A Midwinter Promise

by Lulu Taylor

  ‘Maybe it’s the river.’

  ‘Greta would go mad with all these fascinating aromas. My dog,’ she added, seeing Lala’s bafflement. ‘I’ve left her with a friend, and I’m rather missing her.’

  ‘A dog?’ Lala raised her eyebrows. ‘I suppose you need the company, with David away so much. Where is he at the moment?’

  ‘Abroad for a fortnight. One of his trips. He left a week ago.’

  ‘So you thought you’d come and see me? That’s lovely. I’ve arranged to take a day or two off, and we’ll do sightseeing. I need an excuse to see some art and pictures.’

  ‘That would be fantastic. I’m definitely your partner in crime. But I do need to talk to you about Tawray.’ Julia pulled a letter out of her handbag and smoothed it down on the table in front of them, putting the ashtray on it to act as a paperweight. ‘I got this. From Quentin’s lawyers.’

  ‘Oh?’ Lala squinted in the sun. ‘What does he say? My reading glasses are in the office.’

  ‘Only that he’s terribly sorry but he wants to buy a house in Cambridge, and he’ll need the value of his share of Tawray. Or he’ll force a sale of the whole place.’

  Lala turned to her, frowning. ‘Can he do that?’

  ‘The trustees seem to think it’s a possibility.’

  Lala was quiet for a moment, taking a thoughtful drag on her cigarette. ‘I see. And I think you don’t want to sell.’

  ‘No. I don’t. I really, really don’t.’ Julia leaned eagerly towards her sister. ‘I’ve felt alive again since I’ve been going back there. I want to make it my home, where David and I can live properly once he’s finished his time at court.’

  Lala said nothing for a while and then, ‘I know it means a lot to you.’

  ‘It means everything.’

  ‘But Julia . . . it’s so big, so costly to maintain. I would be happy to be rid of it, if I’m honest. I’ve never felt the same about it as you do. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if I never went back there. I would rather it’s sold, if I’m brutal about it.’

  ‘No, Lala! I can make it work. I’ve got so many ideas and plans. I’ll tell you all about them, and you’ll see.’

  ‘You could be happy somewhere else. Somewhere smaller.’

  ‘No!’ Julia’s voice came out so strongly even she was surprised. ‘I mean it, Lala – I can’t be happy anywhere else. It’s my lifeblood. Don’t take it away from me, please.’

  ‘All right,’ Lala said slowly. ‘I can see you mean that. Then what’s the plan?’

  Julia paced up and down the same length of blue carpet in their small Kensington sitting room, waiting anxiously for David to return from his trip. When he arrived at last, a black cab pulling up outside and David climbing out with his suitcase, she was outside, jumping into his arms almost before the taxi had pulled away.

  ‘I’m so happy you’re back! I’ve missed you so much!’

  He laughed and kissed her strongly. ‘Good. I’ve missed you too. But shall we go inside before we get carried away and shock the neighbours?’

  Inside they abandoned his luggage in the hall and ran upstairs, eager and laughing, kissing and pulling each other’s clothes off as they went. Their reunion was swift and blissfully enjoyable.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, pulling her close. ‘I’ve been longing for you for days.’

  ‘Me too.’ She snuggled into his embrace and revelled in his nearness. ‘How was the trip?’

  ‘Difficult. Very difficult.’ He made a pained face.

  ‘Are relations chilly?’

  David was silent.

  ‘You might as well tell me,’ Julia said. ‘The papers are full of it. They were all over the fact that there were separate sleeping arrangements on the tour you went on, the German one.’

  ‘Do you read that stuff?’

  She said nothing, not wanting to tell him that she read everything she could find, poring over tabloid news stories as well as glossy magazines and high-society journals.

  He sighed. ‘You’re right. I know everybody’s talking about it. The gossip vultures are circling.’

  ‘They say that they’re practically living separate lives, and she’s got a string of other men.’

  ‘I know what they say.’ David’s expression hardened just a little. ‘They don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t like this gossip, Julia, I really don’t. If you knew what it’s like up there . . . Not just chilly. It’s an ice storm. And it would make your heart bleed to see it.’

  ‘Whose fault is it? Hers or his? I bet it’s his.’ She thought of the glimpse she had seen of the blonde hair, the blue eyes, strong and yet somehow fearful at the same time. What was there to be afraid of? A small part of her wanted to get David to say something about the owner, so she could gauge the strength of his feelings about her. Would he leap in to defend her, be her champion? That would surely be telling.

  ‘Oh darling, that’s the worst of it. Fault? It’s both and neither. The dreadfulness of it is what an amazing partnership they make, how powerful they are together. But it won’t work. I’ve never seen two people make each other so miserable.’

  Relieved at his even-handedness, Julia ran her finger over the smooth, warm skin of his arm. We’re so lucky that it’s not like that for us. ‘The poor children.’

  ‘The children are both loved, that’s the main thing. But even though they’re so young, they must have a sense of what’s going on. We all do. I can’t help feeling there’s a crisis in the offing, and we’re wasting all our chances to avoid it.’

  ‘So you’re not on her side?’ Julia asked.

  ‘I want the best for her, but I’m the first to say that she’s no angel.’ He kissed her head and she felt a burst of relief. ‘But I don’t want to talk about that. How have you been without me? Have you been lonely?’

  ‘A bit.’

  ‘Didn’t you see Sally?’

  ‘Oh, yes, once or twice.’

  ‘And you went to Paris to see Lala. How was it?’

  ‘Wonderful. A tonic.’

  ‘Really?’ A smile broke over his face. ‘I’m so pleased you had a good time. How is she?’

  ‘Very well. Blooming. Busy and creative and successful, just as you’d imagine.’ Julia hesitated. She hadn’t intended to bring up the subject so soon, but as they were in the lovely post-reunion haze, perhaps now was the best time after all. ‘There’s a bit of an issue with Tawray, and I talked it over with her.’

  ‘An issue? You haven’t said anything . . .’ David turned to her, his dark blue eyes enquiring.

  ‘No.’ He was right. During their regular phone calls, she’d not brought it up, wanting to sound Lala out before she took it any further. ‘I wanted to be sure I knew the facts. The thing is, Quentin wants me and Lala to buy out his share right away so he can get the cash. But Lala doesn’t want Tawray either. So . . .’ She hesitated again. It had all seemed perfectly clear and right when she’d made the decision in Paris but now that she had to say it out loud to David, it didn’t seem so obvious.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well . . . I said I would buy them both out.’

  He blinked at her, evidently thinking it through. ‘Buy them out? How can you do that? Do you want to raise a mortgage on it or something?’

  She shook her head. ‘I thought . . . I’d sell this place and use the money to buy them out. It should be just about enough, and I can borrow the rest.’

  David pulled away so that he could see her properly. ‘Then where would we live?’

  ‘Tawray.’

  He sighed impatiently. ‘We can’t, Julia, you know that! My work is here.’

  ‘We can rent something small where you can stay when you’re working.’

  He took this in, and then said slowly, ‘You mean live apart?’

  ‘Only some of the time. But it’s the only way.’ She clutched at his arm, digging her fingers into the flesh. ‘I’ve got to go back there, David, I mean it. I won’t make it here in London.’ Sh
e couldn’t tell him about Mark, about the siren song of oblivion he poured into her ears, and the temptation to give up all that was good in her life and surrender herself to it. Already there was a stash of empty wine bottles in the bin, and a plastic bag full of cigarette butts and cloudy soft ash tucked in there too. Already she’d thought about going to Mark’s house – not to be unfaithful to David but to find that welcoming numbness that was always on offer there. She needed to get away from that as soon as possible, or she knew that one day soon, it would all start again.

  David looked sad. ‘I can’t bear the thought of us being apart. I love you. I want you here with me.’

  She pulled him close and pressed her face into the warmth of his neck. ‘I love you too. Please, darling, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. We can make it work, it’s only another year or two and you’ll be retiring from the palace in any case. I just feel the need to be at home, at Tawray.’

  A picture of her home floated into her mind: the familiar rooms, the beautiful gardens, the sea. She needed it like she needed her own blood.

  He said nothing for an age, and she waited, feeling the thud of his heartbeat against her own chest. At last he spoke.

  ‘All right, Julia. We can talk about it. But I have my own price – it’s only fair you know that.’

  She nodded. She had thought as much.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Present day

  It was a little too early for Christmas parties, but there seemed to be a celebration going on in the far corner of the restaurant.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t come somewhere quieter,’ Johnnie said apologetically across the white linen tablecloth loaded with china and glass.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Netta said, pushing her fish around her plate and eating a tiny morsel when she finally speared a bit on the end of her fork.

  ‘Not exactly conducive to conversation, though,’ Johnnie said with a smile. She smiled back, her eyes glittering in the candlelight. She looked wonderful, he thought, in a drapey black silk top, silver necklaces of different lengths, and with glittering dark eyeshadow and red lipstick. He’d always been attracted by her easy elegance and her muted style. Showy women didn’t really interest him, he preferred Netta’s quiet self-possession, her maturity. What always astonished him was that she had fallen in love with him; he’d hardly been able to believe his luck. His sense of disappointing her was one of the worst aspects of their current situation but he didn’t seem to be able to change himself enough to satisfy her. The words she’d said to him in the kitchen that day – ‘I don’t know if I can make you happy’ – had resonated in his mind and he felt it was urgently important that he make sure she knew how happy he was, and how lucky he felt to have her. So he’d booked this dinner in an expensive London restaurant and wanted to tell her his plan.

  Netta took a sip of her wine. ‘They’re not too loud. I’m not really bothered.’

  He eyed her cautiously. She seemed perfectly calm and happy but he knew this mood – it often concealed something. Real happiness in Netta meant a liveliness, an eagerness to talk and listen, an enthusiasm for everything. When she became removed and closed off, it meant she was making distance between them. You’re not my friend, she was saying. I’m angry with you and I’m going to take away the things you like about me, and we’ll see if you notice.

  ‘I spoke to Alex today,’ he said conversationally.

  Immediately she softened. ‘Oh right. How is your father? Any change from yesterday?’

  Johnnie shook his head. ‘No. No change. He hasn’t had any further strokes, but he’s not responding to much. Sally is in the middle of arranging to get him home.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ Netta looked doubtful. ‘Isn’t hospital the best place for him?’

  ‘Sally wants him home, and Alex thinks it’s probably for the best as well.’ He held up his wine glass and watched the red liquid glow in the candlelight as he tipped it back and forth. ‘She said she thinks it’s an indication of what they think the outlook is.’

  ‘Oh Johnnie. I’m sorry. This is awful for you. And I’m so fond of your father.’ She looked sincerely sad. Johnnie knew she had always liked Pa, and they’d got on well. Sally was always lovely to Netta, as though extending her endless sympathy for the misfortune of being married to Johnnie. She also respected Netta’s style and obvious intelligence, and often gave subtle hints that she thought Netta could have done a bit better in her marriage. ‘Will you go back?’

  ‘Well . . . I had a thought about that actually. You said you had some holiday owing that you have to take before the end of the year.’

  ‘Yes. I was going to take that when the boys break up for Christmas.’ She looked wary. Johnnie coming up with plans always seemed to make her nervous. ‘You know how absurdly early their holidays begin.’

  ‘Sure. So here’s what I’m thinking. Once I explained that Pa isn’t going to make it, Sanwa said I can take advantage of some compassionate leave. A month or two months.’

  ‘Right.’ Netta slowly ate a piece of her fish, waiting for more.

  ‘So I thought . . . let’s go down to Cornwall for the whole month, as soon as the boys break up, or maybe even before, and take some time to be a family all together.’ He smiled at her, hoping his enthusiasm for the idea would be catching. It had come to him in a flash and he’d thought it was a brilliant plan for reuniting them, giving them some quality time together and taking off the daily pressures of school and work for longer than just the standard holiday break. They needed it, he was sure.

  ‘Where would we stay? With Alex?’

  She hasn’t dismissed it at once. That’s good. ‘No, I think that would be tough on her and anyway, we need our space. I spoke to an old school friend who has a house down there. He’s not using it right now and wouldn’t mind renting it out to us. It’s really close to Alex, not far from Pa and Sally’s. I think it would be great.’

  He watched Netta’s reaction carefully, hoping she wasn’t annoyed. She looked thoughtful, taking her time as she pondered what he’d said. After a few minutes, she looked up at him. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I can see that might work. I don’t want the boys to miss school, though.’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘Maybe it would do us all good to get away for a bit. And I appreciate that you want to be close to your father. So if you want to, I think we could make it work.’

  Johnnie knew that she was, without mentioning it, giving up her original plan to see her own parents over the holidays, and he appreciated it. ‘Thank you. I’ll tell Robert we’ll take the house and we can start to make the arrangements—’

  Netta held up her hand. ‘But.’

  ‘Yes?’ A flutter of nerves went through his stomach.

  ‘I think it’s only fair to tell you that I saw a solicitor today.’

  The flutter turned into a full-scale wrench, a sickening somersault, and his fingertips prickled. ‘What?’

  She sighed. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About our future. About our happiness.’

  He felt sick, his head suddenly swimming as though he’d been punched. A second ago, they’d been unified in their plans for a family Christmas, and now this? ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I told you I don’t know if I can make you happy.’

  ‘You can,’ he said. ‘Why have you seen a solicitor?’

  ‘I’m considering everything, that’s all. And maybe this holiday will be a good time for us to talk about it.’

  Oh God. He’d thought she’d agreed because she liked the idea of some time together as a family. But actually, she wanted to talk about divorce.

  She saw the look on his face and her expression became sympathetic. ‘I know it’s a shock, but I haven’t made any decisions. We just need to talk about it, that’s all. Things can’t go on as they are.’

  Can’t they? That was precisely what he’d thought would happen: muddling through, going on.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. He needed to move care
fully, think hard and not just blunder in and ruin it all. So he made an effort to keep calm. ‘We’ll talk. All I ask is that you keep an open mind.’

  ‘Yes.’ She lifted her own wine glass. ‘That’s fair. We both keep an open mind.’

  She sipped the dark red liquid, her brown eyes watching him over the rim of the glass.

  Alex drove up to the house, where a private ambulance crew was busy unloading the equipment onto the driveway. Other people were taking it into David and Sally’s house, and Sally was hovering anxiously in the open doorway, directing operations.

  ‘Into the room at the back, please, and stay on the plastic matting!’ she called, as two men went past her carrying the upper part of a hospital bed. She looked older than usual, in a blue kilt and a pink cardigan over a frilly-necked blouse, her hair tied back instead of frosted into place with hairspray, but she still had big pearl clip-on earrings and shoes with bows on the front.

  Classic Sally. Still dressing in the fashion of her youth.

  ‘David’s arriving soon,’ Sally said, excited, as Alex came to greet her. ‘I’m so glad to have him home.’

  Alex nodded and let Sally lead her down the hall to where their study had been made into a temporary bedroom. Sally had evidently taken care over it: it was bright, clean and made cheerful with flowers, a television and radio – though Alex doubted her father would need them much – and cosy armchairs. The strange note was the large hospital bed with its moveable mattress set in a sitting position, and the drip stand and machinery nearby.

  ‘A nurse is coming to stay,’ Sally explained, as Alex looked at the kit. ‘She’ll be able to manage all of that. David’s fed by a drip, and she’ll empty the bags, and keep him clean.’ She clasped her hands together like a giddy girl. ‘I’m so happy to have him back. It’s been awful without him.’

  Alex patted her arm. ‘I know.’

  She saw, quite suddenly, Sally in relation to David, and not to herself. They had been married for nearly twenty-one years – a second marriage longer than many first – and they had barely been apart in all that time. Sally had stuck to David constantly, putting his welfare at the very heart of her existence in a way that had seemed to Alex hopelessly old-fashioned. Sally made no secret of the way she devoted herself to David, looking after him in what was sometimes an almost maternal fashion. Although she certainly expected plenty in return, she nevertheless was firmly of the opinion that her version of traditional roles was the right one. It was her wifely duty to gaze in moist-eyed adoration when her husband spoke, to oversee all his domestic needs, keep his house clean and his stomach full, and to appear perfectly groomed at all times. While she could chivvy him, she also coddled him – babied him, Alex thought – and treated him like her own personal hero in a way that Alex and Johnnie had laughed at privately, making sick faces and pretending to vomit when she said something particularly nauseating. To Alex, it also felt insincere, somehow, as if Sally were acting her devotion instead of feeling it. But Pa hadn’t seemed to mind. In fact, he had let Sally do everything she wanted for him, and he became her creature, eating her favourite foods, sharing her hobbies and interests, taking up her friends, dressing in the style she preferred. Alex supposed that was all part of becoming a couple, but it hurt. It seemed as though the real Pa was being lost inside this new, docile one who was happy to surrender his old vibrant self and become Sally’s creation; and that Pa put Sally first, before his relationships with his children.