‘Well, I suppose we’d better be off,’ Jess said, taking the hint and getting up.
‘Look Zillah,’ Caroline said on impulse, ‘why don’t you come too? We’re going over to Hector’s now, to try to persuade my daughter to come home. You could help us to teach him a lesson.’
‘But,’ Jess said quickly, ‘what about Alaric?’
‘Oh he’s very sensible,’ Zillah said. ‘I could ask Rose in the next van to keep an eye, but he can make his own lunch, no bother.’
‘So will you?’ Caroline was keen to co-opt all available moral support.
‘Well, how would I get home?’
‘Oh we’d give you a lift back, of course, wouldn’t we Jess.’
‘Well… yes I…’
‘Right,’ Zillah said crisply. ‘Let’s go.’
Ever since Hector had sprung his daughter on her without warning and then selfishly, to ‘make a clean breast of everything’, had told her at the same time that Florian was his son, Wendy had felt bewildered and wretched. It was as though the whole world, which she had always known and trusted, had suddenly been revealed to be a mirage, and everybody but her had known it all along. She felt betrayed and despised and, yes, stupid too. She didn’t know what to say, how to react, what to do.
Her first action had been to scream at Hector, but eventually she’d thought about the girl downstairs, and how she must be feeling, and how it wasn’t her fault. So Wendy had made a supreme effort to act with dignity, and had cooked them some supper. She couldn’t understand half of what the girl said, but she and Morgan seemed to hit it off at once, mostly on account of his drawings. Hannah/Gwladys seemed to think they were remarkable. She said Morgan ought to train as an architect; that he could be famous! They were getting on so well together that Hector was beginning to look miffed. Wendy almost smiled.
But then, as the days went by, all the negative aspects of the situation caught up with her, and she was overcome with despair. She began staying in bed, sleepless and unable to stop weeping. She couldn’t bear to go out, and so Hector was obliged to do the shopping. She wasn’t hungry, and the very thought of cooking made her ill so she stopped doing any. She saw the confusion on the faces of those around her and, for once, she couldn’t care. Everything seemed futile, hopeless. She found even the smallest decision too hard to make. Depression had closed in around her and had crushed all her initiative. What was the point? Her husband didn’t love her. Her son didn’t need her. She didn’t want to have to face another day.
After Hannah had been with them for a week, things came to a head for Wendy. She felt she couldn’t go on. Her home, her privacy, her life had been invaded and she was expected to behave as though nothing had happened. How long would Hannah stay? Would Hector expect Florian to join them too? How would she cope? Why should she cope? But where would she go if she couldn’t? She had a car, but no money and no convenient relatives or friends to escape to (except for Ifor and June who might side with Hector). She felt trapped, and it was unendurable.
It was mid-morning, and the Sunday papers lay in roughly folded heaps where Hector had left them. Hannah and Morgan had gone out for a walk by the sea. Hector, clearly quite unable to deal with this new boneless Wendy, had brought her up a cup of tea.
‘D’you need anything?’ he asked, assuming a you-know-I’m-useless-at-this-sort-of-thing-but-you’re-putting-me-in-an-impossible-position-and-I’m-doing-my-absolute-best sort of expression. Wendy knew that he expected her to rally at this and become normal again, but she hadn’t the will or the energy even to try.
‘No.’
‘Well, is there anything I can do?’
‘No.’
‘Oh… well you see it’s just that Ifor’s invited me to play golf at his club today. We arranged it weeks ago, but I don’t like to leave you like this.’ Wendy said nothing. She didn’t care whether he stayed or went. It was all the same to her. ‘So… will you be OK, if I go?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re sure?’ ‘Yes.’
‘Well…’ Hector was looking infinitely relieved. ‘I’ll go then, but I won’t be long, I promise.’
Wendy watched without emotion as he escaped thankfully from her. She waited for ten minutes to make sure he really had gone, and then she went into the bathroom and got her bottle of sleeping pills. With an odd flash of the old Wendy, she decided she didn’t want to die in her nightie in bed, but fully clothed and decent downstairs. So she dressed and went down into the front room. Then she sat on the sofa with a half-bottle of Hector’s whisky, and began deliberately to swallow all the pills.
Jess drove Caroline and Zillah back northwards, trying to concentrate on her driving, but feeling muddled and anxious. She could appreciate that Hector was behaving badly; there was no gainsaying that. But she still couldn’t believe that he was being deliberately cruel… well yes, sometimes he wasn’t exactly kind… but there was nothing actively malevolent about him. He hadn’t got himself into these situations on purpose – they had somehow come about by unfortunate tricks of fate. They weren’t entirely his fault. Jess wasn’t at all keen on this coming confrontation, but in Zillah’s caravan she had felt outvoted. If Wendy was really as upset as Hannah had said, then perhaps it was more than a little unwise…? And knowing Hector, he’d slip imperturbably away, and they’d be left (as ever) to cope with the mess he’d left behind.
But, Jess thought, why is it that I still feel so partisan? I can’t seem to help it. I suppose I must be fond of the man. I certainly don’t want to see him humiliated. Oh dear… She glanced round. Caroline and Zillah seemed to be getting on very well indeed. That dandelion wine must be an excellent social lubricant, Jess thought. I’m sure they have nothing in common, except Hector.
When they arrived at Hector’s house and drove up his steep drive, the only car parked at the top was a small hatchback which had to be Wendy’s. Jess began to hope rather fervently that Hector wouldn’t be at home. She could feel her chest all tight with apprehension, and her hands were suddenly clammy. We shouldn’t have come, she thought. It’s a mistake. She hung back as the others got out, went to the front door and rang the bell. Jess expected that the sound of three slammed car doors and the noise of the bell would elicit some response from those inside, but no one came. She began to relax a fraction.
‘Trust Hannah not to be here,’ Caroline said rather shakily.
Zillah rang the bell again and hammered on the door. Still no one.
Jess felt ridiculously relieved. ‘Oh well,’ she said, ‘better luck next time, eh?’ But Zillah had walked over and was holding up her hands to her face so she could peer in through one of the front windows.
‘There’s someone here,’ she called, ‘a woman lying on a sofa.’
‘Must be Wendy,’ Jess said. ‘Is she asleep? Don’t let’s wake her…’
‘No,’ Zillah said, knocking on the glass. ‘She’s not moving. She doesn’t look right to me. I’m going inside to make sure. I’ll break in if necessary.’
‘Oh,’ Jess protested, ‘do you really think we she…?’
But Zillah had run to the front door and was turning the handle. It opened, and she went inside. Jess and Caroline looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Then they heard Zillah shout and were galvanised into motion themselves. They ran indoors. Wendy, pale and unconscious, was sprawled on the sofa. Her half-shut eyes revealed two white half-moons with no visible irises.
‘Overdose,’ Zilla said, indicating the empty pill bottle and the half-drunk whisky.
‘Oh my God!’ Jess cried. ‘We must get an ambulance!’
‘Better idea,’ Caroline said, ‘and quicker. We’ll drive her straight to Casualty. Here, help me carry her out to the car. Bring the pill bottle!’
Even with three of them working together, Wendy was remarkably heavy and floppy. They managed to ease her into the back seat of Jess’s car, and Zillah got in as well to support her head. Jess was about to get into the driving seat, when Caroline stopped her.
‘No, I’ll drive, and Zillah can look after Wendy. You stay here, Jess. Someone has to break the news to Hector, and you’re the best person for that job.’
‘But…’ Jess began, ‘what about Hannah?’
‘Hannah can wait. This is more important.’
‘But…’ Jess said again. Caroline was inside her car and had started the engine. ‘You’ll let me know what…?’ Jess’s voice tailed off.
‘We’ll see you at the hospital,’ Caroline called, winding down the window and moving off, ‘just as soon as you and Hector can make it. OK?’
Then they were gone. Jess sat down suddenly on the front doorstep, feeling weak and shivery and utterly useless.
Chapter 24
Hector got back from golf in a good mood. It had been a hard fought match but he had played better than usual, and his final putt had been a positive triumph! He hummed to himself as he drove up his drive with a flourish. Then he remembered Wendy as he parked in front of the garage, and thought, Oh Lord, I hope to goodness she’s got herself together by now. I just don’t know what to say to the woman when she’s in this mood. He got out of the car and was just closing the door, when Morgan dashed out of the house, followed by Hannah.
‘Dad!’ Morgan shouted, ‘we’ve got to go to the hospital NOW! Mum’s O.D.’d’
‘What?’ Hector didn’t understand. ‘Jess? What are you doing here?’ She had also emerged. She looked pale and agitated.
‘Drive us to the hospital, Hector,’ she said. ‘I’ll explain as we go.’
After she had told him what Wendy had done, Hector was astonished. He couldn’t believe that his wife would try to kill herself. He said so over and over again, shaking his head in disbelief as he irritably negotiated the crawling Sunday afternoon traffic.
‘You sound, like, cross.’ Hannah observed from the back seat.
‘I’m UPSET,’ Hector retorted, glaring at her through the rear-view mirror. ‘Of course I’m bloody upset!’
He became even more belligerent when the lorry in front of them had a minor collision with a bus going in the opposite direction and blocked the road, holding them up for all of five minutes. When the four of them, stressed and anxious, finally got to Casualty, they found Caroline and Zillah sitting side by side, waiting.
‘She’s going to be all right,’ Caroline said at once, rising to greet them. ‘We got her here in time. They’ve just told us.’
‘You mean she isn’t going to die?’ Morgan asked.
‘No, she’ll be all right.’
Morgan sat down suddenly on one of the waiting room chairs and knuckled his eyelids, and Hannah, ignoring her mother, sat down too and put an arm around his shoulders.
‘Phew…!’ Hector said, letting out a long breath. ‘Well, that is a relief!’ He glanced round. The women seemed to be looking at him strangely. ‘I can’t imagine how you all came to be there at the crucial moment,’ he said. ‘But thank goodness you were!’
‘Oh… I’m just so, so thankful she’ll be OK,’ Jess said in a wobbly voice. ‘If Zillah hadn’t thought to look through that window…I dread to think…’ Then she went over and hugged Caroline. ‘And you were wonderful!’
Hector saw to his surprise that they were both in tears.
‘Look,’ Zillah said, standing up also, ‘I need to talk to you about money, Hector Mudgeley, but now is clearly not the time. I must get home to Alaric.’
‘I’ll drive you,’ Jess said at once. ‘What about you, Caroline?’
‘I’ve got to be back in London tonight, I’m afraid,’ Caroline said. ‘I daren’t stay away any longer. Will you come with me, Hannah?’
‘Gwladys,’ Hannah said without looking up. ‘Of course not. Can’t you see I’m needed here?’
Caroline sighed and prepared to leave, patting her eyes with a tissue from her handbag without smearing her make-up. Jess put an arm through hers and then, reaching for Zillah, linked up with her too, and the three women thus united said their goodbyes.
‘Well thanks again,’ Hector said. ‘I don’t know quite what we should have done without you…’ He was relieved when they’d gone. It had felt almost as if they were ganging up on him! He went over to the desk and asked to see his wife. ‘In a little while,’ he was told, so he went back to sit beside Morgan and Hannah.
Morgan had now recovered himself enough to ask, ‘Why did she do it, Dad?’
‘Who knows,’ Hector said sadly. ‘Mysterious are the minds of womenkind.’
‘She did it,’ Hannah said, turning on him furiously, ‘because of me and Florian. Like, it’s OBVIOUS!’
As Jess drove Zillah and Caroline away from the hospital, she decided she would remain in Somerset for at least one more day. Work would have to be juggled to fit in somehow. She needed to satisfy herself that Wendy was really all right, and Hector too.
‘Let’s take Zillah home first,’ Caroline suggested, ‘and then go back to your flat to collect my things, and then perhaps you could put me on a train, unless you’re planning on driving straight back to London yourself, that is?’
‘No,’ Jess said. ‘I’m staying on for a while.’
The journey back to Zillah’s camp was a much more subdued affair than the outward one. They stopped en route for a quick bite of lunch, and Caroline wanted to hear what had happened to Jess after she and Zillah had taken Wendy to hospital.
‘I waited for what seemed like an eternity,’ Jess told her, ‘and then Morgan and Hannah got back literally minutes before Hector arrived. The kids were all for leaving a note for him and taking Wendy’s car to go straight to Casualty, but luckily he turned up in the nick of time. It would have been so horrible for him to have found out that way.’
‘Oh I don’t know,’ Caroline said rather acidly, sipping coffee and swallowing. ‘He didn’t seem exactly distraught, did he.’
Jess ignored this. ‘I must ask you,’ she said to Zillah, ‘what made you look through that front window? Thank goodness you did, but why?’
‘I had a premonition,’ Zillah said, simply.
After that, no one felt much like small talk, so they finished their sandwiches and got back on the road. When they finally arrived and drew up by Zillah’s caravan, they found Florian sitting nonchalantly on an upturned bucket, drawing lazily on a spliff, with Alaric sitting astride the motorbike, giggling.
‘Where have you been?’ Zillah said to him, getting out of the car.
‘Oh, here and there,’ Florian said easily. ‘But I’m back now, aren’t I?’
‘Only just!’ Alaric slipped in. ‘This bike’s red ho…’ Florian quelled him with a look.
‘And I told you not to smoke dope here!’ Zillah said sharply.
‘So I’ll go somewhere else,’ Florian replied equably. ‘No sweat.’ He got to his feet and wandered off a little way, a tall, thin figure in dirty jeans and a holey, black T-shirt.
His hair looks matted like a shrunken jersey! Jess thought. How does he wash it? Maybe he doesn’t! I’m so glad I don’t have to struggle with a son like that.
‘Well,’ Zillah said to them, at the open car window, ‘that’s that, then.’
‘I’m sorry it all turned out to be so pointless for you,’ Jess said.
‘Can’t be helped. Come and see me next time you’re passing?’
‘Right. Thanks.’
As Jess and Caroline prepared to go, two huge mongrels bounded round the vans and made straight for their car. ‘Watch out!’ Jess called. Caroline let out a squeak of alarm, and they both rapidly wound up their windows. As they drove away, Jess looked in her mirror and saw that Florian had taken charge, and both dogs were now lying on their backs in front of him as he squatted down on the dusty ground, tickling their tummies.
‘Well, I’m not going back there in a hurry!’ Caroline said with feeling.
‘Me neither. How d’you think Florian can afford drugs?’
By the time they got back to Jess’s flat, and Caroline had packed her things, and they’d
phoned for the time of the next train to London, Jess was beginning to feel quite exhausted. She drove her friend to the railway station, and waited for the train to leave. Caroline slid down the window and leant out.
‘Thanks for coming,’ Jess said. ‘I’m only sorry it’s been such a wash-out from your point of view – about Hannah, I mean.’
Caroline made a rueful face. ‘Oh well,’ she said. ‘I suppose I should be grateful she’s not Florian!’ Jess managed a smile. ‘Take care,’ Caroline said, ‘and I’ll see you when you get back.’
The guard raised an arm and blew his whistle. Jess reached up to give her a kiss, and then the carriage began to move. She waved, feeling the tears rising in her eyes, and by the time the train had gathered momentum, she found she was crying in earnest. She walked slowly away, keeping her head down so no one would notice.
The flat seemed very empty when she got back to it. She poured herself a long drink, using up all that was left in Caroline’s bottle of gin, and adding vermouth and tonic to finish them off too. Then she sat in solitary confusion in an armchair and tried to recover her habitual optimism. At least, she said to herself firmly, at least Wendy didn’t die.
The next morning she felt only marginally better. She waited until a reasonably social hour and then rang Hector’s number.
‘Hello? Is that Morgan? Is your father in?’
When Hector came to the phone he grumbled, ‘Jess? It’s only half-past eight! I thought for a moment there was another crisis!’
‘Sorry,’ Jess apologised. ‘I just wanted to know how you are?’
‘Angry,’ Hector said. ‘We’ve been burgled! Must have happened when we were at the hospital. Someone left the front door open.’
‘Oh no!’ Jess felt immediately guilt-stricken. ‘Was much taken?’
‘Only stuff that could be carried easily: Wendy’s jewellery, some money, credit cards, that sort of thing. I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t carry off the telly or the video or my computer as well!’
The Would-Begetter Page 28