The next morning, Rosalind went to the shops, partly to avoid Paul and partly because they needed some fresh fruit and vegetables. She was walking down an aisle in her favourite supermarket when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up, saw Liz – and froze.
‘Rosalind, could we talk?’
‘No. There aren’t any words which can possibly heal the way you’ve hurt me, Liz.’
Her ex-friend paused, tears starting to trickle down her cheeks. ‘Please!’
‘No. I wish you well, I really do. And I hope the child brings you joy. Is Bill going to accept it?’
Liz nodded, her eyes welling with tears.
‘Good. I’ll say goodbye, then.’
There was uncertainty in Liz’s face now. ‘You seem – different.’
‘Well, a lot has happened to me lately, hasn’t it? My whole life has changed.’ And was still changing.
‘I’m sorry about Tim.’
‘Yes.’ Determinedly, she pushed Liz’s trolley aside. ‘Goodbye.’ And walked away, her back straight. She could never forgive Liz for what she’d done. Not in a million years. And the encounter had made her realise that she couldn’t forgive Paul, either. Just – could – not.
She cut short the shopping trip, feeling uncomfortable among the cheerful crowds.
When she got home, she saw a strange car outside the house with a sticker on its side saying DOOLIFFE & JONES – REAL ESTATE. She frowned as she drove into the garage. What was that doing here? Real estate salesmen didn’t usually call in person unless invited. Usually they pushed leaflets through your letter box. Dozens of leaflets every year. Such a waste.
When she went inside, Paul was sitting talking to a woman. She was blonde and ultra-smart, and there were papers – forms, they looked like – spread out all over the table.
She hated that table, Rosalind decided suddenly, hated its nasty, chilly surface that took all the warmth out of people whose reflections were trapped in it.
Paul stood up. ‘Ros! I didn’t expect you back so soon.’
She looked from one to the other. ‘Obviously.’
He turned to the woman. ‘Please excuse me a minute.’ Then he put his arm round Rosalind’s shoulders and led her through into the kitchen. ‘I was just getting a couple of valuations. I wouldn’t have done anything without consulting you. But you need to think ahead when you’re selling houses and—’
‘You should have spoken to me first. I haven’t decided anything yet.’
‘I’ll – um – ask her to leave.’
‘Do that.’
When he’d left, she buried her face in her hands. He was walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around her, but it wasn’t working. It wouldn’t work, either, whatever he did. The decision she’d been pushing to the back of her mind because it terrified her surfaced suddenly, complete with answer.
They’d both changed too much. It was too late to mend their marriage.
Worst of all, she didn’t want to mend their marriage. A vision of Jonathon floated in front of her and she smiled involuntarily. She wanted to be with him, needed a gentler man than Paul at this season of her life. It all seemed so much clearer now she was home. No, not home. This wasn’t her home any longer and never would be again.
But back in Australia she knew where she stood, somehow.
When Paul came into the kitchen, he was rubbing his hands together, looking bright and cheerful. ‘You’re right, Ros – Rosalind. It’s too soon to put the house on the market. We’ll look into all that together, once we’ve settled in.’
As far as she was concerned, his cheerful confidence was the last straw.
He didn’t speak, just sat down and smiled. Confidently. He was humouring her. He’d soon be playing games with her, as soon as he felt it was safe to move on.
‘Was I intended to find out yet about selling the house, Paul?’
‘I wasn’t selling it, just getting it valued. I told you.’
He came and put an arm round her, planting a kiss on her cheek. Impatiently she shook him off.
He looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Something else wrong?’
‘Many things. You know that.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ros, don’t make such a meal of it. We’ve agreed to work things out, but we won’t be able to do that if you keep taking a huff at the slightest thing. I can’t change completely overnight.’
He moved towards the coffee plunger. ‘There’s something else we need to discuss. I didn’t want to bother you yet – wanted to give you more time to get over things.’
‘How kind!’
‘But maybe we should lay all the cards on the table. No, you go and sit down. I’ll deal with this. It’s nice to be among our own possessions again, isn’t it?’
‘How would you know? You’ve spent very little time here. I’m amazed you could even find your way home from the airport.’
He clapped one hand to his chest, as if wounded. ‘Sharp, Ros, bit too sharp, don’t you think?’
‘Rosalind.’ She had decided to correct him every time he shortened her name. It might be petty, but it satisfied something inside her.
He rolled his eyes at the ceiling and said nothing.
When he came over to the table with a steaming mug, she shoved the bags of shopping piled there aside, her mind on her problems. One fell onto the floor and glass tinkled as something had broken.
She shrugged and took the cup, holding it in her hands as she waited for him to explain the ‘something else’. And when he didn’t, she didn’t speak, either. She used his own tactic and waited him out this time. Enjoyed doing it, too.
In the end he sighed and said, ‘The thing is, I’ve been offered a promotion.’
‘So? What difference will that make to the house? Why do we need to sell it? You surely don’t want somewhere bigger?’
‘We need to sell it because the new job is in the old US of A. We’ll need to live there, all of us. We’ll probably have to take out American citizenship eventually. The chairman doesn’t think there’ll be much problem about that, not if the company sponsors me. It’s good news, isn’t it? I’m on the chairman’s senior team now. Can’t get much higher than that.’
‘Have you accepted the promotion already, then?’
‘Of course I have. On the spot. You don’t turn down an offer like that.’
‘Without asking me.’ She said it as a statement, not a question. He hadn’t asked her when he became the chairman’s international rover, either.
‘I was going to tell you after—’
‘Tell me – not ask my opinion, let alone listen to my views.’ She stared at him, feeling in control, for once.
He frowned. ‘You wouldn’t understand my career needs, hon. You’ll have to trust me for that. And anyway, I thought you’d be glad to make a fresh start. On all counts.’
‘In the USA.’ She looked round slowly, making him wait, then said quietly, ‘The answer is no.’ She didn’t need to shout any more. The last of her emotional shackles had just fallen off.
‘Ros, you can’t—’
‘Rosalind.’
‘Stop doing that, dammit. I’ll get used to it. No need to pick me up on it every time.’ He picked up his mug of coffee.
‘I saw Liz at the shops.’ She saw the mug jerk away from his lips and coffee splash onto his hand. ‘The baby doesn’t show yet, but she has a softer look on her face. She wanted to talk. I refused.’
‘Bit harsh of you. After all, none of us is perfect.’
‘No. And I’m not setting myself up as perfect. Far from it. I’m just not able to consider her a friend any more.’
‘Your choice. But think about this: Jenny’s left the nest for good, your mother’s getting married again, your best friend is lost to you. It seems to me a most appropriate time to make a move. Another change of season, eh? A big one, this time.’
She smiled at him, feeling sadness at this finale to a relationship that had started with so much hope. The biggest and most important of all the recent changes were inside her, and he hadn’t really noticed them. She’d gained a tiny bit of wisdom, she hoped – and some courage, too. ‘It is time for us to move on, Paul. You’re right about that.’
He gave his snarling tiger’s smile of triumph. ‘So you’ll come to the USA with me, make a fresh start?’
Upstairs on the landing Louise clenched her fists, fighting not to burst into tears.
Rosalind let the silence drag on for a minute or two, till the smile on his face faded a little and puzzlement crept in. ‘No, Paul. I won’t be coming to the USA. I’m definitely leaving you. I’m going back to England to live in my aunt’s house for a while and think about my options.’
Suddenly his expression was ugly. ‘Oh, now that you have the money, you’ve suddenly got options, have you? I suppose you stayed with me before because I was the best option at the time – with the most money to offer you.’
She shrank away from him, he looked so vicious. Then she got angry with herself for reacting like that and sat up straighter, staring right back at him across the kitchen table. ‘Actually, my favourite option has nothing to do with money. I met a man while I was over there, you see, Paul. A very kind man. We get on really well and—’
Upstairs Louise was weeping helplessly, relief turning her into a jelly. Oh, thank you, she kept murmuring. Thank you, thank you, God, or fate, or whatever you are up there. She’s going to escape.
And so am I.
Paul’s mouth dropped open, then he made a quick recovery, thumping the table with the edge of his clenched fist. ‘So you’ve been unfaithful to me, you bitch! And there you were going on at me, treating me like a pariah.’
‘No, I haven’t been unfaithful. Not physically, anyway, which is the only thing you’d understand. I wouldn’t do that while we were still married.’
‘Who is it? Do I know him?’ He snapped his fingers suddenly. ‘Not that thin streak of nothing. That blue-blooded waffly creature with the bossy sister?’
‘Yes.’ A smile suddenly overtook Rosalind at this description of Harry and she felt warm inside, absolutely right about what she was doing. ‘Yes. It’s Jonathon.’
Paul thumped the table again and one of the coffee cups fell off it, shattering, scattering brown liquid on the grey and white tiled floor. Neither of them bothered to pick it up.
When the silence continued, Paul swiped at one of the carrier bags of food that was still sitting on the table, knocking that down on top of the coffee. ‘Rich is he, your precious Jonathon? Richer than me? As well as better connected? You’re more cunning than I’d realised, Ros. Made very sure of your options, didn’t you, before you decided to leave me?’
She tried to explain, knowing it would be useless, but at least she tried. ‘Jonathon’s quite poor actually. That house of his is a sort of trust. No one can dispose of it, just guard it for future generations.’ She would be proud to help with that if he’d let her, though she wanted to spend time in Australia, too, didn’t think she could abandon her country entirely.
‘So he’s after your money, then.’
She smiled, very certain of that. ‘No, he isn’t.’
‘He is, you know.’
‘Is that the only attraction I can offer him? I think not. Anyway I’m not going to live with him at first. I’m going back to live in Aunt Sophie’s house.’ She waved one hand around her. ‘To make things easy, I’ll agree to sell this place as soon as you like and split our possessions down the middle. I’ve never really liked the house. It’s a cold and heartless. You chose it, not me.’
He folded his arms. ‘Our younger daughter is staying with me, then.’
‘No, I’m not.’ Louise came into the room, trying to look calm, but actually feeling a bit shivery inside. He was looking so black, like a thunderstorm about to crash down on them. She’d crept downstairs in case her mother needed help, but she wasn’t having them decide about her future without her being involved.
Rosalind stood up and Paul followed suit, moving to stand between her and her daughter.
Louise ducked away from him and darted across to join her mother.
‘I doubt you’ll get custody – even if you’re foolish enough to try,’ Rosalind said thoughtfully. ‘I believe children get a say in such things these days as long as they’re old enough to understand what’s happening, which Louise clearly is. And anyway, she’ll be eighteen in another month or so. You couldn’t even get the case to court before her birthday.’
‘I want to come with you,’ Louise said. ‘You will let me, won’t you, Mum?’
Paul made an inarticulate noise and grabbed her. ‘You’re staying with me from now on.’
When she struggled against him, kicking him in the shins, he slapped her face.
Rosalind moved to stand between them. ‘Stop this, Paul.’
When he raised his hand a second time, she reacted automatically, moving quickly, as her instructor had once taught her, and taking him by surprise. She kneed Paul hard in the groin before jabbing the side of her hand into his neck. Then she watched with intense satisfaction as he folded up with a quiet ‘Oof!’ and rolled about on the floor, agony written all over him, unable to breathe properly.
‘I went to self-defence classes one year, Paul. Don’t you remember? I was worried because you were away so much and I got nervous going out at night on my own. I’ve always wondered if I’d have the guts to use the techniques. Now I know.’
‘Ros—’ His voice was still half-choked and he was rocking about, his hands splayed protectively around his genitals.
‘My name is Rosalind,’ she said firmly, ‘and I think we’ve said everything there is to say. If you’ll move out of this house, I’ll get it ready to sell. I can make a big difference to the price if I have things looking really nice – or if you won’t move out, we can lose a lot of money. That’s up to you.’
He glared at her as he tried to straighten up and couldn’t.
She put an arm round her daughter’s shoulders. ‘Come on, love, let’s go and tell my mother our news. Later today, when your father has moved out, we’ll come back and start getting the place ready to sell.’ She looked back at Paul, who had dragged himself to a chair, but was still clutching his crotch and looking shocked as well as winded.
‘I’m sorry it’s ended like this. But there’s no hope of my staying with you, whether Jonathon and I work something out or not. You see, you don’t seem to have learnt anything from what’s been happening. Didn’t you see how alone you were in my family portrait? No one was standing near you, not even your wife.’
‘What the hell has that embroidery to do with this?’
‘Everything. It mirrors life, our life.’
But he didn’t understand that. She’d take the family portrait with her when she went to her mother’s, though, just for safety. What a good thing most of her embroideries were still in England.
‘I’ll fight you – for everything,’ he rasped. ‘I’ve earned – the money that paid – for all this.’
‘But I raised your children and played my part in the marriage. I believe the courts always take that into account.’ She had seen a few of her friends’ marriages break up over the years and knew the ropes. Had never expected to walk down the same path herself, but now found the prospect inviting. Very.
‘You didn’t do a very good job with the children!’ he snarled. ‘Tim was a total failure. I blame you for that.’
Pain shafted through her again, as it did every time she thought of her son. ‘I blame myself, too, and I always shall, but I think I’ve time to make a difference with Louise.’ She looked at her daughter, who was smiling proudly at her, not even looking at her father. ‘I don’t want to force you into anything, though, Lou.’ She used the pet name Tim had sometimes called his sister by.
‘I want to come with you, Mum. I need you.’
‘I’m glad. Will you nip up and fetch my suitcase? And yours. Just in case your father doesn’t move out.’
Louise ran off.
Paul found the breath suddenly to yell, ‘Well, who wants an old-fashioned lump like you for a wife. I’ll find myself a new one who’s twice as smart – in every way!’
‘I hope you do. And she’ll ditch you as soon as you lose your edge. You’ll deserve each other.’ Then she turned her back and began walking out.
After Rosalind pulled the front door closed behind her, however, she clutched her daughter’s arm and took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Get me to the car, Lou. I feel sick.’
‘Hold on to me, Mum. Don’t let him see that you’re chucking a wobbly.’
They walked out together, arms linked, each carrying a suitcase.
‘You’ll have to drive. I’m shaking.’ Rosalind slid into the front passenger seat. She sat up very straight until they’d turned the corner, then slumped down and began to weep noisily.
When Louise stopped the car and tried to cuddle her, she held on to her daughter for a few moments, then blinked away the tears. ‘Changes as big as this hurt like hell,’ she said huskily. ‘But it’s done now – well, the decision is taken, anyway.’
‘You – won’t change your mind? About leaving him, I mean?’
‘Oh, no. That is quite definite, whatever else happens. Only I had to come here to – to close things off. How do you think you’ll like living in England?’
Louise started up the engine again. ‘I don’t know. But it’ll be better than living with him. I still want to train as a nurse. I dare say I can do it there just as well as here.’
‘I think you’ll make a good nurse. I’ll help you all I can.’
‘Thanks, Mum. But until I can start training, I’ll be getting a job. I’m going to stand on my own feet from now on.’
‘I’m glad. It’s what I want for you – and for myself.’
As they drove away, Rosalind not only felt closer to her daughter but at peace beneath the sadness. If it didn’t work out with Jonathon, she’d still be better off without Paul. And she had her embroidery. George Didburin was very enthusiastic about her future as an artist. She meant to work very hard, really make something of herself. It was about time.
She sat up straighter. She’d begin another piece soon. A woman – on her own, head up, wind blowing. Herself. But not in pastel colours. That was what was wrong with the family portrait. Her own figure. She was such a faded creature in it. She would do another half-figure of herself in brighter colours and place the two Rosalinds back to back, as she’d once told Tim, almost like Siamese twins.
Then, and only then, when she’d seen herself as she had become, would she be finished with the past and ready to step forward into the future. Whatever that might be.