A Class Apart (41 page)

“Your way you mean.”

She laughed. “OK, my way.”

“I thought you two didn’t get along?”

“We don’t. He is arrogant, conceited, despicable, chauvinistic, and downright bad-mannered, but I shall try my best to overcome his annoying little habits.”

Julian chuckled. “I wouldn’t let him hear you say that if I were you.”

“Perhaps not. But I’m right for the job, Julian, you know I am. If you are with me, you know that Conrad can be persuaded round.”

“I don’t want to persuade him round.”

“I thought we’d settled all that.”

He sighed.

“So will you do it for me?”

He looked at her, and couldn’t help but admire her strength. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, if that’s what you want, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” she said, and put her arms round him. “Would you like some coffee now?”

“Sure.”

When Ashley came back in with the coffee, his mind flashed back to the night, so long ago now, when once before she had brought coffee into this room. That had been the night he had walked out of her life. He had rejected the love she had offered him, the life she had wanted to share with him, and without a backward glance he had walked away from her. And now once again they were sharing coffee. The difference this time was that now she was going to walk out of his life.

What a mistake he had made, all those months ago. What a fool he had been. But it was too late now. Decisions were so hard sometimes, and you never knew, until maybe a long time after, whether or not they were the right ones. And what did you do if they were the wrong ones? Well, you just did what he was doing now, he supposed, accept the consequences.

They talked a little over their coffee, but she could see that he was eager to go. She walked with him to the door, and as she opened it, he took her in his arms.

“I will always love you, Ash. I’m going to miss you.” He let her go and started to walk away.

“Julian.”

He turned back.

“Will you marry Blanche?”

He looked at her for a long time, his face inscrutable. Then finally he nodded his head, very slightly, and turned away.

Ashley smiled sadly to herself as she closed the door. What strange twists there sometimes are in life, she thought.

And now it only remained for her to tell Keith.

“Ashley, I’m begging you not to do it. Please!”

“Keith, I have to do it. I have to get away, I feel as though I’m being stifled here.”

“I’ll give you some room. I won’t see you, only at weekends, I’ll do anything, but please say you won’t go.”

She tried to pull away. “Keith, you’re only making it worse for yourself, behaving like this. I’ve told you, I’ve made up my mind, now please let me go.”

“I can’t. I can’t let you go again, Ashley. Don’t you see that? I don’t want to live without you. You’re everything to me. I love you, I
love
you.”

“And in my way I love you too. But it’s not enough. I want more, I need more.”

“Then tell me what you need. Just tell me. Give me a chance, Ashley. Please! I’m begging you.”

“Don’t, Keith. Don’t beg me.”

“Then what can I do to make you stay?”

“Nothing. I’m going, I’ve made up my mind.”

“But what about the people you are leaving behind? Your mother, your father, Alex. What about Alex? Don’t you care anything for your own son?”

“You know I do,” she said. “I care about him more than anyone else. But try to understand, Keith, I have to be true to myself as well. If Alex vyas old enough, he would understand that. He would want me to go.”

“But he’s not old enough. He needs his mother. Here! Where he can see her, talk to her . . .”

“Keith, stop!” she cried. “I’ve been over all this with my mother and father, and they feel the way you do. But they are willing to support me in whatever I do. And Alex knows too.”

“You’ve told Alex? You told Alex before you even told me?”

She nodded.

“Don’t you think I had a right to know first?”

“No,” she said. “I’m sorry, Keith, but Alex comes first.”

“Then you’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“I know it might appear that way to you, but what kind of mother would I be if I just married someone for his sake?”

“For God’s sake, Ashley, I’m his father.”

“I know, but if a child is to have two parents, he needs two parents who love one another.”

“But isn’t that what I’m saying? I love you, Ashley.”

“But I don’t love you.”

His face looked stricken, and she was sorry she had said that. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I don’t love you in the way you love me. I wish I could, God knows I wish I could. Things would be so much simpler then. But I don’t and there’s no use in pretending.”

“I suppose Julian put you up to this.”

“Of course he didn’t. He’s no happier about it than you are.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Keith, I’m doing it for me. I’m doing something I want to do for once.”

“For once? It strikes me you always do what you want to do.”

“Oh God, it’s pointless going on like this. I’ve told you, my mind is made up. I’m going to New York, and nothing you can say will change that.”

She got up and walked out of the room. Going into the kitchen she heard Alex and her father playing out on the back lawn, waiting for her mother to return from Guildford. She sent a silent prayer of thanks that she should have the parents she had. When she had told them her plans they had been upset, and confused, but just like they always did, they had listened. And now, despite their disappointment, they were going to stand by her, and help her in every way they could. They had started by deciding that it would be for the best if Alex wasn’t around when Ashley told Keith. She watched her father through the window as he chased Alex with a football – an old man with a young man’s vitality. She wondered how long they had been back. But if her father had heard anything, he was making sure that Alex didn’t.

She went back into the lounge. Keith was still sitting in the chair beside the empty fireplace. Her eyes rounded with horror as she saw the great shuddering sobs that were wracking his body.

“Oh Keith, Keith,” she said, going to him, “please, try and pull yourself together. Alex is outside, he’ll be coming in any moment. Please, stop.”

Keith caught her hand, and looked up into her face. He could hardly speak. “I can’t, Ash. I can’t. Nothing matters any more. If I can’t have you, then life isn’t worth anything. I love you so much, I never knew it was possible to love anyone so much. Don’t do this to me, Ash. Please! Don’t leave me.”

She felt a moment’s panic as she remembered his threats the last time she had told him she was leaving him. She would never forget how he had threatened to take Alex away, somewhere she would never find them. But now he seemed almost defeated in his grief, and she told herself that he loved Alex too much to try and hurt them all like that again. Her own tears mingled with his as she put her arms round him. She held him for a long time, and waited for him to be calm. But it was difficult for him. He had placed everything on his future with her, it was the only way he had of getting his son back, and now his future seemed worthless.

Finally he lifted his head from her shoulder. She looked into his face, and her heart turned over to see such despair.

“When will you go?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she answered. “Soon.”

“Is there any chance that things might fall through?”

“I don’t think so. Julian has already spoken to Conrad, and the wheels are in motion.”

“And what is Julian going to do?” he asked, pathetically.

“Julian?” she said, looking at her watch. “Well, about now, Julian will be getting married to Blanche.”

“I could kill him. If he hadn’t come back into your life, then none of this would have happened.”

“You can’t say that. Maybe it would have happened anyway, sooner or later.”

“I’d like to think it wouldn’t have.”

She hugged him, and kissed his cheek. “I know.”

“What did Alex say, when you told him?”

She chuckled. “Alex thinks of the whole thing as yet another adventure. He seemed rather to like the idea that his mother was going to New York, though why I can’t imagine. He’s already planning his first holiday out there. That’s where he and Dad have been now. Down to the library to get some books on New York.”

Keith smiled weakly. “He is a great kid, isn’t he?”

“Like his father.”

His eyes became soft, and she thought that he was going to cry again.

“Come on,” she said. “You don’t want him to see you like this. Why don’t you go upstairs and dean up. I’ll make us a nice pot of tea, and then call him in.”

She stood up, but Keith held onto her hand. She turned back. “I’ll always love you, Ashley,” he said. “And no matter where you are, or what you’re doing, it’ll always be me who loves you more than anyone else. I’ll wait. You’ll come back to me in the end. I know you will.”

She nodded, and drew her hand away. She didn’t want to answer him. There was nothing more she could say.

TWENTY-FOUR

Linda stopped in the middle of the village street to check off her shopping list. Yes, she had already picked up Bob’s shirts from the laundry and put them in the car. She had collected his tax return from his accountant. Violet’s birthday present was ordered. She checked her bag to make sure she had remembered to pick up the new plug for the bathroom sink – Bob had been complaining about the old one for weeks. Now she had only to go to the butchers and, her heart lurched, last of all she must go to the chemist.

She looked up as someone prodded angrily on their car horn. It was Jason Arnold, her neighbour’s son. Obviously he hadn’t realised it was her. She moved to get out of the way, and Jason thrust his Porsche into a lower gear and accelerated off down the street, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

Linda looked after him, wondering what his life was like. And then she saw Mrs Plester coming out of the Post Office. They exchanged greetings, and Linda watched her walk away, wondering what her life was like.

Fixing a smile on her face, she went on about her business. Ten minutes later she was getting into her car and driving home. She had been to the chemist. She glanced at the white paper bag, sitting on the passenger seat beside her, and felt a familiar lump rising in her throat. That morning, regular as clockwork – as they say – her period had arrived. It was all very well deciding that she would get pregnant, but it seemed that fate had other plans for her. She felt angry. What did fate know about anything? Let fate try making love with a husband whose mind was with another woman.

She pulled up outside the house and began taking the things from the car. Millie, her daily, came to take Bob’s shirts. Linda watched her walk back inside, pulling the door behind her and making the trawler net that was hanging beside the door sway in the breeze. Routine. Linda shopped, Millie cleaned. Bob asked, Linda did. It was part of married life. If she needed something in London, Bob got it for her. If he needed . . . Their life was a routine. Entwined like the ropes of the trawler net. Every twine as important as the next, but each one appearing as insignificant as the next. Yet, if one gave way . . .

He’d be home tomorrow. Another weekend of pregnant silence and perfect manners. Did she, whoever she was, know what it was like to live like this? To carry on, day after day, trying to pretend that everything was normal, when all the time the earth was preparing to open up and swallow the precious routine.

And now another routine. The monthly routine. It meant they wouldn’t make love this weekend, and she didn’t know whether she was glad or not. Would he ask why? He hadn’t asked any questions when she had disappeared for the weekend. She had left a note of course, so he had known where she was, but he had never asked her anything about it. She knew he hadn’t returned to London – the stable boys had told her. How she had hated asking.

She went inside and found Millie sorting through a pile of theatre programmes. “What shall I do with these?”

“I’ll take them upstairs,” Linda smiled, taking them from her. She had spent the previous evening going through them, reliving the memories that each one of them stored. The programme for
Twelfth Night
was untouched. “Anyone call when I was out?”

“Ah yes,” said Millie, remembering. “Mr McElfrey rang.”

Linda turned back in surprise. “Did he say what it was about?”

“Just wanted to remind you to pick up his shirts,” Millie informed her, and abruptly flicked the switch of the vacuum cleaner.

Linda took the theatre programmes into the bedroom.
Twelth Night.
She picked it up and fingered it carefully, as if she were touching a poisoned apple. She wanted to open it, but she knew that the picture – 
her
picture – would be inside, and Linda didn’t want to see her for the first time like that.