Far Above Rubies (19 page)

I fell back upon my pillow, taking in what had just been said and realizing that somehow I had always known that this day would come, that
she
would come – but in whose form I had not known. I had glimpsed her in the gentle nature of my sister Mary, in the charity of Miss Angela Burdett-Coutts, in the majesty of the Queen, in the soft voice of Consuela Swift, in the twisted mind of Madam de la Rue and in the cool authority of
Georgina. But how ironic it was that after a lifetime of suspicion, I had not suspected the existence of
this
woman in his affections at all. I had missed the signs completely.

‘Do the children know about her?’ I asked quietly.

‘The children will do as I tell them to. It is none of their business.’

His harshness toward me I could accept, but his apparent disregard for the children’s feelings aroused all of my maternal instincts.

‘And will there be sufficient room for my children when you find this
suitable accommodation
?’ My voice had become tinged with sarcasm.

Here I hit upon a raw note. Charles did not answer for a moment and then said with some caution, ‘Georgie and I think … Doctor Bell and I – think that it is best if they stay with me. You are not well at all. When I think what almost happened at the lake, I could not risk their safety.’

The feeling of anger that had lain dormant now rose to the surface, provoked beyond reason.

‘I will not have my children living with you and that actress!’ I spat.

Charles visibly bristled. ‘There is no suggestion that Miss Ternan should ever live with me. I meant that Georgie should remain and look after them.’

‘What a self-righteous hypocrite!’ I screamed, snatching the glass from my bedside and hurling it at him.

The sound of breaking glass brought Dr Bell and Georgie bursting through the door.

Charles dabbed at his grazed temple with a handkerchief. ‘The woman has injured me. I told you she was unstable!’

‘Get her out.’ I screamed, pointing at my sister. ‘She must have known about this. She must have known what has been going on.’ I wrestled with Dr Bell, who was trying to restrain me. ‘Get her out! Get her out!’

Charles and my sister backed out of the room and I fell upon Dr Bell’s shoulder and wept over all the wasted years of my life.

October 1857  

Tavistock House, London  

Mama and Papa came.  

‘So, it has finally come to this has it, eh, Dickens? You would return my own daughter to me twenty-one years after I gave her into your hands for safe-keeping?’  

‘This is my house, Hogarth, and I would bid you to remember it. I am master here so do not challenge me in my own home.’  

‘Do ye hear that, John?’ My mother interjected, sharply. ‘He does no’ want a challenge. Well, I’ll give ye a challenge, laddie. We ken where ye came from and our daughter is too good for ye. We should ha’ never let her go to anyone but a gentleman, and ye are not a gentleman. A blacking-factory boy, that’s all ye are. Dressed up in dandy clothes, I grant ye, but a factory boy none the less.’

‘Get out! Get out both of you! Out of my house!’ Charles bellowed with increasing volume.

‘Are ye coming, Georgie, or are ye staying here with this traitor?’

‘I am staying with the children,’ came Georgia’s diplomatic return.

‘Then ye are no longer a daughter of mine and I bid ye goodbye.’

Any hope of an amicable separation had from that moment
been destroyed. I think perhaps that Charles would have made it all as comfortable as any separation could hope to be, but my mother’s words had altered his intentions completely; no one was going to label him the guilty party. My despatch from Tavistock House was carried out entirely by the servants, my bedroom furniture being unceremoniously loaded onto the back of a cart and driven off for storage at York Place. Alice and Emily helped me to pack up my personal belongings, and whilst Alice carried out her duties without emotion, Emily could not help but give way.

‘Oh madam, to think that it should come to this. Who would have ever thought—?’

Alice looked at her sharply, ‘Now, lassie, the mistress has no need of your tears, hurry y’self up with the packing!’

Charles stayed away at Gad’s Hill, and arranged for Georgie to remove herself and the children to Broadstairs so that they should not see me go. I wandered through the rooms of the empty house, wondering what a woman could take with her that holds any meaning if she is to leave her children behind. In the weeks that followed the separation, the words that Charles had comforted me with –
‘that you have been a loyal wife and devoted mother is not called into question’
– he himself now publicly called into question. He wrote to
The Times
and accused me of being a neglectful and uninterested mother, an incompetent wife, and that his separation from me was therefore entirely justified. That he was in fact praiseworthy in not doing it before now! Can you imagine how if felt to have that which had always been my reason for being, doubted, discredited and published before my friends, family and society?

Papa slapped shut the pages of his newspaper, folded it decisively and threw it onto the breakfast table.

‘So the man has friends at
The Times
, does he? Well, I have friends too, friends who can publish facts that will make it clear to the whole world just what kind of a man Charles Dickens is!’

‘Papa, please, I can’t take any more animosity or ill-feeling. You will never win against him, Papa, never. As long as anyone
dares to question his integrity, he will have the last word. Let it go now for all of our sakes, and let me try to build a life without him. He is much more likely to allow me to see the children if we don’t antagonize him.’

Mama sniffed into her handkerchief, ‘Oh, my poor girl….’

Papa paced the morning room, ‘It’s not right, Catherine. I am your father, and I cannot allow anyone to treat you this way; and your sister, she has not acted with propriety or loyalty at all in staying on with the man.’

‘Papa, I beg you, please do not meddle with him. For my sake?’

My father returned to the breakfast table and prodded the newspaper with his forefinger, ‘For your sake, I will leave well alone, but if he and I should ever cross paths again….’

Our friends could not help but be divided in their loyalties, for Charles had made it quite plain, you were either for him or against him. William was outraged at the news and was the first to visit me at York Place. He held out his hands in a warm greeting of support.

‘Kate, my dear lady, I came as soon as I heard. I cannot imagine how he dares to treat you so treacherously. When I think of my poor Isabella and how I would give anything to be reunited with her; yet a man who could not wish for a more devoted wife chooses to turn his back on her in favour of some young actress. It is monstrous!’

‘Dear William, please don’t make an enemy of your old friend on my account.’

‘No, no, Kate, I am your obedient servant from this day forth, and I shall have no further dealings with anyone who takes his side against you.’

‘Then if you have any feeling for me, use your friendship with my husband to gain me access to the children. I do not ask for your loyalty or the loyalty of my friends, I only long to be reunited with my family.’

‘I am afraid, Kate, that I am the wrong man to ask. I have
already severed all ties with him. Word of my personal opinion on your domestic circumstances has reached the newspaper; my disapproval of his actions is in the public domain. He will never receive me again, and other than not being able to assist you, I care not one damn!’

When I found a permanent place of residence in Gloucester Crescent – I could not complain of its location, so near to The Regent’s Park – my eldest son, Charley, came to live with me. He had pleaded with his father to allow it, and with great perception convinced his papa that others would think well of him if he sanctioned it. The rest of the children were not permitted to visit, though, and I had been given no explanation for it.

‘Why don’t they come?’ I asked Charley sadly, looking out of the window and seeming to see children wherever I looked, walking to the park with their mothers or nannies.

‘They are confused, Mama, Aunt Georgie tells them that you are not well and that it would not be good for your health if they visited. Papa has told us all that his name is our passport to the future and that we would be foolish to separate ourselves from that.’

I squeezed his hand and reassured him that I understood.

‘How
is
your father?’

Charley sighed. ‘He works harder than ever, Mama. I fear that he will do himself great harm. He travels the length and breadth of the country performing his readings, he is at war with his publishers again – which has worn him down greatly – and now he is working on ideas for a weekly journal that he plans to edit. There are times when I speak to him and he looks right through me as though I am not even there.’

I could not help but ask then, ‘Do you see
her
often when you visit him?’

Charley looked down at the floor in discomfort. ‘Mama, it won’t do you any good to ask about such things.’

‘Sometimes, my love, I think imagining it all is far worse. Do
you know that when your father made her existence known to me, he wanted me to meet her just to prove to the newspapers that there was nothing more than friendship between them! I have done many things in my life to salve his conscience, but what he asked of me then was too unbearable to contemplate. Yet, I wonder about her all the same. Please tell me what you know.’

‘She is very young, Mama. It is quite embarrassing, but she is polite to us all and is always accompanied by her mother when she visits. But I do not believe that Father is truly happy. I think he carries a great sense of guilt, a feeling that his own happiness has come at the expense of others.’

‘I am not bitter, my love, I had twenty-one wonderful years with your papa and even if I had known what the outcome was going to be, I do not think that I would have done anything any differently. My only wish is to be reunited with your brothers and sisters – if only there was a way.’

Some days later I received an unexpected visit from Miss Burdett-Coutts and it seemed that she had news of a solution to my difficulties.

She took of her gloves and kissed me on either cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear, that I have not come before but I trust that you received my letters of support? Charles is still so sensitive about the issue between the two of you and I dare not risk any harm to our charity work together by upsetting him. It’s the girls I’m thinking of, you understand?’

‘Of course, Angela, I know that your work at the home is very important to you.’

Emily brought a tray into the sitting room, placed it on the small table at the side of my chair and, while I poured out the tea, Miss Burdett-Coutts made the reason for her visit plain. ‘Now you must not let Charles know that you heard mention of this from me, but I have some news for you. While visiting Gad’s Hill last Sunday, I overheard Charles saying to your sister that if he could be sure that the children would have no contact with their grandparents, then he would consider allowing you to see
them. My dear, if you were to write him and suggest this as your own idea, it may go in your favour.’

I absorbed the meaning of her words: could it be that there was hope? And for the first time in many months I took on a sense of lightness, a feeling that happiness was not entirely out of my reach. William had written to me and made reference to the recent Matrimonial Causes Act, which he felt might give me a way to see the children, but I knew that if I faced Charles in court and tried to prove his guilt, he would use every means in his power against me. He would stamp on whatever hope I had with absolute vehemence and extinguish it completely. But if I were to try the suggestion being voiced to me now, it might find favour with him, and cause him to relent. I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, its pendulum swinging back and forth, and got to my feet.

‘There is not a moment to lose, madam, I will put pen to paper with all haste.’

‘Then, my dear, I pray God bless you in doing so.’ Witnessing my great urgency in searching the bureau for my writing implements, she left her tea and rose to leave.

There was no formal reply from Charles to my appeal, no humble acknowledgement that perhaps he had been too severe with me in former times, or that he appreciated the sacrifice that my own parents would be making in this matter. But when I received word from Katie that she and her sister were to visit, never mind! My dear girls were coming to see me and every moment that passed until they stepped over my threshold was a moment too long.

1857

Gloucester Crescent, London

‘Married? To Mr Collins? No, Katie, you cannot be in earnest? He is such a strange little man, with the most immoderate habits.’  

‘No Mama, you have misunderstood, it is Mr
Charles
Collins that I mean to wed, Mr Wilkie’s brother.’  

‘But that is just as bad, my dear. Mary won’t you tell her she will be making a terrible mistake? The man is as dull as ditchwater.’ 

‘Nonsense, Mama,’ Katie snapped. ‘He is a little reserved I grant you, but he is such a wonderful artist.’  

‘And what has your father to say about this?’  

Katie did not reply, but her eyes blazed with resentment, angry that I had touched upon a weakness in her argument.  

‘There! Just as I thought, your papa has doubts too, doesn’t he? Tell me if I’m wrong.’ I placed my hand beneath her resolute chin and gently lifted it. ‘Katie, you have too much of your father in you to live with such a man as Charles Collins. He will bore you; he will exasperate you. Katie, one failed marriage in the Dickens family is enough, don’t you think?’  

Katie pushed my hand away and paced the room with irritation. ‘Mama, are you saying that just because you and Papa are opposites that Mr Collins and I cannot hope to be happy
because we are different?’

‘I am saying that I think that you would be better suited to someone younger, someone who can match your own enthusiasm for life. Why are you in such a hurry, anyway?’

She had her back to me, her arms folded in defiance and then I understood.

‘Have you and your father been arguing again? You have, haven’t you? Oh, Katie, this is not the answer at all. You will be running away from unhappiness in one place only to find it in another. Please, Katie, if you will not change your mind, then at least reflect on the idea of this marriage for a little longer, you are only eighteen after all.’

Her arms remained folded in a gesture of wilfulness, and I appealed to her sister.

‘Mary?’

Mary’s voice was soft and full of conciliation. ‘Mama, you should know by now that when Katie has decided, no one will alter her opinion.’

An invitation to the wedding never arrived, and I was unsure who had most wished me absent, my prejudiced husband or my obstinate daughter.

When Charley returned home from the celebrations and found me sitting alone, he could not contain his indignation and anger.

‘How can they treat you this way, Mama? I could hardly bear to be there, knowing that you were here on your own and that Papa had invited that awful young woman, along with her sister and mother in your place.’

‘There, there, my love. It is done now and no amount of bitterness will undo it. I am more concerned for Katie than for myself. I only hope that she does not regret her hasty decision, but I fear that she will.’

Charley, who appeared to have already had a little too much too drink, poured himself a glass of whisky, and took a large gulp.

‘Well, Papa put on his usual façade, entertaining the guests with his tricks, dancing and sketches, but when they had all gone, I found him at the bottom of the garden, crying over Katie’s departure and burning his entire collection of letters in the fire basket.’

‘His letters! But there is a lifetime of memories recorded amongst many of them. Why would he do such a thing?’

‘I have no idea, Mama.’ He gulped at the whisky again. ‘And, to be honest, I no longer care. I am ashamed to call him my father.’

‘No, my love, you must never say that. Your father has his faults, but he is still a fine man. Look at the wonderful, charitable acts that he has performed throughout his life. I never give up hope, Charley, that your father will repent of his mistakes and that we will be reunited again. You must be patient with him.’

11th June 1870

Gad’s Hill Place, Kent

The days, months and years passed, and my life continued to be inextricably linked to all that my husband said and did. I began the recounting of our life together in this journal, feeling that by retracing my steps I might live it all again. I read all of his works, attended many of his readings and performances, and his photograph stood in a frame, placed at my bedside. From time to time he would write to me in a polite manner and enquire after my health, and whether my way of life was all that it had been.

Charley was now married and employed in the offices of his father’s magazine, Francis and Walter were in India, Sydney a midshipman in the navy, Alfred was in Australia, Henry at Cambridge and young Edward finally coming to the end of his schooling.

When old Mrs Dickens passed away, (and sadly Fred the following year), I received formal notification from Charles
that the funerals had taken place. He sent word when Georgie was taking the sea air in France to ease her heart trouble, and when the newspapers reported upon the most terrible train crash at Staplehurst, and that a famous author was shaken but unhurt, he assured me via a telegraph that Mr Charles Dickens was quite well and that I had no need to enquire of him further.

My dear friend, William Thackeray finally passed away and twelve years after Charles and I separated, the day that I prayed would never come, arrived.

The click of the sitting room door being opened roused me from an afternoon nap in my chair.

‘Hello, my love, I was not expecting your visit today.’ I smiled, lifting my head from the wing of the chair.

Charley’s face was pinched into an expression far too serious for one of such handsome features and immediately I knew that something was not right.

‘What is it, my love?’

Charley knelt down at the side of my chair, and took my hand. ‘It is Father, Mama, he is very ill. Aunt Georgie has sent a telegram; she thinks that you should come straight away.’

‘Have you seen him?’ I asked, twisting at my necklace.

‘He is very confused, Mama. I think that you will have to be very strong.’

We travelled in silence to Gad’s Hill and I looked out of the window, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, only thinking of him. Perhaps I knew that it would be too late, that Charles would no longer be there when I arrived, but still nothing prepared me for the sight that was to greet me at Gad’s Hill. Katie, Mary and Georgie were sitting on the steps leading up to the front door, clutching one another and weeping. Mary and Kate sprang to their feet immediately and ran to embrace me.

‘Oh Mama, Mama, he has gone!’

I felt as if my legs would give way from under me, but Katie
took my arm and led me into the house and to the room where he lay.

‘I will leave you alone with him for a while, Mama.’

He slept on a narrow velvet couch in the drawing room. In all our years together I had never seen him so quiet and still, with such a look of rest and ease about him, with such patient serenity. I wondered how this worn out body could have contained the restless and vital force that had been his. The June sunshine streamed through the windows and filled the room with reflected brilliance, and I thought how Heaven must be just as matchless in its beauty. If only I could be reunited with him now, with my youth and beauty restored, that I could be all to him in eternity that I had not been in this life. I knelt down at his side and lifted his hand to my face.

‘Charles, I am so sorry that I … disappointed you.’ Even now I could hardly bring myself to utter the word ‘failed’.

‘I tried my best, truly I did.’

I realized with despair that we no longer shared the same world, and any hope of reconciliation was now extinguished. I could not imagine that I would never see him again, that he had gone forever.

The door opened quietly and Katie’s voice asked softly, ‘Are you all right, Mama?’

Brushing aside my tears, I nodded and replaced her father’s hand at his side. Seeing me struggle, she crossed the room, slipped her arm through mine and helped me to my feet.

‘He looks so peaceful, Mama, don’t you think? He had such a fear of being idle and yet, I think that if he had lived much longer, he would have worked until he’d driven himself out of his mind.’

I put a finger to my lips, ever mindful of her father’s great pride, and led her out into the conservatory. The heavy scent of the garden permeated the air and we sat down, glad of the sun’s warmth on our grief-weary bodies.

‘Papa was reminiscing a few days ago about old times, when
we were all together, and he sounded so full of guilt and regret. He said that he wished he had been a better father, a better human being.’

I placed my hand reassuringly upon my daughter’s.

‘Your father
was
a wonderful human being, Katie; it’s just that sometimes I think he forgot the distinction between truth and fiction. He treated us as though we were all characters in his books, as if he could control our thoughts, and words and actions.’

‘But you have forgiven him, Mama, haven’t you?’

‘Now that he has gone, my love, all our differences seem so unimportant. During those years without him there were times when I both loved and resented him, and yet I never stopped hoping that he would alter his opinion of me and call me back to his side.’

‘You know that you will be welcome at the funeral, don’t you Mama?’

I smiled sadly. ‘No, my love, I will not be there. It is him they will come to see. I have determined to remember him in my own quiet manner.’

I stood up and walked out into the garden. Looking back toward the house, I could see him now in my mind’s eye working away on some new idea, and I thought back to the first time that I met him and to the day when my father introduced us.

To the day when my life changed from the ordinary to the remarkable.