Gracie's Sin (42 page)

She dreamed of one day taking the boy to Canada and saying, here you are Josh, this is your son. Wouldn’t that give his frigid wife a jolt? She smiled at the thought. It might even make him realise what a terrible mistake he’d made in deserting her. He’d come back to her then, like a shot. This was a favourite dream in which she loved to indulge. Rose wasn’t quite clear over the details on how they would get back together in the end, but she knew that it would happen. Perhaps she would divorce Adam, or simply run away. And Josh would leave his wife, naturally. The dream wasn’t clear on specifics. But until that magical moment arrived, she would at least be safe here, and well taken care of.

Rose stood staring at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that. She marvelled at how the baby growing inside her made her body even more womanly and beautiful. Yet she worried about how long she could keep her secret before it became obvious, even to a new husband. As if somehow aware of the train of her thoughts, the door opened and there he was.

‘Rose?’ He seemed surprised by the sight of her nakedness, and quickly closed the door behind him. ‘What is it? Aren’t you well?’

She turned to him, her face alight with happiness. ‘I’m very well, thank you. Never better. Don’t you think I look well? Even beautiful perhaps?’

Adam couldn’t take his eyes off her. Parts of her body were milky white but her legs, arms and the slender beauty of her throat, were golden from the sun. Even as he drank in the glorious sight of her, she pushed her fingers into her hair and did a little pirouette before him, pert breasts thrusting provocatively forward as she turned. He was indeed fortunate to have such a beautiful wife. For the first time in weeks he felt a stirring in his loins. He wanted her. Dear Christ how he wanted her. He moved closer, touched one breast with a tentative hand. His fingers looked clumsy and rough against the pale velvet of her skin, the nipples dark, even now hardening beneath his touch. He placed his mouth where his hand had been, feeling the need in him swell and start to throb. With sudden urgency he pulled her towards him, covered her mouth with his. In an instant they were lying entwined on the rug and the heat of his passion was pulsing through him as if he had a fire in his belly. Rose was moaning softly, opening up to him and with a burst of joy and pride he knew he could enter her this time; he could pierce her sweetness and make her his own.

‘Adam! Where are you lad? Supper’s ready and waiting on the table.’ His mother’s voice, her step upon the stairs. Dear God, she was coming up. ‘Don’t let it go cold now. We’re all ready and waiting.’

‘Soddin’ hell!’ Adam rarely swore but as he felt that glorious passion shrivel and die, he slumped against his wife and felt closer to murdering his mother, than any good son should.

Irma observed the progress of her son’s marriage with close attention. Something wasn’t as it should be. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly where the problem lay but there was one, of that she was certain. She could sense an awkwardness between the young couple, and little sign of the affectionate lovey-doveyness one would expect from newly weds. No doubt the poor lad had realised, too late, what a terrible mistake he’d made. Well, he couldn’t say that he hadn’t been warned. Nor could he lay the blame on her, Irma told herself most firmly, if he’d now seen the error of his ways. She’d dropped her objections to the wedding, hadn’t she? once she’d realised he was determined. She’d attended the ceremony, trimmed her best hat for the event, given up the front bedroom and moved into the back after more than forty years. You would think they’d appreciate such thoughtfulness, but not even a thank you had crossed madam’s lips.

Apart from being a flighty piece, shoving her nose in where it wasn’t wanted, and soon getting her feet under t’table in more ways than one, she was a lazy tyke. Never lifted a finger to help in the kitchen. The girl didn’t fit in, which was exactly what she’d predicted. Irma was quite convinced that if she hadn’t been prepared to carry on doing all the cooking and cleaning herself in the little cottage, the pair of them would’ve starved. Not that she would see her only son suffer. Dear me no! After a long day working in the fields he deserved a few home comforts, and who better to provide them than herself, his dear old mam. Nobody, not even that little madam, could accuse her of being a burden. She’d more than earn her keep.

It hadn’t escaped Irma’s notice that she’d heard very little in the way of creaking bed springs which was surely unusual, them being newly weds. And there’d been one occasion when Irma had been tidying up in what was now their bedroom, when she’d noticed that only one half of the bed looked as if it had been slept in. The bottom sheet at the other half had been as smooth and neat as a new pin. Now that struck Irma as odd. She decided to investigate.

She chose one morning while Rose was in the bathroom. Adam had already gone out to do the morning milking and since she could hear the tap running, Irma felt safe to push open the bedroom door and peep inside. There, on the bedside rug, a testament to her worst fears, lay a pillow and eiderdown. And as if that didn’t speak volumes, tossed casually across both were her son’s discarded pyjamas.

Irma was appalled. ‘Heaven help us, he’s sleeping on the floor.’

Hurrying to listen at the bathroom door, she heard the unmistakable sounds of vomiting. So that was how the land lay? She should have guessed. The little madam had made a fool of her boy, like many another in this dratted war. Oh, but she’d be here to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart. He could depend upon his mam at least. As always.

She waited, arms folded, for Rose to come out of the bathroom. The look on the girl’s face was more than enough evidence of her guilt.

‘So that’s the way of it, eh?’ Irma announced, unable to disguise the triumph in her voice. ‘You managed to wed him and wheedle your way in here. But now he knows the truth, he won’t sleep with you, is that it?’

Rose gritted her teeth, determined not to be lured into a confrontation; thankful at least that Adam wasn’t present to hear what his mother had to say. If she could just keep her wits about her, she might throw the woman off the scent. Lifting her chin, Rose strode straight past Irma without a word.

‘Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve got a fancy man. You were seen in the bar parlour at the Eagle’s Head regular, with one of them yanks. I can put two and two together with the best of ‘em.’

Rose whirled about, her hand on the door knob shaking with rage as she met her mother-in-law’s interrogative glare. ‘He was Canadian actually, and it was all perfectly innocent. Just another serviceman missing his wife.’

‘Ah, so that was the problem, was it? He was already married. Well, whatever he was, it’s quite obvious the pair of you weren’t simply talking about the weather. Nor was he thinking much of his wife when you got up to heaven knows what mischief.’

Rose wanted to slap the old woman’s face, knock her down the stairs for even insinuating Josh’s love was somehow unclean and sordid. For Adam’s sake, she took a deep steadying breath and resorted to the kind of ice cold countenance she’d developed over the years when dealing with one of Eddie’s tantrums, drawing a rock hard shell of protection about herself, as she had learned to do. ‘Think what you like. An eiderdown tossed on the floor proves nothing.’

‘I heard you throwing up in the bathroom.’

‘A stomach upset.’

‘Oh, aye, and I’m the Queen of Sheba.’

‘You never wanted me here in the first place and you’ve done your best to make sure that I’m not welcome. What you don’t seem to appreciate is that there’s nothing you can do about it. Adam and I are married now. You certainly can’t hurt me. I’m impervious to hurt. Didn’t you know that?’

‘I know you’re a hard little bitch.’

Rose put back her head and laughed. It was a harsh, brittle sound which chilled Irma to the bone. She moved threateningly towards her mother-in-law who backed away on to the landing. ‘True, very true. But then I’ve been trained in a hard school.’ Whereupon, she slammed shut the door in the woman’s face.

Irma was mortified to think that she’d actually persuaded her son to look for a wife. Now she saw those efforts as misguided, as interfering in the laws of nature. However, she did not view an attempt to resolve his marital difficulties in the same light. Irma saw it as her motherly duty not to stand idly by and see that little slut destroy her boy. She cooked Adam his favourite liver and onions for dinner, which they usually shared. Irma enjoyed this time alone with him while Rose was out in the woods. Today it would be the ideal opportunity to get everything out in the open. Not that she’d say anything about her suspicions. Better to let him find out about the Canadian himself, then he couldn’t accuse her of poking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

‘You have to tread warily with our Adam,’ she murmured to herself. Best she get him to do the talking. To start with, anyroad. After that she’d see how much of the truth she could drip-feed into his ear.

She set his plate before him, settled herself in the chair opposite, an expression of intense sympathy on her face then launched into her plea. ‘I can see you’re not happy, lad. Whatever it is that’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m your mam remember. You can tell me anything.’

Adam set down his fork of food untouched, pushed aside the copy of
The Farmer’s Weekly
which he’d been about to quietly read and gazed bleakly at her. The last thing he wanted was to discuss his marital problems with his mother but nor did he wish to appear ungrateful that she cared. Besides which, he was at his wits’ end to know how to put things right. Rose and he were barely speaking these days, and he was still sleeping on the bedroom floor. Could he use this show of concern to persuade her to move out and stay with her friend Madge, if only for a little while. They seemed to be getting along all right working together, and she never stopped talking about those kids. He cleared his throat, determined to give it a try.

‘I was wondering if perhaps we should have a bit more time to ourselves like, to be on us own more.’

‘Time to yourselves? On your own more? Goodness, don’t I try to make sure of that. I do all the housework round here. Madam doesn’t need to do a hand’s turn around the place. I’m sure I haven’t asked her to.’

‘I’m not talking about housework, Mam. I’m talking about us needing to be on our own more.’

‘Well, of course you need to be by yourselves at times. That’s what I’m saying. She comes home from a long day’s work in the woods. You come back from the fields and the pair of you are able to sit in here, all cosy together while I’m in the kitchen making your tea.’ She very nearly said “slaving away”, but that might have upset him and made herself seem too much the martyr, which wouldn’t do at all. ‘What more can I do? Haven’t I made enough sacrifices for the pair of you, giving up the front bedroom, not making any objections to your marrying her. I couldn’t help but notice that you haven’t been sharing a bed.’ Irma’s face took on an expression of pure tragedy. ‘You poor boy. I don’t blame you for sleeping on the floor. Do you want me to fetch the Put-U-Up from the loft?’

‘
No
!’ Adam was squirming with embarrassment, hating the direction this conversation was going. ‘It’s not what you think. I’d just put me back out, that’s all, and sleeping on a hard floor helps. It’s nearly better now.’ Deciding this was the best opportunity he was going to get, he ploughed on relentlessly. ‘Look Mam, we’re very grateful for what you do for us, it’s just that - well - it would be easier if there were just the two of us in the house.’

Irma looked at him as if he’d run mad. ‘Just the two of you? Nay lad, wouldn’t we all like a place of our own but there’s a war on. We’re not the only family having to squash up a bit and make the best of things.’ And then, quite suddenly, her eyes were awash with unshed tears. ‘You’re surely not expecting me to move out, to leave my own home after all these years, just because you’ve decided to marry? Where would you have me go? I don’t think there is a workhouse any more, is there?’

Before he could stop himself, Adam was telling her not to talk daft, assuring his mother that of course no such thought had entered his head. He wasn’t asking her to leave, that’s not what he meant at all. Perhaps it was having the other two girls here as well, which made the cottage feel overcrowded.

Irma’s face cleared, and she dabbed at her eyes with her hanky. ‘Oh well, that’s soon sorted. I only let them two come in the first place for a bit of company. Now you’re wed, things have changed. We’ll ask them to move out. There, is that better? Lou and Gracie are reasonable girls. They’ll understand perfectly that a honeymoon couple need a bit more privacy. Lou’s mentioned the possibility of moving to the Eagle’s Head already, matter of fact, so there’ll be no trouble on that score. I could have their room, then you can put the bairn in the box room. Make a lovely nursery, that will.’

Adam stared at his mother, enraged suddenly by her interfering. ‘Bairn? Nursery? Aren’t you jumping the gun a bit, Mam?’

‘Not from what I’ve noticed. They didn’t bring me in with the milk float.’ Irma, annoyed by her son’s intransigence in refusing to marry the girl she’d selected for him, and forgetting all about her resolve to remain cool and calm, began to spit out her venom. ‘She’s no better than she should be. A harlot, no less. The lass only married you because she’s pregnant, as anyone with half an eye can see.’

Adam gaped at his mother, eyes and mouth wide with disbelief and dawning horror. ‘Pregnant? You’re saying Rose is pregnant? But she can’t be. How dare you suggest such a thing?’