Snow Angels (17 page)

‘Doctor Brown says he’ll be all right.’

Gil said this half a dozen times in the ten minutes after Abby had been up to see her father. He was sleeping, she said. Abby had never been a fat girl, but she was much thinner than she had been a year since, Gil thought, as she sat down in the garden and he gave her tea.

‘Are you sure the doctor said he’s going to get better?’ she asked again.

‘Certain.’

‘He’s not going to die. I don’t think I could bear it. When I leave him he looks so lonely, but perhaps it’s a reflection or it’s my own loneliness that I see. I hate leaving him. It feels like a betrayal every time. I’m so grateful to you that you spend time with him.’

‘It’s not a hardship,’ Gil said. ‘I like him. I wish my own father was like him.’

‘He and Robert don’t get on. I thought they would. They seemed to like each other so well at first. If anything happens to him … Don’t worry, I’m not going to cry.’ She smiled bravely. ‘Every time I see you I do it.’

‘Yes, it’s not very flattering,’ Gil said and turned her smile natural.

Abby wanted to stay at the house with her father but she couldn’t. She had her marriage to think about. She had discovered that things could not be mended in the bedroom; even alone with Robert, other women got in the way. It was difficult to be warm towards a man who had told you that you were inadequate. She had discovered that Robert kept a mistress. Not a long-time mistress; he would keep a young girl for a while and then pay her off. At least Abby thought that they were young girls. They seemed to her to be, much younger than she was but old enough for him. In bed he was no longer gentle with her. He
kissed her once or twice and then mounted her as though she was a horse, Abby thought. He rode her until he was done and then got off. She wondered if that was how he treated his mistress and had to stop herself from asking. Night and morning he bedded her and Abby did not have to wonder why. The subject of an heir had become important and her husband came to her bed regularly. She was, however, determined not to send him from her into another woman’s arms and pretended she was eager to have him with her, though the endurance was hard to bear. Robert was a man experienced with women; he could surely tell the difference between enthusiasm and determination. If he did, he gave no sign of it. There was no child and things were more difficult than ever.

When John Marlowe’s ship was ready to be launched it was a great day at Collingwood’s shipyard. It would be another year at least before the ship was fitted out, but the hull was finished. Edwina Marlowe, John’s wife, was to launch the ship, which would be called the
Northumbria.
For once William had called for a special party for all the workers and their families and inside the shipyard offices themselves a feast had been brought in for the Collingwoods and their family and friends.

It was a cold grey autumn day. The Tyne looked leaden, but the crowds who had gathered to watch the launch were cheerful and so were the men who had built the ship, and who now lined its decks.

Helen was there with Matthew and her parents. Edward had come; Toby was there in the background; Abby and Henderson were there, and even Robert. Rhoda was bright-eyed, cosy in furs, holding Gil’s arm and beaming at everyone, her cheeks pink from the cold. She knew that this was his moment of triumph, his first ship, and the biggest ship ever to be built here. He could feel the excitement in her, her pride at his achievement. Edward came to him.

‘Well, little brother, what a day.’

Gil looked at him. He was drunk; not the kind of drunk that falls over and sings and shouts, but the slow drunkenness that is
never quite sober. Edward smiled at Matthew and took the child from Helen. Gil was glad that he had caught the look that Edward bestowed upon his son. He thought it was the biggest love in his brother’s life; nothing flawed about it. Edward loved his child purely. Gil hoped that he would feel the same when Matthew became a little older and was not just his son but a separate person. William had never been able to make that distinction. Even now Gil was ‘my son, the genius’, whereas he had turned his back on Edward. The only thing Edward had done that his father was pleased with was to provide an heir. It was the sole reason his father let him into the house or, on the odd occasion when he chose, to come to the works. Neither of them would ever be free of William.

Henderson had insisted on coming even though he was not looking very well. Abby was pale with the cold and Robert didn’t speak to Gil. He couldn’t think how she had persuaded Robert to attend a ship launch.

‘Are you thrilled?’ Edward said. ‘You must be. The biggest ship ever. You did want the biggest, the best, the fastest. It was what you wanted and it’s beautiful.’

He was right, Gil thought, it was beautiful. No wonder men called ships ‘she’. This mighty being which he had created in his mind, seen so long ago in his head, this ship would make his reputation. He knew with a sureness he rarely felt that it would cross the Atlantic and take the Blue Riband and that his father would fairly burst with pride. Collingwood’s would be made for ever and ever. Even now, he knew, the men spoke of him with respect, were glad to work on his ship. Gil wanted to do more and after this he would be able to. William would give them more money, build them better houses, ease their difficult lives. Gil would have more power in the shipyard and be able to do things.

More than anything, Gil wanted Henderson Reed’s approval that day. He didn’t know why; it was bad enough constantly needing his father to be pleased. He felt like a spaniel, wanting to
be continually patted and told how clever he was; but Gil had such respect for Henderson and he knew today that Henderson was there just for him, even though the older man neither looked at him nor spoke to him. He leaned against Abby as Gil had not seen him do before. He was standing next to Robert, but they ignored one another. Henderson’s dislike of his son-in-law had grown.

Edwina moved forward in the cold Newcastle day and said the wonderful words.

‘I name this ship
Northumbria.
May God bless her and all who sail in her.’

Rhoda clutched Gil’s arm even more tightly and, as the bottle of champagne broke over the ship’s bows and the contents spilled over its perfection, Gil thought that if he lived for another hundred years he would never be as happy again. The ship began to move very slowly down the slipway towards the cold water of the ‘queen of rivers’. The Tyne opened its arms and received the ship into its depths and the water came up on every side. The men on board and the people round about cheered and took off their caps and threw them in the air and were still cheering when the ship came to rest in the middle of the river.

It changed in those seconds, Gil thought. He felt like the parent watching the child become an independent adult. It was a separation, a letting go, a loss, a farewell, a parting. There was still more than a year’s work to be done, but he felt that it was not his as it had been. It was plucked from his imagination and was gone. Gil wanted to run from this mighty being that his mind had conceived. He was afraid it would turn into a tyrant.

They went back to the offices through the many hundreds of people who had come to see the launch and it was easier there, drinking champagne and receiving the good wishes of his friends, of all the other shipbuilders who had come to the launch and many other important people of the city. Abby and Robert seemed at home there and went around chatting to their friends.
Edward and Toby left as soon as could be considered decent, though Toby came to Gil and congratulated him warmly.

‘My dear boy, I’m so pleased for you,’ he said.

Henderson said nothing, but Gil didn’t mind. The old man’s eyes were light on him, so Gil went over to him.

‘Champagne, Henderson?’

‘No bloody fear. I’ll stick to ale.’

‘How are you Abby?’ Gil asked her as she reached her father at the same time.

‘Very well indeed,’ she said and Gil knew that she was lying. He knew her so well. ‘We’re going away.’

‘Anywhere nice?’

‘To France, I believe. It’s warmer there. I’m trying to persuade my father to come with us.’

‘Can’t leave the yard,’ Henderson said.

‘Aren’t you ever going to leave it, Father?’

‘Not before I drop dead.’

Abby smiled, but it was a forced affair. Henderson watched her go to her husband and then he looked at Gil.

‘I want to tell you something.’

‘What?’

Henderson’s watery eyes turned paler as Gil watched.

‘I was wrong about you,’ he said.

‘Why, Henderson, you couldn’t have been.’

‘It isn’t funny. If we could only look into the future. I can’t stand him. He’s never done a day’s work in his life. He hasn’t contributed anything. “By their fruit shall ye know them.” That bugger hasn’t got any fruits. He hasn’t even given her a child. I wish I’d let you marry Abby.’

‘It wouldn’t have been any good. She didn’t like me and she’s so bossy,’ Gil said lightly.

‘Takes after her mother. She was sharp was Bella. I wouldn’t care if he made her happy. Runs after other women.’

*

That night there was a big party at the house. Everyone danced and the musicians played well into the morning. Helen wouldn’t dance with Gil or with anybody else.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked her.

‘I caught my leg on the table edge at home the other day.’ She called her parents’ house home, Gil noticed.

‘Is it all right?’

‘It will be, but it hurts just at the moment. Go and dance with Rhoda.’

‘Helen—’

‘I know. Go and dance with her,’ Helen said gently.

Rhoda was unusually happy that night. Gil wondered whether she had been drinking wine but, since she didn’t care for that and laughed when he suggested it and said, ‘I’m so proud of you,’ he didn’t worry until they went to bed.

It was late and dark and the house was silent by then; they had been among the last to go to bed. Gil didn’t want the day to end because he wasn’t sure whether he would ever be able to have another that was as good as this one. She got into bed and sat there with her knees up to her chin and watched him as he lingered by the fire with a last drink.

‘Gil—’

‘Mmm?’

‘Have you ever thought about having children?’

‘What?’

‘You know, that we might not.’

‘Children?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t say it bothers me one way or the other.’

‘You wouldn’t mind then, if we didn’t.’

‘I don’t know yet. I might, yes.’

‘I think I might too, in the long run, eventually.’

‘We don’t have to think about it now. We’ve got years and years.’

‘Aren’t you coming to bed?’

‘Shortly.’

‘Now?’

‘I don’t want the day to end,’ Gil admitted, ‘it’s been so perfect.’

‘Could it be better?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Maybe it could.’ She got out of bed and came over to him and sat down on his knee. This was nothing new, but the way that she kissed him was.

‘I thought you didn’t want to do this,’ Gil said, stopping her for fear he had misinterpreted.

‘I didn’t, but you’re not him. You’ve proved over and over that you’re not and I love you.’

‘Rhoda … I think the act is … always aggressive.’

‘I don’t think you’re very aggressive,’ she said, smiling. ‘Don’t you want me because of him?’

‘My God, yes.’

‘I would like a child and you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met. You make me feel safe, completely secure. I think I might be able to … I don’t feel as if I’m your wife. I feel rather as though I’m your child and it’s nice and for a while it was … You love me. Nobody who didn’t love me could have been as good to me as you have been and I love you. I’ve been lucky with you. I didn’t know at the beginning. It was just a gamble and I was desperate to get away from him and … not just from him, from all of it, the memories of my father and the way that my mother had become somebody I didn’t know and their foul children … I feel so lucky. I want to spend all my life with you. Come to bed now.’

But he didn’t because she didn’t get off his lap and she giggled and kissed him. Gil tried to talk to himself, be very slow and careful because he didn’t really believe she was going to give herself to him, not after all this time. It would make the day good beyond all reason and that had not happened to him before. There was always a hitch, always a flaw, always some bastard to
spoil it and nobody had yet spoiled this day. He could spoil it now if he was clumsy or if the memories of her stepfather intruded and he was sure that they would. The act was a taking and he was not sure whether she could bear to give any more, whether there was anything left other than the child she had so far offered as herself. He tried to think what Allsop had been like apart from the obvious brutality. It had most likely been her bed, so as she went on kissing him he very carefully eased her down onto the rug in front of the fire and held her to him. It was difficult after so long not to want her too much for caution, but he had spent months building her confidence. One mistake now and it could all be gone. He talked to her, kissed her, remembered what had happened last time he got hold of her like this in New York, but it was quite different. She was warm, willing. She wanted him and it was much easier than he had thought. When she tensed even slightly, he stopped touching her and asked her if she wanted to stop, but she said ‘no’. There was a slight reluctance on her, but he thought that she had watched Matthew for so long and decided that she wanted a child. Since she trusted him sufficiently she would put up with this, the cost with him would be worth the eventual result. He realised now that Helen had wanted him almost to the point of madness. This was not the same, pale by comparison, but it was better than nothing unless it should break down the trust again and she should retreat into that wild being of the moors she protected herself with. He felt awkward, as though he might drop her and smash everything, so it was almost a relief to have her. She turned her face away. It was the first time in such an act that Gil had felt dirty and troublesome and ashamed. This must be what it was like when you went to a whore, somebody who didn’t want you, who was doing this for a reason and not for pleasure. How could men enjoy somebody who didn’t want them? And yet you could, he realised; biology itself said so. Having her even like this was ecstasy after so long. He wished he could have run to Helen. He didn’t know why he hadn’t gone to her on all those many nights
when she slept alone and he slept alone and there was nothing to stop them. Even when Rhoda slept in his bed he could have sneaked out. She would not have known. And Edward was in bed at nights with Toby. Yet in a way he had condemned them all.