Holding On (48 page)

‘And is it?' asked Theo gently.

Fliss looked out at the sweep of the hill. In her mind's eye she saw Fox, with the dogs running ahead, climbing the sheep tracks with Susanna astride his shoulders and Mole coming along behind. Down by the river the blackthorn blossom was bridal white whilst marsh marigolds glowed, splashes of gold in the fast-running waters, and she heard voices from long-past summers, calling and laughing as dams were built and picnics unpacked on the bank. A yaffingale was laughing in the woods and, as she watched, Caroline appeared from behind the spinney with Rex, nose to ground, pursuing an elusive rabbit.

‘Only in part,' she said at last, trying to be completely honest with herself. ‘It's too closely bound up together to be absolutely clear about it but it's not just because I can't bear to leave you all, it's because of all that.' Her gesture embraced the scene beyond the window. ‘I'm just too English, I suppose. I love the changing seasons and everything that goes to make the countryside what it is. I'm like a fish out of water in a place like Hong Kong. It was OK for a year or two, knowing I was coming back, but I can't face it for the rest of my life.' She turned back into the room, the small frown fixed between her brows. ‘But how do you work out something like this? Does Miles sacrifice his job or do I sacrifice my need to be where I belong?'

Theo emptied his mind and prayed for guidance. It came at once.

‘There is a difference,' he said slowly, ‘between this new situation and being a naval wife. When you marry a man, assuming that he is the provider, you go where his work takes him cheerfully and bravely. I can imagine that it might not be simple for Miles to find another job immediately but I'm sure that this is not the only opportunity open to him. He should have discussed the future with you. It belongs to both of you and to your children. Compromises might have to be made but to take a decision of this enormity knowing you as he does – or should – and without asking your opinion is overstepping the mark. Now that he knows how strongly you feel about it, I think he should be prepared to reconsider.'

‘He doesn't want to stay in England,' said Fliss miserably. ‘It's a kind of impasse and neither of us wants to back down.'

‘If you had never been to Hong Kong,' Theo said carefully, ‘I might have suggested that you tried it for a short time but since you spent two years there then I think we can take it that you know your own mind. If Miles has set
his
mind against this country that certainly presents problems. It comes down to this: do you love your country and family more than you love Miles? Or, to look at it the other way – which is only proper – does Miles love the idea of this new job more than he loves you?'

Fliss did not hesitate. ‘The answer to both questions must be yes,' she said, ‘since we're each of us considering these options.'

Theo leaned his chin upon his folded hands. The bee had finished its inspection of the curtains and was droning gently as it buffeted itself against the window pane. Fliss went across to open the window wider, to allow the bee its freedom.

‘The answer might only be “probably”.' Theo's voice was thoughtful. ‘It is probable that both of you are mistaken in your assumptions. Each of you might miss the other more than you suspect.'

Fliss shrugged. ‘Obviously that could be true. I wouldn't want you to imagine that we are indifferent about this.'

‘Clearly not or there wouldn't be all this soul-searching, but I think that perhaps a period of separation might give us the real answer. Why shouldn't Miles go to Hong Kong? Give it a trial for, say, two years, a time to be agreed between you both, anyway. Plenty of naval postings last that long and families are often separated for even longer. Give yourselves the space and time for your true feelings to emerge. What do you say?'

‘It sounds terribly sensible,' said Fliss. ‘Much better than acts of martyrdom or irreversible divorces.'

‘I don't approve of the first,' said Theo. ‘Such acts invariably lead to resentment and self-pity. As for the second, I believe that there are valid reasons for such action but only as a last resort. I'm not certain that you and Miles are far enough along that road just yet. Well?'

He pushed back his chair, smiling at her, and she smiled too, relief smoothing away the frown as she nodded.

‘It's worth trying,' she said. ‘Miles won't be very pleased but it's better than making a decision we might both regret. Bless you, Uncle Theo. I knew you'd help me see things straight.'

‘I can't imagine why,' he murmured, ‘but we won't go into that.'

They stood together at the window, his arm about her shoulder, looking out at the spring morning and listening to the cuckoo calling across the valley.

‘I simply can't bear the thought of leaving it,' she said suddenly and with great vehemence. ‘I just can't. Why does he treat me as if I'm a child who can't possibly know her own mind? For heaven's sake, I'm thirty-eight years old in September.'

Theo thought: I am nearly fifty years older than she is. She still seems like a child to me, too, but I can remember how offensive it was when old people refused to take me seriously when I was a young man.

He said, ‘It's true that people think wisdom only arrives at the age they are at the moment and that anyone younger is, therefore, foolish. That age might be twelve or thirty or it might be eighty. We each like to imagine that we are superior to someone and age allows us this illusion more easily than almost anything else. Each generation thinks it is the last to possess real taste or genius or sound moral judgements.'

Fliss laughed. ‘I'm afraid that's so,' she said ruefully. ‘I'm guilty of that myself with the twinnies' pop music. Oh dear, now you've made me feel bad.'

His grip around her slim square shoulders tightened.

‘Is there time for a moralising lecture on motes and beams?' he murmured provocatively.

‘No there isn't,' she said tartly, ‘but there's certainly time for a drink before lunch. I think I need one after all that.'

She looked and sounded so much like Freddy that he laughed delightedly and went away to find some glasses and to inspect the contents of his drinks cupboard.

 

Downstairs Prue was laying the kitchen table when Caroline came in with Rex at her heels.

‘That was just heavenly,' she said. ‘Sorry to leave you to it but I couldn't resist. Is Fliss still with Theo?'

Prue nodded. ‘I can still hardly take it in,' she said. ‘Poor Fliss. Just as she was getting so excited about buying a house and settling down at last. I can't believe that Miles can be serious. It makes him sound so insensitive and I've always thought that he was so nice.'

‘I can believe it,' said Caroline grimly, shooing Rex into the dog basket and bringing a tray of warm rolls out of the oven.

Prue stared at her in some surprise and Caroline smiled back at her affectionately. Prue had put on weight in these last four years at The Keep and her fluffy short hair, a pretty silvery grey, gave her an oddly youthful appearance. She'd yielded gracefully to a plump middle age and, resisting Kit's spasmodic attempts to make her fashionable, had settled happily into kilts and guernseys which underlined the aura of classic timelessness which surrounded her. Looking at her, Caroline was aware of her own more angular shape. The necessity to help out in the grounds and to exercise Rex had made the wearing of trousers a habit and her mild disinterest in clothes had hardened now into complete indifference.

‘You're lucky to be thin enough to wear trousers,' Prue had said recently with a certain amount of envy. ‘I stopped when Hal said my behind looked like two poodles in a sack.'

They'd laughed together, Prue quite unresentful at such an unchivalrous remark.

‘Whatever do you mean?' she was asking now, almost indignantly, and Caroline was surprised to find that she was ready to talk about something which had been a secret for nearly twenty years.

‘I was in love with Miles once myself,' she said almost carelessly.

Prue sat down at the table, spoons and knives still clutched in her hand.

‘
No!
' she breathed, sounding suitably shocked but quite ready to hear the details. ‘When?'

‘When I first met him.' Caroline gave the saucepan of soup a good stir. ‘He was Hal's divisional officer, remember? He used to come here quite a bit and we used to make up parties for end-of-term balls and Ladies' Nights. Because he was so much older I used to be partnered off with him. He paid me a bit of attention and I fancied I was in love with him. After a while I thought that he felt the same way about me.' She laughed. ‘It was a terrible shock when I realised that he'd never noticed me in that way at all. I still remember how I felt when he phoned to say that he was coming out here to talk to Mrs Chadwick. He said he knew I'd guess why and I was convinced that he was coming to ask if she had any objections to his proposing to me. I went off for a long walk to try to calm myself down and when I got back Mrs Chadwick told me that he was in love with Fliss.'

‘How perfectly awful.' Prue was taking it very seriously, ignoring Caroline's lightness of tone. ‘You poor darling.'

‘It was a shock,' admitted Caroline. ‘Only Mrs Chadwick knew. My pride couldn't take everyone feeling sorry for me. I came and stayed with you for a bit. During the Easter holidays, if you remember? Good grief, I can't imagine why you should remember.'

‘I think I do, though,' said Prue, who could remember the whole thing perfectly well. She could also recall the shock she'd had on receiving Freddy's letter, taking her into Freddy's confidence, asking her for her assistance in this attempt to save Caroline's pride. It was about the same time that she'd discovered that Fliss was in love with Hal . . .

‘I thought at the time that he must be pretty insensitive not to notice how I felt,' Caroline was saying, ‘but it might be sour grapes, of course. After all, I never noticed that he was in love with Fliss but then she was always so devoted to Hal . . .'

Her voice died away and she sat frowning at nothing in particular. ‘She was in love with him,' said Prue sadly. ‘Poor little Fliss. And Hal loved her, too. Freddy and I came down very heavily on Hal, their fathers being twins and all that, but now I wonder if we were right. I was so afraid they might have funny children, oh, all sorts of things, but I sometimes wish we'd never interfered.' She looked at Caroline, eyebrows raised. ‘Did you never guess?'

Caroline shook her head slowly. ‘No. Oh, I knew she had a sort of childish infatuation for him but I imagined that he was a kind of replacement for her brother Jamie. Well, that will teach me to talk about Miles being insensitive. All these years and I never knew.' She struggled not to feel hurt. ‘And Flissy and I are so close.'

‘We wanted to save her pride,' explained Prue gently. ‘Only the four of us knew. Me and Freddy, Hal and Theo. Fliss still has no idea that anyone guessed. Hal told her that they were too young and that it was too much of a risk when it came to babies.' She sighed heavily. ‘Poor children . . . And poor Caroline.'

‘I feel such a fool now,' said Caroline gloomily. ‘Sitting in judgement on Miles and then being caught out in the same fault myself. What does it say in the Bible? Something about “judge not lest ye be likewise judged”.' She began to laugh. ‘I remember when Mrs Chadwick told me that Miles was in love with Fliss I was so shocked and humiliated that she actually gave me a glass of whisky in an attempt to cheer me up.'

‘I think that's an excellent idea,' said Prue, rising with alacrity and leaving the knives and spoons in a heap. ‘Just a small drop before lunch will do us both good. Why not?'

‘Whisky before lunch,' murmured Caroline, with an apologetic grimace to Ellen's shade. ‘Whatever next, I wonder.'

Theo and Fliss came in together and she smiled at them, relieved to see them looking so cheerful.

‘Lunch is very nearly ready,' she told them. ‘Prue and I are feeling rather guilty. We've been making moral judgements and then discovering that we're just as bad ourselves. We decided that we needed a drink to make ourselves feel better.' And wondered why they both began to laugh.

The train from Paddington was late. Glancing at her watch for the third time, Fliss tried to quell the churning in her stomach and, in an attempt to distract herself, began to rehearse all the things she wanted to say to Miles. It was vital that everything was decided and agreed upon before the twinnies came home for the holidays in three days' time. It would be terrible if they suspected that there was a serious falling out between their parents. The train slid slowly into the station and Fliss's heart jumped with fear as she scanned the alighting passengers, watching for Miles's familiar form. He was one of the first off, hefting his grip, stepping aside as a woman leaped into his path to embrace another passenger. He smiled briefly, acknowledging their apologies, and Fliss felt a painful tugging in her breast, a terrible tenderness. She hadn't noticed until now how grey his hair was, how much more vulnerable he looked out of uniform.

She thought: I can't do it. I can't let him go all that way on his own. Underneath his bravado he must be terribly nervous at such a huge change. And he was so excited about it. Oh
hell
. . .

She opened the door and slid out as he came towards her, knowing that he always preferred to drive himself, and he smiled and kissed her quickly before throwing his grip on to the back seat. Once they were together in the car she was seized with a paralysing shyness, only capable of uttering banalities whilst he negotiated the milling crowds and finally turned out of the station and headed up Kingsbridge Hill. Hands clenched between her knees, she waited for him to speak but even now he maintained an adult approach.