Many years ago, I remember when Beatrice was carrying bags from the grocers, chattering away with our neighbour Margaret. As they approached the iron gate of Beatrices cottage, a sleek black motorcar stood waiting, its paintwork gleaming in the morning light. Beatrice stood a little straighter, her voice tinged with pride.
Oh! It must be my future son-in-law, paying a morning call.
Margaret cast her own sharp glance at the car, a flicker of suspicion in her green eyes.
You already call him son-in-law, do you? Hmph. I didnt realise Edith had received a proposal yet. Best be careful, Bea you never know whos trawling about in a posh car these days. Crooks, conmen Could be anyone.
Beatrice waved a gloved hand dismissively, lips pressed tight. Nonsense. Hes a gentleman, and hes courting Edie with the best intentions. Now, I mustnt dawdle. Guest needs his tea, and Ive got just the thing for itsome splendid toffees.
With her shopping swinging from her arm, Beatrice nearly ran to the garden gate. Margaret squinted after her, her face twisting unpleasantly.
There you have it! And I was wondering why she was buying the finest sausages, the best chocolate, and a lump of good cheese. All for a fancy guest in her parlour. Cant wait to marry that silly Edith off, thats what it is.
***
At home, Beatrice was beaming. As she entered, she found the scene shed been hoping for: Edith, her daughter, perched on a stool, and the guesther would-be son-in-lawvery nearly looming over her, gazing into her eyes. At the slam of the door, he stood up straight and stepped away at once. Oh, surely caught admiring Edie!
He was polite as ever, of course. It turned out hed arrived with flowers, a box of chocolates, and a fine perfume.
He nearly bowed to Beatrice, the future mother-in-law, and she couldnt take her eyes off him. My darling girl, what a dashing gentleman! A hint of silver at his temples lends him an air of distinction, not age. Hes an aristocrat through and through! she exclaimed later to her daughter.
Edith smiled with confidence. He is, Mother.
So, why was he here this time? More gifts, more flowers? Beatrice pressed.
Ediths smile faded a little. No, Mother. No proposal yet. He just wanted to tempt me to the theatrea date in town.
All brightness fell from Beatrices face.
A date, is it? Tempting you, you say? These London chaps, always the same. Dally with stylish ladies, grow bored, and come poking about the countryside for new conquests. Hes been coming for months and says nothing of marriage!
Mother
What? Youre thirty! Hes nearly forty, for goodness sake! Why not tie the knot already? If hes just leading you on, hed best be gone.
Mother, well sort it.
Hush, Edith, and listen to your mother! Beatrice snapped, striding over to snatch away the sliver of sausage Edith was nibbling. Put it back! You must think of your figure. And its dear sausagehell come again for tea, and what will I serve if you eat it now?
Ediths remarkable blue eyes studied her mother quietly. Why are you truly upset, Mum? What is it this time?
Beatrice stashed the meat in the icebox, clattering plates as she cleared the table. She snatched away the cheese and the sweets too, shooting a wounded look at Edith. Im worried, thats why! He comes, calls, and in the end, might just turn on his heel, and youll be left, at your age, with a poor reputation. Suitorsll avoid our cottage after this aristocrat has made his mark.
Dont fret, Mother, Edith said with a gentle smile. Hes not going anywhere. That much I know.
***
A week later, Beatrice was packing Ediths trunk, dabbing her eyes with a kerchief, wounded at the thought. Shed hoped Edith to be chaste, proper, and here Well, matters had gone further than she imagined.
Her daughter was expecting! When shed asked how, Edith grinned slyly.
He used to give me a lift to the woods to pick berries. Hed wait for me, you seewait just for me because he thought me so lovely.
In the woods? Oh, Edith! Really? At least give me an honest answerwhere did I go wrong in your upbringing? wailed Beatrice.
Her daughter simply smiled, eating sausage and cheese, her face lit with laughter. It doesnt matter now, does it, Mum? The important thing is hell marry me!
Well have the family at the wedding, mind! Oh, how shall I let you go off to distant places, my hearts own daughter?
Ill visit you all the time, Mummy
Neighbours were soon pounding at the door, breathless and boisterous: Bea, your Ediths off to town with her young man and youve kept it secret!
Shes leaving! Beatrice rushed about, the news flying.
Oh, but weve no presents! You should have warned us, Beatrice!
No need, shes just going to the city with her fiancé. Thats all.
A joyous occasion!
***
So off she went, Beatrices one girlher darling Edithtaken by her beloved to the city. Edith rang often, telling her mother of the grand house her prospective husband owned.
But Beatrice kept waiting for news of the wedding that never came. Weeks passed, then months, half a year. It was Margaret who burst in one afternoon with the tale: shed seen Edith in town, pushing a pram.
A pram?! Beatrice gasped.
She barely remembered how she dressed in haste and took the coach to the city.
Her granddaughter was hereand Edith had kept it a secret! Not a word to her own mother.
She called Edith straight from the stationthank goodness for city telephones, unlike their village. Edith didnt answer at once, ignoring the ring, which only made Beatrices blood boil hotter.
Well, where are you, then? she shouted down the receiver, ignoring the glances of those around. Im at the station, come fetch me! And do explain how youve gone and had a child without so much as telling me!
Edith arrived alone by cab, eyes averted. Sorry, Mum, things got ahead of me. Ive had a daughtercalled her Violet. She looks so much like you
Were living in Harrys housewell, the mans name is Harry. Its a beautiful place.
Oh?
Beatrice eyed her daughter sternly. Youre ashamed of me, tell the truth, Edith?
No, never! Edith insisted quickly. Its just well, Harry lives with his mother. The house, the careverything is hers. And she refuses to let him marry me.
***
Beatrice crossed the threshold with purpose, determined to set things right once and for all. What manner of mother would refuse her sons happiness? Her daughter had brought a new baby into the house and stillno wedding!
Ignoring Harry and even the child Edith tried to place in her arms, Beatrice marched straight through in search of this mother, and found her upstairs, tinkling away on a grand piano.
Clearing her throat, Beatrice demanded attention, but received none. So, she closed the lid of the piano herself.
The stiff, well-dressed woman peered over her spectacles with frosty disdain. Whats going on? Who are you?
I am Ediths mother! Beatrice declared. Isnt it a bit much, playing piano when theres a baby trying to sleep?
You mean Violet? Shes had enough rest, the pianist sniffed. Besides, it depends whos keeping whom awake!
And whatdoes a child disturb you? Perhaps youd prefer to move out and let the young people have their peace? Beatrice retorted.
And why should I leave? demanded the lady sharply. This is my house.
Youre stifling their family.
Am I? I dont make them stay. The doors therethey can go any time.
So you care nothing for your own granddaughter?
The woman gave a cold stare. And you are Beatrice, is it? Tell me, Beatrice, why should I worry over your daughter and granddaughter when they have you and Harry? Ive already parted with the most precious thing I ever hadmy son! My help, my companion. Isnt that enough? Or do you intend to throw me out?
Ill ring the proper people and have you escorted from my property if you make trouble. Worse, keep at it, and your lot will be back to the villagedaughter, granddaughter, and Harry in tow!
Hearing raised voices, in dashed a flustered Harry. You must be tired from the journey, Mum. Ediths made tea in the dining room!
***
Tea is great for calming nerves, or so they say. Beatrice glared across her cup at the formidable matron, who smiled slyly at her, eyes narrowed.
Ill outlive you yet, Beatrice thought with a twinge of spite.
Harry, perhaps sensing the gathering storm, kept silent but nudged Edith under the table: Your mothers liable to say something mad. Sort it out with her, will you?
Edith knew well enough a talk was due. Her mother crashed on like a runaway cart, headlong towards trouble.
Mum! Edith pulled her away to Harrys study while the lady of the house thundered away on the piano upstairs. We need to talk.
About what? huffed Beatrice. You see what good conversations done so far! That woman of Harrys runs circles round you!
Shes not his mother, Edith confessed, almost wearily. Shes Harrys wife. His first and only wife.
Beatrice stared at her daughter, shock barely contained. What on earth do you mean?
Edith looked doleful. You see, Harrys wealthhis standingit all comes from this marriage. He wed her twenty years ago, when she was nearly fifty. No children, by her own choice
Beatrice blinked, overwhelmed, her gaze roving the study’s gilt wallpaper and velvet curtains, the books lining the shelves. All these richesdue to that woman upstairs.
Its all hers. Edith continued sadly. I didnt grasp it at first. Tried to fight her, thinking as you didthat she was Harrys mother. But then he told me.
That bounder! Beatrice snapped. Why on earth did you get mixed up with him?
Because, Mother, Harry wants a family. He wanted children, but she refused. After years, she relented, allowed him a mistressme. But, you see, theyve been more like flatmates for ages.
Thats enough! Beatrice rose abruptly. Pack uptake your girl and come back to the village!
But Edith raised her chin. Mother, Im not leaving. I have everything I want here. Im staying with Harry! Someday shell pass, and hell marry me proper.
And in the meantime, youll suffer her nonsense!
So be it. Its my lifeI chose it.
Then stay, be the lady everyone walks over, living on sufferance! Im leavingthis house is no place for me! declared Beatrice, furious.
***
From then, Beatrices days dragged without much joy, filled only with the murmur of neighbourhood news. Other daughters married, had sons, and she would sometimes visit Margaret, playing with her grandchildren and thinking of Edith and Violet, her own.
At last, she couldnt bear it. She locked up the cottage and took the train to town, lurking outside that grand house to observe.
She saw, to her surprise and pain, her granddaughterlittle Violetchasing two poodles around the garden, laughing and calling, Granny! Granny! to the lady of the house. To Harrys wife!
Beatrices heart twisted with jealousy. That womanshes no grandmothershes nobody! Im her real granny!
Emerging from the shadows, Beatrice hurried to bang on the gate.
***
This time, no one told her to leave. Even the mistress of the house just said, Its a big placeplenty of rooms for everyone.
The two women did not quarrel anymore, instead tending flowerbeds side by side in the garden, or playing hide-and-seek with Violet, sometimes exchanging barbed comments:
So youve come then, were you scared Id mistreat your daughter? Quite right, for your Ediths too soft to stand up to me. I could send her packing if I pleased. She must take after her fathernot you, youve some backbone, though not much.
Youll get a poke in the eye with a trowel for that, Beatrice muttered. And why not much?
You came here, didnt you, instead of your daughter going to you. Shouldve stuck to your own gunssoft, thats what you are.
Im stronger than you! Why do you think I moved in? I can see youre fading, soon youll be laid up, and someonell have to take care of you. It oughtn’t be my Edith tending your bedpans.
Hah! Dont count on it. Im in excellent health, see the best doctors, eat well, and never had children, so no stress. What makes you think Ill be first to go, Beatrice?
And thus the household continued, the strange domestic alliance of two formidable women, each determined to live and survive on her own terms, sharing, more or less, the love of the next generationVioletwho, oblivious of their rivalry, had two grandmothers in her garden world.
