Walking Back to Happiness
Page 27
It was afterwards when Hannah was outside and the door had closed behind her that the real tears came, torrents of sobs making her whole body shudder. She turned away from home, knowing she couldn’t face Erdington Village packed with shoppers, nor the empty house at the end of it.
She walked the length of Grange Road and there across Chester Road was Pype Hayes Park, drawing her like a magnet.
It was as she crossed the road that Vic Humphries saw her. He was returning to his car after visiting a patient in Chester Road when he saw Hannah. He stood and watched her for a few minutes and knew she was upset. He left the car where it was and followed her.
Hannah looked about the park in dismay. On this dry warm September Saturday, it was full of people. There were mothers with prams, others getting in a late game of tennis, children flooding the playground, youths kicking a ball about and others strolling with their arms around a girl.
Hannah looked around in panic. She wanted to be away from people. The few who’d passed her on Grange Road had looked at her askance, one had even stopped to ask if she was all right, but she’d shaken her head helplessly and ran on.
She saw the stream below at the edge of the park sparkling in the sun. While children were playing in it just below her, she was certain she could find some solitary spot if she followed it because it became marshier further on as she and Josie had once found to their cost.
Vic found her sitting on a rock above the stream sobbing as if her heart was broken. She was shaken with emotion, sodden and light-headed, and Vic was stirred with pity for her. She turned her blotched, puffy face to him as he called her and gave a cry of despair.
Vic couldn’t help himself. ‘Oh Hannah, don’t give way like this,’ he cried, as he enfolded her in his arms.
Hannah gave a sigh. It was not a contented one. She was too upset for that. It was a sigh almost of relief, a sigh that she was glad there was someone who could recognise her distress and try and comfort her, for she could hardly bear the pain of the imminent loss of her dear, dear friend. ‘Hannah! Hannah! What is it? What has upset you so much?’
But though Vic asked, he’d already guessed, for he’d seen Doctor Simmonds just the previous evening at a medical function. He’d known Gloria had been sent for tests and asked Doctor Simmonds if he had any news. He had and shouldn’t have shared it with Vic and wouldn’t have done if he hadn’t been a medical man. Vic asked, ‘Have you been to see Gloria?’
The nod was barely perceptible, for Hannah’s head was buried in Vic’s shoulder, his arms were tight around her and his lips were inches from her hair, her eyes and her lips and he whispered, ‘Oh my love, my love, my darling.’
‘Vic, I …’
‘Ssh. Darling, darling Hannah,’ Vic said. ‘If I could take this sadness away from you I would.’
‘I know,’ Hannah said, her voice a mere whisper. ‘And thank you. No one can help, but it’s good to know that you care.’
‘Of course I care. My darling, I love you so.’
Hannah felt her whole body jerk. Oh, to have the love of this good, good man. ‘Oh Vic,’ she said, covering her face with her hands and crying afresh.
‘Darling, please,’ Vic pleaded. He knelt before her and pulled her hands from her face and kissed them. He kissed the tears from her cheeks, her eyes and finally her lips. Hannah moaned yearningly and she felt the resistance she’d initially built against this man and fought to retain crumble away to nothing. She clung to Vic when he would have released her for the kiss was easing the ache in her heart somewhat.
Vic could hardly believe that he was holding and kissing his beloved Hannah and when he tentatively touched her lips with his tongue, they parted immediately and Vic knew Hannah’s longing matched his own. He felt the blood pound through his body and it brought an ache to his loins and his low moan was of pure desire.
Hannah’s heart quickened at the sound and she knew she wanted this man, needed him, but unless she told him in some way, she knew he would take this no further.
Suddenly, two children splashed in the water in front of them and their mother’s angry voice followed them. Hannah and Vic sprang apart. ‘Vic,’ Hannah said. ‘I need you.’
‘Oh, darling,’ Vic sighed. ‘How I’ve longed to hear you say those words. I have the car not far from here if you’re sure.’
Hannah just nodded.
Vic wanted to catch her hand and claim her as his and go running up the bank like a child. He was walking on air, but instead, they had to walk sedately side by side with both their hearts pounding. Hannah’s stomach was turning somersaults in anticipation and her effrontery in what she was allowing to happen, was looking forward to it happening.
As Vic let them both into the surgery and they stole up the stairs to the bedroom, he remembered he was only halfway through his visiting. But, he told himself, the other house calls could wait. He was on fire for Hannah and she for him and that fire could only be quenched one way and he knew it was going to be wonderful.
And it was wonderful and afterwards Hannah cried again, but those tears were of joy. She’d been truly loved by a man again. She was naked, as Vic was, as she’d been with Mike that once and never with Arthur. But she didn’t want to think of Arthur, for whatever he was, she’d cheated on him and she felt a shudder of apprehension run through her body.
‘Hannah, don’t feel bad about this at all,’ Vic said, but Hannah suddenly did. She was disgraceful. That day, she’d found out her dear friend was dying and to console herself, she’d behaved shamelessly, first kissing and canoodling in a public park and then making love to the man she’d thought only to be a friend. But despite the guilt, she felt sated, loved and cherished by the man who continued to whisper how much he loved her, adored her, how beautiful she was, how wonderful she’d made him feel. She felt utter sadness engulf her for much as she loved Vic and he loved her, she must give him up. But she couldn’t face telling Vic yet, the man was still in the throes of passion, but she must make it clear to him first thing Monday morning.
Monday morning made things no easier though. Hannah had done her best. Racked with guilt, she’d told Vic that she’d been wrong on Saturday and though she had deep and sincere feelings for him, there must be no further intimacy between them. She said she was shamed both by what she had done and the time she’d chosen, the very day she’d found out the severity of Gloria’s illness. ‘I should have been racked by grief, not lust,’ she said.
‘You were.’
‘Some grief,’ she said disgustedly. ‘Grief that could be eased by a session in bed with a man who was not my husband.’
‘Hannah, talk sense. It happened because I was comforting you.’
‘Oh, is that what they call it these days, comforting me?’
‘Hannah, stop this sort of talk! Let’s discuss it reasonably,’ Vic pleaded.
‘Vic, there’s nothing to discuss – I’m married.’
‘For God’s sake! I know that,’ Vic said bitterly. ‘But not happily married.’
‘There’s nowhere in the wedding ceremony that talks of happiness,’ Hannah told him. ‘Nowhere that says it has to be an ingredient of marriage. If I’m unhappy, then I’m surely not the only one.’
‘So you’ll deny yourself any sort of life because of the words spoken by a priest?’
Hannah’s eyes glistened with tears for what might have been and yet she replied, ‘Yes, I must.’
Vic, moved by the tears in Hannah’s eyes, suddenly gripped her hands and a weakness so affected Hannah’s limbs at his touch that she was forced to sit down. All day, she had avoided Vic, avoided looking into his eyes and any opportunity where he could touch her. Even when she took the coffee in after surgery, she’d not sat near him at all.
Vic had assumed she was embarrassed and had let it go, but now it was lunchtime and they were in the flat on their own and Hannah was feeling very strange and the more Vic talked, the stranger she became. ‘Hannah, darling, don’t you realise how I love you? I�
�ve loved you for years and yet didn’t recognise it at first.’
‘Don’t!’ Hannah cried, attempting to pull her hands away, but Vic held on tight.
‘Tell me you love me?’ he pleaded.
‘I do, I do.’
‘Then, darling, we must discuss the future.’
‘Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said? There can be no future for us,’ Hannah said sadly. ‘Our feelings don’t come into it.’
Vic released Hannah’s hands and sank on to the couch. ‘Oh God, Hannah! What are we to do?’
His face was such a picture of anguish that Hannah felt an actual pain in her heart. Heartache, like the pain when her baby was removed from her and she let out a cry of grief.
But when Vic’s arms came around to hold her, she pushed him off. ‘Vic, listen,’ she said. ‘This is my problem. Much as I love you we must stop this madness now. I am giving notice, so that you can get someone else to help you and forget me. You deserve a girl of your own and the chance of a family and …’
‘Damn it, Hannah! Stop this!’ Vic cried angrily. ‘Do you think I can let you walk out of my life like that? I love you.’
‘But I can offer you nothing.’
‘Maybe not yet. But please, don’t talk of leaving me, getting another job. I couldn’t bear not to see you at all.’
‘Don’t you think it would be best? Easier?’
‘Perhaps, but I don’t want it, Hannah. You have me at sixes and sevens now, I couldn’t cope at all without you here.’
And Hannah knew that her life wouldn’t be worth living without seeing Vic either. She hadn’t enough to fill her life and without Vic, it would be worthless.
‘Let’s go on as we are,’ Vic said. ‘Just for now. I’ll not force you to do anything you don’t want, or feel you’re not ready for. Just to be near you will be enough for me. Please, please, for pity’s sake, don’t abandon me.’
And Hannah couldn’t and agreed to stay though she didn’t know whether it was a sensible decision or not. However, soon the deterioration in Gloria took her mind off herself. She was glad to be needed at Gloria’s bedside, for it kept her mind away from Vic and her confused feelings for him. She went most days to see her, either straight after work or later in the evening. In the early days and even now when Gloria was having a good day, she was always pleased to see her. The burden of care had fallen on Amy, with help from district nurses, and Hannah was glad to be able to lend a hand in practical ways like doing the shopping or taking washing to do at home.
Arthur couldn’t understand Hannah’s concern for the old lady, but Josie and Angela could. She wrote to them both and Josie paid her a visit straight away, while Angela sent her a ‘Get Well’ card with a note inside saying she would see her at Christmas. Hannah was very pleased Angela did that. It showed that despite the way Arthur had raised her, the child was still capable of feeling and showing compassion and Hannah was heartened by that.
‘Christmas,’ Gloria mumbled when Hannah gave her Angela’s message. ‘I don’t think I’ll still be here.’
Hannah said nothing. She knew to try and jolly her along would only annoy the woman who realised the true state of her health.
Hannah felt immense sadness whenever she thought about Gloria’s impending death. She cared for her so much, owed her such a lot, and knew she’d miss her terribly. Gloria wasn’t always lucid. Sometimes her mind wandered, dulled and disorientated by drugs, and it reminded Hannah of her sister Frances’s death.
And then, just before Angela came home for Christmas, Hannah met Elizabeth Banks one Saturday afternoon in the city centre, where she’d gone to do some selective shopping to try and tempt Gloria’s flagging appetite with some delicacies. Hannah, what with working and visiting Gloria, hadn’t seen Elizabeth for some months and was pleased to meet her. Elizabeth seemed equally pleased. ‘You look well, my dear,’ she said, clasping her hands warmly. ‘Are you quite recovered now?’
‘Recovered?’
‘Yes, Arthur said you had that nerve trouble back and that was the reason you couldn’t come to the firm’s Christmas function this year.’
Oh, did he? Rage coursed through Hannah. She’d deny it, denounce him, show him up to be the vindictive liar that he was.
But before she was able to formulate the words, Elizabeth went on. ‘Reg said what a damned nuisance it was. Amazing how many women suffer from nerves now. Still, you’re better now. That’s the main thing.’
The moment for Hannah to tell Elizabeth the truth was gone. They went for coffee together and there Elizabeth dropped another bombshell. ‘Are you excited about going to a hotel for Christmas?’
‘Pardon? What?’
‘Oh dear,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Don’t say I’ve done it again. I always seem to be putting my foot in it with you. Arthur obviously wished to surprise you and I’ve blown it again. I’m so sorry, my dear.’
I bet Arthur wants to surprise me, Hannah thought. But, she assured Elizabeth, it didn’t matter that she’d let the cat out of the bag as it were and though her thoughts were churning inside her head she managed to steer the conversation into more settled waters, though she was determined to have the whole thing out with Arthur at the first opportunity.
She had to wait for Arthur because he had gone up to Angela’s school to fetch her home for the Christmas holidays and Hannah had no intention of spoiling her first few days at home with a hint of acrimony. Angela was no fool, though, she knew her parents didn’t get on, and was probably aware by now that it was unusual for parents to have separate bedrooms.
Arthur was anxious to show Angela the improvements he’d made to the sitting room, for now that Pauline had left, he’d told Hannah he was making the room over for Angela. ‘She is growing up,’ he’d said. ‘She needs a room where she can invite her friends in.’
And he’d made a good job of it, Hannah had to admit. Like Angela’s bedroom, no expense had been spared here either. A soft and thick Wedgwood blue carpet covered the floor and matched the curtains that covered the narrow French door that opened on to the garden. A modern gas fire stood in the grate with a cream sheepskin rug before the fender, and a coffee table between the two armchairs, which were in a darker blue with cream cushions. Either side of the chimney breast were wooden bookshelves and in the corner on a table stood a Dansette record player and the whole room was lit softly by rose-coloured lamps.
It was the first time Hannah had seen it completed, for Arthur had kept the door locked and the curtains drawn and much of the furniture had been delivered while she was at work, and she felt her mouth drop open in surprise. She would have been overcome with delight if she’d had such a room at her disposal and she looked at Angela who’d not said a word and wore a strange expression on her face.
Arthur hadn’t seemed to notice. ‘Now this here,’ he said crossing to the table, ‘isn’t what it seems. It opens at the front, do you see, to store records. I didn’t know your taste, but we’ll take a run in to town to choose some for you and Santa Claus might have a television in his sack to put in here too. Now what do you think of that? It will of course have the new commercial channel you were so keen on us having.’
‘It’s … it’s lovely, Daddy,’ Angela said at last. ‘Who’s it for?’
‘Why, you of course,’ Arthur said. ‘And any friends you care to invite in.’
‘Daddy, I haven’t any friends around here.’
‘I don’t mean from around here,’ Arthur said dismissively. ‘I didn’t send you to a fine school to associate with riffraff. What about your friends from school? They could come for a day or two. There’s always one or two anxious to come out with us at the weekends, but you’ve never asked any of them home.’
Angela’s face was very red and Hannah knew she was upset about something. Eventually, she said, ‘Daddy, I don’t want you to be angry, but I couldn’t invite friends here. They all have big houses, not in little streets like this either, but in their own grounds. They have servants, my t
wo best friends have ponies and some even have their own swimming pools. If I asked them here, they’d think I lived in a slum. I could never hold my head up again.’
Hannah’s gasp was audible and she saw the tic that signalled the onset of Arthur’s temper beating in his temple. ‘So,’ he said in a voice Hannah had never heard him use to Angela. ‘So. We’re not good enough for you? Is that it?’
‘No, it’s not,’ Angela cried, as angry as her father. ‘And I never said it was that. But it’s no good getting cross. It was your own fault. You sent me to that school and you must have known even the way they talk when they’re out with us. You must have heard them and guessed where they lived. If we even lived in a bigger house somewhere else, it might help.’
But Hannah knew Arthur would never move. He was fond of the house and besides that, it was paid for. If he had to take on a high mortgage as well as Angela’s fees, he couldn’t manage. She knew the fees had increased dramatically when she’d gone into senior school the previous year, because he’d let it slip one evening. She knew Arthur just didn’t have the money to provide the lifestyle Angela craved and yet he insisted on keeping her at a school where such things were the norm.
She could have told him she’d been afraid that such an event might happen and Angela would have been better going to a less illustrious Birmingham day school, or a grammar school if she proved clever enough, but she knew better than to comment and draw attention upon herself with Arthur in such a mood.
Arthur left the house straight after the strained and almost silent meal, something he never usually did on Angela’s first few nights home, and when the door had slammed behind him, Angela looked at Hannah and said, ‘He’s really angry, I think.’
Hannah was always honest. She knew Arthur had put great store in preparing that room, not to mention the cost of it. She could even in a small way feel sorry for the acute disappointment he must have felt in Angela’s reception of it.