The Twisted Way (5 page)

‘You do not know enough about him,’ her mother had retorted. ‘Of course I do. We’ve worked together for the past few years and spent much of our free time together. You don’t understand, Mum.’

Her mother understood all right. A wartime romance was in her eyes no better than a holiday fling. She didn’t like James Anderson but her protests were not heeded. Despite her mother’s reservations Janet and James planned to get married as soon as the war ended and they were demobbed. The idea of living together before marriage was not considered to be an option. ‘It is not done,’ their families had maintained when they were growing up, and they were expected to get married first. Janet was to think later that perhaps that was a pity. A trial run would have saved them both a lot of heartache.

James was six feet tall and his dark thick hair contrasted with his stunning blue eyes that exuded a permanent cheeky twinkle, which Janet, and many of her fellow Wrens, had found irresistible. She was the lucky one, at least that is what she thought at the time. When their wedding day arrived it seemed like a dream akin to something she had read about in a sloppy romantic novel.

James obtained a post as a lecturer in a college in the small town of Everton, five miles away from Enderly, and Janet accepted a position as a primary school teacher in Enderly village. She was happy they were to live so near her parents.

The village school consisted of an old Victorian building with draughty windows and a small tarmac playground together with a pile of out-of-date equipment but the classrooms were spacious and the number of pupils in each class averaged about fifteen. Many teachers in some parts of the country were struggling with classes containing over fifty pupils.

When Janet first saw Primrose House on the outskirts of Enderly she fell in love with it.

‘James,’ she wheedled, ‘darling it’s perfect and we can afford it.’

Primrose House was well placed on the brow of a hill; the one-acre garden was neglected but with careful planning it could be made into something attractive. There was already a vegetable patch, useful in the days of austerity and rationing, and the previous owners had left a chicken run which Janet soon filled with fluffy young chicks.

‘Fresh eggs, James,’ she said happily, ‘we’ll grow our own vegetables too.’

‘If you say so,’ he said. ‘As long as you look after the cheeping things and the damn garden. It looks like an overgrown wilderness. I hate gardening. Thank goodness I didn’t have to bother with that when I lived in London.’

The four large draughty bedrooms suffered from the whistling wind that crept over the fields from the river and squeezed through the ill-fitting windows. The rest of the accommodation consisted of a big lounge, desperately in need of decoration with peeling wallpaper and a fireplace surrounded with old cracked tiles, a good-sized dining room, a spacious kitchen in need of modernisation and a large bathroom complete with an ancient iron-legged bath under which numerous spiders had woven their webs. The green Aga in the kitchen was old and temperamental but Janet loved its warmth; it gave the impression that it was solid and durable even though it needed some repairs. It was greedy for fuel but Janet considered it was worth keeping.

‘We’ll buy an electric cooker when we can afford one,’ she suggested but James threw her a disgusted look that told her that luxury would have to wait for a long time. His expression suggested to her that she was living in cloud cuckoo land.

The old red quarry-tiled floor had stood the test of time and, though cracked and worn in places, it was comfortable under foot. Janet thought that with some polish it would soon look as good as new. A little elbow grease would make all the difference and she was willing to make the effort.

‘What on earth are we going to do for money with this rubbish heap to renovate?’ James moaned day after day. ‘I shouldn’t have agreed to buy it. Why I listened to you, silly woman, I do not know,’ but he had to admit the house had potential. ‘It could be turned into an attractive home with some spare cash which we do not have,’ he added in a grudging tone of voice.

‘We will manage,’ Janet repeated many times with an optimism she did not feel. ‘It’s made of solid red brick and the roof is good.’

The latter remark was like red rag to a bull. James snorted with derision and turned his back upon her. He didn’t help her, preferring the delights of a pint in the Green Man or one of the Everton pubs, spending money he claimed he did not have. Money that a prudent man would have spent on renewing the rotting window frames or repairing the broken garden fences slipped through his fingers like water. He was not a handyman and he did not want to be one.

She doesn’t understand me. We have no interests in common. Why did I let myself get sucked into marrying this woman and ending up in this godforsaken hole? James asked himself. The woman is frigid compared with some I have known. He did not think for a moment that Janet’s responses could be anything to do with him. The marriage was turning into a bad dream and was compounded by frustration and misunderstanding.

What is the matter with me? Janet asked herself. She could not 
understand James’s boorish attitude.

Lecturing was not so exciting for James as his life in the navy had been and he found it difficult to settle down. He, like many young men returning from life in the forces hoped for something better than they had experienced before the war. He could be categorized as one of the post-war angry young men. Nothing was right.

‘The Government should do more for us,’ he whined. ‘We have given up some of the best years of our life for England and we are still struggling to improve our lot! The Germans are building better houses than ours and what have we got? At least the stupid class system has been broken down, we don’t need that. The ghastly aristocrats should be made to wait on themselves. The Labour Government will be the best thing that has ever happened to the working man. You’ll see, we’ll have free medical treatment and better schooling. Public schools should be done away with. Thank goodness we have got rid of some of the deference voters and that bloody upstairs downstairs syndrome. Who do those spoilt, arrogant, rich idiots think they are anyway! The middle classes will emerge with greater strength in their ranks; the working man will rise up to join them as better education becomes more widely available and individual merit is recognized.’

Janet tried to ignore his constant grumbling. ‘We’re lucky James, we have a good solid house, even if it does need a few repairs, we live in beautiful countryside and have survived the ravages of war.’

James did not want to hear that. He tried to ignore her reasoned remarks. ‘We are going to be better off under a Labour Government, but class is something so entrenched in the English psyche, which is a pity. Barriers must be broken down,’ James would continue like a man demented. It was as though Janet was not there. He did not consider Janet’s views were worth listening to and she was relieved when he disappeared, as he often did in the evenings, to the local pub to discuss politics further with a few so-called friends and acquaintances.

There were a number of industrial estates outside Everton and the technical college where James worked provided suitable tuition for the young employees. The classes were full with eager young men but James became demoralized and uninterested in his pupils, which soon became obvious to his employers and reflected in his results in the classroom.

‘A lot ot of lazy young clots,’ he grumbled. ‘They know nothing about life or the hardship of war. At least National Service will do one or two some good. Life in the navy was much more interesting,’ he would say bitterly. The expression on his once bland and cheerful face and the mouth that Janet had once found so attractive now looked spiteful and mean.

The mortgage on Primrose House was large but since they were both working it was affordable. Janet felt that it was worth a little scrimping. In her view it was a lovely old family house although there were no children of their own to fill it, she did have Tom with her for a short while. Alicia was struggling to look after her dying husband and because of her own ill health, which later turned out to be cancer, she knew she could no longer look after Tom and asked Janet to look after him for her. She knew that she would soon become too frail to cope with Will and he would have to go into a local care home where he would receive specialist nursing. They had already made arrangements.

Alicia tried to explain to Tom why she had asked Janet to look after him and why she could no longer keep him with her, but without success. A bewildered Tom left for Primrose House after a tearful parting with Will and Alicia.

James was so very anxious to get rid of the boy that she suspected that he did not really like children or young people. His treatment of Tom became unreasonable and harsh.

‘He’s too much of a responsibility for us at present,’ he said. ‘We can’t afford our own baby, let alone someone else’s brat,’ and he would tilt his head to one side in an odd way, something he always did when he was angry. James was determined to get rid of Tom.

‘You must do what you think is best for Tom dear,’ Alicia said sadly when it became obvious that James did not want the boy and Janet had no hope of having any control over the situation. Her mother had treated the boy like a son and she thought of him as a young brother. James however was so keen to get rid of the child he had even purchased a thin bamboo cane which he placed in the corner of the living room, ready, he declared, ‘to keep that little brat in order if need be or to act as a deterrent’.

Tom’s world was falling apart once again. He had grown to love Alicia and to think of Janet as a sister. How could Janet abandon him? He knew Alicia and Will would not have done so without a very good reason. Tom was confused. He loved Janet but he longed to escape from the strict and harsh James. If Janet was unable to stand up to the man he certainly had no chance.

After much deliberation and many sleepless nights Janet approached the local authority and Tom was soon placed with foster parents. She would never forget his departure from Primrose House or the look of naked triumph on the face of her husband, ensuring the guilt that she felt when Tom left would stay with her for the rest of her life. Janet thought that she had betrayed him.

‘Thank heaven that puerile creature has gone,’ James said, ‘we do not need kids like him around.’

Janet knew that she was weak but justified her behaviour by telling herself that Tom would be better off with some kind and caring foster parents than suffering James’s sharp tongue and threatening behaviour. She felt convinced that sooner or later James would injure the boy and she was right to let him go. She made a nebulous promise to herself that she would try and find him when her marriage was on a more even keel. He was after all not just any evacuee. He was special.

Janet turned her efforts to planting the garden that surrounded Primrose House to fill the gap that the boy had left in her life and erase the guilt she felt. In the summer it became a riot of colourful flowers, bright orange marigolds, pink and red fuchsias, blue delphiniums and sweet-smelling roses. James continued to take no more than a fleeting interest in the house or garden. He hated decorating and do-it-yourself projects and became withdrawn and morose after a short time of what appeared to be wedded harmony after Tom had left. Their sex life, however, continued to be erratic and Janet more often than not was left miserable and unfulfilled.

‘Getting to be a right misery, you are, Janet,’ James ranted. ‘You do not have any confidence, I don’t know what is the matter with you.’

He had possessed the woman, savoured her slim body, which had turned out to be no better than a few others he had experienced before, and after that he lost interest.

‘I don’t find you particularly exciting in bed,’ he would tell her in a blunt way. ‘I’ve enjoyed better and more experienced women. You are frigid compared to them and no better than old flat champagne,’ he had said on one occasion after they had been married for only a few months and had looked at her with disdain.

‘What do you mean?’ she had asked, and he had shrugged. The marriage was failing. She had lost Tom for nothing. She was innately warm and passionate and she could not understand James‘s behaviour. His sexual advances had been rough and swift. He was not concerned whether she enjoyed herself or responded in any way.In his opinion women were just there to be used and enjoyed by men. If Janet had needs they did not concern him.

James became increasingly restless and irritable as the years slipped by and showed no interest in having the family which Janet longed for.

‘I want to travel and see more of the world,’ he reiterated with petulance and crass bad humour. A permanent frown had etched itself on to his forehead, growing deeper as time passed.

‘There is no room for babies in our life,’ he would say with savage intensity. He loved to see the pain in her eyes. ‘You probably would not be much of a mother anyway,’ he added with spite. ‘Snotty nosed and dribbling kids are not for me!’

Janet cringed and believed that he no longer found her attractive. Her once bubbly and lively personality disappeared and she found it increasingly difficult to respond to his rough and brutal lovemaking. It was unfair. She realized that she was not a beauty in the classical sense but possessed luminous clear fair skin, an oval face with high Nordic cheekbones and a neat slim figure which many of her not-so-lucky fellow female teachers coveted. She had let her fine dark hair grow long and wore it in a plait when she was working in the school. Her soft velvety brown eyes fringed with long thick lashes and an intriguing dimple in her left cheek gave her an almost childlike look in contrast to her wide, mature and generous mouth. She was usually vivacious and outgoing, but became listless and was no longer her once exuberant self. In the school she had always commanded the respect of her colleagues because she was an excellent teacher and the young pupils responded to her positively but James’s attitude was causing her misery and confusion. She was conscious that one or two of the male teachers looked at her with more than casual interest and would, with very little encouragement, have stepped with eagerness into the boorish James’s shoes.