The Nights of This January
For years her memory had drifted like a sweet ghost on the edge of my mind. Sometimes in spring I caught a whiff of lily of the valley from the garden, and remembered her scent, or I heard a child Jane being called by her mother, and wondered where my girl is. What she is doing, who she is with. If she smiled at them as she had smiled at me. Does she catch herself in a quiet moment on a busy day and think of me, or had I slipped from her memory as easily as I had slipped from her life?
I had tried to keep up with her son's doings, so it felt that I hadn't lost her completely. The headmaster at Ripon School had told me about Freddie's progress; the boy had written to me occasionally to thank me for my help and interest, and we had met several times. His likeness to his mother was like a blow to my heart. When he won a scholarship to Cambridge I had written to congratulate him, and one sentence in his letter had hit me like a blow in the gut. "Mama has married again, and she and my new stepfather are very proud of me, I'm pleased to say." I didn't read any more. Why wouldn't she marry again, a sweet, loving woman like her? Any man with eyes in his head would want her. I wouldn't admit, even to myself, how Freddie's words had aroused a murderous jealousy of that unknown man, how the very thought of him lying in her arms and making love to her made me feel sick and full of impotent rage. It was unreasonable, utterly futile, utterly stupid, yet I was so angry and depressed at the news that for days people tiptoed round me and didn't speak to me unless I spoke first. I heard Miss Tomlinson ask Cameron, "What on earth has upset his lordship so much? He's like a bear with a sore head!" in a bewildered tone of voice, and imagined Cameron's mystified shrug in reply.
Jane. My Jane. You said that when we were dead that your ghost would come looking for mine. Will you search for me now?
Freddie wrote to invite me to Cambridge for his graduation ceremony. I accepted, thinking that for some reason his mother couldn't be present, and he wanted someone he knew to be there, to see his triumph. I was puzzled that she couldn't be there – wasn't she proud of him? Perhaps her husband wouldn't let her attend for some reason. Anyway, the boy needed someone there on his big day. He had been offered a teaching post, as well, so there was double cause for celebration. Cora shrugged when I told her I was spending a couple of days in Cambridge, and didn't say anything, apart from it seemed a shame for me to be away when the grandchildren were visiting.
When I arrived at his college Freddie was waiting to greet me, full of enthusiasm and eager to show me everything. I congratulated him again – I'd never be able to tell him, of course, but I was as proud as if he were my son. I'd never been to university; I joined the army from school, as was the Crawley tradition, and I had no idea how much hard work was needed for the First he had won. I suspected it was rather a lot more than I was capable of.
We met again after the ceremony. As we walked towards the college garden where refreshments were being served, he said "Mama and Edward are here as well, sir. She is very anxious to meet you again and thank you for all you've done for us."
I had already seen her, walking towards us, so I was prepared for our meeting, for seeing her again. Of course, Freddie must have told her that I would be there. I had been stupid to think that anything would keep her away. She was the same. Still beautiful. Still smiling. Only small lines around her eyes hinted at the passing of years. Who did you smile at, who made you smile so much that it left those traces? She stood before me, her hand in the arm of a tall, thin man.
"Mrs Moorsum. It's such a pleasure to meet you again."
"Mrs Hamilton, now, my lord. It's good to see you, too. This is my husband, Edward. Lord Grantham, Edward, who has been more than kind to Freddie over the past few years." Her voice was the same gentle one I remembered. My softly spoken Lalage...
We shook hands. We chatted socially, trivially for a few moments, then her husband turned to Freddie. "I'm sure his lordship and your mother have much to talk about. Why don't we go and look at your new rooms?"
They left, and we were alone. I offered her my arm, and we walked to a couple of chairs in the shade of the trees, well away from anyone else. Her face was hidden by the wide brim of her hat, and much as I wanted to, I couldn't see her expression.
"Freddie told me you had re-married. What does he do?"
If she was surprised or annoyed at my tone, or the suddenness of the question, she didn't show it.
"Edward is a teacher at Freddie's old school. He took Freddie under his wing after – after I left Downton. I was working at Harewood and couldn't be at home very often. We met when I went to the school one day and it went – well, from there." She lifted her hands, then let them fall into her lap, as if there was no more to be said about him.
"Are you happy, Jane?" it was abrupt, but I couldn't help myself.
"Yes. Edward is a good man." Pause. " I don't love him as much as he deserves."
I bent forward to look at her face. "Why ever not?"
She turned to look at me, and her clear, candid eyes met mine. "You should know why." I felt the shock of her look, and her words, right through my body. My throat went dry with longing for her.
"Jane..."
She was looking at her hands clasped in her lap. " I married Edward because he is a good kind man, and Freddie needed a father as he grew up. But I've never forgotten what I said to you, that last time." Our eyes met again. "Do you remember?"
I loved you the moment I saw you. I'll love you until I die. I want nothing but to be with you. When we're both dust my ghost will come searching for yours so we can be together.
I could hardly speak, but managed to say "Yes. I remember."
She smiled. A light breeze shook the leaves, and their sun-dappled shadows moved over her, light and gentle as a lover's touch. To a casual onlooker, we were having a polite social chat about nothing at all. "It was true then, and it's true today. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll love you always." She looked away, to where Freddie and her husband were approaching. "Thank you for everything you've done for him, my lord. I can never thank you enough."
"It was a pleasure and a privilege, Jane. I did it for my own selfish reasons, and to honour what his father did, and he's more than repaid me. There's no need for thanks."
She leaned towards me and I caught a hint of her scent. It was still lily of the valley. Her hand stroked mine, lightly. "Never selfish, Robert. Not you. You are the kindest, best man alive." She tilted her head, as she used to do when she was talking to me, and smiled the smile I remembered, a dimple appearing in her cheek.
They were here now, and there was the end of our too-brief tête à tête. She stood, and held out her hand."It's been so good to see you again, my lord, and talk over old times." A handshake, a farewell smile, and for the second time I watched her walk away from me. Not looking back.
The title is taken from a poem by Cavafy "January 1904". I imagine Robert thinking about and longing for Jane for years, then starting to miss her all over again after this brief encounter.
Ah, the nights of this January,
when I sit and recreate those moments
in my mind and I meet you
and I hear our last words and I also hear the first.
Despairing nights of this January,
when the vision vanishes and leaves me bereft...