Perfection Comes at a Price, page 9
“Good heavens. Why?”
“Somehow it seems my safety net. Sounds funny, that. Maybe that shows my insecurity, I don’t know. Anyway, when school finished, I moved out of my parents’ place and moved to Hammersmith where I got a job at an Estate Agents’. Then came the Foreign Office, where I entered as a clerk at Grade 10. I have now been promoted to a Grade 9 with very good promotion prospects, and from now on it is forward in life and in my career. I know that I am going to do well. There is no point in showing you some false modesty in this frank talk. That is why I permitted myself to ask Philippa to marry me. I do have something to offer.”
“Eric. You have been astonishingly honest about yourself. I fully appreciate that. It does you honour. You have guts and go. Now, I am obliged to ask you that banal question, why do you want to marry Philippa? Your type of man can have his pick of the ladies. Do you love her?”
“Sir Philip. I have great affection for her, I admire and respect her. As for soppy Hollywood type of love, no, that I do not feel. I am actually convinced that the so-called “love” is one of the worst reasons to get married. Love needs time to blossom in a nurturing environment. I am convinced that our two characters are compatible and that we would support one another well. Naturally I am aware that Philippa has a romantic passion for me. That I should be so lucky! I appreciate that very much indeed, and it fills me with happiness. I don’t think it would do her any good were I to indicate to her that perhaps I am not as romantic as she is. I want to cosset her and let her bask in her romantic thoughts if it makes her happy.”
“You are confirming what I think is the case. I think you are planning to build your marriage on a sound base. It should go well.”
“It will go well. Have no doubts about it. And another hidden question, to which you may want to have the answer, is that of other women. In the past I have had no time nor inclination towards useless affairs and flirtations. Nor will I have. I had one girlfriend for over eight years, a childhood friend of mine. However, as the years advanced, we grew in different directions. I had to put an end to it. It was as painful for me as it was for her, but reality had to be faced. A marriage cannot be conducted on love alone.”
“Thank you, Eric, for being so truthful with me. None of our conversation will go back to Philippa. I can see that you have had to surmount mountains to get to where you are. You have courage and determination and I admire your efforts. I am happy for you to marry Philippa and I welcome you into the family. Now, Eric, please drop the Sir. Just one more matter, if you should need any financial help, I should be more than happy to give it to you. Forgive my forwardness.”
“How very considerate of you, Sir, I mean, Philip. I am not too proud to accept some help for Philippa’s sake. If I could have a small loan, I would be eternally grateful. That would enable us to get a better dwelling to start life in. Otherwise we would have to start out in my bedsit. I assure you that I will pay you back every penny. Now I shall have no spare money for a while because I need to get an engagement ring. Philippa wants a square cut white diamond…”
“What!” interjected Sir Philip. “The silly girl, what an expensive wish.”
“She shall have it. My savings will go into it, but that is fine by me.”
Sir Philip looked at Eric with new eyes. He was pleased with Eric. The young man would go far. And Philippa was besotted with him, quite understandably so. His daughter had at long last chosen well. As she was already thirty-two, her child-bearing years were dwindling. Eric seemed to have made real efforts to put their coming marriage on a firm and happy ground, and with his type of determination, that was bound to prosper. Why should Sir Philip snatch away from his daughter her possibly only chance of happiness? Of course not.
He patted Eric on the back.
“All is well. Now let us go and join the ladies.”
Chapter 15
The wedding was planned for July of 1971. It was the fastest that a big wedding could be done. Philippa was agog with happiness. Her parents were happy with her. They turned out to be more than generous. As a wedding present they bought the young couple a three-bedroom house in Chelsea with a large garden. The young ones were to choose the colour schemes and the furnishings. It would be ready to move into by the end of June. After their planned honeymoon in Florence, the young couple could move straight into their new home.
The present of their new home showed how caring Philippa’s parents were. Eric could hardly believe his luck. As for his portering job – Philippa had put that to bed. She was under no circumstances having her new husband away on Sunday nights. No way. With her dowry, they had no financial difficulties so the job was not needed. Eric capitulated gracefully.
He saw Philippa as often as he could. That meant twice a week certainly, sometimes a third time. When there had been the Rhodesia affair occurred, he had had to phone her occasionally to say that he would be late. That had not worried her in the slightest. That had given great relief to Eric. From the very beginning of their relationship Eric had decided that though they were going to be a married couple, he would see to it that they did not become like Siamese twins, tied at the hip. Both he and she would remain persons apart from being spouses. He would have some friends of his own whom he would see privately and have some outings with, and she should have the same. He explained it to Philippa.
“There needs to be a certain amount of absolute personal freedom and privacy if a union is going to be happy. To even think of having to spy on the other one is already a sure sign that the relationship has broken. If so little trust is given to the other, why bother with a union? And before starting to blame the other one, a good look into one’s personal behaviour would be salutary. Do I make sense?”
You do, Eric. I agree with you entirely. It is good that we touch upon such matters before marriage. I have seen too many of my girlfriends fret about every minute they are not at the side of their boyfriends. Not good. They stifle their men. They become jailors. Nobody ever loves a jailor.”
“On occasion when I’ve been a bit late, it has been so refreshing that you have not nagged about it.”
“Darling, you have a responsible job. I want to support you in it and encourage your efforts. But, on another subject, I learn that Dr Paisley was in the news recently. Problems again.”
“Yes, ever since the Bannside by-election, which occurred as long ago as April 1970, we are lumbered with that man. What a dreadful creature. A real agitator. He is responsible for much.”
“He incites trouble wherever he can. He makes sure to inflame tempers when he sees the slightest opportunity to do so. Is that causing some flurry in the office, my love?”
“It is, and it will continue to cause flurries regularly. That problem is not going to go away quickly. If ever.”
“It is wonderful how in your job you are encountering so many different world scenarios. The busier you are, the better you look.”
“You’ve sussed me out, my sweet. Now, come and sit next to me so that I can cuddle you.”
Everything had been wonderful except that terrible visit to his parents. Philippa, like all women, was curious and so had insisted that she meet Eric’s parents. He had tried to say that she would find nothing in common with his parents, they were an ordinary working-class couple.
“I can’t avoid wondering why you are so unkeen on them. I’d want to meet them at least once. I find it all very strange.”
“Why on Earth are you so curious about them?”
“Because they are your parents. I find it absolutely normal that I should be interested in your background.”
“Is not what you see enough? Enough to have made the decision that you will have me? This curiosity of yours makes me think that you may have doubts.”
“I don’t have any doubts. I’m marrying you because I love you.”
“You might be put off me by my parents. Any thoughts like “the apple does not fall far from the tree” – and you’ll run for cover.”
“Let me be the person to make up my own mind. I am not marrying a pig in a poke. If I decide to marry the pig, it will have been my free decision. A poke is out of the question.”
“Very well. But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
Eric was seriously displeased by this turn of events. There was a lot of wisdom in the saying “let sleeping dogs lie”, but women were infernally curious. What if his parents succeeded in frightening Philippa away? That would be a blow. Not to the heart but to the purse. Eric knew that he loved money and fine things, and he knew it came from the deprivations of his childhood. His ambitions were the driving force in his life.
Was he as selfish as his parents? Had he inherited that characteristic? Most probably yes. And as for his ability to “pull the wool over people’s eyes”? That was an euphemism for the plain verb to “lie”. That ability had developed in Eric because it had been a necessity for his survival. From any visit to his parents, Philippa was bound to learn at least some things. He decided to talk to Sir Philip.
“Philip. Philippa insists that she come to meet my parents.”
“You really don’t want that, do you?”
“Hell, no. But she said that she would not marry a pig in a poke. She might marry the pig but not in a poke.”
Sir Philip’s shoulders heaved as he was trying to subdue his mirth. Eric found nothing funny in the matter.
“It was not the nicest not the most accurate of comparisons. Just a turn of phrase. She only used it to justify her curiosity.”
“She could go off me.”
“I can see that that would be a blow to you from many points of view. I am not criticising you, Eric. Ambition is not the worst quality for a man to have. No, Philippa will not go off you. I can guarantee that. She is in love with you to the deepest fibres of her being. It is as strong as her love for me, only in a male/female way. As a father I know this. So please stop worrying.”
Eric sighed with relief.
“I suggest you do it,” continued Sir Philip. “My Philippa is as curious as the next woman. Otherwise she will nag you to death. No wonder there are fairy tales like Bluebeard’s Wife! It’s too close for comfort.”
Eric did not prepare Philippa in any way. He felt it would be better for her to have it “right up front”. So the two had gone and had spent the compulsory hour in the flat. Philippa’s eyes were watering in the haze created by Eric’s mother’s cigarettes. The place reeked. The mess was unbelievable. Had it ever been dusted? The TV blared in the background. Eric’s mother’s jersey dress was tight as a sausage skin, leaving no room for any imagination. Her war-paint covering the face was thicker than ever, and she had changed her hair to a deep purple colour. Eric had felt mortified and also unendingly sad. His mother had insisted that they all drink sherry in honour of the occasion, that is, the engagement.
“This has been a bloody surprise to me. And here’s me thinking that Eric was going to marry one of the local gals. Thick as thieves they were. I bet Eric was in her knickers at an early age.”
“Mother! Please!”
“What’s surprising about that? Hell. Most gals are pregnant by eighteen. They get hitched up early. How old are you, Philippa?”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“Lord! You are pushing it! I did think that you were a lot older than Eric. If you hurry, you might just be lucky enough to get pregnant. When’s the wedding? I like parties.”
“Mum, we have not yet decided on the date. In fact we feel that we don’t want any fancy ceremony. We would prefer just a trip to the Town Hall with two witnesses.”
“What nonsense is that? You think I’m an arse-hole? I don’t believe that your fancy bit of fluff doesn’t want a wedding! Tom, don’t you think I’m right?”
“Sounds like porkies to me,” her husband replied giving a loud burp.
“Eric. You little turd! Listen and listen to me well. I want a party, get it? You can have the knot tied in an outhouse if you so wish. But I want me drink.”
“Mum, we don’t need to decide anything now. I’ve brought you a large bottle of gin. And a Tizer. Plus a pack.”
“Hmm. That’s at least something.”
The couple fled. Philippa had been appalled. She had been truly shocked. Now she fully understood why Eric avoided his parents. She would help him to avoid them even more. Eric’s life must have been sheer hell. She was silent on the way back. So was Eric. Philippa glanced at him; she could see how he was suffering. Eric indeed was suffering, but that was because at the estate they had come across Mr and Mrs Smith, Katie’s parents. He had greeted them politely, but only in passing and had not introduced them to Philippa. The sight of Katie’s parents had brought back the old times to his mind. Inside him, he missed Katie terribly. Luckily for him, his silent pensiveness was interpreted by Philippa as having its cause in his parents.
When they got back, Philippa decided to take the bull by the horns.
“Eric, I have no words to help you in this matter.”
“Darling, I knew it would be a shock for you. It can only be believed when seen. Try to forget it, my love.”
“But what about the wedding? I don’t think…”
She collapsed into sobs.
“That my parents should be invited,” Eric finished the sentence for her, “Well, neither do I.”
“Oh Eric, I’m so sorry…” she stammered.
“Don’t be. Calm down, my sweet. We shall not have our wedding day ruined. My parents won’t be there. To the guests we can say that my parents are unfortunately in quarantine because of mumps.”
“What a good idea.”
“Also, darling, please don’t fret about my parents. You don’t need to see them again. I will pay them a visit on my own from time to time.”
“Eric, you are so understanding.”
“You have such a soft heart, my love. You have led a sheltered and happy life basking in the love of your parents. That is the greatest fortune anyone can have.”
Eric’s face clouded over. For the first time Philippa saw how the childhood trauma which he had endured had caused deep wounds. Wounds that would never heal. In some way parts of Eric would remain shackled to his past and prey to inner turmoil. No matter how much she loved him, in that pain she was unable to help him. Oh Eric, oh beloved – you suffer and I can’t help you. Her feelings overflowed and she burst into desperate sobs clinging to him.
He soothed and cuddled her and eventually managed to calm her a bit.
“Darling, I think the best thing at this moment is for you to go home. Will you be able to go alone in a taxi? You can. Good. I’ll get one right now.”
Once Philippa was on her way, Eric telephoned Sir Philip.
“Philip, Eric here. I have put Philippa into a taxi, and she is on her way to you. She is in a frightful state because of that visit to my parents. It has hit her really hard. I’ve done what I can, but I think she needs her father’s advice.”
“Thank you, Eric, for alerting me. You’ve done the right thing.”
When Philippa arrived, red-eyed and pale, her father said,
“Good heavens, sweetheart! Red eyes! Have you already got to your first quarrel with your intended?”
“No, Daddy, certainly not. It’s a long story. I need a drink.”
Her father poured her a brandy. Philippa started to tell about her terrible experience. Sobs started to rack her again.
“Come and wail on my shoulder, my dearest. Let it out. It has been a real ordeal for you, has it not?”
“Oh Daddy. It doesn’t matter about me. I don’t know how to help Eric so his childhood wounds will heal. I have no way of soothing them. To see him suffer is intolerable for me. What can I do? Oh, Daddy, help.”
She was wailing by now. Her pain was terrible to see. Her father patted her.
“Daddy. I love him so much. And I think he loves me.”
“My child, calm down. Eric is devoted to you. He truly wants to make you happy. Don’t start to spoil things by excessive worry. It is clear that wounds received in childhood do not always heal. However, they need not ruin the future.
If I may be so bold as to advise my intelligent daughter, I would suggest that on occasions where you notice a brooding reticence in Eric, do not try to poke about with questions. Instead, leave him to ruminate in peace. He may even wish to get drunk sometimes. Let him. Let it pass over, and should he crash down in the guest-room, don’t make a song and dance about it. Next day behave as if nothing had happened. He will be ever so grateful to you and love you all the more for it.”
“You are so wise, Daddy. You have always helped and supported me. I am so very grateful for everything.”
She embraced her father. For a long time they sat quietly together with father stroking the long silken hair of his daughter. They were both in bliss. Father and daughter had always been like two peas in a pod.
Chapter 16
In March, Nandita asked Katie to come to see her. Nandita was six months pregnant but she was small, and the bump hardly showed. She looked radiant. The two friends settled in the lounge. After the usual exchanges, Nandita said,
“I have news for you, Katie. Eric is getting married in July to Philippa Saunders, the only daughter of Sir Philip Saunders. I know this because Beatrice Brockley-Doone, the wife of Ike’s colleague Dr Benedict, is the best friend of Philippa. She is a former Wycombe Abbey girl as is Philippa. They came to dinner with us last week and my ears pricked up when she started to say that they had been invited to a big society wedding, that of Philippa Saunders and a young diplomat called Eric Flint.”
The colour drained from Katie’s face. The news hit her like a dagger. So, Eric had already forgotten her!
