Tremor
I’m going to New Zealand, Lee. How about that for a lunatic idea? I’m going out to join my cousin Althea. For years since her husband died, she has been running their small boatyard and living on small boats. You know how I adore small boats. Always when I have a week with Daddy in the summer we muck about in cutters and yachts of all sizes and even dinghies. You know all this. I’ve told it you so often. And I know you hate it.
There’s always been that tug of the sea in my blood, and a sort of yearning. I’ve been a good wife, haven’t I? Traveling all over the world with you. Going to conferences with you, talking over difficult law cases with you. Don’t think this has been any sort of a chore for me. Darling Lee, promise you will not think that. I’ve really loved it, as you must know. But I have no belief in an afterlife, and I want before it is too late to lead a totally different life.
With luck – with luck I shall have a bit of time, a bit of active time to live another way.
I shan’t come back. I know that in my bones. I have a little money, and it will do me well enough. I hope you will be able to live a comfortable and cheerful life without me. Please, please, don’t grieve. Please, please understand. Please, please forgive me. I am leaving all my things behind me, which also has been a wrench. You are the only man I have ever loved and you are the only man I ever shall love. But I have to take this step.
Believe me, your ever devoted
Ann
II
Ann was a healthy, robust woman, nearly as tall as he; apart from her inability to have children and an operation she had had three years ago, she had enjoyed perfect health. She had kept her good looks and her good spirits; tall, blonde, very feminine, very practical. Every year, of course, she had gone down to Dartmouth, spent as long as she could be spared with old Simon Hayward, and Lee had always been happy to listen to her adventures when she came home, and happy that she had enjoyed herself. But this …
This was impossible.
The telephone was answered at the third ring. Living alone as Congressman Hayward did now, he was not often far from a telephone.
‘Lee? Ah, I was expecting you to ring. Yes … Only this morning. She rang me about nine … No, of course I had nothing to do with it! Except that she has talked about it often during the last few years – how she’d love to do it. It wasn’t my suggesting, I promise you. She never mentioned it to you? … Well, it was a pipe dream, wasn’t it. That’s what I thought. Once you stop condemning her, you can’t help but admire her … No, I suppose not; not yet. It’s a terrible reason to break up a marriage, I guess. I mean, one as good as yours, Lee. But she was always crazy about the sea, though she saw so little of it. Don’t forget her grandfather and her great-grandfather were both in the US Navy. I can’t explain it better than that!’
Lee could picture the old man, dressed as he always was in a blue reefer jacket with brass buttons, denim trousers, sandals, open-neck shirt with big black tie tied so loosely that it was like a cravat, grey hair cut very short, gold-rimmed spectacles; rather a ‘ character’ in the district, now trying to explain the inexplicable, to justify the unjustifiable.
‘Althea? She’s not really a cousin but she grew up in Massachusetts, they went to school together; she married a guy from New Zealand and she’s been living in North Island ever since. She’s been back twice. Apparently they own a boatyard. Of course you can see the appeal … I don’t know. Obviously Ann hasn’t been there, but she must have seen photos and home movies, that sort of thing. Sure, Lee, she may come back, but not for a while, I’d say. Anyway we can’t stop her, can we; she’s kicked up her heels and gone. Which way was she travelling, d’you know? No, I guess she wouldn’t tell you, would she. She certainly didn’t tell me.’
The old man coughed and listened. ‘No, I certainly wouldn’t go after her. Look, Lee, I’m real sorry this has happened to you. You’re a fine guy, and you’ve done really well by Ann, and now she’s played you what may seem to you like a dirty trick. But you’ve got to think you’ve had thirty-five years together, and that’s a fair crack of the whip … No, I certainly don’t see it as any sort of reflection on you. As I expect she said to you, she wants to lead a totally different life, a sea life, an active life, with boats. She hasn’t got all that long – though maybe looking at myself, I’m eighty-three, and I still muck around with boats and the like – she’s got a fair time. What shall you do? … No, I’m sure, you’ve hardly given it a thought yet. But take it easy, boy, there’s a lot of water still to flow under the bridge. Like me to come over and see you? No, well, any time, just lift the phone … I suppose she’s travelled pretty light, so there’ll be a lot of her stuff around. I should try to carry on for a while and see how the dice roll. Of course I’ll tell you if she rings.’
When he got off the telephone Hannah came back into the room. ‘Will I bring in the supper, sor?’
‘Not yet. I’ll take another drink first. I’ll ring the bell when I want you. Is Della here?’
‘No, she’s went long since. Mrs Burford specially asked me to be here this evening. She seemed to think it would be better.’
‘OK. I’ll not keep you too late, otherwise your husband will be getting anxious.’
‘Oh, no, sor, he knows. I said I’d be home by eleven.’
Lee didn’t ask if her husband knew why she’d been called in or knew that Ann had left. Anyway it would soon be all over the village.
‘Oh, sor, before I leave you, Mrs Heinz is downstairs. She said she’d like to see you.’
Was this another link in the chain? ‘Of course. Send her up.’
III
Letty Heinz said: ‘ Yes, I knew about it, Mr Burford. But only since Wednesday.’
‘What did you know?’
‘That she was thinking she might leave. It was not till she came back from Concord and said she had been to the travel agent that I supposed she was in real earnest.’
Letty Heinz was a recent friend. One of Ann’s peculiarities – for Ann had none of Lee’s reserve – was a tendency to take a sudden fancy to someone she had just met and make a fuss of them. It sprang from goodwill and a genuine interest in other people’s lives. When Letty had first appeared at their bridge table Lee had not been taken with her. He looked on her as one of Ann’s lame ducks, and a not particularly well-educated lame duck at that. She seemed to know nothing about music or to be even reasonably well-read.
Letty Heinz was half Norwegian, half English, it seemed, and had come to America during the war, had married Carl Heinz, a long-distance truck driver, and they had a son called Leon; she was separated from her husband, and her son, instead of going on to college, had fallen for one of the new psychedelic beliefs while still at his state school and was now a drop-out, living in a commune in New York.
She didn’t seem quite the companion for Ann – never had – but when Ann had to have an operation for removal of a cyst she invited Letty to come to the house and look after her for a few days, and this had been a success. Letty unexpectedly turned out to be a good bridge player, so she had stayed a month. Thereafter she had quite often come in for an afternoon’s bridge, and had also partnered Ann at duplicate – a form of bridge that Lee disliked.
She was a pretty woman, slim, almost petite; and partly because of her slightness she looked younger than thirty-eight, which she said she was. He had felt once or twice in the last year or so that Ann and Letty had confidences between each other that they did not share with him. His resentment was vague and unspecified and certainly not a reason for any complaint. Anyway his trust in Ann had been complete. But he looked at Letty now without warmth.
‘Why have you come?’
‘Come? Here, you mean? I came to see you, Mr Burford.’
‘For some reason?’
‘Well, yes, I heard what had happened and I thought I might be of some help in this – this trouble you are in.’
‘You can only help me by telling me anything you knew of her plans, what she has said to you.’
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Letty shrugged her shoulders. ‘ Oh, we have talked of it now and then. Yes, I must say that. But there was never any hint of criticism of you in this talk. You have always been the good husband, the kind, thoughtful husband, and she, I think, I think Mrs Burford has always been the kind, thoughtful wife.’
Lee nodded.
‘I guess,’ she said, ‘there’s often articles in magazines giving reasons why this sort of thing can happen: middle age, change of life, but … But I do not believe it was that with her. It is a – a dream which she has wished to realize. You know? Now, perhaps, with God’s help, she will be able to realize it.’
‘But not with my help,’ said Lee bitterly.
‘It is hard for me to say the right thing,’ Letty said. ‘I have only known Mrs Burford a few years – you also that long, but you mainly at a distance. But I think you have given Ann a wonderful life, have given her every comfort and all your affectionate attention.’
‘I believe I did.’
‘Now she has gone to do something else. But do not say you have not helped her. She is carrying your love with her. If you continue to give her that love you will be helping and supporting her in the way she now most wants.’
‘And when she returns?’
Letty Heinz wrinkled her eyebrows. ‘The way she spoke, Mr Burford, I do not think she will return.’
IV
‘Of course she’ll be back,’ said Henry Hayward heartily. ‘I give her six months maximum. Why, it’s outrageous, what she’s done, and before long she’ll realize it and return to the fold.’
Henry Hayward was Ann’s elder brother; he had been with the Federal Reserve Bank but was now retired. He came over the following day, with his wife; they had been almost due for their annual visit and presumably this crisis, this outrageous defection on the part of his little sister, was reason enough to accelerate their arrival. Lee had never been close to Henry. He always felt in his bones that Henry thought Ann had married a bit beneath her by not marrying someone who had been to Groton. Henry seemed to remember his school and college days with a sort of retarded affection. Even at sixty-eight he still referred to his membership of the Hasty Pudding Club. Lee, on the other hand, so far as he ever thought of it, recalled his first terms at Harvard with some discomfort, where he had been one of an underprivileged group, living in a rooming house near Central Square and being only tolerated by those who came from fashionable schools.
Now, almost as if Lee were ill, Jessie Hayward virtually took over the running of the house, frightening Della and irritating Hannah in the process. In fact Lee did not find the extra company unwelcome at this time. He had a rooted objection to discussing his affairs with anyone outside, but this was family, and they could talk and talk and talk over and over the strange desertion that had taken place. Lee telephoned his office and told them he had flu and would not be in for a few days. For the moment his cases, those interesting cases, could go hang.
But being at home did not do much for him, and he mooned about the house, allowing Jessie free rein in everything she suggested. One day they drove to Dartmouth to see the old man, but very little came from it to shed light on what to Lee was still a complete mystery. The only irritating incident of the visit was over lunch, when Jessie asked her father-in-law whether he thought there was a man involved. Henry and his father both pooh-poohed the idea, and then, as it were, turned to Lee seeking confirmation.
Lee put down his knife and fork and said: ‘After what has happened I guess anything is possible, but I’d say we lived in as near complete harmony, Ann and I, as you can get in this world. There’s never been another man in her life – that I would have known – I mean in the years past – and there’s never been another woman in mine.’
‘It’s the boats,’ said Simon Hayward with conviction. ‘When she used to come down here she would be busy as a bird dog, in and out and up and down the causeway. It’s just the boats and the sea.’
Nevertheless, the suspicion, once put into words, did not altogether go away, and when they got home he began to search through his wife’s papers and personal belongings. All he found was a very long letter from Althea, dated February, going into great detail as to what their life in New Zealand, in the Bay of Islands, in a boatyard, was really like, and making no attempt to glamorize it; though it was clear from some of the phrases that she by then knew what Ann was about. One of her sentences ran: ‘ I know you say Lee would loathe it all, but do you not think it worth giving him the choice?’
Other than this, the only contributory evidence was a drawer full of yachting magazines and brochures about life in New Zealand. As he closed the drawer he thought: ‘I would have loathed it, every damned minute of it. I loathe the wet messiness of small boats, the fiddling with ropes, the scrape of sails, the smell of tar. And I’m easily seasick and I have a prosperous law business which I would not dream of leaving. So it would not have been much good her inviting me to throw everything up here and go with her! The option that Althea did not think it worth suggesting was that Ann should throw her silly romantic dreams into the discard and continue to live her life in Concord.’
A couple of days later he was in the garden and saw Letty Heinz leaving the house, about to mount her bicycle. He called to her, and she turned eagerly, her face upturned, ready to smile at him if his expression permitted it. His expression did not permit it. He had a sneaking suspicion that she still knew more about the whole affair than she had so far told him. She might have encouraged Ann in her wild and scatter-brained scheme.
When he did not speak she said: ‘I have called in to see Hannah to see if there is any word yet from Mrs Burford.’
‘Have you had any?’
‘Oh no. I do not expect any – not yet. She promises sometime she will write.’
‘Do you know if she is travelling alone?’
‘Oh yes, I think so. At least, she only bought but one ticket.’
‘Which way was she travelling?’
‘To Los Angeles, and then across the Pacific.’
‘Perhaps she was joining someone – some other guy.’
Letty looked up at him quickly. ‘She never mentioned anyone. I do not think that is to be considered possible, Mr Burford. That was not – never in her thoughts.’
Some birds were quarrelling in a nearby maple.
She said: ‘You were very much in love with her.’
He fingered the Phi Beta Kappa ring on his left hand. ‘We were deeply attached to each other.’
‘Do you not have any sympathy for what she has done?’
‘Perhaps I could find some sympathy if I could understand.’
‘I assure you she was not happy to leave.’
‘But she did leave.’
‘She said before she left that she hoped you would understand – and accept. She said she thought you loved her enough for that.’
‘Never mind love. It is a betrayal of our – our wonderful companionship.’
Letty was silent.
He wondered why he so disliked her.
‘Your family are staying long, Mr Burford?’
‘No, leaving tomorrow.’
‘I’m sure you will have made all – all arrangements?’
‘Some, yes. Not all.’
‘I do not know if I can help any more.’
‘In what way?’
‘If later on you wanted to play bridge. It was just a thought. I would arrange it, the way I did for your wife.’ When he did not answer she went on: ‘I simply mean, I know the house and could make sandwiches or bake a cake or whatever …’
She knew the house.
He said: ‘I can manage.’ And then, aware of his brusqueness and his own reputation for good manners, ‘But thank you. If I think more of it I’ll let you know.’
V
Before Henry and Jessie left Jessie said: ‘ It’ll be too early for you to make any plans, Lee, but I suppose you won’t go on living in this big house alone.’
‘I??
?ve decided nothing yet.’
‘Naturally. Shall you keep both the maids on, d’you think?’
‘Probably. Hannah’s a good worker. And Della is always willing and helps with the garden when she hasn’t anything else to do.’
‘There are one or two very nice apartments for sale in Boston itself,’ said Henry. ‘There’s a duplex just come on the market – near the Esplanade, overlooking the river. In time you might find that more convenient. You’ve always been a bit far out.’
‘I shan’t do anything in a hurry,’ Lee said.
‘Naturally,’ said Jessie again.
By now of course everyone in the neighbourhood knew of Ann’s going. Their reaction varied from the quietly sympathetic to the boisterously cheerful ‘well, I’m sure you’ll soon snap out of it’ brigade. It wasn’t, as some of them said between themselves, as if she’d died. She would come back; almost certainly she would come back. And if not, well, that was it. Maybe, they whispered, she’d found, or would find, a young lover. Fifty-eight was a funny age for a woman: past child-bearing but not, oh not, past wanting a bit of action. Sometimes at that age you couldn’t keep them away from it. Lee was a good-looking, good-tempered man, but lawyers tended to get dried up, prosy. Who would blame her if she found she could do better? There was also a little wry amusement among those who did not like the Burfords so well, that their formal marriage had at last fallen apart.
Lee went to San Francisco for a few days’ vacation. He had many good friends there but none of them had had any recent letters from Ann. Yet the friendship he was offered had the effect of making him feel more alone. He and Ann had been constant travellers, and he suspected it would be quite hard to discover some corner of the world where her shadow did not fall. The one place he was certain he would not visit was New Zealand.
He was almost relieved to get home. It was absurd to feel the break, the desertion, less among the most familiar of surroundings; but at home his work took up the days and often the evenings. He brought more work home with him. He thought of resuming the bridge evenings, which he had enjoyed, but could not summon up the enterprise. Letty Heinz had offered to help him, but Letty had dropped out of his life and he had no wish to bring her back into it again.