Damage (12 page)

I moved against her, desperate. She held her hand to her stomach and said, ‘No. I’m bleeding.’ Then she knelt down before me, lips parted, mouth open, waiting. I worshipped her. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed, as though in some ritual act of genuflection.

Subsumed into her. Consummation. Of a kind. Then, eyes open, I stared at the slight mutilation of her features which the forcing of her mouth had caused. Drained by her, I thought of the hopelessness of pleasure. I was still trapped within my own body.

The room was lit by moonlight. As she left me, she said, ‘I said yes, today, to Martyn. He is going to tell the family tomorrow at lunch. He wants to make it a family celebration. It will be very hard for you. But please remember I am everything you need me to be. You live in me.’ She stroked her hand across her mouth and said, ‘Remember — everything, always.’ Then she slipped out the door.

I bowed my head in the darkened room. I felt as though a heavy weight had been placed across my shoulders. In the gloom the olive-embroidered spread and cushions filled my eyes. Conscious of their peace and beauty I lay down upon them. They were a grove of green in the moonlight. I felt the anger and hatred leave me. I could carry my burden. I could handle ‘everything, always’.

After some time, I do not know how long, I slipped back into bed beside Ingrid and slept deeply. In the morning I knew I did not want to see Anna and I needed time before I could face Martyn. A new life was beginning. A life in which Anna and Martyn would be formally a couple. I must learn to carry the weight of this reality.

The tightness between my shoulder blades told me that it was a cross I had decided to bear. Others hide their pain in their bloodstream, or intestines, or it reaches the surface of their skin, a daily stigmata. A childhood image from my Catholic nanny, one of her holy pictures of the cross being carried on the road to Golgotha, had all these years later become my body’s image for my soul’s pain.

‘I’m going to have a quick tea and toast in the kitchen, then have a walk. I’ll work up here until lunchtime. Do you mind?’

‘Of course not. Everyone will understand,’ said Ingrid.

‘It’s just that at Hartley, breakfasts can go on till lunch.’

Ceci was in the kitchen. She watched disapprovingly as I consumed the toast and tea standing by the table. Then, hearing Sally’s laughter from the dining-room, I opened the kitchen door and was gone.

I walked through the walled kitchen garden. Its ordered perfection reminded me that wild nature can be tamed and made to work for us. I walked into the meadow, where, in other days, ponies belonging to Ingrid, and then our own children, had grazed. Everything I saw, garden, meadows, the almost dry small stream, spoke of a life from which I was for ever parted.

Who was the young man who had walked through this very meadow when courting Ingrid? Where was the father who had photographed Sally and Martyn as they trotted with awkward pride on their ponies?

I managed to return to my room without having to say good morning to anyone. I worked on my papers and tried to compose myself before lunch.

‘To Edward,’ the toast was mine, ‘Happy Birthday and many happy returns from us all.’

‘To Edward.’ We all raised our glasses. Anna glanced nervously at Martyn. He rose to speak.

‘Grandad … everyone … I’ve got something to tell you all. Anna and I thought it would be nice, in honour of your birthday … to announce our engagement! Mum … Dad.’ He looked at us, eager, pleading, handsome. There was also a subtle look of triumph in his eyes.

‘Well, well …’ said Ingrid, ‘how marvellous. Congratulations, Martyn. Anna, I’m so happy for you both.’

‘Martyn, I can’t tell you what this means to me,’ said Edward. ‘On my birthday too. So touching, boy, so touching.’ He looked at Ingrid. ‘Martyn always was a touching soul. You’ve done well, my dear,’ he said to Anna. ‘Don’t mind me saying that, do you? He’s very special this grandson of mine. Mind you … he’s very lucky too. Fine girl … thought so the second I met you.’

Sally had jumped up and thrown her arms round her brother.

‘Congrats, you two. It’s great news.’

Jonathan broke in with ‘Well done, Martyn! Mind you I could see it coming a mile off. Couldn’t I, Sally? I always said Anna and Martyn were made for each other. Right from the start. That super-cool image you two have, it never fooled me for a minute. Head over heels in love. No doubt about it.’

Say something now. You’re the only one who hasn’t spoken. Say something now. My mind raced.

‘Martyn.’

‘Dad.’

‘What can a father say on such an occasion? It’s a strange and wonderful day. My best wishes to you both.’

It must have been all right because he smiled a ‘Thanks, Dad’ back at me.

‘You’ll get married from Hartley? You must …’

‘Father! They’ve only just announced their engagement. Anna’s parents may have their own ideas. It’s the bride’s parents …’

‘Oh yes, I know all that. But with Anna’s mother living in America, I just thought …’

‘We can have great fun planning all this,’ said Ingrid.

‘When are you thinking of actually getting married? Got a date fixed?’

‘Not really,’ said Anna.

‘As soon as possible,’ said Martyn. ‘We thought three months from now, if that’s OK.’

‘Three months! It’s not long.’ Ingrid was already planning the wedding.

‘Actually we are probably just going to have a quiet wedding somewhere. Anna hates big weddings.’

‘Really,’ said Ingrid, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

‘We felt a quiet wedding with family …’

‘Family! Good heavens. You must let your parents know,’ said Ingrid. ‘And we must meet them soon.’

‘I’ll ring them if I may.’ Anna looked at Edward.

‘Of course, of course.’

‘I was going to do the traditional thing. You know, ask permission and all that. But Anna felt it was unnecessary. So here we are, Grandpa — interrupting your birthday.’

‘Yes, indeed you are,’ said a mock-angry Edward. ‘And I haven’t even opened my presents. Let’s all finish pudding and have champagne and present’s in the drawing-room. Then the happy couple can use my study for their phone calls.’

As Anna passed me her eyes caught mine. I was pleased to see that she looked sad.

I drank my whisky, and watched the champagne add further to the gaiety as the party continued. Whisky is a strengthening drink. No man ever drank champagne in the midst of a defeat. After this defeat, there is no escape for you, I told myself. There was no anger or hatred either. Just an acceptance, a resignation to pain. I trusted Anna. She trusted me. If we wanted ‘everything, always’, this was the best way. Her way.

To observe the joy of others, while in pain oneself, is to witness what looks like insanity overtaking ordinary people. All my years as the calm outsider didn’t prepare me for the savage loneliness I felt that day. Clinging to the hope of Anna, I had to watch her move further and further away. Unable to call out to her, ‘Help me, help me, I can’t do this,’ I tried to appear jovial. I accepted Edward’s thanks for our gift — Ingrid had arranged an aerial photo of Hartley — and listened to the rise and fall of questions and answers about the future wedding of my son. Trapped, I knew I must show no fear. If I failed I would bring about the very thing that most terrified me — the total loss of Anna. The pain between my shoulder blades knotted its way deeper into me. The whisky seemed to sharpen my perception of all I saw. I longed for it to blur the edges.

Martyn and Anna went to Edward’s study to phone her parents. A few minutes later Martyn came back.

‘Mum, I think it would be nice if you would speak to Anna’s mother as well. You’re so good at these things. Wilbur asked to be remembered to you, Dad. Do you think we could have a word, Dad?’

‘Mm. Of course.’

Self-consciously, my son and I walked through the kitchen garden towards the meadow.

‘It’s strange to think of all those summers at Hartley. All before Anna,’ he said. ‘I find it hard to think of my life before her. Yet she’s only been with me for such a short time. I suppose everyone feels that when they fall in love?’

‘I expect they do.’

‘I know you and Mum had your doubts. Especially Mum. Oh, she never really said anything, but I could feel it. I understood it too.’

‘Did you?’

‘Yes. Anna’s a bit older. Not the kind of girl I brought home before.’ He laughed.

‘Well, you certainly brought home, as you put it, quite a number.’

‘Were you shocked?’

‘No. Not at all.’

‘You were always so proper. Oh, without being pious in any way’ (he hurried this) ‘but you know they were all … fantastic.’

‘They were all very attractive. And blonde, as your mother pointed out.’

‘Yes. I went through rather a thing with blondes. This is an odd conversation to have with one’s father, but I feel closer to you today than ever before. I felt like a prince during those years. It wasn’t promiscuity. It was a kind of mad wildness.’

‘Which stopped with Anna.’

‘Yes, Anna is my life, Dad. I suppose I’m in thrall to her. It’s an extraordinarily powerful thing. It’s been so hard for me to be careful. To play it right, not to lose her. She’s very complicated. She didn’t think I could handle it in the beginning. Now she’s confident.’

‘And from what do these complications arise?’

‘Well, she had a difficult relationship with her brother. He’s dead now. Then there was her parents’ divorce. And she had a long relationship with a chap that didn’t quite work either.’

‘What happened to her brother?’ An evil father asked the question. A good son replied, ‘Some ghastly tragedy. She doesn’t talk about it much.’

‘And who was the chap she had this long relationship with?’

‘His name was Peter. They nearly married, I think. Then she had a few other short-term things … you know …’

‘Well, I would expect that. She’s thirty-two, thirty-three, isn’t she?’

‘Mm. She’s very sensitive. She hates being tied down. I had to be very careful. I had to give her lots of freedom yet still hold on.’ He paused self-consciously. ‘We’ve never talked like this before, have we?’

‘No.’

‘I suppose getting engaged, particularly to someone like Anna, makes me feel … mature? Does that sound pompous?’ He smiled at me. His handsomeness, his height, and his happiness all combined to make him seem like a young god striding towards his golden future. I felt like a heavy, weary attendant, doomed to watch the sun shine ever more brightly on this chosen child.

Martyn touched my shoulder.

‘I wanted to say I’m sorry. What I said last night about chaos and passion was nonsense. You’ve been a marvellous father. A bit distant, but that’s because of your work, and all the demands on you. Anyway, you’ve never let me down. And if we’d been very close and you’d seemed terribly involved, I’d probably have hated it. I also want to thank you for the trust. I’m sure you advised when the grandparents set it up. It’s a great help. Anna and I are going to start house-hunting next week. Anna’s got money, you know. But I want to set us up. It’s important to me. So she’s going to sell her little house, and I’m going to sell the flat. Hopefully we can buy a reasonable house with extra help from the fund. Chelsea, we thought. God, I’m really happy. I wasn’t certain she would say yes. Isn’t life marvellous?’

‘Yes, isn’t it.’

‘Did you feel like this when you and Mum got engaged?’

‘Something like it.’ I felt ill. I had to change the subject. ‘What do you think of Sally and Jonathan?’

‘They’re very serious, that pair. I met someone from the company they work for. Said Sally’s done very well. I’ve always underestimated her, I suppose.’

‘Brothers often do.’

‘Yes.’

He was drenched in happiness. Sally, Jonathan, his mother and I were transformed by his joy into far finer figures than we had ever seemed before. ‘Mum’s so good. I know she had more worries than anyone. I thought she’d never unfreeze with Anna. But Mum’s wise and kind, and once she saw the inevitability of it all, she became really friendly. Mum’s wonderful, don’t you think?’

‘Indeed I do.’

He looked at his watch. ‘We’d better go back. Dad, thanks for everything. Let’s go, the future awaits.’

T
WENTY
-N
INE

‘W
ELL SHE’S GOT
him. I knew she would.’

‘Ingrid! Martyn’s the besotted one.’

‘I know that. I told you that ages ago. But she wanted him too. She wanted him. He suits her.’

‘So you’re happy then.’

‘Not exactly. But I am bowing to the inevitable.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose all mothers feel a bit possessive when their only son decides to marry. Of course, I’m certainly not gaining a daughter. Neither are you.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘Oh, you know … lose a son, gain a daughter. Anna has no intention of having a close relationship with me, or you for that matter. Now if Sally’s relationship ends where I think it will, Jonathan will be like another son.’

‘Mm, perhaps.’

‘Anna’s father seemed nice. The mother was a bit cool, I thought. Extraordinary that Martyn hasn’t met them. Still, it’s all been so quick.’

‘We’ve met Wilbur.’

‘True. The wedding is going to be in June, it’s only three months away. Anna’s father is coming up to London. He’s invited us to lunch next week. I suppose we’ll meet the mother just before the wedding. I must say, I’m fascinated to see what they’ll turn out to be like. Aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’

Everything is rushing away from me, I thought, as we drove to London. But having bowed my head in resignation and become a victim, I could only watch and suffer, love and wait patiently for my times with Anna. After all, I reflected ruefully, it’s more of a life than I ever had before.

T
HIRTY

A
NNA’S FATHER WAS
the kind of Englishman who impresses all who meet him as a gentleman. The Italians, the French, the Germans, have their aristocrats, but a true English gentleman adheres to a moral code which is subtly practised behind a screen of perfect good manners. Such a man was Charles Anthony Barton. He rose to greet us as we arrived for lunch at Claridges.