The Way We Were (9 page)

‘That's the whole point. She could have been a lawyer. Or a doctor,' he answered crossly.

The fact was that Pete wanted to see Liv fulfilling her potential. Julia gave a little shrug: she simply wanted her daughter to be happy.

‘I hope something really special will turn up for her.' she said. ‘I think it's a mistake for her and Chris to be working together. Old relationships can cause problems.'

There was an uncomfortable little silence and Julia wondered if Pete was thinking about Angela. She sought to change the subject.

‘So what do you think about a trip to see Charlie and Jo and the babes?' she asked. ‘In fact, we could see everyone if we make a big effort. What a relief that most of the family live in Hampshire. We could fit it in at the end of the month. What d'you say?'

‘Don't see why not. What about Frobes?'

Julia frowned, considering their very lovable but enormously neurotic flat-coated retriever, Frobisher.

‘I think he's too much for Aunt Em,' she said at last. ‘Those garden steps could be a bit dodgy. Liv might have him again, though she said that Val hadn't been very keen last time. She's not a dog person. Perhaps we'd better take him. He's not much trouble really and he gels on with Charlie's dogs OK.'

‘Fair enough.' He put out a hand and touched her knee. ‘It'll be good to have Caroline and Zack a bit closer, won't it?'

Julia smiled happily. ‘It'll be great.'

1976

Although March is a wild stormy month there are often mild, gentle days when Tiggy and Julia can take the children and the dogs off in the van for wonderful adventures. Bouncing around on the brown moquette-covered bench seat, Charlie wedged in beside them in his pushchair with the dogs at his feet, the twins are ecstatic. They picnic by little fords with tumbling streams, on high cliffs overlooking dramatic seas, and on sandy beaches in the shelter of rocks that demand to be climbed. They paddle in icy, peat-brown moorland water and in sun-warmed rock pools, and jump great green curling waves that foam and sink to nothing in the golden sand. Charlie staggers after them, restrained by Tiggy or Julia on the end of his reins, shouting with frustration or suddenly bewitched by a shell or a snowdrop or some other tiny miracle.

The twins adore the camper. They never tire of swishing the orange curtains to and fro, pretending to sleep in the bunks and helping to make toast on the small cooker. It is a mobile playroom, a little house on wheels, and on each sunny morning they beg to be taken out in it.

‘I must admit that it's the greatest toy ever,' Julia says. ‘They never get bored with it.'

Easter arrives with a freezing wind and a scattering of snow. Unexpected hail showers clatter down, cracking like shot on the granite slabs, and dwarf daffodils the colour of lemon ice gleam in the hedgerows. Then, one April morning of almost Mediterranean warmth, Tiggy drives them to see Tintagel Castle. She's told the twins the legend surrounding the little Merlin, and they often walk on King Arthur's Downs just below the house, but the visit to the castle is rather more special. Tiggy is eager to see the great stronghold on the north coast; she is rereading Mary Stewart's books
The Crystal Cave
and
The Hollow Hills
, and the descriptions of the castle are vivid in her mind.

This morning, for the first time, the child moves within her: a strange butterfly vibration that first puzzles her and then floods her with amazed joy. She goes into the kitchen where Julia is timing the children's eggs and slips her hand into the crook of her arm.

‘The baby moved,' she whispers. ‘I felt it.'

Julia turns swiftly, her face glowing with such inexpressible delight that Tiggy is filled with gratitude and love for her; and they stand together, Julia's elbow pressing Tiggy's hand against her side, sharing in this miracle. Then the twins start up with one of their protests from some earlier injustice,
‘Why
can't we …?' ‘Yes, but
why
can't we … ?' and the moment passes.

They drive through narrow lanes sheltered by high banks of new-flowering gorse, through small villages, where bright-faced camellias flower behind garden walls, through the village of Tintagel looking out towards the bleak cliffs where the gaunt remains of the medieval fortress stand on its high crag. Even on this sunny day, the ruined castle, with its stout walls and steep stone steps, retains all its aura of mystery and power. Yet Merlin's story cannot hold the twins' attention for very long and soon they are asking for something to drink and presently they drive out to the church to eat their picnic on Glebe Cliff in the sunshine.

Later, on the cliff, walking ahead of Julia and the children, with the dogs racing to and fro, Tiggy feels again the movement of her baby, and is seized anew with happiness; these flutterings present her with her first true awareness of the living child and her awe outweighs any of the more familiar fearfulness. Today the aquamarine sea leans gently against the cliffs, its taut, silky surface barely rising and falling, as if it breathes quietly mid-tide, waiting. The warm sweet-scented wind, drifting from the west, washes over Tiggy and she gladly lifts her face to it. Once more she is filled with the certainty that Tom is close to her, that nothing separates them, and then Liv comes panting up behind her, seizing her hand, and the spell is broken.

One day in late April the girls have another visitor. They've slept late after a disturbed night, first with Charlie, who is teething – big double teeth breaking through his tender gums, causing him great anguish – and then by Liv who's had a bad dream and needs a great deal of comforting. In the end they all get up to sit around the kitchen table, Julia's eyes streaming with tears as she yawns and yawns, whilst Tiggy makes tea for everyone, including Charlie. He downs his sweet, weak, beakerful with delight and holds the cup out again, his wet-lashed eyes huge with exhaustion, his cheeks red with the hectic flush of teething.

‘When's Daddy coming home?' Andy asks fretfully – and Tiggy sees Julia's expression, just for one moment as she is caught off guard, and how her mouth turns down exactly like the twins' when they are unhappy.

‘Soon,' says Tiggy quickly, leaning between the twins, smoothing Andy's blond mop of hair as she gives him a biscuit. ‘Very soon. Have you got a picture for him to go with Mummy's next letter?'

She dribbles more tea into Charlie's mug, pours in some milk, adds a small quantity of honey and gives it to him whilst the twins scramble to find their colouring books so as to select a picture.

‘I miss him too,' murmurs Julia, as the twins squabble over the rival merits of their artwork, and Tiggy sees how hard it must be for her with Pete at sea so much. She knows that Julia hates being without him, yet most of the time she is so cheerful and capable that it is easy to forget that she is making a tremendous effort to hide her own particular loneliness and anxiety. Submariners are doing a dangerous job and there has been a rumour, just the faintest whisper, that the boat has been deployed to a Russian anchorage off Libya.

‘There are always rumours,' Julia says after this particular phone call from another anxious wife. ‘Of course Pete never says a word, and quite rightly, but it explains his touchiness. He needs a while to come off the boil when he gets home from most patrols.'

Now, Tiggy pushes the biscuits towards her and Julia grins reluctantly.

‘Wouldn't it be wonderful,' she asks, ‘if we could be four years old again and have all our problems solved by the prospect of a chocolate biscuit?'

In the morning the children are fractious: all through breakfast Charlie grizzles, the twins bicker, and Julia moves about, tripping over the dogs and still yawning ceaselessly. The twins, unable to decide which of their pictures arc worthy to be sent out to Pete, settle down at Tiggy's suggestion to make a drawing of the little Merlin, which is brought down and set before them as a model. It is an ambitious scheme but it keeps them busy while Tiggy chops vegetables for soup and Julia does the washing-up. Charlie, maintaining a steady jabber, makes his way cautiously round the kitchen, clinging to the furniture, until he topples into the dog basket, startling both dogs. The Turk jumps up on to the sofa out of harm's way but Bella simply licks Charlie's face until he explodes with giggles and Julia whisks him up and puts him back, protesting loudly, into his high chair. The twins, distracted from their drawing, begin to bicker again.

‘Maybe we should go down to Deify Bridge and have a paddle.' Tiggy is suggesting, when they hear the sound of a car's engine.

‘Damn!' says Julia wearily. ‘Damn and blast! Who can that be?' She peers from the window. ‘Oh,
no
,' she mutters. She looks cross, even angry, and her cheeks flush pinkly.

Surprised at her reaction, Tiggy joins her at the window. ‘Who is it?' she asks curiously.

‘It's Angela Lisburne and the ghastly Catriona.' Julia keeps her voice down lest the twins should overhear. ‘Angela's husband, Martin, was with Pete on
Orestes
and since then she's absolutely determined that we need to be best friends.' Julia ducks back so that Angela won't see her. ‘Her family's known Pete's for ever and she had a bit of a thing with Pete when they were both quite young. She doesn't like me – or him – to forget it. And Cat is such a spiteful child. We all try to like her but she makes it very difficult. She always manages to upset Charlie or the twins somehow.'

Tiggy feels a strong surge of partisanship for Julia. Already she dislikes Angela, and she cranes to get a better look at the young woman who has climbed out of her car and is now releasing a small girl from her chair on the back seat. She lifts her out and tries to set her down but the child clings, her legs firmly wrapped about Angela's waist. Julia heaves a sigh, combs her fingers through her hair and goes out into the hall; Tiggy waits in the kitchen, listening. The twins, who are now playing with the dogs, seem to sense the quality of the silence and look up.

‘Where's Mummy gone?' asks Liv, her arms round Bella's silky brown neck. Bella pants, smiling fatuously in her embrace; her long spaniel ears fall down over Liv's arms like thick curling plaits.

‘Angela's here.' Voices can be heard in the hall and Tiggy keeps her voice low. ‘Angela and Catriona.'

Andy makes a face; he screws up his nose in distaste. ‘We don't like Cat. She's horrid. We hate her, don't we, Liv?'

Liv nods, hugging Bella even tighter. ‘She's a silly baby. Scaredy Cat.'

Before Tiggy can remonstrate, the door opens and Julia comes in followed by Angela with Cat clinging to her, limpet-like.

‘This is Angela, Tiggy' says Julia in a bright, hostessy voice. ‘And this is Cat.'

‘Hi, Angela.' says Tiggy. ‘Hello, Cat.'

Angela smiles a greeting but the child merely buries her head in her mother's shoulder and takes a renewed grip with her knees.

‘She's shy,' says Angela. ‘Aren't you, little Cat? Look, pussycat, there are Andy and Liv. Aren't you going to say “Hello”?'

She makes as if to set Cat on the floor but the shrill scream that this produces makes her shrug and instead she sinks down on one of the chairs beside Charlie's high chair.

‘Do be quiet, Cat.' she says. ‘You're frightening Charlie.'

The child raises her head and Tiggy glimpses a small narrow face with close-set eyes that peer slyly at Charlie. He stares back, seraph-like, wide-eyed and curious at this intrusion but not unduly upset.

‘Coffee?' Julia says to nobody in particular, assembling mugs.

‘Thanks.' Angela says. ‘We're on our way to see my mother at Rock and couldn't resist dropping in to see how you are.'

With her free hand, she puts her bag on the table and roots for her cigarettes. She shakes a few loose, offers one to Julia and then to Tiggy, who refuses with a shake of the head. It is interesting to her that the narrow-faced, slant-eyed look should be so sexy on the mother when it is so unattractive on the child. She is aware of an uneasiness but can't decide whether it is emanating from Julia or herself, though she is very glad that she's wearing a baggy shirt over her jeans: she knows at once that Angela wouldn't miss a trick.

Julia is filling the kettle for coffee, talking easily enough, but Tiggy senses that the focus has changed and somehow Angela is now in control. She sits with the child clamped to her lap, the centre of attention, smiling her secretive, slant-eyed smile, as if she and Cat have some kind of right of ownership here, and Tiggy has a strong desire to break this odd spell. Clearly Andy feels the same. He begins to play noisily with the Turk so that she barks and, when Julia tries to hush him, he shouts, ‘Pee po piddle bum,' whilst Liv shrieks with hysterical laughter. Tiggy sees that, though this might have made Julia laugh if they'd been on their own with the twins, with Angela here she is flustered and upset. Tiggy decides to take control.

‘Oh, shut up, Andy,' she says calmly. ‘That isn't remotely funny. And where are your pictures for Daddy? Have you written on them yet so he knows which is which?'

Somehow she manages to get them back to the end of the table, creating a small area of activity that catches the attention away from Angela and Cat, who now raises her head to watch the twins busily at work.

‘How
is
Pete?' asks Angela, blowing smoke sideways, hefting Cat more comfortably on to her lap. Are you getting letters? He's in the Med, isn't he?'