Dance While You Can (28 page)

There was a long silence. I turned to Edward and saw he was staring into his drink. Then David got up and said he was going to bed. Christine followed.

I went to pour Edward some more brandy. When I handed it to him he ignored me, so I put it on the table beside him.

‘Come and sit down, Elizabeth,’ he said eventually.

He took my hands between his and as he looked up I saw how sad his face was. That night had been the first time in months he had relaxed with me, but now, despite the love that shone in his eyes, I sensed him pushing me away. ‘Darling, I should have told you this a long time ago, but you always swore that Charlotte was enough and you never wanted any more children. You see, my first wife gave birth to a stillborn child. It was a girl, and I sometimes wonder if that’s why I love Charlotte so much.’ He smiled. ‘But who could help loving Charlotte? Anyway, the birth was difficult and my wife almost died. Afterwards she was advised not to try again, so I had a vasectomy to save her from any more pain.’

Until that moment I don’t think I’d realised the insanity of what I had tried to do. I stared at him, struck dumb by the sheer horror of it.

It was some time before he spoke again. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything, darling, but it might help if you did.’

I buried my face in my hands. My self-loathing was so complete I couldn’t speak.

‘Is it Charlotte’s father?’

I nodded.

‘You were with him when you went away?’

I looked up into his face. I thought he had aged since I’d been ill, but now he looked almost haggard. ‘Edward,’ I sobbed, ‘I don’t know what made me say it. I don’t . . .’

‘Hush, hush. People often say or do things they don’t mean when they are hurting badly. I know how much you love him, Elizabeth, I’ve always known.’

Hearing him say that, I wanted to get up and run and never stop. I wished he would hit me or shout at me, his kindness and understanding were tearing me apart.

‘Does he know about the baby?’

‘No.’

‘Will you tell him?’

I shook my head. ‘I can’t. There’s nothing he can . . . I’m sorry, Edward. Please forgive me. No, don’t forgive me. I’ll go. I’ll go as far away from your life as I can. You can divorce me, I won’t make any claim on you. I’m sorry, Edward, I’m . . .’

‘Hush now, you’re not going anywhere. I know you don’t love me in the way you love him, Elizabeth, but I love you, and I love Charlotte too. I don’t want to lose you.’

‘But what about the baby?’ I looked at him, suddenly stricken with panic. ‘I. couldn’t have an abortion.’

He put his hand over my mouth. ‘Of course not. The baby will be mine – if you allow it to be. No one need know, only the family.’

‘No, Edward, I can’t let you do it.’

‘I want to do it, Elizabeth. But I have one condition, and I suppose even that’s not a condition, I would want you to stay anyway. But if you can, I want you to promise me you will never see him again.’

For an instant I thought I heard Alexander’s voice telling me to deny him, warning me not to listen. But I had to ignore it. Alexander was again a part of my past, and this man here, my husband, who loved me more than any woman ever deserved to be loved, was waiting for my answer. I made him the promise.

In the early hours of the morning I woke to find the bed empty beside me. When I went to find Edward I saw lights in the Egyptian Room and tried the door, but it was locked. I listened, and after a while I could hear him sobbing.

– 21 –

Edward didn’t come back to bed at all that night. The following morning he joined Christine on an early flight to Cairo, leaving me a note to say he would ring when he got there. After what had happened it was a relief not to have to face them, and when David left a message with Jeffrey to say he’d gone up to London for a few days, I guessed he too was anxious to avoid seeing me.

When Charlotte arrived home from school, she came up to my room and we sat on the window-seat for a long time, drawing patterns on the steamy windows. As she chattered, I tried so many times to tell her about the baby, but every time I opened my mouth the words wouldn’t come.

Life was so cruel, and yet in other ways so kind. While it allowed me to have Alexander’s children, it would not allow me to be with him. I put my arms round Charlotte and hugged her tight. At least I would always have a part of him, but what did Alexander have? I couldn’t bear to think of how unhappy he might be. I never once doubted his love, nor how much he must want to be with Charlotte and me.

But what about Edward? Last night had served to remind me just how much he loved me. Often I sensed the struggle he had to keep his feelings under control and always knew when he was losing the battle because he would go away. His love was so overpowering, at times I could almost see the way it threatened to engulf him. It was as if I wasn’t real but an object to be treasured, revered almost. But it was the complexity of his sophistication and almost childlike adoration that made me want to protect him.

When he came back from Cairo three days later, I could see how relieved he was that I was still there, that I hadn’t run away, and my heart twisted with pity and guilt. He talked excitedly about the deal he had in hand, but wouldn’t go into detail because he wanted it to be a surprise. He asked about Charlotte, wanting to know everything we’d done while he was away. Then he laid his hand on my stomach and told me he loved me. I turned away before I could stop myself, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were almost glazed as he seemed to drift into a world of his own. It was at moments like that, when he appeared so remote, that I wondered how well I really knew him.

Christine stayed in Cairo much longer than was originally planned. She rang Edward daily, but he took the calls in his study and she never asked to speak to me. After the calls he always seemed distracted, irritable almost, but when I asked him why he just said that the man they were dealing with in Cairo had an absurd passion for riddles. After one such phone call he got his secretary to book him on a flight to Istanbul and was gone for five days, during which he didn’t ring home once.

Christine returned four weeks later. Edward and I were at an art dealer’s party in London. He hadn’t told me Christine was flying back that night, so I was surprised when she walked in around eleven. She greeted the host and his wife, throwing her arms around them in the ostentatious manner they all affected. Everyone wanted to know how she had got on in Cairo. She exchanged a quick glance with Edward – then declared loudly that they were all a very poor bunch, bombarding her with questions the minute she walked through the door and not even offering her a drink. Then she went off into a corner with Edward, and they talked quietly but heatedly for several minutes, before separating and mingling with the other guests again.

I waited, watching her from the corner of my eye as she worked her way round the room. Eventually she was standing behind me, talking to Edward’s secretary. I’d been dreading seeing her, and now she was so pointedly ignoring me I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly I felt a thump in my back.

‘Oh Elizabeth, I’m so sorry.’ Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

I smiled. ‘No harm done. How are you?’

‘Very well.’ She looked me up and down. ‘No need to ask how you are.’

I tried again. ‘You’ve been gone ages, I missed you.’

‘Did you, sister-in-law darling? And what about when you were off wherever it was with your lover? Did you miss me then? Or were you too busy to think about anyone else? You know, like the people who were left looking after your daughter?’

I stared at her.

‘Oh, so you didn’t miss me then. How about Edward? Did you miss him while you were away screwing another man? You know, the man whose child you tried to push on to my brother? She was shouting now, and I looked round wildly to see if anyone had heard her.

‘What’s the matter, Elizabeth, afraid everyone will find out what a sly, conniving little bitch you are?’

‘Christine, please . . .’

‘“Christine please!” I could kill you for what you’ve done to Edward. He’s never hurt anyone in his whole life – but you’ve hurt him all right, haven’t you, you slut! You’re not fit to bear his name, you never were. Why don’t you do us all a favour and take your bastards back to the gutter where you belong!’

I felt myself being dragged backwards and there was a loud crack as Edward’s hand flew across Christine’s face. ‘Go home, now!’ he hissed, then without uttering another word he took my arm and marched me out of the room.

When we arrived home Edward told me to go upstairs. He caught Christine’s arm as she made to follow me, and pulled her into his study. Once the door had closed I went back to the landing. Even though their voices were raised it was difficult to make out what they were saying, but I did hear Christine telling Edward to pull himself together and ‘see the little slut for what she really is.’

The door opened then, and as Edward came out I drew back into the shadows.

‘You’re doing this because of her!’ Christine yelled. ‘She’s not worth it!’

Edward turned back. His voice was too low for me to hear, but when Christine answered I knew they were no longer talking about me.

‘You’ve got to be insane even to think of it! How the hell are they going to get in? Have you thought about that?’

‘Yes, I’ve thought about it. All we have to do is talk to the . . .’ I couldn’t make out what Edward said after that because the door closed again.

It was the early hours of the morning when I finally heard Christine come upstairs. When Edward didn’t follow I tiptoed down to his study. He wasn’t there, but I was shocked when I saw the chaos on his desk; catalogues and leaflets were strewn all over it, and on top of the pile was a blown-up colour photograph of the Tutankhamun death mask. I closed the door quickly, feeling, for no earthly reason, that I had intruded upon something I hadn’t been meant to see.

At the bottom of the west stairs I hesitated and looked up at the silent landing. There was only one light at the end of the gallery, casting long shadows across the walls. A sixth sense warned me not to go to the Egyptian Room. I remembered the way Christine had looked at Edward when she’d arrived at the party, and the oddness of Edward’s manner after the phone calls from Cairo. I thought of the curious exchange I had heard only a few hours ago in Edward’s study. I stood there in the half-darkness, and as my skin prickled with sentience I was suddenly engulfed by a premonition that something very sinister was going on at Westmoor.

Jonathan was born the following February, only three days after Alexander’s birthday. It was a difficult birth and Edward was there throughout. Afterwards I couldn’t bring myself to hold the baby, and the more Edward fussed and cuddled him, the worse I became. I was in hospital for four days, then Edward, David and Charlotte came to take us home. Christine wasn’t there, nor had she come to visit.

Since the night of the party there had been an uneasy truce between Christine and me, though I knew the only reason she made any effort at all was to keep Edward happy. She was unkind to Charlotte, which caused bitter scenes between her and David. Edward sent her off more and more frequently to far-flung places in search of paintings or antique furniture; she always came back with something, and always, no matter where she was, managed to make a stop in Cairo.

One night David teased her that she was hiding a lover there. Her denial was so vehement that the two brothers raised their eyebrows, and Edward wondered if David hadn’t hit on something.

Charlotte was all ears. ‘Oh do tell us about him, Christine,’ she begged. ‘What’s he like? Do you kiss him?’

‘For God’s sake, Charlotte, I’ve already told you . . .’

‘What’s his name?’ Charlotte persisted.

Christine glared at me. I took hold of Charlotte’s hand and pulled her on to my lap. ‘That’s enough, darling,’ I said.

‘“That’s enough, darling”,’ Christine mimicked. ‘God, it makes me sick the way everyone round here hangs on that kid’s every word. I suppose it’s going to be the same with Jonathan. No darling, yes darling, that’s enough darling . . .’

‘And that
is
enough.’ Edward got to his feet. ‘We’ve got guests arriving in less than two hours and there are some things I want to discuss with you before you go to New York tomorrow, Christine. Now Charlotte, how about a nice big kiss before you go up to bed?’

An hour later Edward came upstairs to our room. I was sitting on the bed, holding the baby. I turned sharply as I heard the door close, and my arms tightened around Jonathan. He was three months old now and I couldn’t forgive myself for the way I had rejected him when he was born. He started to bounce around as Edward came to sit beside us, and to stop him holding out his arms for Edward, I stood up.

‘It’s all right, darling, I’m not going to take him away from you.’

I huzzled my face into Jonathan’s and didn’t answer.

Gently Edward took hold of my elbows and sat me back on the bed. ‘You’ve got to stop blaming yourself. A lot of mothers react the way you did after a difficult birth. As long as you love him . . .’

‘It’s not that,’ I interrupted.

‘Then what is it?’

‘It’s Christine. She hates me being here. I can’t stand all this pretence.’

Immediately, Jonathan started to cry, and Edward took him from me. I made to snatch him back, but stopped myself just in time. Then, afraid of what I was feeling, I jerked myself from the bed and went to close the curtains, while Edward put Jonathan in his cradle. Jonathan had slept in our room since we’d come home from hospital. He’ll have to go to the nursery soon, I thought, and was ashamed at how pleased I was at creating just that little distance between him and Edward.

Edward put his arms around me and I leaned my head against his shoulder. ‘I’ve had an idea that I think just might sort everything out once and for all,’ he said. ‘Meanwhile, just try and be patient with Christine, darling. Despite everything, I know she loves you very much.’

I wrenched myself away and went to stand over Jonathan. I could feel Edward beside me, smiling down into the cradle, and I was suddenly possessed by the conviction that I had to get Alexander’s son away from him.