Hold the Dream

  Jim’s brief laugh stopped her short. She looked at him, searched his face, wondering if she had imagined the edge to that laugh.

  He said patiently in a soft, smooth voice, ‘Paula, whether I’m managing director, managing editor or both, or neither, for that matter, your grandmother will still change her will. She’ll leave those shares to our children no matter what and for several good reasons.’

  ‘What reasons?’

  ‘They’re Fairleys, for one thing, and then there’s her guilt.’

  Paula blinked, for a second not understanding what he was getting at, then quite suddenly she had a flash of insight, and she stared at him intently. She hoped she had misunderstood the implication behind his words. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and asked very slowly, ‘Her guilt about what exactly?’

  ‘Wresting the Yorkshire Morning Gazette away from my grandfather, grabbing control of the company,’ he said off-handedly, lighting a cigarette.

  ‘You make it sound as if she stole it!’ Paula tersely exclaimed. ‘You know very well that your grandfather ran that newspaper into the ground, and that certainly had nothing to do with Grandy. You’ve said often enough that he was a brilliant barrister but a lousy businessman. Surely I don’t have to remind you that the other shareholders begged Grandy to take over. She bailed them out – and your grandfather, for that matter. He made a lot of money on his shares.’

  ‘Yes, you’re correct – especially about him mismanaging the paper, but I suppose he would have muddled through, limped along somehow and retained control, if your grandmother hadn’t swooped down and scooped it up.’ He gulped some of his drink, drew on his cigarette.

  ‘The paper would have gone bankrupt! Then where would your grandfather have been?’ She glared at him. ‘In a mess, that’s where!’

  ‘Look here, Paula, don’t sound so shocked. I’m only reminding you of the facts. We both know that Grandy ruined the Fairleys.’ He gave her an easy lopsided smile. ‘We’re both adults, so we’d be rather silly if we tried to sweep all that under the rug, just because you and I are married. What happened did actually happen, you know. You and I are not going to change it, and it’s certainly nonsensical for us to quarrel about it now, so long after the event.’

  Paula recoiled, gaping at him. Dismay had lodged like a rock in the pit of her stomach and she was shaking inside. As his words echoed in her head, her patience evaporated, the tension of the last few weeks rose up in her, and something snapped all of a sudden. ‘She no more ruined the Fairleys than I did! It just so happens that Adam Fairley and that eldest son of his, Gerald, did it all by themselves. Whether you want to believe it or not, your great-grandfather and great-uncle were negligent, stupid, self-indulgent and very poor businessmen. And besides, even if she had ruined them, I for one wouldn’t blame her. I’d applaud her for settling the score. The Fairleys treated my grandmother abominably. And as for your sainted grandfather, what he did to her was…was unspeakable!’ she gasped. ‘Unconscionable, do you hear! Fine upstanding young man Edwin was, wasn’t he? Getting her pregnant at sixteen and then leaving her to fend for herself. He didn’t even lift a finger to help her. As for – ’

  ‘I know all that –’ Jim began, wondering how to placate her, stop this flow of angry words.

  She cut him off peremptorily. ‘What you don’t know perhaps is that your great-uncle Gerald tried to rape her, and believe you me, no woman ever forgets the man who has attempted rape on her! So don’t start presenting a case for the Fairleys to me. And how dare you point a finger at my grandmother, after all she’s done for you! Could it be that you’re trying to gloss over your abdication of your duty to her – ’ Paula stopped herself from saying any more. Her emotions were running high and she was so furious she was shaking like a leaf.

  A sudden chill settled in the room.

  They stared at each other. Both of them were appalled. Paula’s face was so white her deep blue eyes seemed more startling than ever, and Jim’s face was taut with shock.

  His distress prevented him from speaking for a few seconds. He was stunned by her outburst and dismayed that she had chosen to totally misconstrue his words, uttered idly, and rather carelessly, he now had to admit.

  He finally exclaimed with great fervency, ‘Paula, please believe me, I wasn’t making a case for the Fairleys, or pointing a finger at Emma. How can you possibly think I would do anything like that. I’ve always respected and honoured her, since the first day I worked for her. And I’ve grown to love her since we’ve been married. She’s a wonderful woman, and I’m the first to appreciate everything she’s done for me.’

  ‘That’s nice to know.’

  Jim caught his breath, cringed at her sarcastic tone. ‘Please, Paula, don’t look at me like that. You’ve misunderstood me completely.’

  She did not reply, averted her face, stared at the mass of plants lining the glass walls of the conservatory.

  Jim jumped up. He grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the chair, took her in his arms. ‘Darling, please listen to me. I love you. The past doesn’t matter, Grandy’s the first person to say so. I was wrong to even bring it up. What they all did to each other half a century ago has nothing to do with us. Somehow we’ve gone off the rails because of this…this discussion about my resignation. Everything has been blown out of proportion. You’re overly upset about nothing. Please, please calm yourself.’ As he spoke he led her to a loveseat and pressed her down, seated himself next to her, and took her hand, looked deeply into her face.

  He said, ‘Look, I agree with you, Paula, what my grandfather did was unspeakable. And he knew that himself. He lived with a guilty conscience for the rest of his life. In fact, his actions as a young man ruined his life in many ways. He confided that in me before he died. He never stopped regretting losing Emma and their child, nor did he stop loving her, and at the end all he wanted was your grandmother’s forgiveness. When he was dying he implored me to go to Emma and beg her forgiveness for everything the Fairleys had done to her, himself most of all. Don’t you remember I told you this? I spoke to Grandy about it the night she announced our engagement.’

  ‘Yes,’ Paula said.

  ‘I repeated everything to Grandy – his last words just before he slipped away. He said, “Jim, it will be an unquiet grave I lie in if Emma does not forgive me. Implore her to do so, Jim, so that my tortured soul can rest in peace.” And when I told Emma she wept a little, and she said, “I think perhaps your grandfather suffered more than I did, after all.” And Paula, Emma forgave him. She forgave all of the Fairleys. Why can’t you?’

  She lifted her head sharply, startled by the question. ‘Oh Jim, I –’ There was a short pause before she finished, ‘There’s nothing for me to forgive. I think you’ve misunderstood me.’

  ‘Perhaps. But you were so angry, shouting at me, going on about the Fairleys…’

  ‘Yes, I did lose my temper, but you riled me when you said Grandy had guilty feelings. I know her, and far better than you, Jim, and I’m convinced she doesn’t feel guilty about anything.’

  ‘Then I was wrong,’ he said with a weak smile. ‘I apologize.’ He was relieved she sounded more normal.

  ‘You’re wrong about something else too.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The past. You just said that the past doesn’t matter, but I can’t agree with you. The past is always coming back to haunt us, and we can never escape it. It makes prisoners of us all. Grandy might give lip service to the idea that the past is no longer important, but she doesn’t really believe this. She’s often said to me that the past is immutable and it most certainly is, in my opinion.’

  ‘The sins of the fathers and all that – is that what you mean?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Yes.’

  Jim exhaled, shook his head.

  Paula looked at him carefully. ‘I have a question. You might not like it, but I feel compelled to ask it.’ She waited, watching him closely.

  He stared back at
her. ‘Paula, I’m your husband, and I love you, and there should never be anything but complete honesty and directness between us. Obviously you can ask me anything. What’s the question?’

  She took a breath, plunged. ‘Do you resent Grandy? I mean because she’s the owner of the Gazette and not you? If your grandfather had managed to retain control you would have inherited the paper.’

  Jim’s jaw dropped in astonishment and he gaped at her, then he laughed. ‘If I had any resentment – or bitterness or jealousy – I’d hardly be resigning as managing director. I’d be scheming to get the paper for myself – at least, to get as much power as I possibly could. And I’d have been dropping hints to you long ago to influence Grandy to leave the newspaper shares to our children…so I could get absolute control through their holdings. With that kind of clout at my fingertips I would be kingpin in the company, after Emma was dead. Actually, it would be mine in a manner of speaking, since I would be handling their business affairs until they came of age.’ He shook his head, still laughing. ‘Now wouldn’t I have done that?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Paula admitted in a drained voice, feeling suddenly debilitated.

  Jim said, ‘Paula, surely you realize by now that I’m not money hungry, nor particularly ambitious for power. I like running the papers, being managing editor, I admit that, but I don’t want to be involved in business and administration.’

  ‘Not even when you know that the newspaper company will be your children’s one day?’

  ‘I trust Winston. He’ll do a good job. After all, he does have rather a big stake in the Consolidated group when you consider that he and the Hartes own half the company. He controls forty-eight per cent of the shares, don’t forget.’

  Paula knew there was no point arguing with him any further about his resignation, at least not now. She stood up. ‘I think I’ve got to go outside…I need some fresh air.’

  Jim also rose, looking at her with concern. ‘Are you all right? You’re awfully pale.’

  ‘Yes, really. Why don’t you spend a few minutes with the babies before you change? I’ll be up in a short while – I just need to take a stroll around the garden.’

  He caught her arm as she moved towards the door, swung her to face him. ‘Friends again, darling?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she reassured him, conscious of the anxiety reflected in his eyes and recognizing the plea in his voice.

  Paula walked slowly through the garden, circumvented the plantation of trees and took the narrow path leading to the second lawn that sloped down towards the grove of laburnum trees and the pond.

  She was considerably shaken by their quarrel and her senses were swimming. She sat down on the steps of the white-painted summerhouse, relieved to be alone, to regain her equilibrium. She deplored the fact that she had lost control, flown into a temper, and her only excuse was the extreme provocation. Jim’s remark that her grandmother was guilt-ridden about the Fairleys had been so inflammatory it had made her blood boil. The suggestion was ridiculous. Just as his resignation was ludicrious.

  Although she was desperately troubled by that impulsive and irresponsible move on his part, her dismay about it had been jostled to one side by the impact of their collision. This last row was a lot more serious than one of their quarrels about Edwina. It had struck an important fundamental in any marriage – trust; and it raised questions in her mind about Jim, his innermost feelings for her grandmother and his loyalty to Emma. Her head was teeming with questions. Did he bear a grudge against Emma Harte because she now owned everything the Fairleys had once owned? Perhaps subconsciously, without really understanding that he did? It struck her, and very sharply, that this was not beyond the realms of possibility. After all, he had been the one to launch into the past, not she, and if the past didn’t matter, as he had claimed, then why had he brought it up in the first place?

  Were resentment and bitterness at the root of his statement after all? She trembled at this thought. Those were the most dangerous emotions in the world, for like cancer they gnawed away at a person’s insides, and they were destructive, coloured everything a person did. Yet when she had asked Jim bluntly if he resented Grandy he had obviously been flabbergasted by the idea, and his answer had been immediate, direct, and totally without guile. He had been genuine, she had seen that instantly. She had always found Jim relatively easy to read. He was not a devious man, quite the reverse really, in that he was not constitutionally cut out to dissemble.

  Paula leaned against the railings and closed her eyes, her mind working at its rapid and most intelligent best, assessing and analysing. She had always believed she knew Jim inside out, but did she really? Perhaps it was arrogant of her to think she had such great insight into him. After all, how well did anyone know another person when one got right down to it? There had been times when she had found those who were closest to her, with whom she had grown up, difficult and even impossible to comprehend on occasions. If members of her immediate family and her oldest friends were frequently baffling, how could she possibly understand a man she had known for a brief two years, a man who might easily be termed a stranger even though he was her husband? She had come to realize that people could not always be taken on face value…most people were highly complex. Sometimes they themselves did not recognize what motivated them to do the things they did. How well did James Arthur Fairley actually know himself? And, come to think of it, how well did he know her?

  These nagging questions hung in the air, and she finally let go of them, sighing, understanding that she had no ready answers for herself. She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, so relaxed, curled in her lap. The tension had gone, and now that her anger had all but dissipated entirely she was able to think objectively and with a cool head. She acknowledged that she had leaped down Jim’s throat. Of course he had been awfully provocative, but that was no doubt unintentional on his part. They were both at fault, and if he had a few imperfections then most assuredly so did she. They were both human. As he had defended himself against her strong verbal onslaught she had heard the ring of truth and sincerity in his voice, had noted the genuine love written all over his face. It suddenly seemed inconceivable to her that Jim could harbour ill feelings for her grandmother. Furthermore, she owed it to her husband to believe that he did not. Yes, she must trust him, give him the benefit of the doubt. If she was not capable of doing that then their relationship would be threatened. Besides, he had made a very salient point, one she could not now ignore. He had said he would hardly be resigning as managing director if he was embittered and felt that the Gazette was his by rights, that instead he would be making sure he grabbed all the power for himself. She could not deny that his words made sense. Anybody who was goaded on by resentment to get even, to win, would hardly be quitting the arena. He would be planning the coup-de-grâce.

  Thoughts of his resignation intruded more sharply, but she clamped down on them with resoluteness. Wisely, she decided she had better shelve that sensitive issue for the time being. It was hardly the time to start tackling him about that again when their guests were due to arrive shortly. And especially since Edwina was one of those guests. She most certainly wasn’t going to let her see a chink in the armour.

  Jim stood at the window where, from this angle, he could see Paula sitting on the steps of the summerhouse. His eyes remained riveted on her and he wished she would come back inside. It was imperative that he smooth things over between them.

  He had not meant any harm when he had mentioned that old worn out story about Emma Harte ruining the Fairleys. But he had been tactless, no use denying it, and a bloody fool for not realizing that Paula would react fiercely. Jim exhaled wearily. She had overreacted in his opinion; after all, facts were facts and quite inescapable. But then his wife was irrational about her grandmother, worshipping her the way she did. She wielded a club on anyone who dared to even hint that Emma was less than perfect. Not that he ever said a wrong word about her…he had no reason to
criticize or condemn Emma Harte. Just the opposite, actually.

  Paula’s revelation about Gerald Fairley attempting to rape the young Emma edged to the front of his mind. It was undoubtedly true, and the very idea of it was so repellent to him he shivered involuntarily. On the rare occasions Gerald’s name had cropped up in conversation, he had divined a look of immense distaste and contempt on his grandfather’s face, and now he understood why. Jim shook his head wonderingly, thinking how entangled the lives of the Fairleys and the Hartes had been at the turn of the century; still the actions of his antecedents were hardly his fault or his responsibility. He had not known any of them, except for his grandfather, and so they were shadowy figures at best, and anyway the present was the only thing that mattered, that counted for anything.

  This thought brought his eyes back to the window. He moved the curtain slightly. Paula was a motionless figure on the steps of the old summerhouse, lost in her contemplations. Once she had returned to the bedroom to change her clothes, he would sit her down, talk to her, do his damnedest to make up to her, apologize again if necessary. He was beginning to loathe these quarrels, which had become so frequent of late.

  He ran his hand through his fair hair absently, a meditative look settling on his finely-drawn, rather sensitive face. Paula could be right – maybe Emma was not in the least troubled by her past deeds. Now that he considered it objectively, in a rational manner, it suddenly struck him that she was far too pragmatic a woman to worry about matters that could not be altered. And yet he could not dismiss the sense of guilt he had detected in her from time to time. Perhaps her guilt was centred solely on him, had nothing to do with those long-dead Fairleys. There was no question in his mind that Emma worried about him. This was the reason he had not been in the least surprised when Paula had mentioned the will, since he had always expected Emma to change it, to favour his children. He did not crave the shares for himself, nor could Emma leave him her interest in the papers without causing a stink in the family. And so Emma, being fair minded and scrupulous, was doing her level best to make amends, to make things right and proper in the only way she knew how. She was giving Lorne and Tessa their birthright…the inheritance he himself would have willed to his children if his family had retained control of the newspaper.