Weeping on Wednesday

my own.”

She listened to his flat voice for a minute or so, and then cut in, “Oh, I’m fed up with this. You do it your way, and I’ll go mine. There’s not much point in my telling you things if you don’t act on them, is there?” He was still talking as she cut him off.

? Weeping on Wednesday ?

Thirty-Eight

It was dark now, and Enid dozed in the front seat of the car. Her father had been deeply asleep for a couple of hours, and she was glad. The longer he was absent from this nightmare the better. She watched Edward’s profile from time to time, and was not reassured to see him calm and relaxed. She could feel the tension in him, and had decided in the long hours of travelling northwards that he must be handled with great care. It was his unpredictability she feared, as always. Perhaps there was something in his swings of mood that could have been put right, but she considered he was, and always had been, spoilt, selfish and naturally wayward. He’d got away with all kinds of minor misdemeanours as a child, and gradually, as he grew up, the seriousness of these had increased. But, unfortunately, his confidence in his own invulnerability had also increased.

It was really Mother’s fault, Enid reflected sadly. Father had tried to discipline him, but each time Mother had stepped in with excuses, pleas for leniency, promises that she would correct him in her own way. He was an attractive child, a handsome teenager and a charming adult – when it suited him. All his life he was bolstered through numerous sticky patches by the knowledge that his mother would defend and protect him. She had lied for him, given him false alibis, and persuaded Enid to do the same. Her childhood, teenage years and adulthood, had been very different. Edward had always been given first place. “He is the boy,” she’d heard her mother say repeatedly, and though Walter had retorted that they were not living in the dark ages and women were now supposed to be equal, even he had finally given up and colluded in the primacy of Edward’s position. “He was born first, you know,” he would say weakly.

She had loved Edward so much. Guided by her mother, she had looked up to him and followed his lead in all that they did together. Despite everything he had done and made her do, they still had the closeness of twins. He had demanded so much. In spite of his good looks, he’d never had a real girlfriend. Mother again! She had given such a cold shoulder to any girls brought home for inspection. And so Edward had gone underground. Enid knew he had women who supplied his needs. She shivered and hunched down in her seat. “Edward?”

“What?”

“How much further?”

“Nearly there,” he said. “You must know where we’re going by now?”

“Mmm,” said Enid.

“Well?”

“I suppose it’s Edinburgh,” she said reluctantly. She could hardly deny the existence of a band of light across the night sky, where the city awaited them.

“Brilliant deduction!” Edward was cheerful, humming that tune again.

“Where are we going to stay?” They would certainly not be going to any old friends of her parents. By the time they left, Edward had alienated all their friends. No chance that a welcoming house would be opened up for them.

“You’ll see,” said Edward. “I’ve got it all arranged. Been busy, you know. I may look like a tramp, but my organizing talents have not deserted me. And speaking of looking like a tramp, Enid, when we get where we’re going, I’d like you to do a spot of washing and ironing. Smarten me up!”

“Like Mother used to?” said Enid quickly, without thinking.

His hand left the steering wheel, fist clenched, and Enid recoiled. But he collected himself in time, and said tersely, “Shut up about Mother! She’s OK where she is. Father’ll only get upset.”

Enid said nothing, but found herself trembling. She hadn’t been able to imagine Mother in that nursing home, and wondered why. Could he be lying? Again?

“Where was that place you took her?” Enid was risking a lot, but had begun to think she hadn’t a lot to lose. Her job was finished, her home abandoned. She had sailed too close to the wind with Edward too many times. He’d almost got her into trouble more often than she could count, like that time at Waltonby vicarage when he’d come looking for her. More lies, and to that nice old vicar, too. She would never be free of him, and she feared him. But he needed her, just as he had needed her in the past, and she could make use of that.

“Didn’t you hear what I said!” Edward’s angry voice caused Walter to stir in his sleep, and he mumbled something. Enid caught the word ‘mother’, but nothing more.

“Yes, I did. But I want to know,” she said calmly. “After all, I shall want to send her a postcard of her old home, shan’t I?”

Edward said nothing, but she could hear his quick breathing. Finally he sighed, and his shoulders dropped. She knew she had won.

“It’s over the other side of Tresham,” he said. “St Mary’s Residential and Nursing Home, in that development on the eastern side. New, well-run, and very comfortable. They took her in without notice, luckily, and the minute she got there she seemed to relax. Even talked to the woman who gave us tea. Quite an eye-opener, Enid, to see our mother behaving almost normally!”

“She always loved you, Edward,” Enid said simply.

She again felt the tension, but ignored it. “You could be more understanding, you know,” she continued. “It’s really an illness with her. She can’t help it.”

“Didn’t seem ill when they brought her a plate of cream cakes!” said Edward. “Gobbled them down, like she’d been starved.”

In a way, this reassured Enid. Edward’s typically hardhearted reaction, and his telling the nasty story about Mother and the cakes, sounded convincing enough. Still, he was good at being convincing. Enid sighed. Well, if it was true, perhaps it would be the best thing for her. They might be able to bring her out of her self-imposed isolation, where Enid had failed. Maybe she should stop worrying about Mother, and start thinking about how to deceive Edward into thinking she was happy to go along with him. Her one goal now was to escape, and this would mean abandoning him. Her heart missed a beat, but she reassured herself that he would survive somehow, as he always did. She would return to Cathanger by some means or other, and prepare the way for her father to go back home. She had no idea yet how she would do it, but her mind was quite made up. She just hoped Edward could not tune into her thoughts…and she also hoped he was, for once, telling the truth about Mother.

“Enid? Are you asleep? For God’s sake, I need you to map read now. We’re on the edge of the city, and you bet all the one-way streets have been changed! Wake up, woman!”

Enid had not been asleep. She had her eyes shut, and she was thinking. From now until she reached Cathanger again, she would not stop thinking, nor relax her guard against Edward’s suspicious watch. This time he would not win. This time she would be strong.

Feeling much cheerier, she unfolded the city map, and began to direct Edward towards the centre. “Where are we going to stay?” she said.

“You’ll see,” he answered, and drove on.

When they were right in the heart of the old town, he drew the car to a halt against a high pavement. Enid recognized Lawnmarket, where she used to meet a friend for coffee.

“Help me to unload the stuff,” said Edward. “We can’t park here, of course, but I’ll get you and Father settled in with the luggage, and then go and find a place to leave the car. Wake up, Father! We’re there…back to your old hunting grounds!”

Walter showed no signs of pleasure, but grimly did as he was told. They tramped through the quiet alleyway to the back of a tall building, and then up a stone spiral staircase to the second floor. Walter was puffing and struggling, but Edward forced him on from behind. “Nearly there!” he said, and then opened a door with keys he took from his pocket.

“Lucky I still have friends somewhere,” he said, ushering them into a tiny kitchen. “Old Donald from school has this flat as a bolthole in Edinburgh. He’s done very well, has Donald. Chairman of the Board and all that. Big