Scandal in a Distinguished English Family
This is the end! Lydia Spencer carefully dabbed the corners of her eyes with a pearly white handkerchief, her sigh so heart-wrenching that her husband, Henry Spencer, was instantly alarmed.
Dear Lydia, what is it? Your drops?!”
Oh for heavens sake, Henry, will you forget your drops for once! Dont you see the scandal? The shame! Our whole familys name is ruined! Just look at her! She isnt the least bit repentant!
The Spencers only heir showed no sign whatsoever of remorse. She didnt cast ashes on her head, there was no dramatic wringing of the hands, nor a cascade of pearl-like tears.
Elizabeth Spencer sat on the porch, popping cherries into her mouth and lazily flicking the stones into the rose bushes, her long beautiful legs (that, her mother insisted, were exactly like her grandmothers, the acclaimed prima ballerina of Covent Garden) draped over the railings. Every time she sent another cherry stone flying, her mothers despairing sigh echoed across the garden.
Elizabeth! Stop that this instant! Whats come over you? We need to have a serious talk, yet here you arehonestlyjust look at yourself!
Lydia flustered her hands in outrage and swept inside, presumably to fetch her “drops” at last.
Lizzie, darling, you arent joking about this, are you? Henry peered at his daughter with hope, before following after his wife.
No, Dad, Im not joking. And do me a favour, let Mum know all her efforts at matchmaking are doomed. Im not marrying Max, not ever. She should drop the idea.
Youll break your mothers heart!
Dont exaggerate, Dad.
Perhaps youll reconsider?
I wont. I turned him down already. We talked things through, thats it. No wedding, Dad, even if you ask ten times.
Oh dear me
Wails from the drawing room set Henry rushing to his wifes aid. Lizzie merely sighed and helped herself to another cherry.
My goodness, what will I tell everyone?! This is horrendous! The restaurants been booked and all the invitations have gone out!
I never asked you to send them, Mum, Lizzie sang out calmly. That was your choiceso youll have to sort it out.
Thats cruel, my girl! I only ever wanted the best for you!
As always. And as usual, its not quite working out that way, is it? Sorry, Mum, but I have plans of my own for my life. What a trial for you, right?
Elizabeth! Lydias voice cracked as she fought back another sob. How dare you!
Nothing particularly outrageous, really, Lizzie said, clearing away the untouched tea cups before waving her mother off. Im perfectly capable of washing a few cups. And even without breaking them.
She marched to the kitchen. Lydia bitterly cast aside her handkerchief.
Shes just like your mother! she proclaimed to Henry. The same voice, even! Oh heavens, what did I do to deserve this?
Lydia had never taken to Henrys mother, the formidable Regina Spencer, at all. Lydia had married into the family as a mature woman, thinking her experience and wisdom deserved due respect. Unfortunately, Regina never got the memo. She saw no reason to change her ways or curb her tongue just because there was a new woman in the house.
Lydia, darling, what is that scent? Regina would murmur, surreptitiously blocking her nose whenever Lydia entered the room.
Its my new perfume! Dont you like it?
Im sure its lovely, in moderation. Why the whole bottle at once? A single drop on the wrist is plenty.
Lydia, who genuinely did have a habit of dousing herself in perfume, would pout and sulk.
What have I done to deserve this? shed moan to Henry. Why does she pick on me?
My love, Mum is like this with everyone. Its just her way.
Shed better adjust her ways, or I really cant be held responsible! And stop calling me darlingI cant stand it! Lydia would retort in annoyance.
Of course, Regina was not about to change a thing. Her sharp-witted, sometimes barbed remarks frequently put Lydias nose out of joint, causing tensions and even a chill between Henry and his mother, until the night at the theatre when Lydia was paid what she considered a backhanded compliment:
Lydia, youve truly blossomed into a lady. Thats what comes from being around Reginamy word, what taste! What style! Her very own double now!
Lydia bristled at the comparison but secretly thrilled at the praise. For, style icon though she was, Lydia had sense and knew how to draw the right conclusions, even if it irked her.
She kept her distance from Regina, managing polite civility. When Lizzie was born, Lydia forgot old grievances: Regina doted on her granddaughter and would have spent every waking hour with her, had the Spencers allowed.
Their rather artistic familybarring Lydia, the only dentistsettled into peace and quiet. Lizzie grew surrounded by care, with a grandmother and father who spoiled her and a mother who, though strict, only wanted the best for her child.
Lydia never spoke of her past. Even Henry knew only the bare bones and asked no questionshe realised early Lydia didnt want to go there, and for that she was thankful. Severing links with her old life, she focused on now.
She hadnt spoken to her own mother in years, for reasons she kept to herself. Hidden in the locket she wore from morning till night was a photograph of a beautiful, curly-haired boy. She could never bring herself to open it, but remembered perfectly: her son was just two when Lydias mother, trusted to watch young Peter while she dashed to the shop for milk, left him alone in the summer with windows open and the cot moved close by for a better breeze…
Losing her little boy had nearly destroyed Lydia. She couldnt eat, couldnt sleep, could barely think at all. She cursed herself for not having taken a year away from her studies. On that tragic day, shed been sitting an exam, and when she returned she realised her life had ended before it had really begun.
She divorced her husband soon aftertheir brief marriage ended, the birth of their child never having bonded them happily ever after as shed hopedand when the papers were signed, she packed a small suitcase and left her hometown forever. From the moment she was no longer a mother, Lydia felt ancient, as if all the pain in the world had already been through her and nothing living remained, only ash…
Or so she thought.
Then Henry walked into her dental practice one day, pressing his cheek in pain.
How long has this been going on?
A week or so, really.
For goodness sake, dont be such a child, Lydia said, rather sharply. Youre a grown man, arent you?
Youre right. Im hopeless at all this, Henry said, smiling through his pain.
There was something in that smile that quietened Lydia, and she became so flustered that she muddled up her instrumentsa first for her. Catching herself, she blushed so deeply Henry had to avert his gaze.
From then on, Henry would walk her home from work in silence, each understanding the other without a word. When Henry finally proposed, Lydia hesitated.
Im happy with you… but I dont know if I could make you happy in return.
Why not?
I dont want children.
Why?
Ill tell you, but not in detail, said Lydia, now composed and serious. After you hear my story, if you decide not to come back tomorrow, Ill understand. Discuss it with your mother if you likeI know youre close. Ask her advice.
But Henry did not go to his mother. He was grown, and Regina was never one to offer unwanted advice, not even to her only sonLydia was the lone exception, and even she only after marrying Henry. Regina would joke shed become thoroughly insufferable in retirement, a proper mother-in-law from the jokes. Of course, Regina was being playfullike all ex-ballet dancers, shed retired early, and by the time Henry brought Lydia to meet her and declared his intent to marry, Regina had been married and divorced twice herself.
Henry told his mother the whole story about Lydia. Regina, flicking cigarette ash into a fine porcelain cup, grew gloomier by the minute, but at the end of the story, she only asked:
Do you love her?
Yes.
Then why worry? Love, my boy, is a treasure not handed out to everyone. Whatever the price, its always worth paying. And rememberreal treasure is never weightless. Sometimes its so heavy youll think you cant carry it. But you will, if you value it properly.
You think so?
I know so.
With that, Henry brought Lydia to meet his mother, who offered her cheek for a kiss and swept her off to her dressmaker. Then, from a family heirloom chest, Regina dug out a little box.
These, Lydia, are the Spencer jewels.
Oh, I couldnt possibly
You absolutely must. Youre one of us now. And youll wear them, if you dont want to upset me. Choose whatever you like, but remember, these arent just trinkets. Wear them wisely.
How so?
My gran used to say it was poor taste to wear diamonds down the market. Unless youre in Brightonthen its de rigueur. Drives the fish mongers wild with envy, and theyll give you a discount.
To her surprise, Lydia found herself laughing, certain shed forgotten how.
Regina taught her, Lydia secretly grateful, even if she bristled outwardly. When Lydia found herself expecting, the first person she confided in wasnt Henry.
Youre looking a bit green, Lydia. Everything alright? Regina, just back from another trip with her latest husband, stopped in to check on her son.
Henry was out, and, unable to bear the questioning, Lydia rushed off to the bathroom. When she emerged, Regina had already worked it out.
Youll have the baby with Sophie. Shes a wonderful doctorits her Id trust. What are you so afraid of?
Im not sure I can bear it…
Lydia, Ive never spoken so plainly and I wont make a habit of it, but listen up. Dont be a fool. Thank your lucky stars and then get on with it. And dont you worryIll be there every step, as long as I can manage. Got it?
Yes… Thank you
Save your thanks for later. When I become a dreadful old bat and start nagging you endlessly, remember this thank you and say it again for my sake. Agreed?
Yes.
Good then!
Elizabeth Spencer arrived on time: healthy, loud, perfect. Regina welcomed her granddaughter on the stoop, pulled back the lace coverlet, and laughed.
Masterpiece! Well done, Lydia!
And she kept her word. No better support could be wished for. Known to everyone as either a ballet star or a society queen, Regina would come round, toss her designer coat aside, arm herself with a washing basin, grate old-fashioned laundry soap (insisting it was superior to powder), and wash the babys towels. Then shed bathe Lizzie, kiss her pink feet and croon just like every gran in England:
My little treasure, my perfect darlingmay you always be well!
Petty quarrels and spats were forgotten. Lydia finally found what shed longed for: family, a home, and a measure of peace.
She hadnt, of course, forgotten Peter. Twice a year, Henry would drive her back to her old town, though she never ventured into the city or saw her mother. Theyd stay in a B&B out in the countryside, with Lydia counting the minutes until they left, desperate to get it all over with.
This carried on year after year, until Lizzie was ten and Lydia received a letter from her mother. Only Regina ever saw the contents. Lydia showed it to her, seeking advice.
Go, Regina said. Youll never forget it; maybe youll never forgive, but shes still your mum. Remember the good bits. Talk to the mum you once knew when you were just a girl, like Lizzie. Nobodys an angelwe all make terrible mistakes, some of them impossible to fix. You, me, all of us. Im not saying you must instantly forgive everything. But I suspect this conversation isnt for her sake, its for yours. If you dont, youll never make your peace and Lizzie wont benefit from that. Im thinking of you, and of my granddaughter. Your mother is nothing to me, but whatever you choose, know that Im behind you. Think about it.
Next day, Lydia kissed Henry goodbye, dropped Lizzie at Reginas, and took the train to her hometown. Her encounter with her mother was brieflong enough only for her mother to squeeze her hand and whisper, Forgive me.
Lydia returned a few days later, and when she handed her daughter back, Regina nodded in approval.
Well done. The right choice.
At last, all should have been calm. The family was united, everything seemingly in its placebut Lydia still sensed no peace. Reginas words clung to her; old anxieties wove a sticky web that clouded her thoughts.
Fearirrational, suffocating, all-consuming. Even Henry noticed, urging her to calm.
Youre far too protective of Lizzie, sweetheart. Shes a big girl nowshe needs friends, hobbies, her own life. Familys all very well, but she cant just have us.
I dont follow you.
Im asking you to stop micromanaging every step Lizzie takes. She could use a little freedom.
Oh really? Lydia bristled, a cornered cat. You, saying that? Are you so careless about what happens to your own child?!
Of course not! Lydia, what are you on about?
What I see! Henry, its dangerous. Anything can happen! I couldnt bear it. Another loss would finish me.
But why must we lose her? Henry nearly shouted.
Because its possible! Anything can happen, anytime! Then whattears and insanity? Whos helped by that, eh? Have you even thought of that?
All Henry could do was throw up his hands. He loved his wife, but her fears cast shadows over the household.
He was lost until Regina stepped in again.
Put Lizzie in dance classes.
Why, Mum? Shes already drowning in clubs, lessons, tutors.
Toss them all! She needs dance. Partner dance.
Is that important?
Yes!
Alright then. Ill try.
So Lizzie found a new pursuit. And, with it, Max.
They paired her with the chubby, awkward Max, whose grandmother had brought him along to ballroom class. Let them muddle through together, both are late starters, wont amount to much, thought the adults, not realising Lizzie wasnt a wallflower.
Three years later, Max and Lizzie brought home their first trophy; soon they were regulars at every dance tournament.
Gone was the clumsy boyMax was now a tall, handsome lad looking condescendingly down at his slight partner, and even the judges were convinced there was a romance there.
Lizzie just smiled, never confirming nor denying, little knowing Lydia was quietly plotting her future years in advance.
She learned of it after her graduation.
Ive finally decided. Ill study medicine.
Lizzie, never one to struggle academically, had deliberated for ages to be sure about her profession.
My darling, wed rather thought you might have different plans, Lydia said, forcing a strange little smile that made Lizzie shiver.
What plans? I never said anything.
No, but youre hard to get a word out of sometimes. Ive spoken to Max and his parents, you know.
And?
We have three months to prepare. An autumn weddinghow beautiful! Ill chat with your grandmother, and perhaps through her connections we can find a lovely venue for the celebration.
A wedding? Lizzie narrowed her eyes. Who, exactly, is getting married? Max?
Oh you silly girl! Of course! Youre a perfect couple, on and off the dance floor! Isnt that wonderful?
You never thought to ask me first, I take it? Lizzie said coldly.
I thought it was all settled, darling.
Dont call me darling! Lizzie snapped, grabbing her bag and storming out, ignoring her mothers pleas. Only in the evening did Lydia discover her daughter was staying with Regina.
Regina didnt mince words.
Well, what did you expect? Lizzie isnt a doll. Did you think you could dress her in white and march her down the aisle? Please, Lydia, you used to be so clever! I hardly recognise you.
No need! Shes my child and I want whats best. Max loves her!
But does she love him? Regina smirked. Does what your daughter wants not matter to you?
I know whats best for her! She doesnt understand herself yet.
Oh, but she does. She wants to be a surgeona fine ambition, if you ask me. Whats your problem?
Everything! If she wants to study, fine, but first she should marry. Then I could relax!
And why is that? How would that help?
Oh, cant you see? Shed have a husband. Protection. Max is a lovely boy. Since they started dancing together, Ive slept better at night, knowing hed look after her.
I understand your concern, Regina nodded. But I dont understand why you want to put her in a gilded cage. Marriage by force is still a cage when its not her choiceand you know it.
This is pointless. The wedding will happen.
Well see, Regina said wryly. You badly misunderstand your daughters character.
And so Lizzie showed exactly who she was. After that confrontation on the porch, she packed her things and moved in with her grandmother, deeply wounding her mothersomething Lydia could not forgive. She refused to answer calls, never visited, and only learnt of her daughters triumphant university results from Henry.
Lydia, dont you think its time to let go of your anger? Is it really better to cry all night hugging her pillow than to hold your living, breathing daughter in your arms? Why this torment? Why the misery? Shouldnt you make peace? I visited yesterdayLizzie asked after you. She worries too.
Of course! As if she cares what happens to me.
Lydia! Henry, for the first time in their marriage, raised his voice. This is beyond reason! Your child is part of you. You wanted her so much! Whats changed, that you push her away so recklessly? Do you think I dont see your pain? Then tell me why! I honestly dont understand!
I dont understand either! Lydia suddenly cried. I dont know what to do! Ive made such a mess and havent a clue how to put it right… Youre right, Henry, I honestly cant breathe without her… It hurts so much, its always dark around me, as if theres no light at all. Just like after Peter…
Stop it, Lydia! Stop! Lizzie is alive! Shes waiting for you! Get ready!
But where? Why?
Im taking you to see her. Give up this idea that everything depends solely on you. Let your child live, not be this fragile rose youre so afraid of cracking that you lock her away behind seven locks and a concrete dome!
Perhaps it was anger or perhaps it was the realisation, but Lydia finally did as Henry asked.
Mother and daughter were reconciled. Whatever passed behind the closed door of Reginas bedroom, neither ever spoke of it, but Henry knew from their tear-stained noses and flushed cheeks that theyd found common ground.
But fate wasnt finished. Observing Lizzie march determinedly toward her dream, fate decided to add another twist, one even Regina couldnt help but ruefully smile at.
Miss Spencer, weve just admitted an acute appendix, came the call.
Right. Oh, wellnever dull is it? Im on my way.
Lizzie finished her coffee and headed for A&E. Her shift was nearly over, but she wasnt giving up the chance at an operationshe needed the practice!
You?!
Me Max tried a smile, but grimaced at the pain.
Alright then! You trust me?
With my life.
So calmly? No drama, no last words? Not a single nervous whinge?
Lizzie, youre a wally!
That I am
Three years later, Lizzie pushed open the garden gate at her childhood home, a little boy scampering ahead along the path to the front door.
Come on, show Granny how fast you are! Mum, catch him!”
Little Peter gave a delighted squeal and scampered into a pair of open arms.
My golden boy! How glad I am to see you!
Mum, hello! Granny at home?
Oh yes, Lydia chuckled, squeezing her grandson. Shes swanned off to Cornwall for a new romance!
Typical Granny! Who is it this time?
An artist, apparently. Or a sculptoror something of that sort. Dont ask me, shell tell you everything when shes back. Wheres Max?
Parking the car.
Lovely! The roast is almost ready, Dads just pulled a pie from the oven. Wash up and well eat! Ill tuck Peter in first, then come through.
Alright! But youll stay with him and sing songs, I know you!
And whats wrong with that? Lydia laughed, kissing her grandson.
Its perfect, Mum!As she watched Lizzie disappear into the house, Lydia drew little Peter close, breathing in the scent of sunshine and cut grass tangled in his hair. She smiled as his small hand gripped hers tightlytrustinglywithout a hint of fear. The house echoed with voices, alive with overlapping laughter, and the kitchen window burst open with a cloud of pie-scented steam. Henrys callOh for goodness sake, who left the door open? The ovens on!drew a chorus of giggles, even from Lizzie in the hallway.
Lydia lingered at the threshold, her heart light. She glanced up at the sky, blinking at the sudden, grateful sting of happy tears. The ache would always remainher memories made that certain. But in Peters bright curls, in Lizzies strength and Henrys patient hands, and most especially in her own fierce, imperfect love, Lydia saw that the cracks of heartbreak were now filled with gold.
Inside, Maxs voice rang out, Hey, what about a waltz before supper? To which Regina, freshly returned and trailing a swirl of silk and paintbrushes, declared with regal authority, Ill partner the winner!
Lydia laughed and let the door swing wide. She followed Peter inside, surrendering at last to the sweet, complicated music of her family, and the endless, whirling dance of forgiveness and joy.
