The Bright One (53 page)

Two days later when Opal came to Hebghyll, Breda asked to speak with her privately.

‘Well,' Opal said when she heard the news, ‘I'm delighted for you, of course, though I had begun to think . . . ' She broke off.

‘I'd also begun to think that I was never going to have a baby,' Breda said. ‘So I'm especially pleased, and so is Graham.'

‘Of course! In that case what I'd planned to say to you today isn't applicable any longer.'

‘But I'd like to go on working for quite some time yet,' Breda said quickly. ‘I don't want to leave before I must.'

Opal looked thoughtful. ‘Well, I wonder? Yes, I
will
tell you. You see, a woman I know spoke to me last week. She said she'd been taking a great interest in the new windows you've been doing. “Though I still can't get my rooms to look as I want them. I don't seem to have the knack. I think I need advice,” she said.'

Immediately, excitement ran through Breda's veins like fire. If her guess was right, and how could it not be, wasn't what Miss Opal was about to say the most wonderful, most incredible thing you ever heard? She leaned forward eagerly, perching on the very edge of her chair.

‘So I thought about it over the weekend,' Opal continued. ‘I've spoken with Mr Soames and he thinks it will work . . . '

Oh, do come to the point, Breda thought impatiently. Please say it!

‘And what I wondered was, why shouldn't Opal's offer an advisory service on interior design and decorating. Every aspect – colour schemes, fabric, wallpapers, paint, lamps. All the things that go to make a room . . . '

Breda broke in, unable to contain herself another second. ‘Rugs, cushions, china, ornaments . . . and preferably everything from this store!'

‘Exactly! It's nearly five years now since the war ended. Everything's easier to get, no more coupons for materials. And people want a change, something new after all the years of austerity.'

‘Oh, Miss Opal!' Breda could hardly control her voice. ‘Oh, it would be wonderful!'

‘There's the question of space,' Opal said. ‘We don't have much room to spare.'

‘It needn't take up much space,' Breda said. ‘We'd work from books of fabric samples, colour charts, drawings and sketches. Most of the consultation would be in the client's own home, wouldn't it? It would have to be.'

Opal smiled at the growing pleasure in Breda's face, at her shining eyes and the excitement in her voice.

‘You've got the idea exactly. And, of course, what I wanted was for you to head this. You're very young, but you have the talent. I believe, with the right backing, you could have done it.'

‘Could have?' The words came to Breda like a blow, like an ice-cold shower.

‘Well,' Opal said, ‘haven't you just told me that you're going to have a baby? What I have in mind would be a big job, and so is having a child.'

There was a long silence, in which the two women looked at each other. I couldn't bear not to do it, Breda thought. And I couldn't bear not to have a baby.

It was Breda who broke the silence. ‘Miss Opal, may I say something?'

‘Of course!'

‘I don't want to seem cheeky, Miss Opal, but
you
had a baby and kept on working.'

‘I did,' Opal agreed. ‘But it wasn't easy. In fact it was difficult, even though I had my sister to help me. I don't think I could have done it without her help, but who would you have?'

‘I don't know,' Breda confessed. ‘I've no idea. But I do know that I'd find someone, and I'd spend every penny of my wages on paying her!'

‘Money might not be the problem,' Opal said. ‘I had thought that I might put you on a small wage, plus commission, so a lot of it would be up to you. No, your problem would be finding the right person for your baby.'

‘If I couldn't,' Breda said slowly, ‘then I wouldn't do it. The baby's needs would have to come first.'

‘Quite right,' Opal said. ‘So I suggest you go away and think about it. Not so much about the job as about your personal life, yours and Graham's. I'm sure you could do the job, but there are more important matters to face.'

She stood up, a signal for Breda to leave. ‘Come and see me when I'm in Hebghyll next week,' she suggested. ‘But think about it all most carefully.'

Graham's reaction to the news was exactly what Breda had expected it to be. They had returned together from work, and were taking their usual walk. Not until they were sitting on the flat rock, with the whole of Hebghyll laid out below them, did Breda begin to tell Graham about her meeting with Opal.

He did not wait for her to finish before he spoke. ‘It's a wonderful idea, and an honour for you to be asked. But of course you told her it was impossible.'

He was not asking a question, he was stating a fact; without heat, without emphasis. It was her answering silence which caused him to turn and face her. When her eyes met his, and he saw her look, he knew the answer to what he had not even thought worth asking.

‘You did tell her?'

‘I didn't tell her it was
impossible
. Not exactly.'

‘What do you mean, Breda? Of course it's impossible!' His voice was slightly impatient, as if he was speaking to an awkward child.

‘I said we'd think about it. I said we'd discuss it. I said that of course the baby came before everything!'

Don't I sound for all the world as if I'm begging, she thought? Perhaps I am? It was not at all the way she had planned it in her mind.

‘Of
course
the baby comes first!' Graham said. ‘That goes without saying, for both of us. So there's nothing to think about, darling. Nothing to discuss. I dare say you didn't like to tell her outright. But you must.'

‘Would
you
be giving up your job to look after the baby?' she asked.

‘But I don't have to! That's not the way things work, you know that. I earn the living, you look after the home and the children. Those are the facts of life.'

Again she didn't answer. He looked at her anxiously. Perhaps this was a pregnant woman's fancy. Perhaps there would be more of them in the months to come. He took her hand and began to stroke it, gently.

‘You do want this baby, my love?'

‘Oh, of course I do, Graham! You know I do. More than anything in the world. Truly!'

‘And so do I. So everything will be all right. You'll see!'

Breda was not convinced, but she would not show her disappointment, she would not let his reception of her news lead to an argument. She could never bear to quarrel with Graham. She loved him too much.

‘Come along, love! Time we were getting back. I don't want you to catch a chill.' There was always a breeze on the moor, and now, with the sun going down, the warmth had gone from the day.

‘I'll not be catching a chill, silly,' Breda said. Nevertheless, she tucked her arm through his and they set off together down the path to Heather Cottage.

‘What's for supper?' Graham asked.

‘Liver and onions.' How could he think about food?

‘Good! My favourite!'

Didn't all the magazines say, if you wanted to ask your husband a favour, then feed him his favourite food, put on a pretty dress, seek the right moment? Breda doubted if that would work with Graham, even if she was prepared to get round him by such means. He had made up his mind on the subject and as far as he was concerned there was nothing more to be said.

She could not agree. To her mind there was a great deal more to be discussed, no matter to what conclusion the discussion led. But the magazines were partly right, she would have to choose the moment.

In the event, it was Graham who chose it.

They had eaten, and cleared away. Breda went to the window to draw the curtains against the dark night. ‘There's a wind getting up.'

Graham, already immersed in his book, didn't answer. Breda picked up her knitting and went and sat in her armchair. It will be nice, she thought, when we have our new sofa, which will be any day now, and we can sit side by side. She felt the need for his physical nearness.

Presently, he looked up from his book. ‘What are you knitting?'

‘Vests, for the baby. I thought I'd better start on something simple. I've always been good at sewing and never much good at knitting.'

‘One way and another you're going to be quite occupied,' Graham said. ‘Especially if we get the whole house to ourselves. There'll be loads to do. You'll be glad not to have to go out to work.'

An elderly couple, who kept themselves to themselves, who were as quiet as mice and almost as seldom seen, had occupied the ground floor flat. Three months ago the husband had died as quietly as he had lived, and now his widow had packed her bags, been collected one Sunday morning by her son in his small car, and taken to live with him and his family in Derbyshire.

Graham and Breda had gone hotfoot to the landlady in River Road to ask if they might have the whole house. They would have liked to offer to buy it, but the time was not ripe. Though they, and Graham in particular, were now earning more money than when they had married, and could afford the increased rent, they could not afford to buy.

Breda knitted to the end of the row, then put down her needles. ‘'Tis not quite like that, Graham love. I am not after searching for an alternative to going out to work, a chance to stay at home. If I wanted that, the baby alone would provide it . . . '

‘As it does for most women,' Graham interrupted.

‘I know that. But I love my job, and even more I'd love the job Miss Opal has offered me. It's perfect for me.'

She left her chair and went and sat on the floor in front of his chair, leaning against him, taking his hand in hers.

‘Oh, Graham, if only you'd just let me talk to you about it, about how I think it could work for all of us, you, me,
and
the baby! At least please listen, Graham!'

He sighed, closed his book and dropped it on the floor. It landed with a thud. ‘I'm listening.' He sounded wary, reluctant.

‘In the first place, no problem arises until much nearer the time for the baby's birth. I hope to work as long as I can, but I promise that if I'm not fit, or if the doctor advises it, then I'll give up. I'll put our baby first at all times. So if I'm going to work, wouldn't it make sense to take on the new job? Physically, 'twould be easier. If we get the customers – and Miss Opal thinks we will – then I'll not be climbing in and out of windows much longer, dragging furniture about. I'll be visiting people in their homes, I'll be discussing and designing and advising. I'll not be doing the heavy work.'

‘So that takes us up to before you have the baby,' Graham said. ‘And what about afterwards? What about when the baby's here, a fact of life, a real person needing everything to be done for it? You'd have to give up the job then. So is it reasonable – even to Opal – to take it on for a few months and then drop it?'

‘I would at least have set it up, got it going. That would be worth something to me, and I hope to her. Then if I had to drop it, if looking after you and the baby and our home was as much as I could manage, then sure, the job would go. And I'd make that plain to Miss Opal from the start.'

‘You're asking a lot of Opal,' Graham said.

‘And I'll give her a lot in return. Don't forget, it's
she
who wants me to do this. And having children did not stop her working. Will you just look at what
she's
achieved!'

Graham shook his head. ‘Opal's a one-off. She's a law unto herself.'

‘And you think I couldn't achieve what she has? Well, I dare say you're right and
I
don't have the ambition to own two stores. But I'd like to do what I think I'm capable of. I'd like, at least, to be having the chance to try.'

Graham began to stroke her hair. ‘Breda love, I don't know what to say. You make it sound so reasonable, but all my instincts are against it.'

‘Then please think about it,' Breda pleaded. ‘We've got a week, and then I must see Miss Opal again.'

Two days later they received the news that they could indeed rent the whole house, on condition that they made no structural alterations without the permission of the landlady.

‘She's safe enough!' Graham said. ‘We couldn't afford to!'

They had already decided what they would do if the house became theirs. They would at once move their living quarters downstairs, leaving the two rooms upstairs for sleeping, the smaller of which would be for the baby. Downstairs there was a living-kitchen, a slightly larger sitting room and a bathroom.

‘I should make an early start on the garden,' Graham said. ‘We can make something of that, once we clear the weeds.'

Nothing more was said about Breda's job, present or future. It was as if the conversation they had had on that first night had never taken place. But we shall have to talk about it, Breda thought. I have to see Miss Opal on Monday. In any case, she found herself thinking about it most of the time, both when she was working in the store and when she was at home. Thoughts of the job mingled with thoughts of the baby, without, in her mind, any conflict at all. When Sunday came, without Graham having once mentioned the subject, Breda knew it was up to her.

From the minute she returned from Mass, the two of them worked on the rooms downstairs, stripping off layers of dingy wallpaper, sanding down doors. Everything was to be white.

‘Are you sure it won't look cold?' Graham asked.