Breaking the Chain (17 page)

‘Don’t touch!’ Phoebe warned Jack. ‘They’re hot!’

‘Ow!’ Jack said, flapping his hand ostentatiously.

‘You won’t be told, will you?’ Fay said, laughing.

‘Where’s D.D. Duncan?’ Jack asked, scowling.

‘Outside,’ Phoebe said pointing, raising her eyebrows at Fay, ‘in his shed in the garden.’ Jack made for the back door. ‘Yes, you go and find him. Good idea.’ After he had gone out, she said, ‘I assumed his stammer was only temporary.’

‘So did we,’ Fay said, sitting down by the kitchen table with a sigh, ‘but it seems not.’

That weekend Phoebe thought that Fay appeared very tired. She had been looking forward to talking to her but discovered that conversation was all but impossible with a four-year-old child around. Jack demanded their full attention, and viewed any talk which excluded him as utter treachery on his mother’s part. Only after he had gone noisily to bed in the spare room, was there an opportunity, but then Duncan was there too. It wasn’t until after supper, late on Saturday evening, that there was a proper chance. Duncan went off to watch something on television and left Phoebe and Fay together in the kitchen, doing the washing up.

‘You are lucky, Phoebe,’ Fay said. ‘It’s so peaceful here. Not that it would suit me; I could hardly sleep last night, it was so quiet! No traffic sounds at all.’

‘Except when there’s an east wind,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘Then we sometimes hear lorries on the hill. But peaceful can equal dull, you know.’

‘Does it in your case?’

‘Sometimes, yes.’

‘Doesn’t your job provide any stimulus?’

Phoebe laughed. ‘Not a lot,’ she said, ‘not like my old one in Newcastle; I really enjoyed that.’

‘So why don’t you look for one like it here?’

‘No chance, unless it was in Bristol, and I haven’t got a car any more.’

‘No.’

Phoebe could see that Fay wasn’t really listening. She was preoccupied, drying the same plate round and round again.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘What’s the matter?’

Fay grimaced. ‘I’m leaving Conrad,’ she said.

‘What, for good?’ Phoebe was taken aback.

‘Yes.’

‘But why? I mean, it’s none of my business, but you always seem so good together, to have such a successful set-up, so … in control of things … I don’t know …’

‘It’s because of Jack,’ Fay said. ‘I have to break the chain.’

‘What d’you mean? What chain?’

‘Those dreadful repressive attitudes which all the Moons seem to take in with their mother’s milk, and which persist down the generations as an unbroken chain – the idea that feelings and emotions should be strangled at birth; that showing kindness or needing encouragement is a weakness; that sons are to be competed with; that sex is embarrassing; that love is only a word …’ Fay’s eyes brimmed.

‘Oh Fay!’ Phoebe said. She had tears in her own eyes now. ‘I know just how you feel.’ She wanted to comfort her sister-in-law, but her hands were wet with dishwater and she was afraid of spoiling Fay’s elegant clothes. ‘Duncan’s just like that too!’

‘I’ve had enough,’ Fay said. ‘I can bear it for myself – have done for years – but not for Jack. He’s not yet five and already life’s too hard for him.’ She broke down completely and sobbed into the tea towel. Phoebe dried her hands on her jeans and put both arms round her, patting her back in sympathy, and weeping herself. They were standing like that when Duncan wandered into the kitchen in search of tea.

‘Oh,’ he said. He turned on his heel and went out again.

‘See,’ Phoebe sniffed, ‘Duncan can’t take emotion either.’

‘Perhaps he was just being tactful,’ Fay said, pulling away from her gently.

‘Mmmm.’

They sat down at the kitchen table opposite one another. Phoebe found a box of tissues and they both wiped their eyes and blew their noses.

‘I honestly believe,’ Fay said, ‘that
no
father is preferable to a bad father, from a child’s point of view.’

‘Maybe,’ Phoebe said. ‘My father always disapproved of me, and things were certainly easier after he left. But I did miss having a proper father figure, and I’m sure the lack of one screwed up my relationships with men later on.’

‘I’ve got lots of friends who are men,’ Fay said quickly. ‘Jack won’t lack male influences. I’ll make sure of that.’

‘What does Conrad say about all this?’

‘He doesn’t know yet. Don’t tell anyone, especially Duncan.’

‘But you’re not leaving without telling him, surely?’

‘Oh no. I plan to stay with my parents for a fortnight’s holiday, then leave Jack with them for a week or two longer while I go back to London, tell Conrad and then move my stuff out.’

‘Where to?’

‘To a friend’s flat in St John’s Wood. She’s abroad and she’s renting it to me until I can find something permanent of my own.’

‘Then what?’

‘Then life goes on as usual. I continue running my business and Jack needn’t go off to that bloody boarding school when he’s seven.’

‘That was Conrad’s idea?’

‘He wants him to “follow the family tradition”. He’s antediluvian!’

‘Duncan’s old-fashioned as well,’ Phoebe said, ‘but I think I probably am too. I really believe in marriage.’ She said this half-apologetically, feeling sure that Fay would pour scorn on the idea. Fay surprisingly did not.

‘Oh I believe in marriage,’ she said. ‘It’s the obvious arrangement if you’re going to have children. The danger comes when people – especially wives – expect all the wrong things of it.’

The kitchen door opened and Duncan came in. He looked relieved to see that neither of them was crying.

‘C-C-Cup of tea?’ he suggested, going to put the kettle on.

‘Why not?’ Fay said. ‘Good idea.’

‘Is everything a-a-all right?’ Duncan asked tentatively.

‘Fine,’ Fay said at once. ‘Just girl talk, you know.’

‘Oh,’ Duncan said, ‘good.’

‘It’s lovely to get the chance of a good old natter,’ Phoebe said, taking her cue from Fay. ‘We’ve never really had that before.’

They sat round the table drinking tea. Fay asked Duncan about his work, and waited patiently for him to get all the words out. She seemed totally composed. Phoebe watched her in admiration. She was in her mid-forties but she was still beautiful and had kept her figure despite having had three children. Life alone would be easy for her, Phoebe suspected. She probably wouldn’t be alone long anyway.

Duncan yawned and stretched. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’m off to b-bed. I s-suppose you t-two will want to go on ch-chattering?’

‘Yes. Don’t wait for me,’ Phoebe said. ‘I’ll creep in later.’

‘Goodnight, Duncan,’ Fay said. ‘Sleep well.’

When he had gone, Phoebe got Fay to explain what she meant about the dangers of marriage.

‘If wives are not careful,’ Fay said thoughtfully, ‘marriage can diminish them. It can stunt their personal development, weaken their friendships, undermine their self-assurance and bugger up their careers. I’ve seen it happen to so many of my friends.’

‘I thought you were in favour of marriage?’

‘I am.’

‘But you’re leaving anyway.’

Fay sighed. ‘Because of Jack. He’s my weak link. And to think that people have children on purpose to mend rocky marriages, and then are surprised when they have just the opposite effect!’

‘You didn’t do that?’

‘Heavens no. Jack was a mistake. Don’t get me wrong; I love him to death and wouldn’t be without him for the world now he’s here, but disagreements about his upbringing are the cause of our problems.’

They talked into the night, and when they had finished discussing Fay and Conrad, they started on Phoebe and Duncan. Phoebe discovered that she could unburden her problems in front of Fay, and she did so in a grateful flood.

‘The way you tell it,’ Fay said thoughtfully, ‘it sounds as though your very identity depends upon Duncan. I think your expect too much from him. You can’t get total fulfilment from just one person, you know – especially a man! It just isn’t reasonable. Wouldn’t it be better to have friends who could meet your different needs each in their own way?’

‘But Duncan doesn’t need any friends. He’s self-sufficient.’

‘I’m talking about
you!
You seem to have given up all your past life to submerge yourself, your whole character, into this magic “couple” idea. You’ve expected Duncan to do the same, and he hasn’t, so now you feel hurt and resentful. I’m not surprised you do. I think you’ve started from the wrong premise altogether. Duncan is not your other half. He’s a distinct, very different, but possibly complementary whole! He’s got his own life sorted out to his satisfaction and he’s getting on with it. I’m sure he expects you to do the same.’

‘But what about the chain … all the things you were saying you didn’t want Jack to be like? I thought you agreed with me that we all need love and support; that we can’t go on without it?’

‘I do, but you don’t have to get it from Duncan. You could get it from a friend – from me, for example.’ She put out her hand and rubbed Phoebe’s arm.

‘But it’s -.’

‘Not the same?’ Phoebe nodded. ‘I agree with you. It’s not the same; it can be better!’ Fay said. Phoebe was doubtful. ‘You don’t have to be part of a couple in order to be fulfilled, Phoebe. You’re a complete person in your own right. You should value yourself; not wait for Duncan to do it for you. You deserve a job like your old one, which stretches you and gives you satisfaction, and friends who can boost your morale. You’d feel much more confident and you’d probably be a lot nicer to Duncan!’

‘It sounds so easy, put like that,’ Phoebe sighed, ‘but I’ve never been particularly confident – that’s my trouble. I desperately need to be approved of and I don’t feel worth anything, unless I’m told I am.’

‘And you expect Duncan to do the telling?’

‘Well, yes. He’s my husband. That’s what he’s for!’

‘Then you’ll always be let down,’ Fay said firmly. ‘Someone like Duncan is incapable of providing that sort of crutch. If that is truly what you need, then you’ve married the wrong man.’

‘But I thought you were arguing that I should stay with Duncan and change myself,’ Phoebe said, muddled. ‘Now I don’t know what to think!’

‘I don’t think you should take any notice of what I say at all,’ Fay said ruefully. ‘Advice on marriage from someone who’s just about to leave their husband has to be more than a little suspect, don’t you think? I was just thinking aloud really -trying to be dispassionate, I suppose.’ Then she frowned. ‘No, I’m talking crap,’ she said. ‘Or at the very least, I’m being disingenuous. That was all just theory. If I’m really honest, my marriage break-up isn’t because of Jack. He’s just the last straw. I thought I was proof against a lack of love and emotional reassurance – I’ve stood up against it for so long – but like you, I’ve been worn down. I suppose I’ve latched onto Jack’s future as the perfect excuse; a more valid reason for leaving than just my own unhappiness.’ She put her hand up to her face and pressed it over her mouth.

‘Let’s drink some gin,’ Phoebe suggested.

‘Great idea. Two large G and Ts. Any lemon?’

‘No. I’m afraid they got used up in the marmalade.’

‘No matter.’ Phoebe got up to fetch the bottles. ‘I do mean what I said about friendship, though,’ Fay said. ‘We can help each other.’

‘Oh yes,’ Phoebe said fervently. ‘It’s so wonderful to find someone who
understands’
It was a tremendous relief, she thought, at last to find someone sympathetic to bare her soul to. Fay could offer a different viewpoint, could challenge her preconceptions without anger, could praise her good points and make allowances for her faults. She could, and did. By 2 a.m. the two women had got on to discussing the rest of the Moon family. Fay, who had been married to Conrad since 1968, was able to tell Phoebe all the family stories of the past twenty-four years, stories which Duncan could have shared with her, and more.

‘I used to have terrible rows with Rick,’ Fay said. ‘For a time, we lived quite close to them and I saw what he was doing to those poor girls he married.’

‘Hope told me that they were both mad.’

‘They were perfectly normal before they married dear Roderick!’

‘Did he beat them up? Surely not?’

‘Nothing so obvious. I think it would be called “mental cruelty” these days. Rick wanted them for their looks, their youth and their biddableness. He didn’t want to make any real commitment to them, and he didn’t want any competition from them. He seemed to find it almost necessary to despise them. Then you see, he gave all of himself to his acting, and he’s so superficial that there wasn’t anything left underneath for his wives; no love, no support; same old story. I liked Poppy. She comes from a big, warm, demonstrative sort of family in the States. She naturally assumed that the Moons would be the same. She fought hard, but she caved in eventually. Poor Elenira didn’t stand a chance. She didn’t even speak English properly. He called her his “little Brazil nut” which, of course, she was in the end.’

‘How did she do it?’ Phoebe had often wondered.

‘Jumped off Tower Bridge. She wasn’t found for a week.’ Fay shook her head. ‘Poor unfortunate creature. He didn’t deserve either of them and they most certainly didn’t deserve him!’

‘But Poppy is apparently all right now,’ Phoebe said. ‘Did the boys have a good New Year with her? Have you heard?’

‘Really wonderful, so young Pete told me. Of course neither of them remembered her. Rod was three and Pete only one when she left them in … it must have been 1980 – heavens! Twelve years ago! But when they actually met her, Pete especially was absolutely delighted to find he had a real mum at last, and, of course, both boys are absolutely mad on all things American. They’re longing to go and visit her there. I think Rod felt a bit resentful that she’d abandoned them, to start with, but she’s obviously won him over. He’s having the usual teenage
trouble with his dad at the moment, so it couldn’t have come at a better time for him.’

‘Or a worse time for Rick?’

‘Yes. He’s not best pleased. He refuses point-blank to let them go to the States, but he has grudgingly admitted that Poppy has a right to see them in London.’

‘Another drink?’ Phoebe offered.