Read City Woman Online

Authors: Patricia Scanlan

City Woman (15 page)

‘Don’t argue with me, Richard; I’m your mother,’ was a frequent saying of the mega-martyr Sarah. ‘If only your father were still alive
he’d
look
after me.’ This infuriated Caroline because, whatever his faults, her husband was an exemplary son and always had been.

He looked after Sarah’s financial and legal affairs; he listened to her complaints about her daily and her gardener and often had to soothe their ruffled feelings when they threatened to
give notice. He took her to the doctor whenever she needed to go, although she was as healthy as an ox. He phoned her twice a day and visited several times a week. But was her mother-in-law in the
slightest bit appreciative of what was done for her? She was not! She accepted it all as her due and was constantly looking for more.

Once a week Richard and Caroline used to take Mrs Yates shopping to Superquinn in Sutton. This was not a simple matter. Mrs Yates was a pernickety shopper, picking items up, putting them down.
Up and down the aisles they went, waiting patiently while she made her selection, Caroline pushing her trolley, Richard pushing his mother’s. Anything Caroline put into her own trolley was
commented upon.

Richard had a weakness for Superquinn pizza, accompanied by tuna salad from the supermarket’s salad bar. Invariably, Sarah would comment that her son would be a whole lot better if he ate
‘proper’ food instead of that kind of modern stuff.

‘Of course, I always cooked the best of food for him when he lived at home. Wives these days aren’t very good in the kitchen,’ she sniffed one evening after Caroline had bought
chicken Kiev, another favourite of Richard’s. Caroline was furious. She had been cooking meals since the start of her teens and had never poisoned any of her family. Nevertheless, she had
swallowed her annoyance in her usual timid fashion, not anxious to have a confrontation with the formidable woman. After she had been hospitalized for alcoholism and Richard had admitted his
homosexuality, she had simply stopped going late-night shopping with him and his mother. It was the one stand she made, and her husband didn’t press her. Caroline did her own household
shopping by herself, and thoroughly enjoyed meandering up and down the aisles putting whatever she liked into her trolley without fear of disparaging comment. She didn’t go to Superquinn in
Sutton, although it was a lovely shop, because Sarah had ruined it for her. She went to Finglas instead and made it hers.

When they’d got married first, Richard used to moan about Caroline going home once a week to clean the house for her father, until she pointed out to him that, just as he had a mother who
depended on him, she had a father who valued what she did. And, while she didn’t mind going shopping with her mother-in-law, or visiting her, or having Sunday lunch with her every so often,
the least she could do was visit her father once a week. He couldn’t argue with that.

Now, Caroline wondered what matter of great urgency Sarah was referring to in her message. She wondered if there was anything seriously wrong? Had she fallen, maybe, or cut herself? If she cut
herself it wasn’t blood that would flow – it would be something more like Tabasco! But Caroline thought she’d better phone the old bat just to make sure everything was OK.

‘Yes? Hello?’

Caroline winced at the bellow that came down the phone. Mrs Yates was a bit deaf and inclined to shout. ‘Hello, it’s Caroline. I got your message on the machine. Is anything
wrong?’

‘Of course something’s wrong. I wouldn’t have said so if it wasn’t,’ Sarah snapped.

‘Can I do something for you?’ Caroline asked politely, holding the phone slightly away from her ear.

‘Where’s Richard?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know, I haven’t been able to get in touch with him today.’

Mrs Yates gave a snort of derision. ‘
That’s
not surprising, since you were off carousing with your friends for the weekend. In my day, wives didn’t go off without
their husbands. No wonder the world is in the state it is. When Richard comes in, oblige me by asking him to telephone me immediately.’ There was a peremptory click at the other end of the
phone as her mother-in-law hung up, leaving Caroline half-amused and half-furious.

‘Old crab,’ she muttered, heading out to the kitchen to prepare the dinner.

But where
was
Richard? It was most unlike him to take off without leaving a message or telling his secretary where he could be contacted. She toyed with the idea of ringing Charles. He
might have some idea what was going on. But she decided against it. It might look as if she was checking up on Richard. Once she had got used to the idea that they were committed long-time
partners, it no longer bothered her. In fact it was a huge relief to realize that it was not her, or what she considered her lack of sex-appeal, that had made Richard so loth to share her bed. She
was as feminine and sexy as any other woman, although she had spent the years of her marriage doubting her appeal. Once she knew the truth behind her husband’s behaviour, it made a lot of
things clear to her. No, she wouldn’t phone Charles, she decided, as she chopped the onions, trying to keep her mouth open so she wouldn’t cry. She’d let Richard tell her in his
own good time where he’d been.

About an hour later, she heard his key in the door. That was really good timing, she thought with satisfaction, lifting a big floury potato out of the pot.

‘Hi, Richard,’ she called out cheerfully. ‘I’m just dishing up.’ Her husband appeared at the kitchen door and she was shocked when she saw his ashen face.

‘God, Richard! What’s wrong?’ she exclaimed as the vague sense of unease at his uncharacteristic behaviour that had been with her since she came home, suddenly coalesced into a
leaden knot of apprehension.

Eleven

‘What’s wrong, Richard?’ Caroline repeated the question, her voice rising in concern.

Richard’s eyes flooded with tears. ‘Charles has got cancer of the spleen. It’s terminal.’

‘Oh, Richard!’ Caroline rushed across the kitchen and put her arms around her husband. ‘How long does he have?’

‘They say a year at the most. I can’t believe it,’ he wept. ‘How will I manage without Charles?’ He drew away from her and rubbed his eyes like a child. ‘Did
you hear what I said? There I go, thinking of myself again. How is
he
going to manage? How do you cope when you’re told you’ve less than a year to live? I’d crack up!
Imagine counting the days on a calendar?’

‘That’s awful,’ Caroline murmured, her heart like lead. It was so hard to believe that the seemingly healthy man that she knew and cared for was being eaten alive by that most
hideous of diseases. She had to fight to stop herself breaking down. Charles would be a great loss to her also. By right she should hate her husband’s lover, but she knew that Charles
understood her and Richard better than they understood themselves. He could see why they were drawn to each other and, knowing that it would end in grief, he had tried hard to prevent Richard from
marrying her. Charles had the most empathy of any man she knew, and he had been genuinely kind to her, in his avuncular way, ever since the dreadful night she had tried to commit suicide. He knew
how fragile she still felt. He could understand her fluttery feelings of panic when she didn’t think she’d make it on her own without a drink or a Valium.

If Charles would be such a great loss to her, Caroline just couldn’t imagine her husband’s feelings. He loved Charles with a great and abiding love. They had been together for most
of Richard’s adult life. To him, Charles was a father figure, confidant and adviser, as well as being his lover. How would her husband face the world without his love and support?

‘What’s Charles going to do?’ Caroline asked gently.

Richard sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure if he knows himself yet. He’s reviewing his options, although, God knows, there aren’t
many,’ he added bitterly. ‘Oh Caroline, what will I do? I want to die myself.’

‘Well, that’s
not
an option,’ Caroline said firmly. ‘You’ll do what we all have to do. You’ll pick up the pieces, dust yourself off and get on with
it – and be very thankful for the privilege of having had someone like Charles in your life for as long as you did.’

Richard hadn’t expected this from his wife.

‘I mean it, Richard,’ Caroline declared. ‘If you’re going to give in to yourself and be melodramatic, you’ll be no help to Charles when he needs you most. Just
think how remorseful you’ll be about your selfish behaviour when he’s gone, and that will keep you on the straight and narrow.’ She sat at the table opposite him. In the old days
she would never have addressed her husband in such a fashion. She had held him in far too much awe. But these were not the old days; now they were equals and she felt no such constraints.

‘Look, Richard,’ Caroline said calmly. ‘The trouble with you is that ever since you were a child, you’ve been spoilt in the worst possible way by your mother. You were
the focus of her existence and she raised you to think that the world revolved around you. Well, it doesn’t. It isn’t your fault that that’s the way you were brought up, but
you’ve got to realize that right now it’s not
your
feelings that are important. You’ve got to put yourself in Charles’s shoes. You’ve got to be there as long
as he needs you, and that’s going to be tough. And if you think for one minute that I’m going to let you give in to self-pity while he needs you, or even when it’s all over, then
you can think again.’

Richard’s face flushed, and for one frightening moment Caroline felt the old fear rise up, as during the time he used to beat her. In the old days, he would not have tolerated such
straight talking. Maybe she had gone too far. Caroline stared at her husband as his hands clenched on the table in front of her and then, to her surprise and relief, he leaned across and took one
of her hands in his.

‘Thanks, Caroline, I needed that kick in the arse. This time, I can’t think about myself; I’ve got to think of him. Please help me, Caroline. I don’t think I’m
strong enough to get through this by myself. Promise you’ll help me,’ he said urgently.

‘I will, Richard, I will. I promise.’ Caroline hoped that she, too, wouldn’t go to pieces herself before the ordeal was over. She, who had never coped with any trauma in her
life without resorting to some sort of crutch, was promising her husband that she would help him in his hour of greatest need. Charles had always assured her that if she dug deep enough she would
find all the resources she’d ever need within herself. Well, maybe he was right. Maybe this time, drink- and drug-free, she would cope with a crisis all by herself for once in her life. She
had lectured Richard about his self-pity; well, it was time she grew up as well and started taking responsibility for herself. Just like Devlin and just like Maggie. She would make herself ignore
those fluttery feelings of panic that enveloped her. It was only self-indulgence giving in to them, lying there listening to her heart pound more and more loudly. The next time it happened, she was
going to say, ‘I don’t have time for this,’ and make herself do something to forget about it, no matter what time of the day or night it was. She was going to control the panic,
rather than allowing it to control her.

‘We’ll get by, Richard.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Charles would be terribly disappointed if we didn’t.’

‘You’re right,’ her husband said stoutly, taking strength from her support.

‘Why don’t you have some dinner and go back over to him? Stay the night if you want; maybe he could do with the company.’

‘Don’t you mind being here on your own?’ Richard asked in amazement.

Caroline gave a wry smile. ‘I think, Richard, it’s about time I started trying it out. I’m a big girl now. Besides, when Charles gets really ill, he’ll probably need you
there, so I might as well start practising now.’

‘Well, if you’re sure,’ he said hesitantly.

‘I am. Now eat your dinner and off with you.’

‘I’m not really hungry.’

She put the plate in front of him. ‘Well, just try a bit. I cooked steak and there are some lovely peas and broad beans and potatoes out of Dad’s garden.’

‘I had it all planned that some day you would find a nice straight man who could give you everything I couldn’t and I would go and live with Charles and we’d all be happy for
the rest of our lives. Things don’t work to plan, do they?’

‘No, Richard, they don’t,’ Caroline sighed. To tell the truth she wasn’t feeling that hungry herself now after hearing his news. Richard toyed with his meal just to
please her, but eventually he pushed away the barely touched food. They were having coffee when the phone rang.

Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh heavens above, Richard, I forgot to tell you. Your mother left a message that she wanted you to phone her urgently. I rang her to see if
anything was wrong, but she just wanted to speak to you.’

Her husband raised his eyes to heaven and went to answer the phone. After a minute or so, Caroline heard him say brusquely, ‘Mother, I haven’t time for a lecture. I have to go out
now, so tell me what’s the problem.’ There was a long pause and then she heard him say in exasperation, ‘Mother, I suggest you try and get on with your neighbours rather than
start a whole sorry saga by bringing them to court. You never know, you might need them some time.’ From fifteen paces, Caroline could hear the shriek of outrage that followed this
pronouncement, and she turned away to hide her amusement.

‘For God’s sake, Mother,’ Richard interrupted angrily, ‘I don’t have time for this kind of crap!’ Caroline’s eyes widened. Imagine Sarah at the other
end of the phone, listening to her precious son using vulgar language and brushing aside her matter of great urgency. It’s about time for the worm to turn, Caroline thought with satisfaction.
Good on you, Richard, she mentally applauded.

‘Look, Mother, if you want to bring them to court, do so. But I’m not getting involved, so go see another solicitor. Now, I’m going. I’m going to spend some time with
Charles, who has just been told that he has less than a year to live. When you hear something like that, it puts petty little arguments with the neighbours into perspective, doesn’t it, now?
I’ll call you tomorrow if I get time.’ Richard hung the phone up very decisively.

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