Abby brought her gaze from the snowy fields beyond the car window and smiled a little absently.
‘Funny,’ Wilbert rattled on, trying to do his best, ‘but I could never see you living anywhere else than our parts, but here you are in Yorkshire with your own business an’ all.’ He shook his head in wonder. ‘All I can say, lass, is that whatever went on between you and James you ended up smelling of roses.’
‘James?’ Wilbert had her full attention now. Her brother was one of the nicest people on earth and she was shocked he could bring James’s name up at such a moment. And there had been something in his tone she couldn’t put her finger on.
‘Aye, James Benson.’ Wilbert looked embarrassed at her reaction. ‘Oh, I’m not prying, don’t think that, I’m just saying that whatever went on between you two, you’ve done as well as him in the end.’
For a moment Abby didn’t speak; then, looking at him, she said, ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Wilbert.’
Wilbert stretched his neck, easing the starched collar of his shirt. ‘I mean him marrying that lass whose da owns the big accountancy firm in the High Street, I forget the name. I saw them at the Palace one night a few months back when I’d just started courting Lucy, and when I said I thought I knew the bloke, she said she’d worked in the firm as a temp in the typing pool for a while and that his name was Benson and the woman was his wife.’
Abby felt weak and faint. She swallowed, knowing she had to say something. But she couldn’t.
‘Still, like I said, you’ve done right grand for yourself, lass, and your Ike is a champion fella.’
She managed a mumbled, ‘Yes, yes he is.’
‘An’ I like his folks an’ all. I thought they might be a bit stuck up, them being well off and Americans an’ all that, but they’re salt of the earth. Like him.’
‘Yes, they are. Wilbert, I’ve . . . got a bit of a headache. Could we just sit quiet until we get there?’
‘Aye, lass, of course. You should have said.’ Wilbert patted her hand and settled back in his seat.
By the time the taxi reached its destination Abby knew she had to have a few more minutes to compose herself. In spite of her request, Wilbert had talked on and off the whole way and her head was whirling. Nearly everyone was waiting inside the building but Audrey had stayed outside, and now she came running to meet them, her face one big smile which faded when she saw the expression on Abby’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’ In one of the characteristic gestures Abby remembered, her aunt unceremoniously thrust Wilbert to one side. ‘You feeling bad?’
Abby nodded. She was feeling bad but not from nerves as her aunt probably assumed. ‘Have they got a lavatory here? I need a couple of minutes . . .’
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Before the taxi bearing the others had even arrived, Audrey had whisked her into the building and into the Ladies which, thankfully, turned out to be one small cubicle which meant her aunt had to wait outside. After closing the door and sliding the bolt, Abby stood with her back to it, her hand covering her eyes, and she whispered to herself, ‘James, James, how could you?’ He was alive.
Alive.
And married to someone else. All the time she had been grieving and mourning him he had been
alive
.
She stared at the wall sightlessly, dry-eyed, but she was crying through every pore of her body. He had come back from the war and he had married someone else. It seemed ludicrous, impossible, but she didn’t question the truth of Wilbert’s words; he wouldn’t have spoken out like he had if he’d been unsure of his facts. She felt herself shrinking, shrivelling down to nothing.
She was never very sure of how long she stood there but after a while Audrey’s voice penetrated the vacuum and she forced herself to come back to the present. She called out that she was nearly ready, opening her eyes which had been tightly shut and staring at herself in the small square mirror. A chalk-white face with eyes so dark they appeared black looked back at her. Automatically she began to pinch her cheeks and bite her lips to give herself some colour, a strange calmness settling on her.
Ike was waiting for her in there and he had all his nearest and dearest watching, along with her family. Whatever she was feeling she had to act the eager bride right now, nothing else would do. And nothing had changed, not really. James was still gone from her as he had been the last few years, it was just the reason for his absence which had altered. She breathed deeply, watching the figure in the mirror with curious detachment. There was a weak sensation churning through her but she would not give in to it, she told herself dully. This was her wedding day and Ike deserved a radiant bride. Well, she would be radiant, she would laugh and glow and shine all day long. For him. For her Ike.
She adjusted the collar of the cloak so it fell more closely round her upswept hair, pinched her cheeks one last time and then, stitching a smile on her face, she opened the door.
Chapter Twenty-five
I
ke turned round to look at her when she entered the room and walked with Wilbert between the two sets of waiting families. The love shining out of his eyes carried her through the brief but pleasant ceremony and the reception at the hotel with every appearance of enjoyment.
And she had enjoyed it in a way, she told herself later in the afternoon during a lull in the proceedings. It was the first time she’d had a moment to herself; everyone seemed to be in conversation or watching Ike doing a little impromptu ventriloquist act for his sister’s four young children with some puppets the youngsters had brought with them. As long as she didn’t let her mind veer off for a second and concentrated wholly on what she could see and hear, she was all right. Thinking, remembering, could come later. Much later.
‘He’ll be a natural when your bairns come along.’
Abby hadn’t noticed Ivor come up behind her but now he sat down at the side of her, his eyes on Ike and the children. It was a full ten seconds before she said, ‘Yes, he will make a wonderful father.’ Her voice was stiff.
‘Meself, I was never much good with ours when they were little, couldn’t get on their wavelength I suppose, but he’s got ’em in the palm of his hand, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes he has.’
‘Audrey was like that with the lads. They thought the world of their mam, still do, but then she’s that sort of woman. Draws folk, always has done.’
Oh, the hypocrisy of him. The hurt and pain she had been battling with all day rose up like a ball into her throat. She turned her head, staring into the face she had been trying to ignore. ‘I’m a little surprised you didn’t add “like her sister”,’ she said icily.
‘What?’
‘You heard.’
Ivor was looking at her but he did not speak again. Abby waited for a moment before she said, ‘You don’t deny it then?’
‘Deny what?’
‘That you went with my mother.’
Saints alive! She knew. But then hadn’t he suspected it at the bottom of him? She’d been so reserved with him, so distant, and the way he’d caught her looking at him once or twice . . . Damn it, why hadn’t he stayed where he was instead of coming to sit beside her? ‘It . . .’ His voice broke and he had to clear his throat before he could say, ‘It isn’t like you think, Abby.’
‘You have no idea what I think.’ Her voice was low and controlled. ‘You couldn’t or you would have made some excuse to go home before now.’
He straightened in his chair. For this to come out now, at her wedding. But maybe it was the best time at that. At least she was keeping her voice down. He glanced swiftly round the room. Audrey was in a far corner talking to someone or other from Ike’s side, with her back partially to them. He breathed in deeply, his voice little more than a whisper when he said, ‘Look, lass, let me explain. I got meself in a fix. Your mam, well, she tricked me—’
‘Time and time again over a period of years she tricked you?’ It was scathing but still quiet. ‘You’re easily duped then. Or stupid. Or both.’
‘Now look—’ He caught himself, lowering his voice again which now held a fawning quality. ‘I can understand how you feel and it’s only natural—’
‘Don’t talk to me about natural, not when you’ve gone with your own wife’s sister and given her three bairns into the bargain. But let me tell you something, my da might not have been my flesh-and-blood father but he was my da in every way that counted.’
Ivor’s mouth dropped open. ‘Who told you that, about me being . . .’
‘My father? And Wilbert and Clara’s? The same person who told me about your affair. My mam, of course. And before you deny it, I know she wasn’t lying so save your breath.’
Ivor wetted his lips, then dug his teeth tight into the flesh of the lower one and bent his head. Staring at his boots, he said, ‘I didn’t know. I swear to you, lass, I didn’t know, not afore this day.’
‘Because you didn’t want to know.’ It was a statement not a question. ‘My mam and da had been married years with no sign of a child and then you came along.’ It was bitter. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t wonder.’
‘No. Yes. I mean . . .’ He shook his head, his shoulders hunched. ‘She didn’t say. Your mam didn’t say.’
‘And you didn’t ask, but then you wouldn’t, would you? Why ruin the novelty of having your cake and eating it?’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
Silence reigned for a moment, then Ivor said, ‘What are you going to do?’ When Abby didn’t answer, he turned his head slowly towards her. ‘Look, your aunt knows about me an’ your mam and we’ve put it behind us, all right? Made a new start like. But if you tell her . . .’ His lower jaw worked. ‘It’ll break her, you see that, don’t you? And what good would it do, eh? Tell me that. What good would it do?’
‘Perhaps I don’t care about that.’
‘You care about your Aunty Audrey, you always have done.’ When she did not deny this, he added, ‘You told Wilbert or Clara about this?’
‘If I had, Wilbert would have bashed your face in.’
‘Please, Abby,’ he pleaded. ‘Please let sleeping dogs lie. Your da was your da, I’d be the first to say it. Whether he actually . . .’ He paused before continuing, ‘It don’t matter, not that part. It’s the rest of it, the bringing up of bairns that counts.’
‘I know that.’ Her eyes met his for a moment and he saw they were filled with pain. ‘I don’t need you to tell me that.’
Clara danced up at this point and spent a few moments talking to them before Jed came and tapped her on the arm. The pair of them went to help themselves to the hot mince pies and steaming mugs of coffee and cocoa the hotel staff had just brought in as a conclusion to the proceedings.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Ivor asked again. ‘If it’s any consolation, I’ll never forgive meself for what I’ve done, never as long as I live.’
‘It’s no consolation at all,’ Abby said, willing herself not to break down.
Ike caught her eye from across the room. ‘You OK, hon?’ he mouthed, and she smiled, nodding and mouthing back, ‘I’m fine, Dr Wilmot,’ whereupon he grinned and continued the puppet show.
Her throat was tight, too tight to swallow. What was it that made some men, men who had once been honourable and good and kind, men like Ivor and - here Abby found herself taking a long painful breath - James Benson, forget the women they were supposed to love and chase after someone else?
‘I’m sorry. I can’t say more than that, can I? There’s nowt I can do to change things now but your aunty knowing this would, well, it’d turn the knife for her. Surely you can see that?’
This elicited no response from Abby, and after a moment Ivor went on, ‘There’s Wilbert and Clara too. If they don’t know, what’s the point in upsetting them an’ all? It don’t make sense.’
‘Don’t talk to me about sense, not you.’ She stood up. ‘I won’t say anything but only for Aunty Audrey’s sake. She’s had enough to put up with.’
She left him without another word, meeting Ike halfway across the room.
‘That looked like a serious conversation to have with someone on your wedding day, Mrs Wilmot.’ His tone was light, even amused, but there was a question in the dark eyes.
Abby chose to ignore it. She answered just as lightly, ‘Not jealous already, Dr Wilmot? I’ve heard of these men who turn into tyrants the minute they’re wed.’