Fran had arranged to visit her mother the following day.
‘Cook has managed to get a nice fresh piece of halibut, knowing that it is your favourite,’ her mother announced as they sat down to lunch.
Fran decided it was not the right moment to tell her mother that she did not particularly like halibut. It would probably never be the right moment, she reflected.
Her mother rattled on, bringing her up to date about various relatives and acquaintances, to say nothing of the campaign to improve the farm cottages that were such an eyesore on the edge of the village. Fran tried to concentrate, remembering to compliment the wretched halibut while desperately wondering how on earth she was going to raise the topic she had come about. At this rate, she would be getting back on the bus with the thing still unsaid.
Eventually her mother ran out of steam and asked if she had any news.
Now or never. Fran took a deep breath. ‘Yes, as it happens, I do have something to tell you. It’s about Michael.’
‘You’re getting back together!’ her mother exclaimed. ‘Oh, I knew he would see the error of his ways eventually.’
‘No Mummy, it’s not that. You see …’ Fran gulped. Her mother’s generation did not expect pregnancies to be casually raised over the luncheon table, even when there were no men present. ‘The woman Michael has been living with is going to have his child, so I have decided to give him a divorce.’
‘No! Frances, no! I absolutely forbid it.’
‘Mummy, please. I am twenty-eight years old.’
‘And still my daughter. You cannot possibly consider it. A divorce is out of the question. Divorce indeed!’
‘It’s for the sake of the child,’ Fran appealed. ‘Michael will be able to marry the woman and give the child a father. Times are changing and divorce is becoming quite normal now. Lord and Lady Inverwood were divorced only last year.’ Her mother was a sucker for the aristocracy.
‘And are no longer received at court,’ snapped her mother. ‘Besides which, that is completely different. The aristocracy often have arranged marriages, and it is therefore entirely understandable if there are occasional incompatibilities. You married Michael of your own free will, making your marriage vows before God. You made your bed and now you must lie on it.’
‘That is a very cruel thing to say.’ Fran was finding it difficult to keep her temper in check. ‘Michael left me. Do you seriously believe I should spend the rest of my life alone? Why should I be punished for a situation that was not of my making?’
‘Don’t overdramatize, Frances. You are not being punished, as you put it. If you had known the suffering of nursing a sick husband and losing both your sons as well, you might have something to complain about. As it is, you came into enough money to live independently and do not have to work for your living. There are plenty of good causes to which you could devote your time, if you only chose to do so.’
‘Suppose the time came when I wanted to marry again and perhaps have children?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ her mother snapped. ‘No respectable man would marry a divorcee. You cannot possibly contemplate remarriage.’
‘Perhaps you would prefer me to live in sin with an unrespectable man?’
‘Frances! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? That’s it, isn’t it? You would be glad to have me out of the way, I’m sure. You clearly care nothing about my feelings, springing this awful news on me like this. You were always a selfish girl. If Geoffrey and Cecil were still alive, they would not sit by and allow you to treat me like this. As for your poor father, he must be turning in his grave if he can hear you saying these things. Illegitimate babies and divorce! I never imagined such things would become topics of conversation in this house, let me tell you. Clearly you won’t be satisfied until you have worried me into an early grave.’