City Woman Page 12

  Now, Caroline wondered what matter of great urgency Sarah was referring to in her message. She wondered if there was anything seriously wrong? Had she fallen, maybe, or cut herself? If she cut herself it wasn’t blood that would flow – it would be something more like Tabasco! But Caroline thought she’d better phone the old bat just to make sure everything was OK.

  ‘Yes? Hello?’

  Caroline winced at the bellow that came down the phone. Mrs Yates was a bit deaf and inclined to shout. ‘Hello, it’s Caroline. I got your message on the machine. Is anything wrong?’

  ‘Of course something’s wrong. I wouldn’t have said so if it wasn’t,’ Sarah snapped.

  ‘Can I do something for you?’ Caroline asked politely, holding the phone slightly away from her ear.

  ‘Where’s Richard?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know, I haven’t been able to get in touch with him today.’

  Mrs Yates gave a snort of derision. ‘That’s not surprising, since you were off carousing with your friends for the weekend. In my day, wives didn’t go off without their husbands. No wonder the world is in the state it is. When Richard comes in, oblige me by asking him to telephone me immediately.’ There was a peremptory click at the other end of the phone as her mother-in-law hung up, leaving Caroline half-amused and half-furious.

  ‘Old crab,’ she muttered, heading out to the kitchen to prepare the dinner.

  But where was Richard? It was most unlike him to take off without leaving a message or telling his secretary where he could be contacted. She toyed with the idea of ringing Charles. He might have some idea what was going on. But she decided against it. It might look as if she was checking up on Richard. Once she had got used to the idea that they were committed long-time partners, it no longer bothered her. In fact it was a huge relief to realize that it was not her, or what she considered her lack of sex-appeal, that had made Richard so loth to share her bed. She was as feminine and sexy as any other woman, although she had spent the years of her marriage doubting her appeal. Once she knew the truth behind her husband’s behaviour, it made a lot of things clear to her. No, she wouldn’t phone Charles, she decided, as she chopped the onions, trying to keep her mouth open so she wouldn’t cry. She’d let Richard tell her in his own good time where he’d been.

  About an hour later, she heard his key in the door. That was really good timing, she thought with satisfaction, lifting a big floury potato out of the pot.

  ‘Hi, Richard,’ she called out cheerfully. ‘I’m just dishing up.’ Her husband appeared at the kitchen door and she was shocked when she saw his ashen face.

  ‘God, Richard! What’s wrong?’ she exclaimed as the vague sense of unease at his uncharacteristic behaviour that had been with her since she came home, suddenly coalesced into a leaden knot of apprehension.

  Eleven

  ‘What’s wrong, Richard?’ Caroline repeated the question, her voice rising in concern.

  Richard’s eyes flooded with tears. ‘Charles has got cancer of the spleen. It’s terminal.’

  ‘Oh, Richard!’ Caroline rushed across the kitchen and put her arms around her husband. ‘How long does he have?’

  ‘They say a year at the most. I can’t believe it,’ he wept. ‘How will I manage without Charles?’ He drew away from her and rubbed his eyes like a child. ‘Did you hear what I said? There I go, thinking of myself again. How is he going to manage? How do you cope when you’re told you’ve less than a year to live? I’d crack up! Imagine counting the days on a calendar?’

  ‘That’s awful,’ Caroline murmured, her heart like lead. It was so hard to believe that the seemingly healthy man that she knew and cared for was being eaten alive by that most hideous of diseases. She had to fight to stop herself breaking down. Charles would be a great loss to her also. By right she should hate her husband’s lover, but she knew that Charles understood her and Richard better than they understood themselves. He could see why they were drawn to each other and, knowing that it would end in grief, he had tried hard to prevent Richard from marrying her. Charles had the most empathy of any man she knew, and he had been genuinely kind to her, in his avuncular way, ever since the dreadful night she had tried to commit suicide. He knew how fragile she still felt. He could understand her fluttery feelings of panic when she didn’t think she’d make it on her own without a drink or a Valium.

  If Charles would be such a great loss to her, Caroline just couldn’t imagine her husband’s feelings. He loved Charles with a great and abiding love. They had been together for most of Richard’s adult life. To him, Charles was a father figure, confidant and adviser, as well as being his lover. How would her husband face the world without his love and support?

  ‘What’s Charles going to do?’ Caroline asked gently.

  Richard sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure if he knows himself yet. He’s reviewing his options, although, God knows, there aren’t many,’ he added bitterly. ‘Oh Caroline, what will I do? I want to die myself.’

  ‘Well, that’s not an option,’ Caroline said firmly. ‘You’ll do what we all have to do. You’ll pick up the pieces, dust yourself off and get on with it – and be very thankful for the privilege of having had someone like Charles in your life for as long as you did.’

  Richard hadn’t expected this from his wife.

  ‘I mean it, Richard,’ Caroline declared. ‘If you’re going to give in to yourself and be melodramatic, you’ll be no help to Charles when he needs you most. Just think how remorseful you’ll be about your selfish behaviour when he’s gone, and that will keep you on the straight and narrow.’ She sat at the table opposite him. In the old days she would never have addressed her husband in such a fashion. She had held him in far too much awe. But these were not the old days; now they were equals and she felt no such constraints.

  ‘Look, Richard,’ Caroline said calmly. ‘The trouble with you is that ever since you were a child, you’ve been spoilt in the worst possible way by your mother. You were the focus of her existence and she raised you to think that the world revolved around you. Well, it doesn’t. It isn’t your fault that that’s the way you were brought up, but you’ve got to realize that right now it’s not your feelings that are important. You’ve got to put yourself in Charles’s shoes. You’ve got to be there as long as he needs you, and that’s going to be tough. And if you think for one minute that I’m going to let you give in to self-pity while he needs you, or even when it’s all over, then you can think again.’

  Richard’s face flushed, and for one frightening moment Caroline felt the old fear rise up, as during the time he used to beat her. In the old days, he would not have tolerated such straight talking. Maybe she had gone too far. Caroline stared at her husband as his hands clenched on the table in front of her and then, to her surprise and relief, he leaned across and took one of her hands in his.

  ‘Thanks, Caroline, I needed that kick in the arse. This time, I can’t think about myself; I’ve got to think of him. Please help me, Caroline. I don’t think I’m strong enough to get through this by myself. Promise you’ll help me,’ he said urgently.

  ‘I will, Richard, I will. I promise.’ Caroline hoped that she, too, wouldn’t go to pieces herself before the ordeal was over. She, who had never coped with any trauma in her life without resorting to some sort of crutch, was promising her husband that she would help him in his hour of greatest need. Charles had always assured her that if she dug deep enough she would find all the resources she’d ever need within herself. Well, maybe he was right. Maybe this time, drink- and drug-free, she would cope with a crisis all by herself for once in her life. She had lectured Richard about his self-pity; well, it was time she grew up as well and started taking responsibility for herself. Just like Devlin and just like Maggie. She would make herself ignore those fluttery feelings of panic that enveloped her. It was only self-indulgence giving in to them, lying there listening to her heart pound more and more loudly. The next time it happe
ned, she was going to say, ‘I don’t have time for this,’ and make herself do something to forget about it, no matter what time of the day or night it was. She was going to control the panic, rather than allowing it to control her.

  ‘We’ll get by, Richard.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Charles would be terribly disappointed if we didn’t.’

  ‘You’re right,’ her husband said stoutly, taking strength from her support.

  ‘Why don’t you have some dinner and go back over to him? Stay the night if you want; maybe he could do with the company.’

  ‘Don’t you mind being here on your own?’ Richard asked in amazement.

  Caroline gave a wry smile. ‘I think, Richard, it’s about time I started trying it out. I’m a big girl now. Besides, when Charles gets really ill, he’ll probably need you there, so I might as well start practising now.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ he said hesitantly.

  ‘I am. Now eat your dinner and off with you.’

  ‘I’m not really hungry.’

  She put the plate in front of him. ‘Well, just try a bit. I cooked steak and there are some lovely peas and broad beans and potatoes out of Dad’s garden.’

  ‘I had it all planned that some day you would find a nice straight man who could give you everything I couldn’t and I would go and live with Charles and we’d all be happy for the rest of our lives. Things don’t work to plan, do they?’

  ‘No, Richard, they don’t,’ Caroline sighed. To tell the truth she wasn’t feeling that hungry herself now after hearing his news. Richard toyed with his meal just to please her, but eventually he pushed away the barely touched food. They were having coffee when the phone rang.

  Caroline’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh heavens above, Richard, I forgot to tell you. Your mother left a message that she wanted you to phone her urgently. I rang her to see if anything was wrong, but she just wanted to speak to you.’

  Her husband raised his eyes to heaven and went to answer the phone. After a minute or so, Caroline heard him say brusquely, ‘Mother, I haven’t time for a lecture. I have to go out now, so tell me what’s the problem.’ There was a long pause and then she heard him say in exasperation, ‘Mother, I suggest you try and get on with your neighbours rather than start a whole sorry saga by bringing them to court. You never know, you might need them some time.’ From fifteen paces, Caroline could hear the shriek of outrage that followed this pronouncement, and she turned away to hide her amusement.

  ‘For God’s sake, Mother,’ Richard interrupted angrily, ‘I don’t have time for this kind of crap!’ Caroline’s eyes widened. Imagine Sarah at the other end of the phone, listening to her precious son using vulgar language and brushing aside her matter of great urgency. It’s about time for the worm to turn, Caroline thought with satisfaction. Good on you, Richard, she mentally applauded.

  ‘Look, Mother, if you want to bring them to court, do so. But I’m not getting involved, so go see another solicitor. Now, I’m going. I’m going to spend some time with Charles, who has just been told that he has less than a year to live. When you hear something like that, it puts petty little arguments with the neighbours into perspective, doesn’t it, now? I’ll call you tomorrow if I get time.’ Richard hung the phone up very decisively.

  ‘She probably won’t talk to me for months,’ he said ruefully. ‘She wants to start proceedings for trespass and nuisance against her new neighbours. They’re nice people, Caroline. I met them,’ he said in irritation. ‘The children are only toddlers.’

  ‘Why don’t you get her to put up a fence?’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ he reflected. ‘I know her garden is precious to her and the next time I see those people I’ll ask them to try and get the kids not to kick the ball in because it upsets her. But to start going on about going to court at this stage . . .’

  ‘Well, at least it wasn’t a medical emergency,’ Caroline said diplomatically.

  ‘Huh,’ snorted Richard. ‘My mother has the constitution of a horse, but I’ll tell you one thing – I pity any doctor who has to look after her.’ A note of self-doubt crept into his voice. ‘I suppose I should ring her back. Maybe I was a bit harsh with her.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave it until she’s cooled down a bit,’ Caroline advised. ‘Give her a call first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him.

  When he had gone, she cleared off the table, scraping the remains of their meal into the bin. What a waste of a lovely meal. Richard was right: things never did go to plan. Here she was, alone in the penthouse. Well, she’d better get used to it, because she couldn’t hang on to her husband’s apron strings for ever. Or he to hers. They were going to have to decide about their future.

  She got an attack of the collywobbles and her heart started to palpitate. Caroline swallowed hard. Right now the last thing she needed was a panic attack. There weren’t even any Valium in the house now. Why did it happen? Every time she thought about her future and being independent, this awful fluttering started inside, making her palms go sweaty and her head turn dizzy. Dr Cole, her GP, had explained it to her and she knew that she must keep her breathing calm and even. No-one had ever died of a panic attack, he had told her reassuringly.

  What use were all her fine words now? What was all that about taking control? What a spoofer you are, she thought unhappily, as she stood gripping the sink.

  A more positive thought pushed its way through: this is your big chance; try it. Breathe evenly the way you were taught. In, out, in, out. Keep it up. Slowly, her heartbeat settled down. Gradually the intensity of the panic diminished and eventually it ebbed away. It was still there, but it wasn’t in control. ‘I did it, I did it!’ she congratulated herself aloud. ‘Now I’m going to clean up the kitchen, and then I’m going to unpack my bags and do some washing. I’m going down to the pool for a swim and then I’m going to come back and have a bath and some hot chocolate and I’m going to read my Hello! in bed.’ She instructed herself in loud, firm tones, the sound of her voice oddly reassuring. ‘I just don’t have time for a panic attack.’

  Nothing answered her back. The panic attack had no voice to argue with her. ‘Just go away,’ she said, emboldened. She gave a shaky grin. ‘You’re a nutcase, Caroline Yates. Talking to yourself in the kitchen!’ But it had worked.

  Wasn’t that better than a drink or a Valium, she thought with relief as she put the dishes into the dishwasher and wiped down the counter tops. For the first time ever she had stood up to a panic attack. She had taken control. It was a great feeling that she had taken the first big step in her new life with courage. And that was the way it would be from now on. Her new life started from now.

  Twelve

  ‘Couldn’t you get a second opinion?’ Richard suggested, as he made coffee for Charles and himself that evening.

  ‘This is a second opinion, Richard. That’s why I went to London for the weekend,’ Charles said gently. ‘And I must accept it and deal with it, just as you’ll have to.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before now? Why did you keep it to yourself? How long have you kept this from me?’ Richard was nearly in tears as he ran his fingers through his well-cut tawny hair.

  ‘I’ve told you, Richard, I didn’t want to burden you,’ the older man said wearily. ‘With Caroline trying to commit suicide and then drying out and the way you and she were for a while, I thought you had enough on your hands. I didn’t want you to go to pieces. Caroline needed you.’

  ‘You needed me too, and as usual I wasn’t there for you. I’ve ruined Caroline’s life. I’ve been ashamed of us, terrified of any whiff of scandal. I’m pathetic. I don’t know how you put up with me.’

  ‘Oh, it’s a bit of a trial, I admit, particularly when you’re being theatrical like this. But I cope,’ Charles retorted.

  Richard caught his eye and laughed in spite o
f himself. ‘God, I’m sorry, Chas. Here I am being sorry for myself as usual – and you must be feeling like death.’ The colour drained from his face and he shook his head. ‘Oh Christ, what an insensitive remark. I’m sorry . . . I don’t know what to say.’

  Lighting up his pipe, Charles said, ‘It’s something we’ve all got to face. Some of us sooner rather than later. I don’t want you to start considering every word before you speak, for fear of saying something inappropriate. I’d hate that, Richard. Please promise me that we will continue to talk as freely as we’ve always done about what is in our minds and hearts. Our honesty has been one of the most enriching things in our relationship for me.’

  Richard came over to the sofa and put his arms around the other man. ‘I promise, Charles. It’s as important to me as it is to you. But I . . . I just don’t know how to handle the new situation.’

  ‘Neither do I, Richard. We’ll just have to learn as we go along. Don’t worry; we’ll muddle through. We have until now, haven’t we?’

  ‘Well, don’t go putting on a cheerful face just for me. Promise me that if you’re scared or in the dumps or in pain you’ll tell me,’ Richard requested earnestly.

  ‘I will.’

  Richard took a deep breath. ‘Could they be wrong about the time-span?’ he asked hesitantly.

  ‘Who knows,’ Charles said gruffly. ‘All I want is time to put my affairs in order.’

  ‘What are you going to do? Do you mean you’re thinking of finishing up work?’

  ‘I think I will, Richard. I had the idea of going over to Boston; my brother’s an oncologist there. Even though I love the law and I’ve worked hard at it, I feel I’ve given enough of my life to it now. I’ve made a hell of a lot of money in the past few years – would you mind if I left a whack of it to charity?’

  ‘Charles, please, just leave your money to whoever or whatever you like. Whatever makes you happy.’