Chapter 9

Penelope accepted Isobel's silence and did not pursue the conversation. She felt that Isobel was in a much better frame of mind even if she was still being stubborn about Gerry. At least she was over what Penelope had thought to herself as approaching suicidal.

"Well now," she said, "Henry's going to be home in three-quarters of an hour or so. What would you like to do? Wait and see him? Go home now or spend the night? You'd be very welcome."

"Oh no! That's a very kind offer but I really ought to get home. I'm sure that after a day's golf Henry won't want to make polite conversation."

"Fine but before I take you I want you to promise me something," she paused for effect. "Have a proper meal this evening. It's quite clear to me that you haven't been eating properly recently."

Isobel hung her head. "Promise," she said.

Penelope smiled warmly at her. "Good girl. Come on then. Leave the tea things."

When she dropped her off Penelope leant over and kissed her cheek. "Don't forget your promise and I shall be over again soon to check on you."

Isobel smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you. I'll look forward to it."

She let herself in and looked at her watch: quarter past six. "I'll dig out something to eat," she thought, "something that I can leave to cook for half to three-quarters of an hour and treat myself to my third gin of the day." She actually giggled.

She did just that but also put Mozart's 40th Symphony on the hi-fi. "Pealing violins," she thought.

She found herself recalling her time with Penelope. She thought she might feel rather ashamed letting her emotions run away with her as they had and then admitting her feelings for Gerry and why she must do nothing about them. She did not though. On the contrary she felt rather relieved, as though a weight had been lifted from her soul. It was clear that Penelope did not agree with her but had not forced her opinion on her and had shown her sympathy and concern. That night she went to bed and, for the first time in a week, slept properly waking refreshed and cheerful in the morning.

First of all she went for a run and then having showered and had breakfast decided on a day in the garden. She was tired at the end of it and slept well again on Sunday night.

Merle was delighted to see the normal, cheerful Isobel on Monday morning and reported to Eleanor who passed the good news to Henry. He in turn rang Penelope.

"Good," she said, "but go on keeping an eye on her. It may not last."

The message was relayed to Merle.

Despite his resolution to write to Isobel Gerry had done nothing about it. He did not know what to say. He could not own up to knowing about Gwen. Isobel would resent that as an invasion of her privacy. It had to be more than just a chatty letter if he hoped to get a reply. He was at his wits' end. While Isobel was with Penelope he tried to hack something out. The opening bogged him down to start with: 'Dear Isobel', 'My dear Isobel', 'Dearest Isobel', 'Hi Isobel!'? In the end he decided it had to be the first. It could not be misconstrued even though it did not carry the affection he felt for her. By Sunday evening he had written as follows:

Dear Isobel,

I have abided by your wish and have not attempted to see you nor will I until you give me permission. That does not mean that I have enjoyed myself. I miss you badly: your laughter, your quick wit, your sense of fun, your gentleness and indeed your attractiveness. I live in hope of you changing your mind. I selfishly hope you've missed me at least a bit too. After all, you did say you liked me and admitted to an attraction.

When you first said that you could not let yourself become involved I assumed that you had had a love affair that had gone sour. For some reason I no longer believe that's the case. You've been pretty reticent about your family and your time at school and I can't help but wonder if the cause lies there.

I told you lightly about how I used to get teased at school. It went on the whole way through prep school and I hated it. I made friends with no one and had no sporting ability to turn things in my favour. It was a horrible five years. I pleaded with my parents to take me away but they said that with my father forever on the move with the army my education would suffer from lack of stability. The trouble was that I wasn't in a position to argue that misery was doing just that because I had subconsciously taken refuge in becoming a swot. That didn't help my popularity much as you will doubtless imagine.

Public school started just as badly, if not worse. There was a boy in my house who had left our prep school the term before I did and he took it upon himself to lead the bullying for that is what it was. It was worse because we were much less closely supervised. One of the things they used to do was at meals. They would pour a glass of water onto my trousers and then start chanting 'Gerry the Piss has pissed his pants'. Not only was it cruel. It was humiliating. I considered running away but realised it was pointless so I stopped going to meals and lived on chocolate and cheap biscuits until my pocket money ran out. Fortunately my housemaster realised there was something going on and he managed to stop it. That meant I was ostracised by the other boys, not that I minded. I was at least left in peace.

That went on until the end of my second year when it became apparent that I could play quite good hockey. I was not ostracised on the hockey pitch because of the other boys' competitive instinct so I was able to prove myself. I was selected for Colts (the school Under 16 XI) and at last became accepted. I actually enjoyed my last three years although I never made any real friends. I could not trust them not to let me down.

I still bore my parents a grudge but after my increasing happiness at school and my academic success I began to realise that they had shown me tough love and I became grateful to them. While I was at university my mother told me of the agonies they had gone through and how several times they had nearly removed me because they knew how deeply unhappy I was.

Maybe this strikes a chord. All I do know is that, while I was able to become reconciled with my parents, I was unable to strike up a real friendship with anyone: strong acquaintances yes but no enduring friendships. Until I met you. Isobel, I've never dared but I'd like to take a chance with you. Please take a chance with me. I promise, as far as I am humanly able, never to let you down.