Act of Will - Barbara Taylor Bradford

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it more intently.

      Three generations, she murmured under her breath. But we don’t look as if we’re related. We might easily be strangers, as disparate in appearance as any three women could be. And yet we are very much alike deep down within ourselves.

      Almost half a century ago Vincent told me that I had an implacable will. He said I was relentless and propelled by a terrible driving force within myself. He was very angry that day. And I was angry, too. And hurt. But he spoke the truth. And they have inherited those characteristics from me…my daughter, my granddaughter. When Christina was a child I committed an act of will that changed all of our lives irrevocably. And then when she was a young woman Christina repeated the pattern, performed an act of will of her own that was as powerful as mine. Now it is Kyle’s turn…she is on the verge of doing the same. And, as before, our lives won’t ever be the same again.

      Audra sat up with a jolt, sudden comprehension flickering on her face. ‘I am to blame,’ she said aloud to the silent room, and then she thought: If I had done things differently, things would be different now. Everything that is happening now harks back to me when I was a young woman. Cause and effect. Every act we commit, trivial or important, has its inevitable consequences. It’s like throwing a pebble into a pool and watching the ripples spread out…farther and farther, ever far reaching.

      Audra sank back onto the pillows and lay there, allowed herself to drift with her thoughts. They were centred entirely on Kyle.

      Slowly the pain in her hands and knees began to ease and her body grew warmer under the quilt. Audra closed her eyes at last.

      Nineteen-twenty-six, she mused drowsily…such a long time ago…but not so long that I can’t remember what I was like then…when I was Kyle’s age.

       Audra

       1926-1951

       CHAPTER 1

      Today it was her birthday.

      It was the third of June in the year 1926 and she was nineteen years old.

      Audra Kenton stood at the window of her room in the Fever Hospital in Ripon, where she worked as a nurse, gazing out at the back garden. She watched the play of light and shadow on the lawn, as the sunlight filtered through the leafy domes of the two great oaks that grew near the old stone wall. There was a gentle breeze and the leaves rustled and trembled under it, and shimmered with green brilliance as they caught the sun. It was radiant and balmy, a pretty day that invited and beckoned.

      Matron had given Audra the afternoon off for her birthday. The problem was that she had nowhere to go and no one to spend it with. She was entirely alone in this world.

      Audra only had one friend, another nurse at the hospital called Gwen Thornton, but Gwen had been summoned home to Horsforth yesterday. Her mother had been taken ill and she was needed. Weeks ago, Gwen had arranged to exchange her day off with one of the other nurses, so that she could be with Audra, celebrate this important occasion with her, and the two of them had planned a very special day. Now their elaborate plans were laid to waste.

      Leaning her head against the window frame, Audra sighed, thinking of the empty hours looming ahead. Unexpectedly her throat tightened and she felt the tears gathering behind her eyes as sadness mingled with bitter disappointment trickled through her. But after only a few seconds she blinked and cleared her throat, managed to take hold of herself. Resolutely she pushed aside the negative emotions momentarily invading her, refusing to feel sorry for herself. Audra despised self-pity in others, considered it to be a sign of weakness. She was strong. Her mother had always told her that she was, and her mother had rarely been wrong about anything.

      Turning away from the window, she walked over to the chair and sat down heavily, wondering what to do with herself.

      She could read, of course, or do a little embroidery, or even finish the sketch of the blouse she was designing, and which she intended to make-when she could afford to buy the fabric. On the other hand, none of these occupations had any real appeal for her. Not today. Not on her birthday.

      She had been so looking forward to the outing with her friend, to enjoying a few carefree hours of pleasure for once in her life. Audra had little to celebrate these days, and festive occasions were a thing of the past, a rarity indeed. In fact, her life had changed so radically, so harshly, in the last few years, she hardly recognized it as her own.

      It suddenly struck her that resorting to one of those mundane hobbies, normally used to pass the time when she was off duty, would be infinitely worse than just sitting in this chair, doing nothing. They’re poor substitutes, all of them, for the plans Gwen and I made.

      Audra had long since trained herself not to notice this room where she lived in the hospital. But now, seeing it so clearly illuminated in the bright sunshine, she became painfully aware of its ugliness and lack of comfort. Having been born into gentility, albeit somewhat impoverished, Audra was a young woman of breeding and refinement. She possessed taste in abundance, had strong artistic leanings, and the austerity of the spartan furnishings and institutional colour scheme offended her sensibilities, made her wince in dismay.

      Confronting her were walls painted a dismal porridge-beige which ran down to a floor covered with dreary grey linoleum that had seen better days. The iron bedstead, rickety night stand and chest of drawers were notable only for their shabbiness and utilitarian design. The room was chillingly bleak, intolerable at any time, but especially on this sunny afternoon. She knew she had to escape its oppressive boundaries for a short while, no matter where she went.

      Her gaze fell on the dress lying on the bed, where she had placed it a short time before. It was new. She had saved up for a whole year, putting away a shilling every week, in order to buy herself a present for her birthday.

      She and Gwen had gone to Harrogate two Saturdays ago with this in mind. They had wandered around for several hours, mostly window shopping and admiring the beautiful things they saw and which they knew they would never be able to afford. Audra filled with warm and affectionate feelings for Gwen as she thought of that day now.

      Gwen was especially attracted to jewellers’ shops, and Audra had found herself constantly cupping her hands and dutifully peering through glass at some bauble that had caught Gwen’s attention. ‘Oh Audra! Just look at that!’ Gwen kept crying, pointing to a brooch or a ring or a pendant. At one moment she had clutched Audra’s arm fiercely and whispered in awed tones, ‘Have you ever seen anything like that gorgeous bangle, Audra! Why, the stones could be real the way they sparkle like diamonds. It would suit you, Audra. Let’s go in…it doesn’t cost anything just to look.’

      Audra had half-smiled and shaken her head, not saying a word, and she had thought of her mother’s jewellery, which had been much more beautiful than any of these tawdry imitations of the real thing.

      Gwen’s excited exclamations and urgent proddings continued a bit too long for Audra that afternoon, and she had eventually grown exasperated, had silenced her friend with a stern look and a sharp admonition to be quiet. Immediately regretting her shortness, she had apologized to Gwen. And she had gone on to explain to her, for the umpteenth time, that she had no money to spare for frivolous items like brooches and bracelets and nonsensical hats and bottles of Devon Violets scent, which were just a few of the things Gwen constantly craved.

      ‘You know I only ever buy clothes for myself,’ Audra had said, and had added, with a tiny rueful laugh, ‘and usually the most practical clothes I can find, at that, Gwen. Things I know will last me for a very long time.’

      And then, not ten minutes after she had uttered these fateful words, Audra had seen the dress in the window of Madame Stella’s gown shop. She had fallen in love with it instantly. It was a frock destined only to go to parties, a

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