Act of Will

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  It had begun to drizzle. There was the low boom of distant thunder echoing like cannon across the nearby fields which stretched in a long, flowing line down to Old Farnley. A storm threatened and the wind was gusting over Hill-Top.

  Audra huddled against the railings of Charlie Cake Park, sheltering as best she could as she waited for the tramcar from Leeds to arrive at the terminal. It was long overdue.

  Shivering, she tightened the thick woollen scarf around her neck and stamped her feet in an effort to keep them warm. The kitchen of the cottage, with its fire banked up the chimney back, had been so cosy and comfortable she had not realized earlier just how bad it was outside. She stepped forward, glanced down Town Street. The street was strangely empty and deserted; the few pedestrians who were out and about were obviously in a hurry to get home before the storm broke.

  What miserable weather it is, Audra thought; it matches my mood exactly. She drew back into the niche between the park’s railings and the policeman’s booth, sighing. She had chosen to leave Vincent and yet she was already missing him. How perverse I am, she muttered, not understanding herself. And then she thought: I’m stupidly ambivalent about him still. But I’m doing the right thing. I know I am. Oh am I? Am I?

  Wrapping her arms around her body, Audra tried not to think about him or to envision his face when he walked in tonight and found that she had gone, found her note. She pushed her hands under her armpits for additional warmth and went on stamping her feet. She was chilled to the bone now, and she could feel the dampness seeping through her Melton coat and the plum-coloured cloche.

  About twenty minutes later she heard the tram rumbling to a stop at the other side of the tiny wedge-shaped park and then the sound of voices and footsteps as people alighted. Filling with relief, she hoisted her suitcase and hurried forward—and collided bodily with a young woman who came hurtling around the corner at breakneck speed.

  They both recovered their balance, started to apologize, stopped mid-sentence as they recognized each other in the murky, late afternoon light. Audra found herself staring into the pretty face of the sister-in-law who was her closest friend in the Crowther clan. Her heart dropped.

  ‘Audra! For heaven’s sake, what are you doing here?’ Laurette demanded and broke into warm and affectionate smiles.

  ‘Catching a tram,’ Audra mumbled and began to edge away.

  Spotting the suitcase, Laurette frowned. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Audra responded in all truthfulness, then found herself saying, ‘anywhere, I suppose, as long as it’s far away from Vincent.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Laurette looked at her intently, her eyes filling with alarm.

  ‘I’m leaving him.’

  Sucking in her breath, Laurette exclaimed, ‘Audra, no, don’t say that. You can’t leave him.’

  ‘Oh yes, I can.’

  ‘But where will you go? You know full well you have nowhere to go. We’re the only family you have.’

  Ignoring this remark, Audra improvised swiftly, saying, ‘I can always go to the Fever Hospital in Ripon.’ She nodded to herself, realizing that this was quite true. ‘Matron Lennox will find a place for me. I just know she will.’

  ‘Audra, listen to me! Please don’t be hasty, don’t do something that you may live to regret. Reconsider… at least about leaving today. It’s getting late, it’s almost four and the weather’s worse. Anyway, by the time you reach Leeds you’ll have missed the last train to Ripon. Come on, love, let’s go back to the cottage and talk about this,’ Laurette pleaded, taking hold of Audra’s arm.

  ‘Please let go of me, Laurette.’ Audra tried to shake off her sister-in-law’s hand but Laurette’s grip was firm. ‘Laurette, please! This is ridiculous. And I certainly don’t want to go back to the cottage.’

  ‘Then let’s go to my mother’s… we’re only five minutes away, come on, Audra, don’t be stubborn. You’re shivering, your face is blue with cold and you’re going to catch your death of cold out here.’

  ‘What’s the point of going to your mother’s house? I have nothing to discuss with her, or with you, for that matter. I’m not being rude, but it’s true. I’ve made up my mind and I won’t change it. I’m leaving Vincent.’

  Laurette drew closer and put her arm around Audra’s shoulders, lovingly, almost protectively. She confided softly, ‘Look, I’m the first to admit I was against your marriage initially, but now that you are married I do think you and our Vincent should attempt to solve your problems and—’

  ‘How can you of all people say that to me!’ Audra exploded in amazement, looking askance at Laurette. ‘Let’s not forget that you are in the middle of a divorce.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but that’s different. You and Vincent love each other. Jimmy and I didn’t, not really, not deep down.’

  ‘Love is not always enough.’

  ‘But it’s a foundation to build a life on, Audra, really it is.’

  ‘I’ve thought about this for weeks and I’m not going to be persuaded to do something against my will—’ Audra broke off as a bell clanged and the tram rolled away down the tracks to Leeds.

  Audra stared after it in dismay, then she swung to Laurette angrily. ‘Now look what you’ve done! You’ve made me miss my tram! And there won’t be another one for half an hour at least,’ she wailed, then burst into tears of aggravation and frustration.

  ***

  The profusion of roses on the walls, underfoot and patterning the china on the Welsh dresser looked more glorious than ever on this cold winter’s afternoon. They seemed to glow with the vividness of real flowers in the blaze from the fire that roared in the hearth like a furnace, and threw off tremendous heat.

  All was welcoming warmth and cheeriness in Eliza Crowther’s kitchen. The air was fragrant with the smell of freshly baked bread and mince pies and tea cakes cooling on the set-pot, the sharper aromas of cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg and other spices from the Indies mingling with the fruity tang of candied peel, sultanas and Egyptian dates.

  Eliza Crowther had been baking, which she usually did on Friday afternoons, come winter or summer. But today she had been busier than normal. Christmas was only three weeks away and she had been making holiday fare for her large family. She moved with agility between the table under the window and the sink, where she was now placing her dirty mixing bowls and spoons, cleaning up after herself. In a short while she would have to prepare tea for those members of her family who still lived at home, and she always preferred everything to be spic and span in her kitchen before she started.

  A woman of medium height and build, Eliza looked all of her forty-nine years. This was mainly because of her plain way of dressing, her severe hair-style pulled straight back in a bun, and her stocky body, which had thickened since the birth of her last child, Danny. But she had an attractive, pleasant face, good bones, and her pale blue eyes were bright, lively—and coolly appraising.

  And just as there was no artifice in her appearance, neither was there a jot of it in her manner. She stood no nonsense from anyone and prided herself on being a hard-working Yorkshirewoman who had her feet firmly planted on the ground. She spoke plainly and to the point, was even a little blunt at times; she had a saying, a maxim, or an old adage for almost everything in life and liberally peppered her speech with them.

  After washing and drying all of her cooking utensils, Eliza went to the oven to check her Christmas cakes, date loaves and the huge bacon-and-egg pie she was baking for tea. Satisfied that they were coming along nicely, she returned to the table under the window; she stood screwing down the lids on the jars of the dried fruits she had just used in her cakes.

  Since she was not expecting anyone at this hour she glanced up in surprise when the front door suddenly opened.

  Laurette walked in, followed by Audra. They looked pinched and cold and they were shivering.

  ‘You’re home early, love,’ Eliza said to Laurette. ‘Nothing wrong at work, I hope?’

 
‘No, Mam, it’s my early Friday. Have you forgotten?’

  ‘Oh, I had that.’ Eliza looked at her daughter-in-law. ‘Hello, Audra.’

  ‘Hello, Mrs Crowther.’

  Eliza turned back to her jars, finished replacing the last few lids. She had noticed the suitcase Audra was carrying but she decided not to make any comment. Laurette was now pushing it into the cupboard quickly, as if to hide it. There’s trouble brewing for Vincent, Eliza thought, but she said, ‘When you’ve taken your coat off, Laurette, you can mash a pot of tea, please, and you, Audra, come over to the fire and get yourself warm. You look nithered to death.’

  Both young women did as she said in silence.

  Laurette was pleased that she had succeeded in persuading Audra to come home with her. Although she had not intended to make her miss the tram, this had served a good purpose in the end. A tender-hearted girl, Laurette had grown to care deeply for Audra. The idea of her sister-in-law wandering the streets of Leeds in this bitter weather had been more than she could stomach. If she won’t go home to Pot Lane tonight she can share my bedroom, Laurette thought, busying herself with the tea caddy. And I’m going to have a few strong words with that brother of mine at the first opportunity I get. We’ve spoiled him, Mam and Olive and I. And even little Maggie has always done his bidding. I bet he’s not easy as a husband, or easy to live with, for that matter.

  Audra, for her part, sat hunched in one of the green-moquette wing chairs, staring gloomily into the fire. She had been furious with herself for giving into Laurette, but now she had to admit that she was glad to be inside in the warmth. The dampness had penetrated her bones and she still felt terribly cold despite the huge fire.

  The kettle was hissing and steaming on the hob, as it always was in winter, and Laurette filled the large brown teapot with boiling water then turned and put it on the table in the centre of the room.

  Seating herself at the table, she looked across at her mother and said, ‘Where’re Maggie and Danny? It’s well turned four and they should be home from school by now, shouldn’t they?’

  ‘No, not today. They’ve gone to the Parish Hall to see about the Sunday School pantomime. They both want to be in it so badly, I said they could go to try out for the parts. It’s Cinderella they’re doing this year.’

  ‘Knowing Maggie, she’ll want to play the leading role and nothing else,’ Laurette said with a laugh. ‘Come on, Mam, have this cup of tea before it gets cold.’

  Eliza joined the two of them in front of the fire.

  She took the other wing chair and, after a sip of tea, focused her attention on her daughter-in-law. ‘Now then, Audra lass, what’s all this about? I saw the suitcase, you know. Are you running off somewhere, or moving in here?’

  Audra flushed and bit her lip. But she did not reply, since she had no wish to confide in Vincent’s mother.

  Laurette volunteered, ‘I met Audra at the tram stop, Mam. She looked ever so upset and she said she was leaving Vincent, going back to work at the hospital in Ripon. But she missed her tram to Leeds when we were talking, so I made her come home with me.’

  ‘I see.’ Eliza sat up straighter and stared hard at Audra, frowning to herself. ‘What kind of silliness is this then, lass?’

  ‘It’s not silliness!’ Audra protested indignantly, and before she could stop herself she rushed on with some fierceness, ‘Vincent’s been behaving very badly in the past few months! He’s not treating me properly, and there’s no good reason why I should stay with him any longer!’

  ‘He can’t have been hitting you!’ Eliza asserted swiftly, secure in the knowledge that her son would never strike a woman, even if severely provoked. ‘So what do you mean? Explain yourself, lass.’

  Knowing that she was trapped, Audra took a deep breath, said in a more even tone, ‘He leaves me alone a great deal these days, and you know he does, Mrs Crowther. In fact, he’s always out at the pub with his brothers and his friends, or at the bookie’s office betting, and I don’t think that’s very fair of him. We might as well not be married, for all we see of each other, the little time we spend together.’

  Eliza sighed heavily and shook her head. ‘But that’s the way it is with us, the way it is in our working-class world, Audra. Our men toil hard, and their way of relaxing, of enjoying themselves, is to go to the pub for a pint, a game of darts, a few laughs with their mates. And what’s the harm if they put a few coppers on a horse, have a bit of a flutter once in a while? Surely you don’t begrudge Vincent his bit of harmless pleasure?’

  ‘No, of course I don’t. It’s just that I would like to see more of him, share his leisure hours. After all, I am his wife. But he goes out alone to the White Horse several nights a week, and he always disappears at weekends. He leaves me to my own devices and I’m lonely.’

  ‘Aye, I know, but as I said, that’s the way it is and the way it’ll always be now that the two of you are married, settled down. It’s different when you’re courting, it’s all sweetness and light like. But once he’s got the wedding band on your finger, a man’s attitude changes, Audra, and you’d better accept that. Oh aye, you had, lass. All marriages are the same and you won’t notice things so much when you have a few bairns tugging at your skirts. They’ll occupy your time, mark my words, and you’ll be glad to have Vincent out from under your feet, you’ll see.’

  Audra’s mouth tightened in annoyance. ‘I’m not planning on having children just yet, Mrs Crowther. What I would like to do is to return to nursing but that’s another problem between us, because Vincent won’t hear of me working.’

  Eliza was aghast. ‘I should think he won’t!’ she exclaimed in a horrified voice, ‘how could you ever suggest such a thing to him? It would make him feel small, much less of a man, if his wife went out to work. Whatever would people think? And what would his mates say?’

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t care! Furthermore, we could really use the money I’d be earning as a nurse,’ Audra shot back, unable to suppress her irritation any longer. ‘Vincent and I had the worst quarrel we’ve ever had last night, it was very nasty really, almost violent. And it was about money. ‘I’ve discovered that we’re in serious debt, yes, deeply in debt, Mrs Crowther, and it’s Vincent’s fault, not mine, so don’t look so disapprovingly at me. He went off and bought things on hire purchase at Wigfalls in Leeds without telling me. He had no right to do that.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘The leather sofa, the wardrobe and the bed.’

  ‘And why are you acting so surprised? You knew you had those things, they’re in your home, lass, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t know he’d bought them on hire purchase, I thought he’d paid for them outright, paid cash. And the reason I know he didn’t do so is because Vincent has missed some payments, and Wigfalls have written a nasty letter, which I opened when it came in the post yesterday. And apparently it’s not the first letter they’ve sent him either.’ Audra shook her head, her expression baffled. ‘We need the money so badly and yet Vincent goes out drinking and gambling as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. And he refuses to let me go back to nursing. It doesn’t make sense… his pride gets in the way of everything, and that’s very stupid of him.’

  ‘I’m sure there’s a right good explanation why he missed a payment,’ Eliza replied, instantly defending her favourite child, her Stormy Petrel. ‘Vincent has money in the bank, I know that for a fact.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t, Mrs Crowther. He spent his savings on new clothes for the wedding, our honeymoon in Robin Hood’s Bay and on other things for the cottage. I offered him my savings, and I said I would willingly sell a piece of my mother’s jewellery to help clear up our debts, but he won’t let me do anything to help.’

  ‘That’s because he doesn’t need your help,’ Eliza exclaimed huffily. ‘He probably has a nest egg tucked away somewhere, and knowing my son he’ll only get angrier if you try to cut the legs out from under him. Let him deal with these matters, Audra, in
his own way, and don’t interfere. He is the man of the house, after all.’ Eliza’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she went on in a sterner voice, ‘Anyway, I’m sure you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, it’s usually six of one and half a dozen of another in any marriage, and yours can’t be much different from anybody else’s. At least he’s not chasing after other women, and you ought to be grateful for that. Take my advice, try a bit harder, try to understand Vincent better.’

  Audra stared at her mother-in-law in utter astonishment. The woman was apparently blaming her for all of their troubles and exonerating Vincent completely. She felt suddenly defeated, worn down and totally misunderstood. ‘I have tried… I know you don’t like me, but I’m not a bad person—’ Audra’s mouth trembled and she turned her head to one side as scalding tears stung the back of her eyes.

  Eliza, startled by this statement, exclaimed, ‘Nay, Audra lass, don’t say a thing like that! I do like you, I always have, and I think you’re a fine young woman.’

  ‘Do you?’ Audra swallowed down the incipient tears. ‘But you haven’t acted as if you like me, really you haven’t, Mrs Crowther. You didn’t want us to get married, did you?’ Audra asked, stabbing in the dark now.

  ‘No, that’s true, I didn’t,’ Eliza admitted quietly. ‘But only because you’re from a different world to us. I was convinced you and our Vincent would end up wanting different things in life, and I wasn’t so far wrong was I?’

  Audra bit her lip. ‘I don’t know, I’m a little confused.’

  Eliza nodded. ‘Aye, you are, and that’s why you shouldn’t be doing owt hasty, like leaving Vincent.’

  ‘But if you feel our marriage won’t work, why do you want me to stay with him?’

  ‘We’re respectable people, and one divorce in this family is enough,’ Eliza muttered and looked through the corner of her eye at Laurette. She cleared her throat. ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure, that’s what I told our Vincent. But he wouldn’t listen, and I don’t suppose you did either, to your friends, I mean. Well, there we are, the two of you have made your bed so you must lie in it, regardless of whether the mattress is lumpy or not.’ Leaning forward, giving Audra a sharper look, she finished, ‘It’s always the woman who makes a marriage work, never the man. Just you be remembering that, lass.’