Chapter 14 #2
‘Of course it won’t be the same. But we can make it something new, something different. And I think it’s what Clementine needs, after losing the baby. It will give her something to do while she’s here.’
Michael wouldn’t look at her. His jaw was clenched, his frown getting deeper and deeper by the minute.
‘I’m not happy about it.’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘Well, if you’re not happy, then of course we shan’t have it.’
He didn’t reply. His little finger was tapping on his whisky glass.
Was that an indication that he was impatient for her to leave now the conversation was over?
Not that it had been much of a conversation.
She frowned. They’d been getting on so beautifully since the wedding.
He’d seemed much more relaxed, and they’d even talked about Edwin a few times without him closing up.
But this evening, he looked like a stranger.
A sudden chill went through her. Did he know something? He couldn’t possibly. There was nothing to know, not anymore.
‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ she said, her voice low. He gave a brief nod, and she picked up the invitation and left the room, trying her very hardest not to close the door too hard. She wasn’t the sort of woman to lose her temper when she didn’t get what she wanted.
She went up the stairs in a daze. By the time she reached her bedroom, and sank onto the cool of the satin eiderdown, she knew exactly what she was going to do, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
But the urge to see him, to hear him, was overwhelming.
He was the one who calmed her jangling nerves, who soothed her, who made all her worries melt away.
He was a salve to her troubled soul. Like a secret drinker, she knew it would only be a temporary fix, and that the ensuing guilt would be a bitter hangover, but like a secret drinker, she couldn’t resist. More than three months, she’d been without him now, but tonight her need for him was sudden, and sharper than ever.
She picked up the receiver and asked the operator to connect her. Then there was the agony of waiting for him to pick up the phone. He could be anywhere. Abroad even. He often nipped to Paris or Berlin or Florence. It rang and rang.
And then he answered.
‘Jasper.’ Everything she wanted was in the way she said his name. It was a plea for comfort. A plea to be held. To be taken.
‘Elizabeth.’ His voice was wary. Perhaps even a little hard.
‘I need to see you.’
He sighed. ‘You know this isn’t fair. You know I won’t say no.’
‘I know.’
‘Is this really what you want? You were pretty adamant last time we met.’
He was hurt. Of course he was. And she wasn’t being fair.
‘Just lunch. I think I’ll go mad otherwise.’
‘You’ve driven me mad.’
‘Friday?’
There was silence for a moment. ‘I’ll book a table.’
‘Not in public. I’ll cry.’
‘I’ll organise something here, then.’
She needn’t go to bed with him. She simply wanted to talk. To try and make sense of the rest of her life.
When she put the receiver down, she felt a sliver of distaste, the same distaste she had once felt for adulteresses.
She had never approved of women who had affairs.
If things weren’t going well, to the point where you couldn’t bear it, you did the honourable thing and left your marriage. You didn’t have your cake and eat it.
She jumped as she heard a tap on the door and Michael opened it, popping his head round with a tentative smile.
‘All right if I come in?’
‘Of course.’ She sat up, pushing at her hair and re-arranging her clothes as if she’d been caught in flagrante. Did she look guilty? He came and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ he said.
‘Never mind.’ She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, although it did. The tenor of his objection to the ball had shocked her. It was so unlike him.
‘I’m a bit preoccupied, that’s all. About the factory. Things are pretty tough at the moment. Pretty tight.’
Elizabeth felt a different kind of anxiety tug at her.
It had been a long time since he’d said anything like that.
He wasn’t the kind of man to bring his work worries home.
Sometimes she thought she should pay more attention to what was going on at the factory, instead of assuming it was ticking along.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked now.
‘We’ve got a lot of competition,’ Michael went on. ‘Lots of new companies with new ideas. And I’m worried we might lose our market share. We can’t just rely on our old contracts. We need to shake things up.’
‘Surely that’s what Alfie’s going to do when he comes back? He’s been in London. He knows what’s what.’
Michael was silent for a moment. Then he spoke.
‘I’ve been wondering about selling the factory.’
‘Selling it?’ Elizabeth was shocked. She had no idea that Michael was feeling under so much pressure. The factory had been in his family for generations.
‘I think we’d get a good price. And I think it could be life-changing.’
‘But what would we do? What would you do?’
Michael laughed. ‘Nothing. We wouldn’t have to do anything. That’s the point. There’d be enough for us to live our lives exactly as we wanted.’
‘But what about Alfie? And Clementine?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m still not sure Alfie’s heart is in the factory.
I worry he’s coming here out of duty. I’d love to give him the chance to do what he wants with his life.
There’d be enough for him to invest in his own business.
Expand Coupe, if that’s what he wanted. I know how much he’s loved working with Freddie, and how torn he’s been. ’
It wasn’t often that Elizabeth felt taken aback.
She hadn’t seen this coming at all. Life-changing, he’d said.
A life-changing amount of money. But no matter how much it was, it wouldn’t buy her what she wanted.
It was the loss of her son that made her so unhappy.
Other than having Edwin walk back through the door, there was nothing she would change about her life.
She loved Foxwood. She loved Michael, deep down, despite her behaviour.
She felt a dart of shame at the phone call she’d just made.
She thought about what Michael had said about Alfie.
About him only coming down here out of duty.
She’d been so looking forward to him and Clementine moving down to Foxwood, and the prospect of a new baby.
She’d been devastated by Clementine’s miscarriage, for the two of them, mostly, but for herself too, for the thought of a little one in the house had lifted her heart no end.
To be a doting grandmother, she thought, was probably the antidote she needed for her indiscretions.
Grandmotherhood and adultery didn’t sit well together, she thought.
Grandmotherhood was going to save her from herself.
Selling the factory would mean Clementine and Alfie staying in London.
Or buying a house somewhere else entirely.
She couldn’t bear the thought. But was she being selfish?
She shouldn’t expect everyone to arrange their lives just to do what made her happy.
She must put them first. Michael. Alfie.
Clementine. Diana. She mustn’t forget about Diana.
‘What do you think?’ she asked, to buy herself time while her brain raced over the implications, weighing up the pros and cons.
‘I must admit I like the idea of no more pressure. Of doing some travelling, perhaps. With you. A summer in the South of France. Autumn in Italy.’
She could see it in her mind’s eye. The two of them, surrounded by matching pigskin luggage, dressed immaculately, checking into an elegant hotel somewhere on the C?te d’Azur.
Campari by the pool, lobster for dinner, dancing in each other’s arms on a terrace as the moon rose. It was a tempting scenario.
But then what? And why? They couldn’t spend the rest of their lives checking into glamorous hotels. It would be meaningless.
‘I think we would fall apart, without the factory,’ she said.
‘I think you underestimate how important it is to this family, to be part of the fabric of Breverton, to have all those people to look after. We’ve done it for five generations, after all.
We can’t just cut loose. What would be the point? ’
Michael didn’t answer for a while. Then he turned and gazed at her.
‘I’m touched you feel like that. To be honest, I thought you’d jump at the chance. I thought it might be what you needed. A fresh start. Because don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re not happy.’
‘Of course I’m not happy!’ Guilt made her sharp.
‘I know, I know. But it feels like something deeper, your unhappiness. Not just Edwin.’
‘How can anyone expect me to be happy? Ever again?’ She was on the verge of tears now.
He took one of her hands in his. ‘I know, my darling. I feel the same. But perhaps we should try to bring a little light into our lives. The two of us will always share our grief, but can’t we share some hope? Perhaps a change is what we need?’
Elizabeth’s eyes were brimming over. ‘I don’t want a change.
’ As soon as she’d said it, she knew it was true.
The rhythm of life here was what held her together.
The familiarity of each season, from chill dark January through to jaunty spring, blowsy summer, mellow autumn and then the comfort of Christmas.
Michael was silent for a moment.
‘If that’s what you really think, I’ll carry on.
I do love the factory. I never walk through the door without looking forward to the day ahead, even when times are hard.
I love everyone who works for us. And if Alfie really is keen to come on board, eventually he can take on a lot more, so I can slide graciously into retirement when the time is right. ’
‘That sounds perfect.’ By then, hopefully, Alfie and Clementine would be firmly ensconced here with their children.
‘And by the way, you’re right about the ball. I’m sorry I was such a curmudgeon, but you took me by surprise. It’s the right time to bring it back. It doesn’t have to be about reliving the past. It’s about a new beginning.’ He stood up. ‘Let’s send the invitations out.’
He left the bedroom, and she fell back on the eiderdown and stared at the ceiling.
Her hand strayed to the warmth of the satin where Michael had been sitting.
Their relationship was taking a turn, she realised.
Grief had caused fissures in their marriage – of course it had; what marriage could withstand such devastation without suffering some damage?
– but perhaps it was going to become something new, something richer and deeper.
By opening up to her, he’d proved he trusted her, she thought.
He took her seriously and he wanted her opinion. It was possibly more than she deserved.
And he’d said yes to the ball. Suddenly the weeks running up to Christmas took on a life of their own.
Her earlier insecurity had evaporated. She stared over at the telephone.
She didn’t need Jasper’s reassurance now she had so much to think about.
She should probably phone him. Call off lunch.
But she couldn’t now she’d begged him. That would be unkind, and perhaps they did need a chance to say goodbye properly, and thank him, actually, for he had been kind and supportive as well as everything else.
She’d have a quick lunch with him – very quick – and then head to Liberty on Regent Street to look at Christmas things.
She got to her feet as she heard Daisy ring the gong for dinner below. A crisis averted and a ball to organise. She floated down the stairs, imagining the banisters wreathed in ivy and the hall below filling up with guests.
The Snow Ball was back.