Part of the Furniture (17 page)

‘Believe it.’

‘I’ll begin at the beginning, then.’

‘Please.’

Robert coughed, ‘Emma and I discovered how to make love. You with me?’

‘So far.’

How lovely Emma had been when they made love that first time on a rainy day, tumbling and rolling in the bed which Juno slept in now, and all the other times that magical summer, indoors and out, up here on the cliff to the sound of the sea and cry of gull. But one must skip that, stick to the essence. ‘So we made love and after a month, six weeks perhaps, Emma started to feel sick in the morning, like you just now.’

‘And?’ For Robert in turn was staring out to sea, silent, remembering. Was he remembering that Emma had enjoyed it? Lucky Emma. ‘Go on, what happened next?’

‘Oh! Yes. Well, after a while, not long at all, she stopped feeling sick and felt very well.’

‘Good. And?’

‘And the baby grew inside her, as yours will in you, and after nine months Evelyn was born.’

‘Was she pleased?’

‘We were both tremendously pleased.’ (Ecstatic would be the right word.)

‘There must be more to it than that.’

‘Oh, there is. There is the moment when the baby first moves, that’s magical.’

‘Moves? Where? Inside the body?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good Lord!’

‘And I remember she wanted to pee pretty often, she found that a bit of a bore. It’s pressure on the bladder. And she got pretty big, enormous, actually.’

‘And?’

‘That’s about it. The baby grows into a tiny human being.’

‘But you were in love?’

‘Tremendously so, yes.’

‘So she put up with bits of boredom?’

‘Of course.’

‘Does it hurt when the baby is born?’

‘I am afraid it does.’

‘I don’t like the idea of that.’

‘Nor did Emma.’

‘But she managed to bear it and had a lovely baby and you married and lived happily ever after,’ Juno was shouting. She had angry tears spurting, felt herself shaking. ‘But I—I am not—I do not—I do not know what to do or where to go or anything—I—’

Her shouting alarmed Millicent, who tossed her head, neighed and jerked the rein tying her to the tree. Robert’s horse, uneasy too, shuffled and shifted his feet. Robert thought, ever after was pretty marvellous. I was lucky to have even those few months, I know that, and I must try to hang on now Evelyn has died, but blast the girl, why is she shouting so?

He was suddenly angry and snapped, ‘You stay here, you little fool, that’s what you do. There is no need for you to go anywhere.’ Juno said, ‘What?’

Robert said, ‘Ann and I can look after you.’ He stood up, furious. ‘Unless you want to be shipped off to Canada to join your mother, though the shipping lines probably draw the line at pregnant girls in wartime. Anyway, is that what you want? Canada?’ Juno exclaimed, ‘I couldn’t possibly. No!’

‘Well, then.’ Robert sat down again, his anger diminishing. Juno said, ‘What will your neighbours say?’

Robert said, ‘Fuck my neighbours.’ And, observing Juno’s startled expression, ‘They are rarely surprised by anything at Copplestone.’ Juno said, ‘I believe you mean it, mean I can stay.’

‘I do.’

‘I am not married,’ she prevaricated.

‘I know that.’

‘Or likely to be.’

‘So?’

‘I shall be a nuisance, a burden, a bore.’

‘A nuisance and a burden probably, but not a bore. Look! There goes the peregrine, see it?’

‘Yes! He is beautiful. Oh, Robert, thank you.’

Robert said, ‘Time enough when we’ve had the baby.’

‘We?’

Robert said, ‘I intend to enjoy it and I propose that you do, too. Come on, there is nothing to cry about.’

‘Your kindness, I am crying about that.’

Robert said, ‘Don’t embarrass me. You’ll upset the horses.’ For Millicent, annoyed at being tied and lusting after the forbidden grass, was jerking at the restraining rein. He said, ‘Sit down a minute, Juno.’ Her tears were gushing again and her nose running. Obediently she sat with her back to the rock, blew her nose and stared at the sea.

Robert thought, I should not have been so cavalier, I should have left this to a woman. How is it possible for the girl to be so ignorant? ‘How is it possible,’ he heard himself say, ‘for you to be so ill-informed?’

Juno snapped, ‘I seem to have managed. As I said, my mother never told me anything. I gleaned hints from girls at school but they knew nothing, either. I did not want to embarrass my mother, so I didn’t ask. She seemed to assume that I would be informed by divine intervention—’

Robert said, ‘I always told Evelyn everything.’

Juno said, ‘Gosh.’ Then hesitantly she said, ‘Might I ask you?’

‘Ask away.’ Robert stretched his legs.

Looking away from him, Juno said, ‘You say it grows inside and moves about?’

‘Yes.’

‘But how does it get out?’

Flabbergasted, Robert asked, ‘Have you never seen an animal born? Puppies? Kittens? A foal?’

‘Never.’

Robert swallowed. ‘Juno,’ he said gently, ‘the baby gets out where it went in when you made love. It comes out head first between your legs.’

‘But how could it? Babies are huge! D’you mean to say? My God, you must be joking!’

‘I’m not.’

‘Is it possible?’ Now she turned to look at him. ‘Are you seriously telling me—’

‘Yes.’

‘No wonder it hurts.’

‘Yes.’

‘You are telling me the truth?’

‘Yes.’

‘What a performance!’

Robert said, ‘You could call it that.’

Juno groaned, ‘What a fix I’m in.’

‘It’s not a fix. It’s a child, not an illness. It’s something to be happy about.’

‘Happy?’

‘Yes.’

‘I am not happy.’ She had stopped crying. ‘I am angry.’

‘Ah.’

‘For being such a stupid gullible fool.’ She had raised her voice to a shout and the horses jingled their bits, laid back nervous ears.

Robert said, ‘Well,’ and crossed his legs while they sat on with their backs to the rock and Juno, nursing her anger, tried to arrange her thoughts.

Presently she said, half to Robert, half to herself, ‘My mother is forty, she has gone to Canada. She is going to marry again. I couldn’t believe it at first, at her age.’ Robert smiled and Juno went on, ‘She is marrying this man even older than her. He’s conventional as hell, but she seems happy.’ Robert raised his eyebrows and Juno went on, ‘I believe now that she was never really happy. My father shamed her by voting Labour, being a conscientious objector, going to prison, all that, but she made a good widow. Then along comes rich Mr Sonntag. Heaven opens and she plans for it to open for me, sees a vista of wealthy young Canadians to make me happy ever after—’

‘She packs your houndstooth overcoat—’

‘You remember that?’

‘And?’

‘And what on earth will she think now?’ Juno shouted. She was shaking with rage. ‘It will wreck her life,’ she cried, ‘shatter her conventions.’

Placidly Robert said, ‘There’s the Atlantic Ocean between you.’

‘So?’

‘So why tell her? Why spoil her happiness? Why not just shut up?’

Juno said, ‘Could I do that?’

Robert said, ‘I don’t see why not.’

‘But that would be lying to her.’

‘Not exactly, and surely you’ve lied to her before?’

‘Well, yes.’ (Of course I have, often, often.) Then Juno said, ‘I get the impression you quite want me to have this baby!’

Robert murmured, ‘It will give us all something other than the war to think about.’ And Juno thought, other than Evelyn, but did not voice it.

‘I
CAN’T JUST SIT
here.’ Juno sprang to her feet. ‘I shall be late for milking and Bert will revert to being testy.’

Robert watched her unhitch Millicent, swing into the saddle and clatter off down the hill. Slowly he got up, untied his horse and followed at a sedate pace, pausing now and again to listen to the pony’s diminishing hoofbeats.

What had possessed him to be so abrupt? Surely he could have found a more gentle approach? He was appalled by his bluntness and lack of tact, not used to encountering such complete ignorance, and yet—there by the path was a primrose in flower. Spring was on the way. He dismounted and, picking the flower, sniffed its wet and hopeful scent and threaded it through his buttonhole as Emma had once done. Had he ever managed to tell Evelyn what his mother was really like? A girl as delighted by the first primrose as by the discovery of something rare, a girl who had said, ‘Each time is the best,’ as she lay sated in his arms? Was it possible or was it essential for each to discover love for himself? What had Juno discovered? Impossible to ask. He had told her more in those few minutes than he could have told Evelyn. It was probable Evelyn had judged him by the sophisticated and knowledgeable females he had consorted with over the years. With none of them had he been in love. Had not Evelyn taken a leaf from his book and acted in much the same way, played the field, remained uncommitted, excusing his lack of commitment by his ill health?

‘But none of my girls or his were ignorant,’ Robert muttered as he remounted his horse. What was he to think now? ‘Juno must have known something,’ he said out loud. Was this sneaking feeling of hope mere wishful thinking? His horse, alert to the pain in his voice, twitched its ears back and forth as it picked its way down the stony track.

At the house the dog Jessie greeted him, her puppies tumbling clumsily after her. Soon she would leave them and be back to keeping him company. The pony Millicent was in her box and poking her nose out to whicker a greeting. There was no sign of Juno. Robert slid off his horse, took off its saddle and bridle and let it into the stable. Then he crossed the yard and went into the house, calling, ‘Ann?’ Ann should have been the person to tell Juno she was pregnant; it was a woman’s job. Anxiously he raised his voice, shouting, ‘Ann.’

‘I am here.’ Ann’s reply came from the depths of a cupboard. He could see her tweeded beam as she stacked plates onto a low shelf. ‘What is it? No need to shout.’

‘Have you seen Juno?’

‘She clattered into the yard a while ago, put Millicent in her box, went upstairs for a few minutes, then out again. Gone down to milk the cows. What’s the matter?’

‘Did she say anything?’

‘As I say, she came in and went out. What’s up?’

‘Oh God!’ Robert was hurrying out to where they could see Juno loping down the hill to the farm, not using the path but short-cutting down the slope, running sideways to keep her balance, her arms swinging in rhythm with her feet. ‘I can’t think what possessed me, what I have said may be irreparable. I am an idiot, I should have left it to you. It would have come so much better from you.’

‘What would? What’s going on? What’s all this about?’ Ann was irritated and showed it.

‘I made her weep. Her tears gushed. Oh, dear God!’

Ann said, ‘She isn’t weeping now.’

Juno had reached the bottom of the slope where the ground levelled out and was turning cartwheels, once, twice, three times, legs flailing the air, long hair brushing the grass. Upright again, she straightened the fisherman’s jersey and walked into the farmyard to vanish into the cowshed.

Ann said, ‘Whatever have you done to her? Ah, here comes the Army. They rang up after you went out. It’s about the bomb in the wood, it’s unexploded.’

Robert said, ‘Oh, bloody hell.’ With hand politely outstretched, he went to greet his visitor who, stepping out of his car followed by his sergeant, was introducing himself. ‘Captain Lazenby, sir, bomb disposal. Your ARP reported your bomb and I have come to have a dekko. It’s pretty dangerous if it’s live.’

Robert said, ‘Oh, ah, yes. It fell in my wood over there. My er—our—landgirl was collecting my cowman’s dog, who was mating with a neighbour’s bitch. Though what am I drivelling on about? It has no connection—’

‘Not the cartwheeler we saw just now as we drove up?’

‘Yes.’

‘Expressing a certain lightness of heart, joys of spring, that sort of thing?
Joie de vivre
?’

Robert said, ‘Complete change of climate.’

‘Not quite with you, sir.’ Captain Lazenby was puzzled.

Robert said, ‘Mood. I’m not quite with me, but let me show you where the thing fell.’ Pulling himself together, gathering his wits, frustrated, unable to wait to tackle Juno and shout, ‘What the hell’s going on? First it’s tears, now it’s cartwheels?’ But quietly he said, ‘It’s about fifty yards into the wood, it damaged a beech. No, it did not explode, the ARP’s report is correct.’

‘You say that girl was near when it fell?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then she had a lucky escape; if it had exploded, she would not be here to do cartwheels.’ Robert winced and the captain went on, ‘We will have to blow it up, sir. Defusing’s dodgy. I hope there won’t be too much mess. If you can show me where it is, we will get the job done.’

But Robert’s mind was elsewhere; had not Ann told him that Juno came into the house and went upstairs before running down to the farm? Of course! She was upstairs for a few minutes, discovered she had the curse and was not pregnant. This would account for the cartwheels. Relief, it was bloody relief made her cartwheel! Out loud Robert said, ‘Bloody fool!’

Captain Lazenby said, ‘Sir?’

‘Oh, not you, no, no. I just realized something, my mind was miles away. I beg your pardon. Oh dear, what a disappointing surprise!’ And again Captain Lazenby explained that he was at a loss, which irritated Robert into paying some attention. Striding ahead into the wood, he said, ‘Along here, follow me, my pigs roam here after acorns—Eleanor’s particularly keen—I let them roam in the autumn.’

‘Eleanor, sir?’

‘Prize sow. Her namesake had a sashaying walk, very much the same. She wore a black and white bathing dress. She was snub-nosed, too. I’ll show her to you presently. Here, it’s about here.’ Robert stamped the ground and poked with his stick, wishing this interfering young officer would go away so that he could get at Juno and—and what exactly? What was there for him to say? Was he supposed to be overjoyed? Turn a few cartwheels? Be enchanted that it was a false alarm? ‘There, the bloody thing’s there.’ He stamped his foot and drove his stick into the ground.