Playing With Fire Read online

  Susan had told him no such thing and stood silent, amazed at his ingenuity.

  ‘I sure did.’ With a pleased smile Edith plunged into her large handbag. Alison leant forward to adjust the collar of Graham’s pyjama coat, and while the two women were so occupied Susan took the opportunity to give Graham a warning look above Alison’s head. He just gave her a cheeky wink in return. Obviously he thought he had the upper hand.

  It was raining heavily when they left the hospital and they decided to take a taxi home. Whilst waiting for it to arrive, Susan was very aware of the speculative looks her aunt was giving her. She had been afraid that Alison might ask embarrassing questions, but was thankful her sister apparently had not picked up on Graham’s remarks. Of Edith she was not so sure, but to her relief nothing was mentioned.

  It dismayed her the attitude Graham was taking. He seemed determined to make her admit the truth. She wished with all her heart that she had not visited the hospital today. By her foolishness, she appeared to have set things in motion and who knew where they would end? It appeared that Graham was willing to throw discretion to the winds, and she couldn’t take a chance. It looked as if she would have to return to Darlington. If she didn’t, Graham would keep on trying to wear her down and a scandal would be unavoidable. It was her mother’s health that worried her most. She must break the news gently to her. Rachel was doing so well; was avidly looking forward to the birth of her grandchild. What if it set her back or caused another stroke? It didn’t bear thinking about! To have that on her conscience would be unbearable. But wouldn’t hearing that the baby was Graham’s be an even greater shock?

  Susan decided to have a word with her father, get him to explain to her mother that she must return to England with her aunt. He would be glad to be shot of her. If it meant her leaving the house, she could depend on him to win his wife round to their way of thinking. It was difficult to get him alone, but at last the opportunity presented itself. After dinner that night, declaring, to no one in particular, that he must examine the summer house and see what would be required to make it habitable for the summer months, he left the house and headed for the bottom of the garden. Waiting until the others were otherwise occupied, Susan saw her chance and, leaving the house via the French windows, stealthily made her way down to the summer house.

  Trevor had examined the roof of the structure; no sign of leaks. It appeared in good condition and, with a pleased smile, he turned his attention to the windows. If he was surprised that Susan came seeking him, he managed to conceal it admirably.

  He frowned in her direction and said, ‘I think we’ll get away with a lick of paint this year.’

  ‘That’s good news.’

  There was silence for some moments, as he continued his examination. At last, satisfied that he was right and only very minor repairs were required, he smiled wryly at her. ‘Come over here and sit down.’ When she had obeyed, he said, ‘I imagine you have a reason for following me out here?’

  ‘Yes, Dad. I’ve a favour to ask of you.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I would like to return to England with Aunt Edith, but I’m afraid of upsetting Mam. Will you break it gently to her?’

  To her amazement his face flooded with colour and appeared to swell with anger. He actually stuttered when at last he attempted to answer her. ‘Ho-w d-dare you! How dare you waltz over here and worm your way back into this house. Against my better judgement I allowed you to stay, and now you throw my goodness in my face. Why are you going back to England? I suppose it was that Edith who’s persuaded you to leave here?’

  Unable to hide her amazement, Susan cried, ‘Aunt Edith has nothing to do with my decision. She doesn’t even know I’m talking to you.’

  ‘Why then? Eh? Why are you going back with her?’

  Completely confused at his reaction, Susan said, ‘I thought you’d be glad to see me go.’

  ‘Oh, don’t think for one moment I wouldn’t be glad to see the back of you! It’s your mother I’m thinking of. This news could cause a relapse and she might not be so lucky next time.’

  ‘I know. That’s what’s worrying me,’ she said mournfully. ‘That’s why I want you to break the news to her.’

  ‘Well then, if you’re really worried, don’t go. Stay! Have the baby here. Give her something to look forward to. She hasn’t looked this happy since you left the house last year. Besides, the damage is done. Everybody now knows you’re about to give birth to a bastard, so why go now?’

  ‘Don’t, Dad, there’s no need to use that word. It sounds so awful.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Susan, but you know I believe in calling a spade a spade, and I’m only speaking the truth. What I’m trying to say is, there’s no reason for you to leave now that the cat is well and truly out of the bag.’

  ‘I’d love to stay, Dad. But it’s a bit complicated.’

  ‘I suppose the father has shown up and is threatening to make himself known. Eh, is that the situation?’

  Surprised at his intuition, she agreed, ‘Something like that.’

  Once again her father astonished her. Leaning across, he gripped her hand. ‘Susan . . . can you not marry this guy before the baby is born and give it his name? You’re not being fair to the child.’

  ‘I can’t! You don’t understand. The scandal would be terrible.’

  ‘Who the hell is he, then?’ He turned aside in disgust and growled, ‘A Taig, no doubt.’

  ‘No, actually you’re wrong. He’s a Protestant.’

  ‘What’s the problem, then? Will he not have you?’

  ‘He’s not free,’ she whispered.

  ‘Ah, I see. A married man. How could you, Susan? How could you be so bloody stupid?’

  Susan sat with head bowed, unable to defend herself. After a short pause, he continued, ‘Ah, Susan, Susan. It breaks my heart to see you in this situation. You’ve spoilt your whole life, so you have.’ To her great amazement he put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. ‘Well, we will just have to make the best of it. But you must stay here. Your mother’s welfare must come first. Okay?’

  ‘Okay. If you think I should.’

  ‘I think you should.’

  Edith spent the next two days at Enniskillen visiting her parents. Thus she was able to curb her curiosity during the remainder of her stay and it was the morning that she was returning to England when, on the pretext of borrowing a pen, she cornered her niece in her bedroom. Susan looked at her, surprised at her request; there were pens lying about all over the place. Reaching for one on her dresser, she turned to find Edith closing the bedroom door and standing with her back against it.

  ‘I want a few minutes alone with you, girl,’ she declared. ‘I’ve a question to ask you, and I want the truth, mind.’ She lowered her voice before continuing. ‘Is Graham the father of your child?’

  Sinking slowly down on to the bed, Susan whispered, ‘How on earth did you guess?’

  ‘I heard! That day at the hospital I heard enough to make me suspicious. And now you have just confirmed those suspicions. How on earth Alison didn’t twig that day, I’ll never know. She is very naive, unless of course she doesn’t want to face the truth. What on earth are you playing at, girl?’

  ‘You’ve got to believe me, Aunt Edith. I wasn’t carrying on with him! It’s like I told you. It just happened on the spur of the moment.’ She patted her stomach. ‘And this is the result.’

  ‘Does Graham know the truth, or . . .?’

  ‘No. He guesses. When me da suggested that maybe I’d run away to England because I was pregnant, he put two and two together and came over to see for himself. But I convinced him he was wrong. At least, I put doubts in his mind. If I’m lucky enough to go over my time, he might be convinced I met someone over there and got carried away. That’s why I didn’t want to come home. I wanted to be in a position to lie, if necessary, about the baby’s age. I don’t want to cause a scandal. Especially now, with Mam being the way she is.’

/>   ‘Would you not be better coming home with me then?’

  ‘It’s me mam. She’s so looking forward to the birth of her grandchild. It’s all she talks about. If I go she might have a relapse. And . . . believe it or not, me da wants me to stay.’

  Edith’s eyes stretched in surprise and she cried, ‘Wonders will never cease.’

  Susan grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I know. I was surprised, too.’

  ‘Is Graham in love with you?’

  ‘At the moment he thinks he is. He’s all mixed up.’

  ‘Surely he won’t marry Alison, in these circumstances?’

  ‘He tried to break off the engagement, but she won’t hear tell of it. To be truthful, she as good as admitted she doesn’t love him, but she is probably feeling noble and feels she must stick by him.’

  ‘Dear God, it’s a vicious circle, isn’t it?’

  ‘You can say that again.’

  ‘Well look, you know I’ll always be there for you. You can come over to Billy and me any time. No matter what the circumstances. Remember that!’

  They were in each other’s arms, their tears mingling. ‘Thanks, Aunt Edith. I don’t know how I’d have managed without you these past months. I don’t deserve your help.’

  Embarrassed at all this emotion, Edith gave her a gentle push. ‘Ah, get away with you. I must go and finish packing. Take care, love. And remember I’m there for you.’

  Chapter Nine

  Susan clasped her precious bundle close to her breast as she carried it up the two staircases to the attic rooms. Once she was certain she was staying at home for the birth, she had asked her parents’ permission to be allowed to decorate these two rooms for herself and the baby. She was pleased with the result. Her bedroom was painted in cool shades of grey and lemon with a suite, consisting of wardrobe, chest of drawers and long elegant headboard, of pale ash toning in nicely with matching bedding and curtains. The nursery was decorated in various shades of blue, ranging from powder blue to a ceiling so brilliant it lit up the whole room. Watercolours of nursery rhymes adorned the walls and an assortment of soft cuddly toys were scattered about on shelves. She paused on the threshold, drinking in all this beauty, and couldn’t believe how fortunate she was.

  Rays of May sunlight seeped through the slats of the venetian blinds on the wide dormer window, giving the nursery a misty fairytale aura. Her shoulders heaved as she sighed with contentment. Crossing the soft carpeted floor, she laid her son in the brand-new cot presented by his grandfather (much to Susan’s surprise). He was beautiful; the loveliest wee baby in the whole wide world. She laughed softly at the very idea. Didn’t all mothers think that? Still, right from the beginning, except for the slight blue bruises on his temple where the doctor had delivered him with the aid of forceps, his features had been perfect; pale and interesting, with great big, dark eyes. Not in the least bit red and wrinkled like other babies she had seen.

  Intently she examined these features now, but could see nothing of Graham - or herself for that matter - in him. Her mother was convinced he was the picture of Trevor and had hinted that he would be ever so pleased if the baby was named after him, but Susan shied away from this idea. Trevor was not one of her favourite names. Born a fortnight ago today, her son had been two weeks early, throwing all her conniving plans into disarray. She who had hoped to last until at least the middle of June had produced a baby two weeks premature. Her father had been sceptical, saying that the baby looked big enough to him and asking if there was any particular reason why she was claiming it was premature? Noticing her mother’s discomfiture, Susan had indignantly cried, ‘No, why should I? What reason would I have to claim he’s premature if he was full-term? Not that two weeks makes much difference.’

  ‘In some cases it can make a lot of difference. I’ve heard tell some women do that to pull the wool over their husband’s eyes. But then, you don’t have a husband to deceive.’ His shoulders were slumped as he left the room.

  Susan glanced at her mother in bewilderment and was amazed to see red spots of embarrassment in her cheeks. ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘Just a wee bee your father has in his bonnet.’

  Digesting these words, Susan suddenly reached a conclusion. ‘Was I premature?’

  Rachel sighed. ‘I suppose you may as well know. You’re old enough now not to agitate your father by mentioning it. Yes, you were a couple of months premature. ’

  Again Susan took her time answering, sifting through the muddled thoughts racing through her mind. ‘But . . . why would he be agitated?’ Her eyes widened as comprehension dawned. ‘Are you trying to tell me Dad thinks I’m not his daughter?’

  ‘Just sometimes . . . Silly things, like baby William coming early, for instance, trigger off these doubts.’

  Mesmerised, Susan gazed at her mother long and earnestly. It explained so many things. Why sometimes, out of the blue, her father suddenly seemed to dislike her without any justification. Why every now and again he was nasty to his wife.

  ‘Is he . . .’ She paused in confusion. This was delicate ground she was treading. She had no right to probe. Or did she?

  With a harsh laugh Rachel anticipated her question. ‘What do you think? It’s mainly because you don’t look like any of us. Never have! But that’s not unusual in a family. Most times he believes, but every now and again I don’t know what gets into him, but the doubts creep back. It can be very upsetting, I can tell you.’

  ‘I’ll bet it can. And you’ve had to put up with this torture all these years?’

  ‘Mm, what else could I do?’

  Going to her, Susan gave her a hug. ‘Ah, Mam. Poor Mam.’ It was only much later she realised her mother had neither confirmed nor denied whether Trevor was indeed her father.

  Now that the child was born, Susan had time to reflect on the past months. She was amazed at the extreme lengths to which she had gone to hide her pregnancy. Disrupting everyone by running over to Aunt Edith, instead of facing the music at home. But if she had stayed, wouldn’t Graham have guessed right from the beginning and let the cat out of the bag? Then all hell would have broken loose. Her father would most definitely have kicked her out on to the street for her betrayal of her sister, no matter what her mother said. Alison would have hated the very sight of her, and what about Graham? Would he have been so eager to claim responsibility at that time?

  No, she had done the right thing and the father’s name had remained her little secret. So long as it stayed that way, she didn’t care about anything else. This was a wonderful feeling of release. What did it matter what people thought of her? Sticks and stones and all that! To think she had been daft enough to worry about the likes of that! All that mattered to her now was the welfare of this beautiful wee baby. Her son! She would work her fingers to the bone for him. If anybody got too nosy, she would tell them to take a running jump. No one could take this wonderful gift away from her. The only blot on the landscape at the moment was that a father’s name would not appear on her son’s birth certificate.

  The doctor who had delivered him had been called Dr William McCartney and so, recalling her mother’s hints and to avoid any arguments, Susan had said the baby would be christened William after this young doctor, who had relieved her of pain and delivered her son safely into the world. William was also her grandfather’s name and so her mother wasn’t too disappointed. William Cummings. She turned her mind away from what his name should really be, and the inheritance she was denying her child. In the circumstances, that couldn’t be helped!

  A shadow fell across the cot and she glanced over her shoulder as her mother joined her.

  ‘Mam, I was so engrossed in William I didn’t hear you come up. You shouldn’t have climbed all those stairs,’ Susan chastised her.

  ‘I just wanted another little peek at him. I don’t know why you want to keep him away up here, anyway,’ Rachel said grumpily.

  ‘Ah, Mam, you’ve been nursing him for the last half-hour. You sti
ll have to be careful, you know, not to over-tire yourself,’ Susan reproached her. ‘And you know very well why I chose these rooms - it’s because I want him to disturb the household as little as possible. I’m very grateful that you and Dad are accepting him and I don’t want any regrets. Up here, if he’s restless at night you’ll hardly hear him.’

  Rachel hung over the cot admiring the pink chubby cheeks fanned by thick dark lashes. ‘He’s beautiful,’ she enthused. ‘Look at those eyelashes. And you know something, Susan, we don’t expect him to be quiet for ever. It wouldn’t be natural.’

  ‘I know, but remember, Dad and Alison still have to get up early for work, so they need a good night’s sleep. The less bother he is, the better for all concerned.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll see plenty of him. We’re still in the same house after all, not miles away, and he will be downstairs most of the day. You’ll soon be sick of him.’

  ‘No, never,’ Rachel vowed softly. For some seconds they stood in silence and paid the baby homage. Then Rachel whispered, ‘He doesn’t look in the least premature. Are you sure he is? Perhaps you got your dates wrong?’

  Susan shook her head sadly. ‘He’s premature all right. No mistake about it. I only wish he had hung on until sometime in June.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So that certain people wouldn’t get the wrong idea.’

  ‘Who? Who might get the wrong idea? Oh, Susan, why must you be so secretive?’

  ‘Because you wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘You’d be surprised. Try me. You know I can hold my tongue when required. I’ve had plenty of practice over the years. You’d be amazed at the things I can’t let pass my lips. I know a lot of secrets.’

  Susan laughed. ‘Well, this is one secret you won’t have to keep, because I’m not telling you anything.’

  ‘Ah, well, if that’s how you feel. While he’s sleeping, you take a wee rest. You’ll need to build up your strength. After all, he is only two weeks old, and I agree with you, there’s bound to be some sleepless nights ahead. So rest every chance you get. I’m so excited, Susan. I can’t believe he’s so beautiful. By the way . . . Graham said he would be over tonight to see him.’