again, and Saul Butler when he met them allowed a special measure of sarcastic comment into his, ‘Ah, together again, I see!’ ‘As you see,’ said Roz or Lil. ‘Can’t fool you, Saul, can we?’ said Lil, or Roz.
Then Hannah was pregnant and Ian was appropriately proud.
‘It has turned out all right,’ said Roz to Lil.
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Lil.
‘What more could we expect?’
They were on the beach, in their old chairs, moved to outside the new fence.
‘I didn’t expect anything,’ said Lil.
‘But?’
‘I didn’t expect to feel the way I do,’ said Lil. ‘I feel …’
‘All right,’ said Roz quickly. ‘Let it go. I know. But look at it this way, we’ve had …’
‘The best,’ said Lil. ‘Now all that time seems to me like a dream. I can’t believe it, such happiness, Roz,’ she whispered, turning her face and leaning forward a little, though there wasn’t a soul for fifty yards.
‘I know,’ said Roz. ‘Well – that’s it.’ And she leaned back, shutting her eyes. From below her dark glasses tears trickled.
Ian went off with his mother a good bit on trips to their shops. He was everywhere greeted with affectionate, respectful generosity. It was known how he had got his limp. As foolhardy as an Everest hero, as brave as – well, as a man outrunning a wave like a mountain – he was so handsome, so courteous, such a gentleman, so kind. He was like his mother.
On one such trip, they were in their hotel suite, before bedtime, and Lil was saying that she was going to take little Alice for the day when she got back to give Mary a chance to go shopping.
Ian said, ‘You two women are really pleased with yourselves.’
This was venomous, not like him; she had not – she thought – heard that voice from him before.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it’s all right for you.’
‘What do you mean, Ian, what are you saying?’
‘I’m not blaming you. I know it was Roz.’
‘What do you mean? It was both of us.’
‘Roz put the idea into your head. I know that. You’d never have thought of it. Too bad about Tom. Too bad about me.’
At this she began to laugh, a weak defensive laugh. She was thinking of the years with Tom, watching him change from a beautiful boy into a man, seeing the years claim him, knowing how it must end, must end, then should end, she should end it … she and Roz … but it was so hard, hard …
‘Ian, do you realise, you sound demented when you say things like that?’
‘Why? I don’t see it.’
‘What did you think? We’d all just go on, indefinitely, then you and Tom, two middle-aged men, bachelors, and Roz and me, old and then you two, old, without families, and Roz and I, old, old, old … we’re getting on for old now, can’t you see?’
‘No, you aren’t,’ said her son calmly. ‘Not at all. You and Roz knock the girls for six any time.’
Did he mean Hannah and Mary? If so … the streak here of sheer twisted lunacy frightened her and she got up. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘It was Roz put you up to it. I don’t forgive you for agreeing. And she needn’t think I’ll forgive her for spoiling everything. We were all so happy.’
‘Good night, I’ll see you at breakfast.’
Hannah had her baby, Shirley, and the two young women were much together. The two older women, and the husbands, waited to hear news of second pregnancies: surely the logical step. And then, to their surprise, Mary and Hannah announced that they thought of going into business together. At once it was suggested they should work in the sports shops: they would have flexible hours, could come and go, earn a bit of money … And, it was the corollary, fit second babies into a comfortable timetable.
They said no, they wanted to start a new business, the two of them.
‘I expect we can help you with the money,’ said Ian, and Hannah said, ‘No, thanks. Mary’s father can help us out. He’s loaded.’ When Hannah spoke, it was often Mary’s thought they were hearing. ‘We want to be independent,’ said Hannah, a trifle apologetic, herself hearing that she had sounded ungracious, to say the least.
The wives went off to visit their families for a weekend, taking the babies, to show them off.
The four, Lil and Roz, Ian and Tom, sat together at the table in Roz’s house – Roz’s former house – and the sound of the waves said that nothing had changed, nothing … except that the infant Alice’s paraphernalia was all over the place, in the way of modern family life.
‘It’s very odd, what they want,’ said Roz. ‘Do we understand why? What is it all about?’
‘We’re too – heavy for them,’ said Lil.
‘We. They,’ said Ian. ‘They. We.’
They all looked at him, to take in what he meant.
Then Roz burst out, ‘We’ve tried so hard. Lil and I, we’ve done our best.’
‘I know you have,’ said Tom. ‘We know that.’
‘But here we are,’ said Ian. ‘Here we are.’
And now he leaned forwards towards Roz, passionate, accusing – very far from the urbane and affable man everyone knew: ‘And nothing has changed, has it. Roz? Just tell me the truth, tell me, has it?’
Roz’s eyes, full of tears, did meet his, and then she got up to save herself with the ritual of supplying cold drinks from the fridge.
Lil said, looking calmly straight across at Tom, ‘It’s no good, Roz. Just don’t, don’t …’ For Roz was crying, silently, allowing it to be seen, her dark glasses lying on the table. Then she covered her eyes with the glasses, and directing those dark circles at Ian, she said, ‘I don’t understand what it is you want, Ian. Why do you go on and on? It’s all done. It’s finished.’
‘So, you don’t understand,’ said Ian.
‘Stop it,’ said Lil, beginning to cry too. ‘What’s the point of this? All we have to do is to decide what to tell them, they want our support.’
‘We will tell them that we will support them’ said Ian, and added, ‘I’m going for a swim.’
And the four ran down into the waves, Ian limping, but not too badly.
Interesting that in the discussion that afternoon, with the four, a certain key question had not been mentioned. If the two young wives were going to start a business, then the grandmothers would have to play a part.
A second discussion, with all six of them, was on this very point.
‘Working grandmothers,’ said Roz. ‘I quite fancy it, what about you, Lil?’
‘Working is the word,’ said Lil. ‘I’m not going to give up the shops. How will we fit in the babies?’
‘Easy,’ said Roz. ‘We’ll juggle it. I have long holidays at the university. You have Ian at your beck and call in the shops. There are weekends. And I daresay the girls’ll want to see their little angels from time to time.’
‘You’re not suggesting we’re going to neglect them?’ said Mary.
‘No, darling, no, not at all. Besides, both Lil and I had girls to help us with our little treasures, didn’t we, Lil?’
‘I suppose so. Not much, though.’