Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford
For a moment Thomas Bell was startled. ‘Why, it looks exquisite,’ he managed at last, obviously as impressed as his wife had been earlier.
‘Very original, and quite breathtaking,’ Irène said, and then sighed so heavily that Thomas eyed her curiously.
Irène met his direct gaze. She shook her head, and a look of perplexity washed over her expressive face. ‘Audra thinks she’s especially gifted as a nurse, but she’s not, she’s simply very good and that’s all. Of course, she would never believe me if I told her this, since Margaret Lennox has expressed entirely different views to her.’
Swinging her eyes towards the dining room, Irène waved her hand at it again. ‘No, this is where her gift truly lies—in her artistic endeavours. She is an extraordinary painter, Thomas, but she can’t see it, and I don’t understand why she’s so blind.’ Once again Irène sighed. ‘Oh Thomas, what a
waste
of talent. That’s the saddest part of all.’
‘Perhaps it is. Poor Audra, she never had much of a chance, really. Life sort of came charging at her full tilt, and when she was so young…’
Why ever did I tell Mrs Bell that I’m fine? I’m not fine at all. And I’m trapped. Whatever am I going to do?
These thoughts pushed all others to the back of Audra’s mind as she busied herself in the parlour-kitchen of the cottage in Pot Lane, not long after she had left Calpher House.
I
should
have confided in Irène Bell, she told herself, unexpectedly regretful that she had kept her worries bottled up inside. It helped to air problems, especially if the listener was a sympathetic and understanding person like Mrs Bell. But she had remained silent when the opportunity had presented itself, and now it was too late.
I really am on my own, Audra thought, just as I’ve always been on my own since I was fourteen. I have nowhere to go. No one to turn to… I only ever did have Matron Lennox, but even she can’t help me. She can’t possibly give me a job as a nurse now that I’m pregnant.
The despair that Audra had been carrying around with her for days spiralled into sudden panic, and as she put the cups and saucers on the table she saw that her hands shook slightly. Standing absolutely still in the middle of the kitchen, she took rigid control of herself.
Be calm, be calm
, she kept repeating, breathing deeply, reminding herself that panic never accomplished anything.
When Audra felt more composed, she went to look at the lamb stew for Vincent’s dinner, which had been simmering in the oven of the Yorkshire range all afternoon. Satisfied that it was slowly cooking to perfection, she made a cup of tea and carried it to the fire, where she sat for a while, mulling over her predicament.
During the two weeks she had been ill with influenza she had begun to suspect that she was pregnant. For the last few days she had been absolutely certain; a variety of changes in her body could no longer be ignored. When the cold facts had sunk in at the beginning of the week, her first thought had been of flight. She had intended to stick to her plans to leave Vincent.
But this evening, walking home from Calpher House, she had come to realize that this would be a foolish move to make when she was with child. She had no money, no job—and nowhere to run, anyway. Laurette had put it most succinctly when she had said, ‘We’re the only family you have.’
It was true
.
But to stay with Vincent? How could she? They only ever argued and bickered. Well, that was not strictly true. At least, not at the moment. He had been solicitous of her well-being whilst she had been in bed with the ’flu, and exceptionally kind to her, and there hadn’t been a cross word between them since she had recovered.
A few days ago, he had asked her, unexpectedly and in a subdued voice, if she still intended to leave him. And she had said
yes
, as soon as she was well enough to do so. There had been such an odd look on his face when he had turned away, and thinking about it now she realized, suddenly, that it had been a look of genuine sadness. And she was certain there had been a hint of regret in his eyes, and that he was sorry for all of their angry words, their
virulent rows that served no purpose. After all, they had started out with so much.
Oh why can’t it be the way it was in the beginning
? she asked herself, and leaning back in the chair she closed her eyes, thinking of the happy days of their courtship, fervently wishing they would come back.
A little while later, Audra sat up with a jerk, roused from her ruminations by the sound of footsteps on the flagstone path outside. The door flew open and Vincent hurried in, carrying a large bunch of holly dangling from a string.
His face brightened. He was relieved to see her sitting by the fire. These days he never knew for certain whether he was coming home to an empty house or not.
‘Hello, love,’ he said, putting the holly on the floor, taking off his scarf and trilby hat.
‘Hello,’ Audra responded, and she could not help thinking how handsome he looked tonight. The cold wind had brought fresh colour to his cheeks and his green eyes were alive and sparkling under the black brows. She asked, in her usual quiet way, ‘How was your trip to York?’
‘Oh it was grand, and ever so successful, I’m happy to report. It looks as if we’ll get the contract, oh yes, very definitely. Mr Varley is right chuffed and so am I… it means all of our jobs are safe, well, for a bit, at least. Which is saying a lot when you look around and see what’s going on in the country. Mr Varley says we’re heading for an economic crisis…’ He let his sentence trail off, but as he struggled out of his coat and hung it up, he added, ‘oh and by the by, you can congratulate me.’
Audra’s brow lifted. ‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘I’ve been promoted. Mr Varley made me the new
foreman this afternoon. There hasn’t been one, you know, since old Harry Watkins retired.’
‘Congratulations
are
in order, Vincent, and I am pleased for you,’ Audra said enthusiastically, meaning her words. ‘You certainly deserve it, you’ve worked hard enough.’
‘Thanks for that, love.’ He cleared his throat, picked up the holly and walked across the floor. ‘I bought this from a farm cart on one of the country roads on the way back. What shall I do with it? Shouldn’t it be in water?’
‘It’ll be all right for a while. Put it on the set-pot. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Er, no thanks, love.’ He hesitated, as if uncertain of his next move, and then he walked over to her chair, bent down and kissed her cheek. But he quickly moved away, stood with his back to the fire, warming himself.
‘Thank you for the holly, Vincent,’ Audra murmured, looking up at him with a half smile. ‘It was nice of you…’
‘Oh, it was nothing… do we have any beer left?’
‘Yes, there are several bottles in the pantry.’
He went to get one, asking, as he strode across the floor, ‘How’s the lad, then?’
‘Excited about his Christmas party, and the last thing he said to me, as I was leaving, was to be sure to make you come with me tomorrow.’
‘Oh I don’t know about that…’ Returning to the fireside, Vincent sat down in the chair opposite her, his expression reflective.
‘Theophilus will be disappointed if you don’t go.’
Vincent stared at her in surprise, frowning, and there was a hint of bafflement in his voice as he asked, ‘Would you
mind
if I went? I mean, do you
want
me to go with you.’
‘Yes, and anyway, Theo has his heart set on it. You know the boy hero-worships you.’
He nodded, took a sip of beer, said hesitantly, ‘Well… I do get off work early. Mr Varley always shuts down at twelve on Christmas Eve.’
‘Yes.’ Audra glanced away, sat looking into the fire.
Vincent fumbled in his jacket pocket, searching for his cigarettes.
A silence fell between them.
It was the kind of companionable silence they had so often shared in the early days of their relationship, and tonight they seemed to be at ease with each other in a way that they had not been for months. Quite suddenly Audra felt his eyes on her and she brought her gaze to meet his. She held her breath. There was a look of such tenderness and love on his face it was heart stopping.
She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it without uttering a word, incapable of saying anything at this moment, filled with a bewildering array of emotions. She glanced down at her hands. Her wedding band glinted in the firelight, so burnished, so bright, a symbol of her dreams—and hope for the future. She thought of the baby she was carrying. The child
was
the future… just as it was part of the past, their
past
, created out of their love and their passionate feelings and their need for each other. Deep in the inner recesses of her heart Audra understood that in spite of everything her love for Vincent remained intact and unchanged; that was an inescapable fact.
Almost as if he were reading her mind, Vincent threw his cigarette into the fire and rose. He went and knelt next to her chair, and taking her hands in his he looked deeply into her eyes, which were huge tonight, bright and vividly blue in her wan face.
He swallowed, said tremulously, ‘Don’t leave me, Audra, please don’t leave me. On my way home tonight I didn’t know whether you’d be here or not, and my heart was in my mouth. It’s always in my mouth these days… not knowing what to expect. And I thought, what will I do if she’s not there? How can I live without her?’ He paused, attempted a smile, but it faltered. ‘The truth is, I can’t live without you, and I don’t want to anyway. You see, Audra, I love you, I really do.’
She knew he meant every word. There was not only a ring of sincerity in his voice, but a desperateness too, and as she returned his penetrating gaze steadily she saw the glitter of tears at the back of his green eyes.
For a moment she could not speak.
‘Please don’t leave me,’ he begged again, his voice low and emotional.
Audra touched his face gently, and then to her own surprise, she blurted out, ‘I’m going to have a baby.’
Vincent drew back, his eyes widening as he stared at her, and then grabbed her in his arms and hugged her to him. ‘Oh Audra, what wonderful news!’ Immediately he pulled away from her. All the anxiety had been wiped off his face and he was grinning boyishly. ‘You can’t leave me now, you know you can’t! Besides, I won’t
let
you. You need me to look after you, to take care of you and the baby.’
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged, knowing this was the truth.
‘We’ll have a better life together, I promise,’ he said with genuine feeling. ‘And I promise I’ll be a better husband, I really will, Audra.’
***
At first he was true to his word.
The kindness he had shown during her bout with influenza continued, and he was more considerate than
he had ever been to her, or anyone else, for that matter. At night he rushed home from work to be with her, and he never left her side in his free time, not even at weekends when he was accustomed to going off on his own with his friends. He fussed over her, cosseted her, and was a model husband and expectant father.
Tranquillity descended on the little house in Pot Lane.
Audra was content in a way she had never been in her entire life, and grateful to have peace and quiet—and also rest. Her pregnancy was turning out to be a difficult one. The morning sickness was unusually severe, and the nausea often continued during the day; she felt out of sorts in her general health and was constantly debilitated.
In the beginning, Vincent was concerned for her and sympathetic about her condition. But it was not very long before his patience gave way to irritability and, worst of all, boredom.
Just before Christmas, when they had reconciled, they had done so lovingly and had assumed their marital relationship. But once again this had ceased. Vincent more or less understood Audra’s physical withdrawal from him, since he thought that an expectant woman might not be overcome by sexual desire for her husband. What truly troubled him was her lack of real interest in him and his daily life. He found her attitude strange, disconcerting—and very hurtful.
And so not unnaturally, given his nature, he soon began to find domesticity stifling. He did love Audra, and he did want to be married to her, but he also craved the life of a bachelor. This was not because he needed to chase after other women, for indeed he did not, but rather because he missed the camaraderie of masculine company, of roistering around with his friends in the pubs and betting at the bookie’s office and the race track. He had
done these things all of his adult life and he saw no reason to change his habits.
He also resumed his constant visits to his mother’s house: he missed the hurly-burly atmosphere and the joviality of being part of a big family, particularly one filled with affection and warmth for each other as the Crowthers were.
And he did not feel guilty about his behaviour in any way, mainly because Audra had become completely absorbed in the baby. It seemed to Vincent that her entire being was concentrated on the child she was carrying, to the exclusion of all else.
He was not mistaken in this belief.
The baby represented so much to her, perhaps more than he could truly understand. To Audra, the baby was not only the fruit of their love and their first child, but the beginning of that family of her very own which she had so craved for so many years.
Terrified of endangering the baby in any way, she took care of her health so scrupulously and so obsessively that even Laurette grew impatient with her on occasions; and when she was not fussing over herself, her health and her diet, she was preparing for the great event as if this was the first child that had ever been born.
The second bedroom at number thirty-eight was turned into a nursery, with great attention paid to the smallest detail, both decoratively and hygienically. She involved almost every member of the Crowther clan, insisting that they help with the scrubbing, cleaning, wallpapering and painting of the room. And then, after she had sold a small diamond bar pin of her mother’s, she went to Harte’s in Leeds, where she purchased a set of nursery furniture that was beautifully made.