Mirrors of the Sea

by Sally Wentworth

  'I don't want to go home yet,' Alys said definitely, but her voice slightly slurred.

  'Let's go back to our place, then,' someone suggested, so they continued the party at a house rented by half a dozen students.

  In university towns, whenever there was a party, however impromptu, somehow word would get around and before long more and more people would turn up, clutching bottles or beer cans. When the venue was absolutely full, they would spill out on to the pavement, then the neighbours either joined in or complained, depending on their mood. That night it was a good party; the police didn't arrive to break it up until almost dawn. Alys drank a lot of cheap plonk, danced with a great many young men who wanted to know if she'd parted from Titus for good and were very keen to take over, but ended up sharing a single bed with two other girls.

  Around seven in the morning Titus arrived, went through the house turning over sprawling bodies, and, when he found her, slung Alys over his shoulder, took her out to the car and drove her home.

  Alys didn't know much about it until he stood her in the shower, clothes and all, and turned on the cold water. She screamed, floundering about, not knowing where she was and trying to get out. But Titus held her in there until she was completely awake and shivering.

  'Now dry yourself and put this on,' he ordered, pointing to a bathrobe. "Then come downstairs.'

  'Can't I go to bed?' Alys pleaded. 'I have a terrible headache.'

  'Serve you damn well right. Come on, hurry up, get your wet clothes off.'

  'You do it for me,' she said hopefully.

  'If I get hold of you I'll give you the spanking you deserve.'

  'Ooooh, kinky.' And she collapsed into giggles.

  But Titus had lost his sense of humour and he shook her angrily, making her wet hair send arching sprays of droplets around the room. Her teeth were chattering from cold and his shaking her made her head ache even more, but it was the fury in his eyes that got through to her, driving some of the fumes from her dulled brain.

  'All right,' she shouted at him. 'Leave me alone.'

  'You'll get changed?'

  'Yes. OK.' He glared at her and Alys was sure that he would have ripped her clothes off if she hadn't promised.

  'Then hurry it up. I want to talk to you.'

  He left her then and she peeled off her wet things but stood under the shower at full heat for a few minutes before drying herself off. She put on pyjamas and the robe, an old one of Titus's that enveloped her like a rug, then wrapped a towel round her damp hair and went downstairs.

  'In here.'

  He had lit the fire in the sitting-room, but the curtains were open, letting in the golden morning light. Alys blinked at it, completely disorientated timewise. She tried to remember what had happened last night but most of it was a merciful blank.

  'Drink this.'

  She sat in a chair by the fire and he handed her a mug of very strong, very black coffee.

  'Can't I have some milk?'

  'Shut up and drink it!'

  She was silent, quelled by his anger.

  'Did you have to go out and drink yourself silly?' Titus demanded after a few moments. 'Couldn't you think of an adult way of expressing your feelings?' She sipped the coffee, looking at him over the edge of the mug. 'Well, have you nothing to say?' Titus asked fiercely.

  'You told me to shut up,' she pointed out, unable to keep a trace of smugness out of her voice, still more than a little tipsy.

  'You little fool!' He took a menacing step towards her and for a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to hit her, but then he clenched his fists. 'Did you have to go and get drunk last night of all nights?'

  He sat down in the opposite chair and Alys stared at him, trying to gather her sozzled wits, trying to gauge his mood. He was angry, yes, but there seemed to be something more. Carefully, trying not to slur her words, she said, 'When that woman phoned tonight—last night, and—and started issuing orders...' She set down the mug and put a hand up to her aching head. 'I was so angry, so unhappy. I just had to get out, away from here. Surely you can understand that?'

  He gave her an exasperated, incensed look. 'You could have stayed and listened to what I had to say, instead of acting like a schoolgirl who'd lost her first boyfriend.' He made an impatient gesture and ran his hand through his hair. 'I suppose I hoped for too much from you.'

  'Yes, you darn well did,' Alys retorted, suddenly firing up. 'When that woman said that you would go on doing what she wanted for the rest of your life—then, yes, I had a right to go out and get sloshed.'

  'She said that?' Titus gave a bitter sigh.

  'Yes, she did.' Alys leaned forward, looking at him intently. 'Is it true?'

  He didn't answer at once, clasping his hands together and bringing them up to cover his mouth as if trying to hold back words he didn't want to speak.

  She was suddenly dreadfully afraid, suddenly very sober. 'Why last night of all nights, Titus?'

  He got to his feet, paced the length of the little room, then turned again. He had always been too big for the house, but now he seemed like an animal in a cage, trapped and angry. Coming to a stop in front of her, Titus looked down, his face drawn. 'Something happened in the past, so long ago that I'd almost put it out of my mind. Perhaps deliberately; I don't know. But now I have to tell you about it.'

  'Have to? Not want to?'

  'No!' The negative was deeply emphatic. 'I hoped never to have to tell you, but now I have no choice.'

  Reaching down, he took her hand. To give her strength or himself? Perhaps both. Alys gripped it very tightly as she got to her feet and faced him. Her hands trembled and she was dreading what he was going to say. He was so reluctant, his eyes so bleak. If it was something really terrible, then how was she going to bear it? Quickly she put her free hand over his lips. 'No, don't. I don't want to know.'

  But Titus shook his head. 'You have to. There isn't any choice. Not now.' He squared his jaw. 'I'm sorry, I would have given anything not to hurt you like this,' he burst out. 'I know that it will upset you and spoil things for a while, but believe me, my darling, I've tried to protect you from it, but it was no use.' He held her hand in both his. 'I can only ask you to listen and then together we'll work it out. If you love me enough ‑'

  'It can be worked out?' she interrupted, and suddenly gave him a wonderful smile. 'Then it can't be that bad, after all. OK, I'll listen.' And she took the towel from her head and tossed it aside, letting her hair fall in a tangled mass of curls to her shoulders.

  The look of love he gave her then was overwhelming, but Titus said ruefully, 'You'd better hear first.' Putting his hands on her arms, he said, 'Alys, I have a son.'

  He felt her go rigid, saw her face become desolate for a moment, then mask-like as she struggled to contain the shock. It was a major inner battle, but somehow she managed to say, 'Well, that's no disgrace nowadays. I take it Camilla is his mother?'

  'Yes. It happened when we were students together. There was a party—much like the one you went to last night, I imagine. We were celebrating the end of our first year. We had too much to drink and, well—you can guess what happened. I went away to Egypt for the long vac. and when I got back I found Camilla—four months pregnant.'

  'Did she want you to marry her?' Alys asked tightly.

  'Yes, but I refused,' he said bluntly. 'I had enough sense to realise that a drunken half-hour wasn't a good basis for a lifetime partnership. We hardly knew each other and we were both only twenty. Neither of us had any money. She insisted on having the child, and I went along with that; I don't believe in abortion. I got a job as a barman at nights and her parents helped so that she could take her degree. Camilla said that she would have the child adopted but when he was born she wanted to keep him. Well, I agreed with that, too, but I'd got to know her well enough by then to know that there was no way I wanted to marry her. So her mother looked after Tim until Camilla took her final exams, then she went back to her home town.'

  'It
was over, then?' She gave him a puzzled look.

  'Except for the maintenance I agreed to pay for eighteen years, yes. Or so I thought. I kept in touch with her, though—after all, Tim was my son. But a year or so later Camilla wrote and said that she'd met someone else and was living with him. They were going to bring the boy up together and she didn't want me to see him ever again. She said she wanted to start a new life, forget me and the past.'

  'And you agreed?' Alys lifted a hand to his brooding face.

  'I felt I had to. I felt I owed her that. But I made her promise to tell the boy about me when he was old enough.'

  'And she said she would?'

  'Oh, yes.' His lip curled for a moment. 'She still wanted me to pay for his upkeep, you see.'

  'But without her husband knowing,' Alys guessed shrewdly.

  'I've no idea, and it didn't matter. But she didn't marry the man; they just lived together.' He paused, and she almost felt him gather his courage for what came next. 'I haven't seen or heard from either of them for the last ten years. Until that time I had to go away; Camilla rang to say that she was having problems with Harry, her partner. She thought it would help if he legally adopted Tim, and she wanted my permission. She insisted that I go down and see her lawyer to sign the necessary papers.'

  He stopped, unwilling to go on, so she prompted, 'But it didn't end there?'

  'No. I thought it had, but it seemed that Camilla suspected Harry of having an affair and was afraid of losing him, so she'd just been using me in the hope of making him jealous. But it had the opposite effect; Harry didn't like me being around, and he especially didn't like Tim finding out who I was. I suppose he thought I was trying to muscle in on his position as Tim's father.'

  'Did you see your son?' Alys asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.

  A strange look of both pleasure and regret chased across Titus's features. 'Very briefly. He's grown into a fine boy.'

  Alys let go of his hands, her face taut.

  He hadn't noticed her withdrawal; there was something more he had to say. 'Things came to a head last night,' he said shortly. 'That's why Camilla kept phoning.' He paused, but Alys suddenly guessed what he was going to say.

  'They broke up,' she said hollowly.

  'Yes. I'm afraid so. Camilla said that the rows had got worse and that Harry had started taking it out on the boy, punishing him for the slightest thing, and even cuffing him a few times. I can't allow that, Alys.' His mouth thinned. 'Camilla's probably exaggerating, but I think there must be some truth behind it. Perhaps Harry did it deliberately so that she would leave. She'd phoned me before, but I tried to keep out of it, for Tim's sake— and for yours of course,' he added.

  Oh, thanks, Alys thought sardonically. She'd been wondering where she came in all this. 'And now?'

  'Yesterday he threw them out. It seems he wants to move his new girlfriend into the house. Camilla came home and found that he'd had the locks changed and her things packed and left out in the driveway. And he'd phoned Tim's school to tell them he wouldn't be paying the fees any more. So naturally she turned to me for help. You do see why, don't you?'

  'Oh, yes, I see perfectly.' Alys was completely sober now; in fact her mind felt brilliantly clear. And she was far ahead of Titus in his story, could see in it far more than he had said, probably far more than he even knew was there.

  'They were living in Harry's place, then?'

  'Yes.'

  'So now Camilla has gone back to her parents,' Alys said, hoping against hope.

  'Her father is dead and her mother is working as a live-in housekeeper at a private house. They have nowhere to go.'

  'But surely Camilla can get a job, find a room somewhere?'

  Titus's voice grew sharp. 'Tim was ill a couple of years ago and needed to be nursed. Camilla had to give up the job she had to be with him.'

  'The Social Services—a council house?' Alys said desperately, fighting for her future.

  'I'm not going to allow my son to be brought up in a cheap bedsit, owing everything to charity,' Titus said on a positive note, a note that Alys knew there was no arguing against.

  Her chin came up and her eyes looked steadily, clearly into his. 'And so?'

  'And so I've told them to come here. It will give Camilla a chance to get over Harry. We can ‑'

  'Here?' Alys's voice was high with tension. 'You mean to this town?'

  His eyes met hers. 'No, I mean to this house, Alys. I offered to put them into a hotel for a week or so, but Camilla said Tim was too upset to face that. She wants somewhere where he can be quiet, and ‑'

  'You envisage this as a long-term arrangement, then?' Alys interrupted stiffly.

  'No, just as long as it takes for Camilla to find somewhere else.'

  'Is that what she told you?' Alys asked on a loud, jeering laugh. 'For God's sake, Titus, open your eyes! Can't you see what she's done? This is what Camilla has been aiming for ever since she saw you again. Maybe it was she who was getting fed up with Harry and wanted to move on. So she thought up a way of bringing you back on the scene—and liked what she saw: a college lecturer, successful, going places, still unmarried. And she realised she had the ideal weapon to get you back— your son!'

  'That's ridiculous,' Titus said shortly. 'Look, there's more to ‑'

  'No, it isn't damn well ridiculous,' Alys flared. 'She's on her way here, isn't she? To live with you. To share your house.'

  'Our house,' Titus corrected. 'And you're wrong. I just want the boy to have ‑'

  'Yes, your precious son. Her excuse for getting back into your life. Why didn't you tell me about him before?'

  'It was in the past. I hadn't seen him for years and didn't expect to see him again. There seemed no point in telling you. I didn't want to upset you.'

  'Well, you darn well have now!' Alys yelled forcefully. 'And if you think I'm going to share a house with your ex-mistress you're crazy. Find her somewhere else to live. Now, today!'

  'It isn't that simple, Alys.' Titus caught her hand. 'I haven't finished telling you about Tim.'

  'I don't want to hear!' Alys dragged her hand away, furiously angry now as she foresaw their lives being completely ruined. 'She's tricked you, can't you see that? If you let Camilla into this house you'll never get her out. She'll make life unbearable for me. She'll come between us just as she is now!'

  'No, I won't let her do that. Never! But I have to let her come and stay here until I can find her a place I can afford.'

  Alys stared at him, her chest heaving with anger, but struggling desperately to control it. 'All right. If that's how it's got to be. But just keep her away for the next week, then we'll be going to Egypt and she can have the house till we get back. That will give—Tim time to recover and they can ‑' She stopped, suddenly aware of the tension in Titus's face. 'What is it?' she asked with a great sense of foreboding.

  His voice strained, Titus said, 'I'm sorry, Alys, the trip to Egypt will have to be delayed.'

  Alys stared at him, appalled. 'Because of her, of Camilla?'

  Titus gave a deep sigh, then said on a fierce note of bitter anger, 'Yes, damn it, it is. And there's nothing I can do about it, Alys, so please don't let's quarrel over this. I'm sorry. I know you were looking forward to Egypt—do you think I wasn't?'

  Sick with disappointment, Alys said, 'How should I know? I'm not sure of anything about you any more. I thought you cared about me. I thought my happiness was important to you.'

  'It is. You know it is.'

  'Then prove it. Tell Camilla to go to hell and take me to Egypt as you promised,' she pleaded urgently. 'Say you will, Titus. Say you will.'

  She tried to force him to say what she wanted by her own vehemence, by her own desperate need, but there was only a long, painful silence before Titus said heavily, 'Please, Alys, don't do this. I can't leave England right now. Perhaps in a few weeks...'

  'Damn you, Titus. Camilla's wrong when she says that you owe her. You don't! It's up to her to sort out her ow
n mess. Let the boy come here if you must, but not her. Not her!'

  Titus reached to take her hands. 'It has to be both of them. You see, Tim hasn't ‑'

  'No, I don't want to hear!' She wrenched her hands away, tears of mingled anger and disillusionment running down her cheeks. But it was for far more than the lost holiday that she wept.

  He let her cry for a while, then Titus said bleakly, 'Sweetheart, maybe it would be better if you stayed with your parents for a few weeks. I'll sort something out and—'

  'Maybe it would be better if I stayed with them for keeps,' Alys shot back. 'Maybe it would be better if I'd never damn well met you!'

  His face hardened. 'If you'll just listen to me and let me explain. You see, Camilla ‑'

  'Camilla! Camilla!' Alys shouted with fury. 'I'm tired of hearing about her. Can't you see that she's tricked you? I'm sure it wasn't just coincidence that she told you about Harry's mistreatment of your son just as we were going to go away together. Look at the facts, Titus. Think!'

  He stared at her for a moment but then shook his head. 'It may look that way, but ‑'

  'It is that way!' she yelled at him. 'Don't let her do it, Titus. Don't let her come here, come between us. Please!'

  'It won't be like that.'

  'Yes, it will. I know it will.' Alys put her hands on his chest, desperate to get through to him. 'I'm not going to let that happen, Titus. I'm not going to stay here and let her destroy us. You've got to choose. Her or me.'

  'No, that's idiotic. If you'll just be patient for a few weeks until ‑'

  Gritting her teeth, Alys got hold of him and shook him. Her eyes blazed into his, imploring but steadfast. 'Her or me, Titus.'

  'It isn't a question of Camilla. I'm doing this for Tim.'

  'He's part of her. You'll never separate them. You've got to choose. Put them out of your life again and come to me—and the children I can give you.'