For Better For Worse (22 page)

‘Would you take Annie’s things upstairs for her,’ she asked, ‘and then please join us in the sitting room.’

Sarah, tight-lipped and pink with irritation, climbed the stairs with Annie’s luggage and put everything in the front bedroom. The bed had a grey counterpane and a flowery eiderdown, although it would be hardly needed in this lovely warm centrally heated house. Kaye had found a low chair in the attic, and with a beige throw over it, you would never know that the fabric underneath was in desperate need of repair and attention. Sarah had a keen eye for detail, so there were flowers on the chest of drawers and a pretty runner across the bedside table. The baby would have to sleep in a deep drawer for the time being, until they could find a second-hand bassinet for him. When she’d prepared the drawer, Sarah had thought of cutting up an old blanket and making it into baby blankets, but that was a bridge too far. Although she had spent the past week preparing for the newcomers and everything looked really nice, now that Annie and her baby were here, she couldn’t hide her resentment. She put the suitcases on the floor and went back downstairs.

‘I was so sure my father would love him when he saw him,’ Annie was saying as Sarah walked into the sitting room with a tray of tea. ‘But he steadfastly refuses to see him.’ She looked up and Annie’s jaw dropped. ‘You!’

‘Yes me,’ said Sarah coldly. ‘We’re all here.’

Annie dabbed her eyes and looked at Kaye. ‘I don’t understand. My mother never told me
she
would be here as well.’

Sarah felt herself bristle. Kaye busied herself with the teapot. ‘Does it matter?’ she said calmly.

‘Of course it matters,’ Annie spat. ‘That woman ruined my life.’

Sarah had stuck her nose in the air and was on her way out of the room when she stopped in her tracks. ‘I ruined
your
life,’ she said, turning to face Annie. ‘You were the one who made off with my husband.’

‘I didn’t know he was married,’ Annie cried. ‘He thought you’d divorced him. I’d known Henry for almost three months before we were married.’

‘It takes longer than that to get a divorce, you silly cow.’

Lottie made a strange noise.

‘Girls …’ Kaye stood to her feet.

‘That’s not my fault,’ Annie whined. ‘And anyway, who are you calling a silly cow?’

‘Me and my children were left destitute because of you,’ said Sarah, her eyes blazing. She advanced towards Annie, her chin jutted forward. ‘We ended up facing a night in a wayside shelter.’

‘I can’t help that!’ Annie shouted. The baby woke up and started crying. ‘Now look what you’ve done.’

‘More to the point,’ Sarah snarled, ‘look what
you’ve
done. If you hadn’t run off with my husband …’

‘Girls, please …’ said Kaye.

‘That’s rich coming from you,’ Annie retorted as she bent to pick the baby up from the sofa. ‘You did exactly the same thing to her.’

She jerked her head towards Kaye and Sarah froze. It was then that they all became aware of Lottie. She was acutely distressed, rocking herself backwards and forwards in the chair with her hands over her ears and making little grunting sounds. Kaye sat on the arm of her chair and put her hand around Lottie’s shoulders. ‘It’s all right, darling,’ she said soothingly. ‘They’ve stopped now.’ She looked up at the two women. ‘She can’t bear arguments. Sarah, show Annie to her room, and when you’ve settled the baby, I want you both down here. I’m taking Lottie up to bed.’

‘You needn’t think I’m staying here,’ said Annie.

‘And where do you think you’re going at this time of night?’ said Kaye, helping Lottie to her feet. ‘You’ve just told me that your father won’t hear of you going home.’

Annie pouted like a petulant child as Sarah led the way to her room and left her and the baby to it. She climbed the back stairs to her own little sitting room and threw herself into the chair. She was shaking, she felt hot and she was furious. Everything had been fine up until now. What on earth was Kaye thinking, having that silly schoolgirl in the house? She cried a little then washed her face. Thankfully, her children had heard nothing of their argument. They were asleep, Jenny with her face slightly flushed. Sarah picked up a toy and tucked the blanket around Lu-Lu’s bare shoulders and then went back downstairs.

As she walked into the sitting room, Sarah gave Annie a frosty glare. Annie was warming herself by the fire. Although there were plenty of chairs and a sofa nearer the fire, Sarah sat stiffly on a high-backed chair next to the Chinese cabinet behind the door. She wanted to be as far away from Annie as she could.

‘I just don’t understand it,’ said Annie over her shoulder. ‘Why is she doing this?’

Sarah shrugged. The rage she’d felt a while ago had dissipated, but she was in no mood to be friendly. She didn’t even want to look at Annie. Feeling snubbed, Annie turned her back.

A few minutes later, the door burst open and Kaye, a cigarette dangling from between her lips, reappeared with two bottles of red wine. ‘Get us some glasses, will you Sarah,’ she said. ‘I have a feeling we’re all going to need this.’

With the glasses in front of her, Kaye poured the wine and handed them around, then with a swish of her midnight-blue taffeta skirt, she sank into the armchair. Sarah moved back to the upright chair and Annie stared blankly ahead.

‘I met Henry when I was seventeen,’ Kaye began. As she spoke, she was looking deep into her glass and swirling the wine against the sides. ‘He was so charming, so attentive. I hadn’t met anyone like that before. We had a brief courtship and then we married. My folks weren’t invited … some mix-up with the invitations he said.’

Annie shifted herself uncomfortably in her seat.

‘Sound familiar?’ Kaye smiled. ‘I remember your testimony in court being very similar.’ Annie said nothing.

‘I had a white wedding, although I wasn’t a virgin.’ Kaye’s candour was a bit embarrassing, but already the atmosphere in the room was changing. Although Sarah and Annie remained silent, the angry tension of an hour ago was already slackening.

‘I was already pregnant when we married and my baby was stillborn,’ said Kaye. Her voice was toneless but somehow it didn’t hide the agony of her loss. ‘I was very ill, not expected to live at one point, but Henry was the model husband.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Sarah murmured.

Kaye didn’t acknowledge her concern. ‘In the end,’ she said, first dragging on her cigarette and then taking a great gulp of wine, ‘I had to have a hysterectomy, so no more babies for me. Henry was very disappointed and I felt that I had let him down badly.’

It was Sarah’s turn to feel a little uncomfortable. Hadn’t she felt like that? By having two girls when he was so desperate for a son, she had let Henry down as well. ‘Kaye …’ Sarah began, but Kaye put her hand up.

‘Henry only ever wanted three things. Bizarrely, his first love was a coffee crunch, the second, smart clothes, and thirdly, he’d always wanted a son,’ she continued, ‘but you both knew that, didn’t you?’

Embarrassed, Sarah looked away as she put her wine glass to her lips. ‘He was disappointed that we didn’t have a son,’ she said quietly.

‘Well, he’s got his son now,’ Annie simpered and Sarah glared at her.

‘We were happy for almost four years,’ Kaye went on. ‘When I found out that he had other women, I hated it, but I always prided myself that he came back to me.’ She blew the smoke from her cigarette above her head. ‘Henry wasn’t easy to get along with, and after seeing him in that courtroom, he doesn’t seemed to have changed much. He always was very pernickety and spent a fortune on his suits, though where the money came from, I never knew. Everything had to be done just the way he wanted and he got very angry if I forgot something.’

Annie cleared her throat and took a mouthful of wine. She knew how that felt. Hadn’t he been angry with her the day the police came? How could she forget it? She looked down at the glass in her hand. She’d never had wine before. It was heady and strong, but not an unpleasant taste.

‘He started telling me what to wear,’ Kaye continued. ‘I didn’t mind of course because I always thought Henry knew best.’ She emptied her glass and walked around with the bottle topping up the others. She paused by the fireside to throw on another log. The fire crackled and spat as the flames took hold. Back in her chair, Kaye resumed her narrative. ‘When he finally left me in November 1938 I was totally lost. I’m a strong woman, I know that now, but back then I didn’t know what to do. I had no idea how to pay the bills or where I would find the rent money. How was I going to survive? He’d left me with absolutely nothing, of course. I couldn’t access the bank account even though it was a joint account. The bank would only accept his name on the cheque.’

November 1938, thought Sarah. That was around the time she’d met Henry and they’d married only four months later. Kaye’s story was familiar, more than familiar. Kaye’s story was her story.

‘Of course, I had to get out of our marital home in Chichester,’ Kaye went on with a sigh. ‘I had to sell all my lovely things for a song and start all over again.’

Annie emptied her glass in one go. Sarah stared somewhere into the middle distance. It seemed that Henry was a serial husband. He had done exactly the same thing to each one of them.

‘That,’ said Kaye, breaking into their thoughts again, ‘was when I had my first stroke of luck. The war came along and other people’s misfortune became my good fortune. I joined the Women’s Timber Corps. Lumber Jills they called us, and I loved it. I had a roof over my head and I could be outdoors, far away from falling bombs and air-raid shelters.’ She smiled to herself. ‘By that time I had my own place, but I moved from there to a hut in the forest. We worked mainly in the Forest of Dean and the New Forest cutting down twenty-five-year-old conifers. I was what they called a snedder. I had to chop all the bits off the trunk with a billhook so that it was ready to go to the sawmill. It was damned hard work, but it helped me to pull myself together and realise that I was perfectly capable of being without Henry.’

She stood up again to replenish their glasses. Both Sarah and Annie seemed more relaxed, but neither of them made eye contact with her.

‘I’m sure my story is familiar,’ said Kaye, sitting down. ‘There’s a pattern, d’you see? For people like Henry, it’s all about control.’

‘Not for me it isn’t,’ said Annie, lifting her head defiantly. ‘When he gets out of prison, Henry is coming for me and we’re going to make a proper life together for our son.’

Kaye smiled at her. ‘He’ll be glad you’ve given him a boy,’ she conceded, ‘but as for the rest, I’m not so sure. I hope you won’t be disappointed because there’s no telling with Henry.’

‘All I can say is that you don’t know Henry like I do,’ Annie retorted.

Irritated, Sarah glared at her again. Silly little prig.

‘You’re probably right,’ said Kaye, sounding far more gracious that Sarah felt. ‘But then I never did manage to give him what he wanted.’

Nor did I, thought Sarah. They fell silent and sipped their wine.

‘Okay, so you’ve made us face up to the fact that Henry does this all the time, but why are you doing this?’ Sarah asked tetchily. ‘Why have you got us all together? What’s the point?’

‘I can see that I’ve made you angry,’ said Kaye. Embarrassed, Sarah looked away. ‘Oh, it’s all right to be angry,’ Kaye went on. ‘It was never my intention, but I think we’re all going to have to deal with some very confused emotions.’ She emptied the first bottle of wine. ‘You see, I met someone during the war,’ she began again. ‘I loved him dearly, but it took me a long time to realise that I was too afraid to have another relationship. I suppose I kept worrying that he might turn out like Henry. I didn’t realise it at the time but I was emotionally crippled.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with my emotions,’ Annie snapped.

Sarah chewed the inside of her mouth anxiously. Was that why she couldn’t allow herself to get too close to Peter Millward? Was she emotionally crippled too? Anyway, what on earth had that got to do with living together with Henry’s two other wives?

‘I let the man go,’ Kaye went on, ‘but then I had my second stroke of luck.’ She waved her hand. ‘This house and an unexpected legacy. It put me well and truly on my feet again and has given me the chance to carry on with my passion for writing.’

‘Who do you write for?’ asked Annie, suddenly interested.

‘Plays, mainly,’ said Kaye, ‘but I’ve just been commissioned to write another one for the BBC.’

‘The BBC?’ cried Annie, clearly impressed. ‘That’s amazing.’

‘The point is,’ said Kaye, looking directly at Annie, ‘when I saw the two of you in the courtroom that day, I wanted you to have the same chances.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t write a word,’ said Annie.

‘You misunderstand …’ Kaye began.

‘You mean you planned all this?’ Sarah asked incredulously.

Kaye stood up to open the second bottle of wine. ‘No, not at all. How could I, but when I saw you, I liked you. That drive back to Worthing put an idea into my head and when I realised that my aunt couldn’t be left, I thought of you and, as it turned out, you needed a stroke of luck too.’

‘You needn’t worry about me,’ said Annie. ‘I shall only be here until Henry gets out of prison.’

Sarah pursed her lips angrily. She wanted to smack her one. Why did the silly girl keep banging on about it?

‘I know it won’t be easy,’ said Kaye, filling each glass again, ‘but if you stay here, Sarah, you’d be doing me a great favour, and Annie, you’d get to keep your baby.’

‘So let me get this right,’ said Sarah cynically. ‘All you want is to give both of us the chance to gain our independence?’ She didn’t believe for one second that was the only reason. Kaye was setting herself up as Lady Bountiful, but there had to be a catch somewhere … there always was.

‘That’s the whole idea,’ said Kaye. ‘Being alone would be difficult, but with the three of us working together it should be a lot easier. We’d help each other.’ She sat back down and Sarah frowned, puzzled. ‘Think of it as a sort of co-operative.’

‘The Henry’s wives co-op?’ Sarah muttered. This was crazy, bizarre …