No Enemy but Time (32 page)

‘We saw the paper today,' he said. ‘Claudia and I were horrified. We wanted you to know how damned sorry we are – it must be so awkward for you, Neil.'

‘It has been,' he admitted. ‘There's been a lot of comment.'

‘He's gone mad,' Philip said angrily. ‘If anyone asks me, I shall say so. I've been fuming about it all day, thinking what an embarrassment this must be for you.'

‘I shall have to make a statement tonight,' Neil told him. ‘I hope you understand. I can't mince words about Frank and what he's done. The real problem is, I don't know how Claire will take it.'

‘You're not suggesting she'll support him? For God's sake, put her on the line and I'll talk some sense into her – it's disgraceful!'

He turned and saw Claire standing behind him in the doorway. He covered the mouthpiece for a moment.

‘It's your father,' he said. ‘He wants to talk to you.'

She shook her head. ‘If it's about Frank, I don't want to speak to him,' she said quietly. ‘That's why he's rung, isn't it?'

‘Yes,' Neil answered.

She turned away. ‘Say I'm out,' she said, and closed the door.

It was the first serious quarrel they had ever had. It began with Neil being reasonable. Calm and objective. He asked why she had ignored something she knew must have a serious effect upon his political standing. He didn't wait long for an answer because he saw by her face that he wasn't going to get one. He described the interview with the Minister and the ordeal he was facing in a few hours' time. He began to shout, because the shut look and the silence goaded him into losing his temper.

‘Even your father came out on my side,' he said furiously. ‘You wouldn't even speak to him.'

‘He would, wouldn't he?' she countered suddenly. ‘He hates Frank. He'd side with anyone against him. Of course he'd ring up. What was he doing? Ranting and raving? No, I wasn't going to listen to him. I won't ever let him talk to me about my brother and I told him so when I heard about Riverstown.'

He took a step towards her. ‘Claire, don't you understand? This isn't some family feud we're talking about – this is my political career! It's been laid on the line for me. My wife's brother is an open supporter of the Provisional IRA. Do I have to remind you that two months ago five British soldiers were killed and injured in an ambush in the North? I've got to condemn him in public in the House.'

He paused and tried to calm himself. He wished to God he hadn't lost control and shouted at her.

‘You've got to endorse it,' he said. ‘I've got to say that
we
reject everything he says and stands for. Otherwise my position will be made impossible.'

He turned away, and went to pour himself a drink. His hand was shaking. He tried to make peace.

‘Do you want something?'

‘No, thanks,' Claire said. ‘So you're going to make the statement. If you want to include me in it, I can't stop you. I hope it'll be enough.'

He sat down; he set his glass untouched upon a table.

‘Don't you care about me at all? Don't you care that what he's done has put me in the most bloody impossible position? No.' He shook his head slowly at her. ‘No, you don't. He comes first with you, doesn't he?'

He waited, afraid that she might destroy everything between them by telling him the truth. But she didn't. She came and sat beside him.

‘Of course I care about you and what this means to you,' she said. ‘I didn't know what to say when I saw the paper this morning. Can't you understand that? I thought, oh, God, Frank's made it all public now, and what's Neil going to say. I couldn't condemn him, Neil, because I understand the way he feels. I don't agree with any of it, but I know why he thinks it's right. He's lost so much because he took this stand. I knew you'd be furious and I hoped it wouldn't be noticed, or matter all that much. I was running away, I suppose. But I can't turn on him, darling. You say whatever you like in the House, and if involving me helps, then of course you must do it. But I can't lie about it and pretend what I don't feel.'

He said slowly, ‘Supposing you're asked right out – what are you going to say?'

‘That I've nothing to add to my husband's statement.'

He picked up his drink. ‘It might be a good idea if you keep out of the way for the next few days,' he said after a moment. ‘Go down to Gloucestershire. Don't talk to the press.' He felt a surge of disappointment and hurt, and it betrayed him into folly. ‘It would help if you came to the House this evening. It would strengthen what I've got to say.'

He knew when she got up that he had made the plea in vain.

‘I can't,' she said. ‘I can't sit there and hear my brother abused and denounced. Not even for your career. I'll go home tonight. You'll do better without me here till this blows over.'

Claire was on her way to the country when Neil made a statement that caught the headlines the next morning. It was one of the most scathing denunciations of the IRA and its methods heard in the House of Commons since the Prime Minister's speech after the death of Airey Neave.

Neil Fraser emerged with his reputation enhanced. When he went to his home in the country that weekend, it was the first time since they were married that he and Claire didn't sleep together after nearly a week spent apart.

Chapter 7

Frank knew what had happened as soon as he saw her. She had arrived first in the Gloucestershire pub, and when she got up to meet him, her condition was obvious.

Then they sat down, side by side in the privacy of the gloomy little parlour, and a waitress came and asked if they wanted a drink before they went in to lunch. They hadn't met for nearly three months. Frank didn't mention Neil. He'd driven up to the country to see her. They varied their meeting places; sometimes it was London, but he was uneasy about her being recognized. He didn't want to cause trouble for her with her husband. And trouble there had been, some months after the famous speech, the first time she told Neil that she was seeing Frank. After that, they made their arrangements in secret.

‘Claire,' he said. ‘You're pregnant!'

‘Trust you to notice.' She smiled at him. ‘Quite right, I'm nearly five months.'

He said, ‘Why? Why have you let it happen? You were told not to have any more! For Christ's sake, what sort of a husband is he!'

‘He made just as much fuss as you're making,' she rebuked him. ‘He even talked about an abortion, but I scotched that one pretty quickly. I want the baby, Frank. I know what I'm doing. It won't be the same as last time.'

He shook his head. ‘How do you know?'

‘Because I'm not going to fool around and try the natural motherhood bit. It'll be really easy, and anyway Peter can't grow up an only child. He wants a brother or a sister. Remember the fun we used to have when we were little?'

He said gently, ‘Of course I remember. But we grew up wild. It's not the same for children over here.'

‘No, it isn't. I've got a good nanny, but as soon as this one's born I'm going to get rid of her. She's too heavy on Peter and half the time I'm in London. Frank, you'll have to find me a nice local girl and send her over. Will you do that?'

He didn't remind her that an Irish nurse in a Minister's household might give the security people a heart attack. He didn't want to emphasize the division that existed. He just felt anxious and angry that she had been allowed to put her health at risk. A proper husband wouldn't have taken any chances. He'd have made
sure
she couldn't conceive.

‘Are you feeling all right? Not too sick?'

‘Not sick at all,' Claire answered. ‘It's quite different this time. Maybe it's a girl. Don't look like that, Frank, there's a darling. I've checked with the doctor and the gynae and I'm going to be fine. All I had was a minor fit of the baby blues, and the minute you came over, I cheered up. Tell me, how's everything at home?'

By home, she meant Ireland. Riverstown wasn't mentioned by either of them now. It only spoiled their few hours together.

‘Much the same as usual,' Frank told her. ‘Nothing really changes. It's very expensive, inflation's gone mad. We're all banking on finding oil to bale us out. Can you imagine Ireland turning into an Arab sheikdom?'

She laughed. ‘Billy driving a Rolls-Royce and having his girl friend come out into the open – God, wouldn't it be crazy? How is he? Do you ever see him?'

‘Once or twice, when I've been in Naas,' Frank said. ‘He looks just the same as ever. Still got his dogs. Still goes on about his bronchitis, and smokes like a chimney. He said you hadn't been on a visit for a long time.'

‘I know,' she said. ‘Neil can't really go now. And it's difficult for me, because he gets so het-up. I've told him it's perfectly ridiculous to talk about me being in danger, but he won't listen. Give me a cigarette, will you? Thanks.'

He lit it for her. ‘How are things?'

Claire looked at him. ‘Between Neil and me? Up and down. That's why I thought another baby would be a good idea. I haven't made him very happy, I'm afraid.'

Frank said, ‘You mean he hasn't made you happy. Why don't you pull out before it's too late?'

‘Leave him? Don't be bloody silly, Frank. I'd never walk out on Neil. Apart from Peter and whatever's under the table at this minute, what would I do?'

‘Come home where you belong,' he said slowly. ‘Start again. I'd look after you. You'd find someone else, someone who was one of us. I mean it. Life's too short to be unhappy. He'll get over it.'

She stubbed out the cigarette. ‘I shouldn't have said that.' She pushed back the chair. ‘Don't talk to me about leaving him, Frank. I can't and I won't. He loves me, and it would break his heart.'

‘You mean it would hurt his career,' he retorted.

‘Not any more.' Claire dismissed that. ‘Half the politicians in the country are divorced or second-time married. It's not like Ireland. Nobody cares about that kind of thing. Come on, let's go and have lunch and talk about something cheerful. I want to hear all the news, who you've seen and what everyone's doing.'

Towards the end of the lunch, she said, ‘Frank, I've got to ask you – are you sure you're right supporting the Provos now? They've done some terrible things lately. Do you really believe it's the right way?'

He hesitated. No one but Claire would have asked him such a question now. And no one else would get the answer he gave.

‘I don't think it's right to go as far as they've gone, no. I've had some pretty basic doubts after the Mountbatten murder. And I've said so.'

She said slowly, ‘That was so dreadful – unspeakable. But Frank, can you say things like that? Isn't it dangerous? If anyone thinks you're changing sides?'

‘There's no question of that,' Frank insisted. ‘I believe in a United Ireland. I want to see the British Army out of Ulster. There's a war going on up there, whatever people over here try to make out, and the soldiers are fair game.' He leaned towards her. ‘It's killing civilians that shakes me. I'll tell you something.'

‘What?' she asked.

‘I went to see a Catholic priest.'

Claire gasped. ‘I don't believe it? Whatever for?'

‘I was baptized a Catholic,' he said. ‘You know that. So I went to talk to old Father Donaghue.'

Claire knew the parish priest in Sallins. A kindly man who had been the spiritual mentor of every servant at Riverstown since she could remember.

‘Frank, what on earth did you say to him? He must have thought you'd gone mad!'

The instinctive reaction made him smile. An Arbuthnot sitting in the priest's parlour at Sallins.

‘He was a bit surprised,' he admitted. ‘We had a cup of tea together. I told him about being baptized.'

‘He must have been thrilled,' Claire said. She didn't understand why the idea irritated her so much.

‘Thrilled he wasn't,' her brother answered. ‘You know, we've always looked down on the Irish priests. I was just the same. Bogmen, our father used to call them. But old Donaghue would have surprised you. He just sat there and let me talk.'

‘Talk about what?' Claire asked.

‘About my feelings for Ireland, and the conflict of not knowing where I really belonged. I asked him if he thought I should study the Catholic faith and see if that would help me.'

‘I'll bet he jumped at that,' she said.

‘No, he didn't. He said by all means, if I was genuinely interested, he'd be glad to give instruction. But not while I supported violence against my fellow men. These were his words, Claire: “There's no place for men of blood in Christ's Church”.' He said after a moment's silence, ‘I never went back. But I got the message. It wasn't at all what I'd expected.'

‘It's not what I'd expected either,' she said. ‘Frank, you mustn't get mixed up with all that superstitious nonsense. How could someone like Father Donaghue cope with the problems of someone like you?'

He said gently, ‘I thought he coped with them rather well.'

‘Oh, I wish I didn't live here,' she exclaimed. ‘If I was near, you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. I can just imagine the gossip!'

‘There won't be any gossip,' he said. ‘No priest breaks the seal of Confession. You needn't look like that. How many people you know have been to a psychiatrist?'

‘There's no comparison. One's medical, the other is just mumbo jumbo!' She saw the expression on his face. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It's just that I can't take you and all that Roman business seriously.'

‘Of course you meant it, that's the way you were brought up. So was I. Being a Protestant was part of being in the Establishment. I remember our father actually saying it about someone he knew who'd changed over. “No gentleman in Ireland is a Catholic.” I thought, Why not? Just because it's the native religion – the peasant's Church. It's the same old system, them and us. You should try to see things without prejudice and not go on repeating the old bigotry.'