Concentrating hard, Eddie gathered a ball of spit in his mouth.
‘Come along, Mister Renfrew, I’m sure we can do it if we try.’
Stupid Moo! Filled with loathing, he stared at the smiling face of the nurse. She treated him like a child. He couldn’t breathe, eat, or take a crap without her. He hated her, he hated his useless shell of a body and he hated Linda for never being at home when he wanted her.
‘Rest for a moment ... left foot forward like a good little soldier ... that’s right. My, we are being a good boy today.’
Does she have to say everything in that revolting singsong voice?
Upstairs, Justin started to cry. Bloody kid! He never stopped whining. Linda should be looking after him instead of gadding about all over the place. The whey-faced brat didn’t even know how to smile. He screamed blue murder whenever his nanny brought him down to visit him.
Tears slid from under his eyelids. Where was Linda? She was hardly ever home any more and it wasn’t fair, leaving him here all alone. She wasn’t much better than Pamela.
Anger burned bright in him. He’d never imagined Pamela would find the guts to leave him. When he was better he’d go after her. He’d soon teach the ungrateful bitch what was what!
‘Right foot now. Try not to drag it, Mister Renfrew ... wonderful ... oops-a-daisy!’
His face lodged between the pillows of her breasts as she caught him. He caught a whiff of body odor and pink carbolic soap. She was disgusting!
‘Naughty, naughty!’ she said archly as she pushed him upright. ‘You men are all alike.’
He rolled the ball of spit on his tongue and let it fly. It had no momentum and trickled down his chin. He let out a frustrated cry as she carried him back to his chair and applied a tissue to his chin.
‘There, there, Mister Renfrew, don’t let’s get upset, you did very well today and the doctor will be pleased. I’ll sit you on the lavatory for a while. You can do your duty whilst I have a little break. We don’t want any accidents, do we?’
Eddie did. He hoped she’d fall down the stairs and break her neck
She didn’t even allow him any privacy by shutting the door! He was sitting there, trousers round his ankles, when a movement caught his eye.
There was a girl standing in the passage outside, just gazing out of the window at the sea with her back towards him. She was wearing some sort of uniform ... a school uniform. She reminded him of Margaret, and he paled.
‘Linda?’ It had to be Linda, playing a trick on him,
The figure turned towards him and he tasted her ashes in his mouth. Her smile was full of sorrow. He blinked and she was gone, leaving him shaken.
It was his illness. He’d imagined Margaret standing there, accusing him with her eyes.
He saw her again the next day. This time she spoke to him. ‘Repent your sin.’
His voice came out quite clearly. ‘Never ... the sins of the parents are visited on the child. You all had to be punished.’
The nurse smiled broadly as her head came between him and Margaret.
‘Well done, hardly any slurring. Now, tell me, who were you talking to? Has my naughty little man got an imaginary friend?’
Eddie wanted to cry. He hardly ever got visitors. She had no right to interrupt his conversation. Margaret needed to be shown the error of her ways, and then God would repent and take her into his fold.
He stared at her, his eyes full of cunning, then with all the venom he could muster, whispered. ‘Piss off!’
She recoiled for a second, her smile forced, her eyes mean brown marbles. ‘My, we are in a bad mood today. Perhaps a sedative might improve our disposition.’
Damn her! The sedative made him feel like shit, and she knew it. He watched her pour a colorless liquid into a glass, hating her.
He pursed his lips, and this time, his ball of spit reached its mark.
‘You dirty old sod.’
He clamped his mouth shut as she held the glass against it. Her finger and thumb took a grip on his nose, shutting off the air. After a few seconds his mouth fell open and the liquid trickled sweetly across his tongue and down his throat.
‘There,’ she said, wiping the spit from her face. ‘That should keep you quiet for a while.’ Her buttocks jerked self-righteously up and down as she marched from the room.
Someone gave a soft giggle. Margaret – he could see her from the corner of his eye. He smiled at her.
* * * *
Sarah handed Linda a diamond necklace. ‘Do this up, there’s a dear.’
Linda gasped as the stones caught the light. She’d never seen anything quite so beautiful. ‘Did Lord Conley give you this?’
‘No. It was a gift from an admirer.’ Sarah’s eyes were faintly malicious as she gazed at the girl’s avid face in the mirror. ‘Try it on if you like.’
It looked good against the younger woman’s firm skin. Renfrew’s daughter had turned out to be quite pretty. Money would furnish her with style. ‘It’s a pity you married Martin. You must hate being short of cash all the time.’
A sulky pout came to Linda’s mouth and she flushed. ‘If my father hadn’t become ill ... besides, I love Martin.’
It sounded as if Linda was trying to convince herself. Sarah wondered what she’d do when she discovered that Martin and Noel Chatterton had become lovers?
A gleam of amusement came into her eyes. It might be fun to turn this silly little daughter of Renfrew’s into a whore.
Edward had been so precious about her, she mused, and although she’d paid him back satisfactorily for his disloyalty, it still rankled. How would he feel if he received compromising photographs of his precious daughter through the post?
‘Come to the opera with us tonight dear. I’m sure Martin won’t mind me borrowing you for one evening.’
‘He’s having Noel Chatterton over to play cards,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I was going to see The Graduate, but I’d rather go out with you.’ Her face fell. ‘I haven’t anything suitable to wear to the opera.’
‘The wardrobe’s full of clothes, and we look exactly the same size.’ Strolling to the wardrobe, she selected a pale lilac evening gown she’d been photographed in several times. ‘Wear this. You may have it if you like.’
‘It’s lovely,’ Linda gushed. ‘Thank you so much.’
Sarah watched her undress. Her figure was petite and perfect, but her cotton bra and panties were sensible working class.
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. ‘I really must take you in hand. Strip everything off, then go and shower off that cheap perfume. We can’t have you ruining the line of the dress with dreadful underwear like that. A woman must dress from the skin up if she’s to feel good about herself. It gives her poise.’
Her eyes began to gleam as Linda self-consciously stepped out of her panties. ‘We ought to do something about that bush of yours. It’s so prolific. Heloise, see to Mrs. Pitt’s grooming.’
‘Oui, Madame.’
So Linda was waxed, powdered and pampered, and her hair was styled in a smooth chignon by Sarah’s new French maid. Linda loved the feel of the expensive clothes against her skin, and she adored the cool amethyst necklace Sarah lent her.
‘You know, you’re quite exquisite when you’re dressed properly. You really should have a male escort. Shall I ring a friend of mine and ask him to join us. He’s a charming companion, and very generous. It was he who gave me the diamond necklace.
Linda’s eyes widened.
Yes Linda, she did have to earn it, but it was a delightful experience as Linda had yet to find out.
Two hours later, and acting on Sarah’s instructions, Lord Conley’s Daimler drew to halt outside the Pitts’ rented apartment in Chelsea.
‘Run and tell Martin we’re going on to a party, there’s a good girl.’ Sarah drawled. ‘We don’t want him to worry about you being late home.’
How strange, Linda thought when she let herself back inside, there’s nobody in the lounge. And where’s Noel? His car’s outside.
Martin’s laugh came to her from the bedroom.
‘Martin?’ she said, pushing open the door. She gasped as two shocked faces turned towards her. Both men were in the position of what could be loosely termed as lovemaking. Her husband was dressed in a black negligee she’d never seen before. Taken aback, she muttered. ‘I’m ... sorry. I didn’t realize.’
She wasn’t as shocked as she should have been, nor as upset as she ought to have been. In fact, she felt like laughing, because Martin looked like a schoolboy who’d just been caught playing with himself by the headmaster.
Of course, she’d heard of these practices between men, and they had moved into more sophisticated circles, so she mustn’t let it throw her. That would be too passé.
‘I came to tell you I doubt if I’ll be home tonight.’
‘Yes ... Sarah phoned me earlier.’
‘She must have forgotten she had.’ How ridiculous a conversation to have with a husband in such a situation. She thought of the man waiting downstairs in the car with Sarah. He was wealthy, and quite handsome if one didn’t mind older men. His manners were charming too. ‘In fact, I’m sure I won’t be home. Have a lovely evening.’
She withdrew, leaving them frozen in position. Slightly stunned, she rejoined her hostess downstairs.
‘Is everything all right, dear,’ Sarah cooed. ‘You look pale.’
Linda eyed the diamonds glittering at Sarah’s throat, then at the man standing on the pavement, waiting to help her into the car.
She smiled at him and a bubble of excitement churned in her stomach as she took his hand. A diamond set in gold winked discreetly on his little finger as he stroked the inside of her wrist.
‘Everything’s perfect,’ she said.
* * * *
Early in September Charles Wyman negotiated the purchase of the Brown’s former home on Janey’s behalf. Not wanting another confrontation with Devlin, she kept the purchase to herself,
She rang Hackney hospital and asked Griff if he’d witness her signature on the papers.
‘I’m just about to go into theatre,’ he said. ‘I should be through by lunchtime. I’ll meet you in the canteen, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay long. He gave her instructions on how to get there.’
She was there at twelve, feeling out of place amongst the chattering nurses, orderlies and office staff. Twenty minutes later, Griff came hurrying in. He looked very much the professional in his white coat, his stethoscope slung casually around his neck.
He didn’t seem to notice the glances he drew from the women as he joined the queue and piled his tray up with sandwiches, fruit and a pot of tea.
He nodded to a couple of people as his eyes scanned the room, then his glance connected with hers. Breath held, she waited for his serious Griffin face to be transformed by the smile she loved so much. She experienced a rush of pleasure when it did. He added an extra cup and a couple of doughnuts to the tray.
It seemed as though a thousand pairs of eyes turned to look at her as he headed her way.
‘You found it, then?’ Leaning over the table he kissed her on the cheek, then asked to see the papers. Swiftly, he witnessed her signature, and then folded the documents back into the envelope. ‘So ... you’re investing in property. Nice choice, I always liked that property.’
‘It’s not really an investment, it’s going to be my home?’
His eyes were dark and searching against hers. ‘Does Devlin know?’
Guilt niggled at her when she shook her head.
Griff’s hand covered hers. ‘Shouldn’t you tell him?’
‘I can’t. He’d only try and talk me out of it, and then we’d have a big argument. I’ll tell him when it’s all settled.’
His hand slid away to peel the wrap from his sandwiches. ‘I never thought you had it in you to treat him like that.’
He sounded so disappointed with her that she couldn’t help but stare at him in puzzlement. Did he think ...? He did think!
A grin spread across her face. ‘How long have you imagined Dev and I were an item?’ she teased. ‘Really, Griff, you of all people’
His hands stilled their movement as he met her eyes. ‘Aren’t you?’
‘Has he ever indicated otherwise?’
‘No, but I assumed?’
‘You assumed wrong. Dev and I are friends. There never has been, or ever will be, anything between us.’
Griff’s lips twitched into a wry grin. ‘That won’t stop him hoping.’
‘I know.’ Their eyes met in complete understanding. ‘Dev has been good to me but I’m messing up his life, Griff. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have to.’
‘When will you move back to Winterbrook?’
‘As soon as I’ve finished the series of paintings I’m working on. Before Christmas, I hope. I can stay with my father until I furnish the place.’ A smile touched Griff’s lips. ‘I’m glad you’ve come to terms with your father. Have you had any more ill effects from the LSD?’
‘There have been one or two minor episodes. I can handle them.’
‘If you ever need me, you know where I am.’
She would have asked Griff’s advice about her father, then, but he was paged over a loudspeaker. His smile was rueful as he rose to his feet. ‘No rest for the wicked, I’m afraid.’ He kissed her again, very gently and lingeringly on the mouth. ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. Enjoy my lunch for me.’
Watching him walk away with long unhurried strides, Janey felt so proud of him she felt like bursting. She wished Phil could see his son in this environment. He looked so sure of himself, so confident. Griff had always known the path his life would take, and had never once deviated from it.
She followed shortly afterwards, made self-conscious by the speculative glances that were aimed in her direction. She wondered if Griff had kissed her publicly in an effort to stop some of the female employees making sheep’s eyes at him. He couldn’t work in such a big hospital and be totally unaware of the attention.
She lingered on the way home, walking through Hyde Park and enjoying the balmy weather. There were people everywhere, clad in summery clothes. But the leaves were turning, and the heat had left the sun. Soon the mists would creep from the river to blot out the light, the trees would be bare, and the earth would lie dormant once again.
There was music playing. A group of bare-footed hippies lolled on the grass. Flower-power people entwined in an untidy heap. The smell of pot drifted to her nostrils as she walked past.
‘Make love, not war,’ one of them chanted. Easy to say when he’d never be involved in Vietnam.
Dear Mrs. Jones, it is with great pride that we write to tell you your son has been drafted to serve his country.
She was glad Drifter hadn’t gone to Vietnam, hadn’t been forced to kill somebody’s mother, somebody’s father, somebody’s precious child –a child like Saffy, only sloe-eyed and dark haired.
Dear Mrs. Jones, we regret to inform you ...’
Peace-through-love? Janey shivered. The hippie philosophy didn’t stand a chance against the will of governments. Democracy was just a myth.
When she got home she wrote to Tim telling him she’d bought his childhood home. She hoped he’d never have to become involved in a war. She tossed up whether to ring Mary and Douglas, but decided against it. Mary would only invite her down, and she couldn’t spare the time.
Still haunted by her melancholy mood she started work, and was soon absorbed in it.
* * * *
September merged into October. Leaves turned from yellow to orange, then brown, littering the gutters until they were sucked into the hungry jaws of the road-sweepers. Grass became pocked with boggy black rain patches. She ran out of autumn colors.
November brought fireworks and wet clinging mist that intruded into the nostrils and throat. Foghorns honked like dying swans, chimney’s smoked, faces turned pale, cold-pinched and miserable. She ran out of winter colors, and rejoiced.
The woman in the ferryboat gazed enigmatically out at her from the canvas. Pale tendrils of her hair snaked around a boy child on the shore.
Janie felt emptied out, as if someone had turned on a tap and allowed her essence to flow from her body. Sinking into a chair she stared at the painting until there was no light left. Mistral’s hair glowed even in the dusk. It was the best painting she’d ever done. She threw a cloth over it.
After a while, she went downstairs.
‘I’ve finished, Devlin.’
‘Finished?’ he said stupidly. ‘How can you be finished when there’s a waiting list for Mistral paintings after the American exhibition.’
‘Mistral’s dead. I’ve run out of paint.’ Her smile was triumphant, her voice adamant.
‘Run out of paint.’ Devlin laughed. ‘What do you need? I’ll get you some.’
‘I don’t need any. I’ve given up painting.’
His eyes were as uncertain as the smile that came and went across his mouth, his eyes had taken on an edgy gleam. ‘Either you’re joking, or you’re sickening for something.’
‘Neither.’ She stretched her aching muscles. ‘You’re the businessman. Mistral must have made us both a fortune by now. You never did give me that detailed statement you promised.’
‘I forgot.’ He came to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his. She was making a stand. Okay – she was entitled to. ‘Is this what this farce is all about, Janey. You’re mad at me, yes?’
She felt her heart begin to break. ‘I’m not mad at you, Dev, I’m tired in body and spirit. I’ve bought myself a house in the country and I’m going to raise my child there.’
Nothing he could say would make her change her mind. He was furious, and made an ass of himself by ranting. She dissolved into tears, making him feel guilty – but she wouldn’t be swayed.
He pleaded with her. He promised her the earth, the stars and the moon – all the planets of the universe rolled into one. Still, she cried, long shuddering sobs that cracked him up.
He steeled himself against them. She’d never painted so well, now she was going to trash the gift she’d been born with. Well, damn her! He wouldn’t let her waste her talent. He’d changed her mind twice. He’d do it again.
‘Be reasonable. If you don’t work, you won’t have enough income to pay the damned mortgage,’ he told her.
Her sobs became a watery, mutinous voice. She was fighting him with every weapon she had. ‘I haven’t got a mortgage. I bought it with a legacy.’
He was affronted. ‘You bought a house without telling me!’
‘Don’t do this to me, Devlin?’ she said softly. ‘Don’t make me hurt you.’
‘Hurt me - what the hell does that mean?’ He resorted to blackmail. ‘I made you, Janey. I gave you my friendship, my home to live in. I looked after you and Saffy. Damn it! You owe me something.’
She hit him squarely below the belt. ‘I only owe you your commission, and room and board.’
‘How can you throw that at me?’ he shouted, feeling mortally wounded. ‘You’re my guest. I love looking after you. I haven’t taken a penny from you in commission. I’d do anything for you – anything!’
‘Then let me go.’ She turned and walked away from him.
He followed after her up the stairs, desperate, knowing he’d lost. ‘Where are you going? We haven’t finished this conversation.’
Her voice was choked with tears when she spoke. ‘I have something for you.’
The abstract she’d taken so long to paint?
It was executed perfectly in shades of blue, grey and silver. Mirrored shards converged like a web to capture a bubble. There was a naked figure curled inside, a woman with long silver hair winding around her body and binding her wrists and ankles. Her eyes were closed tight and the whole was reflected in the shards of glass, coming from different angles.
‘Oh, my God!’ He stared at it, unbelieving. It was brilliant – and it made him despise himself.’
‘You’ve got to let me go before we destroy each other. I’m suffocating.’
He should have listened to her before. He shouldn’t have forced her to prove herself the stronger. He felt like a middle-aged man as he walked towards the door, his heart as fragmented as the mirror shards in the painting. ‘I’ll move into a hotel until you sort yourself out.’
‘Please don’t go.’ She threw her arms around his body, keeping her to him, begging him to stay. ‘I don’t want us to be enemies, Devlin.’
‘Damn you, Janey.’ Extricating himself from her grip he glared at her. ‘Can’t you leave a man any pride?’
‘Don’t go. I need to know you forgive me.’
There were tears in her eyes. Paint streaked one cheek, a slash of purple. She smelled of turpentine and linseed oil. Her hair was a straggly mess where she’d drawn it into an elastic band. Bits stuck out all over the place.
It was agony, loving her, but he knew he’d stay with her until the bitter end – to the day she walked out of his life.
He’d forgive her for doing this to him, but he wondered ...