A Class Apart (34 page)

She lay quietly, listening to the sounds from outside. A dog barking, someone hammering in the distance. Footsteps and the sounds of traffic. Traffic. Her eyes flew open as it all came flooding back. She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She had tried to kill herself. She had tried to take what she thought would be the only way out. Suicide. The most selfish act open to mankind. Suicide and blackmail. What had happened to her life? Where had it all gone wrong?

She sat up. Then she remembered the woman at the side of the road, and being led to a house. She looked across the room as the door opened. The same woman came in, and looked surprised to see her sitting up.

The woman smiled, and again Jenneen wondered who she was. She tried to think back. Where had she seen her before? But her mind was a blank.

“How are you feeling?”

Jenneen nodded and gave a weak smile. “OK, I think.”

“You’re very pale, maybe you should have gone to the hospital.”

“No, I’m all right, really.”

The woman came to stand beside the bed.

Jenneen looked into her face. “I feel as though I should know you.”

The woman laughed, it was a girlish laugh and she looked younger suddenly, almost teenaged, “We met at Robert Blackwell’s. My cousin introduced us. Paul, remember? I’m Victoria Deane.”

“Oh yes, of course,” said Jenneen. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t think.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Victoria. “Why don’t you lie down again and I’ll go and get you some tea. I’ve just made some.”

She left the room, and Jenneen stared at the door. She must get up. She couldn’t stay here any longer. Victoria had been very kind, but she was probably longing to be rid of her by now.

She climbed out of bed and looked around for her clothes. They were lying on the back of a chair, neatly folded. Quickly she slipped into them, and then she remembered that she should have been filming this afternoon. She must ring Bill. He would be furious. He had warned her only last week that questions were being asked, and she couldn’t keep letting them down. Soon the people at the top would want answers to those questions. Answers she could never give.

She found Victoria in the kitchen, pouring the tea.

“Could I ring for a taxi?” Jenneen asked.

Victoria turned to look at her, her face unsure. “I really don’t think you should go anywhere tonight,” she said. “At least not on your own. Is there anyone you can call?” Jenneen’s eyes fell and, sensing that she didn’t want anyone to know what had happened today, Victoria went on. “You’ve had quite a shock, you know. Why don’t you stay here . . .”

“But . . .”

“No, don’t argue, please. I’d like you to stay. Maybe we could have that chat we never got round to at Robert’s.”

She handed Jenneen a cup. Jenneen took it and smiled her thanks. She wanted to stay.

“In here.” Victoria pushed open the door to the sitting room.

“I really should ring my editor,” said Jenneen, sitting down on the settee. “I was supposed to be filming this afternoon.”

“It’s all right, I’ve already done it. And don’t worry, he was quite understanding, and told me to tell you not to worry, and he would ring you tomorrow.”

“You didn’t tell him . . .?”

Victoria shook her head. “No.”

“Thanks.” And then Jenneen groaned. “I’m really going to be in for it this time.”

“You can worry about that later,” said Victoria. “Now come on, drink your tea before it gets cold.”

They didn’t say anything for a while, Jenneen sipped her tea, and looked around the room. She was touched to see so many photographs of Paul. The two of them were obviously very close.

“Why?” said Victoria finally, and so softly Jenneen hardly heard.

“Why what?”

“Why were you going to do it?”

Jenneen felt her hand begin to shake, so she put her cup on the table beside her.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” said Jenneen. “Please don’t be sorry. You have every right to ask. After all, you saved my life, and I suppose I should be grateful.”

“Not grateful. Relieved. It’s no answer, you know.”

“Isn’t it? It would have solved so many things.”

“Not really,” said Victoria. “Nothing can be that bad.”

“Oh, it can, it can.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jenneen shook her head.

“It might help.”

“No, it won’t. It’s something I have to sort out for myself.”

“OK, but if you change your mind.”

“Thanks.”

Victoria got to her feet.

“I’ve made us something to eat, it should be ready about now. I hope you’re hungry.”

Jenneen got up too. “You really are being very kind.”

Victoria pulled a face.

Jenneen followed her out of the room. “Can I help?”

“No. You are to be pampered and spoiled this evening, and that’s an order. Now, you’re to go back in there and sit down, and I’ll call you when it’s dished up.”

Jenneen did as she was told and went back into the drawing room. It was quite a surprise to see Victoria in this role. When they had first met she had given Jenneen the impression of a dizzy blonde, who lived life just for fun. But this was another side of her, warm and caring, and Jenneen decided that she really did like her.

As they ate their meal they talked, and laughed, about so many things, but they never mentioned what had happened earlier, and Jenneen began to relax. It was so good to be away from home, comfortable, and in a place where she had nothing to fear.

Victoria told her all about her life, and Jenneen watched her face as she chattered on. It was a young face, full of energy for life, and Jenneen marvelled at the soft sound of her voice, which sometimes burst into a bubble of girlish delight.

She told Jenneen about the string of boutiques she owned, all over London. Boutiques where Jenneen had shopped many times. Vicky, as she told Jenneen she liked to be called, had been left a little money in her grandfather’s will, and with the help of her mother and father, they had made an extraordinary success of the business, far and away beyond anything they had ever imagined in the early days.

It was so good to listen. To hear about the life of someone who was happy, living in a straightforward and uncomplicated world. But Jenneen didn’t envy her, she only liked her the more for it.

Later they went to sit in the drawing room again, and Vicky opened a bottle of brandy.

When she looked back on this night in later weeks, Jenneen would smile, and still wonder how it had come about that she had poured out the whole story, the whole sordid story, to someone who was, in truth, no more than a stranger.

But Vicky listened, and never said a word. She watched Jenneen’s face, saw the pain and the confusion. Her heart went out to Jenneen as she heard about Mrs Green, and Matthew, and then Kate. Looking at her sitting there, so frail, and so innocent-looking, it was difficult to believe that the monstrous character of Mrs Green lurked somewhere beneath the surface. Or that someone would want to cause her such pain, as Matthew had. But Kate would come round, Vicky was sure of it.

Finally, when Jenneen was all talked out, she looked at Vicky sitting across the room in the shadows, and was sure she could feel her withdrawing. It was what she had expected. But when Vicky leaned forward to pour more brandy, Jenneen could see that she was smiling, a sad and compassionate smile.

“You shouldn’t be trying to bear this alone, Jenn,” she said.

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“You need help, maybe professional help.”

“No, I can’t.”

“But it is destroying your life. You need someone to talk to, Jenneen, someone who understands and can help you.”

Jenneen screwed up her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this.”

“But you should. You’ve been bottling it all up for too long. Do any of your friends know?”

“Good God, no,” said Jenneen, shuddering at the very idea.

“Look, honestly, it’s not as bad as you seem to think it is. OK, I know that’s easy for me to say, but it can be worked out, as long as you give someone a chance to help, even if it’s only a friend to begin with. And, if you feel as though you can’t talk to someone you know, then why not let me try? After all, I know most of it now anyway.”

Jenneen felt like crying. “But there’s nothing you can do,” she said. “You must see that. There’s nothing anyone can do.”

“Maybe not, unless you are prepared to help yourself.”

Jenneen’s breath caught in her throat.

“You do want to help yourself, don’t you?”

Jenneen looked down at her hands and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t know. Yes, I suppose so.”

“Well, you can always begin by trying, and I’ll help you if I can.”

Jenneen frowned, and looked across the room at her. “But why? I don’t understand. You hardly know me.”

Vicky smiled. “That doesn’t matter. There are times in all of our lives, when we need help. Times when we feel that there is no one to turn to, just when we need someone most I know what it’s like to feel like that. So confused, so terribly alone, that life doesn’t seem worth living any more. That even if there was someone there, they wouldn’t understand anyway. Everything seems hopeless, and without purpose, and you grope around in the dark, trying to find an end to it. Trying to find something that might give meaning to your life again, but there seems to be nothing there in the darkness, nothing but an empty space, with no sides, no ceiling and no bottom.”

Jenneen was watching her, and Vicky smiled to see the surprise on her face. She nodded. “Yes, Jenn, I’ve been there too. But then, at a time when I felt that there was never going to be anything, that there really was no hope any more, someone came into my life, and they cared. They helped me to accept myself for what I am, and to believe in myself, and to feel no shame. It was a long, and sometimes difficult journey, but never once did he waver in his affection or support. And now I know that to truly appreciate life, to truly believe in it, you have to accept and deal with whatever it puts your way. I am a richer person now, true to myself, and true to my life. It seems to be life’s way of forming you, as a person, as an individual. To deliver the hurt, and so much pain until you think you can take no more, and then, and only then, does life tum, and take you back again. And when you come back you understand so many things you never knew before. You can feel the pain of others, and the joy of others, and at last, at long last, you are complete, but somehow different. Many of us have to experience this, Jenneen, so many of us. And you can never question the hand of fate, or God, whatever you want to call it, because you will never find the answers. But in the end it is good that you have experienced all that you have, because in turn you can help others, when they too come to know what you have known. I suppose that is why I want to help you now.”

“And it doesn’t matter that you don’t know me?”

“Sometimes it’s easier that way,” Vicky answered. “Sometimes the people closest to you are the most difficult to reach, and the ones who, maybe, don’t know us at all.”

Jenneen shook her head, very slowly, and thought about what Vicky had said. “No,” she said, finally. “No, maybe you’re right, they don’t.”

On the other side of London, as her performance was about to begin, Ellamarie was frantically trying to get hold of Jenneen. She hadn’t heard from her in days and now she wasn’t only worried, she was afraid. Finally, when there was still no answer from Jenneen’s flat, Ellamarie had to run to make her entrance on time.

After the performance, when she returned to her dressing room, she could barely get through the door, there were so many flowers. And again, just like all the other times, there was no card.

Kate was sitting up in the hospital bed, alone in her private room. It had been almost three weeks since she had been brought back to the hospital and during that time she had had very little idea or understanding of anything that was going on around her. Vaguely she had been aware of tubes, one into her wrist and another into her nose, but she hadn’t known, or even cared, why they were there. A doctor came in to see her every day and she would watch his mouth and the crooked teeth behind his thin lips as he spoke to her, and his grey, solemn eyes as they blinked spasmodically. After a while Kate didn’t mind answering his questions, but at first she had minded – she had hated it.

And then one day the baby stopped crying, and from then it seemed that the worst might be over and the tubes had been taken away. Her father brought in a TV for her to watch. Her friends came, but Jenneen was never there. It had taken a while for Kate to remember, but when she did, she couldn’t bring herself to speak about Jenneen and what had happened between them.

She stared at the TV set but she wasn’t watching it. She would be going home tomorrow, and she was pleased. She really did feel stronger now. She didn’t think about the baby often, not any more. She had coaxed it to the back of her mind, where it must stay. She didn’t tell anyone, but there were times, only ever in the dead of night, when tiny screams would pull her from the hollow depths of nightmare. But that’s all it was, a nightmare. She knew that now, and knew that it would pass.

She stared down at the bed. The soft blue cover was wrinkled around her legs, and her hands were lying lifelessly across her body. Then she looked at the flowers, beautifully arranged, and placed about the room, sent in an effort to cheer her. And in a way they did. Most of them were from Ellamarie, she had plenty to spare these days. Kate smiled as she looked over at the latest bunch Ellamarie had brought in. Bob had been with her, and watching them together Kate had felt sad that she didn’t have Ellamarie’s inner strength. Ellamarie would never have got herself into this mess, and Kate knew that it would very likely be Ellamarie who would get her out of it.