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soberly. 'Christie, are you wise to take a risk like this? Your
mother is all for it, but I'm not so sure. You're doing so well in
films, and wasn't there talk of a TV serial? Why throw all that
groundwork away?'
'I have to,' Christie said wryly. 'Don't ask me why, Dad. Do
you think I haven't had dark warnings from everyone around
me? I know I'm being reckless, but I didn't go into acting to
work in films, I wanted to go on the stage I still do, and for the
next year I can afford to rest on my laurels and wait for offers.'
'Christie's quite right,' said Delia. 'She isn't going anywhere
in films; she's a born stage actress, it would be a crime to waste
that talent. She has to follow her own instincts.'
'So long as she isn't following yours,' Gerald said gently. 'I
know you always dreamt she would go on the stage, but Christie
can't live her life for you and you can't live through her, either.'
'I'm not trying to,' Delia protested, looking angry. She
looked at Christie. 'Have I ever tried to push you into a stage
career? Have I?'
'Of course not,' said Christie, surprised and disturbed by the
argument between her parents. She could remember them
quarrelling occasionally when she was small, but in recent years
they had rarely argued and she didn't want them to do so over
her. 'Nobody had to push me, Dad I never wanted to do
anything else. Maybe I did get the bug from Mum, but not
because she tried to influence me. In fact, I remember her
warning me about all the drawbacks. She almost tried to talk me
out of it.' She smiled at her mother. 'Didn't you now? Gave me a
real gypsy's warning.'
'I didn't want you to go ahead without knowing the risks,'
said Delia, smiling back. 'It's the toughest profession in the
world.'
'So it was unconscious,' Gerald Mottram said. 'Your mother
didn't know she was nudging you all the time, but deep down
she dreamt of nothing else. Oh, come on now, Delia didn't you
want Christie to be what you'd never managed to be? Whether
you pushed her or not, it was your dream she was living out.'
Her mother seemed uncertain, she looked at Christie and
then at Gerald Mottram, knitting her brows. 'I don't think so I
was contented with my amateur status.' She forced a laugh. 'It
was a lot less of a strain. You know the stomach cramps I get
when I'm going on stage, think how I'd have been if I'd been a
professional! You need drive and determination to make it in the
real theatre and I didn't have either, but I don't think I tried to
influence Christie, not knowingly, anyway.'
'It doesn't seem to me to matter, in any case,' Christie said
impatiently. 'The fact is, I've always wanted to be an actress.
What difference does it make now whether Mum wanted it too,
or it was all my own idea?'
Her father lowered his voice. 'If it hadn't been for your
obsession with acting, your marriage might have worked out.'
Christie paled, glancing round at Kit, who was still playing
with the dog. He grinned as she caught his eye and got up, came
over and leant against her knee. 'Mummy's going to buy me a
dog,' he told his grandparents. 'A little tiny one. And when I've
got my dog Daddy and me will take it for walks. Daddy had a
dog; he used to throw sticks in the sea and his dog brought them
back.' He paused, looking thoughtful. 'But there's no sea in
London so we can't play that, but Daddy will think of a game.'
Christie met her parents' eyes. The spaniel on the rug stirred,
got up and padded to the back door, whining to be let out. Kit
ran after him into the garden, and Gerald Mottram went with
them, closing the door on a wave of clammy mist.
'Does he see much of Logan?' her mother asked.
'Logan visits him when he can.'
'Kit's very fond of him?'
'Yes,' said Christie almost with defiance, as though her
mother was hinting at something that felt like criticism.
'If you're in England . . .' began Delia, frowning disapproval.
'I know,' Christie said. 'What am I supposed to do? Stay over
there so that Kit can see his father whenever Logan has the
time? I love Kit very much, I want him to be happy, but I'm not
just his mother, I have my own life to lead. I'm the one who
takes care of Kit, not Logan. He visits him maybe once or twice
a month for a few hours. Kit's with me every day, he's far more
my son than he is Logan's.'
'I know how hard it is for you; I wasn't criticising you.'
'Sometimes I feel I'm being torn in half,' sighed
Christie, watching Kit through the kitchen window as he ran up
and down the narrow garden paths, shouting and laughing with
the dog on his heels. 'It isn't easy to combine a career with being
a mother; something gets sacrificed all the time. I just try to
make sure it's never Kit. So long as he's happy and well, I can
feel easy, and I think I'll see even more of him when I'm
working in the theatre than I can now. I won't have to spend the
days in the studio or out on location, I can be with Kit, and he'll
go to bed while I'm working in the evenings. I think it will work
out beautifully. The only problem is Logan.'
'How did he take the news that you planned to move to
London?'
'He doesn't know yet,' Christie said with a little grimace. 'I
didn't quite have the nerve to tell him.'
Her mother looked at her sharply. 4Oh, dear,' she said, and
Christie nodded. 'I couldn't put it better myself.'
CHAPTER SIX
THE following day Ziggy took Kit to London Zoo, while
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