Liverpool Love Song (9 page)

‘She’ll get over it.’

‘Even worse, she assumed we’d be getting married and so did Rex; they were absolutely racked to hear it wasn’t even being planned.’

‘You did the right thing by pretending you didn’t want to.’

Chloe couldn’t keep the note of urgency out of her voice. ‘But I do, Adam. I do. I wish I could change your mind. I don’t understand why you’re so against it.’

He was staring out at the road ahead. ‘I keep trying to explain that marriage just isn’t my sort of thing.’

‘It’s not as though there’s a reason why we can’t.’

His sigh was impatient. ‘Everybody will soon be used to the idea and we’ll be very happy, you’ll see.’

‘I’d be happier now if we could be married. So would Mum. It would solve everything. She’d accept you then.’

Adam was irritable. ‘I wish you’d give over about getting married, Chloe,’ he barked. ‘It won’t make any difference in the long run; it’s just a ceremony and a certificate.’

Chloe leaned back in her seat and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She knew he hated to see her cry. When they’d first met, she’d thought Adam wonderful, their relationship had seemed perfect. He’d been passionate about her and done his best to give her a good time. Having his own very nice house and earning his living the way he did, she’d thought him a man of the world. But really, he wasn’t as sophisticated as she’d thought.

He’d been genuinely shocked when she’d told him she was pregnant. He’d never considered that he might father a child unintentionally.

‘I’ll do the right thing by you,’ he’d told her. ‘You mustn’t worry, you can move in with me just as soon as you like.’

Chloe had put that off as she’d put everything else off. As time went on, Adam no longer seemed as keen to drive into Liverpool to take her out on the town. She was doing her best to hide her pregnancy, but she thought he was no longer proud to have her on his arm. It was only when her pregnancy was becoming obvious and she felt she could no longer work that she was forced to make the move.

The need to tell her mother had been like a wall she couldn’t see beyond. But the other side seemed brighter. She was looking forward to moving in with Adam and devoting herself to him and his lovely house. She comforted herself by thinking of her coming child. Once it was born, it would bring them closer. She would have her own little family.

When they were nearing his house, he said, ‘Come on, love, cheer up. At least that’s over. You’ve got it off your chest; we can both relax now that everybody knows.’

Chloe could feel tears stinging her eyes and couldn’t prevent one rolling down her cheek.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘We’ll go to the Cavendish and have a slap-up dinner and a bottle of wine. That’ll cheer both of us up.’

Chloe swallowed hard. Indigestion was troubling her now, but Adam still wanted rich and heavy dinners. She’d have to accept that this was how things were going to be.

As soon as Rex heard Adam’s car start up and drive off, he went back to the kitchen. He knew Helen would need to be comforted. He found her at the kitchen table with her head down on her arms. When she lifted her face, it was ravaged with tears. She looked even worse than he’d expected.

He sat down next to her. ‘You’re going to tell me,’ she sobbed, ‘that the world has changed and there’s nothing wrong with Chloe living with that man as though she’s his wife, but I know it’s making her very unhappy.’

‘I know, but . . .’

‘It’s what happened to Marigold. She and Gran will be shocked, devastated. I’m horrified at what they’ve done. Chloe went into this with her eyes wide open. She knew the risks she was taking, sleeping with him before they were married.’

Tears were coursing down her cheeks. Rex pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to her. A couple of blades of grass fell on the table from his hand. She swept them on to the floor.

‘I kept telling her to insist he marries her. That she’ll have no legal rights unless he does. She says she doesn’t need legal rights, that she’s happy with things as they are.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ Rex said slowly. ‘She was in tears. Now there’s a baby on the way, they’ll get married and all will be well. Soon this will seem just a storm in a teacup.’

‘No it won’t; they aren’t going to get married. Heavens, Rex, if they meant to get married they’d have done it months ago. I wouldn’t have minded if they just sneaked off to the registry office without telling anybody.’

Rex’s stomach was churning. ‘Is Adam already married?’

‘No, he just doesn’t want it. Doesn’t see the need for it. He says we’re old-fashioned and that nobody bothers about marriage these days.’

‘And Chloe’s going along with that and pretending she doesn’t care?’

‘Yes, she’s going to live with him in Manchester from now on. “My partner”, she calls him. She’ll have the baby there. She’s got all that arranged.’

Rex could sit still no longer. He was boiling with fury at the way Adam had treated Chloe. He could accept that Adam had got her pregnant by accident, but if he loved her, why didn’t he want to marry her? Chloe had been upset and embarrassed enough to keep her pregnancy a secret. There was something very wrong with the way Adam was behaving.

Rex ached to help her, but Adam had put her beyond his reach. Why hadn’t he spoken up before Adam had come on the scene? Let her know what was in his mind? He would have loved and nurtured her. Her happiness would have been his first aim. Adam was a man who thought only of his own pleasure and not of Chloe’s welfare. That was not love.

Helen’s eyes were red and her face was blotchy. She looked anything but her elegant self.

‘Come on.’ He took her hand, pulled her to her feet and led her to the door of the downstairs cloakroom. ‘Dry your eyes and wash your face, it’ll make you feel better. You’ve had a shock, you need a drink.’

He went to the drinks cabinet in the sitting room and poured her a tot of brandy. It showed how badly this had thrown Helen, who was usually very thoughtful for her guests. He poured another tot for himself and waited for her to come in, then put one glass in her hand and showed her the other.

‘I hope you don’t mind. I’m in need too.’

‘Rex, I’m sorry, I’m not thinking straight.’

He raised his glass, ‘For medicinal purposes.’

She sipped cautiously. ‘Chloe is nearly eight months pregnant and I didn’t even know. She couldn’t tell me.’ Her voice was bitter. ‘I find that hurtful.’ He could see the agony in her swollen eyes. ‘Why didn’t I guess? The signs must have been there. I’ve failed as a mother, haven’t I?’

‘No, Helen, you haven’t, you’ve been a good mother over the years I’ve known you. Chloe loves you.’

‘But she doesn’t want to live with me any more. She’s moving in to live with him. How d’you think that makes me feel?’

‘I can see how you feel, but you’re wrong. You mustn’t blame yourself. Chloe doesn’t. She blames herself and she’s full of guilt. She knows she’s hurt you.’

‘But I should have been able to protect her. I tried to warn her.’ Her voice was a wail of protest.

Helen’s tears were coming again and Rex didn’t know how to console her. They’d sat down at opposite ends of the sofa; now he slid closer and felt for her hand.

‘I blame Adam,’ she said. ‘He’s talked her into this.’

Rex sighed. ‘I blame society as a whole. First the Victorians drew heavy curtains across everything to do with sex. Girls must be kept innocent and pure. But now with the pill, the need for that has gone. Youth can no longer see the point. This is the swinging sixties; they think they can push marriage aside, take all that life can give them when they want it.’

‘They don’t realise how hurtful their parents find it.’

‘They don’t realise they can hurt themselves and each other,’ Rex said gently.

He didn’t remember putting his arm round her and pulling her close, but now Helen’s head was on his shoulder. He felt her shudder occasionally in the aftermath of her stormy tears and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

‘Chloe’s no longer a child,’ he said. ‘She wants to go her own way. I’m afraid you’ll have to accept that.’

Rex had had to, and he was finding it painful. He stayed as still as he could, feeling Helen relax against him. He knew she was calming down.

He’d become tightly involved with Helen and Chloe; they’d become his closest friends. And yes, he’d needed their support over the years. Helen snuggled closer. It was almost an hour later when she raised her head.

‘What am I thinking of? I asked you to supper, and here I am making no effort to get it on the table.’

Rex rubbed his shoulder, which had begun to ache. ‘Would you like to go out instead? The bistro, perhaps?’

‘No thanks, I feel awful and I probably look a sight.’

‘Course you don’t,’ but that made him take another look. Helen was nearly forty-six now, and painfully thin. Her face was tear-stained and he could see more grey creeping into her hair.

‘Maybe you aren’t looking your best tonight.’ He smiled. ‘Can I help you cook?’

He followed her to the kitchen. He was hungry. She showed him two steaks in the fridge and gave him the bottle of wine he’d brought to open. With a full glass in her hand she sank back on a chair to sip it, too spent to busy herself with the cooking. It was Rex who scrubbed the new potatoes and washed the mangetout she’d gathered from her own vegetable patch.

He set about grilling the rump steaks, which turned out to be the best he’d ever tasted. Helen had prepared a confection of cream and chocolate sponge to follow. The wine cheered them both, though Helen’s self-control was as brittle as eggshells.

‘A magnificent meal,’ he told her. Helen didn’t drink much and they’d never before opened two bottles of wine on the same evening. But tonight was different; he thought for once it wouldn’t come amiss. They took their coffee back to the sofa in the sitting room. Helen put on some soft music and sat down beside him to put her head on his shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ she said and kissed him. ‘You’ve got me through one of the worst afternoons of my life. What would I have done without you?’

Helen was twelve years older than Rex, while Chloe was almost fourteen years younger. Rex lay back against the cushions wondering if age was all that important, and whether, in lieu of Chloe, living here with Helen would be better than his monastic existence in his poky flat.

He didn’t go back to it that night. She was clinging to him; she said she needed him. In the early hours of the morning he went upstairs with her to her bedroom and made love to her three times. They were both hungry for it.

He was awake well before Helen. He watched her for a while, sleeping peacefully under her satin covers. Then he slipped out of her bed and quietly got dressed. He drank two glasses of water as he passed through the kitchen, then let himself out into the garden. In the cold light of morning, he felt hung-over and shocked at what he’d done. It had changed for ever the relationship he’d had with Helen.

Yes, he was fond of her, but did he love her?

CHAPTER SEVEN

F
OR THE BEST PART of an hour, Rex circled the vegetable patch, crossed the lawns and tramped round the boundary. The vistas of colourful flowers and trees bursting with new leaf no longer delighted him; he couldn’t even be bothered to pull out the odd weed he saw. This was the first time Helen’s garden had failed to bring him pleasure.

Helen had never stopped telling him it had been her salvation, and really, it had been his too. It had given him a friend. Helen was outgoing and chatted as they worked, but that was not his way. He’d opened up to Chloe but not to her mother. He’d listened to Helen’s confidences but given out little of his own troubled circumstances in return.

She knew he’d lost his wife, but nothing of the months of empty loneliness, his feelings of searing loss, or how bleak the future had seemed. He felt he was supporting Helen through similar troubles, and to tell her now his version of grief and loss would be piling on the agony.

It was only when the summerhouse came in view that he remembered. He’d made an appointment at ten o’clock to see another client at the garden centre who wanted to buy a summerhouse. Since his stepfather had built the new extension there, Simon had persuaded him to set aside a small office where Rex could meet his clients before taking them round to see the goods and plants he proposed using. It was good business for both of them.

Rex hurried indoors to boil the kettle and take a tea tray up to Helen’s bedroom. She was just waking up and smiled sleepily. ‘Stay with me today,’ she murmured.

‘I’m afraid I can’t.’

‘You’re already dressed!’ She sat up.

‘Yes, sort of. I need to go home to bath and shave,’ he said, and told her about his appointment.

Her face clouded. ‘I’m worried stiff about Chloe. Marigold will go spare.’

He poured them each a cup of tea and sat down on the end of her bed. ‘You have to accept it, Helen. You have to let go and let Chloe live in her own way.’

‘But she’s ruining everything.’

‘We don’t know that. Many would say there’s nothing wrong with what she and Adam have done; that they stand the same chance of happiness as any newly married couple.’

‘No . . .’

‘It’s human nature, after all. Didn’t we do exactly the same last night? And we don’t have the excuse of . . .’ he almost said ‘love’, but managed to change it to ‘youth’. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her feelings.

‘Come back,’ she implored. ‘I’ll cook dinner for us again tonight.’

When Rex left, Helen tossed and turned in bed for a long time. Yes, she was agonising about Chloe and the mess she’d got herself into, but thinking about Rex soothed her. He’d been a pillar of strength to her for years. There had been times when she’d begun to hope he’d see her as more than a friend, but she’d never so much as hinted of that to him. She’d feared he might not feel the same way.

But last night, whether it was the thunderbolt Chloe had dropped or too much wine, she’d let herself go. She’d encouraged him, kissed him, clung to him. She’d needed him.