Skiddlethorpe and other stories Page 2
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Tom and Diana had known each other from childhood, and in their mid-teens had become quite close friends. Without being unsociable they gradually came to spend more time together, apart from the rest of their circle. They generally ignored knowing looks from the others, and if they were aware of speculation among their relations about an eventual marriage they did nothing either to encourage or squash it. Most of the time they didn’t even think about the possibility. However, this was in the early1950s and in due course Tom had to do his National Service, which apart from brief spells of leave during training kept him well away from home for two years.
Diana was not one to go into purdah and even if he had thought their relationship anything like close enough to justify it, he knew better than to suggest restricting her social life. They wrote to each other often at first, but the frequency gradually tailed off, and so he was disappointed rather than heartbroken to learn halfway through his time that she was pregnant. There was no question about the father. Tom had met him a few times and formed a good impression; George was a decent, conscientious man in his mid-twenties, who took his responsibilities seriously. Tom was not able to attend their wedding, but sent the best gift he could manage and genuinely wished them well.
He wished in vain. Julie proved to be a delicate and fractious child, impatient with the illnesses that needed much more than usual attention and greatly restricted family activities. Then George had an accident at work that left him brain-damaged and house-bound, with disastrous effects on his character. The following years were very hard for Diana, with George increasingly bitter and querulous over his disabilities, imagined slights from his diminishing circle of friends and her inadequate (in his eyes) attention to him. She felt that he might have some justification there, but could do little about it, with more than enough on her hands dealing with the child while earning enough to keep the family out of even greater difficulties.
Tom meanwhile had completed an engineering course with reasonable credit and found a good, steady if not particularly lucrative job. He discreetly did as much as he could to help, although he had to be very careful since George had become excessively jealous of other male contacts and gave more and more venomous expression to his suspicions. Often Tom could do little more than dry Diana’s tears over the latest outburst, and on finding out about it through a well-meaning neighbour’s thoughtless chatter, George angrily forbade even that. She didn’t always obey, but the deceptions involved troubled her conscience and made her rather irritable.
They were not entirely successful, either, and George grew more disagreeable than ever. After an especially vehement row, she finally snapped and stormed out with Julie to take refuge with her mother. Mavis was sympathetic and agreed that the child could stay with her at least for the night, but insisted that Diana should return home straight away before more lasting damage was done. There, she found the place silent, the bathroom door locked, and when it was forced, George dead inside.
The suicide eased Diana’s practical burden, but left her guilt-ridden by the idea that she had precipitated it, and moreover that the vicious accusations in George’s final despairing note might have had some substance in her mind if not in reality. Tom tried to reassure her that unless encouraged, such stray thoughts - if indeed she had any - were almost inevitable and blameless, but she couldn’t convince herself that they would have been altogether unwelcome. In any case, there was no getting away from a likely connection between the row and what followed, and she could always imagine that with greater patience she might have stuck out the situation long enough for it to pass. She was grateful for Tom’s attempts to cheer her up, but although reluctant to tell him so felt that they didn’t really help, in fact making her question her own innocence even more. He realised that something beyond his understanding was amiss, but lacked the insight to identify it.
However, he was a patient man and waited nearly two years before gently reminding Diana that she didn’t need to remain a widow indefinitely. Apart from any other consideration, Julie needed a father, someone to play with her, take her to concerts and exhibitions and the like. “But you do that already,” she pointed out.
“Well, yes, it’s all right now, but when she’s a bit older ...”
“What?”
“Well, it could get a bit awkward.”
“I think that’s a bridge we can cross when we come to it.”
He was in some ways older than his generation, too reserved to mention other reasons for wanting to marry, and the occasion passed. He never found the nerve to raise the subject again, but feeling himself somehow bound was reluctant to consider looking elsewhere. Half-hearted attempts by his friends to introduce other potential partners came to nothing, and so he became accepted as a confirmed bachelor.
The passing years made Julie no easier to manage, and indeed she came to object as a matter of course to everything that had to be done for her or by her. She had a particular dislike of visiting the dentist in town - nothing unusual about that, of course, except in its intensity - and made a tremendous fuss when a few fillings were needed. Diana had practically to drag her across the road, and Julie resisted strongly. Diana, scolding that Julie was no longer a baby and needed to act her age, yanked her arm fiercely; Julie pulled free, so that Diana lost her balance and staggered backwards from behind the bus into the path of a car. The driver swerved but had no chance to avoid her completely; she fell, struck her head on a kerbstone, and despite all efforts to revive her never regained consciousness.
Tom considered the possibility of adopting Julie, but a bachelor household would not have been good for her even if it were permitted. She was placed with foster-parents, who were conscientious and kindly in their way though a little on the severe side. Perhaps that was what Julie needed. Tom visited with little gifts, not that they were very graciously received, and took her out for excursions when the opportunity offered.
One that she did appreciate was to a wild-life park, and she didn’t seem to tire of it on repeated visits. She was particularly fascinated by a pair of tigers, and thrilled when one of the attendants told her that cubs were on the way. She had to go every week to ask about the mother’s condition, and after the birth about the cubs’ progress, until they were eventually allowed out on display and she could see for herself. On these occasions she was almost friendly, and Tom began to feel that they getting into a more comfortable situation.
However, the Graingers knew of placings for reasons much less innocent than being orphaned, and looked on Tom with some suspicion. Once Julie reached her teens they made it clear that they thought his attentions no longer appropriate. Although bitterly disappointed he understood the good intention behind the ban, and there was no objection to his writing occasionally to her although he suspected some surreptitious censorship. The letters were never answered, or at least no reply ever reached him, and eventually he had to accept that he would probably hear no more from her.