The Winter Children (9 page)

‘Francesca,’ Dan said quietly, his voice low with seriousness. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Of course.’ Her heart sped up a little but she maintained her air of cheerful calm, at least she hoped she did. She looked over at Dan, standing by the window. Outside, Londoners
drifted by, large red buses lumbered past, the endless flow of traffic flew back and forth. Out there, it was noisy and busy. In here, the flat was quiet, intense with the needs of babies. Dan was
dressed in loose drawstring linen trousers, and a black jumper that she now saw was pulled on over a pyjama top, his hair messy and on end, stubble silvering his jaw and chin. He looked older
and more tired but still her handsome, irresistible Dan. But he hardly ever called her Francesca. She asked tentatively, ‘What is it, Dan? What do you want to say?’

She had the urge to jump up, run to him, hug him and say, ‘Isn’t it amazing? We’re parents, we have children together, just like I always wanted. It’s all
wonderful!’

But he doesn’t want that. I mustn’t do it.

He said, ‘Thank you for coming to see us. I really appreciate it, and so does Olivia.’

‘Well, I am one of your closest friends. Naturally I would.’
And those babies were made with my eggs. Of course I want to see them.
She couldn’t understand why Dan
seemed so removed, not when it was just the two of them, alone. There was no need to pretend.

‘Yes. And that’s why I have to tell you that we’ve come to a decision.’

‘Oh?’ A strange swirling feeling, like the onset of nerves, started in her stomach.

‘Olivia is finding all of this – London, winter, the cold, the dark – a bit of a strain. And she wants to be close to her family. So we’ve decided that we’re going to rent out the flat and go to Argentina for a while. To be with
Olivia’s mother and sister, and be somewhere warm.’

Francesca blinked at him, bewildered. Then she understood.
He’s taking the babies away from me.
She forced herself to keep smiling. ‘What a wonderful idea. That sounds
marvellous.’

He looked a little surprised, as though he’d expected her to be against it. ‘Really? You think so?’

‘Yes, I do. Of course Olivia should be with her mother at a time like this. And some lovely South American sunshine will be just the tonic for you all. London is miserable at this time of
year.’

Dan seemed to relax. ‘That’s just what we thought. But . . . of course we won’t be able to see you.’

‘But it won’t be long, will it? How long are you planning to be away?’

‘We haven’t decided yet. A few months probably. It’s good for me too, I’ll be able to get on with writing as there’ll be other people there to help with the twins.
I need to get going with it before the redundancy money runs out.’

‘You’ll get a good rent for this flat, won’t you?’

‘It’ll help. But there’s still the mortgage to pay, and all the rest of it.’

‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I can see that.’ Inside, her brain was processing everything as fast as it could.

Dan said, ‘You do understand everything . . . don’t you, Cheska?’

His question hung in the air, and she knew it was all he was going to say about their secret. He was telling her that she is to be shut out of their babies’ lives, and that she must accept
this and not make a fuss. She understood now that this one conversation would set the boundaries forever, and Dan had made it clear that the truth would never be mentioned. He thought it would be
an easy matter to shut her up and keep her quiet and make her do as he wants. He has always thought that.

‘I understand perfectly.’ She gave him the warm, intimate smile she always uses to make sure he trusts her. ‘Of course I do.’

But it’s not going to happen again. Not this time.
The knowledge shimmered through her like a familiar mantra.
I love him. We’re supposed to be together.
And now there
was a new and potent addition to it.
We are parents now. Those tiny babies are us, bound unbreakably together.
It gave her that feeling she had when she was first with Walt.
Restoration. Resurrection—

‘Frankie?’

Walt’s voice pulls her back into the present. She shakes her head lightly and says, ‘Yes?’

‘That’s okay with you?’

‘What?’

‘To organise the trip to the Hall for us all?’

‘Oh. Yes. Of course.’

Walt frowns at her. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Frankie? You really do seem kind of down.’

She manages another smile. ‘No. I’m fine. I’ll feel better when I can see the children again. It feels as though they’ve been gone for ages.’

‘They’ll be home soon, and then you’ll be longing for them to go away again!’ He laughs.

She wishes she could tell him about the hollowness in her heart, and the knowledge that Dan and Olivia and the babies will soon be boarding a plane to South America, but she can’t.
There’s no one in the world she can tell.

1959

They come back across the playing fields, red-cheeked and breathless from games, a gaggle of girls in black gymslips and white shirts, hair blown about by the wind that whistles across from the
east, chilling their legs and biting their fingers.

‘Why is it always so bloody cold in this place?’ Alice asks, but she doesn’t seem to expect an answer. She is gazing towards the building site half concealed by the row of
waving evergreens that grows along the boundary of the playing fields.

Julia follows her gaze, half aware of Miss Dunleavy, the games mistress, chivying along in the rear, hurrying them all back to the changing rooms. Behind the trees, there is movement: the men
working on the new swimming pool and gymnasium. They’ve been here since the beginning of term and still there doesn’t seem to have been much progress, just a slightly bigger, muddier
hole than there was before.

‘When do you think it’ll be ready?’ Julia asks. ‘It looks like it’s going to be simply ages.’

‘Can’t take too long for my liking,’ Alice replies. She pulls the band out of her hair so that her long fair locks are freed. They’re lifted by the wind in long, drifting
streamers. Alice is pretty, Julia knows that. She has a sweet, heart-shaped face, and blue eyes with dark lashes. Alice also knows she’s pretty, and that when she looks innocent and smiles,
people forgive her things. Perhaps that’s why she’s so mischievous. Julia understands that Alice has an appetite for naughtiness and adventure that can’t be sated but
doesn’t know why that is. Alice says it’s because she hates this place, because she can’t wait to grow up and do whatever she likes, and that all the nice things about being an
adult can’t come too soon for her. But Julia thinks it must be more than that, because Alice cannot resist an opportunity to break a rule.

The arrival of the builders at the school was like a red rag to Alice’s bull. Julia prefers the old kind of mischief that Alice used to lure her into – going out of bounds, sneaking
food into the dorms, stealing from the tuck shop – to this new and more dangerous kind.

‘Come on.’ Alice nudges her. ‘Let’s try and get close to them. I want to see Roy.’

‘Dunleavy is just behind us,’ Julia says nervously, glancing over her shoulder.

‘So . . .’ Alice drops to her knee, pulls the lace on her boot undone and then starts elaborately retying it. ‘Bother this boot,’ she says loudly as other girls wander
past. ‘The laces have gone all long on one side.’

‘Hurry up, Alice, please,’ Miss Dunleavy says as she goes past, ‘no loitering.’ But she’s absorbed in counting up the bundle of bibs she’s carrying.

‘Yes, Miss Dunleavy,’ Alice says demurely, and as soon as the games mistress is past, she reties her lace and stands up. ‘Come on,’ she whispers.

Julia knows there’s no changing Alice’s mind once she’s decided.
Why do I let her do it?
She’s not really sure, except that she likes Alice. She was flattered when
the prettiest girl in the class wanted to be her friend, and Alice is funny and fascinating as well as glamorous. Her parents are divorced; her mother lives in London with her new husband while her
father is still on their farm far away in the country somewhere. Alice doesn’t talk about them much, except to tell Julia all the ways in which she’s deceived them in order to enjoy
herself. And even though Julia is not a great lover of danger, she can’t deny that the heart-pounding mixture of thrill and fear that disobedience brings adds spice to life. But now
it’s all going too far.

‘Dunleavy’ll catch us,’ Julia says, trying to make the effort to restrain Alice.

‘No she won’t. Come on.’

Alice veers away from the path back to the old changing rooms and takes them a little way along the treeline, then through it at a well-worn shortcut. This brings them out by the new pool site,
which is, as they know very well, strictly out of bounds. The air is full of the roar of a digging machine but it stops just as they emerge from the trees, and then Julia can hear the low rumble of
male voices and shouts of command. The men are standing about in working overalls, some with hard hats on, some wheeling barrows of mud, others in the great pit in the ground. One looks like the foreman, wearing a big dark jacket and a flat cap, holding a clipboard and deep in
conversation with another workman.

As the girls emerge from the trees, they’re noticed at once and the men turn to look and smile. One or two whistle shrilly. Julia is overcome with embarrassment. She feels young and
stupid, embarrassed that they are obviously choosing to show themselves on the site. Alice doesn’t seem to mind at all; in fact, she revels in the attention, swinging her hips a little and
smiling coquettishly.

‘How are ya, ladies?’ calls one in a lilting Irish accent.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ shoots back Alice.

Julia wants to curl into a ball. She can feel her face reddening with the awfulness of it all, and she’s possessed by crippling gaucheness. Her body seems an alien thing she hardly
inhabits at all. She’s painfully aware of the men looking at her; the small bumps of breasts at the front of her gymslip, her bare legs, and the windswept hair tucked behind her ears. Alice
is more developed, more womanly, and certainly more confident. She nudges Julia. ‘There’s Roy,’ she whispers. Then she waves and grins. ‘Hi, Roy!’

Julia looks over to where Alice points. She sees a man leaning on a spade, watching them. He doesn’t look happy that Alice is waving at him. He nods curtly and turns away.

‘Isn’t he handsome?’ Alice says dreamily. Julia has caught a glimpse of a swarthy face and dark hair. Now all she can see is a broad back as Roy digs hard into the mud at the
side of the pit, his workman’s boots caked in it. Then she sees the other man, the one just beyond Roy. He’s skinny with a boyish look about his hollow cheeks, and his black hair is long at the front, greased up like Cliff Richard’s. He has a hungry
expression in his sharp blue eyes and he is staring straight at Julia. She stiffens and looks away, tugging at Alice’s arm.

‘Come on,’ she hisses. ‘We’ve got to get back to the changing rooms.’

‘I wonder why Roy won’t look at me,’ Alice says, staring at the obdurately turned back, the brawny arms still shovelling mud.

The foreman turns to see them, and frowns. He clearly knows they shouldn’t be there. ‘Clear off, you girls,’ he calls.

‘Let’s go.’ Julia turns, determined to leave Alice if she won’t come with her, and heads back along the treeline towards the door to the school. They will be missed in a
minute. Alice pants close behind her.

‘Hold up, Julia,’ she says. ‘I’m just coming. What’s the rush?’

‘So that’s your boyfriend, is it? He didn’t seem all that happy to see you.’ Julia is intent on reaching the still open door to the changing rooms. Once it’s
closed, they won’t be able to slip in unnoticed.

‘I shouldn’t have shouted out to him. He told me not to. He said we have to keep it a secret.’

‘Where do you two meet?’

‘His caravan isn’t that far away. He shares it with Donnie. Donnie doesn’t mind making himself scarce when I’m around.’

They’re at the door now. Julia can hear Dunleavy in the changing room: ‘Where is Alice Warburton? And Julia Adams?’

‘Here we are, Miss,’ she calls, hurrying in. There’s the usual smell of dirty kit, old mud, and stale water from the shower room. ‘Sorry.’

‘Get yourselves changed. You’re going to be late for prep.’ Dunleavy isn’t interested in what’s delayed them, and Julia has long learned the value of not explaining
unless expressly asked.

As she and Alice are pulling off the black gymslips, she whispers, ‘Who is Donnie?’

‘He’s Roy’s mate, of course. He’s the youngest on the site, Roy says, but works just as hard as anyone.’

‘Does he have that slicked-up hair?’ Julia asks.

‘Yes, all greasy at the front. Looks rather good, I think, don’t you? He looks like a real rocker.’

Julia says nothing as the gymslip covers her head and when she emerges, she says, ‘He’s all right. But I don’t think you should go and see Roy anymore. It’s
dangerous.’

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Alice says with a grin.

‘I just don’t think it’s worth it. What if you get caught? There’d be the most awful row. You’d be expelled.’

Alice shrugs. She’s down to her brassiere and knickers now, her blossoming body pale and slender and pretty. She would look fragile if it weren’t for the stubborn expression on her
face and the wilful light in her eyes. ‘So what? I hate this place. Maybe Daddy would send me somewhere better. Besides, I’m not going to stop now, not when it’s just getting interesting.’

Julia doesn’t want to think what Alice means by this. She has a portentous feeling, as though something dark and menacing is approaching, and she is helpless to stop it.

Two years later

The stones of the old house soak in the sunshine, thirstily absorbing it as though warming the bones of the place after the rigours of winter. Olivia wonders what winter in the house will be
like. She imagines the numbness of the soles of her feet, the nasty prickle of chilled toes, the stiffness of white and purple fingers, and the way her lips become rimmed with blue. She’s
always felt the cold.