A Village Dilemna (Turnham Malpas 09)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  Beth shuddered. ‘I’ve never seen a ghost in there.’

  ‘Neither have I, but I’d like to.’ Alex made ghost noises and waved his arms at Beth, who hit him hard on his leg. ‘That hurt!’

  ‘Good, you know I don’t like scary things.’

  ‘Stop it the two of you! I want my meal in peace.’ Caroline soothed Alex’s leg with her hand and mouthed a kiss to him.

  Peter said, ‘After we’ve eaten I’m going to catch up on the parish photo album. I’d be glad of some help.’

  Both Alex and Beth volunteered.

  With his mouth full of food Alex muttered, ‘It’s ages since we did it, Dad. Mr Prior came the other day with a load. He likes being our photographer. He said he’d been taking parish photos since he was twelve. That’s positively historical.’

  Peter laughed. ‘Well, that means he’s been doing it for about sixty years.’

  ‘Sixty years! He’s seventy-two, then. That’s old.’

  ‘We did have a lady called Mrs Gotobed and she lived to one hundred. She died about a year after you were born. Now that really is old.’

  Peter noticed, but the children didn’t, that Caroline had gone quiet. Without her the three of them chattered on about age, and grandparents and what changes Mrs Gotobed had seen in her lifetime. Without speaking Caroline served the cheesecake Sylvia had made for them before she left that afternoon. When the time came to clear up she said, ‘We’ll clear the table and then you can start on the albums in here. I’ve some letters to write. I’ll leave you to it.’

  Quite deliberately and with every intention of getting his own way Peter said, ‘I think it would be nice if you helped us, darling. The children and I haven’t seen you all day. How about it?’

  ‘I’d rather get the letters written.’

  ‘I know you would, but they can be done any time.’

  ‘No, really, I must get them written.’ Caroline folded the tablecloth and went to switch on the dishwasher. ‘You always do it, the three of you.’

  ‘Get the albums out, children, and find Mr Prior’s envelope. They’re on their special shelf in the study.’

  As the children darted off on their errand Peter went behind Caroline to put his arms round her. He nuzzled her hair and held her close. ‘It’s got to be the two of us. It mustn’t look like something you can’t talk about. It needs to be in the open between us all.’

  ‘You’ve sprung it on me; it’s not fair.’

  ‘I just feel the moment is ripe.’ Peter turned her round to face him. ‘It has to be faced.’

  Alex came back in, staggering under the weight of the albums, with Beth coming up behind carrying Mr Prior’s envelope.

  Peter released Caroline and went to pull out a chair for her. ‘Here you are, darling, you sit here.’

  She couldn’t refuse, it would be too obvious. But when you’ve kept a secret for more than ten years … ‘OK, then.’

  ‘Is there a photo of old Mrs Gotobed, Daddy? Which one will it be in? This newest one?’

  ‘No, the last full one.’ He stood up and heaved the one he wanted out from the bottom. ‘Here we are. This one.’ Eventually he found Mrs Gotobed in a Harvest Festival photograph taken, he guessed, about two years before she died. ‘There she is with her daughters, Lavender and Primrose. Both very dear ladies.’

  Alex burst out laughing. ‘Lavender and Primrose. Help!’

  Beth peered at the photograph through Peter’s magnifying glass. ‘I think they’re very pretty names. Look how old she is. Just look. All wrinkly and thin. She looks like a little bird. Like a wren.’

  They played a game of guessing who all the other people were in the photo and then Peter let them ramble along through the pages till they came to the page he wanted them to look at.

  ‘These are of the village show. Nineteen ninety-one, I think. Yes. Can’t quite read it.’ The two of them identified several people, including Lady Bissett wearing an astonishing hat, and Venetia from the Big House when she was going through her Quaker dress period. Then Peter said casually, ‘There’s someone there who belongs to you.’

  ‘Belongs to us?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Just us?’

  ‘Yes. You and Alex.’

  Alex looked hard at the picture. ‘Is it Grandma and Grandad? I can’t see them.’

  ‘No. It’s this lady here.’ He pointed to someone with long fair hair, wearing a smart red-and-white dress and obviously serving behind a stall.

  Beth protested she didn’t know her. ‘Do I know those three girls sitting on the grass in front? They don’t go to school.’

  ‘That’s their mother standing behind the stall. They’d be too old now for your school, wouldn’t they, Caroline?’

  Alex asked, ‘Who are they? What are they called?’

  Caroline answered his question. ‘Daisy, Pansy and Rosie. That’s Daisy, that’s Pansy, I think, and the little one kneeling up is Rosie. They’ll be something like eighteen, sixteen and fourteen now.’

  Beth found the tone of her mother’s voice oddly unlike her normal one, but still she had to ask, ‘But they don’t live here. I’ve never seen them, so how can they belong to us.’

  Peter took the plunge. ‘They were three lovely girls, so sweet and pretty and shy. I expect they still are. They are actually related to you, they’re your half-sisters.’

  ‘Really? Honestly?’ Beth was intrigued.

  Alex was more cautious. ‘What does that mean?’

  Caroline was sitting with her hands resting on the table, gripped tightly together, her head down. Suffering. ‘They have the same mummy as you.’ Alex hid his shock while he worked out whether it meant what he thought it did.

  Beth thought this over for a moment, took the magnifying glass and carefully inspected the girls and the lady standing behind the stall. ‘So where’s their daddy? Is he here somewhere?’

  ‘He didn’t used to join in things. He was a scientist and always preoccupied.’

  ‘So there’s not just Alex and me. There’s Daisy, Pansy and Rosie. That’s five of us.’

  ‘I expect you could say that.’ Peter added, ‘They left the village, though.’

  ‘Where have they gone?’ It was Beth doing all the asking; Alex had withdrawn from the conversation.

  Caroline, in fear she might ask to go to see them, said, ‘A long way away.’

  Still peering through the magnifying glass Beth said, ‘The mummy looks pretty. I like her hair. It’s the same colour as mine and her cheeks are round like mine. Oh! Just like mine!’ She glanced at Caroline as though assessing whether or not there was anything of Caroline in her own face.

  Alex, by now, was standing beside Caroline, his face inscrutable.

  Peter said, ‘Yes.’

  Then Beth asked the question Caroline had been dreading. ‘Daddy, could we see them some time?’

  ‘Perhaps when you’re eighteen.’

  ‘You always say that. You said the same when I wanted my ears pierced and when I wanted to wear make-up. Well, I shall wear it before I’m eighteen, Daddy. I’m sorry but I shall.’ Still scrutinising the photograph, Beth came to a splendid conclusion. ‘I wish we could see a photo of those flower girls’ daddy, then Alex could see if he’s like him.’

  ‘He wouldn’t be like him, though, would he?’

  Beth stared hard at him. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m your daddy.’

  ‘Oh, of course you are. I’m getting awfully muddled.’

  Peter was trying to lead them to their own understanding of the situation but felt he was floundering. He turned to Alex and said, ‘You’re very quiet, young man.’

  ‘Just thinking.’

  ‘I see. Come and have a look at the flower girls. Come on.’

  Alex shook his head and pointed to Beth. ‘No, thanks. They’re not really my sisters. She’s my sister.’

  Beth, still greatly intrigued by her discoveries, ignored him and asked, ‘So what’s her name?’

  ‘W
hose?’

  ‘The flower girls’ mummy.’

  ‘Suzy Meadows.’ There, it was out, thought Caroline. She’d said the name she’d dreaded to hear on the children’s lips.

  ‘Suzy. Suzy. Suzy Meadows.’ Beth repeated it time and time again until Caroline’s head swirled with it and she blurted out, ‘She was a lovely, kind, generous person.’

  ‘You knew her, Mummy?’

  ‘Of course. I asked her if I could have you both. She knew there was no way she could feed and clothe three children and look after two new babies and earn money for them all.’

  Beth, who’d been kneeling on her chair to get a better view, shuffled down on to her bottom and looked set for hearing a story. ‘Go on, then.’

  ‘Well, I knew she was expecting twins and I knew her husband had died and she already had three girls to bring up, so I asked her if she could possibly let us have you.’

  Alex, ever sensitive to his mother’s mood, put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her and leant his weight against her.

  ‘She said that was what she had planned and she wanted us to take you.’

  ‘So she gave us to you.’ Beth’s eyes grew wider. ‘Did she love us?’

  ‘I know she did.’ Caroline put an arm round Alex’s waist and hugged him, as much for his comfort as for her own. ‘You were born first, darling.’

  ‘Then me?’

  ‘Alex was screaming his head off, really screaming.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘No, you were all quiet and composed, and you were sucking your thumb even then.’

  Rather smugly Beth reminded her she’d stopped now.

  ‘I know, but you were then. You were small and neat and beautiful.’

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘Alex, I remember thinking what big feet you had and that you were long and gangling. I thought to myself, he’s definitely Peter’s boy and he’s going to be just as big.’

  Alex posed as he’d seen strong men pose and Beth laughed. ‘I was beautiful! You weren’t.’

  ‘He was, just as beautiful. You were both beautiful.’

  ‘Did the Suzy person think we were beautiful?’

  Caroline was instantly back in that delivery room witnessing Suzy’s bravery. Felt again her own extreme joy mixed with the terrible fear that Suzy wouldn’t be able to part with them. How had Suzy lived through it? Should she tell them Suzy couldn’t bear to look at them, fearful that she wouldn’t be able to give them up if she did? Caroline hesitated while she weighed up the merits of telling or not. ‘She was so full of pain at giving you up to your daddy. So full of pain.’ Without warning Caroline was crying. Unspoken and unrecognised anxieties tore to the surface and ten years of persuading herself that now she had the children it didn’t matter about not being able to bear children of her own, that it didn’t matter about Peter’s unfaithfulness, all came pouring into the open along with her tears. She was inconsolable. Her heartrending, gut-wrenching sobs shocked them all.

  ‘My darling girl! Hush! Hush!’ Even Peter’s arms round her gripping her firmly didn’t assuage her distress.

  The children clung to her and Beth wept. ‘I’m sorry, Mummy, I didn’t mean …’

  ‘Come on, Mum. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.’

  But she did cry. She’d been too brave all along. In her gratitude for the chance to take the children for herself she’d been too accepting of what had happened. She should have raged and stormed, and made Peter’s life hell. She’d no idea that all of it, the whole terrible mess, had been secretly boiling and bubbling in her and the tears pouring down her cheeks, for herself and for Suzy and for the children, wouldn’t stop coming.

  ‘Darling, you’re frightening the children. Please. Please.’

  Alex couldn’t bear to hear her anguished weeping. He closed up the flower girl photo album with a bang and carried all the albums back to the study. But instead of putting them neatly on the shelf where they always sat he flung them to the floor and kicked them across the carpet. Then he went back into the kitchen and picked up the envelope with Mr Prior’s latest contributions, took it into the study, shook the pictures out all over the floor and stamped on them in a wild frenzy. If Beth didn’t understand what had happened he did. Stamp. Stamp. Dad had done with Suzy what you did to get children, like Miss Pascoe had explained, like Dad had explained, too, very simply, years ago. Stamp. Stamp. Stamp. Which Beth seemed to have forgotten all about. Stamp. Stamp. Who cares about half-sisters and all that rubbish, they were old anyway. Stamp. Sta— He stuck his fingers in his ears so he couldn’t hear his mother’s sobbing. She loved him tons more than someone who could give him away. His heart felt as though it had broken into a thousand pieces. Slowly his own tears surfaced and ran down his cheeks, and he locked the study door so no one could discover him crying. Alex felt so alone; more deeply distressed and perplexed than he had ever been in all his life.

  Peter, later that evening, went to his study and found the albums and the photographs lying where Alex had left them. He realised then, as he had suspected, that this was Alex’s reaction to understanding fully the implications of what he’d learned, whereas Beth had only accepted without appreciating what was behind it all. Caroline was in bed, exhausted, and at last he’d got the children to bed too, though whether they would sleep … The trauma, brought about by the disastrous revelations, was mind-numbing.

  He knelt down and began to pick up the pictures, straightening out the more crumpled ones and wondering what on earth he could say to Arthur Prior about them. Small matter, compared with what he had to face now. A son who probably loathed him and a daughter more confused than she deserved. And a wife … it didn’t bear thinking about how she felt. Peter paused for a moment and felt again the pain of Alex not being able to look him in the eye.

  There was the sound of someone on the stairs. At the moment he didn’t think he could cope with anyone, but they were coming down whatever he thought. Standing in his navy-and-white pyjamas in the study doorway was Alex. ‘I can’t sleep, Dad.’

  ‘Come and sit on the sofa. I won’t be a moment doing this.’

  ‘Sorry I made that mess. Beth’s asleep in your bed and Mum’s asleep too.’

  ‘That’s good. They’ll feel better in the morning.’

  ‘Dad …’

  Peter reached across to put Arthur’s envelope on the shelf and then stood up. ‘Yes.’

  A frightened face looked up at him. ‘Did you do it on purpose? To get a baby for Mum?’

  ‘That’s how it turned out.’

  Alex didn’t allow his eyes to look at his father. ‘So it wasn’t on purpose for a baby for Mum?’

  ‘No.’

  Vehemently Alex declared, ‘I don’t want to see them, those girls, nor that Suzy person, even if Beth does. You won’t make me, will you?’

  ‘Of course not. Only if you wish. For Mum’s sake … I’m glad you don’t.’

  ‘Dad … does everyone in the village know? About us.’

  ‘At the time they didn’t, then they did, but they never say a word and for that I have always been very thankful.’ He sat down on the chair at his desk. ‘You couldn’t be loved more by your mum and me, you know that, don’t you? You’re properly adopted, no one can take you from us, you are ours for ever and a day. Praise be to God for that.’

  ‘I … you don’t love this Suzy person, do you, instead of Mum?’

  Peter shook his head. ‘I loved her only for the moment. Mum is the one I truly love and always will, no matter what.’ He went over to sit beside Alex on the sofa. ‘Do you want to know anything else? I’d rather you asked now than kept worrying.’

  ‘Not right now.’

  ‘If Beth wants to talk to you about it all, be careful what you say. I’m certain she hasn’t realised as you have.’

  ‘I’ll have to be truthful to her?’

  ‘Of course. How about hot chocolate, you and me, mm?’

  ‘Will Mum be all right? I’ve never seen her so upset.’
<
br />   ‘It will take a while, I’m afraid.’ He got up and asked again about hot chocolate.

  ‘Yes, please. Mum’s great. I never think she isn’t mine … you know … it’s like for real.’

  ‘What you have learned about tonight is not for discussion outside this house. It is an entirely private matter which Mum and I never talk about to anyone, for your sakes as much as our own. We can talk about it between ourselves, of course, if we wish, so you and Beth are absolutely free to discuss it with either Mum or me or each other. And your grandma and grandad know about it too, so you can talk to them absolutely freely if you wish. You understand?’ Alex nodded. Peter bent over, looking as if he were intending to kiss him but Alex dodged away so he couldn’t.

  Peter left Alex to drink his hot chocolate in bed and turn out his own light. He went into their bedroom and found, as Alex had said, that Beth had gone to sleep with her mother’s arms round her. He stood, looking at them both. As he watched, Beth sat up and said ‘Toilet’. She climbed out of bed, disappeared to the bathroom and didn’t come back. He found her fast asleep in her own bed.

  So he was left with Caroline. He drew the duvet up around her bare shoulders and lay on his side looking at her. Her eyelids were still red from weeping and they appeared swollen, too, and there were shadows where there hadn’t been shadows before. She stirred in her sleep as though searching for Beth. ‘She’s gone back to bed, darling.’

  Caroline stretched, clutched her head and muttered, ‘Aw! I feel terrible.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Can I get you anything?’

  She shook her head. ‘Alex, is he all right about it?’

  ‘So-so. His problem is he has understood, which Beth hasn’t. She’s just intrigued.’

  ‘She’s not a fool. She will in a day or two.’

  ‘It didn’t go quite as I intended.’

  Caroline turned away from him saying, ‘I’d no idea I would react like that. I’ve always thought I had it under control. Accepted it, you know.’

  Peter pulled the duvet around her shoulders again. ‘I didn’t want them to think their conception had been something …’

  More sharply than he had ever known, Caroline snapped out, ‘You can’t find the word, can you? You honestly can’t find it. Well, I’ll find it for you, shall I? Sordid? Would that fit the bill? Or how about shoddy, or shameful? No, I think sordid was the word you were looking for.’