Walking Back to Happiness

by Anne Bennett

  And she did, cuddled in his arms, and as 1958 drew to a close, Vic pulled Hannah closer to him and raised his glass. ‘Let 1959 be our year,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  But even as she spoke and their glasses chinked together, Hannah knew even for the sake of her own happiness and that of Vic, she couldn’t just walk away from everything else. ‘I wouldn’t like anything to happen before Josie’s baby is born in March,’ she said. ‘And then Angela is to be confirmed in June. I wouldn’t want to miss that. We are getting on better than ever before now and she’s started to ask my advice on things. Maybe if I was to leave Arthur and explained it to her properly, perhaps going to the school and seeing her there, I might not lose contact with her totally. After all, she’s only here for the holidays now.

  ‘Then of course there’s Gloria. I couldn’t go anywhere without …’

  ‘She won’t live much past spring,’ Vic said. ‘I was talking to her doctor. He’s amazed she’s hung on so long, but her time is really running out now.’

  Gloria’s imminent death was the one blot on Hannah’s horizon, the one thing that could depress her. And yet sometimes Gloria seemed to be almost back to her old self, in her manner at least. These were only short bursts of energy, but then she was astute and forthright as ever.

  A week into the new year, Hannah visited at such a time. ‘What’s got into you, girl?’ Gloria demanded as she walked in.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re like the cat that’s got the cream,’ Gloria said. ‘It’s like there’s a light shining behind your eyes.’

  Hannah was nonplussed at how to answer. ‘Well, I … I don’t … I’m fine.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I think,’ Gloria said, leaning forward in the bed. ‘I think you are in love. That’s what I think.’

  She watched the blush rise in Hannah’s face and smiled in satisfaction. ‘Is it the doctor chap?’

  Useless to deny it, Hannah thought, and nodded. ‘And does he love you like you so obviously love him?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘You know, Hannah, I often think of the man I rejected to marry another with money to secure my future and I wonder if I made the right choice. I’ve had a good life, none better, and I’m not complaining, but I was only thinking the other day that I’ve never been loved, truly loved, by a man. And then there were no children in the marriage. Maybe that would have satisfied me, like it satisfies many women. I never felt the lack of children till you came into my house. You weren’t the only girl I’d helped, but you were the one I felt most drawn to. I wish I’d had a daughter like you, Hannah.’

  ‘I wish that too,’ Hannah said quietly.

  ‘All I’m saying is, my life is now nearly over,’ Gloria went on. ‘Don’t go all sad on me now, Hannah. There are things to say and not much time left. Life is too short for regrets. One day you’ll turn around and Angela will be grown and gone her own way and what will you have? A loveless marriage to a man you can hardly stand who enjoys tormenting you. That is no future for anyone. If you’ve found a man that loves you and that you love, go for it. Forget convention and the Catholic Church. Few know what your life is really like behind your own four walls.’

  Go for it! It was Gloria’s blessing for Hannah to take her stab at happiness. Oh, how she would miss that wise old lady.

  And yet for the moment they had to be careful. Not by word or deed could they let people have suspicions of their association. And none did, though many had commented on Hannah’s good spirits, her friendly smile and general happiness. ‘Proper tonic to come here,’ one old man commented. ‘Makes you almost feel better to see someone so cheerful.’

  ‘Put the doctor out of business if you’re not careful,’ said another with a dry laugh.

  For Hannah, these dismal, dark and cold winter days were beautiful and she felt warmed from the inside because she was loved; loved and wanted.

  Gloria Emmerson died on 3rd February 1959, the same day that it was announced on the wireless that Buddy Holly had died in a plane crash and also the day that Hannah first realised she might be pregnant.

  Amy phoned through the news of Gloria’s death. Hannah’d been in the kitchen, working things out on the calendar, and had just realised with a slight lurch of her heart that she should have had a period on the 6th January and now a month later there was still no sign. It must have been Christmas when she conceived, she thought. It had been the only time, apart from the first time, when they’d had sex without using contraceptives. Vic had insisted on that afterwards, but maybe it was a case of shutting the door after the horse had bolted.

  Part of Hannah was worried, for she knew stormy waters lay ahead, and yet part of her was elated, for now the die was cast, the path set.

  But for the moment, it was Gloria’s death and funeral that took precedence over everything and she resolved not to tell Vic yet. She shelved her own problems for the moment to give the woman she loved the type of funeral she deserved.

  Hannah gazed with stupefaction at the solicitor. ‘There must be some mistake,’ she said.

  When she’d been asked to attend the reading of Gloria’s will, she’d assumed that Gloria had left her some keepsake. She had some nice pieces of jewellery which Hannah had often admired, but never had she imagined that Gloria had left her the house.

  She glanced at Josie and Amy to each side of her, who’d both been left a sizeable settlement. Angela sat slightly behind and to her, Gloria had gifted some beautiful pendants, necklaces, bracelets and rings. Josie remembered the sapphire pendant Gloria had given to her on her tenth birthday which was still one of her most prized possessions.

  ‘No mistake I assure you, Mrs Bradley.’

  ‘But isn’t there anyone else?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ the solicitor said. ‘I believe there were few, if any, close relations, but the fact remains, Mrs Emmerson wished you to have the house and that’s that as I understand it.’

  There was nothing more to say. Hannah knew if Arthur had been present there would have been plenty said. He’d been furious when Angela and Hannah had been invited to the reading of the will the same day that Reg had called a board meeting that he dared not miss. He had expected a small bequest to them both and intended to strip Hannah of hers fairly sharpish. Not in his wildest imaginings had he thought Hannah would be left Gloria’s house. He wasn’t a bit pleased about it. In fact, he was blisteringly angry and Hannah was glad that they were within their own four walls and there was no one to witness his tirade, not even Angela, for Josie’s husband Phil had run her straight back to school.

  ‘The woman was obviously not of sound mind, giving one thousand pounds to Josie and that woman next door, a house to you and a few tawdry pieces of jewellery to my daughter.’

  ‘She was perfectly of right mind,’ Hannah retorted angrily. ‘And the jewellery she gave Angela is not tawdry – anything but. I should imagine Gloria thought Angela would always be provided for.’

  She looked Arthur steadily in the eye as she spoke and he recoiled slightly from the look and then snapped out, ‘I hope you are not insinuating anything by that remark. You are adequately clothed, fed and housed. You have no room for complaint. I even let you continue to work, though the wives of most of my colleagues don’t and many think it odd.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t know what they think, would I?’ Hannah said testily. ‘I’m never in a position to meet them anymore and yet I know we’ve both been invited to functions. What do they think, Arthur, that I’m some blubbering nervous wreck languishing at home? Don’t any of them express surprise that someone who suffers so badly from nerves can hold down a job at all?’

  ‘This is why I don’t take you to things,’ Arthur cried. ‘You embarrass me with your ability to make scenes.’

  ‘I’ve never embarrassed you.’

  ‘That’s surely for me to know.’

  ‘It’s your telling lies about me that would embarrass you,’ Hannah said. ‘That’s why
you won’t let me go with you, it’s because they’d find out what a liar you are.’

  ‘This discussion is getting us nowhere,’ Arthur said dismissively, ‘and is not in any case what we began talking about. What do you intend to do with Gloria’s house?’

  ‘Do with it?’

  ‘Yes, do with it,’ Arthur repeated, accentuating every word as if Hannah was an imbecile. ‘It’s stupidity to keep two houses. You must sell it of course.’

  ‘I have no intention of selling it.’

  ‘Come, come, Hannah! You know on marriage your property became mine, so I can insist you sell it.’

  Hannah wasn’t sure of the legal system regarding anything she had belonging to Arthur; the situation had never arisen before. But she knew in this case the house was solely and totally hers because the solicitor had explained it to her when he pressed a sealed letter into her hand while she was still reeling from the news that she was a home-owner. ‘This is from Mrs Emmerson who was most insistent that we give the letter to you after the will was read.’

  Hannah hadn’t opened it then. She knew the words of her friend whose loss she was still coming to terms with would reduce her to tears and she had the urge to be alone before she opened it. And her instincts had been right:

  Dear Hannah

  I am leaving you my house. I know you’ve always loved it, but I’m not leaving it to you for that reason, but because I believe many years ago, I did you a disservice in encouraging you to marry Arthur Bradley. Hannah, my dear, dear friend, you have suffered for years from rejection and betrayal and downright mental torture. I regret having any part in it. This is to try and redress the balance, Hannah, for I would hate you to be forced to stay with Arthur because you have nowhere to go.

  There is only one thing you cannot do to the house, and that is to sell it. You can live in it yourself, or rent it out, but if, in the next ten years, you try to sell it, it will revert to Josie. I am determined that Arthur will not benefit from the sale of my house and that is why it is a gift to you alone.

  You are still young and desirable and you deserve to be loved. Grasp life with both hands and before it is too late, have a chance of happiness.

  With all my deepest love

  Gloria

  The tears dropped onto the paper blurring some of the words, but it didn’t matter. She knew what Gloria was saying and she intended to leave Arthur and live in her house with Vic, but not yet, not till Josie’s baby was born.

  Her baby, Vic’s baby, she intended to keep and bring up herself and this time she would allow nothing to separate them. Her child’s parents might not be married, but that wouldn’t matter. He or she would be surrounded by love. She’d talk to Angela. She was too young to fully understand that she might have fallen in love with someone else, but Hannah would do her level best to explain it to her.

  So, with these thoughts still running around in her head, Hannah faced Arthur and said, ‘You have no claim on this house. It was given to me as a gift. I am unable to sell it anyway for ten years and if I try, it will revert to Josie.’

  His outrage was frightening to see. His whole face seemed to contort. It took on a reddish, purple hue and his furrowed brow glistened with sweat, his nostrils flared out, and spittle formed around his mouth.

  ‘You’re a pair of filthy conniving bastards,’ Arthur spat out. ‘Don’t think you’ll get away with it either of you. Christ, one day I’ll do for you, you stinking whore, see if I don’t. As for the other old bag, it’s a good job she’s bloody dead, that’s all I can say.’

  ‘Arthur, there’s no need for this,’ Hannah protested.

  ‘There’s every need, you fucking whore!’ Arthur screamed. ‘What are you anyway but a pile of shit? You and her together, a couple of slimy fucking buggers trying to do me out of what is rightfully mine.’

  ‘How in God’s name can it be rightfully yours?’ Hannah asked in amazement. She was becoming angry. What gave Arthur the right to act like this, spewing out his venom in obscene words?

  Arthur leapt forward and grasped Hannah’s arms. She struggled, but was held like a vice. Arthur really appeared to have lost control. Filthy invective was spat into her face, in a stream. ‘Fucking wanker, filthy trollop. Sodding stupid tart …’ and on and on Arthur went until Hannah could stand no more and, with an almighty heave, she freed her arms and turned from Arthur, intending to make for the door.

  His grip on her arm as he yanked her back was vicious. ‘Where the sodding hell do you think you’re going when I’m talking to you?’

  She shook his arm off. ‘Don’t you dare do that to me!’ she cried. ‘You’re talking to me? Don’t make me laugh. You’re yelling at me and I’ll stand no more of it.’

  ‘You’ll stand what I say. I’m your husband.’

  ‘Yes, more’s the pity.’

  The punch took her by surprise, stunning her for a moment or two, but then she was upon him with her nails scoring his face and feet kicking out at him. When his arms went around her in a grip she knew she couldn’t break, she brought her knee up sharply into his groin and he loosed her and fell to the floor with a groan.

  She felt no sympathy for him and turned away, only stopping to pick up her bag and coat before stepping into the night. She knew there was little likelihood of Arthur following her because he craved respectability and would be horrified at the neighbours knowing their business.

  Hannah hurried on, her coat collar turned up, her head down, glad of the dark night that hid her battered face from view, and she let herself into Gloria’s house with a sigh of relief. She drew the heavy curtains before she turned lights on, not wanting Amy to think intruders were next door and feel obliged to investigate, because she’d hate her to see what Arthur had done to her face. One eye was almost closed and her nose had bled down her face and spattered her blouse and when Hannah felt gingerly around her mouth with her tongue, some of her teeth seemed loose. She wasn’t surprised because she’d tasted blood in her mouth and she bathed carefully at her cut lip, glad that the following day was Sunday and she hadn’t to go to work and face Vic.

  Everything ached when she woke next morning and when she had a bath to help her aching body, she was shocked by the mass of bruises. The massive black one on her arm she could remember getting, but she was covered with others. Obviously Arthur’s fists had made their mark, but she’d been so involved in lashing out at him that she hadn’t noticed at the time.

  She spent a lazy day resting her aching limbs, watching a lot of television and bathing her face often. She thought sometime through the day that Arthur might seek her out, because he knew where she’d be, well aware she’d never travel to Josie’s with her face in such a mess. She waited in some trepidation, but he never came near.

  On Monday morning, still without a word or sign from Arthur, she returned to the house after she knew he’d have left for work. Then in clean clothes, she made up her face with care.

  She thought she’d done a good job, but Vic was immediately shocked on seeing her. ‘What happened to you?’

  She sighed. ‘A lot. We need to talk, Vic.’

  ‘Did Arthur do that to your face?’

  ‘Not now, Vic. There isn’t time. There’s a queue of people outside. We’ll talk at lunchtime.’

  And so the day began and because Hannah knew the patients would be curious and because she didn’t want them to form the correct assumptions and start speculating on the reason for it, she had her story ready. She told a few selected for their ability to gossip about stupidly tripping over the hearth rug and catching her face on the hearth and accepted their sympathy.

  Vic was told the truth that lunchtime and was flabbergasted at Arthur’s reaction. ‘Arthur loves money,’ Hannah said. ‘Apart from Angela, it’s all he really cares about and he saw Gloria’s house only in terms of how much he could sell it for. But she knew him, knew how his mind would work and outfoxed him. That’s what he couldn’t stand.’

  ‘It still seems excessive, to la
sh out over that.’

  ‘He probably thought I was in on the whole thing,’ Hannah said. ‘I wasn’t at all. You could have knocked me down with a feather. I thought she might leave me a few choice bits of jewellery, but certainly not her house. You see, Vic, Gloria knew about us. I didn’t tell her, she just guessed, and she virtually told me to leave Arthur. She told me to grab at happiness while I could, but she also knew I’d find it difficult to leave Arthur because I had nowhere to go. That house I live in is his alone, a gift from some long-lost uncle. I don’t think he could be forced to sell it, even if we separated legally. These things take time anyway. I’d have to have somewhere to live meantime.’

  ‘You mean …?’

  ‘I mean I love you and want to marry you. We can’t marry, but we can live together.’

  ‘That’ll suit me.’

  ‘Will it suit your parents?’

  ‘They’ll be fine about it,’ Vic said, knowing they wouldn’t. He was the son they constantly boasted of, the one who’d got somewhere. They would like a big fancy wedding for him, with photographs of it in the paper, so that they’d be the talk of the town. And his bride – a beautiful young woman, they imagined, from a good family who entered the married state as a virgin, not a woman estranged from her husband, who’d already had children.

  ‘As soon as Josie is over the birth of the baby and I can explain to her, I’m ready to leave,’ Hannah said. ‘And Vic, there’s a reason for the rush.’ At this she put her hands across the table and clutched at his. ‘You’re going to be a daddy.’

  Vic felt shock waves go all through him. He wanted to be a father, yes, eventually, but not this way. It must have been that time at Christmas, he thought. What a bloody, bloody mess! He’d taken precautions since, when they’d made love sometimes at lunchtimes and sometimes when he’d visited Hannah in the evenings after Arthur had gone out on business of his own. He wondered if Hannah knew it was against the law for a doctor to have a relationship with a woman patient. Probably not. But he did. God, if he was struck off through this! It wouldn’t only be the end of his life, but his parents’, who’d gone through so much to put him where he was.