‘They are fine too.’
‘I must get my luggage.’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
Fiona had expected much more luggage than her mother claimed, just two cases. She had taken twice as much with her, she recalled. ‘Would you like a cup of tea in the restaurant before we start out?’ she said.
‘No. No, thank you, dear. They give you a nice meal on the plane, and eating helps to shorten the journey…Are you taking me to you…I mean is, have you made any arrangements about accommodation such as an hotel?’
‘No, Mother; I didn’t know what you intended to do. I thought you might like to come home with me first.’
‘Yes. Yes, I would like that, Fiona. I…I have a lot to tell you.’
As they drove onto the main road from Newcastle Airport Mrs Vidler, who had been quiet for some time, said, ‘It’s nice to be back. I…I never thought I would say that, you know. Just to be back in England, it’s a strange feeling.’
‘Yes, yes, I suppose so.’ Fiona could find nothing else to say. She felt at odds with this new mother, this different mother, this mother who seemed to be utterly devoid of aggression. She didn’t know as yet how to handle her.
As they drove up the drive towards the house her mother now remarked, ‘It’s a lovely house.’
Then they were in the hall and she stood looking about her for a moment before turning to Fiona and saying, ‘It’s very beautiful. I…I never imagined it like this. Oh, hello Mark!’
‘Hello, Grandma.’ Mark came up to her and dutifully kissed her on the cheek; and she smiled at him, saying, ‘I can’t believe it. You’ve grown so tall. And Willie!’ She was now being kissed by Willie.
‘Hello, Grandma,’ he said.
‘Hello, Willie. You too have grown. But then a lot happens in a year.’
Fiona, who was helping her off with her coat, noticed that her mother had lost all her slimness. She’d had an almost sylph-like figure, but she had definitely thickened around the hips and waist; in fact, she appeared plump.
‘Come into the sitting room…Mark, tell Nell we’re back. She must be up in the nursery.’ She turned to her mother. ‘Nell’s got a baby son,’ she said. ‘He’s upstairs in the nursery with Angela.’
‘Oh, Nell’s got a baby! How nice for her.’
This indeed was not Mrs Vidler.
As they were about to enter the sitting room Bill came running down the stairs; and they turned towards him, and he, now coming slowly up to them, said, ‘Well, hello, Mother-in-law. You’ve got back then?’
‘Yes, yes, I’ve got back.’
Fiona saw that he was nonplussed, which he certainly was; he was wondering where the old bitch was, the arrogant old bitch, the old bitch that hadn’t a good word for him, ever.
‘Well, come in and sit down. That was what you were goin’ to do, wasn’t it, both of you?’ he said; and he marched before them into the room, talking loudly, as much from embarrassment as from anything else. ‘Nobody attends to this fire if I don’t see to it. I’ll get those three lazy young beggars onto that saw and get some logs cut up.’
They were just seated when Nell came into the room and she, remembering Mrs Vidler’s manner towards her in the past, said politely, ‘I hope you had a good journey, Mrs Vidler.’
‘Yes. Yes, thank you. It was rather tiring, but when you think of it, it’s very quick. Just a few hours between here and America. Yet such a vast distance really.’ Her voice seemed to trail away on the last words. And now Nell said, ‘I bet you could do with a cup of tea, real English tea.’
Mrs Vidler glanced at her daughter, then said, ‘Yes; yes I could. Thank you.’
When Nell went out of the room there was silence among them for a moment. And then, to Fiona’s and Bill’s utter surprise, they watched the scourge of their lives, and she had certainly been that, droop her head forward and quickly take a handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and press it over her eyes.
‘Oh Mother! Mother.’ Fiona was sitting on the couch beside her now, her arm around her shoulder. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m sorry, dear, I’m sorry. It’s just that I…I never thought I’d…get home again. I never thought I’d be able to see you or…or any of the children. But’—she looked up at Bill now through her streaming eyes—‘I…I won’t impose. I promise you, I won’t impose ever again. I’ve still got the money for the house and…and I’ll get a little place. In the meantime, I can go into a small hotel. I won’t impose.’
‘Be quiet, woman! What are you talkin’ about, imposin’? I don’t know what’s happened to you, but being me I’ll tell you straight: it’s somethin’ in a way that’s done you good. As for imposin’, by all means get a place of your own but in the meantime there’s a room for you. That’s what you want, isn’t it, Fiona?’
Fiona stared up at him, her mouth slightly agape. ‘Oh, yes, yes, Bill, definitely yes.’
‘Aye, well, that’s settled. Now, come on, tell us what happened and what’s brought you back?’
Mrs Vidler now dried her eyes, took in a deep breath and, looking from one to the other, she began, ‘Everything seemed marvellous at first. He had a very nice house, something like this’—she looked about her—‘beautifully furnished, and there was a swimming pool attached, and for the first week or two he couldn’t do enough. He had proposed marriage or…well, suggested it strongly in his letters. But there was no mention of that when I got there but a lot of talk about my finances and about me putting money into his estate business, which he told me was making small fortunes. When I told him I wasn’t a rich woman, he laughed. You see I had been at this Hydro’—she bent her head again—‘stupidly to have this done’—she now dabbed her cheek with her forefinger—‘and that cost me a deal of money, more than I could really afford. And he went on that and the fact that I had a house in England and that I even had a daughter married to a’—she glanced at Bill—‘a prosperous builder. He kept asking when the money was coming through from the sale of the house. But perhaps you know that it was on the market six months before it was sold. Then one night I had been wined and dined by one of his so-called rich friends and from what was said I realised he thought I was a very wealthy woman but a bit cagey about what I was worth. And I suppose that started me thinking. Then when I got back, unexpectedly early, I found the man I thought of as my prospective husband going through my things. He had actually opened a locked leather case I kept my papers in and also my bank book. Well’—she now swung her head in a desperate fashion—‘there was a dreadful scene. He said I’d hoodwinked him, not that he had hoodwinked me. And…and it turned out that this wonderful house of his had been rented just as it stood for three months, and that was almost up. He…he called me names. Dreadful. He walked out, took his things and went. That was the last I saw of him. There was a maid in the house and he had told her that I would pay her a month’s wages in lieu of notice, and I told her I couldn’t because I had very little money left until I got some sent from here. She was very kind to me. She…she told me that she had known all along he was a fake. And it turned out that he had been married and—’ she swallowed deeply before she said, ‘divorced three times. Fiona—’ she now looked at her daughter and her lips trembled as she said, ‘can you imagine how I felt? The humiliation, and to know that I’d been a stupid, a really stupid, woman, a stupid…ageing woman. I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t been for that girl, the maid. She knew the town and she got me into cheap lodgings.’ She shook her head. ‘And they were cheap lodgings.’
‘But if that only covered three months, what have you been doin’ all this time?’ Bill demanded.
‘Yes. Yes, Bill, what have I been doing all this time?’
It wasn’t lost on Bill or Fiona that she had addressed him by his Christian name for the first time, which emphasised the change that had come over this woman. And when she repeated, ‘You might well ask. Work is as difficult to get there as it is here, more so when you’re British, and you have to have a wor
k permit, even for a short time, oh, that was difficult, so difficult, and they laugh at you the way you speak, even the way you walk. Anyway, I eventually ended up as an underpaid assistant nanny.’
‘Oh, Mother! You?’ She stopped here, and Mrs Vidler added, ‘Yes, my dear, an assistant nanny to three dreadful children, spoilt, ruined, and even wicked in the things they did, not only to the other nanny and myself but to others in the household. And all the while I thought of my grandchildren. Yes, dear, my grandchildren. And yes, dear, for the first time I thought how they had been brought up. And I longed to be home, back in England. But I was so ashamed of myself, my stupidity…and vanity. If anyone in this world has been brought low, dear, it’s been me.’ She nodded at Fiona.
‘You’ve been a damn fool.’
‘Yes, yes, Bill, I’ve been a damn fool.’
‘What I mean is,’ said Bill, ‘you should have wired. You could have had some money sent out to you until the house was sold.’
‘I thought of that but I couldn’t bring myself to.’
‘Well, what brought you to it in the end then? Tell us that?’
‘What brought me to it was that the nanny had had enough and I was left with those three dreadful children. And after three weeks, when I threatened to leave, the so-called mistress told me that she wouldn’t give me a reference and I wouldn’t be engaged by anyone in that town again. It was my business, she said, being a so-called English lady, that was her term, to improve her children’s manners and what was more, to control their actions. It was then I went out and phoned you, dear.’
‘What about the money for the house? Wasn’t that sent on to you?’
‘No. I told my bank manager not to send it on because I knew in my heart that I couldn’t stay there forever. But I needed to pluck up the courage; and that awful woman, the mother of those three little devils, gave it to me. And I went out and phoned you. I would have got on a plane the next day but…but today was the nearest vacancy that was on the chartered flights. Oh, you don’t know’—she now looked from one to the other—‘what it’s like to be back. Oh’—she nodded her head now—‘the type of people there are in the world, moneyed people and those who are out to make it no matter what they do or how they do it, or who they hurt in the process. It’s all money there. Without money you’re nobody. It’s true. You might think that wealth is badly divided here, but you’ve seen nothing until you go to America. Yet there are nice people there, like the maid. I don’t know what I would have done without her. Then there was the nanny. We got on very well together, she and I, supporting each other, until she could stand no more. She was an American too and she was a generous girl, not like her employers. They were mean, narrow, except with food.’ She nodded. ‘They wasted food. And you know it’s dreadful to admit, I…I who was always going on diets, I ate and ate. It was my only comfort, and this is proof of it.’ She tapped her hips now.
‘Aye, well, you can say it’s been an experience. But now that you’re back you’re welcome to stay until you get on your feet again an’ find a suitable place. And I say the only sensible thing you’ve done is to leave the money for the house here. By the way, what did it go for?’
‘Sixty-two thousand.’
‘No!’
‘Yes. It brought a good price; but then it was a very nice bungalow, as you know.’
‘Well I can see how that bloke wanted to get his hands on that for his real estate or whatever.’
‘Oh yes, he wanted to get his hands on it all right. That was the only thing he wanted. He kept pressing me to write to the agent. In fact, in the second month when nothing had happened he typed out a letter and got me to send it. It was from then I began to feel uneasy.’
‘Ah, here’s Nell with the tea. Hurry up, woman; you’ve had long enough to go to the plantation an’ pick the leaves.’
‘Hasn’t he got a beautiful drawing-room manner?’ Nell was speaking to Fiona now, and she answered, ‘Yes; and I’ve always admired it, Nell. Such an example to others.’
‘Is he talking yet?’
‘What d’you mean, is he talking yet? Who?’
‘Who but young Master Andrew.’
‘Funny cuts, aren’t you!’
Bill now turned to Mrs Vidler. ‘It shouldn’t surprise me,’ he said, ‘but her and Bert have bred a genius. He’ll be writing symphonies at three or singin’ them because he yells all the time. Be prepared, mother-in-law: you’ll hear nothing but baby talk in this house from now on.’
Nell again addressed Fiona, saying, ‘And who will lead the chorus?’
‘Yes indeed, Nell, who will lead the chorus?’
And so it went on, cross-talk and light chipping to put the visitor at ease for what they were all witnessing was pride having been brought low, and if anyone needed bolstering at this moment, it was this once arrogant, bitchy mother, and mother-in-law, this once proud impossible woman.
Three
It was a fortnight later when Bill helped Davey out of the car and into the house and sat him in the drawing room in order to give him breath and strength to make the stairs. And just as the arrival of the child had altered their lives and the routine of the house, so did the arrival of Davey Love when he came into the house to die. They all knew, as he did, that he was dying; yet, years later, each individual was to look back to that time and see it as one of the most peaceful and happiest times that had reigned in that house.
The en suite bedroom overlooking the drive had a rose pink carpet with velvet curtains to match, these standing against French grey flock wallpaper that had a delicate browny pink stripe. The bed, a double one, had been placed with the head near the window and opposite on a small raised hearth stood the electric log fire that had graced Fiona’s sitting room in the old house.
Altogether it was a beautiful room, and the first sight of it had brought tears to Davey’s eyes. And when, on that first evening, he had said, ‘What better place could God design for a man to die in,’ Bill had exclaimed loudly, ‘For the Lord’s sake! Davey, stop talkin’ like that,’ only for Davey to come back at him and say quietly, ‘Come here, boss. Sit down a minute.’ And when Bill had obeyed him Davey said, ‘Let’s get this straight, boss, eh? Me time’s runnin’ out but me heart’s overflowin’ with gratitude. Will you believe me when I tell you I’m happy? I’ve never been happier in me life. And that’s honest to God, who I’ll meet up with in a short time.’ And then he had added on a laugh, ‘It might be Saint Michael the Archangel, of course. Well, he’s a tougher proposition, so I’m told. The situation’ll be like everything else down here: when you get to the boss you’ve got a chance of gettin’ a fair hearin’. It’s them bods on the way up that have got opinions of themselves. They’re the ones you can’t get past. And don’t I know it. So, boss, let’s be happy, eh?’
And so it would seem that everyone in the house had taken their cue from the man who was now the centre of it; and none more so than Katie and, of all people, Susan Vidler. Both had taken on the post of part-time nurse.
Mrs Vidler, at odd times during the day, would sit with Davey, and it would appear that Katie couldn’t get back quickly enough from school to take up her position near his bed and chat with him.
When he could no longer stagger to the bathroom, it was Sammy, Willie and Bill who took over the duties of seeing to his personal needs in that way. Bill made it his business to pop home every dinner time, and the two boys came in from school just after four o’clock. If he needed attention before that, strangely again, it was Susan Vidler who saw to him. And there wasn’t a day went by that the room didn’t ring with laughter from one or another. One day in particular was when the priest came to visit him.
Father Hankin was a tall gaunt-looking man in his early thirties. He was known to be a man of wide views welcoming those of other denominations into conference. But on this day, sitting by the side of Davey’s bed sipping a cup of tea, he looked from Fiona to Mrs Vidler, then to Davey before he said, ‘There’s one thing I want
to speak about and I suppose I’m going to affront your good friend here.’ He now nodded towards Fiona. ‘But it’s about Sammy. Yes, yes, I know he attends his duties. He’s a good boy in that way, but he’s also attending the Protestant school—now isn’t he?—and a private one at that.’
‘Well, all I can say for that, Father, is thanks be to God.’
‘Well, I can’t sort of give you God’s opinion of it meself, but mine is, that there’s still good teaching in Saint Hilda’s. The nuns are splendid teachers; three of them with university degrees, three of them mind!’
‘Aye; and one of them, Father, with hands on her like bloody iron hammers. Pardon me, pardon me.’ As Davey’s head drooped, the priest said, ‘Well, I agree with you: Sister Catherine has hands on her like bloody iron hammers, but she’s got a lot of bloody hard nails to hit there.’
Davey had one arm tight round his waist trying to stifle his laughter; Fiona’s mouth was wide, and although she had her hand over her mouth the sound of her laughter was loud; and although one would have expected Mrs Vidler to look askance and say, ‘Dear! Dear! Dear! What language!’ all she did was bite her upper lip to try and stop herself from roaring like the rest. The priest himself had his head back and his guffaws filled the room. Then, leaning towards Davey, he wiped his streaming eyes as he said, ‘You see, you’re not the only one, Davey, who’s been to a special college. And I’d like to bet some of my brethren in the Cloth could beat you hollow.’
‘I’ve no doubt ’bout that, Father,’ replied Davey between gasps.
‘Anyway, to come back to the serious subject of education,’ the priest said: ‘is it your wish that the boy continues where he is? Now think, think before you answer.’
‘I have no time to think: I’ve no reason to think, Father, none at all, none at all. As long as it’s possible I want him to stay at that school, then I’d hope he’d go on with Willie to Newcastle. There’s a place called Dame Allan’s there…She must have been a very good woman to have a school named after her. Aye, she must. I’ve heard that’s a good place for education. An’ there’s the grammar school, too.’
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