A Week in Winter: A Novel (16 page)

The thing which had always drawn her to Maudie, Posy decided, was that she didn’t fuss. There were no emotional confrontations, no hidden agendas. There was a detachment which gave you room to breathe—yet she was not indifferent. The point was that she didn’t seek to possess you
whilst offering her love. Several years ago, Posy had tried to explain this concept to her mother, without success.

‘It’s easy for Maudie,’ had been the answer. ‘She’s not related to you. She’s not your real grandmother. You wait until you have children of your own and then you’ll understand.’

This continual inference that Posy was ungrateful, disloyal, an unnatural daughter, was wearing—and hurtful. She’d never been able to see why she couldn’t be allowed to love both her mother and her grandmother; couldn’t understand why there had to be a choice.

‘Of course you can’t,’ her mother had retorted. ‘You’ve never made the least effort to understand my feelings. You choose to ally yourself with someone who’s made my life miserable and expect me to be delighted about it. How Maudie must be laughing!’

‘She doesn’t laugh,’ the young Posy had protested. ‘We don’t talk about you at all.’

This assurance, apparently, had not been as comforting as she’d hoped and the difficulty remained unresolved. Her father was much more reasonable and had done as much as he could to ease the situation.

Posy dug her toes into Polonius’s back in an attempt to relieve her feelings, remembering the telephone conversation with her father on Christmas Day. He’d been cheerful, thanking her for his present, asking after Maudie. She’d managed to talk to him almost as if nothing had happened—it was easier at a distance—and then the boys had taken their turn. Her mother, it seemed, was too busy with the lunch to come to the telephone but sent her love, and Posy had felt irritated and hurt that she couldn’t be bothered to leave the turkey for five minutes to wish her a happy Christmas. The call had unsettled her, reminding her of past Christmases, making her feel guilty. Eventually, after several glasses of wine, she’d blurted it all out to Maudie and then burst into silly, pathetic weeping. Maudie’s reaction had been so unexpected, however, that she’d been brought up short, sniffling into a tissue, wide-eyed with surprise.

‘Good grief!’ she’d said, bottle poised above her glass. ‘You amaze me. Patrick, of all people. I’d never have believed he had the gumption.’

Despite her shock, another emotion had penetrated Posy’s confusion. For a brief moment she’d seen the situation through Maudie’s eyes; seen her father as a man, independent of his family. For those few seconds she’d been able to think of him, not as a father, not as a husband, but as a stranger, and a new emotion had stirred deep down inside her. She’d tried
to hold on to it but it had eluded her; the moment had passed, but she’d been subtly changed by it. She’d realised that Maudie expected her to approach it as another adult might and she’d felt flattered but at the same time affronted. After all, it was her father they were discussing. Nevertheless Maudie’s reaction had comforted her. It reflected Maudie herself: detached but human. Yet surely she couldn’t approve? She’d almost immediately apologised.

‘Sorry,’ she’d said. ‘You took me by surprise. It sounds so un-Patrick-like. Are you absolutely certain?’

Posy had answered that she was quite certain but that she didn’t really want to talk about it. This wasn’t quite true but she couldn’t bear to discuss her feelings, even with Maudie, yet she’d felt rather deflated when Maudie had taken her at her word.

‘I can understand that,’ she’d said. ‘It takes a bit of getting used to, I imagine. Just don’t get things out of proportion.’

Easier said than done. It had seemed all wrong then, on Christmas Day, after eating the goose and opening the presents, to spoil the festive atmosphere. Now, she wished that she’d had the courage to talk it through, describe her feelings, but it was difficult to raise the subject again. How was it to be done?

‘By the way, you know what I was saying about Dad having an affair …?’ Or, ‘So you don’t think that being unfaithful is all that bad, then?’ No, she simply couldn’t just mention it as casually as though she were asking what they would be eating for supper. Perhaps an opportunity might arise quite naturally and she’d be able to take advantage of it. Posy settled back in her chair and tried to concentrate on her book.

Apparently absorbed in her knitting, Maudie was aware of Posy’s preoccupation with things other than her book. She’d been furious with herself for her spontaneous reaction to Posy’s disclosure, yet instinctively she’d held back from sympathising. She didn’t quite know why—after all, it must have been a frightful shock for the poor child—nevertheless she’d resisted the urge to become affected by Posy’s evident distaste. Maudie didn’t approve of adultery but there were sometimes extenuating circumstances. She considered it either heroic or just plain stupid to remain married to Selina for thirty years and had a sneaking sympathy for Patrick’s outburst. At the same time she was amazed by it. She’d respected Posy’s
request, and they hadn’t discussed it since, but she’d given it a great deal of thought.

Rooting about for another ball of wool, she was remembering Hector’s reaction to Patrick’s request for Selina’s hand. Naturally, he’d known about the younger man’s attachment to Selina and her reciprocal affection but he’d been unhappy about agreeing to an engagement.

‘Nice enough fellow,’ he’d admitted privately to Maudie, ‘but there doesn’t seem much
to
him, if you see what I mean. Still, Selina seems very fond of him …’

Maudie had remained silent, resisting the urge to support Patrick’s suit. The thought of a married Selina, a Selina who lived somewhere else, a Selina who would no longer be able to ruin the peace by moods and sulks, was too wonderful to contemplate. Guessing that enthusiasm on her part might make Hector suspicious she’d held her tongue. To Daphne, however, she’d been much more forthcoming.

‘Oh, my dear,’ she’d replied at once, ‘I couldn’t agree more. Much better all round if Hector gives his blessing cheerfully. Selina is quite determined to have her way so he might as well give in gracefully. Of course, Hilda would have had a fit.’

‘Would she?’ Maudie had been intrigued. ‘But Patrick’s so … so spotless. He’s so utterly
nice.
Naturally, he’s rather cool to me but that’s because he’s been brainwashed by Selina and regards me as the wicked stepmother. Even so, he can’t help being very polite, which irritates Selina no end. She longs for him to be devastatingly rude to me but the poor boy simply cannot overcome his inherent niceness. From what you’ve told me about her I should have thought that Hilda would have loved him. His manners are so good.’

‘She would have approved of his being a well-brought-up young man but it wouldn’t have been quite enough. Where her daughters were concerned she was very fussy. “He doesn’t quite suit.” It was such a favourite expression of hers. She would have wanted a stronger character for Selina and she’d have probably been right. Once the first flush passes I fear that she’ll walk all over him.’

‘I must admit that you have a point.’ Maudie had shrugged. ‘Every time he takes his jacket off I expect to see the word “Welcome” printed on his chest. Still, there’s nothing I can do about it. She certainly wouldn’t listen to me. Hector must do what he thinks best.’

‘What does he say about it?’

‘Much what you’ve said Hilda would say. But he hates being cast in the role of unsympathetic father and Selina will soon win him over. I have to say that Patrick shows up very well when Hector’s hectoring and doing the heavy father act. He stands up to him very bravely and looks quite zealous on occasions.’

Daphne had chuckled. ‘Young Lochinvar has come out of the West. Yes, Patrick’s exactly the sort who needs a cause, isn’t he?’

Now, as Maudie attached the new ball of wool to her knitting an idea occurred to her.

‘I do begin to wonder,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘whether your father’s so-called affair isn’t little more than helping some damsel in distress. However, we won’t talk about it if you’d rather not…’ She hesitated, fearing that she was speaking out of turn, but Posy looked up from her book almost eagerly so she decided to continue a little further. ‘He’s a very chivalrous man, you know, and a very kind one. It’s possible that things might have got rather out of hand but perhaps we shouldn’t be too hard on him. Your mother has many excellent qualities but she’s probably a bit short on the kind of affection that your father needs. Poor old Patrick. It would be just his luck to be caught out in what is probably little more than an act of compassion.’

She paused again but this time Posy seemed very ready to talk. ‘Mum did say that she wasn’t a dolly bird, this … Mary.’ It was still oddly difficult to use her name. ‘She said she was a boring nonentity with a crippled child.’

Maudie swallowed down a sigh of relief. So her intuition was probably sound. ‘Well then. It’s just possible that they’ve got a bit tangled up emotionally. It can happen very easily, you know. Oh, I can well imagine that it horrifies you to think of your father as a man with ordinary needs but you must try to be adult about it, Posy. I’m not condoning it but a small allowance of compassion might not come amiss.’

‘It’s just,’ Posy cast her book aside and drew up her knees, ‘like, you know, it’s not as if he’s young or anything. It makes him look pathetic’

‘Lack of dignity in the old is so shocking to the young,’ murmured Maudie. ‘It’s
their
prerogative to be shocking or outrageous or even simply sexy. We’ve all felt it. That’s why your mother hates me, of course.’

Posy stared at her. ‘Hates you?’

Maudie raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t pretend that it comes as a surprise.’

‘No, well, perhaps “hates” is a bit extreme but I just meant that I can’t see the relevance.’

‘Can’t you? Well, think about it. Selina was nearly thirteen when her father married me. Her mother was not long dead and she was obliged to face several uncomfortable facts. First of all, she felt a sense of betrayal, which is probably exactly how you are feeling now. It was a shock to learn that Hector was not satisfied with being merely a father, that he needed other company and stimulation. Secondly, she had to confront his sexuality. He was a little younger than Patrick, not much, but as far as Selina was concerned he was old. To have to think about him like that in conjunction with me was appalling for her. Naturally, she didn’t want to have to blame him so I became the scapegoat. I didn’t mind to begin with because I thought she’d grow out of it but she never did. She waged a continuous, exhausting war and I became thoroughly tired of it. Poor Hector was caught in the crossfire.’

‘I’d never seen it like that,’ said Posy slowly. ‘It was like she had an obsession about you and I could never see why.’

‘Well, now you can understand it. Supposing Patrick brought—what did you call her, Mary, was it?—Mary then. Suppose he brought her home. How would you feel?’

‘But Mum’s not dead,’ protested Posy. ‘Grandfather wasn’t committing adultery.’

‘That’s what I kept saying,’ sighed Maudie. ‘But it made no difference to Selina. The difficulty was that she felt I had supplanted her, as well as her mother. She was jealous. She didn’t feel her father could love all of us and she was afraid.’ She looked at Posy’s downcast face. ‘Sound familiar?’

‘I do feel like that, I suppose,’ she admitted at last. ‘I feel hurt. As if he’s risking his family for this woman which means he must love her more than he does us.’

Maudie was silent for a moment, feeling herself on delicate ground. She had already risked a great deal. She had no wish to lose Posy’s love or respect but nor did she wish to watch the child suffer.

‘Try to see it his way, just for a moment,’ she said gently. ‘Patrick adores you, you know he does, but you’re grown up now. You’ve very nearly left home, you’re making new friends and soon you’ll be gone. The boys have already flown the nest. Without wishing to condemn your mother I think you’d agree that she’s not a very comfortable person to live
with. This Mary probably makes him laugh, makes him feel good. He’s probably been able to help her in some way and he feels valued, important. Selina isn’t too bothered about making people feel special. The danger is to think that he’s weak in needing any kind of affection outside his home. Well, perhaps that is so, but we have to remember that he’s human. It’s fine being lofty and high-minded, condemning people who need affection, kindness, attention, especially if the high-minded one is surrounded by friends and his life is interesting and fun. It’s easy to judge someone who isn’t coping, who is lonely, ignored, taken for granted, and who is suddenly offered love. It’s possible, you know, to feel invisible. I suspect that your father has probably been feeling invisible for quite a while and it’s a pretty heady experience to be noticed, admired even. You may think that Patrick’s well past his sell-by date but I promise you he’s still an attractive man. And he’s a very kind one. I’m not condoning adultery, Posy, but let’s not be too harsh on him. Selina will sort it out, I have no doubt of that. As to his loving Mary more than he loves you, I think you’ll find that Patrick is capable of a great deal of love. It isn’t on ration, you know.’

‘I know,’ Posy mumbled, ‘but it’s like I don’t know him any more. He’s become a stranger.’

‘It’s always difficult seeing people we know really well in a different light,’ mused Maudie. ‘It’s like seeing a social acquaintance at her office or a workmate in the bosom of his family. We have all these complex sides and we respond to each one differently. This is what makes growing up so painful. We have to learn to adapt, to be generous. I’m afraid I haven’t been generous with Selina. I tried for a while but when she refused to make any effort to meet me halfway I gave up on it. Between us we made Hector’s life hell. It’s more difficult for you because you stand between Selina and Patrick. If you can walk a fine line between them it will be a very adult thing to do. You’re older than Selina was when I married her father so there’s a very good chance that, once you’ve recovered from the shock, you’ll be able to deal with it.’