December 1962
Julia
Breathless with laughter and exertion, Julia stood for a moment to watch Charles chase after Ralph with a snowball in his hand.
They had been out here in the garden for over an hour, the snow constantly falling. It had been Ralph’s idea for Julia to have a go at sledging with him and Charles. To Ralph’s disbelief, she had admitted that she had never been on a sledge before. Her father had been against such frivolity when she’d been a child, and Arthur had said it was not befitting of any wife of his to behave in so undignified a manner. ‘Then you haven’t lived,step-mama.’ Ralph had said. ‘And it’s time you did! Isn’t that so,Charlie-Boy?’
His eyes ablaze with delight, Charles had agreed. ‘Come on, Mummy,’ he’d said, ‘it’ll be fun. You can be on the sledge with me, that way you won’t be scared. I’ll look after you, I promise.’
Her heart had melted like the snow on his long lashes as he’d stared up at her. How had she and Arthur produced such a sweet and beautiful little boy?
Charles had been right; it had been fun racing down the slope, and even when they’d hit a bump and they’d both been thrown off the sledge, she had rolled over in the snow and laughed. She’d laughed and laughed, until her sides had ached. How free she had felt!
She smiled now as Ralph deliberately let Charles catch him up and then bombarded him with snow, making Charles yelp. Watching them play so happily together, Julia wished it could always be like this.
No Arthur.
That was what she meant. No Arthur telling her what to do and threatening to tell the police that she was the one who drove into Hope.
And no Miss Casey either, always looking down her nose at Julia, making her feel so insignificant.
Ralph had forced her to see her situation exactly for what it was. She was married to a man who couldn’t possibly love her, not when he kept her virtually as a prisoner, and was prepared to lie so she would be sent to prison.
Could there be another way to live, just as Ralph said? But how would she manage? How would she care for Charles the way she would want to? She had no money of her own. Not a penny.
Guiltily, and through the falling snow, she turned to look up at the house behind them, as though it could somehow read her mind and betray her to Arthur. At the top of the house, in one of the windows where Miss Casey had her suite of rooms – a bedroom with her own private sitting room and kitchenette – stood the woman herself. Her arms folded across her chest, she stared back at Julia. At this distance, Julia couldn’t make out her expression, but it was probably one of haughty disapproval.
‘Don’t let the old witch intimidate you,’ said Ralph, coming over to Julia. ‘Wave back at her with your cheeriest smile.’
To her amazement, Julia found herself doing as Ralph instructed and when Miss Casey stepped away from the window, she felt a small sense of triumph.
‘See,’ said Ralph. ‘Nothing to it. You just have to show her you’re not scared of her.’
‘Who was that you were waving to?’ asked Charles, joining them. ‘Was it Father?’
‘It was Miss Casey,’ said Julia.
‘I don’t like her very much,’ said Charles, wrinkling up his nose.
‘You’re a boy of discerning taste,’ said Ralph.
‘What does discerning mean?’
‘It means you have good taste and know a rotten apple when you see one.’
Julia frowned. ‘You mustn’t repeat what Ralph has just said, Charles.’
‘Why not?’
‘Your father wouldn’t like it.’
‘But Father’s not here.’
‘True. But he’ll be home soon.’
‘Maybe he’ll get stuck in the snow somewhere,’ said Ralph with a smile.
‘I hope he does,’ said Charles. ‘It’s a lot more fun without him.’
