Chapter 16

Lucille once told me that it was a pity she and Neville had not met before their respective parents had warped his attitude and personality with their outlook on life, as she was sure that they could have been friends if the circumstances of their acquaintance had been different, as, with his athletic and social graces, appealing personality and self-confident style he could be very charming.

On arrival at his new post of responsibility he had organized cricket, soccer football and other sports events among his subordinates and the other males in the community, was an excellent dancer when free of the constraints of making an impression on the society of the capital and, cultivating the goodwill of the business community, had gained their financial sponsorship and support for both sporting and social activities.

Unfortunately, though, he had had the example of a father who was a male chauvinist long before the term had become a modern epithet, who ran his home on strict, authoritarian lines with father, son, mother, daughter being in descending order of significance. Browbeating his wife and daughter, who both lived in fear of him, he had coerced their agreement with him in matters serious or trivial, demanding their submission to his order of rule.  So it was that, in keeping with this system, Neville was privileged to exercise authority over his mother and sister.

Regrettably, too, he had been taught only to respect and emulate authority, and this proved the most damaging of all the traits with which he had been indoctrinated by his father, for it had closed his mind to new ideas coming from those below him in rank and status, creating the perfect colonial mentality – willing servant to its dictates.

With the example of such a father and the encouragement of Lucille’s mother, it was predictable that he would attempt to create a household on similar lines when he ventured into the marriage state. Furthermore, aiding and reinforcing his position was the additional authority as the highest officer of the law over a whole district.  Thus, he attempted to force Lucille into a mould in keeping with his father’s idea of a wife’s role, with the result that they were in constant opposition in private.

Lucille managed to control her tongue when others were present, which was most often the case; but, whenever they happened to be alone, she took the opportunity to express her opinions freely and to challenge many of his.

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As soon as they had settled into their physical surroundings, Neville began the practice of leaving the house about half-an-hour after supper on week-nights, sometimes returning as late as three in the morning.  If Lucille asked where he had been, his reply was that it was a requirement of his job that he know everything that was going on in the district and that he was not answerable to her but to his superiors.

His absence was no disturbance to her, as he usually slept in his own bedroom except on those rare nights when he exercised his husbandly privilege, which was usually on weekend nights after he had treated her to a social outing of some kind.

This routine continued for several months until one Sunday, after Church, as they sat in the parlour listening to music on the “Victrola” (phonograph), he had asked if she were doing anything to prevent pregnancy without his consent or agreement.

Lucille had been puzzled by the question, since, to her limited knowledge, this was the prerogative of the male, by means of a device known as a “prophylactic.”  Actually, she had heard of conflict between a wife, who wanted a second child, and her husband who, distressed by her ill-health during her first pregnancy, was reluctant to cooperate.

So mystified had she been that it had even occurred to her that he might be accusing her of practicing necromancy; and in a moment of recklessness Lucille had flippantly remarked that had she known any obeah she would not be where she was at present.  He had insisted that then something must be wrong with her, as he knew himself to be capable.  This remark sparking a cross and counter cross examination, had ended with his admission that he had left two daughters by two different mothers behind in the capital.

To digress a little, in our type of society where the ratio of marriageable males to females favoured males overwhelmingly, with, consequently, strong rivalry among females, underhand methods to undermine eligibility (both male and female) prevailed.  Rumours that young men had fathered children out of wedlock or that young women could not have children could sometimes have both positive and negative consequences. Men fathering children might indicate extreme virility, which seemed to appeal to more adventurous women, or discourage others on the grounds of immorality. There was no way of predicting whether or not a woman could have children, but that would not prevent a rival from applying the malicious label of “mule” to her, since the society set such store by the ability to procreate.  The question of reproduction was regarded of such importance that precedence of a fertile sweetheart over an unproductive spouse was very common, marriages even deteriorating into matches between opposing rivals for the husband’s attention.

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Now that the rumours surfacing during the engagement were confirmed by Neville himself, Lucille had lost no time in asking the question uppermost in her mind.  She had had the strong suspicion all along that her mother had known about this piece of his history, but, in her desire to rid herself of her troublesome daughter, had chosen to ignore it.  She had therefore asked Neville why he had married her and not one of these young women.

His frank reply had been that three points had favoured his choice of her as his wife, which were that he knew that there had been no one before him, that she was from a decent family and, lastly, her mother had been in favour of the match.

Since frankness was in the air, she had said, what then had disqualified either of the mothers of his two daughters from becoming his wife?  His arrogant reply had been to the effect that they were weak women, too easy!  Her question as to what would save either of his two daughters from becoming weak and easy women when they grew up, had been met with his abrupt advice not to concern herself with things that were not her business, but with getting pregnant, which was, and to pray to God for a son!

Lucille said that she hadn’t known what had made her speak to him as she had, but she had been so affronted and repulsed by the way her mother and he had so callously and contemptuously decided her fate that she had had to strike back at them, even when she knew it was too late for anything to change.

She had coolly expressed the opinion that going into a marriage with the advance knowledge that she had two stepdaughters was her business; and, furthermore, she would never be so presumptuous as to make any special request of God, but would be satisfied with whatever He chose to bless her.  If it were a son, she would teach him not to take advantage of weak and easy women; and if a daughter, she wouldn’t be like her mother and turn her over to a man like her father.

She said that his reaction to her remark had been immediate and unexpected.  She had heard his voice saying, “You will have to learn not to tell me just anything that comes to your mouth,” at the same time that she had felt the sting of the slap across her face!

I had asked Lucille why she had spoken so rashly, knowing her husband’s reputation, and I’ll let you hear her answer in her own words:

“Neville and I usually conversed frankly when no one else was around.  If I had anticipated such a reaction I would have moved out of his reach, which is what I usually did when I spoke frankly to my mother at home.  Whenever I was “cheeky,” as my mother called it, she would pinch me hard; so I learnt to get out of her way right after having my say about anything.  But I never thought the man would assault me, so I was caught completely off guard.

“After I recovered a little I told him as calmly as I could that he would regret what he had done; and was tempted to make a big fuss and  call him a few choice names, but realized by then that I was on slippery ground, so I had held my peace.  He had asked if I was threatening him, but I had the sense to answer that I wasn’t. He had said then that I was smart to leave it at that, adding that my mother had told him how I liked to give trouble, but that he had let her know that he could easily take care of any trouble I would try to give him.

“At this I couldn’t resist asking if he was sweating my mother’s fever, after backing up a good distance from him.  You know how I am; once I get started it takes a lot to shut me down!  I said to him that as a lawman he should know that there are two sides to every story and that he should not be satisfied with acting on only one.  I let him know that my mother’s idea of trouble was being told the truth, and left that hanging for a while.  When he had said nothing for a long time I picked myself up and went to the bedroom, closing but not locking the door behind me.

“After a while he followed me there, knocking quietly before entering.  Some time before we had had words about this when he had told me to leave it unlocked always as, being my husband, it was his right to enter whenever he wished.  At the time I had agreed as to his rights, but that it would be mannerly to knock first, since I might be changing my clothes or be otherwise indisposed.

“He had  stood still studying me for several minutes while I stared back at him trying to figure out what was coming next, then had said: ‘Look Lucille, maybe I shouldn’t have slapped you,’ which I had interrupted with: ‘There’s no MAYBE about that.’

“He had continued with a lot of palabras (Spanish for “words”) about how we were in the marriage together, could not turn back now, so it was better to make the best of a difficult situation; that he and I had had a different kind of upbringing but should try to meet each other halfway.  As a woman I should be milder in my speech and he would try not to be so hasty.  He accused me of having a sharp tongue, but that he would not tolerate me speaking disrespectfully as he had a position to uphold and that I should not keep pulling him down, questioning his every action, ending that I should try to be more civil when something was not to my liking and he would try to be more considerate.  He had nearly spoiled the calm we had both achieved by asserting at the end that he didn’t put up with foolishness – that was not his way –and I would have to adjust to that.

“After laying down this ultimatum he had said good-night and turned to leave the room without giving me a chance to respond. But the Lucille you know could not leave things like that and I had asked him outright if now that he had had his say he didn’t expect to hear my answer?

“I didn’t wait but rushed headlong into the reasons why my mother and I had never got along, which was that she always tried to stifle me, behaving as if only my brothers, being male, had any sense and that I didn’t count.  As a child I would not stand for that; and now I was adult and out of her house I would not allow myself to be treated that way any longer.

“He had been offended by what I had said and had taken the liberty of assaulting me.  Suppose I had reacted to what he had said in the same way, I had asked him.  But I told him that I would not be so stupid as to resort to violence, knowing I could not match his physical strength; and challenged him if as an officer of the law he wasn’t duty-bound not to use that against me?  Finally, I agreed that I should be more careful in my speech in future, but that he should make a similar effort also; and was surprised when all he did was nod his head and leave the room, closing the door behind him.

“I thought back to schooldays, when Miss Weston would shake her head at me and say: ’You have a good heart, Lucille Hendricks, but you have to learn that you can’t regulate the world all by yourself!’  But, I had thought to myself, I would never allow anybody to take advantage of me and get away with it either!”

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Lucille said that after this episode she had kept to herself for some time after, only speaking to Neville when absolutely necessary and spending as little time in his company as possible, making sure to perform all that was expected of her and keeping out of his way the rest of the time.  Everyone had noticed that something was wrong between them, but nobody had been bold enough to ask any questions or make any comment.

There had been a slight swelling on the area of the face where she had received the blow, lasting a little more than a week; but she had worn a wide hat to Church the next Sunday to hide it; and when the service was over had sat on a bench under a large tree in the churchyard while he had spoken to the priest about some official matter.  While she had waited she had taken the opportunity offered by the calm surroundings to take stock of her situation and possibly think through to ways of coping.

After a while enjoying the quiet beauty of the churchyard, to her surprise she had heard the low voice of the sexton observing that she seemed to have so much on her mind that she wasn’t noticing her husband calling to her; and had recognized the Maya who had helped her with her luggage at the wharf the day they had arrived.

She had found out that he was one of the few of this ethnic group who was Anglican, and had been raised up to the age of ten in the home of the well-known priest who had served the Anglican diocese for over twenty years, spending time in each district before ending up in the south, thereafter returning home to the U.K. at the age of fifty-five.

Reverend Caleb Simpson was beloved and well-spoken of all over the country.  Stories about him were many and bore testimony to a kind, generous and truly Christian spirit.  The most famous was the humorous tale about the time he had lived on the popular vacation peninsula, where he had indulged his passion for fishing by buying a sailing dory and going out in it whenever the weather allowed.  All the villagers knew his craft, a humble vessel which he willingly loaned out on many occasions to one or another of the village’s inhabitants.  He kept two paddles for use when there was no wind and when the weather was rough he would haul it up on shore with the rest of the villagers’ dories.

It happened that on one occasion two fishermen from a northern village got into trouble with the law and ran away down south. Passing the village where Reverend Simpson lived, they ran out of cash to pay their way further and decided to take one of the dories hauled up on the beach to continue their getaway.  The village policeman investigating the theft discovered that the missing vessel was Reverend Simpson’s, and reported his reaction when informed.  “Hear whe de man say? ‘Those poor fellows!  You notice they left the paddles behind?  I wonder how they will manage if they get rough weather or it drops calm?’

It is said that this is the incident which gave rise to the saying – “Be like Parson Simpson!’ when anyone is being urged to be generous and forgiving.   Because he was so well-loved and admired everyone took an interest in his welfare and this time the dory showed up a few weeks later when a fisherman returned it, having retrieved it from where it had been abandoned at a village further down the coast when the fugitives had got a passage to one of the neighbouring republics.

ooo0ooo

Abelino Choc’s father had died at age sixteen a few months after his mother, at age fifteen, had given birth to him, their first and only child.  Reverend Simpson and his wife had visited their village soon afterwards and, touched by the condition of the young mother and child, had brought them to town to live with them.

The Simpsons’ dwelling was a one-bedroom wooden house on stilts provided by the diocese; and the addition of two more occupants to the already small space had made for very cramped living conditions.  Fortunately, a very generous congregant of their parish had made a gift of money to the Simpsons for the purpose of expanding the living space by boarding in the ground floor to make room for the mother and child, who soon moved into their own quarters.

Mother and son lived with the Simpsons like family, who provided their needs in exchange for housekeeping services of the mother. Abel was treated like a son by Mrs. Simpson, who had no children and taught him at home until he went to school at six years.  He was quick and attentive and went straight to Standard 1, reaching Standard 5 by the time he was ten years old and the Simpsons returned to the UK after making a gift of an acre of land to Abelino and his mother two miles westward of what was then the town limits and on the road into the interior not far from their village of origin.

They had also left a modest sum at the government treasury for the mother and arranged with the Chief Clerk (Eric Coburn, also Treasurer of the Parish), for a monthly stipend to be paid to her until it was depleted, by which time it was expected that the son would be old enough to care for her.  This had been a sacrificial offering from their limited private resources, since the diocese could not afford it.

The diocesan authorities allowed Abel and his mother to continue to live in the quarters that Reverend Simpson had built for their use until they could find somewhere else to stay, in compensation for which he kept the churchyard clean and acted as sexton.

By the time Lucille went to live in the town Abel had long become a working man and had saved enough to build a small wooden hut on the land given to them by the Simpsons.  They had moved there a few years before his mother had passed away and he now lived there alone, continuing to serve the parish as sexton on an honorary basis.

Everyone in the town, regardless of denomination, had only good things to say about Abel.  He maintained the church building and its surroundings in first-class condition, planting and tending shrubbery, flowers and trees, providing free labour for all repairs to the building and its attachments, was kind and helpful to the parishioners regardless of age or circumstances, and was a source of goodwill to all.

He was contracted informally to clean the yards of most citizens who could afford it, in addition to all government properties such as the Police, Health and Public Buildings and the grounds of the District Commissioner’s residence; and those who had known Rev. Simpson remarked on how closely he had followed in his footsteps with regard to Christian action.

Lucille said how she had sat on that bench in the churchyard on many occasions afterwards, conversing easily with the sexton while other parishioners came and went, interrupting from time to time to ask “Mr. Lino”  for help with some problem or for some plant or flower.  He never made anybody feel they were intruding on his time, even though everyone knew he was not being paid for his services to the parish.

On Sundays it was the practice of parishioners to spend a good portion of the morning after services socializing with each other, discussing or planning activities for the next week while the children played in the churchyard.  The priest would sometimes give informal Bible classes when someone asked questions about his sermon, and Lucille would participate in this activity, being curious from childhood about how to relate the church’s teachings to everyday life.

She learnt that during the week Abel cultivated a small part of a twenty-five acre plot of land just outside his village of origin about five miles from his hut or seven from the town.  This had been part of a pending government project for the formation of a cooperative undertaking within the village, which had involved the parcelling out of twenty-five acre plots on a leasehold basis to the villagers.  It had never come to fruition, however, so the individuals who had been paying their leases through the years had been promised title to their plots after making annual payments for a fixed number of years.

On weekdays he woke at four every morning, prepared his food, then walked to his plot where he worked all day, returning in the evening; on Saturdays making the rounds of cleaning yards throughout the day, then spending Sundays all day at the churchyard participating in the services and all other activities.

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Not long after what Lucille always referred to as “the assault,” a young Englishman came to fill the newly created post of Administrative Assistant to the District Commissioner, bringing with him his local white wife, whom Lucille knew well, having attended secondary school together at the same college (high school).

Mrs. Andrew Stevens was a vivacious and attractive young woman who liked parties and social events and had spent most of her time since leaving school engaging in such activities at the exclusive expatriates club in the capital; and tried to create a tiny elite of the town comprised of senior civil servants in the various government departments, as well as local people and families of some prominence, in which she tried to infuse a spirit of gaiety and light-heartedness, resulting in a variety of social functions originating from the District Commissioner’s office.

The Station Sergeant and his wife were among those invited to many of these functions and Shirley Stevens seemed to be making an effort to extend her acquaintance with Lucille into friendship.  Always sociable, Neville Enright became popular in this milieu, while his wife participated somewhat half-heartedly.

Life had proceeded on an even keel for some time after the assault, and Neville, without ever apologizing, had tried to restore civility between them by treating her with respectful courtesy.  He did not go out every weeknight as before but arranged his schedule to spend at least one with his wife and very gradually they had achieved a relationship comfortable enough for them to converse as they used to before the incident although, in Lucille’s case, in a guarded manner.  They had even touched on the subject of his children left behind in the capital, Neville mentioning that he maintained contact with them through his parents, whom they visited regularly.

By the time the holiday season had come around they were in the seventh month of their marriage and, after the midnight service on Christmas Eve, Neville had spent the night and the rest of the holiday nights in their bedroom.  Seemingly mellowed by the good cheer of the season, his behaviour was relaxed and even friendly, and they had entered the New Year on a pleasant and hopeful note.

Ten months after their marriage rumours started going around the town about the Station Sergeant’s friendships with two different women and reached Lucille’s ears just when she had found out that she was pregnant. She had missed her period in January and in February of the new year, but had delayed seeing the doctor at the government clinic until March, when it was confirmed that she was “in the family way,” as it is described in the local idiom.

Neville was pleased about the news, but when she had also referred to the rumour had dismissed it by saying that people were always concocting stories about him, to which she should pay no attention.

He had become more considerate in their moments of intimacy, which were more frequent than before; and arranged with Mrs. Atkins, who was busy as always, to have his wife come to see her about clothes for herself and the baby.  This had pleased Lucille particularly, as it had given her the chance to discuss with someone knowledgeable the making of the layette for the baby, which she intended to use her father’s gift to prepare by herself.

Neville had cooperated fully with this effort, sending a member of his staff to build a table to accommodate her (hand) sewing machine, and stocking it with thread and other materials needed to get the project operational.

Lucille had confided that those were really the only happy times since the wedding ceremony, and she had spent many days planning and making garments, sheets, etc., observing the stipulation from Neville that no pink trimming be used anywhere.  She had solved this problem by sticking to pastel shades of green and yellow, avoiding both pink and blue to be on the safe side.

According to her, she had experienced no morning sickness or physical discomforts of any kind during the pregnancy, yet she had had a foreboding throughout that either something was wrong or would go wrong that she just could not shake off.  She had tried to keep her mind free of worry but could never quell the suspicion that there was some truth to the story about Neville’s infidelity.

When she had been about four weeks from delivery the couple had attended the celebration of some Royal event, which had included a service at the Anglican Church during the afternoon, open to the public, followed by a social evening on the grounds of the District Commissioner’s residence afterwards, which was by invitation.

During the service, at which Neville had worn uniform, she had sensed edginess in his behaviour as she stood next to him in one of the front pews. She knew her husband well enough to have known that whatever was troubling him was inside the building, but that he would never make a move to investigate while in uniform.  After a while she had decided to satisfy her curiosity and, turning her head at a slight angle had glanced around casually when something yellow about five rows behind had caught her eye.  It was being worn by a young woman she could only see from the chest up but recognized the pattern of the material to be the yellow version of the pink she herself was wearing.  At that moment a sixth sense told her that there was a link between her husband’s uneasiness and the woman’s presence, and had turned to him and whispered: “She is here, if that is your worry.”

Noticing his face tighten, she knew with sickening distress that she had hit her mark and waited with dread for the end of the service to see what would develop.  On the alert now, she detected as the congregation filed out at the last strain of the organ’s music that Corporal Miguel, Neville’s second in command, had caught up with and steered the woman to the side away from most of the people who, like she and Neville, were walking towards the District Commissioner’s compound nearby.

Once inside she and Neville had been separated and she had ended up sitting with a group of ladies near a table with refreshments.  While she had toyed absentmindedly with some food on a plate handed to her by a waiter, Shirley Stevens had come over and, taking her by the arm, had been trying to steer her toward someone she wanted her to meet for some reason.  On their way she had caught sight of Neville standing near the fence close to a palm tree talking angrily with the woman in the yellow dress and had realized, with a shock, that she was also pregnant!

The discovery had brought on an instant and splitting headache and, staring in their direction, she had seen him jerk his head towards the gate (as if indicating that the woman should leave), then stalk towards Corporal Miguel together with whom he had moved in another direction away from her.

While she was in the company of the group towards which Shirley Stevens had steered her, it had suddenly occurred to her that she had been deliberately maneuvered away from the scene someone had probably feared might have led to unpleasantness; and a wave of humiliation had overcome her at the thought of having become an object of pity over something to which others were privy but of which she had been ignorant.

Agitated, she had tried to figure out what her next move should be when Shirley had started admiring her dress and enquiring where it had been obtained. For her this had been the last straw, reminding her as it did of the similarity of the pattern worn by herself and the woman in yellow, so she had stood up and, collecting her purse, had referred her to the Station Sergeant who dealt with such matters, and, saying goodbye, had left the group abruptly.

Walking towards the gate she had been confronted by Neville, still in the company of Corporal Miguel, standing in her path.  She had asked to be excused so she could pass, but he had stood his ground and asked if she would like him to take her home; but the only words she could manage were: “All I would like you to do for me is move out of my way.”  Mercifully, he had stood aside, allowing her to walk quickly through the gate and hurry home.

It was not until she had reached the veranda upstairs that she had realized she did not have a key to open the front door; and, in a disoriented state, had hastily turned around and hurried downstairs, attempting to reach the back stairs by way of planks put on the ground to cover the earth damp with rain from the night before.  In her upset state she had tread carelessly and slipping on one of the planks had lost her balance and fallen to the ground. At the sound Cook had come out of her room, found her there and helped her up.

She had been assisted up the back stairs by her and led to her bedroom, where she had eased into the rocking chair near the window, distraught and breathing hard.  Noticing a stain near her skirt tail, Cook had discovered on closer examination that it was blood and, acting quickly, had called her daughter and the yard-boy, sending one for the midwife and the other for the Station Sergeant.

Neville had arrived along with a constable at the same time as the midwife, Nurse Spence, who, taking matters in hand, had undressed Lucille and put her to lie down on the bed she had quickly spread with rubber sheeting underneath one of cotton. Indecisive in unfamiliar territory, Neville had asked the midwife what he should do next, and had followed her advice to go for the doctor.  He and the constable had hurried over to the government clinic only to find that the doctor had left for the day, to attend the function at the District Commissioner’s as they had correctly surmised, and finding him there, had persuaded him to accompany them.  Their arrival had been followed by hasty activity by doctor and midwife on the patient behind closed doors and, after what seemed like a lifetime, the haggard police officer had finally been given the tragic news that his wife had miscarried their son.

ooo0ooo

Even after the length of time that had elapsed since the loss of the baby, and this had been many years later, Lucille had been reluctant to say much about it except that it was the kind of experience that stayed with you for the rest of your life, mentioning also, with deep appreciation, the kindness and generosity of people like Miss Gladys the cook, her daughter, and the yard-boy who had served in the household so selflessly during that painful period of her life.  She remembered with guilt being so preoccupied with her own grief that she had taken them for granted and had been unconcerned with the welfare of people who had worked around the clock to make her life comfortable since the day of her arrival in the town.

Only later had she learnt something about their history: that Cook’s name was Gladys Slattery and she had spent all her adult life in domestic service.  Her daughter and only child’s name was Ann Welch,  the only gift from her father having been her surname, and together they had been lucky to find steady employment in the government service, looking after whomever filled the post of head of the Police Department in the district. The yard-boy’s name was Kent Michael, did not know his father, and his mother had left him at a Roman Catholic convent in one of the northern districts and vanished.

The nuns had cared for him until he had left at the age of ten to work as handyman on one of the passenger boats travelling along the coast between the towns, ending up in the capital of the southern district, where he had been befriended by Miss Gladys, who had got him his present job.

They had little to call their own, really living from hand to mouth with no prospects of a better future; yet Lucille had been able to count on them for such kindness and companionship that she had come to regard them as family in a way she never had been able to think of her own mother.

Neville had been hardest hit by the loss, and although it was not customary to christen a stillborn child, had named him after his father, persuading the priest to recite the prayers over his body and burying him immediately after while she was still in bed convalescing.

Neither of them had ever spoken to the other about the baby; but she had found out that the yellow dress woman, as she thought of her, had delivered Neville’s third daughter not long after her miscarriage.

ooo0ooo

Lucille confided that for a long time she had grieved over the baby’s absence from her life.  Events had happened so quickly that he had not even been shown to her before he was taken away; and she had been left with a strong feeling of rejection, as if the little soul had avoided making her acquaintance. She had blamed herself for what had happened, yet had known that she could not have done anything differently.  She had asked God over and over exactly where she had gone wrong and how she could move forward from the frozen place in which she had found herself.

Abel was the one who had helped her most in putting things into perspective, without ever mentioning specifics since he knew no details.  Alone as he was at the time, without mother, father, siblings or close relatives, yet he had been completely selfless in his compassion and concern for her welfare.  By just speaking generally about difficulties people faced daily he had helped her to be courageous enough to accept the fact that pride had been responsible for her reaction to the incident at the District Commissioner’s function and the resulting tragedy.  She had withdrawn hastily from the scene of her humiliation, careless of the effect on anyone else, including her baby.  She had been proud and selfish and had brought the terrible punishment on herself as well as on Neville.

She had taken courage from Abel’s selflessness in the face of his own lonely existence and, following his example, had turned her attention to helping the members of the staff who served with such quiet efficiency.  Neville was not an easy person to please, being a perfectionist who demanded as much of them as of himself, but was more difficult in his state of grieving, and she became somewhat of a buffer between him and them, giving praise and encouragement, even consolation at times, when he was harsher than usual.

ooo0ooo

One day, several months after the baby’s death, Neville, who had not entered their bedroom since then, had asked her casually at supper if she thought herself well enough to resume marital relations, and being as well as she ever expected to, be had nodded, curious about the suddenness of the question, and told me that she had never brought up the topic of the episode but had kept everything bottled inside.  It might have surprised people to know that even after all the difficulties between them she had still felt a deep compassion for the man whose priority in life had been trying to live up to his father’s expectations and who, besides his terrible loss, was suffering at what he deemed to be his failure.

ooo0ooo

Mr. Basil Enright had worked all his life as clerk in a prominent lawyer’s office, on the way acquiring a profound understanding of the law and its practice.  Unable to afford a legal education for his son he had influenced him to join the Police Force and had encouraged, advised and coached him in legal procedures until he had become an outstanding prosecutor in the Magistrate’s court, very rarely losing a case for the Crown.

In return, Neville had put his father on a pedestal and tried to emulate him in every way.  Urged now by a letter he had received from him coaxing his emergence from despondency and inspiring him to resume his ambitious course, he had decided to make another attempt at fathering a son.

He had told Lucille about his letter, from which she had realized that it had been his father who had been his inspiration to emerge from the gloom that had overtaken him since the death of their son.

(Chapter 17 in next Tuesday’s Amandala.)