A Bouquet of Barbed Wire (31 page)

* * *

In the morning she watched as he helped Prue down the path and into the car she had lent them. Images of the night swam in her brain across her line of vision when she saw the
two of them together. Making love again when they finally got to bed, his saying, ‘Now we can sleep. I’ve always wanted to
sleep
with you,’ and holding her as if he were the mother and she were the child. He was holding Prue in the same way now, she noticed, protectively, and she could not decide what she felt, if it were jealousy or relief. Certainly there was a feeling that she had had what she was not entitled to and now it was restored to its rightful owner; but the restoration hurt nevertheless. No matter what he had said in the night (‘You can count on me always, I mean that. Just pick up the phone any time’) there was no getting round the facts. It shocked her that she seemed to see people in terms of ownership, of property. She knew it would have shocked him even more. She envied him his sloppy, free, young outlook on sexuality and pitied him too; it would not last long, she thought, when brought up against nappies and teething and wind. He was too young; he had not yet had time to learn the emotional laws of cause and effect, that actions produce results, whether in terms of babies or trauma. He still imagined, as if rooted in a charmed circle, that immunity was his right, that he could say with certainty, Nothing bad will follow from this act of mine, whereas this could only be accurately said in retrospect, in the past tense, and even then how many years did it take to be sure? Yet it was easy to believe the worst, for suddenly with a flash of premonition such as she had never experienced before, she thought, Prue is going to have trouble with that baby. She simply could not
see
it going well: it was as if she really had vision and saw darkness and trouble. She blamed him at once, lovingly but fiercely, as she had blamed him (as well as herself) for making it hard for the first time to look Prue straight in the eye. This time it was all his fault. He had called her Cassandra, and now that was who she was.

T
HE FLAT
seemed strange to Prue, as if she had been away for a very long time. She moved around it slowly, awkward with the child, like a dog sniffing at the furniture of home after a spell in kennels. Suddenly it wasn’t home any more, just a place she used to live in.

Gavin said, ‘Sit down, honey. Take it easy,’ which was so unlike him that she wanted to laugh.

‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘I just want to mooch around.’

He followed her into the bedroom where she stood staring at the bed. He misinterpreted her look and said, ‘Yeah, good idea, why not lie down for a bit?’

She shook her head violently. ‘It’s funny, I keep seeing them there. Can we sleep in the other room?’

‘What, on the floor?’

‘No, on the sofa.’

‘It isn’t big enough.’

‘It is if we snuggle up.’

‘With you in that shape. Can you imagine it?’

‘Yes, I am pretty big.’ She surveyed herself in the mirror: she looked tired, untidy and huge. ‘Do you think it’s all right?’

‘What?’

‘The baby, of course.’ She looked at him in amazement. ‘Our baby.’

‘Yes, of course it is. They said it was.’

‘I know.’ She looked back at herself, doubtfully. ‘Pity we
can’t take it out, have a look to make sure, and then pop it back in the oven like a cake.’

‘Why pop it back?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Well, if it’s okay let’s keep it out and get back to normal.’

‘You said if.’

‘What?’ He was vague, starting to unpack her things.

‘You said
if
it’s okay.’

‘So what?’

‘Don’t you think it is?’

‘Honey, how should I know? They said it was, so it is. Why don’t you lie down, huh? You look all-in.’

‘I don’t like this bed.’

‘Oh, Prue, come on. That’s old history.’

‘No. It’s here, all round us. And I don’t think the baby’s all right. I’m worried.’ She stared at her bulging stomach as if she could X-ray it with her eyes. ‘Oh, I wish I could see it.’

‘They said it was okay,’ he repeated patiently.

‘I know. But it’s
my
baby. They don’t know enough about it.’

‘Honey, they’re doctors, for God’s sake. If they don’t know, who does?’

She wandered back into the sitting-room and he followed her as if it were unsafe to leave her alone.

‘Gavin, you do want this baby, don’t you?’

‘Well, I don’t want any other baby, that’s for sure.’

‘What kind of answer is that?’

He said very slowly. ‘I was joking.’

‘Oh.’

‘You know. A joke. Funny. People laugh.’

She went on as if she had not heard him. ‘Because I want this baby more than anything in the world. And … that night … you … you hit my baby.’

The colour came up in his face. ‘Now look, you know how I feel about that night. A lot of things happened I’m
ashamed of. I hit you all over. I can never make it up to you. I know you asked for it but I still shouldn’t have done it.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I deserved every bit, you were right, after what I did. But the baby didn’t deserve it. Not my baby.’ She remembered saying these words to him at the time, before she blacked out, and she thought from the look on his face that the echo had reached him too.

‘I was out of my mind. You know I didn’t mean any of it. Hell, I’ve told you often enough.’

She sat down on the sofa and he sat at once opposite her as though relieved she had come to rest. She said, ‘Gavin, did I trap you into marrying me?’

‘Trap
me?’

‘Mm. With the baby.’

He thought about it. ‘Well, I guess we’d’ve gotten married anyway eventually. The baby just gave us a nudge. I mean it was a shock you getting pregnant like that when we thought we were safe. But I guess these things happen all the time.’

How thoroughly she had deceived him. And he her, as it now appeared. She said, ‘I thought you wanted to marry me. I thought we were in love.’

‘Sure we were. We are. But that didn’t mean we had to get married so fast. That’s all I’m saying.’

‘So if I hadn’t got pregnant you wouldn’t have married me.’

‘Honey, now look
here
. We were in love, we’d have gone on just as we were till we both finished school, then maybe we’d have travelled a bit, I don’t know. Maybe got jobs or gone back to the States, I don’t
know
. You’re talking about two or three
years
. If we’d still felt the same after two or three years then I guess that’s when we’d have gotten married. Hell, we’re not
old.’

She said, ‘But I wanted a baby. As soon as we fell in love I wanted a baby; I wanted
your
baby, I wanted to be married. Not playing about, not going steady, not having a silly affair, but grown-up, and married and pregnant. I wanted real life.’

‘Are you telling me you did it on purpose?’ He was staring at her as if she had said something really awful.

‘Yes. Of course I did. I was careful at first, then I stopped, and even then it took ages. I thought you’d guess but you didn’t.’

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘No, I certainly didn’t.’

‘Well, there you are.’ She clasped her hands round her stomach in the way that had become second nature.

He burst out, ‘But it’s so
irresponsible
. What if we’d had a row or you’d met someone else or I’d got run over, what then?’

‘What d’you mean, what then?’

‘Well, you’d have been stuck with a baby.’

She repeated simply, amazed at his obtuseness, ‘But I wanted real life.’

S
HE BECAME
convinced of impending disaster and wrote letters to carry around in her bag. The one to her parents said, ‘Dearest Mummy and Daddy, I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad daughter to you but I couldn’t wait to grow up. Everything was always so easy and soft for me but it wasn’t for you. I thought if only I could have some trouble and problems I’d be grown-up like you. I wanted to stop receiving and start giving. I wanted to be involved in something frightening that would be too much for me, and when I met Gavin I knew he was it. Do you remember that dream I used to have when I was small, the one I could never describe properly? Everything in it was brighter and bigger and louder than normal, and all the textures of things were rougher. It was more real than real. I don’t have it any more, there’s no need. But I seem to have overdone it, I think. It’s all burnt up. The trouble is, it’s so hard to get the dosage right, like scientists with a new drug. But don’t worry, it’s all been worth it. And I do love you both. Prue.’

To Gavin she wrote, ‘Darling, I don’t blame you at all. No one could love anyone as much as I love you and survive.’

G
AVIN PHONED
almost every day. Cassie had never believed he would; she had tried to put the whole thing out of her mind either from shame it had happened at all or misery that it would never be repeated. But the phone calls came, so regularly that she found herself waiting for them, and if he missed a day she did not know how to occupy herself till the next. She wrote longer letters to the twins, feeling that this was the one area left in which she could still behave dutifully.

‘Cassandra, how are you?’ He always said the same things.

‘I’m all right. How’s Prue?’ She talked to Prue, occasionally, on the phone, but always when he was out, hating her own calculation. And he always phoned her from college.

‘She’s okay. A bit odd. Kind of dreamy. I don’t know.’

‘She’s retreating,’ said Cassie. (How it all flooded back.) ‘She’ll be all right when the baby’s here.’

‘I hope so.’ He sighed. She pictured him shaking his head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Oh yes. Lots of women get a bit funny about this time. It’s natural. Don’t worry.’

‘I wish I could see you.’

‘No.’ Too quick. Was she really so scared?

‘No, I guess not. Is your old man back yet?’

‘No.’

‘Hm. I hate to think of you there all alone.’

‘I’m all right.’ She caught herself smiling at the concern in his voice.

‘I love you, Cassandra.’

She couldn’t reply.

‘Oh, don’t get alarmed. I love Prue as well, it’s just like I said, I’m in love with her but I don’t understand her, I don’t know what we’re meant to be doing, either of us. But I really do love you.’

And you know nothing about me, she thought in a panic. Nothing at all. The kind of person I am you might not even like. And I love you too, whatever that means.

‘You can’t say it, I know,’ he said calmly, shattering her. ‘That’s your kind of loyalty. It doesn’t matter, I quite understand. I’ve got mine too, only it’s different. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ she said, her eyes closed, the phone wet in the palm of her hand.

‘Call you tomorrow. Take care of yourself, Cassandra.’

S
ARAH SAID
one night when she could no longer restrain herself, ‘What are you going to do?’

He seemed surprised; he said, ‘What d’you mean? About what?’

‘About Prue. About your wife. I mean you can’t just leave things the way they are, can you?’

‘Can’t I?’ He looked at her longingly. ‘That’s all I want to do. What more do I need if you’re here?’ But her face must have betrayed her, for he went on quickly, ‘It’s not enough for you, though, is it? Do you want to go out, see your friends? You must do whatever you like. Don’t let your life come to a standstill because of me.’

‘I haven’t got many friends. Not really. It’s just … that I’ve never lived with anyone before. I don’t know how it goes.’

He took her hand, saying quite tenderly, ‘You’re bored, aren’t you? That’s quite natural. Would you like to go out more? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, just tell me. I’m a bit of a stick in the mud, I’m afraid, but I only need prodding.’

She shied away, frightened: he was at once too near and yet not near enough. ‘It’s not that. I’m worried. There are other people in your life, surely you should be attending to them, not sitting here with me all the time.’

He smiled. ‘It seems we’re both telling the other to go out and neither of us wants to go.’

Sarah said stubbornly, ‘I’m worried about your wife and daughter. I can’t help it.’

His face darkened. ‘They’re perfectly all right. Prue’s out of hospital and back with her husband where she belongs. If she wants to live with someone who ill-treats her, that’s her affair. And Cassie … well, I showed you the letter.’

‘That hurt you very much, didn’t it?’

‘Is that so unreasonable? It was a shock. She’s not the person I knew. All these years and I had no idea how she felt, what she’d done. I’ve been living with a stranger.’

And you still are, she thought, terrified. Am I supposed to make up for both of them? I can’t do it; there isn’t enough inside me. And you never gave me a chance to tell you things, you were always in trouble yourself and I had to be strong. Just loving you isn’t enough. She said, ‘I think she was only trying to make you feel better—more equal, if you like.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t see it like that. Tit for tat and that makes it all right?’

She said desperately, ‘No, but when you saw her, you must have felt something.’

‘Yes, chilled.’

‘But she’s your wife, she must be terribly upset.’

‘I don’t think so,’ he said equably. ‘But you obviously are Do you want me to go, is that it?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’ And was not even sure if she meant yes.

‘Look,’ he said, ‘you were the one who was upset when we had nowhere to go. When I had to go home all the time and we couldn’t meet. That’s why I took this place. If you don’t like it, say so.’

‘Oh, you’re so
absolute.’
She looked around wildly for help. The room had become a prison. The meals and the bed and the television, all the routine, and always his presence and the knowledge that he was the one with problems and
therefore entitled to be difficult. She even thought it might have been all right if only they had not been together all the time.

‘Sarah, I need you.’ He took hold of both her hands and she wanted to pull away and scream. ‘My life is in pieces. Nothing, absolutely nothing, is the way I believed it was. I love you, you’re all I have left. But if it’s all too much for you, you’ve only to say so.’