The Prodigal Wife

by Marcia Willett

  ‘It’s different, though, isn’t it? You’re angry with Cordelia because she made a mistake and broke up your family. But, actually, it was your father who walked away from it, wasn’t it? How would you feel if he suddenly wanted to come back into your life now?’

  Henrietta tried to imagine it. Just at this minute, all she could really think about was Jo; holding his arm and feeling him close.

  ‘It would depend how he was,’ she said at last. ‘I can’t imagine how he could talk away all that rejection. I can imagine him being angry with Mum and wanting to hurt her, but to stop all communication with me ten years later…’ She shook her head. ‘How do you get over that?’

  They walked for a while in silence. The dogs were far ahead but Tacker still skittered at the track’s edge. Bulky black clouds, gold-edged, crowded the sun and, through the gaps in the hills, they could see far across the sunlit spaces of Somerset towards the coast; the island of Steep Holm rose from the silver shimmer of the sea like a hump-backed whale dozing in the misty sunshine.

  ‘Perhaps the first thing we have to do is to convince ourselves that it’s their problem, not ours,’ suggested Jolyon thoughtfully. ‘We blame ourselves, don’t we? We tell ourselves that because they couldn’t love us there must be something wrong with us? Even when we try to persuade ourselves that there might be something wrong with them we can’t quite believe it, can we? I tell myself that because my mother loved Adam and Ed it must be my fault that she didn’t love me. It makes me feel inadequate. Fliss tried to explain it years ago when she gave me the ginger jar. She said that there were lots of people who loved and valued me and that it was destructive to dwell on the one person who didn’t. She tried to show me how it might be my mother’s problem, and I believed I’d come to terms with it. That’s what’s really upset me: the fact that I feel that I’ve made no progress at all.’

  ‘I think it’s one thing coming to terms with it when the person concerned isn’t part of your life, and quite another when you’re asked to welcome them back with open arms and pretend it never happened. That’s a different adjustment, isn’t it? You’ll need time. I’m beginning to think I’ve been a bit hard on Mum. I resented her for causing the break-up in the first place, but I think I’ve blamed her for Dad walking away simply because she was there. I’ve projected my anger and hurt on to her instead of him.’

  ‘Why did he wait so long?’ asked Jolyon. ‘I mean, ten years later seems a bit odd.’

  ‘It was odd,’ she agreed. ‘My mum and Angus Radcliff were in love when they were young but he didn’t want to commit and went to Australia for a two-year exchange with the Australian Navy. Mum married my father and then five years later she and Angus met up again when he and Dad were based in Dolphin. Mum and Angus had a weak moment and Dad found out and he left. He wrote to me when I was about fifteen and told me all the details. Apparently, Mum had a telephone in her study and Angus phoned her the day after their indiscretion. Dad had been suspicious that they might be getting friendly again and he picked up the extension and listened in. Mum was telling Angus that they must never ever do it again and that she wouldn’t leave me and Dad. Stuff like that.’

  ‘I suppose he just couldn’t hack the fact that she’d been unfaithful. Is that why he left?’

  Henrietta shrugged. ‘Possibly. The odd thing was that he waited nearly a year before he confronted her. By then Angus was married.’

  ‘A year?’ Jolyon was shocked.

  ‘I know. He wanted to make certain that Angus and Mum couldn’t marry, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s…that’s really chilling, isn’t it? And she didn’t know he knew, all that time?’

  ‘No. Mum said he felt things very deeply. He was very intense.’

  ‘And calculating, by the sound of it. You mean he waited a year before he confronted her and then another ten years before he told you why and that he was going out of your life for good?’

  ‘He said he’d met someone in Australia and was starting a completely new life.’

  Jolyon grimaced. ‘He sounds a bit of a cold fish, to be honest, doesn’t he?’

  Henrietta nodded; her face serious. She clutched his arm more tightly. ‘I don’t think I’d want him back in my life. Not now. To tell you the truth, I’m beginning to feel guilty that I’ve been a bit of a cow with Mum.’

  He returned the pressure of her arm. ‘I can understand, though. Philip Larkin had the right of it, didn’t he? I’m probably overreacting too. Perhaps I need to lay the ghosts properly. I just don’t know how.’

  They stood together listening to the whistle of the steam engine echoing over the hills from Stogumber.

  ‘Angus Radcliff’s moved down to Dartmouth. His wife’s died and he’s on his own again,’ Henrietta said. The sun disappeared behind the great banks of cloud and she shivered a little. ‘Mum went to his house-warming party last week.’

  Jo looked down at her. ‘Is that a problem?’

  She made a little face. ‘I don’t know. I’m trying to decide how I feel about it.’

  ‘Does it matter after all this time?’

  ‘I don’t want it to matter,’ she explained, almost crossly, ‘but it’s just a bit difficult imagining how I might react if they get together again and I have to meet him. It’s a bit like you and Maria, in a way. He’s coming back into my life and I have to work out how not to feel resentful about him.’

  ‘It’s odd, isn’t it?’ said Jolyon thoughtfully. ‘Your mum and mine and Fliss. Falling in love with one man and then marrying another.’

  ‘It’s scary,’ answered Henrietta. ‘I mean, how do you know? Really know?’

  They stared at one another, her hand slid into his and his grip tightened. Heavy drops of rain began to fall, splashing into the puddles, plopping in the soft red earth, and they started to run back along the track with Tacker at their heels, shouting to Pan and Juno who came racing out of the bracken. They opened the hatchback so that the dogs could jump in, lifted Tacker in, and then fell, panting and out of breath, into the car, laughing at each other, wiping the rain from their cheeks. Henrietta pulled off her hat and shook her head, and her wild tortoiseshell hair flew about her cold face. Jo reached out and seized her by the shoulders, smiling at her.

  ‘Will you marry me?’ he asked – and, to his surprise, he felt quite free of fear and doubt and was able to wait with joyful certainty for her reply.

  She beamed at him. ‘Yes, please,’ she said, and kissed him.

  Lizzie kicked off her boots, gave Pooter and Perks a biscuit each and went into the kitchen. Prue was stirring soup.

  ‘Is Fliss back from the station?’ asked Lizzie. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘Yes, she’s back. Maria’s train was on time, which is a miracle, and Fliss has invited Maria down for Hal’s birthday, which is an even bigger miracle.’

  ‘Has she?’ Lizzie took an olive from the dish on the table and crunched it with relish. ‘I think I’m surprised.’

  ‘So is Fliss,’ said Prue cheerfully. ‘Nothing is more surprising to us than making a truly charitable gesture. Have you noticed? It’s followed by such confusion. At first we feel rather elevated by our great-heartedness and then we’re furious that we’ve allowed ourselves to be taken in. Don’t you agree?’

  Lizzie chuckled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure you’re right. Which is Fliss feeling at the moment?’

  ‘I rather think that she’d worked through her sense of self-satisfaction by the time she’d driven home and now she’s in a fit of exasperation at what she sees as her weakness. She’s in the drawing room playing the piano. Rather gloomy Brahms.’

  ‘Do you think it was weakness?’ asked Lizzie, amused.

  ‘No, no. I think that a true act of generosity should never be regretted, but poor Fliss fears that she might have been manipulated.’

  ‘Well, that’s possible. Maria’s rather good at that, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes,’ sighed Prue. ‘Po
or Maria finds it hard to relax. She is fearful because she’s insecure and so she needs to feel in control all the time. It’s very sad.’

  ‘I was expecting her to be more of a cow. You know, making bitchy remarks and putting the cat among the pigeons. She was very subdued when she was here in the spring, but I put that down to her bereavement, and I was expecting more ructions this time.’

  Prue put bread and cheese on the table, and a bowl of salad. ‘Adam’s death has shocked her,’ she said. ‘Maria was always immature, putting her own needs before those of her children, looking to Hal and then Adam to make difficult decisions and look after her. She could never see that we are each responsible for ourselves and now, suddenly, she’s completely alone. I think, in the end, that she truly loved Adam and his death has opened her eyes at last. She’s left it late to grow up but perhaps not too late. We must hope not.’

  ‘And what about Jo?’

  ‘Ah, yes. Well, Jo was expected to grow up too quickly. Maria forced him into that and he might find it very hard to be sympathetic now that it’s her turn.’

  ‘You think he ought to forgive her?’ asked Lizzie diffidently.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Prue at once. ‘For his own sake, if not for hers. Anger and resentment are so bad for the soul, aren’t they? So destructive. Perhaps, especially now, he can afford to be generous.’

  ‘Why especially now?’

  ‘Henrietta,’ answered Prue succinctly, ‘the wonderful thing about love is that it’s all-encompassing. He might find he has a little left over for Maria.’

  Cordelia came out of the Harbour Bookshop and stood for a moment, tucking her parcel into her basket. A tall woman with a familiar face emerged from the doorway behind her and Cordelia stood to one side to let her pass.

  ‘I think you dropped this in the bookshop.’ The woman smiled at her, holding out a pretty silk scarf. ‘They asked me to give it to you. It is yours, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is. Thank you so much.’ Cordelia hesitated, wondering whether to make a friendly observation, but before she could say anything else her mobile phone began to ring. She rolled her eyes, shrugged, and the woman laughed and moved away.

  It was Henrietta. Cordelia hurried across the road towards the car park on the quay, her phone to her ear.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine. Really good. Actually I’ve got some news for you. Jolyon and I are engaged.’

  Cordelia stood quite still; she closed her eyes. ‘Oh, darling,’ she breathed. ‘What fantastic news. It’s wonderful. I’m so pleased.’

  ‘I knew you would be.’ Henrietta’s voice was jubilant and Cordelia felt that she might weep with joy. ‘Listen, Jo’s here and he wants to speak to you.’

  Jolyon was talking before she could pull herself together and she clasped the phone even tighter, listening eagerly to his voice.

  ‘Hello, Cordelia. Henrietta says you’re pleased. Isn’t it fantastic? I know I should have asked your permission first and all that but it was a bit spur-of-the-moment stuff so I hope you’ll overlook it…’

  ‘Oh, darling Jo, it’s the most wonderful news. I couldn’t be happier. Oh, I want to shout with joy but I’m in the car park in Kingsbridge. Where are you?’

  ‘I’m with Henrietta. We’re at the cottage. Look, I haven’t talked to anyone at The Keep yet so if you should speak to Fliss or Dad before we do I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention it.’

  ‘Of course, I understand. Let me know when you’ve spoken to them.’

  ‘I’m hoping to do that now but Henrietta wanted you to be the first to know. Here she is again.’

  ‘Hi, Mum. Listen, we’re only telling just the immediate family at the moment. Nobody else. I don’t want Susan to find out from anyone but me. I’ll catch you later but Jo wants to speak to his family now. OK?’

  ‘Absolutely. And I won’t tell a soul. Of course not. Oh, darling, I’m just so happy for you.’

  She stood for a moment beside her car, quite incapable of getting in and driving away; too happy to do anything but revel in her joy. ‘Henrietta wanted you to be the first to know…’ How sweet those words were; Cordelia clasped her hands to her heart and swallowed down her tears.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  It was the tall woman again, unlocking her own car door in the row opposite and looking at her with friendly concern.

  ‘Yes.’ Cordelia made an effort to behave normally. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks. Just some rather wonderful news from my daughter, that’s all.’

  ‘That’s good then.’

  ‘Oh, it is. It is. I’m so happy.’

  ‘I can see that.’ The woman nodded, smiling. ‘Drive carefully.’

  ‘Thanks. I will.’ For a moment Cordelia longed to share her news with this kind woman, but she remembered Henrietta’s injunction and held her tongue, simply raising her hand in farewell to the woman as she drove away. She unlocked the car and got in, wanting to be at home. With any luck Fliss would telephone and she’d be able to share her happiness. Still, she paused long enough to dial Angus’s number.

  ‘It’s nearly four o’clock,’ she said, ‘and I’m on my way home now so you could come any time you like.’

  ‘Great,’ he answered. ‘I can’t wait to hear how the weekend went and what Maria was like. I’ll be with you in an hour at the most.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was Hal who took the phone call. He talked first to Jolyon, then to Henrietta and then to Jolyon again. Taking the phone into the little study he found Cordelia’s number and dialled it.

  ‘I gather you’ve heard the tidings of great joy?’ he enquired. ‘Isn’t it wonderful?…Of course I’m pleased…Well, she doesn’t know yet. No, listen, Jo and I have made a plan. He’s staying with Henrietta tonight, doing some research around Appledore and Bideford tomorrow, and he’ll be back here late afternoon. We’re going to have a little party when he’s back but we’re keeping it a secret until then. I think it will be nice for Fliss and my old ma and Lizzie if he tells them himself. What d’you think?…Fantastic! So will you be here? Come early and have some tea…Of course we want you here. You’re part of the family now…Don’t be daft. We need you here. It’s just a pity Henrietta can’t be here too, but the logistics are a bit tricky. I talked to her about it and we’ve agreed to do it all over again on Sunday when Jo can go and fetch her over for the day, so book out Sunday lunch as well…Oh, yes. Good thinking. Look, I’ll tell Fliss that you rang up for a chat and that I’ve suggested that you drop in for tea tomorrow. OK?…That’s great. And remember, not a word to anyone. See you tomorrow.’

  He came out of the study and came face to face with Fliss.

  ‘I thought I heard the phone,’ she said. ‘I just wondered…’

  Her voice tailed away and despite his excitement, he saw the signs of strain in her face, the little lines between her brows, and he was seized with anxiety.

  ‘What’s the matter, love?’ he asked. He took her thin, cold hands and drew her into the warmth of the kitchen. ‘That was Cordelia. She’s over this way tomorrow and I told her to drop in for tea. That’s OK, isn’t it? Gosh, you’re cold. I’ll light the fire in the hall and we’ll have some tea. What is it, Fliss? Not still worrying about Maria?’

  ‘Not really.’ She looked away from him. ‘Though I still wish I hadn’t invited her for your birthday. I’m worried about what Jo will say when he finds out.’

  Hal turned away to push the kettle on to the hotplate, longing to tell her that Jo was in such high spirits that he probably wouldn’t care.

  ‘So what is it, then?’ He had a tiny flickering memory, a sense of déjà vu, as if he and she had been here before, and turned back to her. ‘You still think we’re taking a risk? That I’ve opened Pandora’s box and we’re going to be hurt by the fallout?’

  She sat down at the table. ‘I just don’t know. It’s brought back memories, like we said before.’

  He sat down too, turning his ch
air towards her.

  ‘That’s true. I’ve suddenly realized that I feel guilty about quite a lot of things I thought I’d forgotten. That I didn’t fight harder for us when we were young, for one thing. And I shouldn’t have told Maria how I felt about you, for another. Looking back I can see that she was much too insecure to deal with something like that. And I feel guilty about poor old Jo. He was the scapegoat and now I’ve forced him into an untenable position. I should have listened to you, Fliss.’

  She tried to smile. ‘I think it’s me, really,’ she admitted. ‘At least now, doing it your way, some kind of healing might be possible. It’s just that I feel so muddled. Yes, it’s raised all kinds of feelings I didn’t realize were there. Resentment because we gave in so easily all those years ago, and anger at Maria because she thinks she only has to say sorry and we’ll forgive her, and guilt that I can’t be more generous about it all.’

  Hal couldn’t help laughing, just a little. ‘Poor old love,’ he said sympathetically. ‘That’s pretty comprehensive.’

  He saw the instinctive flash of annoyance give way to a reluctant amusement.

  ‘Uncle Theo stands at my shoulder,’ she said. ‘Do you remember that thing he used to say? “We are as big or small as the objects of our love.” I’m feeling very small. It’s complicated though, isn’t it? Can I forgive Maria for the damage she’s caused to Jo? Anyway,’ she shrugged, ‘if I’m honest, it’s not just about Jo. It’s not even about Maria. It’s about me. Maria’s reappearance has made me see myself more clearly. Yes, I suddenly realize that I do feel resentful that you didn’t fight for me when we were young. And that you took so long to getting round to proposing to me after Miles died. Crazy, isn’t it? It’s eight years ago, for goodness’ sake, but suddenly all these feelings have come from nowhere.’

  ‘Pandora’s box,’ he repeated bitterly. ‘I don’t know what to say. I can repeat the old well-worn phrases, of course, explaining why: I was too young to know what I wanted and what I was doing in the first place; and that we’d got into a kind of rut in the second. But they just sound like excuses, don’t they?’