Apple of My Eye (40 page)

‘You should still keep it. It’s valuable. Anyway, your children might like playing with it someday.’

‘Not if they’re anything like me. They’ll be too busy building dens and climbing trees. I’ll take it to the thrift shop this morning. Charlotte’s mother helps out there
and she says there’s a girl in Holt Street who’d love to have it.’

‘Well, it’s a very generous thing to do.’

She nodded, knowing that generosity had nothing to do with it. She had always hated the doll’s house. It reminded her of him, and now he was gone she wanted it gone too.

‘It’s heavy,’ her mother pointed out. ‘Can you carry it on your own?’

‘Ronnie’s going to come and help.’

Her mother smiled. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’

‘You do like him, don’t you, Mum?’

‘Yes. He’s funny, just like your father was. But much better looking. The best-looking boy in town, I’d say, so it’s only right he’d like the best-looking girl.’

She felt self-conscious. ‘Mum!’

‘It’s true. You’re a beautiful girl, Susie. And you’re strong. Unlike me you’ll never be frightened of being alone.’

‘You’re not alone. You’ve still got me and you always will have. I’ll look after you, Mum. You don’t ever have to be frightened as long as I’m alive.’

Her mother stroked her hair. ‘You make me proud, Susie. Proud of the person you’ve grown into.’ The smile returned. ‘And I know your father would be proud of you too.’

They hugged each other. The conch shell her father had bought her lay on the window sill. Unlike the doll’s house it wasn’t worth a penny. But it held memories of
its own and she wouldn’t have parted with it for all the money in the world.

That afternoon she sat in Cobhams Milk Bar with Ronnie and Charlotte.

Others were there too. Lizzie Flynn. Arthur Hammond, her old friend from primary school, who was home from his Yorkshire boarding school for a long weekend. And Colin Peters, the budding mechanic who had given Charlotte her first love bite.

It was a lively gathering. As they drank coffee or milk shakes, Ronnie entertained them with descriptions of some of his neighbours in Hepton. A couple called the Browns sounded particularly grim. ‘She was the biggest snob you’ve ever met and he was the biggest lecher and convinced he was irresistible. If Marilyn Monroe moved into our street he’d think she’d done it just to be close to him.’

Everyone laughed. ‘Not much chance of that happening,’ Lizzie pointed out.

‘But that doesn’t stop him trying. He keeps writing to her in Hollywood, sending her maps of East London and photographs of himself in his vest and underpants signed, “Come and get me, baby”.’

More laughter. Susan watched Colin wipe coffee from his lip. He was heavy set with a nondescript face and little to say that did not involve motorcycles. But he also had a nice smile, a friendly manner and clearly adored Charlotte, and that was enough to make her like him immensely.

Ronnie continued to tell anecdotes, provoking more mirth in his audience. As he spoke he caught her eye and gave her a quick wink. She winked back.

‘How’s school?’ she asked Arthur.

‘As wonderful as ever.’ Arthur rolled his eyes. He was small, blond and delicate and looked like a flimsier version of Ronnie. ‘Henry’s head of house now but says he’ll stand down if we don’t win the inter-house rugby championship.’

‘That’s tempting fate,’ observed Lizzie.

‘I know. The whole team are planning to go lame on the big day just to make sure.’

Yet more laughter. ‘Have you met Arthur’s brother Henry?’ Charlotte asked Ronnie.

‘Ronnie hasn’t had that pleasure,’ Susan told her.

‘And it is a pleasure,’ added Arthur. ‘Believe me.’

‘He’s a complete idiot,’ elaborated Lizzie. ‘You can tell that from the fact he’s friends with Edward Wetherby. No one but a moron would want to be friends with him.’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Do you remember that party we went to at their house when we were about six and he threw your glasses in the river?’

Charlotte giggled. ‘And then Susie punched him in the face and made him cry.’

Colin put his arm around her. ‘If he ever does anything like that again I’ll be the one that makes him cry.’ He gave Susan a grin. ‘But thanks for stepping in for me.’

Arthur went to put an Eddie Cochrane record on the
jukebox. Susan noticed Uncle George standing by the door, looking self-conscious in such a predominantly teenage environment and holding a beaming, balloon-clutching Jennifer by the hand.

‘She saw you through the window,’ he explained, ‘and wanted to come and say hello.’

‘Can I stay with Susie?’ Jennifer asked her father.

‘If she doesn’t mind.’

Susan patted a space between Ronnie and herself. Uncle George kissed Jennifer on the cheek. ‘Be a good girl for Susie, darling.’

Jennifer nodded. She was wearing a blue dress that matched her balloon and looked very pretty. ‘Have you been to a party?’ asked Charlotte.

Jennifer nodded. ‘We played games and sang lots of songs.’

‘But you’re not going to sing now,’ Susan told her.

Ronnie made his hand into a gun and pointed it at the balloon. ‘Or old Bluey gets it.’ Jennifer giggled. Lizzie offered her some milk shake. ‘Don’t give her too much,’ said Susan anxiously.

‘Or what? Going to throw me in a cow pat like you did Alice Wetherby?’ Lizzie grinned at Ronnie. ‘Did you know your girlfriend was a thug?’

‘Yes. But she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my soulmate.’

Susan, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and extreme pleasure, sipped her coffee and tried to act nonchalant.

‘You’ve gone red,’ Jennifer told her.

‘Just drink your shake and be quiet.’

‘What’s a soulmate?’

‘A soulmate,’ answered Ronnie, ‘is the most special person in your life. So special that you can sit with them for hours and they’ll never ever want to sing.’

Everyone laughed. Lizzie and Charlotte asked Jennifer what songs she was learning and discovered they knew them too. They began to sing, deliberately mixing up the words while Jennifer earnestly corrected them. Susan felt Ronnie’s hand stroke the back of her neck and realized that for the first time in years she was completely and utterly happy.

They smiled at each other while the others continued to make a mess of songs and suffered Jennifer’s correction.

Half an hour later she walked through Market Court with Ronnie, each holding one of Jennifer’s hands and swinging her through the air to shrieks of delight. It was growing dark and housewives rushed by them, all eager to finish their shopping and return home, while a group of boys collected money for a Guy Fawkes celebration that was taking place the following evening.

Someone called her name. Turning, she saw Paul Benson coming towards her. Taken by surprise, she stood waiting.

‘How are you, Susie?’ he asked.

‘All the worse for seeing you, I expect,’ said Ronnie.

‘I wasn’t asking you,’ Paul told him.

‘But I’m telling you anyway. Get lost. She has nothing to say to you.’

‘I’ve got something to say to her.’

‘What? More names to call? Shouldn’t you wait until there’s a bigger audience?’

Paul shuffled from foot to foot, looking deeply uncomfortable. ‘So what do you want to say?’ Susan asked him.

‘That I’m sorry about your stepfather. I really am.’

She nodded. Jennifer tugged impatiently at her hand. ‘Susie, I’m getting cold.’

‘Isn’t there something else you should be sorry for?’ Ronnie asked Paul.

Paul continued to shuffle.

‘Well?’

‘Leave it, Ronnie,’ Susan told him.

‘I’m sorry for how I treated you,’ said Paul suddenly. ‘It was wrong and it was cruel.’ He swallowed. ‘And for what it’s worth I’m ashamed.’

She stared at him, waiting for the sense of triumph. Remembering how she would once have given anything to have him apologize and then throw the words back in his face. But that had been before meeting Ronnie.

And now the words were spoken she felt nothing except an unexpected sense of pity.

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s ancient history.’ A pause. ‘How are things with your father?’

Relief swept over his face. ‘Better.’ He smiled. ‘Thanks.’

‘I’m glad,’ she told him.

Jennifer was still pulling at her hand. This time she allowed herself to be led.

*

After seeing Jennifer home she walked back across Queen Anne Square with Ronnie.

‘Can’t you stay out a bit longer?’ he asked.

‘Not tonight. I need to be with Mum. You understand, don’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Did you really mean what you said about me in Cobhams?’

He nodded. ‘Every word.’

‘More fool you, then.’

He smiled, his eyes twinkling in the dusk light. ‘Sad, isn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘Having a tart for a soulmate.’

‘Not as sad as having one who’s a bastard.’ She stroked his cheek. ‘And a common one at that.’

They kissed each other. ‘I knew it the moment I saw you,’ he said. ‘That we belonged to each other. That we were meant to be together.’

‘I didn’t. Not then. I wish I had.’

‘It doesn’t matter. You know it now.’

She caressed his lips with her tongue. An elderly couple walked past, muttering about the youth of today. ‘Imagine if they knew,’ she said.

‘No one will ever know.’

‘I don’t feel ashamed. I keep expecting to but it never happens.’

‘It never will. We did what had to be done. That’s all you need to feel.’

Again they kissed. Slow and tender. ‘I have to go,’ she whispered. ‘Mum’s waiting.’

His arms tightened around her. ‘But I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Of course. We could go to the firework party. The others are going.’

He shook his head.

‘Didn’t you like them?’

‘Yes. But I want tomorrow night to be special. I want it to be just about us.’

She smiled. ‘Then it will be. But now I must go.’

His hold remained firm. ‘In a minute.’

They continued to kiss, there in the dwindling light, while the elderly couple shook their heads, clucked their tongues and predicted the imminent decline of Western civilization.

The following evening Charles ate dinner with Anna, Ronnie and Susan.

A Guy Fawkes celebration was taking place across the river. Fireworks filled the sky with noise and light to an accompaniment of cheers from the crowd gathered beneath.

He sat at one end of the table, Anna at the other, while Ronnie and Susan faced each other in the middle, all of them eating roast beef washed down with red wine.

‘How is your mother coping?’ he asked Susan.

‘Quite well, thank you, Mr Pembroke.’

‘And you? How are you managing?’

‘I’m fine.’ She sipped her wine and gave him a smile that combined warmth with sadness. A perfect gesture in a flawless performance. He longed to tell her that she didn’t need to act for him. That whatever the rights and wrongs of her behaviour he was on her side and would never betray her.

Or Ronnie.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said, smiling back with just the right mixture of kindness and concern. Playing the benevolent, unsuspecting patriarch. Matching her performance with one of his own.

Anna poured herself another glass of wine. Her third of the evening. ‘I’m glad too,’ she told Susan. Her tone was friendly but her features were drawn. She looked tired and anxious. Could Susan see it? he wondered. Could Ronnie?

Or were they so in love that they could see only each other?

Ronnie swallowed a mouthful of beef and complimented his mother on her cooking. Acting the part of a loving, dutiful son. Except that it wasn’t acting. Ronnie loved his mother. That was real, but what else about him was? With Ronnie he wondered whether anyone could tell where illusion ended and reality began.

Fireworks filled the sky with red and gold. As Susan watched them through the window, Anna studied her with eyes that were deep pools of hostility. Dropping her own mask for just a second. Exposing her real emotions to the air.

The meal drew to its end. Ronnie cleared his throat.
‘Do you mind if Susie and I go to my room? There are some drawings I want to show her.’

Anna fixed the smile back on her face. ‘Of course not.’

‘Thank you for the meal, Mrs Pembroke,’ said Susan.

‘My pleasure.’

They left the room. Anna poured herself yet more wine. When first married she would never drink more than one glass. But things had been very different then.

She saw him watching her. ‘Well?’

‘You think it, too, don’t you?’

‘Think what?’

‘That her stepfather’s accident was no accident at all.’

Her eyes widened. She looked frightened. ‘You don’t have to be afraid,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m on their side. I’d never say anything to hurt them. On my life I wouldn’t.’

Then the fear was gone. ‘You’ve had too much to drink,’ she said coldly. ‘Of course it was an accident. Only a fool would think otherwise, and I didn’t marry a fool.’

He opened his mouth to protest. She shook her head. Rising to her feet, she began to clear the table, her mask securely back in place.

Susan stood in Ronnie’s bedroom, watching him lock the door. ‘Why are you doing that?’ she asked.

‘Because I don’t want us to be disturbed.’ Taking her hand, he led her towards the window.

The fireworks continued to illuminate the sky. ‘They’re beautiful,’ she said.

‘Not as beautiful as you.’

They kissed. ‘Your breath smells of wine,’ she told him.

‘So does yours. Did you enjoy your meal?’

‘Yes, though your mother seemed a bit subdued.’

‘She’s OK.’

‘Do you think she suspects?’

‘How could she? I’m her perfect son and perfect sons never do anything bad.’

‘Was it really bad?’

He shook his head. ‘Just necessary. He was going to hurt Jennifer the same way he’d hurt you. He had to be stopped. That’s all there is to it. I’d never let anyone hurt you, Susie. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Just as I’d never let anyone hurt you.’

Again they kissed. ‘Soulmate,’ she whispered.

‘That’s why you trusted me, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’