The Memory of Us: A Novel (18 page)

As I walked up to the house, I saw an unfamiliar car there and realized that I was in time for tea. I groaned and prepared myself for the none-too-subtle matchmaking session. I almost asked Kyle to drive me away, but he was right in telling me that I was going to need to face this. Maybe sooner
was
better than later so that I wouldn’t have to waste so much energy keeping up a charade.

Kissing him on the cheek and hoping that no one was looking out of a window to see it, I hopped out and promised to meet him the next day at the lake.

Although I expected it, I felt as if I stepped into an ambush.

“Julianne, there you are; we were worried!” Mother had put on her best social voice. I knew that she was disappointed that I hadn’t made this more of a priority, but she wasn’t going to let on to her guests. Hugging me heartily as if it were an everyday affection, she continued. “Mrs. Sheldon has brought the most
delicious
little cakes, and Simon has been telling us stories about his rowing tournament in Oxford.” She turned to the others. “Please excuse her attire. She had to attend a funeral this morning as part of a school project. She’s a diligent one, she is!”

The chatter went on mind-numbingly for a solid hour. I was polite and executed every pleasantry that was expected of me. All the while, I was planning the picnic lunch that I would make for the lake date tomorrow. Would Kyle like chicken sandwiches? What was his favorite flavor of tea? I was thrilled at the chance to learn the minutiae.

Mrs. Sheldon and Simon stood up, thanked us for our time, and, evidently interpreting my manners as willingness, arranged for another tea within the week. Simon went so far as to ask me if I would like to join him for supper tomorrow night, but I declined cordially, saying that I already had plans with a friend.
A male friend,
I thought, but I didn’t add that part.

Mother shut the door behind them and began flitting and swishing about. So eager was she to consider the afternoon a success, she chose to believe her own desires rather than what had actually transpired and put both hands on my shoulders.

“Isn’t Simon just marvelous? So smart, such a brilliant career ahead of him. You
should
go out with him tomorrow night. He’s quite a catch, Julianne; don’t let him go.”

“Mother, I told you that I already have plans.”

“Well, cancel them, dear. You can always see Lucille another time. She’ll understand.”

I saw that I was going to have to do this now or I would never have any peace about it. I took a deep breath and took a step forward.

“It’s not Lucille that I’m seeing tomorrow.”

“Who is it, then? Lotte? Anne?” Her expression disintegrated as she began to fear the truth.

“It’s Kyle, Mother.”

Chapter Seventeen

Hell hath no fury . . .
Suddenly I knew the meaning of this phrase, and Mother was the woman scorned. Her face turned so red that her rouged cheeks disappeared, and her hands clutched her hips.

“What do you mean, it’s Kyle? His father is dead now. You don’t have any more nursing duties there.”

“I’m not seeing Kyle because of his father. I’m seeing Kyle because I’m in love with him. And he is with me.”

There. I’d said it. Not even the Germans could drop a bomb like this one.

She raised her hands and shook her finger in my face. “Helen Julianne Westcott, that is
completely
unacceptable. I thought we had settled this already. It’s entirely inappropriate!”

“How is this inappropriate? He has been a perfect gentleman to me.”

“He is not a gentleman, he is a
gardener
—as you yourself said! And didn’t you also say that he was going to be a priest? He’s a
Catholic
, Julianne.” She said it like it was a bad word. “He’s Irish, and he has no money. Do you want me to go on?”

I was sure that she could if I let her. Clearly, she was ready to unleash her arsenal.

“I don’t care what you think he is, Mother. I love him. I didn’t want to love him, and I tried not to. But I do. And you can’t change that!”

I stormed upstairs to lock my door and ignored the knocking that followed. Putting my pillow over my ears, I heard, “Just wait until I tell your father about this!”

An hour later I heard a gentler knock and the hesitant sound of my father’s voice. “Julianne, may I come in?”

I blew my nose and uncurled my legs to go unlock the door. Turning around, I was back on my bed before he’d had the chance to turn the knob. Resignation on his face, he tried to sit down beside me, but I stretched out my legs so that there was no room. He pulled out the chair that sat next to my vanity. Had I been in the mood to appreciate it, his heavy frame would have looked comical in the wiry little seat with the pink-fringed cushion.

Neither of us spoke right away, each hoping that the other would. I wasn’t going to give in. I wanted to hear what he had to say first.

“Princess. Your mother told me everything that happened.”

“Did she tell it only from
her
point of view?”

“Naturally, and that’s why I want to hear from you. Please understand that your mother is upset, too. She only wants what’s best for you, and so do I.”

“Simon Sheldon and all of the others that she plans for me are
not
what’s best for me. I think that I am old enough to determine that.”

“Of course you are, and I trust you. She will, too; just give her time. But please look at this from our point of view. You are our little girl. You live in London now, studying to do great things as a nurse.”

I looked up quizzically. It was the first time that
nurse
and
great
had ever been used in the same sentence here.

He continued. “Yes, I realize that. It’s what you want, which is why I’m paying your tuition for it. The point is, you have so many things ahead of you. Don’t make big decisions right now. Not just about this young man. I’d say that about
any
young man.” He paused and a more severe look came over his face. “But I will put my foot down about this particular one. Your mother says that he’s Catholic.”

“Yes, what about it?”

“You know how I feel about it. They are all damnable, unpatriotic papists, and their sympathies lie with the kind of people who would destroy the crown and commerce.”

“That’s a rather sweeping generalization, don’t you think?”

“You haven’t known as many as I have, and you’re just going to have to trust me on it. This, I absolutely forbid.”

“But—”

“I’m not hearing it, Julianne. Now you’re going to get my full support on this nursing thing, and I’m going to ask your mother to back off with all of the rest of it. But you must obey me on this.”

My face tingled with tears I fought to hold back. I had committed to being truthful. To try to help him understand and soften his prejudices. But in the face of such absolute disapproval, I had no choice if there was going to be any kind of future with Kyle.

“Yes, Father.” I stumbled over the lie. “I’ll—I’ll try to see it your way.”

“That’s my girl. Now have some patience with your mother, and wait to get serious about any boy until you are finished with school.”

I nodded, biting my lower lip, not wanting to speak any more words of deception.

“Good.” He made his way out. “Now why don’t you dry those pretty green eyes of yours and come downstairs.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to yet, but I will shortly.”

He left my room, and I listened to his footsteps descending the stairs. Exhausted, I put my head down for a nap.

I only saw Kyle once that week, when I sneaked out for our picnic, and I was unsure when the next opportunity would arise. He worked every day, and my parents kept strict tabs on my evening activities. With Lucille out at the seashore with her family, I’d lost my usual excuse for going out. Mother didn’t speak to me most of this time. When she was home, she sat fingering those blasted swatches and tapping at a drained glass of ice cubes at her side.

Being away from Kyle was agonizing, so I sent a note to his flat, suggesting a plan to meet up at least once a week at the lake at Newsham Park. Our routine became to sit on opposite sides of a particular park bench, lest a friend of my parents’ should walk by and see us. We only spoke when we were out of earshot of passersby and kept our focus on the ducks and children.

“I miss you,” I’d say, longing to lean over and nuzzle myself into his neck.

“I miss you, too, Julianne.”

“You know, Mother and Father have a supper engagement on Tuesday evening. I want to see you and not here at the park bench.”

“I can’t. I need to go to Durham and pick up all my things.”

“You didn’t bring all of them back with you at the end of last term?”

“I thought I’d be returning. But I’ll just be taking over my father’s work, now that a little petite thing has bewitched me.” He looked around to see that no one was near and reached across the bench to poke me in the side.

“Well, how about Thursday, then? They’re meeting for supper with one of Father’s clients from Amsterdam. I’m sure I could get away.”

“I can’t. I’m working on the Whiteheads’ grounds then.” All of a sudden his expression became very serious. “But it brings up what I wanted to talk to you about. You know I want to be with you every chance I can get. But we can’t keep this up, and I don’t like being deceitful. When are we going to tell your parents?”

“I don’t know yet. Just give me time.”

“How much time, Julianne? What are we waiting for? Be honest with me. Is this just some fling for you? Is this some rich-girl rite of passage?”

“Of course not. You know that!” I had never heard him say a cruel word before.

“Well, then you’re going to have to tell me something I can believe. Do you think hiding your head in the sand is going to get you everything you want? Because it’s time to make a decision. Now.”

“I know,” I cried, appalled at the sudden turn of the conversation. More so, embarrassed since I knew he was right. “But you’re asking the impossible. And you don’t have parents whose approval you need.”

My hand flew to my mouth, regretting those words the second they left me.

He shot me a wounded look. This charade was wearing on us both.

“I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry. Kyle, I’m sorry!” I glanced around. A couple was walking by, but they were pointing to the boys with their boats. I reached across the bench and rubbed his arm with my hand. “I just mean that it’s complicated. Look. I’m all they have left. And despite our differences, they’ve tried in their own ways to give me a great life. This will ruin them. Personally. Socially. I don’t know if my father would ever forgive me, and I couldn’t live with that. Not to mention that we have to face the very real possibility that they will cut me off, and what are we going to live on then? Love? Even I know that there’s no ‘happily ever after’ when the bills come due.”

He sighed, and the silence between us made me feel crazy. Was it all over before it had begun?

At last, he looked at me and ran his fingers through my hair, seemingly unconcerned as to who might see us.

“Yes, it’s complicated. Yes, there will be difficulties, and I will do whatever it takes to provide for you. But it’s worth it. Anything worth having is worth sacrificing for.” He looked at me sincerely. “I’d sacrifice anything for you, Julianne. I love you.” It was the first time he’d spoken those words.

“I love you,” I whispered back, my heart beating at this simple exchange. “You’re right. I’ll do something soon. I promise. But please be patient just a little longer.”

I stood up as part of our rehearsed performance and opened my parasol, the largest one I could find. It was an old-fashioned accessory, but an ideal one for our purposes. Positioning it just so, he blocked us from anyone’s view and gave me a kiss that was all too brief. And then another.

“Until then,” he said, lingering just longer than was advisable.

“Until then.”

I walked home with a weary smile on my face.

After weeks of good behavior, Mother must have been satisfied with my apparent acquiescence. She came into the kitchen nonchalantly one afternoon while I was slicing an apple.

“Julianne, darling.”

I was startled to hear her voice. The knife slipped from my hands and nicked my finger. I dipped a towel in my glass of water and held it against my finger to stop the trickle of blood.

“Mrs. King had to leave for Birmingham because she received word that her mother is seriously ill. She may be with her for a long while.”

I closed my eyes, trying to remember if that was supposed to mean something to me.

“So I have been asked to fill in for her on the festival committee.”

“I thought that if you chaired it once, you wouldn’t be asked again.”

“Yes, that’s true, but we must rise to the challenges that are presented to us, mustn’t we?”

I nearly choked at these words. I couldn’t help but think of Charles when she said things like this.

“Anyway, you did such a good job of running the booths last year that I would like for you to do it again.”

Maybe this was her way to mend fences. These kinds of events were the one thing we did well together. Maybe this was my last chance to grow an affection between us, even a small one, in the hopes that I wouldn’t lose that chance forever.

“I can do that. What do you need?”

Encouraged, she pulled out a chair, sat down, and showed me all of the notes that Mrs. King had left for her.

“Well, this year we are raising money for the Smithdown Hospital. They are building a new maternity wing, and the committee voted to send the money there. Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Ward are at it again, so I think that we should step in and decide on a theme for the ring toss on our own.”

“You know, last year the candle theme was popular since we were raising money for the cathedral. This is a maternity wing, right? Hmm . . .” I thought for a minute and came up with an idea that I knew she would like. “What about baby bottles?”

It went on like that, the festival providing us fodder for neutral conversation. We reviewed the plans, made notes for improvements, and agreed that we needed to get Lucille involved. My time spent with Mother planning the festival booths bordered on enjoyable. True to her word to Father, she’d held off playing matchmaker.

I was so happy when Lucille returned. We fell into last year’s routine as we planned for the event. But more than anything, it was good to have my best friend back. She reluctantly agreed to be my cover story whenever I wanted to see Kyle.

“I don’t like the deception any more than he does, Jul.”

“You think I like it? I’m just waiting for the right time.”

“When will the right time ever come? When you’ve got twenty thousand children?”

She didn’t continue the lecture, though, and we resumed the summertime joys that we’d shared for so many years. She became quite a threat in backgammon, and we pored through magazines with movie updates. We also made it out to several movies during that month, although the Movietone news clips shown beforehand were increasingly disheartening.

Germany had just ordered Jews to add the name “Israel” or “Sara” to their first names to make it easier to identify their ethnicity. Along with the rest of the country, I was increasingly alarmed at hearing these kinds of things, and I couldn’t help but think of people our family knew—friends, neighbors—who might have to endure this injustice if Hitler gained power in Britain.

Listening to government radio addresses in the evening was becoming a favorite pastime of Father’s. Although he clearly didn’t want war to break out, he also had to position his business for what would certainly be an increased demand for his services during wartime. His warehouses would be very valuable, with their proximity to the Liverpool port. But they could also be targets.

At least his anti-German rants had distracted him from his Catholic ones, and I no longer heard about the IRA.

Kyle tried to talk to me about war—men seemed to be electrified by the topic—but he would stop when he saw how much it upset me. I remembered my father talking about the countless boys lost in the last war. It was not only for Kyle that the dread of the topic unsettled me, but the thought of another generation of our young men fighting once again.

It was the British way to grin and bear it, though, and I was not going to let faraway hostilities dampen our enthusiasm for the charity event ahead. I stayed over at Lucille’s house the night before the festival, and she let me experiment with hairstyles. It was her turn to participate in the auction, but she wasn’t looking forward to it as much as she had expected to. Ben was now in her life, and although he had promised to bid on her, she was worried about someone else winning. Even if it was only for an afternoon, she didn’t like the idea of being paired off with anyone other than him. She thought about dropping out of it, but he called her a silly goose and told her not to worry. Lucille capitulated when we found her a stunning red gown to match the garnet necklace from last year and started to enjoy the idea of dressing up and taking part.