have been... what you said... but he wouldnât have wanted to harm anyone, you can be sure of that. I think you should try to get your mother to believe he was going to America intending to make his fortune before sending for her. I think she might find some comfort in that, donât you?â
âUncle Ted thinks...â I started to say, when heâd left and my mother and I were on our own.
âIt doesnât matter what your Uncle Ted or anybody else thinks,â she said. âIâve laid him to rest now. He left me. And then he died. Itâs a sad, sad story, but now itâs over. Iâm sorry you never knew him, but now itâs over... Do you think Iâm hard?â
âHard? Youâve mourned him for fifteen years.â
âFifteen years and three months. And now itâs over.â
It was over, all the waiting and crying. But nothing took its place. There was never anyone else in her life.
But there was suddenly another voice in my head. The busy-body, Maggie Davies. âAnd poor old George Williams will be at the funeral as well. Because he was very friendly, you know, with your mother in these latter years.â
Hers was the last voice I heard before falling asleep.
Â
I slept deeply, but woke before it was light. Iâd been dreaming again about the abortion I had three years ago.
Iâd come off the pill because of some headaches Iâd been having, and in no time at all discovered I was pregnant. I was very excited for a day or so.
âWhat if I told you I was pregnant?â I asked Paul when he came back from some foreign trip.
âYou canât be, love. Weâve been tremendously careful.â
âWhat if I told you I wanted to be pregnant?â
âWell, that would be different, wouldnât it? If you really wanted a baby Iâm sure you could persuade me to go along with it.â He sounded very tired.
âYouâd have to be persuaded, though? You wouldnât be enthusiastic?â
âI wouldnât be madly enthusiastic, darling, because of my age. Iâm almost fifty, you know that, and besides I thought weâd decided against it.â
âYouâre right. We had.â
âAnd youâre very nearly forty, love, though God knows you donât look it. I think we should consider this quite carefully, donât you? About how old weâd be when the child was a teenager, and so on. I mean, if we did decide to go ahead.â
âWeâd certainly have to consider it very carefully,â I said, all the joy seeping out of me.
âAnd I wonder what Annabel and Selena would think about it,â Paul continued. âTheyâre at an age to be rather upset, donât you think? Weâd have to consider the effect it might have on them.â
That seemed the last straw. âSay no more,â I said, âIâve decided against it. We wonât speak of it again.â
I gave up without a struggle. I made an appointment at a private clinic, timed for Paulâs next trip abroad, and went through with the termination, knowing quite well that Iâd suffer after it. Yes, I suffered after it. Yes, I regretted it bitterly.
I never mentioned it to anyone except to my dresser at the theatre. She was a motherly fifty year old who knew immediately that something was troubling me.
âCome on, tell Nancy all about it. Whatâs wrong with you?â
âWhat makes you think thereâs anything wrong with me?â
âYou look different. Your face is clenched and your skin is wet as a fish. Your old man been playing you up, has he?â
âItâs not that.â
âWhat, then?â
âOh Nancy, I had an abortion yesterday. And I feel awful.â
She put her arms round me and hugged me. She said nothing for a long time, but I could feel her sympathy. I felt she must have had an abortion herself at some stage, to understand so much. She didnât