It was at this moment that real life caught up with her again: that was how Frances felt it. In the months no, years now -she had spent with Rupert she had become a different person, slowly learning to take happiness for granted. Good Lord, just imagine, if there had been no Rupert she would have gone on in the same dull willed routine of duty, and without love, sex, intimacy.
Rupert went off with the children to their mother's and found what he had dreaded. Years ago, after the birth of Margaret, she had suffered a depression, a real one. He had seen her through it, she had got better, but lived in terror that it might recur. It had. Meriel sat curled up in the corner of a sofa, staring at nothing, in a dirty dressing-gown, her hair unwashed and uncombed. The children stood on either side of their father, staring at their mother, then pressed close to him so he could put his arms around them.
'Where is Jaspar?' he asked the silent woman, who was evidently a long way off, inside the dreadful suffering of the depressive.
After a time he repeated the question, and she said, irritated at the interruption, ' Gone. '
Is he coming back?'
'No.'
That seemed to be all he was going to get out of her, but then she said, in a thick indifferent mutter, not moving, not turning her head, ' Better take the kids. They'll get nothing here. '
Rupert collected up books, toys, clothes, school gear, under the direction of Margaret and William, and then back to Meriel. 'What are you going to do?' he asked. A long silence. She shook her head, meaning, Leave me alone, and then when the three were already at the door, she said in the same tone, ' Get me into hospital. Any hospital. I don't care. '
The children were installed again in their old rooms, and at once the whole flat was awash with their possessions. They were frightened, and silent.
Rupert rang their doctor, who would arrange for Meriel to go into a psychiatric ward. He tried to ring Jaspar, but his call was not returned.
Frances was having hard, cool thoughts. She knew that Jaspar was not likely to come back to Meriel, if he had gone off in fright at the experience of being with a depressive. He was ten years younger, was an ornament of the fashion world, designing sports clothes and making money. His name was often in the newspapers. Why had he taken on a woman with two half-grown children? Rupert had said he believed the young man had enjoyed seeing himself as mature and responsible, proving that he was a serious person. He had the reputation of being too trendy for his own good, drugs, wild parties all that. To which scene he had presumably returned. That meant that Meriel was without a man, and would very likely want her husband back. And here were two children in emotional shock, and here she was, a mother substitute. And yes, she was suffering that awed and appalled feeling that comes when life recurs, in a familiar pattern. She thought, I am in danger of being landed with these kids no, I have been landed with them. Do I want that?
Margaret was twelve, William was ten. They would soon be adolescent. She was not afraid that Rupert would let her down, relinquish responsibility to her, but that their intimacy would not only suffer it would have to and it might disappear, sucked into the insensate demands of teenagers. But she liked Rupert so much... she did so like him... she loved the man. She could say, seriously, she had not loved till now yes, she would say yes to whatever turned up. And after all, even depressions take themselves off, and then the children would want to be with their mother.
From the hospital where Meriel was came scrawls, you could not call them letters, in wild handwriting. 'Rupert, don't let the children come here. It won't be good for them. Frances, Margaret has asthma, she needs a new prescription. '
The doctors, telephoned by Rupert, said she was very ill but would recover. Her previous illness had lasted two years.
Frances and Rupert lay side by side in the dark, her head on his right shoulder, his right hand on her right breast. Her hand lay on his inner thigh, her knuckles against his balls, a soft but self-respecting weight that was giving her confidence. This connubial and time-honoured scene was how they spent the halfhour before sleep, whether love-making had taken place or not. The subject that both had been skirting around now had to be dealt with.
Where was Meriel when she was ill, those two years?'
'Mostly in bed. She wasn't up to much.'
' She can't stay in hospital for two years. '
Where was Meriel when she was ill, those two years?'
'Mostly in bed. She wasn't up to much.'
' She can't stay in hospital for two years. '
No, she'll need looking after. '
I suppose Jaspar isn't going to rally around?'
Is it likely?'
He spoke quietly, even jauntily, but with a forlorn bravery that melted her heart. ' Look, Frances, this is just as bad as it can be for you. Don't imagine I don't know it. ' She wasn't going to say it wasn't bad, so hesitated, and he came in quickly with, I won't blame you if you left...' His voice was thick.
Im not leaving. I'm just thinking. ' He kissed her cheek, from which she learned that his face was wet.
'If you sold this flat and we put our money together, and bought a big flat, even then there would be the problem it would be the first wife and the second incumbent in separate rooms, like an African polygamist. '
' Or like Thurber's cartoon. I don't really see Meriel on the top of a cupboard. '
They laughed. They did laugh.
'Do we have enough money for a house? she asked.
'Not in any decent part of London. Not a big one.'
'I take it Meriel is not going to be earning?'
' She was never one for a career. ' His voice was dry, indeed: she knew that here was a history. ' An old-fashioned woman, that's Meriel. Or the last word in feminism. And of course she wasn't working when she was with Jaspar, she was enjoying the high life. So, yes, we can take it that she will have to be kept. ' A pause. ' They did say, the doctors, that we have to assume the depression will recur. '
'I've been thinking, Rupert. It would be two wives in one house, but at least not on the same floor.'
I gather you've done that one already?'
Im an old hand at it. '
Are you planning to marry me, Frances?'
'It would certainly be better for the children if I did. Fancy-woman into wife. Never underestimate the conservatism of children.'
Frances telephoned Colin, asked if they could talk, and he suggested she should come and he would cook. She found herself back in Julia's house, in the kitchen, at a table which was the smallest she had seen it. Two chairs. Colin arrived, all energetic welcome.
They embraced.
Frances said, Where's the little dog?'
He hesitated, turned his back to lift plates from the refrigerator using it as she had done so often to avoid or postpone notice, set cold soup in front of her, and sat opposite her.
' Vicious is with Sophie. She's downstairs. '
She laid down her spoon, and absorbed the shock. ' Sophie and you are together?'
'She's ill. It's a kind of breakdown. The man after Andrew -no good. She appealed to me.'
She had taken all this in and now applied herself to the soup. He was a good cook. Well, that certainly puts a different face on it.'
' Enlighten me. '
She did, and he showed his grasp of the essentials with, Well, Ma, you' re a glutton for punishment. '
' The thing is, I really do...she had been going to say, like, but said, ' love this man. I do. '
' He's a good bloke,' said her son.
'Have you moved in to Julia's flat yet?'
' It's such a period piece, I can't bear to demolish it. But yes, of course we're going to use it.'
'Suppose we put Rupert's wife in the basement flat?'
' Just like poor Phyllida. '
But I hope not for ever. Rupert says that Meriel couldn't wait to get rid of him. More fool her. '
' Right then. Meriel in the basement. Sophie and me at the top of the house. We will use Sylvia's old room, and I will go on working in the sitting-room. So you and Rupert and the two kids will have the six rooms, on Andrew's floor and mine, and your rooms. And of course, there is this ever faithful kitchen.'
I wouldn't have thought of it if I didn't know the house was virtually empty. And it would give us a breathing space...
'It's not a bad idea.With the energy he brought to everything, he removed the soup plates and produced grilled fish. He poured wine, he drank his down, poured himself some more.
And you and Sophie?'
' Andrew wasn't good for Sophie. It was more of the same. She says Roland was like a black hole when it came to the crunch, and Andrew well... every good intention, but he is a bit of a lightweight, you'll have to agree to that? He doesn't engage,' explained her son, with a grin that expected complicity in understanding. Whereas I, ' he said, stating his case, ' take people on. I have victims in my past to prove it, well-gnawed and mangled, but taken on. No, you don't know about them. I've taken Sophie on.'
'Two loonies in one house,' said Frances.
Elegantly put. '
'And not for the first time. But never mind, with children at ten and twelve, they'll be grown-up soon, won't they?'
'In the first place, I haven't noticed Andrew and me or Sylvia not needing a family base, even when grown-up. And in the second place well, I wouldn't have understood your peremptory ways with time until recently. What's four years? Six years? Ten? Nothing. A mere breath. There's nothing like a death to bring that home... and there's another thing. Has it occurred to you that the kids might prefer you to their delinquent mum?'
Delinquent! She's ill. '
She went off with her demon lover, didn't she? She ditched them?'
No, she took them with her. But now they' re ditched. '
I hope they' re at least passable. Are they?'
So far they've been on their best behaviour. I don't know. '
Aren't you haunted by all this recurrence?'
Yes. Oh, yes, I am. And it's worse than you know. Meriel is the daughter ofSebastian Heath you probably don't remember that name? You do? He was a famous communist, just like Johnny. He was arrested by the comrades in the Soviet Union and disappeared for ever. '