[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
'A migraine,' Jeb said, and they pretended to believe it.
As Joanne walked with Jeb after dinner in the moon- fight, he said to her,
'She'll get over it. It was another shock on top of a lot of others. Clea's having
a bad time coming to grips with her age, and my illness didn't make it any
easier for her. Then your marriage ... she feels old and she's frightened. Give
her time, Joanne.'
'I will,' she promised.
In bed with Ben that night she sighed, 'Why is life so complicated? How
much easier it is for birds!'
'Birds?' he laughed.
'They just get the urge and build a nest,' she said, and he laughed again.
'Where shall we build ours? It will have to be the States, you know.
Somewhere within reach of New York.'
'And soon,' she said casually. 'We'll have around eight months.'
He didn't leap to it at once. 'Eight months? Why eight m...' His voice
stopped. 'Joanne?'
'I can't be certain,' she said nervously, shyly.
'God!' he muttered under his breath, and for one stricken moment she
thought he was horrified, then she let out her breath with relief as he gave a
deep sigh. 'God, Joanne, I hope it is.'
They hadn't talked about it. Now they did. 'You want children?'
'A family,' he said. 'Ours.'
'Yes,' she said, because with their mutual childhoods they knew the value of
a family, of a home, of real, warm sharing. 'Ours.'
They lay cuddled up together, their bodies warm and silken after love, their
voices hushed, talking about the hope of a baby, then he said, 'Clea is going
to hate it.'
She shivered. 'I hope not.'
'My darling, face it, she will... being a grandmother would be bad enough,
but our child...'
He did not need to say more, she knew just what he meant. Clea was jealous
because Joanne had married Ben and he had once been one of the
worshippers at Clea's shrine. He had deserted Clea, in her eyes, he had left
when her beauty left, and she was bitter and resentful. Any child he gave
Joanne would be a visible sign of that love which Clea fought against
recognising, just as Joanne had once been a visible sign of Clea's age, hidden
whenever possible, and her real age concealed when she was allowed to
appear in public.
It was too complicated, too difficult. 'Let's go to America soon,' said Joanne.
'As soon as decently possible,' Ben promised.
They left a week later. Clea saw Joanne alone for a few moments and tried
to be brave, Joanne could see her being brave and it was pathetic, she could
almost hear Jeb warning her: be brave, my darling.
Her upper lip quivering, Clea smiled at her. 'I want you to be happy, darling.
I really do ... if he's the right man for you, I'm glad.' Her tone indicated deep
uncertainty. 'He isn't an easy man.'
Joanne kissed her. 'We'll be fine, Clea.' She did not mention the possibility
of a baby, although it was becoming more and more a probability as day
followed day.
Sufficient unto the day, she thought wryly. She rewarded Clea for her mask
of sweetness. 'You look stunning in that new dress, don't let Lester see you
in it he's still pining, poor soul.'
Clea laughed, eyes sparkling. 'Isn't he? Such a sweet man, Lester. He's never
married, you know.'
'Still hoping, I'm afraid, and all in vain.'
Clea loved to hear of men pining and hoping. She lit up like a Christmas tree.
'I'll miss you so when you're in the States.'
'You'll come and visit us.' But not too often, Joanne thought. No, Clea, not
too often, and Jeb and I will see to that. Like most families, they loved each
other best apart.
Ben had told Jeb about the hope of a baby. Jeb kissed her, taking her apart,
whispering, 'I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I can't wait to be a grandfather!'
'Don't tell Clea,' she warned.
He gave her a wry look. 'Do you think I'm a fool? Only when I have to,
believe me.'
Clea cried as she waved goodbye, and so did Milly, and of the two of them it
was Milly whose tears were most real, and it was Milly for whom Joanne's
answering tears fell. 'I'll miss her,' she said. 'More now than ever.' It would
have been wonderful to take Milly with her, to lean on her strength while she
waited for the baby, but she knew who needed Milly most and it was not her.
'I can cope, though,' she said aloud, and it was not just a calm remark, it was
a shout of triumph, because for the first time in her life it was true and joyful.
'Of course you can,' said Ben, smiling. 'Even with me, brute though I am at
times. Don't worry, I told Milly I would do all the cherishing needed.'
'Cotton wool?' she asked, tongue in cheek.
'I'll mummify you,' he teased, and they both laughed.
Joanne looked down from the plane and it was not just Clea and Milly she
said goodbye to, but a long, bitter illness from which she had at last
emerged. All her life she had been in Clea's shadow. She had resented,
feared, envied, loved, admired her, and for the past five years all those
emotions had churned inside her, making her sick, darkening the sky,
ruining her life. Now she had Ben and that meant she had everything. She
bore his child within her, she had his hand in her own. Down on the ground
Clea had lost so much and Joanne found she could pity and love her again.
She had regained her self-respect when she got Ben. She was no longer the
girl nobody wanted. She was Joanne Norris, Ben's wife, and the whole world
was her oyster.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]