Nine
For the first time in weeks Fiona scrambled out of bed with some energy and feeling hopeful and excited. She glanced at the little square-faced clock on the bedside cabinet. It was seven thirty. Guy was motoring up to Dartmoor Prison today after receiving a pass to visit Aidan. Guy was taking with him at his own expense cigarettes and toiletries for Aidan. Aidan, a man of movie heartthrob looks, hated not to be well groomed. Guy was also taking long loving letters from Fiona containing glowing details of the lovely, spacious house she and Finn were guests in, and how beautiful Aidan’s new baby daughter was. Fiona had added that Eloise had not been christened yet and he could change her name or add others to it, as he liked. Guy had also taken photos of Eloise. Worried about her still haggard looks, Fiona was sending a snap of herself taken soon after she had met Aidan, as a vivacious teen besotted and adoring of him. Finn had adamantly refused to have his photo taken.
‘Please, Finn, do it for me. Your father will be proud to see the muscles you’ve developed while working on Merrivale. I’ve written to him all about the renovations and changes under way, and how good the locals have been to us, that most of them have welcomed us against all the odds. It will make him feel like it’s his home to come out to. When he finishes reading all my letters he will feel he knows Dorrie, Greg and Verity.’
Finn had just arrived back at Sunny Corner after eight hours’ work with Greg, sanding and varnishing floors. He was dusty and dirty and smelled strongly of the clear varnish they had used. He’d reported that Hector Evans had been digging over some of the back garden and Denny Vercoe had sawn the felled branches into logs.
Fiona had tried to be patient with Finn, for she could see he was weary and his limbs were aching and he only wanted to clean up and spend some time with Eloise. Later he would stroll down to The Orchards and spend an hour or so with his new friend Sam Lawry. Fiona was heartened at how quickly Finn had made a friend of his own age and had fitted into Nanviscoe life. He had even attended a meeting about some proposed new building.
‘I’ve told you a hundred times I don’t want anything to do with him ever again. He’s no good. He’ll certainly be interested in Miss Verity,’ Finn had bit back. ‘He’s always made a beeline for attractive young women.’
‘What does that mean?’ Fiona had wailed, slipping into the depression that was always a ready companion to her.
‘Wake up, Mum, what do you think it means? He’s shunned us completely since he was sent down. He didn’t respond to the news of Eloise’s birth, he doesn’t care about her. He’s probably only agreed to see Guy to tell him to tell you to get it into your head that he’s finished with his family.’
Fiona had put her hands over her ears. ‘Don’t say that! You don’t really know how Aidan’s feeling. I think he’s ashamed of everything and can’t bear to face us. He probably thinks we’d be better off without him.’
‘That last part is true. Without him around coming up with scams and schemes – and face it, Mum, get-rich schemes are all he ever talked about – we’ll have the chance of making a life for ourselves in the cottage. Can’t you see how lucky we are, having Guy and Mrs R and the others putting themselves out for us? How many people left in the lurch get that sort of help? I’ll get a proper job, I’ll find something, I’ll work like a navvy to support us and pay rent to Guy, and then we can work on repaying all these people’s kindness. My father doesn’t want the responsibility of his new baby but Eloise is your responsibility, Mum. You’ve got to stop thinking about yourself and what you’ve lost and get well and start taking care of your baby. The three of us have been given a fresh start and you’re the one who needs to pull her weight to give us the best chance for it to work.’
‘You’re wrong about your father, Finn, you’ll see,’ Fiona had confronted him angrily, and then purposefully put on a wan expression begging for understanding. ‘I’m sorry things have been so hard for you. I am grateful to you and to everyone else. I’m sure when Aidan sees what everyone has done for us he will be grateful too and it will give him the impetus to change his ways and settle down quietly with us. I’m not totally blind to his faults. I know about his other women, but he’s a very handsome man and floozies always throw themselves at successful men. I believe prison will change him for the better. He’s been too ambitious in the past but after suffering all the deprivations of prison life he’ll come out with the right frame of mind to make a fresh start with us. I wish you would write to him, Finn. Any man would hate to know his son is against him.’
‘I’m sorry I can’t share your optimism, Mum. Let’s see what happens when Guy talks to him.’
So sure was Fiona of her belief in Aidan that she rallied her hopes. She was actually singing while she trotted along to the bathroom. She liked everything about Sunny Corner, its light and fresh location, the house’s gentle countrified style, the sheltered peaceful garden. The plumbing worked perfectly, which had not been the case in her former more modern home, and the porcelain bath with its big brass taps was comfort and luxury. After she had run a few inches of warm soothing water she threw in a handful of rose-scented crystals from a packet Verity had given her. She had spoken little to her hosts’ modish, sometimes sad, but more often confident niece and resolved to get to know Verity better. She was quite a few years younger than Fiona and something of a ‘princess’ type, but Verity was on the same footing, being without her man, and she would be a good friend to have. She heard Eloise begin to whimper in the next room, Finn’s room, and a layer of deadened skin was peeled back from Fiona’s heart as she felt a tug of need to go to her baby, yet she couldn’t manage to make her feet work to do so. Her little girl was waking up and in need of a nappy change, a feed and to be dressed for the day. She whispered very softly, ‘Eloise, don’t cry . . .’
Then she heard Dorrie’s familiar light tread mounting the stairs and going in to see Eloise. ‘Hello, darling,’ Dorrie cooed. ‘Ready to come downstairs with me and Corky?’
As Fiona heard Dorrie carrying her baby downstairs away from her she felt a stinging surge of jealousy. People, especially those in this lovely house, were so kind and only God knew how she would have coped without them, but they were behaving as if she had no place in her baby’s life. But of course, that was her own doing, something she couldn’t help, and these same kind people understood and were arranging things to give her lots of peace and quiet to help her to recover from the last traumatic months.
Every now and then Dorrie or Nurse Rumford would encourage her to hold Eloise when she was beautifully wrapped in a shawl and sleeping soundly, and Fiona’s only reaction was to touch Eloise’s tiny face or delicate fingers. Yet, just now, she had felt the urge to go to her baby. That was a good sign. She was moving forward at last. Yesterday, while reclining in Sunny Corner’s garden, she had accepted that her old life was gone and she was thankful for it. Without the same conditions and situations to come back to Aidan would not fall back into his old ways, always plotting how to make fast money. He had brought himself down and Fiona was glad about that too; he would no longer be able to swagger about, always wanting to be seen as the best, the top dog. The hardships of prison life might make him see how futile his old ways were, and how much he’d once had and lost. Surely he wouldn’t want to risk all that again. This dreadful downfall might be the best thing to have happened. Aidan would be proud of Finn’s sterling efforts and hard work.
Looking into a mirror on the bathroom wall Fiona winced at her grey wasted reflection. ‘The state of me!’ she gasped, horrified, seeing the reality of how her months of hopelessness had rendered her. ‘Aidan wouldn’t be proud of me looking like this. I’ve let him down.’ Her husband had fallen in love with her for her classical beauty and flair, showing his pride in how she had run his house and her hostess skills by flourishing expensive gifts. She was an excellent cook, something she had enjoyed even when struggling with the rationing.
She couldn’t go on moping and letting her looks keep sliding downhill; she must change for Aidan’s sake. He was a man who required a lot of love-making and he had made much of her feminine curves, but he couldn’t be expected to desire her if she looked like a skinny drab. Aidan had eyes for beautiful women, and Fiona had overlooked his affairs. All she asked was that he always came back to her. By the description she had heard of the local women Fiona had little to worry about in regard to Aidan’s wandering ways, except for Verity, but it was unlikely she would still be here at the time of Aidan’s release. However, there was the naturally gorgeous Belle Lawry to think about. When the neighbour’s wife called here it was easy to see that Finn was infatuated with her. Fiona mustn’t allow any woman to outmatch her. She wouldn’t aim for her chic image of old but would work to acquire the healthy vivacious country kind of beauty.
She would soak herself in the bath and call on her old expertise to make the most of herself. She would get out her hair curlers. She would ask Verity if she had a little spare make-up and cold cream. It was a lovely mild sunny day and she would cuddle her baby as she relaxed. And she would ask Dorrie if she could make the luncheon, her special vegetable omelette. There was no shortage of eggs from Dorrie’s hens. She chuckled as she pictured Dorrie’s delight. What a dear little woman she was. And Finn would be thrilled when he got back from the cottage with Greg, both dusty and gritty and ravenous for an hour’s break.
Merrivale, our new home, Fiona thought optimistically, and this was going to be a good day, the best in ages, she just knew it. She would take a look at the curtain materials, a good choice thanks to Guy’s connections and generosity, brought over by the seamstress Jean Vercoe. The podgy mother was awaiting decisions, and Fiona would make them rather than leaving the responsibility to Dorrie. To top off this lovely day, when Guy returned with messages or even a letter from Aidan her new life would really begin. Aidan loved her, she had never doubted it no matter what he had done, and when he was reassured that she loved him as much as ever, he would reach out to her again.
Guy arrived at Sunny Corner late in the evening. Dorrie showed him into the sitting room. ‘You speak to Fiona and Finn alone, Mr Carthewy. The rest of us will clear out and bring in coffee when you’re ready. We have saved some dinner for you. I’m sure you must be hungry after your long drive.’
In the study-cum-library, Dorrie turned to Greg and Verity. ‘What do you make of his expression? It was a raft of emotions. Will Fiona be receiving the news she’s been longing for, I wonder?’
Guy stood awkward and stiffly on the Oriental rug, massaging the tiredness squeezing his eyes.
‘Do sit down next to me, Guy.’ Fiona patted the red and cream striped, squab-cushioned sofa. ‘You are quite worn out. Please don’t beat about the bush. Tell us what Aidan said. Have you brought anything from him?’ She glanced smugly at Finn. Her belief in her husband had been growing all day. After cuddling Eloise and tending to her all afternoon following cooking her much appreciated lunch, she was in no doubt Aidan would find his daughter as beautiful and as irresistible as she now did.
Guy sighed, working his shoulders to unravel some of the tension. He was also furious over Aidan Templeton-Barr’s blasé attitude towards him. After being bodily searched and his gifts for the criminal pulled apart, he had waited among some shady-looking male characters and foul-mouthed, or weeping, or downtrodden women for the afternoon visiting time to begin. The atmosphere was rank with sweat, disinfectant and despair, broken intermittently by an ironic joke. He had sat and waited again where he had been stationed across the iron grid to face Aidan. He had tapped his fingertips together and blew out his frustration as the minutes had ticked by and then some more. Bloody cheek of the man; he had agreed to see Guy, and at the very least he should have the decency to face him on time. Then he wondered if Aidan was well – perhaps he had been beaten up. That wasn’t unlikely; he had a big brash mouth on him.
Finally a warder came to him. ‘Templeton-Barr is refusing to come out of his cell. He says to give you this and that you might as well clear off. Sorry you had a waste of time, sir, but that’s what most of the inmates are, a waste of time.’
‘Aidan didn’t want to see me. All I’ve got for you, Fiona, is this.’ Guy put his hand into his inside breast pocket. He handed over a prison-issue envelope. It had been censored and resealed by the prison, but Guy wouldn’t have dreamed of reading it. He had seen how Aidan had addressed the envelope, to Mrs Fiona Templeton, not Mrs Aidan Templeton-Barr. Guy was gratified that he was getting the result he wanted, but he was anxious about how Fiona was going to react to her impending heartache. It was so good to see her dressed elegantly again and wearing a little make-up but he feared she would be about to take to her bed again and sink into a deeper despair than before.
Fiona had read her name on the letter and was sitting up rigidly.
‘What does the letter say, Mum?’ Finn asked. He had a good idea by her stricken face and Guy’s embarrassed fidgeting. He clenched his fists, bracing himself for a fresh, fiercer bout of weeping and wailing from his mother.
Fiona tore open the envelope and let it fall to the floor. She held the prison notepaper before her eyes and scanned it, then said in a disembodied voice, ‘You want to know what it says? What I should have known it would. I’ll read it to you.’
Finn wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it now, remembering his father had once been a good father to him really. There had been boys at his school who had been beaten, ignored or cruelly ridiculed by their fathers. There had been orphaned or fatherless boys, and one with a stepfather who bitterly resented him and had made his life hell.
Fiona began to read, one hoarse word at a time. ‘“Fiona, I thought you might have taken the hint by my long silence and broken off with me. You haven’t, so I’ll put this to you straight. It’s over between us. You were a good and loyal wife to me but it’s not enough for me to want to return to you. I met someone else months before my arrest and she is waiting for me. We will be setting up home in a secret location. I feel bad about the mess I left you in but you have Carthewy looking out for you now. Be sensible and take advantage of it. There is no point in me seeing the baby, but I’ll treasure the snaps of her. Finn has made it plain that he’s finished with me, so it is best I make a clean break from all of you. I am glad to know you have help from your new friends. Lean on them. Make your future with them. There will be no point in you writing to me again, accept that you would only be flogging a dead horse. I wish you well. A.”’
Her eyes seething, Fiona crumpled the letter and threw it down. Finn was glad. Guy was glad. They were both thinking it good she was angry with Aidan. It would help crush her yearning for him, help heal her heartbreak. Without looking at Guy, she said tightly, ‘Thank you for making that wasted journey, Guy.’
She got up and went robot-like to Finn. ‘Well, you must be happy. You got exactly what you wanted. Aidan would never have wanted to come back to me with his son showing him such disrespect as to shun him.’
Swinging back her hand she smashed it violently across Finn’s cheek making his head lurch to the side. ‘I hate you for it and I’ll never, ever forgive you!’