The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [87]
‘Perhaps he didn't think it was important,’ Julia suggests, controlling an urge to smack that smug face. ‘I'm sorry to hurry you but I'm going to have lunch with a friend and I ought to get a move on.’
Later she writes angrily to Pete:
So why didn't you tell me that you're going to stay with them? You know how she likes to wrong-foot me and you always manage to give her the ammunition. And why did you tell them that leave was like a five-ring circus? You're so disloyal sometimes …
As soon as she's written this, part of her is tempted to tear the letter up but Angela's words rankle and her heart is still sore. Quickly she puts it in its envelope and seals it, and when she goes to collect the twins from school she posts it, though part of her still regrets writing it.
All through the evening, exhausted by the bedtime routine, she struggles with the familiar demons of guilt, jealousy and despair that Angela's visit have disturbed. Zack begins to cry and she brings him downstairs lest he should waken the others. She switches off Starsky & Hutch and settles Zack in the corner of the sofa whilst she puts more logs on the fire. Sitting at the other end of the sofa, turned towards him, she studies his face as he gazes about him; quite quiet now, he stares at the flickering flames. Watching him, Julia feels a strong desire to weep; she wonders if Tiggy might be hovering in the shadows, just out of sight, and she remembers how they sat here together, talking about the future. All those plans Tiggy made; all her fears for her baby; yet neither of them foresaw the reality. Julia thinks about her own child, wondering whether it would have been a boy or a girl, and desperately swallows down tears of anguish. She simply mustn't give way: she has the suspicion that if she were to start crying, really crying, she might never stop.
The Turk stirs and jumps up on to the sofa, curling herself down into a ball beside Zack. Julia puts out a hand and strokes the rough coat. She feels unbearably lonely: she misses Pete terribly and now wishes with all her heart that she hadn't sent him such an unloving letter. Misery swells in her breast so that she can barely breathe. Bella comes to sit against her legs, head on her knee, and Julia passes her hand over and over the heavy head and thick soft ears. Gradually the rhythmic smoothing action soothes her and she stands up.
‘I'm going to make a sandwich,’ she tells Zack. ‘I shan't be a sec, so don't cry, there's a good fellow.’
By the time she returns he is peacefully asleep and she sits quietly beside the fire, eating her sandwich. Presently she picks him up gently and carries him upstairs to his cot.
When Pete's letter arrives it carries news so important that his reply to Julia's caustic observations is relegated to second place:
The captain's recommending me for Perisher. He told me this morning. You can imagine how relieved I am. I was beginning to think I'd never make it. He's given me a pretty good report and he says he's confident I'll get through unless I do something really stupid. It's fantastic news … As for staying with Martin and Angela, it just slipped my mind. Honestly, darling, I do wish you wouldn't get so uptight about Angela. You should tell her to wind her neck in when she upsets you. I know Trescairn is a bit off the beaten track but you need to make some new friends. I worry about you being so far from all your old chums around Tavistock but, more good news, David and Pam are buying a cottage in St Cleer. Not too far away, and I know how well you get on with Pam and the kids love young Will …
Julia feels light with relief. It is terrific news that Pete should be recommended for the Commanding Officers Qualifying Course, known by submariners as Perisher; even more wonderful that, if he were to pass it, he will be given command of a submarine. His negligent reaction to her angry remarks brings her an equal amount