To Have and to Hold by Deborah Moggach Read Free Book Online

packets, and lifted one out.
‘Produces a rich profusion of sky-blue blossoms,’
she read out, ‘
from earliest spring to the first frosts
.’
    Ann smiled. ‘You believe it?’
    Viv nodded. ‘Every year.’ She put the packet back. ‘It’s optimism. Or stupidity.’
    â€˜Or faith.’
    Viv had come here to buy seed potatoes for her allotment. They wandered on.
    Ann said: ‘Last night I dreamed of a baby called Jonquil.’
    Viv stopped. ‘What a lovely name.’
    She looked at Ann, then led her to a bench. It was white, wrought-iron, with a price-tag. They sat down. For some moments Ann didn’t speak. She was realizing – later she remembered her exact thoughts – that one day she must bring herself to buy plants for her extension room because that would now be its purpose. It would probably look quite decorative and, as Ken said, whatever they used it for, it couldn’t fail to increase the value of their house.
    She said: ‘I think I’m going mad.’
    Ken wiped a plate dry. ‘Hope she doesn’t go mad at that place.’
    â€˜Annie?’
    â€˜Her and her Access card.’
    Ollie passed him a bowl. ‘Ann never goes mad, surely.’
    â€˜Not alone.’
    â€˜Ah, but under the evil influence of her sister . . .’
    Ken rubbed the bowl dry. ‘Well, Viv’s the one with the green fingers. Things grow, for Viv.’
    Ollie nodded and passed Ken another bowl. Ken looked through the foliage at the garden. He willed Ollie not to start talking: Ollie liked asking the sort of probing questions that made Ken’s armpits hot.
    Ken cleared his throat and pointed to the rabbit pen. ‘I see there’s some new arrivals. How many this time?’
    â€˜Eight.’
    â€˜Breed like rabbits, eh?’
    Ollie nodded. ‘The kids are getting blasé about the Miracle of Birth.’
    Ann said: ‘I didn’t think it could get worse, but it does. Every day. Nothing means anything. I wake up . . .’ She paused. ‘There’s Ken beside me but he seems miles away.’ They were sitting on the ‘For Sale’ bench. Ann turned the price-tag over and over in her hand. ‘He can’t help.’
    â€˜No,’ said Viv.
    â€˜Nobody can. Not him, not you.’
    â€˜I wish I could.’
    Ann took a breath, then said in a rush: ‘Yesterday I was watching Mrs Maguire in her garden. She’s always screaming at her children, and I looked at her back view, her big broad back, she had her legs apart, and I hated her. I did, Viv. I hated her for taking them for granted. I felt I was going mad.’
    â€˜You’re not mad!’
    â€˜He won’t talk about it, you see.’
    â€˜And he won’t consider adopting?’
    A couple strolled past them, pushing a trolley of peat bags. Ann and Viv sat in silence.
    Finally Ann said: ‘No.’ She paused. ‘He minds.’
    â€˜I thought he would.’
    â€˜Whose it is.’
    Viv nodded. Ann fiddled with the price-tag. ‘He does love children.’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜Even though he may be, well, severe sometimes. But that’s because he wants the best for them.’
    Beside her, Viv nodded. She rummaged in her bag and brought out her cigarettes.
    Ann said slowly: ‘He was so excited this time.’
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜Telling everybody. He even told the neighbours and you know what he’s like with them.’
    Viv nodded, and blew out smoke.
    â€˜That’s what’s made it so difficult. He’s clammed up. If we could share it, if I knew he felt it too. This feeling of . . .’
    â€˜Of what?’
    Ann paused. ‘Emptiness. Nothing being worth doing.’
    Viv drew on her cigarette. ‘Worse than last time?’ she asked finally.
    Ann thought for a moment. ‘Yes.’
    A couple passed, the man holding the hand of a little girl.
    Ann said: