I didn't say anything.
"You think I'm wrong?"
"Not at all," I said with a smile. "I was thinking what a levelheaded woman you are and how lucky Alan is to have married you." I was also thinking of something that an educational psychologist had once written about Alan ... He should be encouraged to form strong and positive bonds with adults ... He needs to feel valued..."You've obviously been good for Danny as well ... He certainly talks about you very fondly." It was sincerely meant and her cheeks flushed pink with pleasure. "What about their sisters?" I asked. "Do you see much of them?"
This must have been a thornier subject because her frown promptly returned. "The last time we saw them was at Tansy's christening and that's three years ago now. Al said we'd give it one more try, so we invited them, and they promptly lammed into me and Al as per usual ... ruined poor little Tan's party ... and we thought, to hell with it, life's too short for this kind of aggro." She swept some breadcrumbs from the table into her cupped hand and I watched in fascination as the bangles rattled down to her wrist. "Al says it's jealousy because we're doing okay and they're not-one of them's got four kids and no bloke because he buggered off when she fell pregnant the last time-the other's got five kids by different dads and two of them are in care."
"Where do they live?"
"A big estate near Heathrow."
"Together?"
"Neighboring blocks. The kids run around in a gang and terrorize the old people living there. I hate to think how many police cautions they've had. Someone told me the other day that the council's planning to take out injunctions to force Sally and Pauline to keep them inside ... but I don't know if it's true. The worst thing is, they've been trying to get on the housing list here and I said to Al we'd have to move if it happened because there's no way I'm going to let Jason and Tansy get sucked into trouble by their cousins." She poured the tea and, like her mother-in-law, added milk automatically. "Al says it's not really his sisters' fault," she went on, passing me a cup, "not when you look at the kind of upbringing they had, but as I keep telling him, if that's true then he and Danny should be as bad."
She reminded me of Julia Charles, our neighbor in Graham Road, who had agonized in the same way about the terrible influence Alan Slater and Michael Percy would have on her children if she ever let them play in the street. They're such awful boys, she used to say, and it's not as though it's a "class" thing, or not really. It's their parents who're to blame. If their mothers spent more time with the kids and less time on their backs or on the bottle, then the kids would be better behaved. Everyone knew that.
"It sounds as if they've reversed their roles," I said slowly. "The two girls always seemed quite sensible when they were children. Either that or they were too terrified of their father to put a foot wrong. They used to follow in Alan's wake sometimes, but never further than the end of the road. They were both small and dark like their mother and Sally's the older of the two?" She nodded. "They were friendly with two other little girls of about the same age-Rosie and Bridget Spalding-and used to play hopscotch on the pavement. Bridget married Alan's friend, Michael Percy, and moved down to Bournemouth, but I've no idea what happened to Rosie." I raised a questioning eyebrow but Beth shook her head as she perched on the edge of a worktop and cradled her cup between her hands. "Al hasn't kept up with anyone from Graham Road," she said. "He goes to see his mother once in a while, but never for very long because it makes him so depressed. Left to himself, he wouldn't go at all ... but I keep saying, he has to set a good example to Jace and Tan ... I mean, I'd die if they never came to see me after they were grown." She had pale lashes and pale eyebrows, which gave her face a bland look until she screwed one of her many expressions onto it. Now she made a grimace of irritation. "She doesn't make it easy, though. All she ever does is complain about how lonely she is and how miserable she is. It's a vicious circle. If she put herself out to be pleasant, he'd probably drop in more often ... Instead, he delays as long as he can, then goes out of guilt."
"Do you and the children visit her?"
More grimacing. "We did till Jason found her Prozac and ended up in the hospital. I was that mad with her. It's not as though she needs the stupid things. Half the time she doesn't take them ... It's just a way of getting invalidity benefit so she can sit at home and watch the telly all day. I wouldn't mind so much if I hadn't asked her to keep them out of harm's way, but it's like talking to a brick wall. She smokes and drinks around Jace and Tan, takes no notice of what I might feel about it, then has the nerve to tell me she doesn't know what the fuss is about. 'It didn't do my kids any harm,' she says."
I laughed. "I used to get it about disposable nappies. I made the mistake of telling my mother what they cost and she lectured me for months about how I was wasting my money. 'What's wrong with terry toweling?' she kept saying ... 'If it was good enough for you, then it's good enough for your boys.' "
She sipped at her tea. "You don't like her much, do you?" The directness of the question took me aback, if only because it was something I never asked myself. "Rather more than you like Maureen, I suspect."
"Yes, but Maureen's not my mum," she said despondently. "It doesn't half worry me. I don't like falling out with people, but the way Alan's lot behave we won't be talking to any of them soon. I have nightmares sometimes that it's in the genes, and that my kids'll storm off after a huge row, and me and Al will never see them again."
"I'm sure that won't happen," I consoled her. "If behavior was inherited my two would have upped stumps and left long ago. But they're so laid-back it'll take a stick of dynamite to shift them. Either that or a stunning blonde with a Ferrari."
She eyed me thoughtfully. "Maybe they got their genes from their father," she suggested.
More likely their grandfather, I thought, while thinking it was hardly a good time to remind Beth of the genetic link between her children and Derek. "Except I agree with Alan that upbringing has more to do with it," I answered. "Jason and Tansy are the sum of their genes and experiences, not the sum of their genes alone, otherwise they'd be virtually indistinguishable from each other. You made the point yourself when you said how different Alan and Danny are from their sisters."
And how different Alan seemed now from the boy I once knew, I thought wryly.
"They're also very different from each other," she said. "Danny's a bit of a goer, but Al behaves like he was born middle-aged." She giggled and her face lit up immediately. "Jace said 'fuck' the other day because he heard it at nursery school and Al spent the next two hours worrying about whether it was his fault. I said, 'Don't be so fucking stupid...' Excuse my French ... And he said, 'It's all very well for you to laugh but the only time my dad showed me any attention was when he said, "Fuck off, bastard.'" And now he's hoping he is a bastard and Derek isn't his dad."
"I'd probably feel the same in his shoes," I said. "It's a bit like owning up to having Ivan the Terrible for a father."
She was agog with curiosity. "You said he threatened you. Why? What happened to make him angry?"
I was tempted to be honest, and not just because I liked her and felt guilty about using her. She was one of those rare people, irrespective of age, sex or background, whose straightforward, open personality demanded, and deserved, a reciprocal trust. Indeed, if I had any sadness at deceiving her, it was because I knew that in different circumstances I would be only too pleased to have her as an ally.