‘I see,’ he said. His voice was a deep groan. He drained his glass. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll see him for a while then.’ Audrey blinked away a tear. She was now unable to speak. In order to avoid having to talk any more she walked away from him to the far corner of the garden where she stood pretending to deadhead where there were no flowers, just ferns and evergreens. Cecil got up and retreated inside the house. She was relieved he had left her alone.
It was no coincidence; through his drunken haze Cecil knew he had an enormous amount to be thankful for.
Aunt Edna was the first to arrive at the house when news of Louis’ sudden departure spread once again around the community. It was late in the evening and Audrey was preparing for an early night. Her aunt’s sudden appearance surprised her as much as it surprised Cecil. ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’ he asked, his red face breaking into a loose smile.
‘Where’s Audrey?’ she asked hoarsely, deducing from Cecil’s drunken state that she must have left with Louis as she had threatened. She clutched her neck with hot fingers and sat down.
‘Upstairs preparing for bed. She’s tired and missing the twins,’ he stated flatly.
‘Ah,’ she breathed deeply with relief. ‘I’ll go up and see her then.’
‘As you wish. You won’t find her very communicative tonight, I’m afraid. She’s quite done in.’ Aunt Edna noticed the anger in his voice and wondered how much he knew.
She found Audrey in her room, sitting on the window seat, staring blankly out into the garden. She rushed over and drew her trembling niece into her embrace. ‘Dear child,’ she said softly, pressing her close. ‘I know how much it hurts, but you’ve done the right thing. You’re very, very brave. No one but I knows how brave and courageous you have been.’ Audrey buried her face in her aunt’s bosom and sobbed. ‘It will hurt for a while but in time the pain will subside and you will feel little more than a dull ache. My heart still aches for Harry. But I no longer suffer pain.’
‘What is the point of living without love?’ she asked in a whisper. ‘What is the point of it all?’
‘You have your children to love.’
‘But they’re not here.’ Her voice was barely audible.
‘You’ll go and see them.’
‘What? A few weeks here and a few weeks there? Who will they run to when they’re unhappy? Who will they talk to about their fears and their worries? Someone will replace me in their lives. What’s the point of having children if you’re not going to nurture them?’
‘Audrey, this is silly talk. You have to pull yourself together.’ Aunt Edna gripped her by the upper arms and held her face with a determined stare.
‘I can’t.’ Audrey looked into her aunt’s compassionate old eyes. ‘I just can’t.’
‘I know you still care about Cecil. Even if you don’t realize it. My dear, he loves you so much. Just look at him. Look what you’ve done to him. He’s drinking too much. He’s losing his confidence. He was such a dashing young man. He needs you. Can’t you see?’
‘He’s driven me away.’
‘You have to make a go of it. You’ve got each other for life.’ Audrey groaned and lowered her head. ‘Don’t forget that old cliché, “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” I would rather have had eight years of loving Harry than a lifetime of no one special. You’ve lived something unique and loved to your full capacity. We can’t always have it all. Be thankful for your children, some women are unable to conceive, others lose their children like your mother lost Isla. Don’t focus on what you have lost, remember what you have and hold onto it.’ Her face softened into a sympathetic smile. ‘You can either be miserable or make the best of what you have been dealt. It is your choice. You did the right thing today, and in time you will appreciate that. Tomorrow you must set out to repair your marriage and put Louis behind you.’
But Audrey’s emotions were too raw to contemplate her marriage and it was too early to put Louis behind her. When her aunt had gone she hid beneath the sheets and slept.
It was dark when Cecil entered his dressing room. He switched on the light and closed the door softly behind him so as not to awaken his wife who was asleep next door. He walked over to the dresser. Catching his reflection in the large oval mirror he rubbed his chin in dismay. He looked old and shabby. His eyes sagged and the whites were dull and yellowed. His skin was ruddy and coarse in texture and his mouth twisted in a permanent grimace. He clearly looked unwell. He sighed and picked up the leather-bound bible he had recently come to rely on. Then he opened one of the drawers at the base of the mirror and pulled out a small key. He was meticulously tidy and everything had its place. Finally he lifted the little brown walnut box where he kept things of great importance and walked over to the armchair where he sat down. He opened the bible where it was marked with a gold ribbon and began to read. He read until the early hours of the morning and with each verse his spirits were uplifted and reinforced. But it was one verse in particular that caused him to rub his chin ponderously, sigh heavily and reflect on the last decade of his life with objectivity. That verse above all others spoke to him and stayed with him so that it became a mantra that he repeated quietly to himself over and over again. When dawn lit up the sky and the song of birds danced on the air, signalling the beginning of another day, he turned the key in the little walnut box and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and his eyes scanned what was written there. Louis’ ink had faded a little over the years but his words had lost none of their potency. Taking a pen Cecil copied that verse from the bible, writing it at the bottom of the page. He studied the note a moment before folding it and placing it once again in the walnut box. He locked it then put the key back where it belonged.