Desperate Measures (24 page)
Anne’s voice was ringing with hostility. ‘I don’t know why I bothered to go, John. As usual Mum just went on about how she gave her life to Dad.’
‘That girl was so convincing. If you hadn’t turned up when you did, I’d have fallen for her story hook, line and sinker. Poor Dad. Until we let everyone know, his name will be mud, and I dread to think how it’s going to affect his business.’
‘I think that’s the least of his worries at the moment. Hasn’t there been
any
news?’
‘No, not yet. Dad’s still in with Mel.’
‘I hope she’s all right, that the baby’s all right,’ Anne said worriedly.
The door opened, and both rose swiftly as their father walked in. He looked exhausted, his face etched with fatigue, but then he smiled. ‘Mel’s out of danger now, the baby too.’
‘Oh, Dad,’ Anne cried, throwing herself into her father’s arms. ‘What about the Caesarean? Have they called it off?’
‘Yes, but they’re keeping her in for the time being.’
‘Can I see her?’
‘Sorry, darling, she’s asleep now, but we can come back this evening.’
John stood to one side, still reeling with shock at what his mother had done. He too had wanted to confront her, had intended to drive to Battersea that morning, but then a frantic call from his father had stayed his hand. Anne had been so incensed that there’d been no stopping her, but feeling he couldn’t leave his father on his own, he’d chosen to remain at the hospital. After listening to his father’s side of the story last night, sometimes embarrassed by how frank he’d been, John couldn’t reconcile the woman he’d described as his mother. If it hadn’t been for Anne turning up at the party, nothing would have convinced him that his father’s words were true. Yet if Mel had died, if the baby had died, it would have been his mother’s fault. He felt sick at the thought, the urge to confront her gone now. In fact, at the moment, he didn’t feel that he’d ever want to see her again.
‘John, you had best get home to Ulrika. She’s probably waiting for news, and the same goes for you, Anne.’
‘No, Dad,’ Anne protested. ‘I’ll give Tony a ring and tell him to meet me at your place.’
‘There’s no need. Now I know that Mel and the baby are going to be all right, I’ll be fine on my own.’
‘Dad, your place still looks like a bomb’s hit it. There’s still the aftermath of the party to clear up, and Mel won’t want to face that when she arrives home.’
‘All right, darling, I won’t argue.’
‘I’ll get Ulrika and we’ll give you a hand,’ John offered.
‘Thanks, and I’m sorry your Christmas has been ruined.’
John shook his head. ‘You’ve got nothing to apologise for, Dad. This was all down to Mum.’
‘I know I wasn’t blameless, and of course she was badly hurt, but I never thought your mother would resort to this. It was a long time ago and I thought she’d be over it, so why now?’
‘She’s been bitter and twisted for years,’ Anne said, ‘always harping on about how hard up she is because you robbed her of a decent settlement.’
‘You know that isn’t true.’
‘Yes, of course I do, but nothing can convince Mum. Maybe I should’ve seen this coming, but lately I thought she’d moved forward. She’s made new friends and seemed happy.’
‘It might be my fault,’ John said. ‘She was dreadfully upset about the wedding and felt we were leaving her out.’
‘That’s no excuse,’ Anne snapped. ‘Ulrika has been in touch with her every week since then, and she’s been included in all the plans.’
‘Now hold on, you two. Neither of you are to blame. If anyone should take responsibility for this, it’s me.’
‘You’re not to blame either,’ John insisted. ‘All right, you fell in love with someone else, but now I know how unhappy you were, I can understand why.’
‘Come on, Dad, enough of this for now,’ Anne insisted as she took his arm. ‘You look worn out. It’s two–thirty and I think you should try to get a couple of hours’ sleep before we come back this evening.’
‘I won’t argue with that.’
John suddenly noticed how old his father looked, the usually tall, handsome, and distinguished man appearing bent with fatigue as they walked out of the waiting room. After what had happened last night, followed by his fear for Mel that morning, it wasn’t surprising–and he was also anxious that his father got some rest. The urge to confront his mother resurfaced, but there would be time enough later. For now all he cared about was his father, and he felt a surge of guilt that he’d so badly misjudged him. Why didn’t I listen before? he asked himself. But there was no answer to this question as they walked out of the hospital and to their cars.
Anne was the first to receive the news. Tony was waiting for her when she walked into their flat, his face grave.
‘Anne, it’s your mum. She’s in hospital. They think she’s had a slight stroke.’
‘Who’s they?’
‘A friend of your mum’s rang from casualty. A woman called Valerie Thorn.’
‘I only saw Mum a couple of hours ago and she was all right when I left.’
‘Yes, well, just after that she collapsed.’
‘A slight stroke doesn’t sound much to worry about. After what she did, it’s no more than she deserves,’ Anne retorted, still too upset about what her mother had done to care.
‘How can you say that? She’s still your mother.’
‘As far as I’m concerned she can rot in hell.’
‘Anne, surely you’re going to see her?’
‘No I’m not!’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Oh yes I do. I’ve listened to her moaning and carping for years, and though I’ve tried so many times to get her to see Dad’s point of view, she just wouldn’t listen. Now this. Because of her, Mel nearly died, along with my new baby brother or sister. What my mother did is unforgivable and I never want to see her again.’
‘Does John feel the same?’
‘Yes, he does. She poisoned his mind for years, but he’s seen the light at last. God, Tony, if I hadn’t turned up, John and Mel would have believed that bitch’s story.’
Tony ran a hand through his hair. ‘What a mess. What a Christmas. First the car played up on the way to Cornwall and we were lucky to make it back, let alone having to placate my parents. Then there was that scene at your father’s last night, followed by Mel being rushed to hospital this morning. How is she?’
‘It’s about time you asked. She’s fine, the baby’s fine, they’re both out of danger.’
‘That’s good, but now your mother’s in hospital too and I still think you should go to see her.’
‘I said no. Now come on, we’re going to my father’s. I want to get the place cleared up before Mel comes home.’
‘What if your mother has another stroke? What if she dies? How will you feel then?’
‘Shut up, Tony. I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. Now are you coming with me or not?’
‘I’m coming, and are you going to tell your dad that your mother’s in hospital?’
‘Yes, and I’m looking forward to it. Like me, he’ll see it as just punishment,’ Anne said maliciously.
Richard stared at his daughter, horrified by the smug expression on her face. She looked gleeful that her mother was in hospital, whereas when he glanced at John, he could see his son was deeply upset. ‘Anne, that’s enough! You may find what your mother did unforgivable, but I wouldn’t wish a stroke on her, or anyone.’
‘But, Dad…’
‘I said that’s enough! I hurt your mother, badly, and I’m not proud of myself. I hoped she’d get over it, that she’d eventually see my point of view. It’s obvious now that she hasn’t been able to, and I suspect her pain has been festering for years. I’m not happy about what she did, but I can at least show some understanding.’
‘You wouldn’t be saying that if Mel and the baby had died.’
‘Maybe not, but they didn’t. Your mother may still be in danger though.’
John rose to his feet. ‘Sorry, Dad, but I must go to see her.’
‘I understand, son. In fact, I’m coming with you.’
‘What!’ Anne cried. ‘But you can’t. What about Mel?’
‘It’s over three hours to visiting time, and with little traffic on the roads, we’ll make it back to Surrey in time. If your mother is up to it, I think it’s time we had a good, long talk. Maybe she’s ready to listen at last.’
‘Well I’m not going.’
‘That’s up to you, Anne, but can I give her a message?’
‘Yes. Tell her to go to hell.’
‘Anne, Anne,’ Richard muttered as he left the room with his son. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Betty again, but this hate, this venom, had to be thrashed out. If it wasn’t, there was always the danger that she would try something else and he’d be living on tenterhooks. Of course she might be too ill to receive visitors, or unable to talk. If that was the case he’d have to try again when she recovered.
If she recovers
, a small inward voice warned.
‘Blimey, you gave us a fright, Betty,’ said Paula.
‘I’m just relieved that you’re all right,’ Val murmured.
‘Me too,’ agreed Cheryl. ‘I call myself a nurse, but when you passed out with shock and then didn’t come round, I thought you’d had a stroke. I didn’t spot that you’d bumped your head badly, and it’s lucky you weren’t concussed.’
Betty said nothing, her eyes turned away from them. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. Thinking only brought pain. She had lost John, lost Anne. They would never forgive her. Never! Oh, God, if Mel died–if the baby died!
‘You can get dressed now, Mrs Grayson,’ a nurse said. ‘Doctor said you can go home.’
As the others left to wait outside, she rose to her feet. Why hadn’t it been a stroke? Why hadn’t she died? Because at this moment she wanted just that, to sink back into oblivion–to never have to think again. Never have to face what she had done.
‘Come on, let’s get you home,’ Val said.
Betty found herself being gently led forward, one step following another until they reached Val’s car. She was aware that they were driving home, but her brain still felt foggy She didn’t mind that. If she couldn’t die, then all she wanted was to escape into sleep.
When they arrived at the flats, Val said, ‘We’ll all come upstairs with you. I’m sure you need to talk.’
‘No, Val,’ she managed to protest. ‘I…I just want to lie down.’
‘But we can’t leave you like this.’
‘Please, Val.’
‘Oh, all right, but we’ll pop up to see you later.’
Paula moved forward to give her a cuddle, which Betty was just able to return, and then she walked upstairs to her flat. Inside she closed the door behind her, and momentarily looked at the unwrapped presents. She would never be able to face Christmas again–never be able to forget what she had done. Desolate, she went to her bedroom and, lying fully clothed on her bed, closed her eyes. Yet haunted by what had happened, her mind twisting and turning, she was unable to sleep.
‘I should have said something. I should have spoken up,’ Cheryl said as they walked into Val’s flat.
‘Me too,’ Paula agreed. ‘Betty’s daughter called me a bitch and instead of giving her a piece of my mind, I stayed on me knees like a dummy.’
‘I’m not talking about Betty’s daughter. I’m talking about the plan.’
‘We couldn’t have known that Anne would turn up at the party,’ Val pointed out.
‘No, you don’t understand. What I’m trying to say is, we should never have agreed to it in the first place.’
‘Sit down, you too, Paula,’ Val urged, and once seated she said, ‘Right, Cheryl, what was wrong with Betty’s plan?’
‘With the plan, nothing, but I’ve been over and over this in my mind, and as I said, I wish I’d spoken up. Betty should have let go of the past, moved forward. She had nothing to gain financially. It was all about revenge.’
‘You can’t blame her for that,’ Val protested. ‘After what her husband put her through—’
‘Val, for God’s sake,’ Cheryl interrupted. ‘From what her daughter said, there’s another side to the story, but worse, Betty knew that Mel had high blood pressure. And don’t tell me she didn’t know the risks. If Mel dies, or the baby dies…oh, oh…’ she choked, her voice trailing off.
‘No, no, she didn’t know the risks,’ Val protested. ‘When Betty was having a baby, she had high blood pressure too, and because she was all right, had no idea it was dangerous. Neither did I, or I wouldn’t have agreed to the plan. Unlike you, Cheryl, we aren’t nurses.’
‘Mel will be all right, won’t she?’ Paula appealed.
Cheryl shook her head. ‘I…I don’t know.’
‘Oh blimey! What ’ave we done?’
Val stood up and moved to the sideboard. Her hands shook as she poured three glasses of sherry. ‘Here,’ she said, handing out the glasses, and instead of sipping her own drink as usual, she swallowed it in one gulp.
‘If something happens to Mel, or the baby, despite what you say, I don’t think Betty’s children will ever forgive her,’ Cheryl said.
Paula blanched. ‘If…if anything does happen, you…you don’t think they’ll go to the police, do you?’
‘I don’t know, though I doubt it. But come on, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Val urged. ‘I’m sure Mel and the baby will be fine.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Cheryl murmured.
‘I am,’ Val said, trying to convey a more positive attitude than she felt. ‘For now, Betty should be our main concern. She’s in a terrible state and I’m worried about her. I think we’ll give her an hour and then go upstairs.’
Both Paula and Cheryl nodded, their mood sombre as Val poured them all another drink.
Richard and John were leaving the casualty department of the hospital in Battersea. ‘If your mother’s been released, she must be fine.’
‘Yes, and we might as well go home.’
‘No, John, I’d still like to talk to her.’
‘All right, I’ll direct you to where she lives, but I’m not coming in.’
Richard started the car and followed his son’s instructions until they pulled up outside a small block of flats. He asked John which one she lived in, and then before getting out of the car said, ‘Are you sure you won’t come in?’
‘I’m sure, but don’t be long, Dad. We’ve still got to drive back to Farnham and Mel will be expecting you at visiting time.’
‘I’m well aware of that, son,’ Richard said as he closed the door. Yes, Mel was his main concern, but he’d never be able to relax until he’d sorted things out with Betty. He climbed the stairs, heaving in a deep breath before knocking on her door.
‘Richard! What…what are you doing here?’ Betty stammered. ‘Oh, no, don’t tell me something’s happened to Mel and the baby.’
He took in Betty’s horrified expression, her rumpled clothes and hair and, instead of anger, found he felt only pity. ‘They’re both out of danger.’
She seemed to slump before him and, hastily stepping inside, Richard took her arm. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes, I was just a bit dizzy for a moment.’
‘Betty, if you’re up to it, I’d like to talk to you.’
‘Richard, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to harm Mel or the baby. It was you I wanted to punish.’
‘I don’t doubt that,’ Richard said gently, ‘but we still need to talk.’
She nodded and, indicating a chair said, ‘You’d better sit down.’
He took a seat, waiting until Betty sat opposite. ‘I thought you’d be over our divorce by now, but from what Anne tells me, you’re always harping on about it.’
Her head shot up. ‘What do you expect?’
‘Please, can’t you see my side of the story?’
‘You moved Mel in, forced…forced me out of my home.’
‘I know, but you left me no choice.’
‘You left me almost penniless.’
‘I gave you all I could and it was a good amount,’ and seeing that she was about to protest, he held up his hand. ‘I think it’s time you heard a few home truths, and after the stunt you just pulled, you at least owe me that.’
Once again she seemed to slump, her head bowed as she nodded.
‘I’m a man, Betty, with a man’s needs, but after the children were born you shut me out. Sex became a dirty word to you. All you cared about was the home and our children. No, no, please don’t interrupt,’ he urged. ‘My frustration was thrown into the business, and I worked hard, making enough money to ensure that both John and Anne had private educations.’
‘I…I helped. I was thrifty with money.’
‘Yes, I won’t deny you were good at handling the housekeeping money, leaving most of the profits to plough back into the business. You were good with the children, too, but Betty, you were never a wife, not even in a social sense. I was trying to gain contacts, but you wouldn’t even entertain my business colleagues and friends.’
‘I tried, but they made me feel uncomfortable, with the wives all looking down on me.’
‘No, it was you who made
them
feel uncomfortable, as if coming into your home was an intrusion.’
‘I didn’t have their gadgets or their fancy clothes. I was worn out with looking after you and the children. You didn’t care about that; all you seemed to care about was…was sex.’
‘You make it sound like a dirty word.’
‘I…I gave you two children, wasn’t that enough?’
‘There’s more to marriage than children. As I said before, a man still has his needs.’
‘And I suppose you got your so–called needs fulfilled by Mel.’
‘It wasn’t like that. When Mel came to work for me, I wasn’t looking for an affair. It just sort of happened. I fought the attraction, Mel did too, but we couldn’t help falling in love.’
‘Love! You call sex, love?’
‘No, but it’s a part of it. If you had ever truly loved me, you’d know that.’
‘I did love you! Do love you,’ Betty blurted out, her face flooding with colour.
Richard shook his head. ‘No, Betty, you loved the idea of marriage, of a house, children, but once you had filled what you saw as your role, you had no further use for me.’
‘That isn’t true. It was
you
who had no further use for me. You swapped me for a younger model and I was thrown out of my home.’
‘Oh please, it wasn’t like that and you know it. I told you about Mel, asked for a divorce, but you just wouldn’t accept it. For months and months I tried, but you just wouldn’t listen. In the end I couldn’t stand it any more. I knew I’d have to do something drastic, and moving Mel in seemed the only way. She argued against it, refused at first, but I eventually persuaded her. Mel felt awful, uncomfortable, especially when I showed her any affection. She wanted to leave, but I wouldn’t let her, and then when I found you a flat, you
agreed
to move out.’
‘Don’t give me that. Moving Mel in wasn’t the only way.
You
could have left, found yourself a love nest, but instead it was me who had to go.’
Richard lowered his eyes. Yes, what Betty said was true, but he’d worked like a dog to buy the new house, to pay the mortgage, and had put all his capital into renovating it. The thought of giving it up had sickened him, so he’d reconciled his actions by deciding that he was the one paying for it and that Betty had done nothing, except playing the part of a housekeeper rather than a wife. He met her eyes, saying regretfully, ‘I know, and I’m not proud of my actions.’
‘You filed for divorce, said I’d abandoned you, and then did me out of a decent settlement.’
‘I took my solicitor’s advice, but I
did
give you a good settlement, even remortgaging the business, risking everything I had built up to make sure you got a decent amount.’
‘If that’s the case, how come I have to take on a cleaning job to survive?’
‘Betty, if you had invested wisely, you wouldn’t have to work. Instead, John told me that you gave him a very large deposit to buy a house, and I’m not pleased that he accepted money from you.’
‘I wanted to see him settled, and he’ll pay it back one day.’
‘I hope so, but it seems you also became a spendthrift. If that’s the case, it’s not my fault you’re hard up now.’
‘After our divorce, I suffered from depression. I had scrimped and scraped for years on the pittance you gave me for housekeeping, but then for the first time I had money. I was so unhappy, and I…I suppose buying things became a sort of compensation.’
Richard glanced at his watch. Worried about the time, he said, ‘I’m sorry, Betty, sorry you suffered depression, but this is getting us nowhere. Can’t you see that there were faults on both sides? Surely it’s time to put this all behind us?’
Tears filled Betty’s eyes as she considered his words, but then at last she said, ‘Yes, it is. I was so hurt, so full of bitterness that I could only see my side of the story and I still think it was wrong of you to force me out. I worked so hard to make the house and garden lovely, and the thought of Mel living there in luxury now, drove me mad. I feel awful about pulling that stunt and about using a good friend to do it. If anything had happened to Mel and the baby, I would never have been able to forgive myself.’
‘I doubt I could have forgiven you either, but thankfully Mel’s all right. As for living in luxury, we aren’t rich. I still have a large mortgage to pay and I’ve had to work my socks off to build up capital again. I bought the house on financial advice, as an investment towards my retirement, yet you’re right, I did force you out. If you really are hard up, I’ll see what I can do to help you.’
‘No, I don’t want your money.’
‘Then I’ll talk to John about paying back the money you gave him.’
‘Don’t do that. He’s getting married and will need every penny.’
‘Very well, but he can pay you some time in the future. Talking of John,’ Richard said as he stood up, ‘I’d better go. He’s waiting in the car and we’ve got to get back to Farnham.’
‘John! John’s downstairs?’ Betty cried as she jumped to her feet.
‘Yes, but I’m afraid he doesn’t want to see you.’
Betty ran to the window, shaking with emotion as she looked down on the car.
Richard didn’t know what to do, and hesitantly put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Please,’ he murmured, ‘don’t cry.’
‘You…you’ve won. You’ve got them both now.’
‘It was never a contest, Betty. John doesn’t want to see you, or Anne, but give it time. I’ll work on them and I’m sure they’ll come to forgive you.’
‘Perhaps I should go down? Talk to him?’
‘Leave it for now. He’s in no mood to listen and it might make things worse.’
‘Why? Why did I do it? John will never forgive me. Never!’ Betty sobbed.
As Betty continued to cry, Richard felt awful. He wasn’t happy with the stunt she’d pulled, yet could understand why she felt driven to do it. He felt callous, but all he wanted now was to leave, to get back to Farnham, and Mel. ‘John
will
come round, you’ll see, but I’m sorry, I really do have to go now.’
She sniffed, nodded, her eyes still on the car, and after muttering goodbye, Richard left, the tension in his body easing as he went downstairs.
John turned his head to look at his father as Richard got behind the wheel, but said nothing, his face set like stone. With a sigh, Richard started the engine. ‘Your mother is sorry, really sorry. We had a good talk and she’s agreed to put the past behind us.’