A Winter Affair (36 page)

‘So far, Freya's put up with it. She's chucked him out a few times but she always takes him back. They have children together and amazingly they're a close family. But I feel so bad that
my
daughter has got involved with him and is having his child.'

‘Very careless of her, but you know, my dear, she's probably missing her father, and if this man is older, kinder than some of the young men she's met, she may have been attracted to him, though foolish to end up with a baby, but there it is. Perhaps she should come back to London, bring the child up away from the gossip and his wife and children's feelings.'

‘I don't know what to do about it. Julian would have been such a support over this, though he wouldn't approve of Nick as the father of his grandchild.' It was hard enough to accept that they were going to be grandparents let alone that she was left to shoulder the burden alone.

Alice went on. ‘Nick runs a garden centre and Julian used to say all those budding, shooting plants must have turned up the switch to his fertility. He's a joke, people tease him about which plant food he's on to make him so randy.'

‘No,' Cecily said, ‘Julian would not be happy about a man like this Nick fathering his beloved daughter's child.' She sighed, took a sip of tea, before saying, ‘so just as Evie got this wonderful commission for her drawing, she gets pregnant. She'll be alone with this child and maybe expect too much from you, so don't fall for that, Alice.' She wagged one of her knotted fingers at her. ‘Don't allow yourself to be locked away in the nursery again. It may be tempting, but you have your own life to lead and I sense there's a lot of things you want to do while you still can.'

‘You're right. I'm sure I'll love the child when it's born, but it's Evie's child and she must bear the brunt of it.' Alice felt a dart of sympathy for Evie who, no doubt imagined this baby would lie happily in the sun while she illustrated her books and be no trouble at all. She'd probable felt the same when she was expecting Laura. She was twenty-one then, a year younger than Evie was now. But not until someone had their first child did they know how much they dominated their lives and how much commitment was needed. That was why two loving parents were better than one, but it was no good telling Evie that. Perhaps she hoped Nick would play a part in the child's upbringing, even leave Freya and move into the cottage with her. If she thought that, she'd be disappointed.

‘So what is Laura's reaction to this?' Cecily asked her. ‘What does she think of being propelled into being an aunt?'

‘I don't know. I haven't discussed it with her yet. I'm going to ring her tonight when she's home. I don't know if Evie has told her. They are fond of each other but they can grate on each other too, having such different temperaments. Laura is more like Julian, sensible and solid.' Alice smiled, ‘That makes her sound dull and I don't mean to because she's not, but you can rely on her, and that's not because she's two years older than Evie, you always could rely on her like you could on Julian.'

Cecily smiled, patted her hand, ‘Yes, you could rely on him and I've always thought Laura took after him. But even though your girls are in their early twenties, they are still quite young and have lost their beloved father so it's bound to have an effect on them, though perhaps Evie's reaction is a bit extreme. It will work out somehow, you'll see.'

Alice left Cecily feeling happier, more positive. She had that effect on her, her love of life still burning bright. She'd lived through a war, with many of her young friends and the two men she'd loved killed or severely injured and yet she'd gone on and lived a good, an exciting life, as a photographer. She'd travelled the world until now, in her nineties, her body was slowing down, though she kept her mind active playing bridge, reading and listening to intelligent programmes.

Alice scolded herself, she was only in her mid-forties, and hopefully had plenty of life left in her yet, but it was high time that instead of thinking about everyone else, she got on with some of the things she wanted to do that Julian disapproved of, or perhaps disapproved was the wrong word, rather
not encouraged
her to do.

‘I wish you were here, darling, but as you're not, you're not to mind if I do some exciting things – paragliding, overnight skiing experiences, sleeping in the mountains – be more like Cecily really, though I'll never be as brave as she was.'

She walked down Park Lane; a haze of late sun lingered in the air. She loved the elegant houses there and wondered how many were still lived in in their entirety and had not been turned into offices or flats. Perhaps, because she and Cecily had talked about Julian she felt him close to her now as if he'd be at home with her this evening, and she'd cook dinner and he'd open a bottle of wine, and they'd laugh together about Cecily's stories of her life and her lovers.

She passed the war memorial to the animals that had given their lives in the war, and on down Park Lane still holding Julian's memory to her. She reached a car showroom, the cars gleaming like huge beasts behind the glass. She stopped and stared at them, feeling Julian slipping away from her, but instead of the familiar, bleak emptiness, she had a sudden memory of being in such a glamorous car as that dark blue sport's car, speeding down the road, the wind whipping back her hair and a feeling of exhilaration surging through her. Who had she been with? Julian would never have driven so fast!

Then she remembered it was Frank. Frank Trevelyan.

Though a few years younger than Julian, he was one of his closest friends and what her mother called ‘wild'. Always off somewhere, skiing the valleys, sailing in round-the-world boat races, piloting a plane to obscure islands. Soon after her marriage he'd gone to live in France and she didn't see much of him, though he kept in touch with Julian and was Laura's godfather. He hadn't come to the funeral, being the other side of the world and unable to get back in time, but he'd written her a wonderful letter that made her cry just thinking of it.

She studied the cars in the showroom still thinking of that drive with Frank, the throb of the engine charging forward like a powerful animal and that sense of freedom. She laughed, ah, youth and the tricks the mind played. You couldn't drive at those speeds on the roads today without breaking the law.

A Lexus convertible the colour of cranberries stood seductively before her. She imagined the power coiled taut within its shining skin, poised to spring into life. A sleek young man, his face leaden with arrogant boredom stared at her through the window, she felt suddenly reckless and before she knew it she'd pushed open the heavy glass door and gone inside.

‘Can I help you, Madame?' The man glided across the floor like an old-fashioned matinee idol. For a second she sensed Julian urging caution but she ignored it, something stronger got hold of her, pushing her on.

‘I'm thinking of buying a Lexus convertible,' she heard herself saying, almost giggling at the foolishness of it.

A look of surprise flitted across the matinee idol's face, as well it might, but she pressed on.

‘It's between this and a Bristol,' she said, remembering that that was the car she'd been in with Frank. She peered inside the Lexus and then smiling directly at the sales man, she said, ‘I wonder, is it possible to have a test drive?'

The minute she said it she cursed herself for being such a fool, she may look younger than forty-six, but not that much younger. She imagined the matinee idol sitting her down in a quiet place with a cup of sweet tea while explaining such a thing was not possible; it was surely against health and safety. But to her amazement he agreed, showing her to a comfortable leather chair while he made arrangements and she sat there among all that glittering metal wondering what on earth had possessed her.

A short while ago she'd felt anxious and depressed at Evie's thoughtless predicament, which, like it or not, would involve her, make her the granny she wasn't yet ready to be – not in such circumstances – but the sight of these cars and thinking of Frank had turned her into this madwoman, filling her with energy, her lost youth bubbling in her like champagne.

The matinee idol, whose name was Nigel, bought the car onto the road and opened the passenger door for her to get in. He then got into the driver's seat and eased the car out into the traffic. Alice guessed he'd agreed to a test drive so that he could have a spin in it himself. As the engine sprang into life and he sped down the road ‘to go somewhere less busy', her spirits soared as they had all those years ago with Frank. In fact, she'd have been perfectly happy to let Nigel drive her where he would, but the moment came when they were ‘somewhere less busy' and he offered her the wheel.

The power of the engine thrilled her, reminding her of an excitable horse rearing to go, but she kept it in check. They could hardly go very fast with all the traffic, but Alice felt so vibrant, as if she'd been swimming through pea soup all these months, getting nowhere.

They drove down some streets off the Bayswater Road and when the time came to return to the showroom she drove past Marble Arch, wishing Cecily could see her from her window, then on down Park Lane. The traffic snarled up here and whilst they were sat idling just outside the Dorchester she heard someone call out her name.

‘Alice, is that really you? Whatever are you doing in that car?' And there were two friends, Margot Benson and Petra Lindsay, staring at her with amazed envy.

She smiled and waved to them both before roaring up the road as the space suddenly opened up before her.

When they reached the showroom; she parked the car carefully and turned off the engine, feeling rather flat.

‘Have you ever done paragliding?' she asked Nigel as he opened the door for her.

He gave her a strange look. ‘No, I haven't, have you?'

‘I'm going to do it soon.' She wondered what he'd think if he knew she was also soon to be a granny. Perhaps he'd think she should be sitting cosy somewhere, baking scones or knitting.

She got out of the car reluctantly. ‘Thank you so much, I really enjoyed that.' She smiled at him and before he could launch into his selling spiel, she walked away, leaving him by the car and jumped into a taxi that had just unloaded a passenger.

‘Just drop me by the bus stop at Hyde Park Corner, please,' she said, not looking back at the car showroom.

The bus came almost at once after the taxi had dropped her, and she got on and she'd just settled herself in her seat, when her mobile rang. It was Margot.

‘Alice, whatever were you doing in that car with that gorgeous young man?'

She laughed and explained, though she didn't mention Frank, remembering now how all her girl friends lusted after him. She wanted to tell Margot about Evie, how she was going to be a
grandmother
– it sounded so old and staid – but Margot had to go and Alice was left feeling overwhelmed with the problem of welcoming and caring for a child born in such circumstances.

A few moments ago she'd been filled with such energy, eager to do more daring and exciting things in her life. She was not ready to be a granny yet.

Alice was relieved when Evie rang to say she'd arrived home safely. It was something she'd taken to doing more frequently, a clutch of the security blanket of a family now fragmented by Julian's demise. She had wondered if Evie would contact her this time after her fury over her reaction to the mess she'd got herself into by succumbing to the notorious Nick.

‘Will you be up again soon, darling?' Alice asked lightly, treating Evie like a hand grenade primed to go off at any moment. Evie was used to being bathed in praise for her beautiful artwork, her looks and her general sunny nature – provided she got her own way – how was she going to cope with the condemnation of having Nick's baby, let alone looking after it and keeping up with her work?

‘Not for about a month, got all these drawings to do, but you might come down.' She heard the need in Evie's voice and her heart went out to her, but she must remember Cecily's advice and not allow herself to be lured into taking on the bulk of childcare

‘I will if I can, but I've got a lot on,' she said, knowing that she hadn't, at least not anything she couldn't change or postpone, but she was angry and disappointed with Evie and fearful of saying something about the situation that might fragment their relationship. Evie was too streetwise to have been seduced unknowingly by Nick. She wasn't short of admirers either, being often surrounded by charming young men who were not already committed to somebody else.

‘Like what?' Evie exclaimed. ‘I mean it's not as if you have a full-time job or anything now your decorating thing with Margot has folded.'

‘It hasn't exactly folded; orders are just quite sparse at the moment. I have a life, Evie, I want to see my friends and…' She didn't add take up new challenges.

‘I just feel so sick and…'

‘I know, darling, pregnancy is difficult for a while, but you made the choice to have…' She was going to say ‘have sex' but it sounded so basic, like going to the loo, she went on, ‘To go to bed with Nick without taking proper precautions, not that you should have been in bed with him anyway.'

‘You don't understand, Mum, I couldn't help it, he is so attractive and persuasive, and he loves me.'

Why did each generation think that they'd been the ones to discover the all-consuming sexual desire for someone, often confusing it for love?

‘What does Freya,
his wife
, think?' she said briskly.

‘She doesn't know yet. Nick says it's best to wait three months to make sure the pregnancy sticks. He didn't want me to tell you until then, but as I was with you and might not see you for another few weeks I thought I should tell you.' Evie sounded near tears.