Walking Back to Happiness

by Anne Bennett

  ‘Yes, I’ve never had it before.’

  ‘“Mother’s ruin”, they call it. Like another?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’

  ‘Look here, Hannah, we got years to catch up on, haven’t we? We can’t sit at a table in a bar without a drink.’

  ‘I usually have an orange juice.’

  ‘Orange juice be damned!’ Tilly cried. ‘This isn’t what you’d call a usual meeting and we need a couple of large G & T’s to help it along.’

  Hannah laughed. She’d forgotten how Tilly had often made her laugh and when the laughter had ended, what a staunch friend she’d proved to be and how shamefully she’d treated her.

  Tilly returned with the drinks. ‘That’s better,’ she said, ‘seeing you with a smile on your face. God, you looked as if you’d lost a pound and found sixpence.’

  ‘That’s your influence,’ Hannah said. ‘Believe me, my life hasn’t been a bundle of laughs.’

  ‘Whose has?’ Tilly said. ‘Got to make the best of it, I say. Look at me. I met Ted not long after you disappeared into the blue yonder. He’d been in the army, but was invalided out early because of a leg wound. Still got a limp now. But, in the army, he’d learnt mechanics for cars, lorries and that and he got taken on in a garage and before the other fellows were out, see. But we couldn’t get no house, council lists are like a roll of wallpaper and we’re stuck way at the bottom and houses to buy are going for silly prices.

  ‘We married in January 1946 and Colin was born in April 1947 and Louise two years later. Ted’s mom’s all right for babysitting and watching the nippers in the holidays when I’m at work, but she’s an interfering sod. I’m too soft on the kids or too hard. I give them too much attention or not enough. I feed them too much or not enough, or not the right kind of things. God, there’s times I could brain the bloody woman.

  ‘Then Ted comes home and we’re going at it hammer and tongs. I think he should support me because he married me and his mother thinks he should support her because she’s his mother. Poor Ted can’t do right for doing wrong and usually ducks out of it altogether by going to the pub.’

  ‘But you don’t let it get you down,’ Hannah said because all during Tilly’s relation of the tale, her eyes had danced and there had been a quirk to her mouth.

  ‘’Course it bloody gets me down at the time,’ Tilly said. ‘I said to Ted one of these days he’ll come home to find his mom cut into pieces that I’m feeding into the mincer. Huh. Thought I was joking. No, the point is, Hannah, I don’t dwell on it after. You can’t. It don’t do to look back either. And now you’ve got summat to live for, because your daughter is beautiful, and she’s the spitting image of you.’

  ‘Yes, in looks,’ Hannah said. ‘That’s as far as it goes. She is her father’s child.’

  Tilly was surprised. She’d been stunned by Angela’s resemblance to her mother. It was like seeing Hannah as a small child and she estimated Angela to be much the same age as her Colin. But she hadn’t thought much of Hannah’s choice of husband. He had no flair about him, no zest for life as Hannah once had, no sex appeal – nothing. And Hannah – Hannah who could have had the pick of anyone, who could have been dressed in a paper bag and look better than most women – chose him and now said the child preferred him to her.

  But when Hannah began her story from the time she left Yorkshire, Tilly’s eyes grew wide with sympathy. She told her how ill she’d been after Michael’s birth and how she’d eventually agreed to marry Arthur to secure her own future and to have a family. Then she told her about the letter from Ireland and going home to her dying sister, the child she’d agreed to care for, and then on to the wedding and disastrous honeymoon.

  Tilly bought another drink, sensing Hannah needed it. ‘Here, take a swig of that to give you courage,’ she said, pushing the drink across the table.

  Hannah did as she suggested and then with the glass clasped between her hands, she went on in a rush. She told of the abuse that began on their honeymoon and the one violent sexual act that had resulted in Angela.

  ‘He’d read books on it and knew I wasn’t a virgin,’ Hannah said. ‘He never slept with me again, not even in the same room. He thinks me a harlot, a whore, and when he knew I’d become pregnant, he said he’d keep the child away from me, lest I taint it.’

  ‘He can’t.’

  ‘He could and he did. He’s bought everything for Angela and I mean everything, the pram, the cot, her toys, her clothes.’

  ‘Yes, but you’re her mother.’

  ‘Yes, that’s one thing he can’t dispute,’ said Hannah, with a grim laugh. ‘But I had to have an emergency Caesarean, and was out of it for ages and even when I woke up, I was in no state to see Angela and she was in distress anyway and had to be kept in the nursery. I couldn’t feed her, Arthur gave her her first bottle and every evening after that he fed her when he came to visit. He was lovely to me when there were people there, flowers and chocolates, you know the sort. He charmed the nurses. But when we were alone he kept telling me I was useless.

  ‘When I eventually saw Angela, I felt nothing. No rush of love – nothing. It was nothing like I felt when I had Michael. Then I was ill because he’d been taken from me and this time my baby was there and I didn’t want her. I didn’t even like her very much. Arthur hired a nanny to look after her and she’s still there. Her name is Pauline.

  ‘Vic said it’s something to do with being separated from my baby for those first few days. You don’t bond or something and you have depression. I think it was Arthur telling me I’d be useless too. Maybe part of me thought if I don’t try, I can’t fail. I don’t know if I thought that, but I might have. Vic talks a lot about the mind and subconscious thoughts, planting an idea in someone’s head, especially if that person is vulnerable and has low self-esteem.’

  ‘And who’s this Vic?’

  ‘The doctor. I work for him now,’ Hannah said and went to on to describe her job and how much good it had done her and how kind and generous Vic was. She explained her relationship with Pauline and how it had begun to change over the years until Pauline was now more of a friend than a foe.

  ‘Is your old man wealthy?’ Tilly asked, as she set two more drinks on the table before them. ‘All this hiring a nanny and private schools, I mean it’s not what ordinary people do.’

  ‘He’s not wealthy,’ Hannah said, ‘but he is comfortable. He’s risen in the firm and I imagine has a good salary. I don’t see a penny piece of it, unless we are going to dine at the Banks’ and he gives me money to get my hair done and buy clothes. He wants them to think that we are a devoted couple.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I play along.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why! I’ve had one child taken from me already and now Angela doesn’t care that much for me, though I hope that when she gets older, maybe as a teenager or young woman, she’ll turn to me more. Pauline won’t be with us much longer. She’s going on for sixty-five now and has very bad legs and really with Angela boarding, she has no need of a nanny. There will only be me and Angela through the holidays.’

  ‘But if you want to get along with her so much, why are you sending her to boarding school in the first place?’

  ‘Again that wasn’t my choice,’ Hannah said. ‘As I told you, I have very little say in anything that concerns Angela. Personally, I think she’s too young and I believe it’s another ploy to keep her away from me. Arthur has already told her that he will be up to see her every weekend and I know I won’t be invited. That’s where they are now, checking on the haunts that they can visit in and around the town. But Tilly,’ Hannah said fiercely, ‘even if I was sold on the idea of a boarding school then I wouldn’t have sent her where she will be going. Not even if it was the only school on the planet.’

  ‘Why? Where is it?’

  ‘You’ll never guess, not in a million years. Do you remember that grim building out in the sticks run by the Sisters of Charity?’

  ‘You
’re not sending her there?’ Tilly said, horrified.

  ‘I’m sending her nowhere. This is all Arthur’s doing. But the place is so changed you wouldn’t recognise it. It’s bright and airy and full of children’s chatter and laughter. It’s a Catholic convent school and still run by nuns, but they are teaching Sisters. It has a very good name and in theory, Angela will have every advantage there.

  ‘Personally, I think it’s a big mistake. Private day school was bad enough, but when she mixes with real moneyed people, she won’t think much of our ordinary little terraced house. Arthur can’t, or won’t, see a problem and despite my telling you the convent is changed from the place where I gave birth to my baby Michael, I know I’ll still get tremors of anxiety at her going there.’

  ‘I can well understand that.’

  ‘Everyone else can see my point of view,’ Hannah said.

  Tilly felt sorry for Hannah, but as she said, she couldn’t do anything about the situation. She went to the bar and came back with two more drinks and Hannah said not a word about it, for the gin was making her feel better than she had in ages. Tilly decided to change the subject. ‘And how’s your niece that you took to live with you? Josie, is it?’

  ‘Oh, she’s great,’ Hannah said. ‘She goes about with a girl from work called Cynthia and Josie says Cynthia’d love her to take up with her brother, Peter. Josie likes him, but not that way. She prefers his friend, Phil. At the moment though, they’re both complaining about national service. They date a boy a few times and then off he goes for eighteen months. They get a few letters if they’re lucky and then nothing.’

  ‘Eighteen months, huh. We had six years of it.’

  ‘I know and look at us,’ Hannah said and they both laughed. ‘Oh Tilly,’ Hannah went on earnestly. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  ‘It’s the gin talking.’

  ‘No it isn’t,’ Hannah said, ‘but I could well develop a taste for it.’

  ‘Well, you better have no more of it. You can’t meet your old man legless.’

  ‘I think it’s too late,’ Hannah said. ‘I haven’t tried standing up, but my head is decidedly not right and you know what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t care.’

  ‘Oh Lord, you are tipsy,’ Tilly said. ‘I’ll order us some coffee and you can tell me about the doctor.’

  ‘About the doctor?’

  She repeated the question when Tilly came back and Tilly replied, ‘Yes, the doctor. Maybe you don’t know how your eyes go all soft when you talk about him, but I’ve noticed. Is he dishy? Do you fancy him?’

  Hannah considered the questions. ‘Is he dishy? I don’t know. He’s lovely, so kind and thoughtful. His mouth is full, not like Arthur’s thin lips, and his teeth are pure white, his skin sort of tanned and his eyes deep, deep brown and so is his mop of untidy hair and the beard he grew to make himself look older when he started in practice.’

  ‘Oh, you have got it bad,’ Tilly said and waited till the tray of coffee was before them before she spoke again. ‘You definitely fancy him. How does he feel about you?’

  ‘I do not fancy him, Tilly. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s my boss, that’s all.’

  ‘So what? You can fancy your boss you know.’

  ‘Well, I don’t. I’m married and a Catholic, Tilly.’

  ‘Oh, and that puts a block on your feelings, does it?’

  ‘It means you can’t act on them, even if you are attracted to someone because marriage is for life. And before you say a word, I do not fancy Vic. This is all a figment of your vivid imagination.’

  ‘Oh yeah!’ Tilly said, with a sardonic grin. ‘You just believe that if you like. Will you struggle along in your loveless marriage for ever and a day then?’

  ‘Yes I will, for Angela’s sake if not my own. It’s like a form of punishment.’

  ‘Punishment! For what? For loving a man who was blown to kingdom come? God, Hannah, you’ve got some horrible idea of God if you think you deserve punishment for that. And if you’re right, you can keep your God, I’d want no part of him.’

  ‘Oh Tilly,’ said Hannah with a smile. ‘It’s been worth coming to see you. You’re like a tonic. There is no one like you for making me laugh.’

  ‘Huh, Ted’s mother wouldn’t agree with you,’ Tilly said and then catching sight of her watch went on, ‘And talking of Ted’s mother, I’m going to bloody well catch it when I get home. Our Louise will be home. She’s only in the Infants’.’

  ‘Will you get into trouble?’

  ‘When do I not?’ Tilly said with a cheerful grin. She scribbled her address on a piece of paper and passed it to Hannah, downed her coffee in one swallow, and said, ‘Write to me and for God’s sake, be good to yourself. Grab a chance to be happy for once in your life. But for now, help yourself to the coffee, there’s usually two each in one of those pots, so there will be a fair bit left. Okay?’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Never better.’

  ‘You’re bloody pissed, that’s why,’ Tilly said and then suddenly she knelt down and put her arms around Hannah and gave her a hug, before hurrying from the room. Hannah watched her go with her eyes misted with tears.

  And Tilly, even knowing her mother-in-law would surely harangue her and her Ted would probably take himself off to the pub and they were no nearer getting a house than ever, knew she wouldn’t swap her life for Hannah’s – no way. No bloody way.

  Hannah finished the coffee, but thought that honestly it hadn’t done much good. She still felt terribly woozy and yet worryingly, wasn’t bothered about it at all. She wondered if she would be able to stand or walk, but didn’t care if she couldn’t. She didn’t seem to care about anything.

  Why hadn’t she thought of taking a drink earlier to help her cope with Arthur? Ah, but that was the start of the slippery slope, wasn’t it? ‘Mother’s ruin’, that’s what Tilly had said. She could quite see how it could be that. Oh, she was glad she’d bumped into Tilly. She made her feel better. She thought if Tilly fell in a dung hill, she’d come up smelling of roses.

  And yet she’s wrong about me and Vic, she thought. Trust her to see romance in everything when Vic and I are just friends, good friends maybe, but definitely no more than that.

  ‘I’ve been searching everywhere for you,’ Arthur’s peevish and angry voice broke in on Hannah’s thoughts.

  ‘Well, now you’ve found me.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to be in the bar.’

  ‘Well, where did you expect me to be?’

  Arthur didn’t answer. Instead, he eyed the glasses on the table beside the tray of coffee. ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘Yes. It’s usually what people do in a bar,’ Hannah said, ‘and it may have escaped your notice, but I am over eighteen.’

  ‘You’ve been sitting here drinking alone since I left?’

  ‘What did you expect me to do, Arthur?’ Hannah barked. ‘Sit twiddling my thumbs and counting the flowers on the wallpaper?’

  Arthur was surprised at Hannah’s tone and his eyes narrowed. ‘Are you drunk?’

  ‘Very possibly.’

  ‘You’re disgusting!’

  ‘I know. You’ve told me often, like you’ve told me I’m a harlot and a whore.’

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ Arthur hissed. ‘People are looking. Come on, Angela is waiting in the foyer.’

  Now to see if I can walk, Hannah thought, and got to her feet slowly. She would have fallen then, but for Arthur’s arm and he grasped her firmly and almost marched her out of the room while she laughed at the expression of stern disapproval on his face.

  ‘What’s the matter with Mommy?’ Angela asked, who couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever heard or seen her mother laughing.

  ‘Nothing. Mommy’s very tired.’

  ‘She doesn’t look tired. She looks as if she’s been having fun,’ Angela said. She liked the sight of her cheerful mother.

  ‘We’ll sit in the back on the way home,’ Hannah told her
daughter. ‘And we’ll sing all the songs we can remember. What do you say?’

  Angela’s eyes widened. She’d never heard her mother sing before, but it sounded more entertaining than just watching the road and the traffic and concentrating on not being sick. She looked automatically at her father for approval, but too many people had heard what Hannah had said and were looking towards the handsome woman and the child who was a carbon copy of herself for Arthur to say what he really thought.

  ‘Come along.’

  They sang all the songs of the day. ‘Singing in the Rain’, ‘Charmaine’, ‘Singing the Blues’, and songs from Walt Disney’s film Dumbo and South Pacific, both of which Angela had seen with her father. They went on to a medley of war songs and then any hymns Hannah could remember, finishing up with ‘Rock Around the Clock’, and all the time, Hannah was aware of the stiffness of Arthur before them in the driving seat, anger and resentment apparent from the back of his head and even the nape of his neck which he held rigid. Arthur’s face, which she saw in profile, was drawn and tight, his nostrils pinched in and his mouth a thin line. She knew he was seething with anger, yet found she couldn’t give a damn; in fact, she was pleased.

  ‘You were drunk!’ Gloria cried with glee when Hannah told her about it. ‘Good on you, girl! God, I’d have gone on the bottle before this if I’d been married to Arthur Bradley.’

  ‘It’s the first time I remember having fun, real fun with my daughter,’ said Hannah. ‘I think that’s what bothered him more than anything.’

  ‘It would.’

  ‘It was worth the headache that developed later,’ Hannah said, ‘and the silent treatment I got from Arthur, because that night Angela wound her arms around my neck without being pressured and gave me a kiss. If Arthur had been a different man, then I’m sure I could have built a relationship with my daughter.’

  ‘You can still build one. The child is only seven.’