A New Dream by Maggie Ford (world of reading .TXT) 📕

she soothed, but was growing weary of her sister’s constant whining. Stephanie was beginning to remind her of their mother and her lack of courage.

At nearly seven months pregnant she now refused to go out. She had stopped going for walks with Julia a couple of months ago when her pregnancy had begun to show. Even then the winter weather had meant that the walks had not been regular. Now it was nearly April and the weather had improved but Stephanie was ashamed to be seen out. She got no fresh air and hardly left the living room so that Simon found himself more or less confined to the bedroom.

‘The place is like a prison,’ he complained testily as he pushed away his half-eaten breakfast.

Not only a prison, Julia thought, more like a sentence with hard labour. As well as trying to manage a business she was finding her time being taken up running after her sister and her work was suffering.

‘What worries me,’ Simon was saying, ‘is that when she has the baby she might assume she can stay here, expecting us to look after them both. I’m sorry to say this, Julia, but your mother should have done something to help her. You should have stuck to your guns and refused to take Stephanie in.’

That was easier said than done. ‘How could I see her thrown out?’

‘We could have got her a little place of her own somewhere. We could have afforded it.’

‘She can’t live on her own in her condition. I couldn’t do that to her.’

‘It seems your mother could. There was a time I felt sorry for her, a grieving widow unable to cope. I wanted to help but she turned on us both. She behaved in a thoroughly self-centred manner after all you’ve done for her. Turning out her own daughter, no matter that Stephanie had done wrong, was cruel and wicked. She’s no mother as far as I’m concerned.’

Julia bore his criticisms in silence. She knew he was angry on her behalf. She also knew he was right, but even so it hurt coming from him.

The plight of her sister wasn’t the only thing that concerned her these days. With the wedding now postponed indefinitely because of Stephanie’s situation, Julia was beginning to wonder if they should bother with a wedding at all. She had to agree with Simon that if her mother had been a little more forgiving, her own future would by now be settled. Couldn’t the woman see that her attitudes and behaviour were causing problems to so many others, as well as alienating her from her children?

Julia had tried to reason with her several times since Christmas but her only response was, ‘Stephanie made her bed, let her lie in it.’

‘But haven’t you any motherly feelings?’

‘In this case, I’m afraid not.’

She’d never known her mother to be so firm. ‘Don’t you see, Mummy, you’re hurting the whole family and yourself as well.’

‘Then I’m sorry but I can’t alter how I feel. You’ve hurt me with your goings on more than I can tell you.’

It was useless.

‘Julia! Help me… help!’

Stephanie’s distant scream rang through the building. Julia, who was showing several colours of crêpe de Chine to a customer, excused herself and rushed upstairs. In the stockroom she saw Betty making for Simon’s rooms. The four machinists had stopped work at the awful screams.

‘Betty,’ Julia cried as she reached her, ‘go down and take care of my customer. The rest of you,’ she added as Betty hurried off, ‘carry on with your work.’

She found Stephanie doubled up on the sofa, her arms clasped about her stomach, her face twisted in pain. Immediately Julia guessed the worst. Stephanie was only eight months pregnant. Something was very wrong. ‘Stay here,’ she cried needlessly and rushed outside to the telephone to call for an ambulance.

Stephanie lay in hospital, pale and exhausted. The baby had been a boy. The doctor and midwife had tried hard to save him but it had been a breech birth and there had been complications. The child was stillborn.

Once the ambulance had driven away, bell clanging, with Ginny accompanying her sister, Julia had torn upstairs to tell her mother. Victoria’s expression was stony.

‘I heard the ambulance, so I assumed she had started.’

‘She should have another month to go yet,’ Julia shot at her. ‘She’s only eight months and it could be dangerous.’

‘She has probably miscalculated. It would be just like her.’

How could her mother remain so calm, Julia wondered. She who for years would break down in tears at the slightest provocation. ‘The doctor who examined her confirmed there’s still just over a month to go to her full term,’ Julia went on. ‘I think you should go with me to the hospital, Mummy. She’ll need you to be there.’

Her mother’s expression seemed to harden. ‘She’s nothing to do with me. She chose to get herself in this condition. I’ve washed my hands of her.’

For a moment Julia gazed at her, stunned. Then livid anger seemed to rip through her like a knife. ‘What a wicked, wicked woman you really are!’ she burst out, making her mother jump. ‘How dare you? And if she died, which she could, would that not bother you either?’

‘I’ve told you, Julia…’

But Julia wasn’t finished. ‘I never realized what an utterly selfish person you are. You’ve been weeping for years over your loss, never allowing yourself to get over it, and expecting all of us to rally round you, help you. It’s time you had a little sympathy for others.’

Before her mother could reply she rushed on, ‘She’s your daughter, no matter what she’s done. Forget yourself for once, help her! Be there for her, comfort her. Or do you not have a single loving bone in your body? If you don’t do this, Mummy, you’ll lose us all – we’ll all see you for what you are. You’ll end up friendless and spend the rest of your life alone!’

Her voice shook so