He didn’t want to go back in but he went in the end because the cold reached through his shirt on to his body and chilled him thoroughly. He locked the french doors and walked slowly upstairs. He nearly made himself go back to her but in the end he went into his own room and built up the fire and sat there with a glass of brandy while the night got older and finally greyed into morning.
* * *
Sylvester, Hetty and the children came home the next day. Annie was so relieved to see them. She had gone without breakfast rather than face him. She crushed Susan to her and afterwards had the dubious pleasure of watching her daughter throw herself into his arms. He carried Susan into the house, promising her jelly and ice-cream and all manner of other treats. Anthony chattered excitedly. Annie took him by the hand.
That afternoon when they had eaten a big Sunday dinner, at least some of them had, Annie could scarcely get food down, the children went off to play and Sylvester and Hetty went for a walk because the sun had come out though it was pale and low in the sky. Blake sat down by the fire in the drawing-room with her on the big sofa there. Annie couldn’t look at him.
‘I want to talk to you about Susan.’
She had to look at him then.
‘We haven’t talked about schools,’ he said.
‘But it’s all decided. The uniform’s bought.’
‘I mean for when she gets older. I’ve had Anthony’s name down for a good school for years. We can do the same for Susan if you want.’
‘A good school?’
‘Boarding school.’
Annie stared at him.
‘You want to send the children away?’
‘I want a good education for them.’
‘Alistair hated boarding school. Aren’t there good schools here where they can come home every night?’
‘I want them to have the best, all the things I didn’t have, two parents, a good home, an education, a decent beginning.’
‘Boarding school isn’t a decent beginning,’ Annie said roundly. ‘I think it’s horrible sending little children away from home.’
‘It didn’t seem to do Alistair any harm.’
‘That’s because he didn’t have a good home life or parents. I thought part of the reason we got married was to give our children that and now you want to send them away for the best part of their childhood—’
‘No, I don’t. They get long holidays and—’
‘Well you’re not sending Susan away. I won’t let you,’ Annie said.
‘I was only offering.’
‘When are you going to send Anthony away?’
‘I’m not sending him away. You make it sound like prison. He’ll go when he’s nine.’
‘Nine? He’s your only child, Blake, I don’t know how you can.’
Susan appeared in the doorway.
‘Why are you fighting?’ she asked.
‘We’re not fighting,’ Annie said.
‘Yes, you are.’ She went to Blake’s knee and got on to his lap without asking. ‘Daddy, will you—’
‘David is not your Daddy,’ Annie said immediately. ‘We talked about it, don’t you remember?’
‘Aunty Hetty said that he’s my new daddy.’
‘You can call me Uncle David if you like,’ Blake said.
‘It isn’t the same.’
‘Go and wash your hands for tea,’ Annie said and the child went off immediately.
‘Does it matter?’ Blake said.
‘It matters to me. I don’t want her to forget Alistair.’
‘Does she do that by loving someone else?’
‘You’re not at a board meeting, Blake, don’t try to be clever,’ Annie said and she followed Susan out.
That evening Annie and Sylvester put the children to bed and when Susan had finally fallen asleep Annie said to him, across the bed, ‘Did you know that Blake was planning to send Anthony to boarding school?’
‘Yes. I did the same thing. Because I’d had a very hard time myself I wanted everything to be right for Simon and I sent him to Harrow. I wish I hadn’t but there was the business to attend to and Helen was dead.’
‘But you didn’t send Irene?’
‘It didn’t seem so important. I thought she would marry well and have children.’
‘And then she married Blake?’
Sylvester chuckled.
‘Can’t you talk to him, Sylvester? Don’t let him send Anthony away.’
‘I have tried.’
* * *
Annie went to bed early and was lying there reading a book when Blake walked into her bedroom. He didn’t even knock. Annie looked severely at him. Blake pushed the door shut.
‘You asked Sylvester to talk to me about Anthony.’
Annie put down the book.
‘I thought you might listen to him.’
Blake walked over and sat down on the bed.
‘The subject is not open for discussion. Am I making myself clear?’
‘As crystal,’ Annie said.
He took off his jacket and threw it at the nearest chair and pulled at the knot in his tie and swore.
‘If you come here I’ll do that for you,’ Annie offered and when he went nearer she undid it. ‘There’s no need to be so angry just because people don’t agree with you.’
‘You tried to manipulate the situation to your advantage.’
‘Did I?’
‘I get that all day at work, I don’t need it here.’
‘Yes, master.’
He shot her a reproachful look and went off to the bathroom. Annie went back to her book. He came back some time later wearing the bottom half of a pair of black cotton pyjamas and said softly, ‘Do you want me to go and sleep in my own room?’ Annie put down the book.
‘You did last night.’
‘I didn’t sleep, I just sort of sat there.’
‘I didn’t sleep much either,’ Annie said. ‘I don’t know whether I can manage this, Blake.’
‘Not even just to sleep?’
* * *
At some time in the night when Annie stirred she was curled up against him just like she used to curl up against Alistair. It was so much the same that she went back to sleep happy and didn’t dream.
* * *
When she awoke in the morning he had gone to work. She and Hetty got the children out to school. Susan was smartly dressed in her new uniform. Afterwards Hetty announced that they were going shopping.
‘You haven’t forgotten the dinner dance on Saturday night,’ she said.
‘Hetty, I don’t want to go.’
‘You’re his wife, you have to go,’ Hetty said flatly. ‘You might as well get used to it, from now until February there are parties and dances all the time. Some of them are even enjoyable.’
Annie laughed.
‘Are you coming to some?’
‘I wouldn’t miss the chance of letting the old buzzard step all over my corns,’ Hetty said.
Annie bought for herself a very expensive dress. It was black and halter-necked leaving her back bare to the waist and it was long. She bought black suede shoes and Hetty put up her hair and when she came downstairs Sylvester whistled.
Annie was fairly comfortable about going out with Blake. They were sleeping together every night though they barely touched and she was asleep when he left for work and once that week she had been in bed and asleep when he came home but it made it possible for her to smile at him now.
They drove to Newcastle and as soon as they got there Annie began to enjoy herself. They drank champagne. The people he introduced her to were interesting to talk to. She danced with all the men so it was late when they finally danced together. Annie thought that she only had to close her eyes to be sixteen again dancing with him in the village hall at home except that she thought he danced even better now and when it was late and they drove home it was just like coming home with Alistair had been, talking everybody over, discussing the dinner and the conversation and the night.
It was very late when they got back and everybody had gone to bed. They went into the drawing room where the fire was still on and after he had put a couple of logs on to it they sat down on the big sofa there and drank brandy together.
‘Blake . . .’
‘What?’
‘The dress . . . it was very expensive.’
‘Was it?’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘It’s a devastating dress. Every man who danced with you tried to reach as far as he could with his fingertips.’
Annie laughed.
‘You noticed?’
‘It was difficult to miss.’
He put down his brandy and he took her glass from her and then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was a good kiss too, Annie thought greedily. And he reached up and undid the halter and the dress slipped down to her waist.
‘You’ve wanted to do that all evening, haven’t you?’ Annie said.
‘Wasn’t that why you wore it?’
She was at home here. This was what happened after dances. During the war when Alistair was not at home so much the dance was just an interruption, just a way of delaying the feel and taste of him but it was not like that any more. There was plenty of time, time for him to inch down her clothes and kiss her all over her body and for her to talk to him softly into his ear and unbutton his shirt and slide her hands inside his clothing. It had always been good, it would always be, it didn’t change like that and nothing else mattered now.
He eased her down on to the rug in front of the fire and by its light she caught a glimpse of his fair hair and the world crashed.
‘Alistair . . .’ she murmured and he stopped. Annie couldn’t see him very well after that for the tears but she was aware that he went from passion to anger in a few seconds.
‘No, it’s not Alistair,’ he said slowly. ‘You never use my name when we’re alone. Everybody else that I know does. Go on, say it.’ He gave her a little shake.
‘David.’
‘You remember it? I am sick and tired of hearing his name on your lips. On Saturday night I just wasn’t him and now you think I am!’
‘It wasn’t. It wasn’t. It was just because . . . it was just with going out like that and dancing and having a few drinks and then coming back and . . .’
‘Like this?’
‘Exactly like this, yes. Exactly.’ The tears spilled. There seemed to be a bucketful of them as though they had been welling there all week.
‘So, I’m like my brother, too much like him for you to distinguish the difference tonight but not enough like him so that you would give yourself freely to me on our wedding night.’
‘I didn’t mean to . . .’
He looked at her in disgust and then he got up and picked up his clothes and went to bed and left her there. She thought she heard him slam the bedroom door, even from downstairs.
Thirty six
Being Blake’s wife was the hardest way that Annie had ever lived. He was rarely at home and when he was he worked most of the time and he was bad-tempered except with the children. He left for the shipyard early and came back late and they rarely spoke about anything other than mundane matters and they never slept together at all.
Annie had hoped that they might go to Western Isle some time in the first half of December but they didn’t because each weekend they were invited to go out and at hotels and at other people’s homes she was obliged to wear expensive dresses and look her best and smile and be nice and it was exhausting. She came to hate dinners and dancing where people ate too much and laughed too much and smoked and drank too much. Blake rarely danced with her unless he had to and it seemed that everywhere they went Pauline Kington, like Mary’s little lamb, was sure to be there. It snowed early. Blake built snowmen and had snowball fights with the children. Annie starting drinking gin as she had done after Alistair died, to blot out the evenings. Her main desire at these times was just to go home and crawl under the covers.
She grew homesick for the dale and for the old life now that she knew it would never happen again and she was frightened in case it snowed too much and they would not be able to go back to Western Isle for months. Blake wanted to buy Susan a pony for Christmas. Annie protested.
‘I’ve already bought all kinds of things for her and she’s having dancing lessons. Sylvester is talking about buying a piano in case she wants piano lessons. My daughter is about as musical as I am, she doesn’t need all these things and I don’t want you to buy her a pony. We never go to Western Isle.’
‘I thought we’d go for Christmas or just after.’
‘Promise me, Blake, no pony. I won’t have you and Sylvester spoiling my child.’
‘That’s going to make life very awkward.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m buying Anthony one.’
‘What makes you think he likes horses?’
‘Everybody likes horses.’
‘I think he’d rather have a train set.’
‘He’s getting a train set as well. Sylvester’s buying it.’
Annie gave up. Every Friday and Saturday night they went out. She wore long dresses, low-necked, strapless and wide to show off her shoulders and neat waist. She had two fur stoles and half a dozen pairs of sandals. Annie was always dancing. But when they came home she went straight to bed. Whether he stayed downstairs and drank brandy by himself she didn’t know.
He bought her rubies for Christmas. The stones in the ring were so rich that Annie felt obliged to take off the small sapphire ring and wear that instead. There was also a bracelet, a slender gold circle with a ruby and two diamonds, and a necklace, a gold chain with a single ruby and diamond. They were so beautiful that Annie hated them.
It snowed before they set off for Western Isle but nobody could deny the children the sight of their ponies that day. There was already quite a bit of snow which had fallen two days earlier and people had been pleased to have a white Christmas. The roads were clear at first but when they got past Durham and into the dale the snow began again. Nobody minded. They were planning to stay at Western Isle all week so being blocked in there didn’t matter and when they arrived and it was a blizzard they tumbled into the house and lit the fires and had a drink and began the dinner. Hetty had cooked the turkey overnight and brought the Christmas puddings with her so all they had to do was the vegetables. Annie helped her with that. Sylvester was busy building a Meccano empire with Anthony and Blake went out to the stables with Susan, promising that she should have her first ride as soon as the snow stopped.
It didn’t stop and when Blake and Susan came in at last regretfully from the stable Anthony had been sitting by the fire for a long time with a pencil and paper. He had showed no interest in the pony, all he had wanted to do was come inside. Blake had said nothing but Annie could feel his disappointment. She took the little boy in with her and she thought back to Charles Vane and Alistair and shivered.
When Blake did come into the drawing-room she thought it a good idea to make a point.
‘If you’d bought him charcoal pencils and a drawing pad for Christmas it would have been sufficient,’ she said as the children ran into the kitchen for some of Hetty’s trifle. She sat down on the arm of Blake’s chair and shoved under his nose the drawing his son had completed.
‘Look at that. Look how good it is.’
‘He’s only a child. Who can tell what he might be.’
‘Are you denying that he has talent?’
‘Annie, he’d be a lot better off getting some fresh air and exercise instead of sitting inside by the fire every day of his holidays, drawing houses.’
‘It isn’t just any house, it’s Western Isle.’
‘Don’t you think we have enough drawings of Western Isle?’
‘He doesn’t need to go away, he can go to school here. Don’t you want to watch him grow up, see him every day?’
‘I don’t want him to be like me.’
‘He’s not like you. Susan’s more like you. He could go to art school—’
‘Art school? Annie, I have half a dozen businesses—’
‘Have you any idea who you sound like? You sound like your father,’ Annie said.
‘I am not like him. Don’t say things like that to me. I thought you of all people would understand. People have to live, they have a living to make, they need money before they need anything else. Alistair could afford to indulge himself because his father was well-off, because his grandfather had been a clever man but you know it’s only one generation out of so many that can do it and do you know how they do it? With other people’s sweat, that’s how. They indulge themselves because other people have worked.’
‘Alistair was good—’
‘Lots of people are good, Annie, but it’s a buyer’s market. The world is full of people who are not quite brilliant. There isn’t enough room up there for them all. Some of them have to work for their living instead, get their hands dirty—’
‘I don’t know how you can talk about Alistair like that.’
‘I’m not talking about Alistair though as far as you are concerned it’s all that matters, Alistair’s child and Alistair’s ability. Even Anthony looks like Alistair and is talented like Alistair and can’t be sent away to school because he’s sensitive like Alistair.’
‘Stop it,’ Annie said, getting up and moving well away. ‘You think you’re so clever but if it hadn’t been for Irene how far would your cleverness have got you, eh? You could still have been a miner like a lot of other clever men who have brains and no opportunity—’
‘That’s why I want an education for my son so that he can go as far as his ability will take him.’
‘He can do that without being sent away,’ Annie said.
‘I don’t agree.’
‘You can’t send him away, you just can’t.’
‘Why can’t I?’
‘Because you’ve lost so many people you loved. You haven’t had the time to spend with them. He loves you so much, Blake and he’s only a little boy. Don’t send him away. Time is all we have, it’s all we’re meant to have. We’re meant to know that, to see it, not take things for granted and think there will always be another time, another day. There won’t. You should know that better than anybody. All we have is now. Please don’t send him away.’
‘What do you want me to do, leave him here with you so that you can make him into a Mammy’s boy?’
‘It’s one thing nobody could accuse you of, you cold bastard!’
She fired at him the first thing which came to hand from the small table nearby. It was a costly Chinese ornament. It skimmed past his face and broke against the wall. The telephone was ringing insistently.
Hetty came in just then.
‘I thought you might like some . . .’ and then she stopped because she saw the vase. ‘What happened?’ she said.
‘Annie threw it at me,’ Blake said and he got up and went into the hall to answer the telephone. Annie sank down into the nearest armchair and cried.
‘Oh, God, Hetty,’ she said, ‘he’s just like the old man was. I’ll end up like Mrs Vane, arranging flowers and doing as I’m told.’
‘Oh dear,’ Hetty said, cuddling her, ‘I don’t think it’s quite that bad.’
‘He wanted me to be Irene and I’m not and I wanted him to be Alistair and he’s anything but. It wasn’t a good idea, Hetty, this getting married. I can’t love him and he certainly doesn’t love me. Last time we went to a dinner dance he danced with every woman in the party except me, and he dances so well,’ and Annie found a handkerchief in her pocket and blew her nose. ‘I trod on everybody’s toes I was so inept.
And he wants to send Anthony away. How am I going to stop him?’
Sylvester came in then. He stopped and frowned at the broken vase.
‘I’m sorry, Sylvester. I threw it at Blake.’
‘Couldn’t you have thrown something else at him?’ Sylvester said. ‘Something from Woolworths perhaps?’
‘Do you have anything from Woolworths?’
‘No, I don’t believe we have,’ he said, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
* * *
Blake came back in.
‘That was Tommy on the phone. He wants me to go up to Sunniside. Elsie and Ron have had to go to Alston, his father’s not good and they can’t get back. He’s got too much to do to go there himself. He just wants me to see to the animals. I’ll not be long.’
Annie would have gone after him but Sylvester stopped her.
‘He shouldn’t go by himself,’ she protested. ‘He’s never been back there. Tommy’s so stupid, he doesn’t understand.’
* * *
Before Blake got halfway there the snow had turned into a blizzard and the day was dark. He stopped when he came in sight of the house but only momentarily. The animals needed feeding, he didn’t have to stay long, he didn’t even have to go inside the house.
It took him quite a long time to get there, the wind behind the snow was against him and he was walking uphill. When he reached the house it was almost impossible to see anything and he was numb with cold. He couldn’t have gone inside anyway, the house was locked up. Just getting inside the buildings with the warmth of the animals was such a relief that he stood for a minute or so to brush the snow off his face before he started with the task he had come for. It took him a long time. He was almost finished when he heard a voice behind him and when he turned around a small snowman had walked into the barn. He could see nothing but her eyes.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he said.
‘I was worried about you.’
‘Worried about me?’
‘I’m too cold to talk. Can we go inside?’
‘It’s locked up.’
‘Elsie keeps the key under a stone.’
They found the key. Inside the little house the fire was banked down in the sitting-room but Blake brought that to life and put wood on it. The kitchen was warm from the Rayburn. Annie found dry clothes for them and she gave Blake his and went off into the little sitting-room to change. He made some tea and they sat by the fire and drank it gratefully.
‘You shouldn’t have come. You could have got lost in this.’
‘I didn’t want you to be here by yourself.’
‘Why ever not? I used to live here.’
‘I thought you might start thinking about things when you got here.’
‘Like what?’ Blake said roughly.
‘Your grandfather and your grandmother and Bessie.’
Blake looked down into his teacup for a second and then he said, ‘It was the hardest thing of all, leaving her. I found my grandfather dead in the top field and watched them take my grandmother away in an ambulance knowing that she probably wouldn’t come back but leaving Bessie here that was the hardest thing. Isn’t that funny? I watched out of the back window of the car until I couldn’t see her any more. I never saw her again. I couldn’t even tell her. But Bessie was the only one who got to stay really, who never had to leave.’
‘You came back.’
‘I didn’t want to come back but I couldn’t tell that to Tommy—’
‘Tommy’s so stupid,’ Annie said.
‘Do Elsie and Ron like it here?’
‘It’s not big enough. Ron’s father is going to help them buy something bigger – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.’
‘Why shouldn’t you? It’s true, it was never much of a farm. I should know.’
‘We’re going to have to stay the night, you know.’
‘No, we’re not.’
‘Blake, it’s a white-out, I cannot walk all that way in the blizzard.’
‘I’m not staying here. You shouldn’t have come.’
‘I thought you might be upset about having to come back.’
‘I was very happy here until my grandfather died.’
‘Then why don’t you want to stay the night?’
‘I just don’t, that’s all. I want to go back and spend Christ-mas night with the children and Hetty and Sylvester. This place is freezing and there’s only one decent-sized bedroom since you and Alistair crucified the other one for the sake of a bathroom—’
‘We did not!’
‘Yes, you did. I was born in that room. My mother was, my grandfather, God knows how many Blakes before that. What did you have to go and spoil it for?’
‘It isn’t your place!’
‘It’ll always be my place. I’ll probably come back and die here.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘It isn’t horrible at all, it’s what things are all about, at least until the bloody Vanes spoil everything.’
‘You’re a bloody Vane.’
‘I am not!’
‘And your son is. I’ve never seen anybody look more like a Vane.’
‘Don’t talk about it,’ Blake said, getting to his feet.
‘We can sleep down here,’ Annie said, ‘we can take blankets and pillows off the bed.’
‘There’s nothing to eat and there’s probably nothing to
drink.’
‘There’s plenty to eat and there’s a bottle of whisky in the kitchen, I saw it.’ Annie went off to the kitchen and came back with the whisky and two glasses. She poured out the golden liquid and then looked at him.
‘I’m sorry about earlier, shouting at you and about the vase.’
‘It doesn’t matter to me about the vase. It was Sylvester’s.’
‘I did apologise to him.’
‘I really don’t know how you missed me. You should learn to take aim before you fire.’