsible — it was about as likely as Edna winning the Miss World title. She’d mulled all these things over to herself during the past months, but after long consideration she’d decided to bide her time and say nothing. She’d achieved her ambition to get her son married and it had had the desired effect and gained him the headship. One couldn’t have everything, she supposed. Besides, there might come a time when what she knew would provide her with useful ammunition. One never knew.

  Rising from the table, her face a mask of assumed concern, she said: ‘Grace is right. You must take good care of her. Drive very carefully.’

  *

  For two days Elaine drifted in and out of pain, hardly knowing whether it was day or night. Doctors and midwives appeared periodically to examine her. People came and looked at her; spoke her name: Paul, her mother, once Mary Kingston, or so she thought. Then the pain became even worse. She dreamed she was in a circus ring, being torn apart by lions. They had sharp teeth and claws but their faces were human. One of them looked like her mother-in-law; another had a blood red mouth like Ann-Marie Labeque. She heard her own cries as though from a long way off. She knew that she called for her father, and once or twice she thought she called out for Patrick but afterwards she couldn’t be sure. All she knew for certain was that she was going to die.

  At last, after what seemed weeks of torture, she was loaded on to a trolley and rushed along a corridor. There was a dizzying view of the ceiling until they arrived at a small room where a masked doctor was waiting. He placed something over her face that finally — mercifully — took away the pain and put out the light.

  When she came round she could hear a baby’s cry. Someone asked: ‘Do you hear that, Mrs Kingston? Can you hear your daughter?’ A nurse put a closely wrapped bundle into her arms and she looked down in numb astonishment at a tiny face with enormous dark blue eyes and a fuzzy halo of blonde hair. Sunlight flooded the room and she realised that the nightmare lions and the pain had gone at last, to be replaced by this tiny perfect being and a wonderful feeling of peace. She hadn’t died after all. It was like a miracle.

  ‘Is she all right?’ she asked, examining one of the minute hands.

  The nurse smiled. ‘She’s rather small. Only five and a half pounds, and she was delivered by forceps which is why she has those little marks on her head. But apart from that she’s a fine, healthy baby. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? What will you call her?’

  Elaine looked down wonderingly at the little face of her child — hers and Pat
rick’s.

  ‘Patricia,’ she said firmly, hugging her daughter close. ‘She’s going to be called Patricia.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  1975

  Anyone observing the two women having tea together at the corner table of the Old Cottage Tea Room would have been forgiven for taking them for sisters. The elder of the two looked much younger than her forty-three years; delicately built and still slender, she wore an elegant classic grey suit. Her dark hair, now attractively streaked with silver, was dressed in a sleek French pleat. The younger woman was taller and looked more mature than twenty-five. Her hair, cut short and softly curling, was a lighter shade of brown, and she wore a stylish jacket in the fashionable long length over a tweed skirt. ‘More tea?’ Grace asked, her hand on the teapot.

  Elaine looked at her watch. ‘I think I’ve just got time. I mustn’t be late at Paul’s mother’s. You know what she’s like.’

  ‘What does she want to see you about?’ Grace asked, pouring the tea.

  Elaine sighed. ‘I don’t know, but you can bet it won’t be to my advantage.’ She drank her tea quickly and gathered up her bag and gloves. ‘I’ll have to go. I have to pick Tricia up from school first and take her for a music lesson.’