A Death to Remember (14 page)

I
went out of her life with only the smallest of flurries. It was obvious that Orton was poised to move in. I still say it was coincidence that during that last few months my work at the office seemed to involve a growing number of firms for which Orton was the accountant. Our paths crossed professionally far too often, and of course he made matters as difficult as he could for me.

This
in itself was suspicious. What he didn’t appreciate was that my official interest was confined to wages records, not full company accounts. Whatever I saw was always in order. I was not even qualified to examine company accounts with any hope of understanding them. So that, whilst I had suspicions that all was not as it should have been, any finagling was outside my sphere of interest.

In
the end, he took on an assistant, a young and fiercely competent man called Colin Rampton. I thought the prime idea was to present Rampton as a barrier between us. My dealings from then on were exclusively with Rampton.

One
evening I quietly packed my bags and loaded them into the Volvo, told Val I was leaving, and left. It was as unemotional as that. Aunt Peg welcomed me, and asked no questions. Life went on, until the divorce, the decree absolute, and the assault on me on November 16th.

Everything
seemed to come to an end at that time. When I left the convalescent home I was like an aged baby, looking out on a brand new world.

I
was therefore not sure it was a good idea to trespass into the old one.

9

When I drove up to the house on Woodstock Heights I hadn’t seen Val for over three years. She had not visited me at the home, had not communicated in any way.

She
was still living in the same house, mainly, I thought, because her mother was the resident ruler at the grand pseudo manor-house her father had built. Woodstock Heights looked much the same. The gravel drive up to the house was just as neat and weed-free, the paintwork seemed fresh, though the same colour, the dog was new. He came out to stand by my car door, a golden retriever, and by heaven he’d remembered, though I hadn’t. Laddie. He’d been two years old when I’d last seen him.

As
I crouched down to him I felt a stab of conscience, that he’d been completely wiped from my memory, when there’d been a time during which he’d been the only one I could communicate with. I almost got back into the car and went away, so strong was the emotion that clutched at me. I hadn’t realised how much that last year there had cost me, that I’d so crawled within my own skin that even Laddie had been forced out. How straightforward life must be for dogs, their affection unforced and undeviating.

I
straightened. Val was standing in the front porch.

‘
Clifford!’

She
said this with a dying tone at the end, tailing off, as though I’d been naughty and had to be reprimanded.

‘
Hello Val.’

‘
Come along in. Let’s have a look at you. I heard you’d come back, but I didn’t think...you’re looking well, Cliff. It
is
good to see you.’

If
that sounds different from the woman I’ve been telling you about, it’s because she was. I might have overstressed her practicality and self-sufficiency, because it was mainly these qualities that had overcome me. Now she was more human; she looked at me as though I might still have something to offer her. She was untypically unsure of herself. She actually fluttered.

‘
I was having tea. Come along through. If Laddie’s worrying you, I’ll send him out.’

‘
He’s not worrying me.’ That sort of worry I could take and absorb.

‘
I’ll just ring for another cup and saucer.’

So
now she had a maid, probably also a full-time cook and a gardener. In my day there’d been a daily, and caterers had looked after things if we threw a dinner party. I stood, looking round the lounge, as she’d always called it. She had not altered a thing. Still it had that air of delicate grace, the pink and white sugary sweetness that I’d at first disliked and later relaxed into. I’d enjoyed the sweeping view from the wide windows, of the garden sinking away, with the town a misty spread in the distance. Her room. Her house. I wondered whether Orton had tried to influence her regarding the decor and furnishings. If so, he’d failed.

‘B
ut sit down,’ she said, aware that I was still standing. ‘You know you can make yourself at home.’

This
was very close to saying it was my home. In the old days she’d have put a slightly cynical tinge to her tone when saying such things. Now there was nothing but sincerity.

I
sat, not deliberately looking at her, but all the same paying her closer attention. A wet nose nuzzled my palm.

She
was thinner. Val had always been slim, that sleek, smoothly-flowing figure of hers being her pride. Now she was almost painfully thin. I wondered whether she’d had an illness. Something like that showed in her face. The high cheekbones seemed more prominent, the large eyes were deep-set and bruised, the line of her cheek, down to a chin that had always been too sharp, was now indented. I detected that her make-up attempted to minimise this.

‘
I can’t make myself at home, you must realise that,’ I said gently. ‘You’ve lost weight, Val.’ This because I suddenly felt an anxiety about it.

The
maid brought in another cup and saucer, and a plate of tiny sandwiches, with a fresh pot of tea. The same silver tea service, I saw. Val had had time to prepare her answer, an excuse to lower her eyes.

‘
I’m being very active these days. Squash, golf. I walk a lot, with Laddie.’

A
completely changed life-style, then. ‘It suits you.’

She
handed me a cup, and a small plate to perch on my knee. I felt like a visiting curate. ‘That’s a lie, and you know it,’ she said. ‘We change. That’s how things are.’

‘
Yes. We change.’

Then
there was a short period of silence.

‘
And you?’ she asked. ‘How is it with you, Clifford?’

When
she used my full name, that meant intimacy was banned. I was supposed to provide a formal answer.

‘
I manage. Things are falling back into place.’

‘
But there’s not even that wonderful job of yours,’ she said, with only the smallest hint of bitterness.

I
laughed. ‘That’s true. Strange how things go, isn’t it.’

‘
And...’ She lowered her voice. ‘Financially?’

‘
All right, thank you.’

‘
You know you could...’

‘
No!’

Then
I looked down and selected a sandwich. I’d been too abrupt. What stood between us was the ridiculous fact that I could have claimed maintenance from
her
, over our divorce, a situation my solicitor had explained, but from which I’d shied away.

‘
If you say so,’ she murmured.

She
was so different! I didn’t know how to handle it. She could have lifted a phone, and my bank account would have bulged with eagerness. I expected an argument over this point; the old Val would’ve given me one. The new one conceded that it should be as I said. But a spark still smouldered.

‘
You were always so weak,’ she said sharply.

‘
Complaisant,’ I agreed. ‘That was the word you most fancied.’

‘
But I’m not going to quarrel about it.’

‘
Of course not.’

‘
You must drag along in the gutter, if that’s how you want it.

‘
I’m not going to plead with you.’

‘
I’m not in the gutter, Val.’

‘
No?’

‘
And having you plead with me would be more than I could stand.’

She
stared at me, her brows gathered together and her eyes dark. I smiled at her. She almost flinched. Perhaps it was a smile she recognised.

‘
In my present weakened condition,’ I explained.

At
last I’d coaxed a laugh from her, almost as free as the laughter of our early days. The triumph was that we were laughing at ourselves.

‘
I’m sure you didn’t come to match words with me,’ she said.

‘
No.’

‘
Or simply to see me.’

‘
Don’t denigrate yourself, Val.’

‘
Oh, big words now.’ She seemed unoffended. ‘Then what?’

‘
One or two things. I don’t seem to be able to locate them, and it was just possible they were here...’

‘
But how could they be...’ Between us hung three years since I’d set foot in that house. ‘What things, for instance?’

‘
My driving licence, specifically. The registration documents on the Volvo. I’m going to part with it.’

Her
eyes sparked. ‘And not before time...’ Then she caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Oh heavens, Cliff, I completely forgot. That terrible business...’

‘
That’s why I’m parting with it.’

‘
And not because it was always so unsuitable?’

‘
You never did understand that car, did you Val. All it was, come down to it, was a gesture of independence.’

She
leaned forward. For one second her hand rested on my arm. Perhaps she felt my abrupt muscle reaction, because she snatched it away.

‘
Don’t you think I realised that?’ she demanded, looking past my left ear. ‘But how could it
be
, you idiot? You’d married me, and with me came the money and the position. I couldn’t help that. Now could I? You ought to have been prepared to take me as I was, not reject everything that came with me. It was an insult. The Volvo was an insult. And that’s the truth of it.’

‘
It wasn’t quite like that.’

‘
You could have had your independence, if you’d wanted that. I’d have got you a position on father’s board. Independence and freedom of movement.’

‘
It wouldn’t have worked out that way.’

She
drew in her breath with a small hiss, like an angry viper. But her voice was quiet. ‘Don’t you understand how you irritate people, Cliff? This stubborn, pig-headed self-reliance of yours. Nobody dares to offer you anything, you just about snap off their fingers. Now don’t use that expression with me, Cliff. This is your wife. Your ex-wife. I
know
you. Nobody can say a word about your high-and-mighty principles, when really they’re just petty and tiresome.’ She lifted her chin. Her bosom rose and fell as she took a very deep breath. ‘And there, that’s me being the charming hostess. Did you come here to be told off, Cliff, like a naughty little boy?’

‘
Not really,’ I said placidly, though my heart and mind were racing. Once more I was facing a memory of myself as I’d not imagined I’d been. ‘And the documents I mentioned?’

She
gave a small click of annoyance with her tongue. ‘If they were here, I’d have found them ages ago.’

‘
It was just a possibility.’

‘
Don’t go,’ she said quickly, though the small movement I’d made had not been towards leaving. ‘It could still be, you know, if you wanted it. Your independence. An executive position at the factory. I can control such things now.’

‘
Thank you, Val. I do appreciate it. I’ll bear it in mind.’

She
sighed. ‘Have you ever noticed that when you’ve made up your mind, and dug into your most stubborn mood, it’s then you go all polite and patient?’

‘
I’ll have to watch it.’

‘
Oh, you’re hopeless. Are you going to wait and say hello to Michael?’

‘
D’you think I should?’

‘
Why not? You’re just two for a pair.
He
thinks he’s independent.’

Her
tiny smile was intended to be shared with me. We knew, she and I, that Michael Orton was no more independent of her than I’d been.

It
was a point I’d been wondering about, Orton being able to retain
his
job, when the similar situation with me she’d found unacceptable. He, too, drove off to his office, and returned in the evening. But it wasn’t quite the same, was it? I mean, I’d had a job; he had a profession. More solid, more respectable. And, I suspect, there was the fact that he was Michael Orton. His more powerful personality would overbear her objections. Her position and influence would have to be subordinated to his. That could be where I’d failed. As Val had said, I was weak. She required forcefulness. Michael Orton could supply that.

‘B
ut seriously,’ she said, ‘I do think he’d like to see you, and he’s due home early. We’re going out.’

One
advantage a profession has over a job. You can work your own hours if you are your own boss.

‘
Yes,’ I said, carrying on the thought. ‘I’d noticed his new office on the Square. Michael Orton Associates now. He’s doing well.’

I
got to my feet. Laddie moved away, feathered tail weaving, believing this was going to turn out to be a walk. I laughed at him. ‘Can’t help you, old sport.’ I stretched my shoulders. ‘To tell you the truth, Val, I’m trying to reconstruct that last day, the day I got bounced. It’s completely gone from my mind.’

‘
Oh,’ she said, not particularly sympathetic. ‘I’d have thought you’d want to forget it. Does it matter?’

‘
I shan’t know till I remember.’ I grinned at her. ‘Shall I?’

‘B
ut how could I help? We haven’t even spoken to each other for...how long?’

‘
Years,’ I agreed. ‘It’s not that. There was something happened a week or ten days before that. Say around November the 6th.’

A
polite lift of her eyebrows. She plucked them, I saw, in a softer line than before. ‘Does this involve me, Cliff?’

‘
The decree absolute came through around that time.’