Ghostly Stories by Celia Fremlin

Author:Celia Fremlin [Celia Fremlin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571356850
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2019-12-16T16:00:00+00:00

When I fell in love with Richard I was already twenty-eight, tall and angular, and a school-teacher into the bargain. So it seemed to me like a miracle that he, so handsome, gay and charming should love me in return and ask me to marry him. Our only difficulty was that my parents were both dead, and I was the sole support of my young sister, Angela. We talked it over, and decided to wait a year, until Angela had left school and could support herself.

But at the end of the year it appeared that Angela had set her heart on a musical career. Tearfully she begged me to see her through her first two years at college; after that, she was sure she could fend for herself.

Well, Richard was difficult this time, and I suppose one can hardly blame him. He accused me of caring more for my sister than for him, of making myself a doormat, and much else that I forget. But at last it was agreed to wait for the two years, and meantime to work and save for a home together.

And work and save we did. By the end of the two years we had bought a little house, and we spent our evenings decorating and putting finishing touches to it, just as Linda and John are doing now.

Then came another blow. Angela failed in her exams. Again I was caught up in the old conflict; Richard angry and obstinate, Angela tearful and beseeching me to give her one more chance, for only six months this time. Once again I agreed, stipulating that this time was really to be the last. To my surprise, after his first outburst, Richard became quite reasonable about it; and soon after that he was sent away on a series of business trips, so that we saw much less of each other.

Then, one afternoon at the end of May, not long before the six months were up, something happened. I was sitting on the lawn correcting exercises when Angela came out of the house and walked slowly towards me. I remember noticing how sweetly pretty she looked with her flaxen hair and big blue eyes—just like Linda’s now. The spring sunshine seemed to light up the delicacy of her too-pale skin, making it seem rare and lovely. She sat down on the grass beside me without speaking, and something in her silence made me lay down my pen.

“What is it, Angela?” I said. “Is anything the matter?”

She looked up at me then, her blue eyes full of childish defiance, and a sort of pride.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m going to have a baby.” She paused, looking me full in the face. “Richard’s baby.”

I didn’t say anything. I don’t even remember feeling anything. Even then, I suppose, I was a strong-minded person who did not allow her feelings to run away with her. Angela was still talking:

“And it’s no use blaming us, Madge.” She was saying. “What do you expect, after you’ve

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