The Way We Were_ A Novel - Marcia Willett [94]
Julia weeps again and Em swallows back her own tears. ‘I didn't know,’ she says sorrowfully. ‘I had no idea you were pregnant.’
‘Nobody knew. Only me and Tiggy and Pete. I was waiting to be absolutely certain. Pete tries to be kind about it but he doesn't truly understand. He thinks that because I was only three months’ pregnant it's not so bad. But it was my baby.’
The last word is ragged, painfully screamed out as if Julia is torn inside with grief, and Em sits quite still, mechanically stroking Julia's hair.
Julia raises her head. ‘The other thing is that I really miss Tiggy. I can't believe she's dead. In those last few months we were like sisters. I can't believe I'll never see her again. I really loved her. It's what gets me through the bad days when I resent Zack because he's not mine. I love him. I do love him because he was Tiggy's. But sometimes it's hard and I feel so guilty.’ She scrubs at her face again. ‘And that's why I don't know about Pete. I wonder if I am mad, like he said, or whether he's bluffing me. God, I hate Angela.’
‘I can sympathize with that,’ says Em, ‘but you're playing her game, you see. You must stop.’
Julia stares at her, puzzled, momentarily distracted from her grief. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Fear is disabling, and Angela is controlling the game because you allow her to frighten you. First she sows the seeds of fear in your mind and then stands back to allow your distorted perception of the danger to enable them to grow. You become wary, get jealous and make accusations: Pete is hurt, grows resentful and feels misjudged. She wants to undermine the firm ground of your relationship so she keeps the topsoil fertile by scattering little juicy hints here and there and then showers allusions over it so that your terrors flower and blossom correspondingly. Instead of seeing them as a crop of rank weeds, you encourage them with a nice mixture of doubt and fear so that their roots spread, grow strong and invade your secure territory. Angela and Pete don't need to have an affair, Julia. Your marriage can be destroyed perfectly well without that, and Angela knows it.’
By now Julia is wide-eyed, longing to be convinced.
‘You sound so sure,’ she says wistfully.
‘Oh, I am,’ says Em. ‘I don't believe for a minute that Pete feels anything for Angela except guilt. He dropped her for you and somehow she's made him feel just a bit of a heel about it. Enough to keep him twitching a bit. She's clever, is Angela. She's the sort of woman who can't let any man go but likes to demonstrate her power by an ongoing flirtation. Men never seem to have the courage to resist this, probably due to some misguided idea of chivalry or maybe it's just vanity, but whatever it is their wives and girlfriends resent it. They should tell these women to sling their hooks.’
Julia manages a smile. ‘First you were being horticultural and now you're being nautical, Aunt Em,’ she says.
Em grimaces. Archie had one or two Angelas hanging around,’ she says feelingly. ‘Don't go along with it, Julia. Don't allow Angela to manipulate you.’
Julia sits hunched, elbows on knees, chin in hands. ‘It's easier said than done.’
‘Of course it is, but you can try. At least they aren't living nearby any longer.’
‘Well, that's why I was so furious. I really thought she was out of my hair at last.’
‘Who told you that Pete spent the night with Angela in Faslane while Martin was at sea?’ asks Em curiously.
‘A mutual friend who lives in Smuggler's Way. Well, she's not really a friend, more an acquaintance. She said that she saw the taxi outside Angela's house yesterday morning and Pete leaving. She made a joke of it, of course, but she thought I ought to know.’
‘Ah. We all need friends like that.’
‘Well, I would want to know,’ says Julia defensively. ‘If Pete was being unfaithful, I mean. Imagine the humiliation of discovering that everyone knows but you.’
‘You said