manage, what with everything being such an awful price – the cost of living, you know – and Charles not having a job in line …’ Archery felt amazement. Was she really concerned with this trivia? He began to wonder how he would broach the subject that had brought him to Purley. ‘I mean where will they live?’ Mrs Kershaw asked primly. ‘They’re just babies really. I mean, you’ve got to have a home of your own, haven’t you? You’ve got to get a mortgage and …’
‘I think I can hear the kettle, Renee,’ said her husband.
She got up, holding her skirt modestly down to cover her knees. It was a very suburban skirt of some permanently pleated material banded in muted blue and heather pink and of dead sexless respectability. With it she wore a short-sleeved pink jumper and around her neck a single string of cultured pearls. If cultured meant tended and nurtured, Archery thought he had never seen such obviously cultured pearls. Each night, he was sure, they were wrapped in tissue and put away in the dark. Mrs Kershaw smelt of talcum powder, some of which lingered in the lines of her neck.
‘I don’t think we’ve got to the mortgage stage yet,’ said Kershaw when she had gone. Archery gave a wry smile. ‘Believe me, Mr Archery, I know you haven’t come here just for an in-laws’ get-together over the tea cups.’
‘I’m finding it more awkward than I thought possible.’
Kershaw chuckled. ‘I daresay. I can’t tell you anything about Tess’s father that isn’t common knowledge, that wasn’t in the papers at the time. You know that?’
‘But her mother?’
‘You can try. At times like this women see things through a cloud of orange blossom. She’s never been very keen on Tess being an educated woman. She wants to see her married and she’ll do her best to see nothing stands in her way.’
‘And you, what do you want?’
‘Me? Oh, I want to see her happy. Happiness doesn’t necessarily begin at the altar.’ Suddenly he was brisk and forthright. ‘Frankly, Mr Archery, I’m not sure if she can be happy with a man who suspects her of homicidal tendencies before she’s even engaged to him.’
‘It isn’t like that!’ Archery hadn’t expected the other man to put him on the defensive. ‘Your stepdaughter is perfect in my son’s eyes. I’m making the inquiries, Mr Kershaw. My son knows that, he wants it for Tess’s sake, but he doesn’t even know I’m here. Put yourself in my position …’
‘But I
was
in your position. Tess was only six when I married her mother.’ He looked quickly at the door, then leaned closer to Archery. ‘D’you think I didn’t watch her, look out for the disturbance to show itself? When my own daughter was born Tess was very jealous. She resented the baby and one day I found her leaning over Jill’s pram striking her on the head with a celluloid toy. Luckily, it
was
a celluloid toy.’
‘But, good heavens …!’ Archery felt the pallor drawing at his face muscles.
‘What could I do? I had to go to work and leave the children. I had to trust my wife. Then we had a son – I think you bumped into him outside cleaning the car – and Jill resented him in just the same way and with just the same violence. All children behave like this, that’s the point.’
‘You never saw any more – any more of these tendencies?’
‘Tendencies? A personality isn’t made by heredity, Mr Archery, but by environment. I wanted Tess to have the best sort of environment and I think I can say, with all due modesty, that she has.’
The garden shimmered in the heat haze. Archery saw things he hadn’t noticed at first, chalk lines on the lawn, where, regardless of herbaceous borders, the grass had been marked out for a tennis court; a shambles of rabbit hutches attached to the garage wall; an ancient swing. Behind him on the mantelpiece he saw propped against ornaments two party invitations. A framed photograph above it showed three children in shirts and
‘I think I can hear the kettle, Renee,’ said her husband.
She got up, holding her skirt modestly down to cover her knees. It was a very suburban skirt of some permanently pleated material banded in muted blue and heather pink and of dead sexless respectability. With it she wore a short-sleeved pink jumper and around her neck a single string of cultured pearls. If cultured meant tended and nurtured, Archery thought he had never seen such obviously cultured pearls. Each night, he was sure, they were wrapped in tissue and put away in the dark. Mrs Kershaw smelt of talcum powder, some of which lingered in the lines of her neck.
‘I don’t think we’ve got to the mortgage stage yet,’ said Kershaw when she had gone. Archery gave a wry smile. ‘Believe me, Mr Archery, I know you haven’t come here just for an in-laws’ get-together over the tea cups.’
‘I’m finding it more awkward than I thought possible.’
Kershaw chuckled. ‘I daresay. I can’t tell you anything about Tess’s father that isn’t common knowledge, that wasn’t in the papers at the time. You know that?’
‘But her mother?’
‘You can try. At times like this women see things through a cloud of orange blossom. She’s never been very keen on Tess being an educated woman. She wants to see her married and she’ll do her best to see nothing stands in her way.’
‘And you, what do you want?’
‘Me? Oh, I want to see her happy. Happiness doesn’t necessarily begin at the altar.’ Suddenly he was brisk and forthright. ‘Frankly, Mr Archery, I’m not sure if she can be happy with a man who suspects her of homicidal tendencies before she’s even engaged to him.’
‘It isn’t like that!’ Archery hadn’t expected the other man to put him on the defensive. ‘Your stepdaughter is perfect in my son’s eyes. I’m making the inquiries, Mr Kershaw. My son knows that, he wants it for Tess’s sake, but he doesn’t even know I’m here. Put yourself in my position …’
‘But I
was
in your position. Tess was only six when I married her mother.’ He looked quickly at the door, then leaned closer to Archery. ‘D’you think I didn’t watch her, look out for the disturbance to show itself? When my own daughter was born Tess was very jealous. She resented the baby and one day I found her leaning over Jill’s pram striking her on the head with a celluloid toy. Luckily, it
was
a celluloid toy.’
‘But, good heavens …!’ Archery felt the pallor drawing at his face muscles.
‘What could I do? I had to go to work and leave the children. I had to trust my wife. Then we had a son – I think you bumped into him outside cleaning the car – and Jill resented him in just the same way and with just the same violence. All children behave like this, that’s the point.’
‘You never saw any more – any more of these tendencies?’
‘Tendencies? A personality isn’t made by heredity, Mr Archery, but by environment. I wanted Tess to have the best sort of environment and I think I can say, with all due modesty, that she has.’
The garden shimmered in the heat haze. Archery saw things he hadn’t noticed at first, chalk lines on the lawn, where, regardless of herbaceous borders, the grass had been marked out for a tennis court; a shambles of rabbit hutches attached to the garage wall; an ancient swing. Behind him on the mantelpiece he saw propped against ornaments two party invitations. A framed photograph above it showed three children in shirts and
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