The Fleeting Years

by Connie Monk

  But Fiona had already moved on to the next thing, pleased that she’d remembered to ask about the fiddle and not realizing she hadn’t listened properly to Zina’s reply.

  ‘Tell Dad I hope King Lear soon gets put to bed. It’ll be great when he comes out. I’ll get Heila to rent the apartment again. Can’t you just imagine it, it’ll be a blast, me and Dad together. We’re almost there. I’ve got my key out ready. Have a good flight, Mum. It’s been great, hasn’t it?’ Then with a giggle she couldn’t suppress, she added, ‘Back home, think how you’ll be able to boast about all the famous people you’ve met. He’s slowing down; we’re nearly there. I’ll give you a hug in the cab and then get out quietly so I won’t wake them at this ungodly hour. Give my love to Tom and Dad and tell them I’ve got lots to show them when they come.’ Then a hug and she was out on the pavement – or the sidewalk as she would have called it.

  So Zina went home thankfully to England and to Peter, as sure as he had been that as long as Fiona was with Heila they had no cause to worry about her. A few more months and the curtain fell for the last time on King Lear. True to his word Peter flew out. Perhaps for him the visit was easier, he was at home in the world that seemed to have turned Fiona’s head and to have a fortnight sharing an apartment with her was a new and rewarding experience. Perhaps he was able to see beyond her enthusiasm for celebrity and all people famous; or perhaps she didn’t feel the need to impress him by dropping well-known names into the conversation at every opportunity as she had with her mother. He had set out on the trip uncertain what her rise to stardom would have done to their old relationship; but half an hour with her and he knew that nothing had changed for them. They both loved the intimacy of cooking their own breakfast, of having deep and serious conversations about the way she hoped her career would go. Her one disappointment was when she tried to persuade him to rethink his decision about coming to Hollywood she found that he was not to be moved.

  As time went on, Peter went for a brief spell whenever he was ‘resting’ and once each year Zina spent two weeks in California, usually planning the visit to fit into Tom’s programme as his own career developed, not in the blaze of glory that had accompanied Fiona’s but with engagements as a soloist in programmes of minor orchestras. The lives of the twins had moved in different directions and as they approached adulthood they lost the closeness that had held them apart from the rest of the world in childhood.

  Nine

  ‘They make a handsome – beautiful – couple,’ Zina spoke softly to Peter, although in the loud buzz of voices it was unlikely anyone would have noticed what she said even if she had shouted.

  ‘Good looking, yes. But I think you’re jumping the gun, handsome young men are pretty commonplace out here. I don’t know what sort of life partner I would expect for her but I’ve never considered looks would be near the top of her priorities.’ As he answered he was looking to the far corner of the large room where Fiona and Ivor Huntley were talking together. The godlike young man, with his fair hair and bronzed good looks had been her co-star in Out of the Shadows, which had had its premier that evening, culminating in this party. With Peter, Zina had attended many parties in England following premiers of his films, but none had had the aura of glamour (and to her mind artificiality) that surrounded her here in Hollywood. Always she had felt herself to be among friends even if she had been meeting many of them for the first time; here she felt no more than Peter’s appendage, plain and dowdy despite having spent the afternoon having her hair ‘tarted up’ as she thought of it and wearing an evening dress that had cost what she considered quite immoral. For Peter it was different; he was recognized and respected in his own right not simply as Fiona’s parent.

  What were they doing? Fiona and Ivor had stepped up onto a dais at the end of the room, standing hand-in-hand until he literally yelled to make himself heard above the clamour. ‘Quiet, everyone. I have an important announcement to make.’

  ‘Christ, no!’ Peter whispered. ‘No, it can’t be that.’ Zina took his hand in hers but he didn’t seem to notice. Fortunately the eyes of the other partygoers were on the couple on the dais so only she saw the anguish in his expression.

  ‘Tonight you have watched Fiona and me on the screen and seen just how well we slot together,’ he said, ‘and now I’m inviting you to come one stage further with us.’ Then, down on one knee while Fiona held her left hand to be taken in his, he said, ‘Fiona Marchand will you be my wife?’

  ‘I will,’ Fiona answered, with all the solemnity of a marriage service, at which he produced a ring from the inside pocket of his dinner jacket and slipped it onto her finger and the press cameras flashed. Then, with a complete change of mood and a hint of the Fiona of old, she stated, ‘But when I make up my mind what I want, I want it now. I want to be married while my parents are visiting from England – Peter Marchand, did you all know he was my father? They go back to England at the weekend.’

  ‘Tonight is too soon to fix it, but I’ll see about it first thing in the morning,’ Ivor answered with all the charm that was sending him to the top of the popularity charts.

  Looking at Peter, Zina tightened her grip on his hand. The tic in his cheek was working overtime and, before he tightly closed his eyes, she saw the tears well up.

  ‘Darling,’ she whispered, again quite unnecessarily for everyone else in the room seemed to have sprung to life and pushed to get close to the happy couple with their congratulations, ‘we mustn’t judge him, we don’t even know him yet. She’s not stupid; she must love him.’

  Her words must have broken through his misery for she felt his answering grip of her hand as he answered, ‘Pray God you’re right. Your father must have said much the same to Mother-in-law,’ he added, trying to force a note of hope into his voice. ‘But she’s a child still, an excited child thrilled with where life has brought her.’

  ‘She is no child. How can she be after the years she’s been out here. We ought to go and meet our future son-in-law. Try and put on a brave face, for her sake, Peter. Good or bad, we are always there for her. And just because we don’t know him, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t worth knowing. Let’s push to the front and give her the blessing she deserves.’

  They did their best. Recognizing Peter and knowing Fiona was his daughter, the well-wishers made way for them and he proved his acting skills as he congratulated Ivor and held his beloved Fiona in a bear-like hug.

  The wedding was arranged for the following Friday and everything went off according to plan, press photographers having a field day. When Zina and Peter returned to England the following day the young couple went with them. They didn’t come to Devon but took a cab from Heathrow to London, promising to visit before they returned to the States.

  ‘You’d think the first thing she would have done would have been to go to hear Tom play, or at any rate to see him if she didn’t want to go to the concert,’ Peter said as he switched on the engine and started to drive out of the long stay car park. ‘He’s playing in Manchester on Tuesday but she says they have things to do in London. What can be more important than seeing Tom? He’ll be dreadfully hurt.’

  ‘Maybe all brides can think only of themselves. And to be fair, this is their honeymoon. How many couples spend their honeymoons visiting relatives, no matter how dear? A week ago none of us would have anticipated any of this.’ Zina was as unhappy about the marriage as Peter, and yet she couldn’t really say why. Ivor seemed pleasant enough, albeit conceited. But then probably most young men in his position would have been the same. There weren’t many Peters in the profession.

  ‘Please God she’s done right. Is there any substance to the fellow?’ he muttered more to himself than to her.

  ‘And that’s history repeating itself if ever I heard it. And see how wrong my parents were. They didn’t know you any more than we know Ivor. It’s hard for parents to trust their children’s judgement but, Peter, Fiona has always calculated what is right for her; she’s nobody’s fool.’r />
  His answer was a grunt.

  Back in Devon, Zina went to see her mother, prepared for her attitude to be much the same as Peter’s – and her own too if she were honest. But Jenny surprised her.

  ‘Sometimes the young ones understand each other better than the next generation can. You say she’s happy?’

  Zina thought before she answered. ‘Almost too happy. I think that’s what worries me; I feel there is something not quite right. She’s not content, she – she’s – I can’t think how to explain.’

  ‘Could it be that she’s just being Fiona? Contentment isn’t part of her make-up, always she’s been wanting to be off to the next thing. Marriage may be the making of her.’

  Zina laughed. ‘Never let her hear you say that, Mum, “be the making of her”, I mean. Wife and mother would be bottom of her list of priorities. I suppose that’s what worries me. When I married Peter and found so soon that I was pregnant, for me marriage came first, there was no contest. And yet, until then, music had always been my guiding star. When, or should I say if ever, she finds she’s pregnant I believe she would be devastated.’

  ‘That may not be for years; she’s young. Just wait until the time comes, my dear. Nature sorts all these things out – something to do with these hormones people talk such a lot about these days. We never used even to hear the word, but now it seems an excuse for everything.’

  After a week in London the newly-weds came to Newton House and Tom joined them for three days. It should have been wonderful. Peter wasn’t due to start rehearsing Macbeth for another fortnight so, surely these few days were something they had dreamed of for years. Except that Ivor never passed a mirror without glancing at his reflection there was nothing to dislike in him and he was obviously under Fiona’s spell. So why did Zina have such a feeling that all wasn’t well? It might have stemmed from something in Fiona’s manner. She seemed to be on edge; her smile too bright and her laugh too loud. They were due to go back to California on the last Sunday in June, just the time when Peter had planned to return to the flat in London ready for rehearsals. So Zina decided to go to the flat with him, then together on the way they could see the young ones off at Heathrow. Late afternoon of the day before they were due to leave Fiona went to find Zina in the garden where she was scratching around on the rose bed looking for any weed daring to rear its head.

  ‘Mum, I’ve got to talk to you. There’s something I have to tell you.’

  Fear gripped Zina, but fear of what she didn’t know.

  ‘We’re in an awful mess, Mum. I can’t go back to work like I am. I’m pregnant.’ There! She’d said it and immediately some of the fog of misery lifted.

  ‘But you can’t know yet, not for certain. Maybe if you’re late it’s because—’ she said the first thing that came into her head while she was gripped with a sick feeling of fear. It couldn’t be true, not in these days of the pill. Fiona was too wise.

  ‘Oh Mum, don’t be so pathetically naive. I’m not stupid,’ the girl snapped. ‘I thought you would have guessed when I wanted us to be married so quickly and come over to England.’

  ‘It never entered my head. You said the wedding was because we were out there with you. How late are you?’ But what a stupid question; for clearly Fiona was late enough to have no doubts. ‘You can’t be very late, you don’t show at all.’

  ‘I’m pretty well up to missing for the third time. And I hate it,’ she croaked, on the verge of tears. ‘I don’t want it. I hate it, Mum. Everything was so perfect and now this has happened and it will all be ruined. I’ll get fat and ugly.’

  Ignoring her outburst Zina asked, ‘How does Ivor feel about it? Can’t he make you see that having a baby is – yes, it’s life-changing – but Fiona, it’s wonderful.’

  ‘That’s rot! It’s a bloody disaster. It’ll mean I can’t work for months and months, not till I’ve had the brat and got my body in shape again – if I ever do. It’s my own fault. I hadn’t wanted marriage, we were having a wonderful time. But it’s my own fault. We went away for two or three days and I guess I had more to drink than I realized and I forgot all about taking the pill. Just one night without it and this happens. If I’d thought about it the next day perhaps I could have taken something, done something, heaven knows what, but I couldn’t even remember going to bed and it wasn’t until I got late that I realized that was when it must have happened.’

  ‘What does Ivor say? How does he feel about it?’

  ‘He wanted us to get married anyway. But until this happened I’d said no, we had the best of all worlds as we were. With the pill I had no worries and the thing that mattered most to me was a career.’ A sob caught in her throat, but she fought it. ‘Now see what’s happened to me. It’s not fair. My boobs feel hard and gross and look disgusting, got veins showing on them – already without my clothes on I look beastly.’ Then she gave a loud and out of character sniff and wiped the back of her hand over eyes and nose. ‘That’s why we went to London instead of coming straight here. I had an appointment to see a top-of-the-tree gynaecologist. I’d read that some people could get abortions in England – and anyway no one knew me here, I couldn’t possibly have tried in the States, the papers would have got hold of the story and that might have been the end of me. So we went to London and I was sure that he would get me right. But he refused. Talked a lot of bilge. Examined me, asked me loads of questions about my health. He didn’t know who I was, I said I was Fiona Cripps—’ and here she surprised Zina by giving what was almost a chuckle when she thought of the cleverness of her name – ‘and that I had been using the pill ever since my husband and I had been together, but one night I forgot and I begged him that surely one slip ought not to ruin my life. Don’t know how he had the cheek to charge for the time I wasted with him. He said I was the right age to have my first child – first! First and last! – and gave me a lot of codswallop about how much love a baby brought to a marriage. Stupid git!’

  ‘Fiona love, he spoke a lot of sound sense. Supposing he’d given you an abortion and something had gone wrong. Giving up a career for a baby might seem hard now, but you won’t have to give up for ever.’

  ‘You’re darned right I won’t. You did, but then that was different. There are masses of violinists, whether one person plays or another can’t matter. But in films it’s different; it’s important to keep in the public eye. All I’ve done in the past will get forgotten. It’ll be ages before I can start again. Being in films is what I’ve wanted as long as I can remember and it was all like a dream come true. Now it’s all going to be spoilt.’ She lost the battle and her face crumpled as she cried and felt herself taken in her mother’s arms. ‘I’ve got to tell Dad and he’ll be – he’ll be angry at Ivor – and worse than that he’ll be disappointed and hurt. Don’t want to hurt Dad.’ Her words moved Zina more than any angry outburst could.

  ‘Do you want to tell him yourself or would you rather I did? What about if we wait and I tell him when you and Ivor have gone?’

  ‘Gone?’ The suggestion had had the effect of stopping her crying. ‘But don’t you see? I can’t go back out there getting to look more like a barrel every day. We’ve got our plan all sorted out. Ivor will go back tomorrow like we booked and he will say that I am following when I’m better but I have been feeling dreadful, he expects I’ve got a tummy bug of some sort. Then in a few weeks he can tell them that I’m still groggy and the doctor has confirmed that it’s the early part of being pregnant. He’ll say that you and Dad are worried about me and for the time being I’m staying on here because I’m having such a bad time I can’t face the long flight. He’ll make it very plausible, Mum; use all his skills. He has to get back because he is lined up to start filming in a week or so.’

  ‘Well,’ Zina said, her cool tone seeming to draw a line under the subject, ‘you appear to have it all sorted out.’

  ‘It seems the best thing to do. This is my home. I thought you’d want me here.’

  ‘Of course we want you
here, Newton House is our family refuge. And once Peter has had time to digest what we tell him, he will be over the moon.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Can I borrow your hanky? Thanks.’ She scrubbed it over her tear-smudged face then passed it back with a smile that appeared more natural than Zina had seen since she arrived. How was it that after crying as she had, she wasn’t left with bloodshot eyes? ‘Now, I’ll tell you what, Mum. We’ll be kind to Dad, we’ll tell him that I’ve been feeling groggy, been sick in the mornings, we’ll pile it on. Actually a couple of months ago it was the truth, every morning when I got out of bed I had to rush to the loo to be disgustingly sick like some dirty drunkard in the gutter. Revolting. Anyway Dad needn’t know any of that, we’ll tell him the same story as later Ivor will tell our friends back home.’

  ‘Oh no we won’t! Peter is to be told the truth. Not until Ivor has gone. Tomorrow you can stay in bed in the morning and I’ll see them off and say I’m staying here with you because you don’t feel well. But once Ivor has gone Peter will be told the whole truth. And so will my mother. We can’t build a baby’s life on a foundation of lies.’

  ‘Don’t see why not. Dad won’t like it. You won’t be doing him any favours.’

  ‘Lying is never a favour.’

  That night lying in bed it took all Zina’s willpower not to tell Peter the whole story, but she kept silent.

  ‘Are you OK, Zee? I’ve been watching you, you haven’t seemed yourself at all this evening?’

  ‘I suppose it’s because the youngsters are going tomorrow.’ How she hated saying it. But as soon as she could talk to him properly she would confess tonight’s lie as well as the whole miserable tale. The important thing was that there wasn’t trouble between Peter and Fiona’s husband just as they were parting.