Eclipse. Lynne Pemberton

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СКАЧАТЬ coffee table which was chipped and badly stained, and a pine cabinet containing an assortment of books. Behind a brass fireguard, the fading embers of a dying fire flickered occasionally. She glanced at a photograph on the mantelpiece. It showed what looked like a young Mrs Neil. It all made her aware that she was sitting in someone else’s house; and what she really wanted was to call home and get a message to Nicholas. Except that she’d have to work out what on earth to say first …

      ‘There you are, a nice cup of tea! The remedy for all ills,’ chimed Mrs Neil as she walked in, and then poured from a teapot covered in a red knitted cosy.

      Handing Serena a steaming brew, she sat down in the chair opposite. ‘Now, I think we should have a little chat.’

      Serena peered over the rim of the cup, eyes raised in anticipation. ‘Go ahead, please.’

      ‘First of all, young lady, we both know that you’re not Mrs June Boyd.’

      Sipping hot tea, Serena considered telling Mrs Neil the truth, then hesitated. Fate had brought her to this anonymous place, and who was she to argue with fate? With warning bells ringing loud and clear in her head, she replied in a firm voice.

      ‘Does it matter who I am? You’re a midwife and your job is to deliver babies. You did just that for me last night. I know that I would’ve been in dire straights without you, and I’m very grateful. Naturally I intend to thank you generously.’

      Serena noticed that Mrs Neil’s body language had changed, albeit subtly. There was a strange tension in her that had not been present before.

      ‘My dear, you’ve had mixed-race babies; that’s a rare phenomenon, one in a million, have you any idea how it happened?’

      Serena smiled wistfully. ‘Yes, I’ve got a good idea.’

      ‘Well, I can tell you exactly how it happens, medically, so to speak. You have to have intercourse with a black man and a white man, within hours of each other.’ Mrs Neil made no attempt to disguise the contempt creeping into her voice. ‘That, young lady, is how it happens. So, what do you have to say?’ she asked.

      Serena closed her eyes, rested her head on the back of the chair, and made an effort to compose herself. ‘Only that it was the most wonderful day of my life. He was—’ her voice trailed off.

      Mrs Neil was certain she could see a glimmer of tears in the younger woman’s deep blue eyes.

      ‘I loved him, you see. I would have stayed with him, but he didn’t want that.’

      There was a profound sadness in Serena’s voice, yet Mrs Neil felt no sympathy for her. If anything, she was actually irritated by this obviously wealthy and beautiful young woman, who sat twisting her wedding ring as she talked of one-day love affairs. What did she know of life? Real life. Of hardship and loneliness? The aching kind of loneliness that never went away. It clung like shit to a blanket, so her old mother used to say.

      Mrs Neil was staring straight through Serena, her voice odd and detached. ‘Your sort will never be able to understand my sort.’

      Serena shivered, in spite of the heat in the stuffy room. She desperately wanted to go home, back to the warm security of familiarity.

      Both women sat in uncomfortable silence, until Mrs Neil spoke again.

      ‘It wouldn’t be difficult for me to find out who you really are, you know.’

      Serena returned the midwife’s probing gaze, a knot of fear tightening the pit of her stomach.

      Suddenly Mrs Neil stood up and gestured at the twins. A smile flashed across her face. ‘Please don’t worry, I’m only trying to help.’

      Serena was feeling bewildered now, not sure whether or not she could trust this woman to whom she owed so much.

      ‘Come on, let’s give you a good look at them.’

      ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ Serena replied nervously.

      The babies were still sleeping, each one snugly wrapped in a woollen blanket.

      Serena eased herself from her chair and knelt forward tentatively. She was totally unprepared for the rush of love that filled her entire being as she stared at Nicholas’s daughter.

      The child was perfectly formed. As if on cue, she had begun to stir and her perfect fingers, capped with the whitest nails Serena had ever seen, fluttered in front of her pink, oval face. She had a mass of fine hair, the colour of old gold. Although her eyes were tightly shut, her mouth, the shape of a rosebud, was moving as if she were blowing kisses.

      Serena gasped, awestruck by her own tiny creation, and she pulled at the blanket to get a better view.

      It was at that moment that the baby opened her eyes. Serena could see that they were the exact image of her own. Transfixed, she held her daughter’s gaze, convinced that the little girl could see her.

      ‘She’s a beauty, isn’t she?’ prompted Mrs Neil.

      ‘Absolutely,’ Serena whispered, eyes never leaving her daughter’s face, voice filled with longing. ‘I want to hold her.’

      The midwife recognized the wonderment of motherhood. ‘Well, I think you should look at your other daughter first; she’s a little smaller and …’

      ‘Yes, yes of course,’ Serena replied sharply, reluctant to move her eyes for a moment, but turning her head towards the second baby with a sense of apprehension.

      The baby had sensed the attention and wriggled free from her blanket, kicking her legs furiously. They seemed ridiculously long, completely out of proportion to her narrow torso and neat head.

      A wave of nausea swept over Serena. Looking at the child’s skin, so dark in comparison to that of the other one, she felt as though she might faint. She breathed deeply, noting the shiny black hair curling on to her daughter’s brow. The small features were almost identical to those of her sister, a fact which for some inexplicable reason filled Serena with dread.

      Uncurling long, thin arms, the baby reached out towards her mother. But this frail, human gesture was too much for Serena. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she bit her palm so hard that it drew blood. She looked up and stared out of the dirty living-room window, but saw only the image of Royole Fergusson.

      Suddenly she knew exactly what she had to do. If it worked, it would be the ultimate solution for her mulatto love-child, and herself.

       Chapter Six

      ‘Darling, how are you?’

      Nicholas’s voice was very faint; Serena could barely hear him.

      ‘I’m fine.’ She struggled to keep her own voice light and carefree. ‘Can you speak up, Nicky, this is a bad line.’

      ‘Where are you? I’ll call you back,’ he offered.

      ‘Oh, I’m just about to go out for the day,’ she got in quickly. ‘Anyway, what I have to say won’t take long. СКАЧАТЬ