Act of Will

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  Poor little Gwenny, Audra thought, trying to visualize her friend after he had worked his transformation on her, after he had dressed her and groomed her and turned her into the kind of Mrs Geoffrey Freemantle he wanted. In her mind’s eye she saw a curiously stiff, cold woman, an image that had nothing to do with her Gwen Thornton. But then none of the things Gwen had been saying had much to do with the girl she knew so well and cared so much about.

  Getting to her feet, Audra went and snapped on the small lamps standing on the Sheraton side tables flanking the fireplace. Then she hurried over to the console, brought back the bottle of sherry and refilled their glasses.

  Knowing Gwen was waiting for some sort of comment after her graphic recital, Audra murmured, ‘Well, it all sounds wonderful, very wonderful indeed.’

  ***

  After this statement there was no holding Gwen.

  Audra realized this when she returned to her chair and offered her friend the warmest of smiles—and her undivided attention.

  Always a chatterbox, Gwen talked non-stop about her impending wedding, Geoffrey, his parents, the honeymoon, and the life they would lead afterwards, all without drawing breath.

  Leaning back, sipping her sherry, Audra merely nodded occasionally, aware that she would not be allowed to get a word in edgewise. But she did not really want to; neither was she listening very closely.

  Her thoughts were centred on Geoffrey Freemantle. It was patently obvious to Audra why he wished to marry Gwen Thornton. She was much younger than he, and was a beautiful blonde with a curvaceous figure; she had a vivacious, outgoing personality and a very loving nature. So all in all she was most desirable in every way; she would be to any man. Also, since she was a nurse and the daughter of a doctor, her background was ideal for an ambitious physician, and unquestionably Geoffrey Freemantle was that. Yes, Gwen could not be anything but an asset to him.

  What truly bothered Audra was Gwen herself. Why on earth would she want to become his wife? He was the antithesis of Mike Lesley, and whatever Gwen now thought about Mike, Audra was well aware that she had been genuinely smitten with Charlie’s closest chum. There was only one answer. Gwen wanted Geoffrey Freemantle for everything he represented and all the things he could give her—prestige, position, money.

  Instantly, Audra tried to dismiss these uncharitable thoughts. Yet deep down inside herself she was convinced she was right. Not once in the entire time Gwen had been speaking about Geoffrey Freemantle had she mentioned that most crucial word love. How can a marriage work without love? Audra wondered. Perhaps she ought to talk to Gwen about that. Immediately she decided against doing so, remembering how much she had resented Gwen’s gratuitous comments about her own marriage.

  Anyway, perhaps I’m wrong, Audra told herself. Maybe she does love him. And then, much to her astonishment, she thought: but loving a man doesn’t necessarily make for happiness, does it?

  CHAPTER 16

  Later that evening, towards the end of supper, Gwen flashed Audra a conspiratorial look. ‘Shall I tell Vincent my news?’

  ‘Why not?’ Audra said, laughing, well aware that her friend had been bursting to let him in on her secret all night.

  ‘What news?’ Vincent asked, glancing from one to the other.

  ‘I’m getting engaged next week,’ Gwen announced, then sat back in the chair, beaming and looking pleased with herself.

  ‘Well I can’t say I’m surprised.’ Vincent leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Congratulations, Gwen, and you ought to have brought Mike with you to supper. I like him, he’s a straight bloke, and you’ve made a good choice for yourself.’

  There was a small silence.

  Gwen said quickly, ‘Oh, but it’s not Mike I’m marrying.’

  ‘Not Mike,’ Vincent echoed, sounding startled. He wrinkled his brow. ‘Well, I’m blowed! And I thought you two were as thick as thieves. So you’ve found somebody else then.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Cut up, Mike is, I’ll bet.’

  Gwen’s throat tightened and she discovered she could not speak. She simply nodded.

  ‘Yes, I can well imagine how he’s feeling.’ Vincent gave Gwen a very hard stare. ‘Mike thought a lot about you, Gwen, he did that.’

  Gwen said, ‘I know he did and I cared for him too, but obviously not enough, if I could fall for another man.’

  ‘And who’s the lucky chap then?’ Vincent asked, wondering how she could pass Mike Lesley up for someone else. Mike was very special, and now that he thought about it, the kind of man he would like for his sister Laurette.

  ‘His name’s Geoffrey Freemantle,’ Gwen was saying, giving him a bright, confident smile, ‘and he’s a doctor at Leeds Infirmary. But he’s originally from Harrogate and that’s where his parents live.’

  ‘And when did all this happen? I mean, we were all together with Mike at the end of June, so it must’ve been in the last couple of months, right?’

  ‘Yes, Geoffrey first asked me out at the beginning of July, but I’ve—’

  ‘All a bit quick, Gwen, isn’t it?’ Vincent broke in peremptorily, and not giving her a chance to respond, he hurried on, ‘Marriage is a tricky business, you know, so I hope you’re really sure about this chap. What I mean is that I know for a fact that Mike is the genuine thing, a really fine upstanding man, so I hope this new bloke is just as… okay. I wouldn’t want you to be making a big mistake—a terrible mistake, Gwen.’

  Gwen’s mouth tightened in annoyance and she glared at Vincent, bristling. How like him to express his unwanted and unasked-for opinions. She exclaimed coldly, ‘It just so happens that I’ve known Geoffrey for a long time—since I worked in Ripon. And as I pointed out to Audra earlier, you and she hardly had what I would call a lengthy courtship, so just think on, Vincent Crowther, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. Besides, it’s none of your business, so there!’ She sat back in a huff, still glaring at him.

  ‘Oh excuse me, I’m sorry I spoke,’ he muttered and puffed hard on his cigarette, looking annoyed.

  Audra could see they were heading for one of their little tiffs and she exclaimed, ‘Now you two, stop this, don’t spoil a lovely evening. Anyway, I have something to tell you both—a little news of my own.’

  Vincent swung to her, his brow lifting quizzically. ‘What news, love?’

  ‘I’ve taken a job and I start in two weeks.’

  Vincent’s jaw dropped and he stared at her in astonishment.

  Gwen, equally surprised, cried, ‘What kind of job? Where?’

  ‘At St Mary’s Hospital, here in Armley,’ Audra explained. It was her turn to look pleased with herself, and she rushed on enthusiastically, ‘And as a nurse, of course. Mrs Bell introduced me to the matron there, and I’m looking forward to it immensely. It’s a challenge, since I’m going to be on the Maternity Ward.’

  ‘Whatever made you do such a stupid thing?’ Vincent demanded furiously, his green eyes blazing, an angry flush spreading up from his neck into his face. ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing you right!’

  Audra was so taken aback at his extraordinary outburst, she was momentarily thrown off balance. And then she sat up straighter and retorted, ‘I don’t think it’s stupid! I think it’s very clever of me! After all, I’ve had a very good training and it’s a pity to waste it. Matron Lennox has always said that nursing is a real gift with me, so why shouldn’t I put it to good use? Not only that, I want to work.’

  ‘Well, you can forget it! No wife of mine is going out to work and that’s that!’

  His temper was boiling very near to the surface and he shook his head with vehemence. ‘My God, Audra, what are you thinking about? How could you do such a thing? I can just hear my mates talking, sniggering behind my back because my wife has to work to help support the household.’

  ‘But that’s not the reason I want to work!’ Audra exclaimed.

  ‘Maybe not, but that’s what they’ll think. Just you remember that I’m the man in this house and the bre
ad winner and that I wear the trousers, and make the decisions, not you.’ Glancing at Gwen, he appealed to her by saying, ‘I bet you’re not going to work after you’re married, are you? Will you continue to be a nurse at the Infirmary?’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ Gwen answered softly. She looked at Audra apologetically, reached out, touched her arm. ‘I’m sorry, lovey, but I’m afraid I have to agree with Vincent. He’s right, really he is. Anyway, why would you want to go back to nursing in a hospital? It’s such demanding work and the money’s not much.’

  ‘Look, I want to use my skills, and be useful.’ Determined to stand her ground with Vincent, Audra threw him a fierce look. ‘And why does it matter what people think? You’re being absurd—’

  ‘I refuse to discuss this any further, Audra!’ he interjected. ‘The matter’s closed!’ He brought his fist down on the table much harder than he had intended and the dishes rattled.

  ‘Vincent, don’t be so stubborn!’ Audra was so infuriated by his attitude and his behaviour she could barely contain herself. ‘Being married to you doesn’t mean that you can control me, make me do as you say. I would like to have a career in nursing, and it’s my right to—’

  ‘There you go again, Audra.’ Vincent laughed sarcastically. ‘It’s Mrs Irène bloody Bell talking, not you. I don’t want any of her women’s rights and suffragette nonsense in my house, lass, and you’d better not forget that!’

  Audra sucked in her breath, took a hold of herself. ‘Oh Vincent, you’re being so very unfair,’ she murmured, softening both her voice and her manner. She took hold of his hand, hoping to placate him, wanting to get her own way ultimately. ‘You’re misunderstanding everything I’ve said.’

  He gave her a cold sulky little glance, made no response.

  Laughing somewhat self-consciously, Gwen looked from Audra to Vincent, then said, ‘I don’t like to see the two of you quarrelling in this way. Come along, kiss and make up.’

  Knowing that Vincent would do no such thing, and wishing to curtail the quarrel because of Gwen’s presence, Audra pushed back her chair and rose. Putting her arm around his shoulder, she brought her face down to his and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘All right, you win,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll go to the hospital next week and tell them that I can’t take the job.’ But she was merely making a gesture for the sake of peace and quiet. She did not mean one word she said and she had no intention of giving in to him.

  CHAPTER 17

  The marriage that had begun with an intense physical passion in the heat of the summer had a winter frost on it by December. And the passion had cooled considerably.

  Vincent and Audra were frequently at loggerheads in the latter part of 1928, and certainly the tranquillity that had initially reigned in the little cottage in Pot Lane had given way to constant bickering and stormy quarrels.

  The odd thing was that they were very alike in many respects, and this was actually part of the problem. Both were stubborn, strong-willed and independent minded. In consequence, they were forever locking horns. Then again, each believed the other was wrong and therefore at fault. They were young and immature and unable to make allowances for normal human frailties; neither could they compromise, which might have helped to lessen the tension between them.

  Vincent, who was too self-involved at this time in his life to see much beyond his own desires and interests, had very little real understanding of Audra.

  Surprisingly, she, who usually had so much insight into others, was rarely able to read him accurately because she was so subjective. In fact, Audra’s view of Vincent Crowther would always be blurred and off-centre, influenced as she was by emotions of the most powerful kind.

  Audra was generally in a turmoil about him and filled with conflicting feelings. There were times when she believed she loved him to distraction, others when she was convinced she had nothing but hatred for him. Vincent, as it happened, felt exactly the same way, and he was often as confused about Audra as she was about him.

  Another stumbling block in their relationship was their newly-acquired habit of arguing violently about almost everything. They were suddenly incapable of discussing their problems in a quiet and rational way, so that neither of them ever really knew what the other truly thought or felt. And their mutual ambivalence about their marriage, and their dissatisfaction with each other, simply grew.

  Sometimes they were able to make up in the darkness of their bedroom, drawn to each other—almost against their own volition—by the strong physical attraction they shared. But these occasions were growing rarer because their problems intruded more and more, and also because Audra, in particular, brought her anger to bed with her.

  She had been holding a number of grudges against Vincent since September, and the one thing which truly rankled the most was his adamant refusal to let her return to nursing. She had reasoned, cajoled, argued and pleaded, in an effort to bring him around to her way of thinking. But Vincent had refused to budge, had remained as cold and unbending as he had been on the night of the supper with Gwen.

  In the end, Audra had been the one to give in, suddenly understanding that if she defied him, and took the job at the hospital, he would leave her. And very simply put, life without Vincent Crowther was quite inconceivable to her, whatever their difficulties might be. Therefore, she had allowed his wishes to come before her own, telling herself that her marriage was far more important to her than a job. Somehow she had managed to wear a cheerful expression most of the time, one that did nothing to betray her feelings of disappointment and frustration at his obstinacy.

  But when Audra had gone to Calpher House to tell Mrs Bell what had happened, her eyes had filled with tears and her unhappiness had tumbled out unexpectedly.

  Irène Bell had been warm and sympathetic, as she always was towards Audra, and she had done her level best to comfort her. And whatever Mrs Bell had thought privately about Vincent’s attitudes she had wisely kept her opinions to herself. ‘Perhaps he’ll come around, change his mind at a later date,’ Mrs Bell had said encouragingly, giving her a hopeful smile.

  But Audra knew he would not do so. It was not in Vincent’s nature to admit that he was wrong. Similar though they were in some ways, Audra did not share these particular characteristics with him. She was always able to recognize when her judgement was flawed or when she had made an error.

  As she hurried down Pot Lane, on this raw afternoon early in December, she was telling herself just how wrong she had been. Wrong to marry him in the first place, and certainly wrong to stay with him as she had, forever wavering about what to do, forever indecisive. She should have packed and left the minute everything had started to go askew in August.

  Well, she had done that now. There was no turning back.

  She tightened her grip on the small suitcase she was carrying and clenched her teeth, thrusting out her small determined chin. The decision had been made. Finally. She had walked out on Vincent Crowther and she had no intention of returning.

  Deep down inside herself Audra knew that she still loved Vincent. She supposed she would always love him. But she had come to the realization that love was not necessarily enough to sustain a relationship. A couple had to be able to live together in harmony if a marriage was going to be successful. Seemingly she and Vincent could not do that. They were constantly at each other’s throats these days, tearing each other apart with angry, hurtful words that were sometimes hard to retract later.

  Last night they had had a particularly violent quarrel, their worst yet, and one that had left her shaken and despairing.

  An hour earlier she had been ironing the last of his shirts in the parlour-kitchen when suddenly she had put the flatiron down on the trivet with a bang, instantly understanding what she must do. She had quickly tidied away the ironing things, changed her clothes, packed a suitcase, then taken her meagre savings and left the cottage.

  As she had turned the key in the lock her eye had caught the number thirty-eight painted
on the green door and she had stared at it, had felt a strange pain in her chest. And then an immense sadness had fallen over her and she had leaned her head against the door, closing her eyes, thinking of the past few months here. Simple and ordinary though it was, this humble little house was a palace to her. It was her first home of her own, and it contained not only all of the things she owned in life but her very life itself. Certainly her dreams and expectations for the future were sheltered within its walls. She had believed that these would come to flower here with Vincent; that they would start a family of their own, build a good life together. But that was not meant to be apparently—or so it seemed to her.

  Audra had cut off these thoughts, not daring to let her mind run on in this manner. After slipping the key under the doormat, she had picked up her suitcase and almost run out of the cul-de-sac and into the lane.

  And now as she headed in the direction of Whingate tram terminal she was still trying to push aside that sadness, as well as the awful depression that had descended on her. But the feelings lingered. Her dreams were shattered, her hopes were flattened; the sense of loss she had lived with for years loomed enormous in her. She had lost again. Lost her husband, lost their life together, lost her future.

  Audra’s step faltered and for a split-second, as she hesitated, she almost changed her mind and went back to the cottage. But something inside her said no. She plunged ahead determinedly.

  ***

  The weather, which had been nasty all through the day, had turned ominous.

  There was a pewter-coloured glaze on the sky and the surrounding landscape was bleak and bereft, without a single spot of colour. It reminded Audra of a painting in grisaille with its many tints of grey, and the stark and blackened trees stood out in relief, were like pieces of metal sculpture silhouetted against the lowering sky.