Illusions of Happiness (3 page)

Those first kisses in the lane had had her believing the tingle she’d felt each time was the most any girl felt. Now she eagerly sought it, knowing the culmination would be to be whirled away to some great spinning height, sighing and gasping, oblivious to everything but their uniting in a passion that made them one.

It was almost an agony to have to sit beside Hamilton at dinner, weekend after weekend. Dancing together at some function or other she was only too relieved to be held at arm’s length as they moved. Very soon she would be attending her coming out ball, along with scores of other young debs, but it would be merely a formality, her father already having made up his mind that she would become Mrs Hamilton Bramwell by next year.

‘You are beginning to appear far more at ease with young Hamilton these days, Madeleine,’ her father remarked this Saturday afternoon as his chauffeur drove them towards Gerrard’s Green.

‘I admit, I very much approved of your reserve, as should become a young lady of good family towards her fiancé in those early stages, so long as it isn’t taken too far. But I am very pleased, my dear, and so is your mother.’

‘Yes indeed, dear, very much so,’ her mother echoed, leaning over to plant a quick peck on her daughter’s cheek only to move quickly back in her seat before her husband’s frown at the small display of affection.

Madeleine said nothing, throwing her father a sidelong glance which he failed to notice.

On the Board of Directors of a grammar school outside Beaconsfield, Aldous Bardolph Wyndham was a stern and overpowering man as his name seemed to imply, named after his father who’d been an equally overpowering person.

She remembered him, not as children usually remember a grandfather, with love, affection and fond memories, but with awe and trepidation, a man who had seldom if ever smiled. And neither did her father, except to confer the odd appraisal upon a person, more usually her mother, Dorothy, who almost appeared to genuflect to any approval he might bestow on her.

But if he expected his daughter to do likewise, if he ever bothered to notice, Madeleine thought silently as they drove along, he was going to have to wait a long time, especially on the matter of Hamilton. She tried not to envisage the consequences of finally refusing him when he eventually did propose formally. As that prospect and its dread consequence began to creep over her, she forced it away as best she could, trying instead to concentrate on settling back in her seat between her parents. But it wasn’t easy.

In her bedroom Madeleine sat by the window staring at the fields beyond, all bathed in the glorious sunshine of broad summer, but her mind wasn’t on the glory of summer. It was almost the end of July and she still hadn’t seen this month’s period. She hadn’t seen last month’s either. Usually she was as regular as clockwork, always had been. Something was wrong. If it was what she now cringed at the thought of, what on earth was she going to do? She would speak to Freddy. He’d calm her fear. He would maybe even propose to her.

For some time she’d yearned for him to ask for her hand, well before this predicament had come upon her. Yet in a way she had dreaded him asking. What if he did, she could never approach her father for his consent knowing he would never give it, thus complicating any hope of them ever marrying.

To put off that awful refusal she had never made any approach to Freddy and perhaps he was of the opinion that she had no intention of being married to him; that she was merely out for a good time. If so how dreadfully wrong he was. She loved him with all her heart, wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But now, what had been only a longing wish had suddenly become imperative; the consequences of not doing so suddenly become a nightmare. But most important, she needed to see Freddy and let him know what she feared regarding her condition.

Today was Wednesday the twenty-ninth of July. She would be seeing him this evening anyway. She would have to tell him today. In the barn he would take her in his arms, kiss her long and passionately and together they would sink down on to the small bit of carpet. There he would fondle her, she responding with sighs of joy and they would make love. But today they had more important things to consider. Making love could wait until after she told him.

In the barn she turned her face away from his kiss as they stood there; she needed to say what had to be said before they sank down on to the ground.

Her expression one of anguish, she poured out her plight to him in a rush. ‘Freddy, I think I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do.’

Her voice fading away, she waited for him to speak, to tell her it would all be all right. But he’d gone very quiet, remaining silent for so long that her heart began to thump even more heavily than it had as they’d gone into the barn, his arm about her waist in all innocence of what she had to tell him. She found herself aching for him to say something now. When he did, his tone was even and very quiet.

‘What d’you want me to say?’

‘I just want to know what we are going to do,’ she said, her voice quavering.

For a moment or two longer he stood looking at her, to her relief seeming in fact to be debating what they would do. Then he spoke again, softly, almost abstractly.

‘We?’

Madeleine felt her body chill at that single word. What did he mean?

‘You and me, us, what are we going to do, Freddy?’

Her words began to pour from her in a frantic gush. ‘My father will kill me when he finds out and he will in time, won’t he? He’ll never agree to us marrying. But I thought maybe if you and I run away together and get married before he finds out, he won’t be able to do anything about it.’

For a moment he stood silently regarding her. His hands had dropped away from her waist. Then in low, measured tones he said, ‘I don’t know about me, but you’re going to have to get rid of it before your father does get to see your condition, that’s if you’re what you say you are, because you can only be two months gone, three at the most.’

‘It could be almost three.’

‘Even so, there’s still time to get rid of it. Then we can forget all about it and go on as we’ve been doing.’

‘Get rid of it?’ she echoed, bemused by his calm attitude, not really understanding.

He gave a half smile. ‘You really have had a sheltered life, haven’t you? I don’t think you know much about life at all, do you? Now look,’ he went on, growing serious. ‘This is how it works. I take you to someone and you tell her what’s happened and she does this small thing to you, down there.’ He pointed to her lower body. ‘It all comes away and you’re back to normal. You’ll have to pay her of course.’

‘Pay her? Who is she?’

‘The woman who does that sort of thing, but she don’t like to be named and you mustn’t tell anyone what you’re up to because you and her could get into trouble with the law. Abortion’s illegal.’

Madeleine stared at him, hardly comprehending what he was saying. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Abortion? What do you mean?’

She saw him give a long-suffering sigh. ‘It means, my love, getting rid of the baby if you are in fact pregnant.’

She continued to stare at him. ‘You mean it . . . it’s . . . killed?’ she stammered in sudden horror, her hand to her mouth.

‘It’s just a fetus, Maddie, at the moment hardly much bigger than, say a marble.’

‘But alive. And to get rid of it . . . I couldn’t do that! It’s wicked, it’s cruel! No, Freddy, I can’t do that!’

‘Well, you can’t possibly have it, can you?’ he reasoned.

‘But—’ She stopped, her heart racing. ‘But if we’re married, none of that will need to happen. We could—’

‘Marry!’ he broke in. ‘Maddie, have I ever mentioned marriage?’

Madeleine stared at him. ‘I thought . . . after us making love all this time, I thought . . .’

She saw him grimace. ‘Maddie, darling, you thought wrong. Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘But you love me!’ Her voice was a tremulous wail.

‘I do, but not in that way. Besides, you’ve got a fiancé. You told me about him. Well, if he wants to marry you, so let him. And make it quick before he finds out about your situation.’

‘But I don’t love him. I love you!’

He was beginning to look impatient, angry. ‘Well, you’ll just have to stop loving me. I’m not about to be saddled with a kid, nor have your father coming after me. Besides, I’ve got a fiancée too. Next spring we’re going to be wed. So I’d have had to cut short our affair eventually.’

He looked at her as, almost in tears now, she began to back away from him. ‘Surely you knew this couldn’t go on forever. It would have had to come to an end sooner or later. You must’ve known that.’

Hearing him speaking so coldly, so calmly, she felt her legs suddenly lose all strength, giving way beneath her, and she sank to the floor, sobs beginning to rack her body. But instead of helping her to her feet, he gave an irascible sigh and stood over her curled form looking down at her.

‘Look love, you’re going to have to sort yourself out. I can’t be doing with complications. I’m not losing my fiancée, that’s for sure. And if you try to name me as the father, Maddie, I’ll deny it. It could be anyone’s.’

She stared up at him in shock. ‘How can you say that?’ she wailed, pleading. ‘After all we’ve had together. I love you. I trusted you, Freddy! I let you make love to me and I thought you loved me enough to look after me.’

Her heart was beating so fast, pounding, her breathing rapid with terror of what lay in store for her now; unthinkable things, all so terrifying that she was being overwhelmed by them. She felt she was going to faint. Her clothing felt so tight about her body that it felt as though she were in a cage of iron. It made her want to tear off the constriction of clothing. Instead, all she could do was cry out, ‘Help me . . .’ her voice dying away to a faint breath.

The next thing she was in his arms, being held tightly.

‘Maddie! Don’t be so stupid!’

‘I want to die.’ It felt as if she were actually dying.

‘Don’t be silly, Maddie, pull yourself together,’ he was saying, his voice sharp and urgent.

There was hope. He still loved her. He wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t leave her. She let her body go limp against him as he held her. ‘I’ll love you always,’ she sighed. ‘Always.’

‘Then you’ll do what I suggest. Get rid of it.’

That brought her to her senses with a jolt. ‘No! No!’ she heard herself cry out. ‘Just be with me, marry me, Oh, Freddy, I love you so much. We can still marry . . .’

‘Oh, for God’s sake!’

He let go of her so suddenly that she almost fell to the ground again but managed to keep her feet as he swung away from her. ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ he was saying. Now he turned back to her.

‘Look, Maddie, I’ve told you, I’m promised to someone else. And I’m putting my cards on the table now. You can get rid of it or you can keep it, either way it doesn’t matter. Maybe I wasn’t as careful as I should have been but you never showed any wish for us to be anything else. Maybe I should have taken precautions but it wasn’t all my fault, you practically ate me up when we made love and gave me no chance to be careful.’

She stood trembling, perplexed. What did he mean by precautions, being careful? But he wasn’t done talking yet.

‘But I promise you, Maddie, if you do have it and try to name me as the father, I’ll deny it. No one knows about us, certainly not my fiancée. And if you do try to accuse me, she’ll stand by me, because who’d ever imagine for a moment that some well brought up daughter of a distinguished man like your father – though I must say you’ve never behaved to me all that well brought up – having an affair with some tradesman like me, even to letting him have his pleasure with her.’

He stopped, breathing heavily from his furious speech. Through the many cracks in the broken planks of the barn the hot July sunshine pierced the gloom with shafts of dust-laden light. One shaft was lighting up those beautiful blue eyes she so adored but she hardly noticed them now.

‘You’ve been making love to her all the time you’ve been with me?’ she queried stupidly.

‘Not making love,’ he corrected, almost savagely. ‘We’re engaged. I’ve never touched her. She wouldn’t have allowed me to, not until we marry. No decent girl would.’

‘You mean I’m not decent?’

‘I never said that. I thought you understood. You from a good family and me working class, where did you expect it to go?

‘Anyway,’ he went on after a pause during which she could find nothing to say, ‘it’s all over. If you need help finding an abortionist, I’ll take you, secretly. If not, then that’s it. Just don’t start trying to pester me when I’m delivering milk to your family or I’ll have to complain to them about it, all right?’

With that he moved towards her, brushing past her and out into the bright sunshine, walking off without a backward look.

As if turned to stone, Maddie watched him go. She wanted to sink down again on to the barn floor, but now there was no one to help her up. Instead she backed slowly towards the far wall of the barn, letting herself lean heavily against it. And there she wept.

Dwelling on one’s own personal problems was expected to be put aside as trivial, the whole of Great Britain consumed by the need to show Kaiser Bill he couldn’t walk into another country just as he pleased. Squabbles in Europe had been one thing, marching uninvited into a neutral country in order to invade France was quite another. With Great Britain ready to square up to Germany in defence of little Belgium, men were rushing in hordes to enlist and show the Bosch what British people were made of.

Madeleine’s mind was as much taken up by the outbreak of war as anyone’s but her own problems were hitting her hard. She’d not heard from Freddy for nearly a week. Instead his father was delivering the milk, so what excuse had his son given for not delivering it himself any more? He could be ill but more likely he felt it better for him not to show himself.

After the third non-appearance, she approached his father to ask why he no longer came. ‘Didn’t you know, miss, begging you pardon,’ he said, partly with deference, partly with pride. ‘My Freddy went off to enlist the day after war was declared.’