by Bell, Julia
“Have you?”
“Sometimes I’ve been tortured by the memory of you. Dear Lord, I never imagined it would be like this.”
I swallowed hard. “I thought you would have forgotten me by now.”
“Never.” One hand slipped down and rested on my swollen stomach, the other arm stayed round me and I linked my fingers through his. “I said I wouldn’t forget you. I told you you’re an important part of my life.”
I started to hurt, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. “Is your wife happy about the baby?”
He caressed my stomach. “She’s very happy.” I turned my face slightly and he rubbed his cheek against the side of my head. “But this will always be our child. The baby we made together,” he said huskily.
I paused slightly before saying, “You mustn’t think like that. It’s the child I agreed to have for you and your wife. Nothing more.”
“Is that all it means to you?” He seemed shocked.
“Yes, Karl. I’m afraid so. I can’t afford to feel any different. You know that.”
I heard him take in a shuddering breath, realising I spoke the truth. “I wish it was different,” he said, kissing my neck.
“How?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, but pulled me closer in a tighter embrace. “It doesn’t matter. It can’t be different.” He sounded bitter.
He dipped into his pocket and pulled out a gold and diamond heart-shaped pendant on a gold chain and fastened the clasp round my neck.
“What’s this?” I asked, as I reached up to touch it.
“A belated birthday present,” he murmured. He glanced over his shoulder. “I must leave before we’re seen together.” I tried to face him. “No, you must promise not to turn round. Please stay as you are. Do you promise me?” I nodded slowly.
He dropped a kiss on my cheek and then I heard the sound of his footsteps as he walked away. Terrible silence followed. I stood still for a long time, staring out over the water, watching a swan skim across the lake, causing a skylark to soar into the brilliant blue sky. I wanted to be that skylark, to fly above the trees and follow my love. I wanted to see where he had gone. But instead I stood there, feeling numb, my emotions torn to shreds. I wished he hadn’t come to me. It was as though he had plunged a knife through my heart. I heard Mrs Holland calling me and I finally turned to smile mistily at the diminutive figure hurrying across the grass towards me.
Nine days later I went into labour. I started in the early hours of the morning and Mrs Holland stayed with me throughout. But by eleven o’clock that same morning, I was ready to deliver the child. After only ten minutes it slipped from me to fill the room with a scream that would have delighted me in any other circumstances.
“It’s a girl, my dear,” said Mrs Holland. “And she’s beautiful.” I looked away and tried ignoring the activity in the room. The baby had been wrapped in a shawl and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs Holland come to the side of the bed, a tiny bundle held in her arms. “Would you like to see her? My lady and gentleman have given their permission.”
“No thank you, Mrs Holland,” I said tersely. “I’m being paid not to see her.”
“Good girl. It’s better that way,” she said and left the room.
I stared blankly towards the window, weariness making my eyes heavy.
I was awoken from a deep sleep by angry voices arguing outside the door.
“I must speak with her.”
“No, sir, I cannot let you pass. Miss Pritchard needs to rest. I’ll not have her disturbed.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes. In God’s name, she’s given me a daughter. The least I can do is thank her.”
“I said no, sir.”
“Damn it, woman! I need to see her.”
“No, sir. You have your child now. You must let Miss Pritchard resume her life and put this all behind her.”
There followed silence and I knew that they had moved away from the door.
“Karl,” I whispered. “Please don’t forget me. I will never forget you, my darling.”
It was sad saying goodbye to Mrs Holland at Waterloo Station. We had been together for a long time, but I had decided that we would not see each other again. I wanted to forget. Our journey home had been uneventful and even the sea voyage on the Ocean Spray had been trouble free. On the train from Portsmouth, I had delved into the pocket of my valise and taken out my wedding ring. I slipped it on my finger and glanced up to see Mrs Holland smiling at me.
“You’ve done very well, my dear. I shall follow your career at Covent Garden with great interest.”
“Thank you. But it feels good to be Mrs Asquith again.”
She nodded and carried on with her knitting.
I hugged her for some time outside the station as the cab driver loaded my luggage.
“I will be sorting out the money as soon as possible,” she whispered. “But if there’s any concern over it, do let me know.”
I climbed into the cab and watched from the window, until the small, stout figure dressed in black disappeared from view.
I couldn’t contain my excitement when we turned into Laurel Close and pulled up outside the house. I knocked on the door, as I had not taken my key to France with me. Nan answered and gave a shriek as I threw myself into her arms. Amidst tears and laughter, we greeted each other, making so much noise that Danny came running from the parlour to see what the commotion was about. With a cry of delight, I caught him in my arms and held him close to me, kissing his cheeks and hands. He clung to me and started talking rapidly.
“You wait until he calms down,” laughed Nan. “He’ll come out with all sorts.”
My child was no longer a baby, he had grown into a little boy while I had been away. I carried him over the threshold amazed at the tiny space that was our hallway. Good grief, I thought with a grimace, how have we managed to live in such a small house? After Chateau St Julienne it was like living in a cupboard. But then happiness swept over me. I was home and that was all that mattered.
“Kettle’s boiling,” said Nan.
We went straight into the kitchen and Nan poured hot water into the teapot.
“Lovely,” I breathed. “They don’t know how to make proper tea in France.”
“So, the ladies academy wasn’t all you thought it would be?”
I shook my head. “It was still teaching music to young girls, who weren’t interested,” I lied.
“What’s your next plan? Advertise for more pupils?”
“I think I’ll go for the scholarship again and then take it from there.”
“Well, your name’s down as I said in my letter.” She gave me a sidelong glance. “You look pale and thinner. I think that French academy has taken it out of you.”
I smiled but didn’t answer. Mrs Holland had advised me to carry on with the pills and tonics she had first prescribed telling me that I would need to build up my health and stamina again. I would of course, but I had a hundred things to do now that I was back in London and I couldn’t wait to get started.
“Mama,” said Danny and I looked down at him sitting on my knee. “What colour are your eyes?”
I nearly fell off my chair in surprise. “Brown, dearest. What colour are yours?”
“Blue,” he said nonchalantly.
I looked at Nan and she gave me a smug smile. She had done a wonderful job.
Five days later I went to the bank where I had made an appointment with the manager. Twelve hundred pounds had been deposited into my account within days of Mrs Holland arriving back in England. Again, I had to admire her efficiency and organising abilities. I couldn’t believe that it was all over, but as I watched the long, thin face of the bank manager advising me about my money, shame swept through me. Was the money tainted? I had sold a child! But if I loved the father of the child I had borne, didn’t that make it all right? I tried to concentrate on the advice given to me.
“Copper is the best investment, Mrs Asquith,” said M
r Williams. “These newfangled telephone contraptions are going to become popular, mark my words. And of course, copper is needed for wiring the telegraph network.”
“Copper then,” I nodded. “What company do you suggest?”
“There’s an excellent one just started up. It’s in Montana, America, in a place called Butte north-west of Yellowstone Park and it’s called,” he looked down at a piece of paper on his desk, “the Anaconda Mining Company. If the initial reports are accurate it seems it’s in a rich copper veined area. Owned by an Irish immigrant by the name of Marcus Daly. Shall we go for that one?”
“What a strange name for a company,” I laughed.
Mr Williams gave a hearty chuckle. “Yes it is, but a nice little business from what I’ve read.”
I thought rapidly, I had done my sums. “Then let’s go for that one.”
“And it’s to be five hundred pounds?”
I nodded.
I had decided to keep money in my account to build up interest and I needed some for my fees and household expenses, but the rest I wanted to invest. Daniel had always said that investing money was the sensible thing to do. Then you get a share in the profits, he had told me. And my darling had been a mineralogist and somehow a copper company seemed the logical thing to invest in. I knew that Daniel would have been pleased. I left the bank dancing on air.
It seemed incredible to be attending the scholarship auditions again, but since my name was on the list, I thought I might as well see it through. How ironic it would be, I thought, if I actually won a place this year. I sat in the impressive foyer with the red and white marble floor tiles and waited my turn. And when my name was called, I went into the theatre and faced the assessors once again.
I sang the old English folksong Cherry Ripe, putting every effort into my performance and at the conclusion, the assessors smiled and told me that their decision would be made the following morning. I made my way home on the omnibus as I had done so many times before, wincing at my choice of song and wondered if the assessors’ smiles had stemmed from pleasure or derision at my elementary choice. But I had wanted to keep it simple and it was a song my pupils used to sing for me.
I was filled with trepidation when I followed the other applicants into the theatre the following morning at ten minutes to ten o’clock. Dear Lord, I thought in alarm, if I win the scholarship then everything I’ve been through this last year will have been for nothing. Karl, Mrs Holland, Chateau St Julienne, the baby, need not have happened. I wondered if I should send the money back to Karl, via Mrs Holland if I did win the scholarship. That would appease my conscience.
But it wasn’t to be. The three names the assessor read out didn’t include mine and I was filled with hysterical relief. It was only when I came back into the foyer that I had the sudden urge to burst into laughter and I was forced to put my hand over my mouth to stifle the giggles. The other candidates looked at me as though I was insane and I quickly ran up the staircase to the administration office. I had to sit and wait for ten minutes until a woman, who I would find out later was a tutor, came to take me into a classroom. She seated herself at the piano and gave me some scales to sing and then asked me to sing any song I wished. I decided to repeat the one I had performed the day before since it was a happy melody. She raised her hand after the first verse.
“Very good, Mrs Asquith. I believe you will make an excellent student at this academy.” I felt pleased and yet rather subdued. Now that I could pay my way, I was acceptable. “Are you married?” Seeing my confusion, she explained, “It’s the policy of the academy always to check that a married woman has the permission of her husband before we admit her on a course.”
I felt offended and it showed. “I’m a widow, ma’am,” I said hotly. “But if my husband were alive he would be more than pleased to give his permission.”
She shrugged indifferently. “I have to ask. Please go and pay your fees to the bursar. His office is just down the corridor. You can start at the beginning of September with the other new students.”
I had done it, but it felt different from what I had expected. I really had changed over the last year. I had lost my impetuousness and fervour. Was it because I had loved two men who had been lost to me? One to a terrible disaster and the other because he was not mine to begin with. Had my life been turned upside down by the failings of the heart? I felt cross with myself and as I travelled home I decided that I must snap out of it. I must concentrate on my dreams to become an opera singer. Wasn’t that what I had striven for? Wasn’t that what I wanted?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“You were successful?” Nan’s face turned almost white with shock.
“Don’t sound so surprised. You said third time lucky.” I tried not to look her in the eye, but gave my attention to Danny who wanted to clamber up on my knee.
“Well done. Goodness me, I’m surprised I must admit. But I’m so pleased.” She kissed my cheek. “So, when do you start?”
“At the beginning of September with the other new students.”
“You’ll have to work hard,” she warned.
“I know that,” I laughed. “And I’m ready to work hard.”
Gwilym came for dinner and was equally surprised and yet delighted with my success. As I watched the faces of my family, I began to feel slightly sick. I was deceiving them and yet what else could I do? I couldn’t tell them the truth. They would have been disgusted with me.
“I’ll have finished my studies by Christmas,” said Gwilym, taking a gulp of the wine he had brought with him. “I’ll be a doctor with letters after my name.”
“What do you intend doing then?” I asked.
“Not sure yet. I suppose I ought to stay on at St Bart’s but I’m going to see how things go.”
As I crawled into bed that night, I spent many hours tossing and turning. I watched Danny sleeping in his cot and felt so happy that I was with him again. I had missed him terribly. My thoughts turned to the coming months. There were two long years ahead of me and I was looking forward to it and yet I felt apprehensive. I would work hard and I would achieve what I had set out to do. But suddenly I wondered if I had paid a heavy price for my ambition. Too heavy a price perhaps? Was I strong enough to bear the consequences of my actions? For at the back of my mind, lingered a terrible thought that everything I had done would come back to haunt me.
How can I explain the next few months? August was spent with my son, since I was determined to give him as much of my time as possible. He was growing into a lovely little boy and we went to the park everyday, feeding the ducks and enjoying the wonderful summer weather. And when September arrived I travelled to The Royal Academy of Music to start my studies. I stood in front of the building for five minutes before entering the doors as a student. The very idea made me gasp with excitement.
I absorbed everything I learnt like a sponge absorbs water. If the tutors had asked me to cut off my small finger, I would have done it. My dedication was unrivalled, my enthusiasm admired by tutors and students alike.
By the time Christmas arrived, I had put the events of that year to the back of my mind, although I found it difficult to dismiss Karl from my memory. I had to force myself not to think of him, but memories surfaced at the most unexpected times and it annoyed me because they caused me such pain. With the start of the festive season I believed I had been successful in blotting out his image. But I hadn’t reckoned on my brother and sister-in-law and their growing concerns for me. That Christmas, the third anniversary of the mining accident, I was to find out that others could feel pain too. And anger. Terrible anger.
Christmas Day began at six o’clock with Danny pulling me downstairs to open his gifts just as he had done on his birthday.
“We have to wait for Uncle Gwilym. He’ll be here soon,” I laughed, holding on tightly to his hand.
“No! No, don’t wait for Uncy Gwily,” he said impatiently.
“Yes, Danny. We must.”
Gwilym could only s
tay for Christmas luncheon, since he had volunteered to take the afternoon duty at the hospital. He was now a qualified doctor and had taken the oath that he would follow for the rest of his medical life, but he hadn’t made a decision about his future yet. I prayed he would stay in London, I couldn’t bear the thought of him moving away.
Danny rushed to the door when the loud rat-tat finally came and I followed him.
“Just in time,” I smiled, giving my brother a kiss and trying to peer at the gifts he carried. “We’re just going to start the vegetables. The turkey is already in the oven.”
He removed his coat and hung it on the peg. “Turkey? How extravagant. I thought it would be sausages with you not earning for the next few years.”
I don’t know if I imagined it but there seemed to be a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
“The butcher is very kind,” I said, ignoring his offhand manner. He went into the kitchen and through the half-open door I saw him give Nan the bottle of wine he had brought and then they seemed to be in heated discussion. “Come on, you two,” I called. “I can’t hold back your nephew any longer.”
They came through into the parlour and although they were laughing they both seemed strained.
“Yes, let’s open our gifts,” said Gwilym, sitting on the floor next to me.
For the next thirty minutes we opened the presents and to my delight, Nan’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw her new Singer sewing machine.
“It’s so lovely,” she sighed. “I hope I can understand the instructions.”
“I’m sure you can,” I laughed. I pointed at the box containing the complete works of Jane Austen. “I’ll enjoy reading these…again.”