The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [108]
In that moment she is struck by a different kind of exaltation. By saying the words she's made them true: Zack is their baby, hers and Pete's. She is filled with relief yet, almost immediately, she is seized with misgiving. Cat is watching her slyly. She's taken Zack's teething ring away from him, holding it just out of his reach, and she's put one foot on the handlebars of Charlie's bike so that he can no longer push it forward. Zack grizzles; reaching for the teething ring that jiggles so tantalizingly just beyond his grasp; whilst Charlie, shouting frustratedly strives to pit his weight against Cat's restraining foot. Her look dares Julia to comment on the power she has over the two smaller children and Julia has an instinctive feeling that the battle is not yet over, but that the lines are drawn up against a different protagonist.
‘It's a pity Cat doesn't have any brothers and sisters,’ she says sharply. ‘Perhaps they'd teach her to grow up a bit and be less tiresome.’ She takes the teething ring from Cat and puts it back on the high chair's table, lifts her sharply to one side and gives Charlie an encouraging push. ‘She must be so popular at school.’
As soon as she's made the sarcastic remark she regrets it. It's cheap, trying to score points over a child: foolish to feel frightened of her, but her irrational fear remains.
‘Do you want some juice, Cat?’ she asks, trying to overcome it. ‘Or milk?’
Cat shakes her head, refusing to answer, reaching up to the little Merlin, who stands on the lowest shelf of the dresser. Julia swiftly puts it out of reach on to a higher shelf and Cat begins to whine. Charlie watches her curiously.
‘What is that thing?’ asks Angela, irritated. ‘There was a fuss over it once before, if I remember. Why can't she play with it? Is it valuable?’
‘Not particularly,’ Julia answers, making the tea. ‘Well, it has a sentimental value. It's pretty heavy and if she drops it on her toes, or on Charlie's, it could be very painful, that's all.’ She puts the mugs on the table and sits down. ‘So tell me about the new tenants.’
Later, after they've gone, she takes Zack out of the high chair and cuddles him, her cheek pressed against his silky head. As she holds him she thinks about Tiggy: the schoolgirl, lonely and uncared for, longing for a family to which she might belong. How she hated the big London flat, empty of any love, inhabited by the series of au pairs who were harassed by her father. Julia holds Zack more tightly: he must never, never know the ugly truth about his grandfather's behaviour. She remembers that first frantic telephone call; Tiggy's flight to Hampshire, and the story she told about her father. It was difficult to comprehend such a betrayal. The weight of so terrible a secret was such a heavy one that, in the end, she told her mother Tiggy's tragic little history, swearing her to secrecy. Her mother became quite rigid with horror.
‘Poor child,’ she said. ‘Poor little Tiggy. Don't forget, Julia, that she's welcome here at any time during the holidays. Keep an eye on her, darling, won't you?’
And she did keep an eye, watching over Tiggy, taking her home for holidays when she wasn't with her grandmother. Even after Tiggy's father moved to Paris, and severed all except financial connections, she remained watchful. By the time they left school their friendship was firmly fixed and, when Julia married Pete, Tiggy was a bridesmaid and, later, Charlie's godmother. Then there was that second phone call, and another flight, this time to the west.
‘I don't want my father to know about my baby’ she said. ‘Not ever. Promise me, Julia, that you'll never say a word to anyone.’
Poor Tiggy; despite all her fears for the future, she never imagined for a moment how it would be for her or her baby.
Julia kisses Zack, smooths his downy hair: Zack beams gummily and waves his fists. Smiling back at him she suddenly has the conviction that she is capable at last