Act of Will. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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the sofa.
Gently forcing her daughter down next to her, she went on, ‘There’s no point in continuing this. There’s nothing to be gained. You know very well that the things we say when we’re angry are difficult to retract later, and you must admit you’re both overwrought at the moment.’
‘Yes, I suppose we are.’ Distractedly, Christina ran a hand through her hair, then slumped against the cushions, feeling miserable and frustrated. But after only a moment she jumped up, restlessly began to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace.
As she watched her, Audra’s worry intensified. She had never seen Christina quite like this before, so agitated, with her temper so close to the surface and her patience so tightly stretched. Normally she was calm, in control, no matter what the circumstance. But then her world had never been rocked as it was rocked now; and Audra knew, too, that Kyle’s words, thoughtlessly uttered in the heat of the moment and without any real malice, had nevertheless been cruel, hurtful to Christina.
Wishing to assuage that hurt as best she could, Audra said in her most reassuring voice, ‘Kyle didn’t mean it, Christie. You know, about not caring if the business collapsed. Of course she cares, and she does love you, dear.’
‘She has a fine way of showing it,’ Christina grumbled without looking at her mother, continuing to pace, her nervousness unabated, her mind still fogged by the pain her daughter had inflicted.
Audra sighed and, understanding everything, remained silent. She settled back in the corner of the sofa, waiting for Christina to calm herself, relieved that the shouting had stopped. There was hardly any sound in the room now, only the faint murmur of silk against silk as Christina moved, the ticking of the brass carriage clock on a chest between the French windows, the muffled rumble of the traffic on Sutton Place spiralling up through those windows, standing wide open on this balmy day in the middle of May. She glanced towards the terrace, mottled with sunlight, blooming with greenery and flowering plants, absently wondering how well the pink azaleas would do out there.
Then she brought her eyes back to the interior, let them roam around. For a split second her anxiousness was diluted as she absorbed the loveliness of the setting awash with tones of peach and apricot and cream, the beauty surrounding her, enveloping her…the priceless art on the walls, two Cézannes, a Gauguin…the fine English antiques with their dark glossy woods…bronze sculpture by Arp…the profusion of flowers in tall crystal vases…all illuminated by silk-shaded lamps of rare and ancient Chinese porcelains.
What marvellous taste Christina and Alex have, Audra thought, and experienced a burst of motherly pride in her daughter and son-in-law. This was not induced merely by the graciousness they had recently created in this room, but was a genuine pride in what they were as people, for all that they had achieved in their life together. They had a harmonious relationship, and their marriage had only gone from strength to strength over the years, and for that Audra was thankful.
Her thoughts settled on Alex Newman. He was a kind and gentle man, one of the most thoughtful people she had ever met. He had been like a loving son to her. How she wished he were here at this moment. He may not have succeeded in quelling the trouble which had erupted between his wife and daughter, but with his tact and good humour, and worshipping Christina the way he did, he always had a tranquillizing effect on her.
Audra turned her head, looked over at the carriage clock. To her disappointment, it was only ten minutes to five and Alex never got home from work before seven. On the other hand, perhaps he would arrive earlier today, since they were going out to dinner at eight. As she contemplated the evening stretching ahead, her heart sank. Unless there was a radical change in Kyle’s disposition in the next few hours it was going to be an awkward evening.
Now, as though she had homed in on Audra’s thoughts, Christina said, ‘I don’t much relish the idea of going to dinner at Jack and Betsy Morgan’s, nice though they are, and so fond of you, Mummy. No, not with Kyle in this bolshy frame of mind.’
Drawing to a standstill at last, Christina looked directly at her mother and smiled ruefully, her greyish-blue eyes filled with concern. For the first time she noticed the weariness etched on Audra’s face and she bit her lip, frowning.
‘You must be bone tired and terribly jet-lagged, darling, ’ she exclaimed. ‘How selfish we’ve been since you arrived yesterday. We haven’t given you a chance to catch your breath. I’d better pack you off for a rest before we go out to dinner.’
‘No, not just yet, Christie. I’m all right, really I am,’ Audra said.
Christina crossed to the sofa, sat down next to Audra and took her hand. She held it tightly, looked into her mother’s lined face, swamped by the deep and abiding love she felt for her. She shook her head and her smoky gaze was tender as she said, ‘Kyle’s judgement might be cockeyed about some things, but she could easily be right about dragging you all this way, needlessly –’ Abruptly she stopped. Guilt flooded through her. Her mother was seventy years old, almost seventy-one, and should not be exposed to their problems at this time in her life. She and Alex ought to be capable of dealing with their recalcitrant daughter themselves. Irritated at the thought of their ineptitude, Christina cried, ‘We haven’t been fair to you, expecting you to cope with us and our mess when you could be at home with Daddy! You could be pottering around in your garden, or going off on your little day trips to the seaside – certainly leading a tranquil life. You must think Alex and I are a couple of imbeciles!’
‘Don’t be so silly.’ Audra squeezed Christina’s slender hand, so different from hers, gnarled as it was by arthritis. ‘You know what your father always says – that I’d come to you no matter what it entailed if you needed me, and even if I had to walk the three thousand miles to get here. I love you, Christie, and I love that granddaughter of mine, and Alex. I can’t bear to see you all so unhappy.’
Christina confided in a low, tense voice, ‘It’s so wrong of Kyle to abandon her courses at the Fashion Institute and to spurn my business the way she is doing. Having her take over from me one day has always been a cherished dream of mine.’ These last few words caught in her throat and she had to steady herself before she could continue, ‘Oh Mum, what’s it all been about? What’s all my hard work been for, if Kyle walks away?’ Christina’s eyes welled with tears and she averted her head, blinking.
Audra felt a pang of sympathy, and her heart went out to her daughter. In an effort to comfort her, she murmured, ‘But Christie darling, you’ve derived a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction from your designing, and making a name for yourself in the fashion world has always been important to you, as well as a challenge. What you’ve accomplished, your staggering achievements and success – why surely these things must be gratifying to you…’ Audra let her sentence trail off. She was incapable of finishing it. How hollow the words are, she thought.
I, and I alone, know what Christina sacrificed, what it cost her to create the business. She paid a high price, a terrible price, really. That’s why she’s so emotional about it, why she can’t stand Kyle’s rejection of it now.
Having regained her composure, Christina was remarking in a more level voice, ‘The last two weeks have been sheer purgatory with Kyle, Mother. She’s downright stubborn. Her implacability astounds me. Unnerves me, actually. I’ve never met anyone like her.’
Oh, Audra thought, haven’t you? She threw her daughter a startled glance but she wisely said nothing. This was not the time to start delving into ancient events; there was already far too much turbulence and emotional upset in this family as it was. And so adopting a positive manner, Audra said, ‘Kyle and I have always been such good friends since she was a child, and that’s one of the reasons we decided I should come to New York, isn’t it? Anyway, I promised to spend the day with her tomorrow. I’m sure she wants to unburden herself to me, and I am more than ready to listen.’
‘But you will talk to her, won’t you? I mean as well as listen.’ Without waiting for a reply, Christina plunged on, ‘She respects you, pays attention to you, wants to please you. So you will make her see reason, won’t you, Mummy?’