A Difficult Person

Difficult Man

For heavens sake, George! Youre such a difficult man! Everythings a struggle with you! Why cant you just do what I ask for once?

The woman scolding her husband was stunningno, dazzling. Long, elegant legs, deep blue eyes, and a figure so perfectly balanced that men turned their heads as she strode down the leafy walkways beside the hotel in Bath.

Her husband sat in sharp contrast: almost a head shorter, built like a barrel, with lengthy arms, stubby legs, and a balding head. But his eyeskeen and warmwere remarkable. He seemed to see right through people, and that made their odd pairing all the more noticeable: the temperamental beauty and the man who understood everything about her.

They were like Hephaestus and Aphrodite, except George rarely gripped a hammerinstead, he almost always carried their little daughter.

The child, ginger-haired and wild with energy, was the unmistakable image of her father, with only her mothers blue eyes and stunning copper hair as her maternal inheritance. She was a handful of bouncing curls, and her mother didnt bother taming them. Five-year-old Harriet dashed through the hotel like a bolt of auburn lightning, her father hurrying to keep up.

Christina, if you want the tour so much, go. I just think Harriet is too young for all thatlong trip, heatits too much. Shell get fussy and in the end youll have no fun, you know that, George pleaded.

Thats what youre here for, isnt it? George, I specifically wanted to come with my husband! I cant take a step in this place without some fool approaching me. Honestly, does it not bother you at all? Do you not care?

Christinas voice rose, sharp as glass. Harriet buried her face into her fathers neck, clinging to him.

Oh, darling, Im dreadfully jealous! George offered an abbreviated smile, stroking Harriets curls. Why dont we come up with something else? A trip down the Avon on a boat? Or a spot of diving? What would you like?

I want to see Stonehenge. Christina snapped and turned away. Fine, dont come! Ill go alone!

She staged her dramatic exit flawlessly. All George could do was shrug as Christina stormed away, toward the pool, already forgetting him and their child.

But he was used to her by now. Their marriage was not so different from many in their social circle: he, wealthy and always busy; she, beautiful, young, living to be admired.

How George ended up among Baths fashionable husbands, even he couldnt say. Hed never had much luck with womenlooks had nothing to do with it. He simply failed to connect with women who werent colleagues or business partners. In business, he could manage: gallant enough, polite, an excellent wit. But if he fell in love, he became tongue-tied, awkwardclumsy with his hands and unsure of himself. He eventually gave up trying for a personal life, throwing himself instead into work, regular visits to his mothers cottage in the Cotswolds, and resigning himself to bachelorhood.

Brief affairs not for love, but for healths sake, as his mother quipped, only slightly relieved his solitude.

Life would have gone on like that had his mother, Vanessa Powell, not decided it was time he married and had children.

George, Ive admired you enough. Youre never going to sort yourself out! We need a matchmaker!

A what?! George spluttered his tea, spilling half of it across his new jacket on the veranda of her rambling house.

Youve ruined a perfectly nice jacket, Vanessa mused, eyeing her son. Georgie, youre a wonderful manclever, well-mannered, successfulbut who does that really help, apart from me? No one! Thats not right. Youve accomplished things people your age would barely dare to dream about, and yet youre not happy. I see how you look at Marinas children. My cousin is hopeless, but shes a marvellous motherand I adore her little ones. Still, I long to rock my own grandchild. Or rather, I long for you to hold your own childyoud finally know joy. Your father and I saw no greater happiness than having you. All this around us, Vanessa gestured at her garden, is nothing. A house stands, then falls. Only life is truly lastingbecause theres mind, and memory, and love. Do you understand me?

I do, Mum. But whats that got to do with a matchmaker?

“Everything! Youll never find someone yourselfyou simply cant, and Ive no choice but to be blunt. I never shielded you from the truth: you dont know how to talk to women, my fault perhaps. But that, my dear, is on me to fix. And since Im no expert, well leave it up to the professionals. Come onpick up that pad and start writing.

What?

Anything! Describe the woman you want at your side.

Oh, Mum, dont be ridiculous

Its not ridiculous at all! Give it here, Ill do it. Right, what colour are her eyes?

They sat and talked long after sunset. George answered her questions as best he could, knowing she wouldnt let it rest. She coaxed out secrets and dreams he didnt even know he had. When he finally read what shed written, he could just shake his head.

No such woman exists.

Well see! Vanessa said, snatching the page away.

She did find him a bride. Christina was just as hed describedphysically, anyway. The rest, well, turned out to be something to uncover during marriage.

George quickly realised their union was nothing more than a contract. And as time went by, he found theirs was not an unusual arrangement. Christina had no intention of staying home to bake piesno interest in anything but herself. In the large country house George bought after the wedding, she insisted on having her own room, claiming his snoring made sleep impossible. Whether or not he snored, George never knewor cared. For Christina, hed have done anything.

She wasnt keen to have children, either. But understanding that a child was also part of the bargain, she asked George for a few more years.

Im young, I want to see the world before I settle down. Youll make that happen, wont you, darling?

George agreed. They travelled, mixed with friends, and quietly tolerated each other.

Harriets birth brought a brief truce. George was entirely smitten and spent every evening with his daughter. He was disappointed Christina was a tepid mother.

I wont breastfeed! Mess up my figure just to fix it with surgery later? Not a chance. Find a nanny or give her formulaloads of children grow up just fine that way. Your mother said you did, and look how well you turned out! I genuinely dont see the problem.

Neither George nor Christinas mother, Barbara, could change her mind. So Harriet contentedly sucked from her bottle, and George went in search of a nanny.

Ill go mad sitting in these four walls all day with a screaming child! Youre off at work, busywhat about me, left here alone? Ill become depressed! Christina moaned.

George welcomed Barbaras offer to help, and for the first time, stood firm with his wife.

Why do I need your mother here?! Shell just boss me about! Is this your idea of help, George? How can you be so impossible? Dont you love me at all?

I do. But I love our child as welland you barely go near her. Let her at least have someone else who loves her, besides just me.

Christina truly had little interest in Harriet, providing only the best toys, lavish clothes, and a perfectly arranged nursery to show off. In reality, Harriets cot stood in Georges room, alongside her dresser and toy chest. She spent nearly every moment with her father or grandmothershe knew thats where she was wanted.

I love her! In the only way I know how! For the first time since their wedding, Christina truly wept, but George would not comfort her.

Your mother stays. Shell look after Harriet when Im at work. If you decide you want to be a real mother, then well discuss it. For now, its how it is.

Christina, having weighed her options, chose a fragile peace; her mothers presence granted her all the freedom she craved.

Barbara moved in, and for Harriet, she became a second universe after her father. She put up with protocol visits to her mother, then tore off to find George or Barbaranever doubting their love.

That was how they lived. As Harriet grew, she went to ballet class, then a private nursery school where Barbara took her each morning. Travelling with her parents became routinehotels and flights no longer fazed her, as her father made her feel welcome everywhere.

This particular trip was uneventful until Harriet suddenly developed a fever and complained of a headache.

Well, thats the holiday ruined! complained Christina, pacing the hotel room in anticipation of the doctor George had summoned.

What are you on about, Christina? Our daughter is ill! George snapped.

Its just a childs cold! You shouldnt have let her eat ice cream, but as usual, you gave in to her every whim. Father of the year, honestly! Now what?

Now we wait for the doctor.

At that, even Christina quietened, startled by Georges steel.

Fine. No need to make a scene.

The doctor found nothing serious.

Shes overtireda bit of rest and shell be right as rain.

George nodded, but as soon as the doctor left, he turned to Christina.

Were going home.

Why? The doctor said shes fine! Christina wailed, on the brink of tears.

Its not righta five-year-old shouldnt get headaches like that. She can tell us when somethings wrong, and Im not willing to risk it. No arguments. Pack upwere leaving.

Further tests in London proved George right. Life came to a stuttering halt.

Clinic after clinic. Harriet didnt deteriorate, but she wasnt improving either. George left his business to his deputies and lived almost full time at the hospital, leaving only to shower and change. Christina stayed too, but it became clear to the staff that this beautiful, charming woman was only a propshe knew nothing about her daughter, nodded through questions, and blinked away tears. People thought her mute with worry, and so gently shifted their inquiries to George.

Yet the truth was sadder.

Christina was not truly worried about Harriet. The doctors were doing all they couldthere was nothing left for her to do. She missed her former life, chafed at the sterile smells despite the hospital being as comfortable as money could buy.

The breaking point came when she learned George was selling their house.

Why, George? Are you running out of money?

Yes.

His simply-spoken answer left her lost.

But how?! You always had

Had a lot? Was that why you stayed with me all this time? I diduntil now. Treating our daughter is expensive. Harriet needs surgery, you know that. No one here will do it; we need Europes best clinic, and that means money. Everything must gothe house, the business, everything. Ill do whatever it takes for Harriet to be well again.

And me? What about me? Christina whispered, now seeing what came next.

You? Georges tone suddenly rang steel. Dont you think I see how miserable you are? Im giving you your freedom, Christina. You can live how you wishIll make sure you have enough, plus a car and flat in London. But youll have to visit Harriet in hospital at least twice a week, and when we fly abroad for the operation, you come too. You may be a selfish so-and-so, but youre still her mother. She needs you. Show even a scrap of kindnesspretend if you have to! Do not let her see you dont care.

For the first time, George stopped holding back, for himself or her. He was frightenedhorribly, full-body, cold-sweat frightened. Everything that mattered to him lay beyond that door, where theyd just argued. All that made his world made a tiny mound under the white hospital sheet, clinging to her teddy with an IV in her small arm. At that moment, George knewthe only thing linking him to this woman, tear-streaked and broken in the corridor, was their daughter.

Enough! Go wash your face and dont you dare scare Harrietshe needs calm, not tears. Youll get what you want, but right now, youll earn it. Is that clear? Move, Christina, and dont make me repeat myself.

What changed, in that squat, awkward-looking man Christina always overlooked? She wouldnt have known if askedexcept suddenly, George seemed to stand taller, broadened out, and towered over her like a mountain, solid and unbreakable. Anyone behind that mountain would have nothing to fear.

Christina turned and hurried away, not seeing George slip into the room where a tuft of ginger hair twitched on the pillow.

Daddy came a faint call.

Barbara, sitting beside her grandchild, rose, clutching the storybook shed been reading. Drawing George into the hall, she murmured, If youll let me stay

Barbara, you never need my permission, George sighed, drawing her into a brief hug. I cant imagine what Id do without you.

Oh, GeorgeIm so ashamed. Its my fault I spoiled her, never taught her better. She was always such a bright, pretty, clever thing, always knew exactly how to please. Now I feel as if Ive lost my child. Or was I just blind to her faults? When did I lose her?

If only we could see these things in advance, wed cushion every fall. Im no saint, eithershould have sorted this sooner. But tell me, does she really not love Harriet? You were a wonderful mum to Christina, set an example How do I not let Harriet slip through my fingers the same way?

Prepare your cushions in advance, George, Barbara dabbed her eyes and composed herself. Right! No mopingwe mustnt. Harriet will notice and have us hopping about. She mustnt worry. Ill put her down for a nap, then pop to the shopshe was asking for ice cream and barely touched her lunch. Try not to make any big decisions just yet, all right? Please, give Christina a little more time. Im not willing to believe shes I just cant.

The operation would come months later. Vanessa left her teaching job and travelled with her son and granddaughter; Barbara did the same.

Six months on, Harriet would return home with her father and two grandmothers. Christina would remain abroad.

Two years of rehabilitation. The hope that kept George and their small family afloat would flare warmly, then flicker low, but would not die until one day, Harriets doctor would take off his glasses, rub his eyes, and smile:

You did it

And life, after another stumble, would choose a new path with a steadier stride.

On Harriets fifteenth birthday, Christina reappeared in her life: beautiful, immaculate, hardly changed. She pecked Barbara on the cheek and nodded at George before drifting through the crowd towards the knot of classmates cheering Harriet.

Darling

The same blue eyes squinted, scrutinising Christinas face.

Mum

Christina started to babble, but Harriet stopped her.

Dont rush. Stay calm. Not now. Later.

But I wanted to

I know. It can wait.

Harriet, please

All right. This way.

Harriet nodded to her guests and led her mother into Georges study. She pulled back the heavy curtain, perched on the window ledge, and shrugged.

Im listening.

My God, you look just like your father

What, Mum? Difficult?

Thats not what I meant.

But I am. Know what, Mum? The man you looked down on, the one you hurt and left, has never spoken a bad word about you. Not once, hear me? Not once! He never brought another woman homefor my sake. He didnt even divorce you. He always said I had a mothereven though you were rarely there. Want to know something else, Mum?

What? Christinas voice barely a whisper. This was not the little girl she remembered. Harriets tone rang like steelGeorges steelwhen hed had quite enough. One word out of step, and Christina sensed the door would slam forever.

That difficult man taught me one thing: to forgive. He told me never to carry grudges. I dont know if Im any good at it yetbut Im his daughter, I see things through. Not sure Ill manage this, thoughI barely remember you, and I dont particularly want to. I dont need you, you know. I have Dad, and my grandmothers. Everything I need as a girl, theyve given me. I dont have a space for you in my life. Still, for Dads sake, Ill tryIll give you a chance to be a real person, Mum.

And before that? What was I?

Anything. A pretty doll, a glossy cover, a soulless monster Tough, isnt it? But thats how it is. I remember napping in the ward to Grandmas lullabies, holding Dads hand, not yours. Having my head shaved, then Grandma Barbara crying, Grandma Vanessa bringing me a ghastly pink sun hatwe put it on my shiny bald head, and laughed so hard I nearly wet myself on the way to the loo. And you werent there

I remember starting school a year late, struggling, Grandma taking turns doing lessons with me when Dad was still at work. Grandma Barbara sewed my ballet tutu, bought me a swans crown, even knowing Id never dance on stage as I once dreamed. I danced at home and got more applause than Covent Garden ever gave. Grandma Vanessa brought paints, brushes, and together we painted into the night. That paintingsee, thereit won first place. I gave it to Dad for his birthday. And still, you werent there.

But, Mum, youre here now

For what? Why have you come?

To be close to you

Why dont I believe you? Harriet traced lazy patterns in the condensation on the window. Below, George watched her from the garden. She waved, then turned back to her mother. Dont know? Well, neither do I. Im not going to think about it now. Prove youre still neededmaybeIll consider forgiveness. Until then, youre welcome. Make yourself at home. Cakes in an hour. I must get back to my guests. Excuse me.

She hopped down, straightened the curtain, and paused in the doorway.

Whats wrong, Mum? Am I a difficult one?

Christina watched her daughter, not daring to hope.

Good! Means Im like Dadand thats brilliant. Thank you! Best compliment you could give me. Maybe I really am ready to think about it. See you later.

A flash of ginger curls vanished. Christina pressed her palm to the pane where Harriets fingers had left their mark.