The Children's Hour (37 page)

‘So what did you really think about Liam?'

There was a short silence.

‘Truth?' asked Hannah cautiously.

‘Truth,' agreed Lyddie firmly.

‘When I first met him I thought, well, lucky old Lyddie! He is, let's face it, a very attractive man, but, after a bit, I began to sense that there was something driving him along a one-way track and that nothing and nobody was going to get in the way of his objective. I was worried that he'd find marriage too demanding and that you'd be abandoned at some wayside station. For instance, I simply couldn't imagine Liam as a father, which would have been fine except that I knew that children were definitely on your agenda,
and, anyway, it seemed such an odd way for you to live. You know what I mean? Spending all day working and then going to the wine bar. There was no privacy, no weekends or evenings for you to be yourselves. I worried about that.'

‘But Liam himself?'

‘Well, I feel this tormented restlessness about him. He's vital, very alive, but there's something desperate about it. Like he's watching himself perform, acting a part and, underneath it all, a terrible obsession. As long as you're prepared to sacrifice yourself to it you'll be fine. Step out of line and you'll be dumped. I think that in another age he might have conquered worlds, or gone with Scott to the Antarctic, but there again . . .' She paused and Lyddie looked at her; sitting straight, her hands lightly on the wheel, her brow furrowed in thought.

‘But there again?' Lyddie prompted.

Hannah bit her lip. ‘I was going to be brutal,' she said anxiously.

‘Well, go on. I expect I can take it.'

‘I was going to say – but there again perhaps not, because there's something
little
about Liam. I suspect that those types whose natural position is leading, conquering, discovering, often have a sexual appetite to match.' She shrugged. ‘Not always, of course, but I can see that it might be all of a piece. A kind of ruthlessness which Liam has certainly displayed. He has charisma but at the same time I just have this feeling that he will only ever be a big frog in a small pond.' She gave a quick sideways glance. ‘Have I upset you?'

‘No,' replied Lyddie, remembering Liam's face when she'd spoken about a chain of wine bars: how he'd seen the vision and then instinctively drawn back from it. ‘Well, only my pride a bit. You feel a twit, don't you, when you've been taken in?'

‘Oh, hell!' exclaimed Hannah. ‘Look, anyone might have been taken in: he's a gorgeous-looking chap. Who wouldn't have been knocked sideways?
I
was. It was only over a period of time that I began to . . .
suspect
him.'

‘It's a relief, really,' said Lyddie. ‘It makes me feel more sure that I'm doing the right thing. It's not easy, walking away from a marriage.'

‘But I thought he was doing the walking? He's the one making the rules. And the rules are not fair ones, Lyddie. You can't accept a situation like this where one partner says, “I must have the freedom to do exactly as I please no matter how it hurts or humiliates you”, honestly you can't. Marriage or not. Well,' she shrugged again, ‘only if you can't live without him.' Another anxious glance. ‘Do you feel that might be the case?'

Lyddie took a deep breath. ‘Just occasionally,' she admitted, ‘I need him so much I almost feel tempted but I only have to think of Rosie or walking into The Place and I know I couldn't do it. I'm going to have to manage somehow.'

‘Might you go back to London?'

‘I simply don't know. I can't see it somehow; it's like starting again. Except that I'm not twenty-two any more and my friends mostly have partners or are married.' She shook her head and tried for a lighter note. ‘Anyway, what would I do with the Bosun?'

‘You know that needn't be a problem if you really wanted to do it.'

Lyddie smiled. ‘Bless you. I wish I knew what was right.'

‘Could you afford to live, doing what you do now?'

‘Just about – as long as I get my money from the house and buy my own place, however small. Without rent or a mortgage I might just get by.'

‘Will Liam sell the house in Truro? You should get something from that, surely?'

‘It's heavily mortgaged already and I don't want to be demanding about this. He's got enough financial problems as it is.'

Hannah raised her eyebrows but said nothing for a moment.

‘Don't make any important decisions until after Christmas,' she suggested presently. ‘We'll come down to Ottercombe to see you all and have some fun and you could come to us for the New Year. What do you think?'

Lyddie gratefully accepted this offering as a breathing space and the talk turned to lighter subjects.

It was several days later before Mina wrote again to Elyot.

From:
  Mina
To:
      Elyot

And so the day is nearly upon us. It seems like several light years since I told you that Georgie would be arriving – and now it's all over. We've all survived it and, although her presence has triggered off so many memories and prised open some of Pandora's boxes, I can honestly say that I think, on the whole, it has been for the good. Nest looks much better – more content, younger – and she and Lyddie seem to be settling down to a new acceptance of their relationship, which is strongly underpinned by the affection they've always shared. For myself, I have been forced to come to terms with a foolish decision I took as a young girl and which has been buried ever since. We've confronted these things together, Nest and I, and we've drawn even
closer because of it. I wish I could tell you much more, dear Elyot, but these are not just
my
secrets and already you know so much of what goes on here at Ottercombe. I still feel certain that one day you will come here to see us all.

As for Georgie, well, now that her departure is at hand I feel unusually fond of her! More seriously, much though I feel saddened by the thought of her in a home I know that we couldn't keep her here. Even in these few weeks I've seen a deterioration and I simply couldn't be responsible for some disaster. Nest must be my first responsibility but there are moments – long, hard moments – when I feel very badly at the thought of letting Georgie go. I know that Helena will do everything that is proper – that sounds so cold, doesn't it? – but I also have the feeling that very soon she will not really know quite where she is or whether it matters. If that sounds as if I am trying to comfort myself, well, there might be an element of truth in it but I really do believe that she is losing her grasp on what is happening. Her ‘foggy' moments are occurring more often and lasting for longer periods and she is a continual worry to me as to where she is and what she is up to.

Lyddie seems to be coping remarkably well although I suspect she misses Liam very much. She works very hard, which occupies her mind and saves her from too much brooding, but if you come upon her unawares you catch a glimpse of the misery she feels deep down. The dogs are learning to live together too. My darling old Polly Garter spends most of her time asleep but Nogood Boyo is thoroughly enjoying this new friend and clearly likes having some young blood about the place. He and the Bosun have some splendid games together and Boyo is learning to ignore his father's grumpiness and make his own decisions.

He's developing a rather cocky swagger – it's definitely a case of ‘me and my friend Bosun' – whilst the Bosun is also gaining in confidence and will actually come into a room where Captain Cat is in possession, although he still looks distinctly nervous and stays as far away from him as possible!

So how are things with you? Lavinia? William? All well, I hope?

From:
  Elyot
To:
      Mina

I can't tell you how deeply glad I am to receive your sitrep. I can well imagine how your feelings must war together regarding Georgie. Knowing you, my dear old friend, I feel you would be happier if you could gather her in beneath your capacious and comforting wing but you are right to resist it. I know to my cost that this wretched dementia creeps stealthily on, sometimes shuffling, sometimes sprinting, and you never know what might happen from one day to the next. Situated where you are – and how you are – you simply can't afford to take the responsibility. If something were to go badly wrong you'd never forgive yourself.

And if you detect a note of serious anxiety – even panic? – in my ‘voice' then you are quite right. Quite suddenly, yesterday, Lavinia took a downward turn, which took the form of not knowing who I was, screaming in true terror when I approached her, fighting me. She tried to run away from me, wrenching at the front door in an attempt to open it, fell badly and has had to be taken to the cottage hospital. She has broken her wrist and sprained an ankle and is in an altogether wretched condition. As you know, this lack of
recognition has happened before but it has been possible to calm her down eventually. This truly violent reaction was terrifying for both of us – unfortunately William was out shopping – and I cannot forget her expression of fear as she stared at me nor her pitiable state once she'd fallen.

I can't tell you how glad I am to have William with me now. Stay in touch.

From:
  Mina
To:
      Elyot

My dear Elyot
I was shocked to read your account of poor Lavinia's lapse and her accident. What a devilish thing this is, isn't it, eating away at the mind, stealing away memory and rationality? I am so pleased that you have William at hand, and how good of you, at such a time, to share your experience so as to strengthen my own hesitant decision. You are right in suggesting that my instinct is to keep Georgie with me but I see now that it would be wrong to consider it – even if Helena and Rupert were to allow it, which is very unlikely.

But never mind me! My thoughts are so much with you. Is there anything I can do?

From:
  Elyot
To:
      Mina

Only be there to listen and to make me feel that I have a very good friend close at hand. I'm well aware that this accident has brought us to a new point from which there is no going back and made me face the fact that we couldn't have
continued to jog along as we were. Even that state, now that Lavinia is settled in the hospital, seems desirable compared to this loneliness. I realize now that I was simply going from day to day refusing to look beyond the next meal or to face the future.

Thank God for William.

From:
  Mina
To:
      Elyot

Of
course
I am here – you know that. Oh, my very dear friend, how I feel for you. Of course you must be missing Lavinia terribly and I quite understand that you'd rather have gone on as you were with her at home with you. It is even harder when you've been depended on so much. Suddenly everything seems so pointless, a terrible emptiness turns the world grey, and life stretches futilely ahead. And I'm supposed to be comforting you!!! What can I say?

From:
  Elyot
To:
      Mina

Your very real understanding is a thousand times more valuable than meaningless banalities. As usual you have given me comfort and made me feel that I am not isolated. How terribly important this is and, though William is such a comfort, at these times we need those who have suffered in a like manner. Dear Mina, I cannot write any more tonight except to say how very grateful I am to you.

God bless you and goodnight.

From:
  Mina
To:
      Elyot

I know you won't read this tonight, and quite right, too. You need rest. I couldn't go to bed, however, without reminding you that we are here if you need us; if you think that a trip to Ottercombe might do you and William some good. I know once you told me that you live near Taunton so it's not too far.

Anyway! It might be much too early to think of such a thing and I'm sure you're spending a great deal of time with Lavinia at the hospital but the invitation is there.

Goodnight, dear Elyot.

Helena arrived late in the morning to fetch her mother; for the other three, waiting for her, the hours since breakfast had stretched interminably.

‘It's not that I want to see the back of her,' Mina had assured Nest despairingly, ‘it's simply that she looks so wretched. I feel like a traitor.'

‘I know. I feel exactly the same but what can we do? You know that you couldn't possibly shoulder the responsibility of looking after her indefinitely.'

Lyddie watched them anxiously. She'd come down from her study to make herself some coffee and was distracted by their evident distress.

‘Doesn't she want to go?' she asked.

They turned towards her, ready to share their fears with her.

‘It's simply that she won't know anyone at the home and it will be so strange for her,' said Mina, her hands winding unconsciously together. ‘To be honest, I don't quite know
how much she knows. I simply feel this sense of reproach emanating from her, as if she feels that this is her home and we're throwing her out. Being here has taken her – well, all of us – so far back into the past that I'm not sure she can remember what happened before she was here.'

‘I'm sure she can,' said Lyddie gently. ‘After all, she doesn't question who Helena is, does she? Or that she has some kind of right to fetch her?'

‘No,' agreed Mina, after a moment. ‘No, that's absolutely true, she doesn't. But I still feel that there's been some change.'

Nest bit her lip. She had a horrid feeling that the change had followed the conversation in the sitting-room when Georgie had said, ‘I know a secret,' and Nest had responded, ‘So do I.' After that brief exchange Nest had watched an expression of surprise, confusion and finally a kind of despair pass over her sister's face. The jigging of the shoulders and the sly smile, the tapping foot and inward glee had died away and she'd drooped, slumping into the corner of the sofa. She'd refused to answer or talk to Nest, turning her head from her so that, after a while, Nest had gone away. Yet she'd felt guilty that in confronting Georgie at last, she'd removed her power, defused the vital will to control.