The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [56]
Aunt Em smiles. ‘So did I. Odd, isn't it?’
‘Yes. And rather nice. Of course, Julia's family were wonderful to me. I can't tell you how I loved being with them. It's difficult to explain to Julia because it was natural for her but, though there were arguments and noise and all the hurly-burly of family life, there was none of those terrible undercurrents and tensions of my own life. It was so normal and utter heaven. And now she's rescued me again. They'll never know, any of them, what they've done for me. The trouble is, in some way it just adds to my own sense of inadequacy. One doesn't want to have to go through life being rescued.’
‘It wasn't your fault that Tom died,’ says Em. ‘That kind of tragedy can happen to anybody. At least you have his child.’
‘But can't you see that in some ways that makes it much worse? Oh, I want my baby, of course I do, but I feel that I've already set the pattern for her – or his – life and it won't be the one I always dreamed of: no father, no happy normal family. The headmistress where I taught showed me exactly how it's going to be for the future. I'm hardening myself to it a bit but you can see the reaction in people's faces, and it's not just the older ones. With some people it's simply embarrassment rather than disapproval. They can't just enthuse in the way they would if there were a father on the scene. It's like when Tom died. Nobody quite knows what to say to you so they avoid you if they can. It's very isolating.’
‘I'm so sorry,’ says Em gently. ‘You're quite right. I'm taking a very narrow view because I longed so much to have Archie's child. You get to the point when you think it would be worth anything to have a child: it becomes an obsession. All you see are pregnant women or mothers with small children and you'd sacrifice anything to be one of their number. I take your point. If there's anything we can do to help in any way you must ask.’
Tiggy smiles. ‘I might take you up on that. I spend hours wondering how I shall be able to earn a living for us both. Julia, bless her, says that she'll look after the baby while I'm working, but I'm not sure I could ask her to take on such a responsibility. Anyway, she probably only said it because the ghastly Angela was being nosy.’
Em's expression changes: her smile fades and she looks serious. ‘Angela? She's a bad girl,’ she says.
Tiggy stares at her in surprise. ‘How do you mean, bad? Julia said that she had a bit of a fling with Pete before they got together and she likes to rub it in.’
‘I don't trust her,’ says Em. ‘Angela's not the kind of woman who likes being dropped – well, nobody does, of course – and she's still trying to hurt Julia.’
‘I think Julia's afraid of her,’ says Tiggy anxiously, after a pause.
‘With good cause,’ says Em grimly.
The next day Tiggy drives herself to Tintagel, parks near the church and walks out across Glebe Cliff with the dogs. The castle has ceased to be the object of her interest; instead she is drawn to the cliffs and to the sea, though she looks back from time to time towards Tintagel Island and the dark entrance to Merlin's Cave. On this hot May day the water is clear green and dark purple, colours that remind her of a jockey's silks. Making her cautious way out between the bright-flowered gorse bushes to a little patch of smooth granite at the edge of the cliff, she finds she can look down, far down, to where the waves cream against the sheer rock face. Mesmerized, she stares downwards, inexplicably drawn to the clear aquamarine depths, feeling a little dizzy, almost light-headed: how welcoming the sea looks, how calm. It would be so simple to take that one last step into its infinite