The Long Way Home: A moving saga of lost family

by Whitmee, Jeanne

  In the dining room Marie had seen to it that a table was laid for them in a quiet corner. In the centre of the snowy damask cloth a green pine-scented candle floated in a bowl of Christmas roses, its gentle light making the waxen petals glow like pearls. Marie had changed into a plain black dress, and she wore the scarf Philip had given her stylishly draped over one shoulder and fastened on the other with a silver pin. The contrasting colours enhanced her fair complexion and made her look delicate and fragile. Philip smiled at her across the table.

  ‘You look very nice. I was right about the scarf. It suits you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She wanted to return the compliment but she was still a little shy. She thought that Philip looked very handsome in his dark grey suit. His dark hair was brushed smoothly back and there were grey wings over his ears that gave him a distinguished look. They ordered their meal and Marie leaned forward.

  ‘Do tell me about the cottage. How is the work going?’

  He smiled wryly. ‘Slowly. You know what building is like in winter. And I’m afraid I shall have to wait for spring for them to begin landscaping the garden.’ He leaned forward. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you, Marie. When I get to the interior decoration and furnishing, I’d very much appreciate your advice. Will you help?’

  ‘I’d love to. Spending other people’s money is such fun.’ She laughed and he looked at her, his eyes gentle.

  ‘I haven’t seen you do that for some time,’ he said. ‘I’d like to see you do it more often. Laughing suits you.’ He paused. ‘By the way, why did you refuse to see me when I called round a couple of weeks ago?’

  Marie’s smile disappeared and she avoided his eyes, applying herself to the soup which the waiter had just put before her. ‘I wasn’t feeling very well.’

  ‘Need I remind you that I am a doctor?’

  He was teasing her and she shook her head. ‘Oh, not ill. Call it an off day.’

  ‘I thought we were friends, Marie. I’m not only here for the good days, I hope.’

  ‘Of course you’re not, Philip.’ She put down her spoon and looked at him. ‘Ralph was here. He came home unexpectedly. I’d arranged to go up to London to meet — for a rather special appointment, and I couldn’t go. It was one of those times when everything goes wrong.’

  ‘I see.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Marie, forgive me, but things are not all that they should be between you and Ralph, are they?’

  ‘What makes you ask me that?’

  ‘Forgive me for saying so, but all the signs are there.’

  ‘Signs?’

  ‘I’ve seen enough badly treated wives to recognise them by now.’ Seeing her expression he said quickly: ‘I’m sorry, Marie. That must have sounded awful. It’s none of my business anyway. So you couldn’t keep your appointment. Couldn’t you have rearranged it?’

  ‘I tried. It didn’t work out. I told you — nothing went right that day. I wasn’t even able to let my — let the person I was meeting know that I wasn’t coming. I kept thinking of her, standing there at the station, waiting for me — thinking I’d let her down.’

  Her eyes were looking past him, full of pained regret. He reached across the table to touch her hand. ‘Marie, if there’s ever anything you want to talk about, I’m always here, you know. Anything you tell me would be in complete confidence. I’m sure you know that.’

  ‘Of course I do, Philip.’ Her eyes focused on him and she let out her breath in a long sigh. ‘Actually I would like to tell you. No one else knows. I didn’t even tell David that on the day in question I was going to meet my — my daughter.’

  ‘Your daughter?’ He looked surprised. ‘I didn’t realise that you and Ralph …’

  ‘Oh, not Ralph’s child. She and her twin sister were born twenty years ago, when I was seventeen. Their father let me down badly. I gave them up for adoption at birth because I didn’t know what else to do. One of them recently went to a lot of trouble to find me. A friend who happens to be a social worker arranged the meeting. But Ralph came home unexpectedly. I never told him about the babies, Philip, even though David had known from the first. Maybe I was wrong, but that’s the way it was and if he found out now …’ She shuddered.

  ‘So you had to abandon your plans? That must have been very frustrating. But surely you can fix up something else?’

  She sighed. ‘I suppose I could, but since then I’ve been asking myself if it would be wise — or fair. I couldn’t offer my girls any more now than I could then. You see, even now I’m still not free to acknowledge them openly as my daughters.’

  ‘Would that matter? Perhaps they just want to meet you, Marie,’ he said gently. ‘After all, they’re young women by now. I daresay they’ve become curious about their origins, and interested to know more about the woman who gave them birth.’

  ‘And I would dearly love to see them,’ Marie said longingly. ‘Even if it was only once. Just to see how they’d turned out.’

  ‘Well, at least one of them obviously wants to see you as badly or she wouldn’t have tried so hard to find you. Don’t let the chance go by, Marie.’

  ‘I don’t want to let it go by. It’s just that Ralph …’ She shook her head. ‘There are other complications. It’s very difficult. David is so easily upset and it’s bad for him. And Ralph is his son after all. I’m sure there must be times when his loyalty is severely strained. I wouldn’t want to make things worse for him.’

  Philip smiled wryly. ‘It’s always saddened me that I have no family, but I have to admit that there are times when it seems a positive advantage. The complications seem endless.’

  ‘Mine isn’t exactly a normal, straightforward marriage.’

  He touched her fingertips. ‘Life hasn’t been easy for you, has it, Marie?’

  ‘No, not easy, but I’ve been lucky in many ways. If I hadn’t gone to work for David …’

  ‘You wouldn’t have met and married Ralph?’

  For a moment they looked at each other. Marie recognised that the conversation could, at this point, take two different directions. Immediately she was on her guard, unwilling to let Philip lead her into a confession she might regret.

  ‘That’s right,’ she said carefully after a pause. ‘And I’d never have come to Dorset.’

  ‘Or met me?’ he finished for her with a twinkle in his eyes. They laughed together and the tricky moment passed. Marie wished with all her heart that she could have told him the whole truth about herself. But the idea of a respectable doctor wanting his name linked with a woman who had been in jail, convicted, albeit wrongly, of an act of terrorism, was unthinkable to her. As unthinkable as the prospect of losing his friendship.

  They lingered over their meal then took their coffee in the lounge. It was quiet. Most of the guests who had booked in for Christmas would not arrive until tomorrow. A log fire blazed in the hearth and Philip ordered cognac with their coffee. Marie felt herself relax for the first time in weeks. They talked easily — about Philip’s work in his new practice; about the cottage he had bought in a New Forest village, and his plans for it; about the guests who were expected tomorrow, some of whom Philip had met before. Finally Marie looked at her watch and was surprised to see that it was after eleven o’clock.

  ‘Heavens, I’d no idea it was so late. I must go,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘David will have gone to bed ages ago. I don’t like to turn in without checking that he’s all right.’

  ‘He’s lucky to have such an attentive daughter-in-law,’ Philip said, rising with her. ‘And he’s looking very well at the moment. I’m sure it’s all thanks to you. I’ll say goodnight then. And thanks for your company.’ He bent and kissed her lightly on the lips, then walked with her to the lift.

  It was quiet as Marie got out on the top floor. She let herself into the flat and went immediately to David’s room. Tapping softly on the door and getting no reply, she opened it and looked in. He was sleeping soundly, lying on his back and snoring gently. His book lay where he had dropped
it on the floor, his tablets and a glass of water standing as usual on the bedside table. Marie picked up the book and drew the covers carefully up over his shoulders then tiptoed silently out and went to her own room.

  When she opened the door she was surprised for a moment to see that the light was on. She must have carelessly forgotten to switch it off when she went down to dinner. Going to the dressing table she began to unpin the scarf Philip had given her, then she looked up into the mirror and was startled to see the reflection of Ralph’s broad figure standing silently in the bathroom doorway.

  ‘Ralph!’ She spun round to face him and the silk scarf Philip had given her slipped softly to the floor.

  ‘Startle you, did I?’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you till tomorrow.’

  ‘Evidently. I looked into the lounge on my way in but you looked so cosy with your doctor friend, sitting on the settee with your heads together, I thought I’d better not intrude.’ The words were bland enough but his eyes were as hard as granite. She could see the dark malice in them from across the room and her heart turned to ice.

  ‘Philip is staying for the Christmas holiday. He asked David and me to dine with him. He’s a guest. I could hardly refuse.’

  Ralph’s mouth curved in a smile. ‘Defensive, aren’t we? I wonder why? Don’t be a hypocrite, Marie. At least give me credit for recognising what I can see with my own eyes.’ He looked past her at the open door. ‘I do hope he isn’t about to join us. That would be embarrassing.’

  ‘Of course he isn’t.’

  He advanced towards her. ‘Don’t pretend to be so shocked at the idea. I daresay it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve entertained him up here.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not a patient of his, are you? I do hope he isn’t behaving unethically with you?’

  ‘I’m not his patient and he isn't behaving in anything but a perfectly proper and gentlemanly way. What you suggest is despicable.’

  ‘Despicable, am I? Maybe I should have been a doctor. Is that what turns you on, Marie? The clinical touch? Does he wear a mask and rubber gloves when he makes love to you?’

  ‘Stop it, Ralph. Please don’t.’ Sickened, she turned away, but he grasped her shoulders and jerked her round, forcing her to look at him.

  ‘Don’t turn away from me when I’m talking to you.’ She caught the sickly-sweet smell of whisky on his breath.

  ‘Ralph — your father is asleep. Please don’t shout.’

  ‘I’ll shout if I bloody well feel like it!’

  ‘What you’re suggesting is completely untrue and I’m sure you know that I don’t behave like that. Can we drop it, please? Ralph, I have to talk to you. I’m seriously worried. There have been more letters — and bills.’

  He frowned. ‘All bills are supposed to be sent to “The Marina”.’

  ‘These are final demands. Apparently they’re tired of sending them to Norfolk. Why won’t you let me deal with the business when you’re away? Or at least engage a secretary to deal with things for you?’

  ‘I’ve told you before. I won’t have anyone else meddling with the business.’

  ‘Then pay the bills. If we don’t settle up soon, I’m afraid …’

  ‘Afraid? You’re always afraid, aren’t you? You and Dad, you’re like a pair of frightened rabbits, God knows where you’d be today if it wasn’t for me.’

  ‘Ralph, if we don’t pay what we owe …’ She went to her desk drawer and took out a sheaf of letters.

  ‘Look — I’ve managed to keep them hidden from David so as not to worry him.’ She leafed through them. ‘They arrive every day. The stationers — the butcher — wine merchants — there’s no end to them. The latest is from Leisureways, the holiday magazine we’ve always advertised with. If we lose our goodwill with them we’ll lose a lot of business. So far your father knows nothing about them, but he’ll have to soon.’

  Ralph strode across the room and snatched the letters out of her hand. Tearing them in half, he tossed them into the wastepaper basket. ‘There — that’s what I think of petty tradesmen,’ he said, dusting off his hands dismissively.

  ‘They have to live too, Ralph. We’re all in business to support each other. I paid as many bills as I could out of my own account, but there’s nothing left in that now.’

  ‘Shut up!’ He rounded on her. ‘For Christ’s sake stop whingeing, woman. God knows why I bother to come home at all. I make time to come a day early to try and surprise you and what do I get? First I find you dining with another man; making a fool of me for all the staff to see. Then the moment you set eyes on me you start shooting off your mealy mouth about unpaid bills.’

  Marie stood her ground. ‘We have to talk about it seriously before you leave this time, Ralph. I insist. I have to live here and try to carry on. Since David’s recovery he’s trusted you to manage things.’

  ‘Trusted me? Is that what he calls it?’ Ralph snorted derisively. ‘Why the hell can’t he put the business in my name? Stubborn old fool.’

  ‘One look at the unpaid bills would prove he’d been right all along on that account. Ralph, you owe it to him not to spoil the good name your father has built for himself in business over the years. These people would have refused to supply us long ago if it hadn’t been for that. Their patience won’t last for ever though. What do we do then?’

  ‘We go elsewhere.’

  ‘We can’t continue to do business on empty promises.’ She went to him. ‘Ralph, even though you keep me in the dark about the business, I know that we’re doing well. “The Ocean” had a wonderful summer season. We’ve made a good profit. I’m sure the other hotels have too. There’s plenty of money going into the bank, so why is there a problem? Where is it all going? Are you putting it into investments, shares or what?’ He turned away from her in silence. ‘Very well. If you won’t tell me I’ll have to …’ She broke off, taking an involuntary step backwards. Ralph had turned swiftly, his face darkening with the danger signals she knew so well. His nostrils flared and she saw his hands clench white-knuckled at his sides.

  ‘Are you threatening me?’ He glowered at her. ‘All right, so you know about my past and you think you can use it against me. You discovered that I’d signed one or two cheques in Dad’s name. I had to do it, don’t you see? I’m in an impossible bloody position. What do you think it makes me look like?’ He banged his fist down hard on the dressing table, making the jars and brushes rattle. ‘I’m made to look like a fool at every turn. By him — by you. I may not have much clout, thanks to Dad, but I’m still the one who’s running this business, Marie, and don’t you forget it.’ He towered menacingly over her. ‘Why should I be expected to know what’s happening to the money when I don’t have proper control? How could I buy shares or make investments when all the authority I have is a miserable power of attorney? You’d better ask Dad. Maybe he’s been making secret investments. You know how close to the chest he plays his cards.’ He glared down at her, his lips curling scathingly. ‘As for you, you’re nothing but an employee just like you’ve always been. If you’re not satisfied with the way things are here, you’re at liberty to leave any time you care to. See if your lover-boy doctor needs a cleaning woman, why don’t you?’

  It was the same deadlock they arrived at every time. As always Ralph was resorting to insults. First came the verbal violence; any minute now he would lose control and turn to physical abuse. Marie turned wearily away. She was wasting her time as usual. She should have known it would be no use.

  To her great relief Ralph fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, but she lay awake long after, staring into the darkness, her thoughts tormenting her. Where was all the money going? Even his extravagant tastes and his womanising could surely not use it all up so fast. Very soon now something must happen. They’d be declared bankrupt. Maybe even worse, depending on what Ralph was up to. One thing was certain: all three of them would be out of work and homeless unless something was done quickly. Yet Ralph persistently ref
used to acknowledge that there was a problem. The burden on Marie was becoming intolerable. If only he would allow her access to the books. But they were locked away at ‘The Marina’ in Norfolk now, and even if she went there, there was no way she could get into the safe. She wondered about the coming meeting with an accountant that Ralph had spoken of. He’d been hazy about that. Did he have some scheme up his sleeve with which to save them? She desperately hoped so. But when she’d asked, Ralph had refused to tell her the man’s name or even the name of the firm he worked for. He was determined to keep her in the dark about their affairs.

  Lying there in the darkness she went back in her mind to the day she had gone to see Father Jonathan at St Joseph’s, to make her confession and to ask his advice about a divorce. She had confided in him about her past: about her conviction and the prison sentence she had served for a crime she hadn’t committed; about the babies she had borne and given up; finally about her unhappy marriage. She had told him about Ralph’s temper, his philandering and his cruel treatment of her. But when she tentatively mentioned divorce the priest had shaken his head.

  ‘You are aware of the church’s teaching on the subject, my child. Marriage is a holy sacrament. For those whom God has joined, the bond is for life.’ Marie’s eyes had filled with despairing tears. ‘But he’s broken his vows, Father. He doesn’t “love and cherish” me. He hasn’t kept only to me either. I can’t bear to think of spending the rest of my life with him.’