‘Me too.’ She reached over and kissed his mouth. Trying not to think of the torturous nights she spent feigning sleep and avoiding contact with Wally, poor Wally.
‘Your mum and dad doing okay? Dee?’
She nodded, unwilling to allow them entry into this little slice of paradise. This was Clover’s world.
‘Are you still proper soldiering?’ She laughed.
‘You are so cheeky!’ Sol dived on top of her, kissing her face and rolling her in the sand, squashing her beneath his frame.
When the sun had dried them, they jumped back into the car, which was cool from sitting in the shade.
Sol revved the engine and reached over for one final kiss before they drove off. ‘I need to make a stop-off on the way, is that okay?’
‘If you like. Where d’you need to stop off?’
‘I want to pick something up from home, but don’t worry, I can park at the back and nip in and out in minutes.’
‘Is your wife there?’
He nodded at the floor, unable to hide his guilt and nerves and yet so powerfully driven by the love he felt for his Clover that it overshadowed both of these negatives.
‘Oh God, Sol, it feels horrible to be sneaking around like this.’
‘I know, but it doesn’t feel like sneaking around, it feels right. I love you and if I hadn’t been forced to leave you, I wouldn’t have to sneak around, married to someone that I don’t fucking like, because I would be married to you and I would never have to sneak anywhere, ever in my whole life. I would be happy!’ He smacked his palm on the steering wheel. It was the first and only time she would hear him swear, see him lose his cool. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that word in front of you. I’m just angry at what I have had to miss and having you with me again has made me realise how very miserable I’ve been. So, forgive me for swearing, but I want no forgiveness for grabbing at the life I should be living, the life I could have had if other people had not interfered and ruined things for us. You asked if I am still a soldier – yes, I am, but in truth I’ve been at home, struggling. I almost lost my reason because of my grief at losing you, and I’m not better yet.’
Dot stroked the side of his face. ‘It’s okay, it will all be okay. I love you and that’s enough, isn’t it?’
He kissed her on the mouth. ‘I hope so, I really do.’
Sol stopped the car in a leafy lane, high up and surrounded by jungle. The grey roof of the house could be seen poking above the trees. It was huge. No wonder his mum had thought she wasn’t good enough; maybe she was right. Dot would have loved to have gone inside and had a look at where her beloved lived. She wanted to see the veranda that she had imagined on so many nights, picturing the two of them rocking in their swing seat, just as he had described it. She wanted to climb the staircase down which Sarah Arbuthnott had fled and up which Mary-Jane had skipped. Instead, she sat alone in the front seat of the car, all but hidden from view by the abundance of surrounding trees, waiting like a thief on the look-out, which in a sense she was. She began to fidget, taking the pins out of her hair and retwisting her bun.
‘Hurry up, Sol!’ she whispered as her sense of foreboding grew. She heard a noise approaching from behind her on the track; it was distinctive and yet took her a few seconds to recognise the sound of horses’ hooves. Two huge horses plodded up the lane. She could see them in the rear-view mirror and prayed that they would turn off before they reached the car; how she would explain her presence she didn’t know. She angled the mirror so she could see better.
One of the women she recognised instantly. ‘Oh shit!’
Vida wore a full riding habit despite the heat and laughed loudly with her mouth open as she patted the flank of her horse. ‘Can I call you a taxi?’ Dot’s heart raced. The girl on the horse next to her looked young. Dot felt her bowels turn to ice. The dark-skinned beauty with the flawless complexion and beautiful face was undoubtedly Sol’s wife. She held the title of Mrs Arbuthnott, something Dot knew she would never be called. But that was not what caused her heart to race. The young wife of the man she loved was also very pregnant.
No! No… Oh my God. This changed everything.
The two women broke into a gentle trot and turned off right, towards the stable block. Dot placed her head in her hands and wanted to run away, but she was trapped, as she so often was, in a situation over which she had very little control. She was thinking about her baby, big brother to the child the girl was carrying. Life was cruel. For want of a different mother-in-law with a different set of tolerances, she would be the one living in this big house, on this paradise island and her little boy would be swimming with his dad instead of living in another country with two people that weren’t his real parents.
Sol made her jump as he raised the boot and placed a box inside it. He clambered into the driver’s seat before noting her expression.
‘What’s the matter? Don’t look worried – I wasn’t seen and I’ve left a note. We have the whole night together.’ He held her hand and kissed her fingers.
‘What’s your wife called?’
‘It’s not important.’
‘It’s important to me.’
Sol sighed. ‘Her name is Angelica.’
‘Is she pretty?’
‘Where is this heading, Clover?’
‘Please just answer me.’ I’m testing you.
Sol paused, considering how to respond. ‘Yes, she is very pretty and everyone tells me how lucky I am. But it makes no difference to me; I am in love with you and so she could be the prettiest girl on the planet, what does it matter? All I know is that she is not for me; you are.’
Dot nodded. ‘Is she pregnant?’
Sol pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, then nodded. ‘Yes, she is.’
‘Is she happy?’ Her mouth quivered, although no tears fell.
‘I don’t see how she can be. I think she is distracted by being pregnant, but I don’t see how she can be happy when her husband is a stranger to her and spends most of his time thinking about someone else. It’s a farce. Her parents are keen to be a bigger part of St Lucian life and I am the means to that. It’s an arrangement.’
‘Don’t you want to be a dad?’ This she whispered. Biting her tongue to stop from saying, ‘This will be your second child – you have a son, a beautiful son! They took him away from me.’
‘Please don’t make me say it.’
‘Make you say what?’
Sol turned until he was facing her and cupped her hand in his palms. ‘I don’t want to have a baby with anyone other than the woman I love and that woman is you. Every time I look at her pregnant state, I picture you and I dislike her a little bit more each time for tying me into this sham of a marriage. So help me God, that is the truth and it makes me a monster.’
‘Take me home, Sol.’
The car wound its way down towards the beach as the day slipped into night and the huge golden sun sank behind the sea. Dot stepped over the threshold of her little hut and lit the candles that were placed on every available flat surface. The room glowed with the flickering lights as her shadow loomed large against the wall. Sol lifted the cardboard box from the boot of his car. He came into the shimmering cabin and smiled at his love. It had been an unforgettable day.
He sat next to her on the sofa and held her hand. ‘You didn’t say a word on the way back.’
‘No, I know, just thinking.’
‘What were you thinking?’
‘That when happiness is taken at the expense of someone else’s and the consequence is misery for them, it’s not right. It’s too high a price.’
‘But shouldn’t people think of themselves sometimes? Don’t we deserve happiness?’
‘I don’t know. I know that I love you; I love you more than I ever thought possible and I know I always will. But can I hurt Angelica, can I hurt her little baby? I don’t think so.’ She shook her head and once again pictured Barb’s distraught face, followed immediately
by Gracie’s mum being dragged along the shingle driveway.
‘Stay with me. Please stay with me. We can work something out.’
‘Can we? Like what? Me hiding from view in the passenger seat for the rest of me life?’
‘No, of course not. I can buy us a house! We could have a house like this; we could sit on the veranda each night and—’
‘No. Stop.’ She placed her fingers over his mouth. ‘I can’t let you tell me anything that won’t happen, anything that isn’t true, no matter how much we want it to be, cos it hurts too much when it’s taken away from me.’
‘But it can be true; we could find a way.’
‘You’d be sneaking from her to me and back again – that’s not honest. She would hate her life and eventually I’d hate my life. I don’t want to share you with someone that has had your child; I love you too much for that, I couldn’t stand it. You’d start lying to your child and eventually, Sol, you’d hate yourself and your life too.’
‘I hate my life now!’ This he shouted. ‘I just want you. I only want you. Please, Clover. Is it that you don’t want to leave London? That’s okay. I don’t care any more about anything. I could start over, I could come back with you!’
She gripped his hand. ‘And leave your child? No. I can’t have that on my conscience.’ Not again, not two babies robbed of their daddy because of me. ‘I’ve decided, Sol, this is what I wanted to tell you, I’m going home.’ I’m giving this little baby a daddy. ‘I shall go back and carry on best I can, but I shall always love you and now I can be happy, cos I know that you will always love me and in some ways that’s enough. It killed me when I thought I’d been wrong about you, about us, but I wasn’t, was I?’
Sol stood and she followed. ‘No, my darling, you weren’t. I love you.’
Dot heard her mother’s words inside her head, unwelcome and yet wise. ‘Love? Listen to yourself, Dot. What makes you think love is so important? Cos I’m here to tell you it isn’t. Love is what happens in the films, love is a little spark of fancying that dies, Dot; it dies.’
Sol stood and reached for her hand. ‘Let’s go outside. It’s my favourite part of the day, when the sun sinks into the ocean and the day has lost its heat; we’ll bask in the warm breeze that is blowing across the beach. We can do like I always said; watch the lights twinkling from Reduit Beach on the curve of the horizon. I want to hold your hand in mine and sit on the deck and smell the jasmine that fills the air around us. I want to spend one night with you, with the shutters thrown wide open and the warm wind flowing over us as I hold you tight in my arms, keeping us cool. And then just as I’ve dreamed, in the morning we’ll drink fresh pineapple juice and feast on mangoes. But only after we have run across the beach and dived into the crystal-clear water and swum, tasting the salt water on our tongues and feeling it burn on our skin as we lie in the sunshine under the shade of a palm tree. Please, please, Clover, don’t send me away. Let us have one night just as we have always wanted, one night that will sustain me for the rest of my life. One night that I shall think about when I am old. What do you say, Clover, will you give me one night?’
She reached up and touched his face, wet with tears. ‘Yes. One night.’
‘But first…’ Sol walked over to his cardboard box on the little table and reached inside. ‘This has been lying around for years.’ He pulled out a gramophone, winding the handle with his right hand. ‘The last time I danced with you, I didn’t know I was saying goodbye. This time I do.’
He pushed the little sofa to one side and rolled up the rug. ‘Come and dance with me, my Clover. Let’s pretend we’ve got forever…’
The static crackle of the record filled the little room. Sol pulled her close and with one hand on her lower back and the other holding her outstretched hand, they waited, both knowing what was coming next. And then Etta started to sing in that rich, velvet voice. She started to sing the words of their song.
‘At last
My love has come along…
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song’
Sol drew her closer still and with her arm crooked against his chest held her hand inside his. She felt her form melt against him, until they were like one, swaying gently to the soundtrack to their love affair.
‘I love you so much, and I always will.’ He breathed into her hair, his words stuttering through his tears.
‘I love you too.’ She spoke to his chest.
‘Oh, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at you’
‘Don’t ever let me go, Sol.’ Her voice cracked, her vocal cords straining against her distress.
‘I’ll never let you go, baby.’
He pulled her closer still, holding her tightly against him.
‘I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to press my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known’
‘It will all be okay, won’t it?’
‘It will all be okay, baby.’
Dot smiled into his chest. Sol ran his fingers through her hair and watched her shiny locks fall in a curtain against her shoulder. ‘You are so beautiful.’
‘Oh, yeah and you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At last’
13
Dot ran her fingers through her hair and knocked on the front door. She exhaled and dug deep to find a smile. Wally twisted the Yale lock and stood staring at his wife.
‘Hello, Wall, pop the kettle on, I’m dying for a cuppa.’
Wally stood rooted to the spot. He swept his eyes over her tanned face and tousled hair; she looked lovely.
‘You’re back then.’
‘It would appear so.’
‘And are things…’
‘Are things what, Wally?’
‘Are things sorted?’ This he addressed to his socks, nervous of her answer.
‘Yes, things are sorted.’
His mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile. ‘So you’re staying?’
‘Yes, love, I’m staying. Now, are you going to let me in for that cuppa or do I have to chuck something else off the balcony before I get me own way?’
Wally reached out and lifted her suitcase from the walkway. Dot followed him into the hall and surveyed the flat in which she would spend the rest of her days.
‘Well, someone’s been busy!’
Dot noted the fringed lampshades that had been placed over all the bare bulbs. A large mirror now hung over the fireplace and a nest of tables was separated into three and placed either side of the chairs with a lacy doily on each. Floral curtains hung in the lounge and in the bedroom, where the greasy mattress had disappeared and been replaced with a large divan.
‘I thought if you came back, I wanted it to look nice for you.’
‘Well, I did and you have.’
Her husband beamed.
‘Thank you, Wally.’
‘S’all right. Your mum helped me. I’ll put the kettle on.’ He pushed past her into the kitchen.
He filled the kettle at the sink with his back to the hallway. Dot couldn’t see his smile or the way his mouth moved in silent thanks.
A few minutes later, the two were sitting in the vinyl chairs, holding mugs of their restorative brew.
‘I got you a present actually.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Wally wasn’t used to receiving gifts.
Dot pulled out a Bush radio from her suitcase. ‘I thought it’d be nice to have a bit of background music, we could even have a sing-along!’
‘Gawd, have you ever heard me sing?’
‘No, but I reckon if you’re half as bad as me, we’ll get all the dogs in Walthamstow howling!’
When the tea was finished, Dot washed up the cups and felt h
er fatigue wash over her. She smiled. This was a world away from flights around the globe, sitting on a deck with the sun on her skin or swimming in the warm ocean and sipping fresh pineapple juice. That was a life that belonged to Clover. But she wasn’t Clover, she was Dot, Dot Simpson from Ropemakers Fields; and this was her life, a life that she would live the best she could.
‘You turning in?’ Wally’s voice was shaky, issued from behind her. She turned to face her husband. ‘Yep, nearly done.’
He nodded.
‘Oh, and Wall?’
‘Yep?’
‘Tonight is our first. We are starting over, remember?’
He nodded. ‘I remember.’
She reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘Thank you, Wally. I don’t only mean for what you’ve done in the flat, I mean thank you for everything. It was an amazing thing you did and you did it just for me. I shan’t ever forget it.’
‘Dot?’
‘Yes, love?’
‘Don’t ever mention it again.’
Wally went into the bathroom to clean his teeth. They were starting over. He whistled out the last tune he had heard on the radio, Etta James’s ‘At Last’.
* * *
Dot lay on the hospital trolley, staring at the dazzling strip light overhead. The radio on the nurses’ station sent the gentle tones of the Four Seasons wafting down the ward. ‘Sherry Baby/She… e… rry, Can you come out tonight…’ Dot laughed. Yes, please, Sherry, do come out tonight. She couldn’t go through another day and night of this. Her contractions were evenly spaced, her labour had slowed and the pain was manageable. One of the nurses had given her a rubber band to play with to distract her mind, but had the woman entered the cubicle while the last contraction was building, Dot would happily have shoved the bloody thing where the sun don’t shine. She sincerely hoped they had something stronger available if she needed it. Her paper-thin nightie was none too warm and she was glad of the pale blue wool blanket that she could pull up under her chin. Her toes were snug inside some rather fetching white socks.
‘Can we call someone for you, Dot?’ The young nurse who had earlier removed the flaming red nail polish from Dot’s toes and fingers popped her head around the curtain, into the cubicle.
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