Philippa Carr: We'll meet again

He suggested we take a ride and we went off together in mid-morning, telling my mother that we would have lunch out at some inn on the road.

Richard was able to ride with ease, in spite of his leg injury, but as we rode through the roads which I had known all my childhood, I sensed a certain restraint about him.

We found an inn, “The White Stallion,” with a sign depicting a splendid-looking horse over the door.

Over the food, Richard blurted out what was on his mind.

He said: “Anne is going to divorce me.”

“That is what you both wanted, isn’t it?”

“She is determined to do it her way.”

“She came to see me.”

“What!”

“Yes. It was when I was at the Ministry. I came out of the building and there she was, waiting for me.”

He stared at me in astonished dismay.

“I couldn’t understand it,” I went on. “There didn’t seem to be any point. She talked about my friendship with you. She asked about the flat.”

“The flat!”

“She said I would know it well.”

He closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath which I could not hear.

“I’d better tell you right away. She is going to divorce me on grounds of adultery.”

“Oh,” I said faintly, “I see.”

“My adultery … with you.”

I stared at him. “How can she possibly? It isn’t true.”

“That won’t concern her. I think she has been having the flat watched. It is known that we were there together. Then, of course, there was the raid. It was late in the evening and we were there alone together. It may be that will be considered evidence enough.”

“Oh, but it can’t be.”

“She’s tenacious. When she wants something she goes out and gets it. She had put off acting because she thought I might be at the Front and the chances of survival would not be great. That would have been a smooth and easy way to end the marriage. But I’m here and she believes the war will be over before I am sent out, that I shall stay on in comparative safety and her nice easy way of being rid of me will be denied her.”

“Do you really believe she is as calculating as that?”

“Calculation is second nature to her. I know her well. This is amusing her. She used to laugh at me … the virtuous barrister, she called me. So it will amuse her to see me caught up in an unsavory divorce.”

“Oh no!”

“It is what she has in mind. This is the quickest way to end the marriage and that is her aim; she is tired of it and she wants it ended and to come out of it in the best possible way herself. The bored wife who wanted to divorce her husband who was serving his country would not be viewed with sympathy. But if he is unfaithful to her, she has every reason, of course.”

“But it is so false. We were just good friends. It was only natural that I should go there and cook something for you.”

“Not to her. She knew we were friends in the past. She knows how I felt about you. She will stress that.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing. Just wait.”

“When … when will it start?”

“I don’t know. Anne will have been working on it for some time. It was the air raid which made her see she had a good case. These things take time, you know.”

“I must tell my parents.”

“Would you like me to be with you?”

“No … no. I will tell them when you have gone. I think that would be best.”

My hand was lying on the table and he leaned forward and pressed it firmly.

“I am so sorry that you have been brought into all this,” he said. “It is wretched for you.”

“For you, too.”

“Me? Oh yes. But I have brought it on myself. One must pay for one’s acts of folly. But that I should bring it on you … that worries me. I would have done anything to have avoided that. You see, Anne is well known in some circles. Her exploits are recorded. When we were married it was reported in certain papers. There may be some publicity over the divorce, and it is possible that your name will be mentioned.”

“I see. I should be branded as a loose woman, I suppose. That is what you mean?”

“It would be expected that we should marry when I am free.”

“Richard, you know …”

“… that you are waiting for Jowan’s return. But when, Violetta, when? Soon you will have to decide. When Europe is liberated … and suppose he does not come back?”

I was silent and he went on: “I shall be waiting. And, Violetta, don’t worry unduly about the divorce. These things are a nine days’ wonder.”

“Perhaps Anne is just threatening.”

“I do not think so. She wants a divorce quickly and she sees this as the easiest way to get it. It may well be that she wants to marry again and is eager to be free to do so. That might be very likely. It is clear that she is regretting our marriage as much as I am.”

“I can see I’ve been very foolish,” I said. “I should never have come to the flat as I did.”

“Don’t say that. Those little suppers were wonderful. I can’t tell you what they meant to me. I looked forward to them so much. Well, whatever happens … in time I shall be free … and when …”

He meant when I was sure Jowan would not come back. But I could not contemplate that. Since the Normandy landings, my hopes had been high.

I said: “I think we should go now.”

He called for the bill and we left.

It was difficult to get through the rest of that weekend. Fortunately my parents were preoccupied with Robert, who was eager to talk about life in the army and the prospects of going overseas shortly, which seemed to excite him but naturally had the opposite effect on my parents.

We all went to the station to see him off. He left in the late morning of Sunday. Richard stayed until the early evening.

When he had gone I felt exhausted. I kept thinking about Anne as she had been when I had met her—so elegant, so cool, so sure of what she wanted. She would be formidable. I could see how she had attracted Richard. That cool acceptance of superiority, just the wife to be an asset to a rising barrister; he no doubt had visualized her at the head of his table entertaining the Lord Chancellor. I was sure she would have done so in perfect style. So Richard had been lured into committing that act which he now called folly.

Somehow it endeared him to me a little. I had thought him so sensible; to find him vulnerable made him more human. I did not blame him as he blamed himself. I just wished that I had not become involved.

My mother had guessed something had happened and, that night, just as I was about to retire, she came to my room. She sat on the bed and surveyed me.

“Well,” she said. “What is bothering you?”

It was no use trying to keep anything from her. I had decided to tell her in any case.

I said: “Richard is married.”

The shocked expression on her face turned to dismay. She had decided that Richard was the man for me and eligible in every way.

“Has he just told you?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“He told me in London. It was the night of the air raid. It was a disaster. She is going to divorce him on the grounds of adultery … with me.”

Her expression changed to one of horror.

“It is quite false,” I said quickly. “There has never been adultery … I think not with anyone, certainly not with me.

I explained about the flat and the suppers and how he had always known I was waiting for Jowan. I left out nothing; I told her about his wife’s visit to the teashop which had puzzled me at the time, though now I knew why she had come.

“Good heavens!” my mother cried. “I don’t believe this of Richard. He is the last person …”

“People often do unexpected things.”