The Watchers on the Shore (9 page)

'Good evening, Victor,'she says, nice as you please. 'Have you had a successful day?'

'Yes, I think so.'

'If I'd known you were going to be so late,'Ingrid says, 'I'd have gone home and let Mother go to bed.'

'I came as fast as British Railways would let me,'I tell her.

'Wasn't there an earlier train?'

'Not that I could catch.'

'Don't nag Victor so much,'her mother says. 'He's had a long day and he must be tired.'

I have. Up at six to catch the early train from Wakefield, and on the move ever since. A lot of my time's been spent sitting in trains,
but that's one of the most tiring ways of resting I know. I catch a
yawn.

'Yeh, I am a bit tired. Be nice if I could lie in in the morning.'

'A few hours' sleep and you'll be as right as rain again. You've got your health and strength, that's the main thing.'

'How are you feeling today?'this reminds me to ask.

'Oh, not too bad. It comes and goes. Some days are worse than
others.'

I look at her, wondering how much of it's kid or imagination.
There's no doubt about it, she has aged in the last few years. Her
face is thinner, sallower. Whether it really is bad health, or losing
her husband, or me just really looking and noticing a few more
years on her, I don't know.

'Your mother seems a bit better,'I say to Ingrid when we're walking home.

'It's like she says, she's better some days than others.'

(No, she said she was worse some days than others.)

'Can't anybody find out what's wrong with her?'

'She's going for an X-ray next week. Then p'raps they'll find out.
You know what she thinks it is, don't you?'

I grunt. 'They might find out it's something they can cure without a lot of trouble.'

'Yes, but she's scared. She doesn't say a lot about it, but I can tell. And this other thing doesn't help.'

'What's that?'

'The idea that I might go away and leave her.'

'Have you been talking about it?'

'Of course we've been talking about it. I had to tell her where
you'd gone today. And besides, she's a right to know, hasn't
she?'

'Whatever happened you wouldn't have to move for a bit. Not
until I'd settled in and could look for a house.'

'But it's all upsetting. People don't know where they are. I don't know why you had to start all this just now.'

'Look, I didn't know old Mr Van Huyten was going to snuff it, did I? And Conroy's job's going now, not in six months' time.'

'There'll be other jobs.'

'Mebbe not with good money and prospects like this one, and among friends.'

'You sound as if you liked what you saw.'

'I liked what I saw,'I admit.

'Did you tell them you'd go?'

'No, I said I'd think about it.'

'When do they want to know?'

'I said I'd write within the week.'

'That's no time at all.'

'I wouldn't have to
go
next week. If I said yes they'd mebbe give me a month to clear things up at the shop.'

'It's still quick, all in a rush. We've never even talked about
wanting to move away from here before.'

'It's the way things happen. As far as I knew I was settled at the shop. Now I've got to do something else. Make a decision that Could change our lives.'

'I like my life well enough as it is.'

'It's all right for you. You'll give up working sometime and
stop at home. I've got a lifetime of it in front of me. I just want to
make a proper start, that's all.'

She says nothing, pulling her collar up closer round her neck as
we walk along. There's frost sparkling on the pavements in tiny
flashes of crystal. They say we're in for a hard winter.

When we're in the flat Ingrid asks me if I want some supper.

'I'm not bothered. The fire's gone out and it's too late to get
another one going.'

'When did you eat last?'

'I had a sandwich about six.'

'You ought to have something, then. You must be famished.'

'Oh, I'm past it now. I'm not bothered.'

'Why didn't you have a meal on the train?'

'What, at that price? I'll have a cup of cocoa and drink it while I'm getting undressed.'

'I suppose I should have had your supper waiting when you
came home.'

'I'm not complaining.'

She makes the cocoa and I drink it in the bedroom, draining the
last of it just before I click off the light and slide down under the bedclothes. Ingrid's quiet now, lying with her back to me. I move
in close, fitting myself into the shape of her body, and put my arm
over the front of her. She mutters something I don't catch.

'What?'

'I said, it's the wrong time.'

'Well I
know
it is. Oh Christ!'

I roll over on to my back and look up into the darkness. In a
minute she speaks again.

'I've been hoping all day you'd come back and say it was no good.'

'I can't say that.'

'It still doesn't mean you're forced to take it.'

'No ... I'm not forced to. But somehow I feel I've got to. It's
a
...
it's a sort of challenge, somehow.'

She's quiet for a minute.

'Do you want to get away from me? Is that it?'

'What? Don't be daft.'

'I should have to stay here on my own.'

'But only for a while, till I get something fixed up.'

All at once I begin to see further than her mother's illness, to
what might be the real thing that's bothering her. She's not sure of
me; whether I want her or not.

'Is that what you're really bothered about?'

'I don't want to be on my own.'

'It wouldn't be for long. And I'd be able to get home.'

'You wouldn't be able to afford it every week.'

'I suppose you could move in with your mother for a while. Keep her company till she gets better.'

'Where would you stay then, when you came home?'

'Oh, we'd have to keep this place on.'

'It's all expense.'

'It will be till we get settled down.'

'I don't think it's worth it. I don't see any need for it.'

'I just don't want to go back into engineering round here. I don't think I can face it.'

'You've made up your mind, haven't you?'

'No, not yet. I want you to see it my way.'

'D'you think we could take my mother with us?'

'What?'This really shakes me. In that case it's out. But definitely. 'I can see that working. You know what happened last time.'

'But we're more settled now. Aren't we? It wouldn't be the
same.'

'It'd be just the same. You know the only way your mother and I get on is to see each other as little as possible. That way we can be
nice and polite.'

'I don't want to leave her on her own.'

'She's not an old woman.'

'But she's not well.'

'She will be, then she'll be all right.'

'She might never be well again.'

'Oh Christ! I'm only trying to do what's best for us. I can't
think for everybody.'

'You've got to consider other people. She is my mother. And I'm all she's got.'

'And she's capable of looking after herself. You know, I thought
we'd finished with all that long since, but here we are - up against it
again.'

'Circumstances alter cases.'

'They've altered mine all right.'

'You sound very bitter.'

'Do I?'

'Are you?'

'What about?'

'You know what about.'

'I thought we'd put all that behind us.'

'I have.'

'You're still thinking about it, though.'

'I can't help it sometimes. You don't let me.'

'What have I said-?'

She stirs beside me. 'You know what I mean.'

'No, I don't. If you're going to carry on all the time looking for
hidden meanings in everything I say or do, we shan't get anywhere.'

She turns towards me now. 'Do you love me?'

Ah, dear God, words, words, words. I'm here, aren't I, married to her, living with her?

'If you weren't unwell I'd show you.'

'You know that's not the same thing. There was always that.'

'Yen, but we've been married three years. It can make a difference.'I find her hand and guide it down to me. 'Look what still happens when I get near you.'

'And what happens when it's over?'

Oh, but she should know better than to start all this. We got off
on the wrong foot and we've never really found the step; but we're
here, together, after three years, still making the best of it. And talk
like this won't do us any good at all. When all's said and done we're no worse off than thousands of couples who walked down the aisle
with the idea that eternal paradise was waiting for them on the
other side of the vestry door.

'Well that's a law of nature, love. You can't blame me for that.'

'I wish you'd be serious.'

'I thought we were being too serious.'

'Do you really and truly want to take this job?'

'I think it'll be best for us. A change always does us good.'

'I don't want to be a drag, Vic.'

'I know.'

'It's just that...'

'Look, why not forget it for a couple of days, then let's talk
about it again?'

'What's the town like? Are there some good shops?'

'Lots of them. And London's only forty minutes away. You
could go up there once a week if you wanted to.'

'I'll bet it costs more to live than it does up here.'

'Oh, I don't know. I think there's a lot of rubbish talked about that sort of thing. Anyway, I'd be getting more money.'

'What about houses?'

'We'd probably be better off in a flat to begin with. You know,
till we need more room.'

'You mean, when we have a family?'

'Mmm.'

'Do you feel like trying for another baby now, Vic?'

'It's up to you, love, really.'

She moves closer till I can feel her breath on my face. 'I want your baby,'she whispers. 'I want a boy who'll look just like you.'