by Anne Bennett
‘She does, Angela,’ Josie insisted. ‘Love isn’t something you just get so much of and if you love one person, it has to be taken off another. If I had another child now, I wouldn’t love my two any less.’
‘That’s different.’
‘It’s no different,’ Josie said firmly. ‘This isn’t because you still hold a candle for Matthew, is it?’
‘No!’ Angela said, but was honest enough to admit, ‘I did in the beginning. When I found out about him being my brother. I thought he was the love of my life, but I know now how silly I was then.’
Josie hid a smile, for Angela was talking about just months before, but even she had to admit this last business had matured Angela overnight. She had the feeling she was marking time as they all were. She was glad she got on so well with the students who called and seemed to like nothing better than sitting with them drinking coffee and discussing the world situation.
Vietnam was on everyone’s lips then and Angela couldn’t see what good America’s involvement would be. Surely it would escalate the problem and make it worse? And she was more than keen to join the march organised for April that year to demonstrate against US policy.
She kept her eyes and mind focused on the march, because it helped keep thoughts of her father at bay. Mr Morriatty had been to see her, to explain procedure. He was concerned too about the house being left empty for so long – not that he wanted Angela to live there, a young girl alone, especially as the housekeeper had left in high dudgeon, as soon as she’d found out what had happened. She swept out, saying she’d always been a respectable woman and had always worked for respectable people and she wouldn’t have put her foot over the threshold if she’d had the least idea of what Arthur was into.
So Angela couldn’t stay there, it would never do, but neither was it good to leave a house vacant for any length of time. Arthur must make a decision to either let the property or put it on the market. But then, Mr Morriatty, worried about Angela’s welfare, was trying to get Arthur to make some provision for her, but the man seemed to have almost forgotten the girl.
In fact, if it hadn’t been for the priest, Father Fitzgerald, who Arthur seemed to have a measure of respect for, and who’d talked to him after the solicitor had had a word, he doubted he would have got him to agree to anything. But the priest seemed a genuine kind of chap and a friend of the whole family. He’d known Angela since she was born, so he was obviously going to be concerned for her and apparently he’d been to see her quite a few times.
He really was relieved that Angela had such support, for he doubted at the end of all this if her father would be any good to her. He wouldn’t agree to see her – not that Angela showed much desire to visit him and you could hardly blame her, but he wouldn’t agree to write or phone either. And there were times when Arthur was barely lucid, raving about his wife much of the time.
He knew the psychiatrists were worried. Arthur wasn’t reacting terribly well to the tests they were giving him and they were as concerned as he was.
This he kept from Angela as much as possible, feeling she had enough to cope with. He thought it a good thing her family had stepped in, whatever had gone before, because if it had been left to her father, she could have gone to the devil.
Hannah was surprised that Angela was taking such an interest in world affairs and presumed it was the influence of Josie. To an extent it was; Angela apparently had a high regard for Josie and Phil, and also for the students they hung around with. Few of them knew why Angela was there, being more interested in world affairs than scandal, and even fewer cared, and Angela was grateful for their acceptance of her and gradually her self-esteem began seeping back.
Because of them she had a glimpse of what life could have been like for her, if she’d worked, if she’d taken her O levels and her A levels and gained a place at university. Instead of the indulged and vacuous life she had led that had given her so little satisfaction, she could have worked for a degree. But perhaps all wasn’t lost and she could still do that. Maybe she could talk it through with Josie and her mother after the trial.
And then suddenly, there was to be no trial. Mr Morriatty explained to Angela that Arthur had suffered a complete physical and mental collapse. His mind had finally snapped under the strain.
‘What does it mean?’ Hannah asked when Angela came with Josie to give her the news.
‘The medical people think he’s unfit for the rigours of a trial,’ Josie explained. ‘He’s been sent to Broadmoor, a place for the criminally insane.’
Hannah gave a shudder for it sounded so horrific, but it was really only what he deserved.
‘And what about you?’
‘Mr Morriatty is applying to set up some allowance for me from Daddy’s funds,’ Angela said. ‘He will be in charge of it until I am twenty-five. He doesn’t think Daddy will ever be well enough to leave the hospital, but you can never be sure. I can’t sell the house, for example, or strip his bank account, but the house could be let out and I’ve told Mr Morriatty to push ahead with it.’
‘What will you do with the money?’ Hannah asked.
‘Well, I’ve been toying with the idea of going back to college to take O levels,’ Angela said. ‘The allowance would come in very handy.’
Hannah was pleased that Angela seemed to have a goal to aim for, but knew better than to go overboard about it. That would be the surest way for her to back off.
She talked it over with Vic that night. ‘If she was to take the courses at Sutton College and agree to live here, I’d be perfectly happy,’ Hannah said.
‘I thought you wanted her and Matthew to get on,’ Vic reminded her.
‘I did,’ Hannah said with a sigh, ‘but with the relationship they had, maybe that’s rather a tall order. The age of miracles is probably past.’
They amassed in various parks all over the city with their banners and their slogans, chanting and singing songs. ‘It’s very well organised,’ Josie said. ‘Groups are all meeting up at scheduled points so that everyone can converge on the city centre, finishing up in Chamberlain Square.’
Angela was amazed by the people. It wasn’t just students, but many, judging by their clothes, from all walks of life and though the police were out in force, they didn’t appear threatening.
It was as they were getting ready to move off that Angela spotted Matthew in a crowd with Birmingham University scarves around their necks. Angela saw with fury that there were nudges towards her and sniggers from some of Matthew’s friends. They’d known Angela to be Matthew’s girlfriend, even fiancée, and had to be told the story that they were related and couldn’t marry.
Angela stamped over to them in anger. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded of Matthew.
‘Same as you, I expect.’
‘Don’t give me that. You’re not bothered about things like this.’
‘How do you know what I’m interested in?’
‘I knew you quite well at one time.’
‘Not deeply,’ Matthew said. ‘We were only scratching the surface. I happen to believe that the Vietnam War, which we are staring in the face now, will be long and bloody. I think it will kill many people and will solve nothing in the end and I think the US should keep out of it. They won’t, but at least we should register our disapproval.’
‘Is that really what you think?’
‘Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Why?’
‘It’s just so exactly what I think.’
‘Well, there you are then. We’re on the same side for a change, so you can stop attacking me. How about it?’
Matthew was looking at Angela with the half-smile on his face that used to make her heart turn somersaults yet she now felt nothing. Matthew was as good-looking as ever, but the chemistry between them was gone and she found herself smiling back.
‘Shall we be friends then?’ Matthew asked and Angela shrugged. ‘If you like.’
Matthew linked his arm through Angela’s and she waited for th
e icy thrill to run through her body, but it never came. ‘Your friends have gone on,’ she said.
‘I’ll catch up with them again,’ Matthew said carelessly. ‘Come on, they’re almost ready to move off.’
Josie saw the confrontation between Angela and Matthew and would have joined them, but Phil held her back. ‘Let them be. They’ll sort it out better on their own,’ he said. ‘You know, I feel more sorry for Angela than Matthew. He at least had the love of a mother till he was almost grown and now that his mother is on the way out, he finds his birth mother. Few are as lucky. Angela’s life has been really screwed up these last years. She’s still fighting the demons inside her.’
‘Well, she’s winning,’ Josie said. ‘One of those demons is her mother and Angela told me earlier she’s prepared to live back at Hannah’s for a while and see how it goes. Hannah will be beside herself. She’s meeting us in town with all the children and Angela is telling her then.’
And Hannah saw them, her son and her daughter, together as she never thought to see them, as they turned down towards Chamberlain Square where she and Vic with Josie’s children and their own waited to greet them.
Hannah suddenly felt as if her life was very blessed and she silently thanked God for the good things in her life. In her mind’s eye, Hannah could see the future rolling in front of her as she thought it would never be. She saw all her family sitting down to a meal for the first time, being together for Christmas, maybe even having a family holiday.
The one depressing thing in her life, and Matthew’s of course, was Marian’s imminent death and Hannah hoped when it happened she would be of some help to the son she was becoming so very fond of. She knew she’d gained his respect and could only hope it would blossom into love. But if it didn’t, she was grateful for what she had now, for it was far more than she’d ever dared hope for.
Angela, too, now spoke to her as if she was a human being and not like a slug that had crawled from under a stone, or some object of hatred. She hoped in time she might have a proper relationship with her daughter too. She loved her so very much and prayed that eventually she’d come to believe it.
But above it all was the all-abiding and consuming love she and Vic had for one another. Hannah knew some people would never experience what she had and she considered it worth all she had gone through. Vic was such a lovely, special person, always there when she needed him and generous-hearted to a fault. She hugged him close to her and he smiled down at her, the smile that still had the power to turn her legs to jelly. He too had seen Angela and Matthew arm in arm and he knew how it would affect Hannah and bending towards her, he said, ‘Have I told you today that I love you, Mrs Humphries?’ and at the small shake of her head, he kissed her gently on the lips.
The rally was over, the people were dispersing. Matthew still had hold of Angela’s hand and he was pulling her through the milling crowd. Angela was laughing, her eyes shining and then she caught sight of Hannah and raised her free hand in a wave. ‘Mum!’ she shouted.
It was too much for Hannah to see her daughter and son, so happy and easy together, and then for her daughter to wave and address her like any other daughter might have done and tears trickled down her cheeks. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by Adam. ‘Dad,’ he cried. ‘Our Mom’s crying. What you crying for, Mom?’
Hannah tried to take a grip on herself. ‘Because I’m so happy,’ she said at last. Adam had never heard of anyone crying because they were happy before and he looked uncomprehendingly at his mother and saw then that apart from the tears, she didn’t look sad at all and he couldn’t understand it. ‘That’s plain daft,’ he decided in the end.
But Hannah barely heard him, for Matthew and Angela had reached her and both had put their arms around her in a hug as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Hannah held them tight and thought she would burst with happiness and then her eyes met Vic’s and she saw the shine of tears there too.
Suddenly Josie and Phil were beside them to reclaim their children and Hannah looked at her whole family surrounding her and thought she must be one of the happiest and luckiest women in the world. And she knew she had been wrong; the age of miracles was alive and well.
Acknowledgements
I have many people to thank for this book coming into being. First of all, there is my good friend Ruth Adshead, who helps me so much, and my husband and four children for their love, encouragement and support. Special thanks must go to Judith Evans at Waterstones in Birmingham city centre, both because of her enthusiasm for my books and introducing me to Peter Hawtin of HarperCollins in May 2001. Thank you, Peter, for being so positive about me. Many thanks too go to Susan Opie, my editor at HarperCollins, and Maxine Hitchcock, my assistant editor, both of whom helped me to take the book apart and put it together again, and my agent Judith Murdoch for believing in me and giving me positive feedback. I feel immense gratitude to you all.
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About the Author
Anne Bennett was born in a back-to-back house in the Horefair district of Birmingham. The daughter of Roman Catholic, Irish immigrants, she grew up in a tight-knit community where she was taught to be proud of her heritage. She considers herself to be an Irish Brummie and feels therefore that she has a foot in both cultures.
She has four children and four grandchildren. For many years she taught in schools to the north of Birmingham.
An accident put paid to her teaching career and after moving to North Wales, Anne turned to the other great love of her life and began to write seriously. Walking Back to Happiness is her fifth book.
Also by the Author
A LITTLE LEARNING
LOVE ME TENDER
A STRONG HAND TO HOLD
PACK UP YOUR TROUBLES
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2002
Copyright © Anne Bennett 2002.
Anne Bennett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Source ISBN: 9780007139811
Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2013 ISBN: 9780007534692
Version: 2013–10–03
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