Patricia and your father are attempting to cope with it too, you see, and so they are unable to help you as much as you feel they should. It’s hard, very hard, Selina, but you must be as brave as you can. I’m always here if you need me.’
Oh, she’d been trying to help. Selina shrugged, remembering, but she hadn’t wanted Daphne’s help. Daphne was kind enough and Mummy’s best friend too, but it was Daddy that she’d needed then. He’d been shocked and desolate, true enough, but not for long. Barely nine months later Maudie had been with him when he’d arrived at Granny’s one afternoon. Granny had been polite but cool, Daddy had been doing that bluff, hearty sort of act, which was an attempt to cover his embarrassment, and Patricia had been avidly curious about Maudie.
‘You have to admit,’ she’d said afterwards, ‘that she’s rather attractive. Quite sexy in a kind of casually indifferent sort of way. Lovely long legs.’
Selina could recall that she’d stared at her, baffled, frightened. ‘What do you mean?’
Patricia had rolled her eyes. ‘Grow up, can’t you? He’s going to marry her. He’s in love with her. You could see it a mile off.’
Now, Selina balled her hands into fists. How well that expression suited Patrick and Mary. ‘He’s in love with her. You could see it a mile off.’ Her father’s expression when he had looked at Maudie, the lingering hand clasp and the reluctant parting of flesh had been repeated that night of the party; oh, the signs were clear enough. Clear and appallingly familiarFamiliar as the upsurge of rage; the obsessive need to cling and hold; the crushing humiliation of a man’s disloyalty.
‘He doesn’t love you less, Selina,’ Daphne had insisted. ‘Love is not a finite commodity. You did not love your father less because you loved your mother or Patricia. Your father doesn’t love you less because he loves Maudie. Be generous, my dear.’
It was a concept which had remained foreign to her. Even with her own children she’d needed to be first. Patrick was their father, the provider and protector, but it was to her they brought their triumphs and disasters.
She
must be first in their affections. The boys had always complied quite readily—but Posy’s disloyalty had enraged her. Her boys had always responded quickly when she pointed out how hurtful it was when their girlfriends attempted to displace her but Posy had remained unmoved. Even Selina’s own friends couldn’t understand why she’d felt so betrayed; couldn’t see how destructive it was to one’s self-esteem to discover that someone else was preferred; or how humiliating to imagine the victor’s private triumph. And that it should be Maudie of all people had been an especially bitter pill.
Yet even the enormity of Posy’s defection paled beside Patrick’s. Mary’s image rose in Selina’s mind and she felt a suffocating, impotent fury. How the wretched woman must be laughing, enjoying the knowledge that it was
she
whom Patrick had chosen, that for her he had rejected and betrayed his wife. Selina willed down her rage, subduing it, knowing that it must not be allowed to cloud her judgement, aware that subtlety was more effective than cheap gibes or a show of contempt. Her wars against her father and against Posy had not succeeded but this time she would win. As yet nothing had been said. Patrick had gained control of his emotions and was playing it very calmly and carefully. He’d even mentioned a weekend away in Oxford, something to do with school, he’d said. Later he’d talked about it in detail, describing some seminar and lectures, but she was not deceived. He hadn’t looked at her, and his guilt was almost tangible, but she hadn’t dared speak. She’d hardly been able to contain herself at the thought of them together. Hot, spiteful, beastly words had filled her mouth, acid as bile, and hatred for Mary had been so strong that she’d felt almost frightened.
‘I
Oh, she’d been trying to help. Selina shrugged, remembering, but she hadn’t wanted Daphne’s help. Daphne was kind enough and Mummy’s best friend too, but it was Daddy that she’d needed then. He’d been shocked and desolate, true enough, but not for long. Barely nine months later Maudie had been with him when he’d arrived at Granny’s one afternoon. Granny had been polite but cool, Daddy had been doing that bluff, hearty sort of act, which was an attempt to cover his embarrassment, and Patricia had been avidly curious about Maudie.
‘You have to admit,’ she’d said afterwards, ‘that she’s rather attractive. Quite sexy in a kind of casually indifferent sort of way. Lovely long legs.’
Selina could recall that she’d stared at her, baffled, frightened. ‘What do you mean?’
Patricia had rolled her eyes. ‘Grow up, can’t you? He’s going to marry her. He’s in love with her. You could see it a mile off.’
Now, Selina balled her hands into fists. How well that expression suited Patrick and Mary. ‘He’s in love with her. You could see it a mile off.’ Her father’s expression when he had looked at Maudie, the lingering hand clasp and the reluctant parting of flesh had been repeated that night of the party; oh, the signs were clear enough. Clear and appallingly familiarFamiliar as the upsurge of rage; the obsessive need to cling and hold; the crushing humiliation of a man’s disloyalty.
‘He doesn’t love you less, Selina,’ Daphne had insisted. ‘Love is not a finite commodity. You did not love your father less because you loved your mother or Patricia. Your father doesn’t love you less because he loves Maudie. Be generous, my dear.’
It was a concept which had remained foreign to her. Even with her own children she’d needed to be first. Patrick was their father, the provider and protector, but it was to her they brought their triumphs and disasters.
She
must be first in their affections. The boys had always complied quite readily—but Posy’s disloyalty had enraged her. Her boys had always responded quickly when she pointed out how hurtful it was when their girlfriends attempted to displace her but Posy had remained unmoved. Even Selina’s own friends couldn’t understand why she’d felt so betrayed; couldn’t see how destructive it was to one’s self-esteem to discover that someone else was preferred; or how humiliating to imagine the victor’s private triumph. And that it should be Maudie of all people had been an especially bitter pill.
Yet even the enormity of Posy’s defection paled beside Patrick’s. Mary’s image rose in Selina’s mind and she felt a suffocating, impotent fury. How the wretched woman must be laughing, enjoying the knowledge that it was
she
whom Patrick had chosen, that for her he had rejected and betrayed his wife. Selina willed down her rage, subduing it, knowing that it must not be allowed to cloud her judgement, aware that subtlety was more effective than cheap gibes or a show of contempt. Her wars against her father and against Posy had not succeeded but this time she would win. As yet nothing had been said. Patrick had gained control of his emotions and was playing it very calmly and carefully. He’d even mentioned a weekend away in Oxford, something to do with school, he’d said. Later he’d talked about it in detail, describing some seminar and lectures, but she was not deceived. He hadn’t looked at her, and his guilt was almost tangible, but she hadn’t dared speak. She’d hardly been able to contain herself at the thought of them together. Hot, spiteful, beastly words had filled her mouth, acid as bile, and hatred for Mary had been so strong that she’d felt almost frightened.
‘I
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