The Little House Read online

  She fell silent.

  ‘I’ll make the tea,’ he repeated. ‘Would you like that?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Everything is in the cupboard above the kettle. The milk is in the fridge.’

  David nodded and went to the kitchen. When Ruth heard him filling the kettle and switching it on, she quietly took the bottle of pills from her pocket and took one. Within moments she could feel her anxiety melting away. She leaned over Thomas and smiled down at him. She blew into his little face and watched him pucker in surprise at the sensation. When David came in with the tea she was rosy and smiling.

  ‘I can’t stay long,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a shift.’ He handed her a mug.

  ‘What’s going to happen about your work?’ she asked.

  He was pleased to see her taking an interest and looking more like the old Ruth. ‘I’ll get somewhere,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an interview in London next week. Something will come up, and I’m staying in practice and my voice is heard. Something’ll come up.’

  ‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘Don’t go missing on me, will you? Don’t go without giving me your address. I don’t want to lose touch.’

  He nodded, getting to his feet. He thought that in all the years that he had known her Ruth had never invited his attention. He had always been pursuing her, and she had always been casually indifferent as to whether he was there or not. Now it seemed that she needed him, and he was guiltily aware that this tearful, plump, white-faced housewife was not the woman he had desired.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Give me a ring when you’re free and we’ll go out to lunch.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, but she knew that she would not dare to ask Elizabeth to baby-sit while she went out to lunch with a man. Patrick obviously would not baby-sit under those circumstances, and naturally enough, with a mother-in-law next door, Ruth had no other baby-sitters. ‘It’s a bit tricky to get out while Thomas is so young,’ she said. The Amitriptyline had steadied her: she did not feel like crying, she managed a smile. ‘In a couple of years I’ll be out dancing every night.’

  He patted her on the shoulder in farewell. He did not want a closer embrace. ‘I’ll see myself out,’ he said. ‘You stay there with him. He’s a lovely baby.’

  ‘I know he’s lovely,’ she said. She sounded uncertain. ‘I know he is.’

  David let himself out and closed the front door behind him. The air was sharp and cold. He felt a sense of release and an elated awareness of his own youth and freedom. He was deeply glad that he was not Ruth, trapped in the little house, waiting for Patrick to come home, seeing no one but a baby. He was even glad that he was not Patrick, coming home every night to a plump, white-faced woman who cried for nothing, and a baby that never slept. He went quickly down the garden path, as if he were afraid that Ruth might call him back and he would see her crying again.

  As he was unlocking the door of his car, an Austin Rover pulled in and parked in front of him. The woman driver, an elegant, attractive woman, gave him a friendly smile.

  ‘Are you going? Have I left you enough space?’ she asked.

  The mother-in-law, David thought. And me creeping off like a clandestine lover. ‘That’s fine,’ he said boldly. ‘I’ve just been visiting Ruth Cleary.’

  ‘Oh! I’m Mrs Cleary,’ the woman sounded convincingly surprised, as if it had not occurred to her that he might have come from the cottage. ‘How nice for Ruth to have some company.’

  ‘I’m David Harrison. I used to work with her, at Radio Westerly.’

  ‘I’m sure she misses her work a lot,’ Elizabeth said. ‘She’ll have enjoyed hearing about it. Are you still working there?’

  ‘Yes,’ David said. ‘She seemed a bit tired.’

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘A new baby can be absolutely exhausting,’ she said. ‘I’ve brought her down some supper, and I’ll take Thomas back home with me to give her a little break.’

  David brightened. ‘I’m sure that’s a good idea,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t seem to be getting much sleep.’

  Elizabeth’s charming smile never wavered. ‘Actually,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘I’ve been rather worried about her. I was afraid she was getting depressed.’

  ‘She seemed very weepy,’ David said.

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘And she’s on anti-depressants, but they don’t seem to do her much good.’

  ‘Ruth is taking anti-depressants?’ He was shocked.

  Elizabeth nodded sadly. ‘It’s her choice. And I can hardly interfere.’

  David shook his head incredulously. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  ‘I’m afraid she’s very low.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought she was the type …’ David was adjusting his view of Ruth from the confident, bright journalist, the quickest, most able worker in the newsroom, to the sad housewife on pills. ‘They can be addictive, can’t they?’

  ‘The doctor prescribed it,’ Elizabeth said doubtfully. ‘He must be aware of the situation.’

  ‘But Ruth!’

  ‘I know, it hardly seems possible does it? She’s just finding motherhood terribly hard going.’

  David thought for a moment. ‘Is it the baby? Is there anything wrong with him?’

  ‘No, that’s the absurd thing. He’s an absolute peach. He sleeps well and he eats well and he’s no trouble at all. I think she may be one of those women that simply never take to motherhood.’

  ‘Well, it’s not as if she planned it …’ David said indiscreetly.

  Elizabeth’s face gave nothing away as she registered this crucial piece of information. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But she was quite happy about it, wasn’t she?’

  David grimaced. ‘I never thought so. It couldn’t have come at a worse time, and she’s a natural journalist …’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’ David asked.

  Elizabeth hesitated for a moment ‘How kind of you to offer,’ she said coolly. ‘But I’m sure we can manage.’

  David heard the snub, and opened the door of his car.

  ‘It’s been so nice meeting you,’ Elizabeth said. Her smile was warm. ‘I hope to see you again.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Cleary,’ David said. ‘I’d like to keep in touch with Ruth – and with Patrick too, of course.’

  ‘Oh, but you must!’ she said earnestly. ‘Poor Ruth needs all the friends she can get.’

  David blinked. He had never thought of Ruth as ‘poor Ruth’ before. ‘Thank you very much, Mrs Cleary.’

  ‘Call me Elizabeth! Please!’

  ‘Well, thank you, Elizabeth. Good-bye.’

  Elizabeth watched him pull away and then went into the cottage.

  There was no one in the sitting room but there were wails of distress coming from the upstairs bathroom. The sitting room smelled of vomit.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Elizabeth said softly, and went up the stairs.

  Ruth was trying to undress Thomas, who was liberally covered in regurgitated milk. Ruth’s hair and shoulder and the front of her shirt and trousers were sodden.

  ‘He just threw up!’ she said desperately. ‘He was drinking well, a whole bottle, and then the whole lot suddenly came up. Is he ill?’

  ‘No,’ Elizabeth said reassuringly. ‘He’s fine. He just probably overdid it a bit.’

  In her haste Ruth had not undone all the buttons on Thomas’s shirt. Pulling it over his head, she had got his head stuck. He was shrieking piercingly from inside the garment.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Ruth cried above the noise.

  ‘Shall I?’ Elizabeth asked.

  Ruth shot a desperate look at her.

  ‘You go and get changed out of those dirty clothes,’ Elizabeth commanded kindly. ‘And leave Master Thomas here to me. I’ll bath him and change him and take him up to the farm. When you’re ready there’s supper for you downstairs in the warming oven. Patrick can collect Thomas on his way home. You have a quiet evening on your own for a change.’ She moved forwa