Joe opened the French windows of the morning room and stepped out on to the terrace. The stone Victorian planters were bright with masses of red and white tulips and the red, white and pink buds on the rhododendrons and azaleas that filled the shrubberies bordering the garden were coming into bloom. The lawns had been cut, dressed and spiked ready for summer. His grandmother’s orders? Or had the gardener continued to work to the best of his capabilities in the hope that the new owner would keep him on?
He looked down at the beach and imagined walking there with Lily, and later their children. Throwing balls for the children and sticks for the dog. The floppy-eared golden retriever he had always wanted and his mother had never allow him to have …
‘Congratulations, Joseph.’
He turned to see Esme standing behind him. ‘That seems to be an inappropriate word to use on the day of grandmother’s funeral.’
‘Even when she’s made you a very wealthy young man?’ She picked a few wrinkled brown leaves from the ivy that climbed past the French windows to the first-floor balcony. ‘You’ll be needing a housekeeper. I could stay on, supervise a daily and look after the place for you.’
‘Mr Thomas advised me to lease it until I’m ready to live here myself.’
‘Lease this house!’ She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d suggested burning it down.
‘On a renewable contract. He explained that I could reclaim it at three months’ notice whenever I wish. He has a tenant in mind.’
‘And when this tenant wrecks the furniture, ruins the decor …’
‘I intend to change it when I finally move in,’ he cut her short. ‘Until then, leasing it out will give me an income to cover the overheads and pay for any repairs that need doing.’
‘It’s easy to see who you’ve been talking to. You even sound like Richard Thomas.’
‘He is our family solicitor.’
‘And like him, all you see when you look at this house is an “investment” property to be milked for even more money for your overflowing coffers.’
Joe looked out over the bay to the glittering sea. ‘It means a lot more than that and I’d like to live here one day but not as it is. It’s decorated to grandmother’s taste, not mine.’
‘It’s full of things, mine, your grandparents’ …’
‘Take whatever you like.’
She froze as realisation dawned. ‘When is this tenant moving in?’
‘As soon as it can be arranged. I’ve told Mr Thomas to go ahead.’
‘And where am I supposed to go?’ Her eyes blazed furiously.
He recalled what Richard Thomas had told him about his grandmother ensuring his mother was well provided for. ‘You have the divorce settlement and the monthly allowance Dad … John Griffiths has made you.’
‘You consider that enough? After you’ve just been left my mother’s entire estate?’
‘Mr Thomas …’
‘To hell with bloody Richard Thomas.’
He moved away from her, hitting his back against the balustrade. It was the first time he had heard her swear. Then he saw her sway and realised she had been drinking. ‘Mr Thomas told me grandmother wanted me to inherit her estate to ensure the house remained in the family.’
‘And the generation in between your grandmother and you?’
‘I don’t know what happened between you and grandmother …’
‘You happened between me and my mother,’ Esme interrupted bitterly.
‘I didn’t ask to be born.’
As he uttered the stock phrase of the peeved child, Esme’s face contorted into pure hatred. ‘If your father had been allowed his way you wouldn’t have been. I should have listened to him …’
‘Who was he?’ A cloud blocked out the sun, snatching the warmth of the afternoon light from the terrace. He shivered as the temperature dropped.
‘Isn’t it obvious? The man who made damned sure you inherited everything my mother had to give. The man who looked after your trust fund …’
‘Richard Thomas is my father?’
‘I … I …’
‘Richard Thomas!’
The impact of Joe’s disgust mitigated the effect of the brandy. Esme opened her mouth but, stunned by the intensity of Joe’s revulsion, no words came.
‘Richard Thomas is old enough to be my grandfather. He was probably older than your father. He was your godfather …’
‘I was only eighteen,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘I went to a convent school. We weren’t told anything about men or life in those days. Richard knew that and took advantage of me. I was upset, lonely, my father had just died … Joseph …’ Too late Esme realised she was calling to his back as he ran away from her down to the beach.
*……*……*
‘Lily! Over here!’
Lily looked around as she left the bank but couldn’t see anyone she knew until the passenger door of a red sports car parked in front of her swung open and Joe leaned out. ‘Come for a drive.’
‘Joe, I can’t …’
‘Please, Lily, I’ve had a foul day,’ he pleaded desperately. ‘I need to talk to someone and you know me better than anyone else. Just half an hour,’ he begged. When she didn’t step any closer, he added, ‘Is Martin so terrified you’ll run off that he won’t even allow you to talk to your friends?’
‘Of course not. He’s just sensitive about my seeing you.’
‘I only wish he had cause to be. Please’ – he looked at her through anguished eyes – ‘if you never talk to me again, spare me a few minutes now.’
She had never seen Joe so fraught or distressed. ‘Just a drive?’
‘Even if I wanted to make it more, I’ve had such a disgusting day that I’m not up to anything else.’
‘I should have remembered. Jack said your grandmother’s funeral was today. I’m so sorry, Joe, I meant to write a condolence letter to you and Helen …’
‘Stop apologising and get in.’
Waving goodbye to a couple of the girls who worked with her and wishing the car weren’t quite so flamboyant, Lily finally climbed in, bundling her wide skirt and petticoats around her legs so they wouldn’t bunch round the gear stick. ‘Has your father changed his car?’
‘For this?’ He shook his head as he drove off. ‘Nice thought, but unfortunately not. I borrowed it from Robin on the off chance you’d come with me.’
‘To where?’
‘Somewhere we can talk.’
‘You must have a place in mind.’ She untied the scarf she was wearing from round her neck and placed it over her head, knotting it beneath her chin in the hope of saving her French pleat from disintegrating in the breeze that whipped across the open top of the car.
‘How about Langland?’ He drove past the Guildhall and out on to the Mumbles Road.
‘To your grandmother’s house?’
‘She left it to me.’
‘Joe, I don’t want to go there with you.’
He kept his attention fixed on the road. ‘Don’t worry; it’s the last place I’d take you. My mother is living there. For the moment,’ he added, relishing the power he had to evict her and hating himself for being small-minded enough to enjoy it.
‘Then why go to Langland?’
‘We can walk on the beach and talk. It is public.’
‘And you want your mother to see us.’
‘God, no.’ He turned the wheel abruptly and swerved into a car park alongside the waterfront, incurring an angry horn blast from the car behind. Driving into a parking bay, he turned off the engine.
‘That wasn’t very sensible.’
‘I’m not feeling very sensible.’ His hands shook as patted his pockets in search of his cigarette case.
‘What’s happened, Joe?’ she asked quietly.
‘My grandmother has left me her entire estate – well, almost, but what she didn’t leave me wasn’t worth having.’ He sat back and stared at the beach. The tide was at its furthest point, exposing a vast stretch of mudflats populated by small boys and ardent fishermen digging for lugworm. He watched them for a moment. ‘I told you about my trust fund.’
‘That wasn’t part of what your grandmother left you?’
‘Oh, no.’ He adopted a mocking tone. ‘You can have absolutely no idea just how wealthy your companion is. According to the family solicitor, “the wealthiest young man in Swansea”.’
‘And you brought me here to boast about it.’ She depressed the door handle.
‘No! Lily,’ he called out to her as she left the car. ‘What do you think I am?’
‘At this moment I’m not sure.’
‘Lily …’
Turning, she ran down on to the beach.
He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before climbing out of his seat and locking the car. She was running so quickly it took him a few minutes to catch up. Arriving behind her, he gripped her arm to slow her down.
‘If you picked me up from work to tell me how much you’ve got, and how mad I’d be to turn you down again, you’re talking to the wrong girl, Joe Griffiths.’
‘It’s nothing like that, Lily. Please.’ Steadying her, he forced her to face him. ‘Do you remember one night not long after I asked you to marry me, when I discovered John Griffiths wasn’t my real father?’
She calmed down enough to murmur, ‘Yes.’
‘And I told you I went to see my mother and she insisted it was her secret and she would never tell me who had fathered me? Well, today she changed her mind. My father is the family solicitor, Richard Thomas.’
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Helen’s boss, the one we met at Robin and Angie’s party?’
‘The man Helen christened “sneaky old grubby eyes”.’
‘Judy, not Helen, coined that expression,’ she muttered, not thinking about what she was saying. She couldn’t have been more shocked. Richard Thomas was old enough to be Joe’s grandfather and the only time she had met him he’d sent shudders down her spine. Helen had told her that every girl who worked in the solicitor’s office, including her, hated being alone in a room with him because whenever he looked at them they felt as though he were mentally undressing them. ‘Are you sure? I mean, he’s ancient and nothing at all like you, not in looks or ways.’
‘For that at least, thank you. But consider the alternative: I take after my mother.’ Discarding his cigarette, he ground it into the sand with his shoe.
‘You’re your own person, Joe.’ She led the way back towards the sea wall.
‘I wish.’ He sat beside her and stared at the sea. It looked colder, greyer than the sea in front of his grandmother’s house in Langland – not his grandmother’s, his.
‘You just said it, Joe, one of the wealthiest young men in Swansea. You can do anything you want.’
‘With the trust fund my real father has looked after for years. How can I be sure it only holds what my great-aunt invested for me, not Richard Thomas’s conscience money for abandoning my mother when she was pregnant with me? And as if that’s not enough, he also drew up my grandmother’s will and, according to my mother, persuaded my grandmother to drop everyone else in the family in favour of me.’
‘Your mother’s upset.’ Lily gripped his hand in an attempt to stop him from shaking. ‘She couldn’t have known what she was saying; she’s just lost her mother …’
‘You don’t know my mother, the only thing she’s upset about is losing free board and lodging at one of the best addresses in Swansea.’
‘That’s a dreadful thing to say.’
‘My mother’s a dreadful person.’ Pulling one of his hands free, he extricated his cigarette case from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
‘Joe …’
Opening his case he offered her a cigarette. When she refused, he pushed one between his lips and lit it. ‘Don’t you realise Richard Thomas could have been fattening my trust fund with his money for years – for all I know the fund could even have been his idea in the first place. He was my mother’s godfather, the confidant of everyone in the family including my grandmother and aunt. Old enough to have fathered my mother and …’ Sickened by the thought of his mother and Richard Thomas together – he covered his mouth with his fist.
‘Have you talked to Mr Griffiths about this?’
‘How can I? He’s never known who my real father was. He’ll be as devastated as I am.’
‘Do you think Mr Thomas knows that you’re his son?’
‘He knows.’ He drew heavily on his cigarette. ‘My mother made that much clear when she told me she suspected him of topping up my trust fund and influencing my grandmother to leave everything to me, to spite her.’
‘Why on earth would she think Mr Thomas would want to spite her?’
‘Because when she discovered she was pregnant, he wanted her to get rid of me and she wouldn’t.’ His hand shook so much he dropped his cigarette. ‘Presumably, as I’m now here and not to be got rid of, he’s decided a wealthy bastard is less of an embarrassment than a poor one.’
Lily sensed his rage, burning hot, painful – and destructive. ‘You can’t let this blight your life, Joe.’
‘How can I touch a penny of my trust fund or my grandmother’s estate knowing that bastard probably rigged it?’
‘You have to ask him if he has.’
‘What’s the point?’ He took his lighter from his pocket and flicked on the flame. ‘If he says yes I’ll feel as if my inheritance is tainted and if he says no I won’t believe him.’
‘You could hand over all your affairs to another solicitor and ask him to check everything. If Richard Thomas has given you money, you don’t have to touch it.’
‘Always the practical one.’ He looked at her as he returned his lighter to his pocket. ‘Would you take the money if Richard Thomas were your father?’
‘He’s not my father so I don’t know how I’d feel.’
‘Would you take money your mother had earned by selling herself down on the docks?’
His question hurt, not because she wanted to pretend her real mother was anything other than a prostitute but because he had reminded her of her parentage – yet again. ‘You’re forgetting my mother only came looking for me to get money out of Uncle Roy. She practically sold me to Auntie Norah.’
‘I’m sorry … I didn’t mean … Oh God!’ He ran his hands through his hair, rumpling his curls. ‘I’m so confused I don’t know what I’m saying or doing. I begged you to come with me because you’re the one person I can talk to about this and now I’ve upset and humiliated you. Lily, I’m sorry …’
‘I’ll get over it,’ she said flatly.
‘You’re nothing to do with your real mother.’
‘I know that, Joe.’ Untying the scarf from her head, she replaced it round her neck. ‘I only wish everyone else realised it.’
‘Do people bring it up? Because if they do, I’ll …’
‘You’re the only one who brings it up.’ Her hair was caught painfully at the nape of her neck. Reaching up, she pulled out her hair clips and shook it free. ‘Uncle Roy and I haven’t mentioned her since the day of our engagement party. Helen, Judy and Katie asked about her. After I told them what I knew, they said they were sorry and that was the end of it as far as they were concerned. But every single time I talk to you my mother comes into the conversation.’
‘I only mentioned your mother because I finally discovered who fathered me and hoped that because you had been through a similar experience you would understand how I feel.’
‘Seeing as how my mother is a common prostitute and your father a wealthy solicitor, I fail to see the connection.’
‘I don’t want Richard Thomas to be my father any more than you want a prostitute for a mother.’
‘He’s a wealthy, important man, Joe.’ She brushed sand from her skirt. ‘He has influence in the town. He could help you when you leave university.’
‘He also abandoned my mother and me,’ he pronounced bitterly.
‘He must have had his reasons. He could have been married already.’
‘As it happens, he was. He’s had the same wife for forty-odd years,’ he admitted, ‘but that doesn’t excuse what he did.’
‘Perhaps the trust fund was his way of keeping in touch with you, in which case you can’t accuse him of totally abandoning you. And your mother did marry another man.’
‘Only because Richard Thomas deserted her.’
‘I think you’re making assumptions when you don’t know the facts.’ Leaving the wall, she stood in front of him. ‘You have to talk to him and your mother.’
‘Why should I give either of them the time of day?’
‘Because if you don’t you’ll drive yourself crazy.’
‘When I last talked this over with John Griffiths, he suggested that my father might have been one of my mother’s set, a student or someone too young to get married and support a family.’
‘And you would have preferred that.’
‘Frankly, yes, anyone other than a lecherous bastard old enough to be my grandfather.’
‘Do you remember how you used to say that I was the last surviving member of the Russian royal family, the daughter or granddaughter of a child smuggled out by an Irish nanny?’
‘I had to explain away the surname of Sullivan somehow.’ He almost smiled at her.
‘And as you didn’t even have a surname to explain away because you had John Griffiths’ you thought you could have been the son of an intellectual, a film star, a member of the royal family …’
‘I confess I had my fantasies, but then you know all about those. The castles, or rather cottages I built in the air.’ He changed the subject before she could mention Martin. ‘So what would you do in my position?’
‘First, I wouldn’t forget who brought me up.’
‘My mother …’
‘Think of what it must have been like for her, Joe. Pregnant with an older man’s baby, unmarried …’
‘I’ll never forgive her,’ he broke in sternly.
‘For giving birth to you when Richard Thomas wanted to “get rid” of you …’
‘That doesn’t alter the fact he’s trying to buy me now.’
‘You don’t know that for certain and you won’t until you talk to him.’
‘I wish he didn’t have money and position. I’d have more respect for him if he’d been a common labourer who’d had the decency to marry my mother.’
‘That’s easy to say after you’ve had all the advantages of a comfortable upbringing, including a university education.’
‘Yes, it is.’ He followed her example and rose from the wall. ‘And you’re right, I do have to see him if only to find out if he did influence my grandmother’s will and put money into my trust fund.’
‘And if he did?’
‘I won’t touch a penny of it.’
‘And your grandmother’s house?’
‘Give it to Helen.’
‘You can do that, but Richard Thomas will still be your father.’
‘Then what do you suggest I do?’
‘About your trust fund and grandmother’s estate, whatever you want. About Richard Thomas, talk to him and accept the fact of him, even if you decide never to see him again.’
‘Like you with your mother.’
‘Like I said, Joe, I can’t ignore who my mother is, but I can stop myself from getting angry or feeling embarrassed.’
‘I wish I could be like you.’ He looked into her eyes, tawny gold in the evening sunlight.
‘Everyone’s their own person. You have to make your own life.’
He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘How could I ever have been foolish enough to let you go?’
‘You didn’t let me go, I went and we’re friends now, remember.’
As he hugged her and felt her heart beating next to his, he did remember – just long enough to keep their embrace chaste.
Restless, needing to talk to someone, disappointed not to find Lily at home and knowing Judy wouldn’t be back from Mumbles for another half-hour, Katie found her way down to her brothers’ basement. Knocking on the door, she walked in to find Sam alone in the kitchen.
‘Tea,’ he offered, pouring boiling water into the teapot.
‘No thanks, I was looking for Martin.’
‘He’s working late.’
‘So he is. I forgot.’
‘Jack’s in. He’s changing to go down the hospital.’ Pushing a cup in front of her, Sam handed her the milk and sugar. ‘You look beat. Tough day at work?’
‘Yes.’ Without thinking what she was doing she sat at the table and poured milk into her teacup.
‘Tea’s ready,’ Sam announced as Jack burst through the door juggling a bright-red tie while trying to push studs into his collar.
He glanced at the clock. ‘I’ve only ten minutes.’
‘Mr Griffiths will wait for you.’
‘We want to get to the ward before Helen’s mother.’
‘Is she visiting her as well?’ Katie asked.
‘Not if we can help it.’ He frowned at his sister. ‘You all right? You look a bit peaky.’
‘That’s just what I said. How about we go for a walk on the beach, get some fresh air and meet Jack in Joe’s ice cream parlour after visiting?’
Before Katie could refuse, Jack said, ‘That sounds like a great idea. I can always do with some company after visiting. I hate having to leave Helen in that place when the bell rings, as much as she hates having to stay there.’ He screwed his tie into an unwieldy knot. ‘Bloody thing! And you didn’t hear that.’ He stood still as Katie pulled it free from his collar. Smoothing it between her fingers, she knotted it neatly. ‘Thanks, sis. I didn’t want to see Helen wearing a black one. Big night tonight, the doctor’s rounds were this morning and she was hoping they’d give her the all clear to leave before the weekend.’
‘Does she know yet that you have to report for your National Service on Monday?’ Sam opened a tin of biscuits and foraged through the mess of broken digestives in the hope of finding a hidden chocolate cream.
‘I talked it over with her father. We thought it would be best to tell her when she gets home.’
‘She’s going to be devastated,’ Katie murmured.
‘Do you think I like having to leave her just as she comes out of hospital?’ Jack glanced at the clock again. ‘I’ll give the tea a miss, Sam. See you in Joe’s.’
Katie glared Sam as the door closed. ‘This is not a date.’
‘Absolutely. Just a walk, an ice cream and your brother takes you home. But you have to admit it’s criminal to stay indoors on an evening like this, particularly after a day at the office. I don’t know what yours is like but I don’t believe a breath of fresh air has stirred the hallowed chambers of the police station in years. See you in half an hour,’ he called after her as she went to the stairs.
‘Three-quarters, I need to change.’
‘You look fantastic as you are.’
‘I should hope so. These are my working clothes. I’m going to put on a pair of pedal-pushers.’
‘Twenty minutes out front.’ His heart sank. He’d hoped that perseverance would eventually wear Katie down. But it didn’t seem likely when she was ‘dressing down’ to go out with him.
‘You’re up.’ Jack beamed as he walked down the ward with John Griffiths to find Helen sitting in a chair next to her bed, which had been moved into the general ward the week before.
‘Not only up, I can stay out of bed all day, walk around and bath myself. And’ – her smile had a trace of the old mischievous Helen – ‘the doctor says, if I’m good, I’ll be discharged on Friday morning.’
‘It will be wonderful to have you home.’ Jack sat beside her.
‘I’ll even give Jack Friday and Saturday off to look after you.’
‘You meany, Dad. Why only Friday and Saturday?’
‘In the meantime you can study this.’ John gave Jack a guarded look as he handed Helen the envelope that Richard Thomas had entrusted to him.
She picked suspiciously at the wax seal. ‘What is it?’
‘A list of everything your Aunt Julia left to your grandmother when she died. Your grandmother’s left it to you.’
‘The house overlooking Limeslade beach.’ Her eyes shone with excitement.
‘And everything else your Aunt Julia owned.’
‘Including the furniture?’
‘Apparently so. Richard Thomas wanted to talk to you about it but I told him he’d have to wait until you are out of hospital.’
‘Thank you.’ She shuddered at the thought of her boss’s wet lips and slack mouth. ‘I’d hate him to see me in my nightdress.’
‘Helen, he’s old enough to be your grandfather.’ John looked around for a chair.
‘And a horrible, greasy, lecherous …’
‘He hasn’t done anything to you, has he?’ Jack broke in anxiously.
‘Not unless you count looking at me as if he can see through my clothes.’
‘If I’d known that, I would never have let you work for him.’ Jack flushed as his temper rose.
‘“Let me!” You may be my husband, Jack Clay, but you don’t own me.’
‘Save your quarrelling for situations you can do something about.’ John lifted out a stool from under the bed and sat down next to Jack. ‘And as you’re no longer working for Richard Thomas it’s all a bit academic.’
‘He fired me!’
‘He told me this afternoon that he’s filled your position.’
‘It’s just as well,’ Jack declared. ‘You couldn’t have gone back for months and that was before you told me he was after you.’
‘I didn’t say he was after me. I said he looked at me …’
‘Jack’s right, love,’ John intervened, in an attempt to stave off an argument. ‘You need to rest and get your health back.’
‘Now the two of you are ganging up on me.’
‘Jack needs all the support he can get to keep you in order,’ John joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
‘Neither of you is going to turn me into a housewife. I’d go mad …’
‘Come on, Helen,’ Jack coaxed, ‘it’s not as if you even liked working for Richard Thomas. You were always on about how much you hated it. This could be an opportunity to do something you really want – when you’re well.’
‘Just like a man. “Do what I want” when I’ve no training for anything other than office work.’
‘Actually, I have a proposition.’ John propped his stick against Helen’s bed. ‘I was going to bring it up after you came home. But now might be as good a time as any. You could work for me.’
‘As a junior under Katie! Thanks but no thanks.’
‘Not in the office. Do you remember those underclothes you wanted for your trousseau that the buyer insisted wouldn’t sell in Swansea?’
‘And then went like hotcakes,’ Helen crowed.
‘It made me think that the warehouse could do with another buyer. A young person with an eye for young people’s fashion.’
‘This isn’t a “let’s feel sorry for poor Helen and find her something to do”, is it?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘Because if it is …’
‘This is a “yesterday morning I overheard a couple of young girls telling their mothers that they wouldn’t be seen dead in our summer range of sports clothes.”’
‘I told you they were dire when they came in.’ Helen smiled at Jack as he squeezed her hand between his own. ‘Your range of ladies’ fashions isn’t too bad, apart from the underclothes, but the buyer hasn’t a clue when it comes to teenagers.’
‘So, will you consider my offer?’
‘I don’t have to. If you’re serious about updating the range, the answer’s yes,’ she qualified.
‘But I’ll not allow you to start in the warehouse until you are one hundred per cent recovered,’ John warned.
‘It wouldn’t hurt for me to take a look at the suppliers’ catalogues …’
‘When you’re well, not before.’ John kissed her forehead as he left the stool and pushed it back under her bed. ‘Now, if you two will excuse me I have to meet someone.’
‘Amazing how you always have to meet someone halfway through visiting,’ Helen commented.
‘I have a warehouse to run.’
‘From the White Rose.’
‘She’s better, Jack, she’s beginning to insult me again.’ John gave her another kiss before limping off up the ward.
‘He looks tired,’ Helen said, watching her father walk out.
‘We’ve had a tiring day.’ Jack lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘Was the funeral awful?’
‘Long.’
‘In one way I feel terrible, not being able to go, but in another I’m glad I didn’t have to sit in the house for hours with my mother and grandmother’s friends while you, Joe and my father were at the cemetery.’
‘The service in the church went on for ever.’ He closed his fingers round her wedding ring.
‘Did my mother talk to my father?’
‘Not that I saw.’
‘Funny, it hasn’t occurred to me until now, but he’s going to be lonely after the divorce.’
‘No more than he is now, or when your mother lived with you. She was never at home.’
‘But Joe and I were. And Joe will be leaving for Cardiff at the end of the summer. Do you think he’ll get married again?’
‘Your father?’ he asked, surprised by the thought.
‘Why not?’ she questioned. ‘He deserves to have someone nice to look after him, especially after being married to my mother.’
‘You want a stepmother.’
‘I want my father to be happy.’
‘You’ll only be downstairs …’
‘It would be crazy to pay my father rent for the flat when we own a house. I can’t wait to show it to you. You can see the sea from almost every room. Two minutes and you’re on the beach. There’s a huge living room, a big kitchen, four bedrooms, a garden. It’s absolutely perfect,’ she gushed enthusiastically. ‘I know you’re just going to love it.’
‘Before you have us moving in, your father thinks it’s been empty for a few years, in which case it may need some work doing to it.’
‘You don’t want to live in Limeslade?’
‘There’ll be plenty of time to look the house over and decide what to do about it after you’ve left here,’ he answered evasively.
‘I suppose so.’ She looked earnestly at him. ‘We won’t end up like my parents, will we, Jack? Quarrelling, divorcing …’
‘Not if I have any say in the matter.’
‘It’s just that … without children …’ She fell silent, as both of them were suddenly aware of the woman in the next bed listening in on their conversation.
‘You’ll be home on Friday. We’ll talk then,’ he whispered.
‘I can’t wait.’ She grabbed his hand with both of hers. ‘What is the flat looking like?’
‘Exactly as it did the last time you were in it.’
‘You haven’t been living there.’
‘I moved back in with Martin.’
‘Why? You would have been more comfortable in the flat. It has all our things. Everything you need, it’s our home …’
‘I was afraid I’d mess it up without you.’
‘Oh, Jack.’ The tears that had hovered perilously close to the surface ever since she had emerged from the anaesthetic to find she had lost their child began to fall again. Conscious of heads turning in their direction, he handed her his handkerchief. ‘I’m sorry. I promised myself before you came that I wouldn’t cry. And now look at me.’
‘I’d be howling like a baby if I had to spend a month in this place.’
‘Mr Clay.’ The ward sister appeared at the foot of Helen’s bed. ‘I see you’ve managed to upset your wife again.’
‘No, sister, it’s my fault …’ Helen began.
‘It’s best you leave, Mr Clay,’ the sister interrupted sternly.
‘No!’ Helen protested.
‘Mr Clay.’
‘Please, sister,’ Helen begged, her tears falling again despite her frantic efforts to control herself.
‘How about I just hold her hand and don’t say a word.’ Jack parried the sister’s glare.
‘Any more tears, Mrs Clay, and we’ll have to reconsider doctor’s decision to discharge you on Friday.’
Jack glowered at the sister until she moved away. He leaned forward under pretence of picking up a coin he’d deliberately dropped to the floor.
‘No one will be able to tell me to leave you after Friday, love, even if I have to break you out of here.’ The irony of his declaration struck home as he recalled the railway warrant he’d received that morning.
She smiled at him through her tears. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it again. ‘Love you,’ he mouthed silently.
‘Love you back.’ She blotted her tears as the bell rang.
Seeing the sister watching him, he left his chair. ‘See you on Friday. I’ll be here the moment they let you out.’
‘I’ll count the minutes,’ she murmured hollowly as he walked away.