Chapter 4: Margaret

The Past

Margaret Rutherford was never fond of children. She was fond of trendy clothes, fine jewellery, and attention from men.

Even as a girl, she competed with her older sister Marion for the attention of their father. They were the daughters of a successful London solicitor and his wife, whom even at a young age Margaret considered too matronly for her taste. They were both Daddy's girls, who wanted for nothing as children and even during the war as young teenagers endured few of the deprivations others did, thanks to their father's connections.

However, the dangers posed by the Blitz meant they were sent out of London to attend Miss Pinkerton's Academy for Young Ladies in the comparative safety of the Hampshire countryside.

At Miss Pinkerton's, Margaret fancied herself something of a queen bee. She modelled her hairstyle and gestures on Princess Margaret, whom she regarded as her role model, and tried to emulate the young princess's fashion sense at weekends when wearing the school uniform wasn't required. At boarding school Margaret had to settle for being around girls all the time but she enjoyed setting the social tone, deciding who was in and who was out among the girls in her form. They occasionally got to socialize with the boys from nearby St. Benedict's School but those boys were too immature to bother with. When Marion left school and became engaged to a young man in their father's firm. Margaret was beyond jealous. Marion's fiancé was handsome and charming, and Daddy treated him like the son he never had.

Aside from being the princess of her clique, Margaret's passion at school was ballet. She originally took it up to follow in the footsteps of Marion naturally, who won praise from Daddy for her grace and dedication. Marion was naturally thin and willowy as a teenager but Margaret had to struggle, unable to resist indulging in the Belgian chocolates Daddy had managed to procure for his girls. She fell into the habit of purging after too much indulgence, to try to keep up with her sister.

However, by sixth form Margaret's interest was drawn in an unlikely direction. Ruth Ellingham wasn't the type of girl she would normally be friends with. Ruth was so serious and studious, and she had ambitions to go to university and study psychiatry. Margaret couldn't understand why any girl would put herself through such a thing but apparently Ruth came a from a long line of physicians and anyway she was rather plain so Margaret figured she was probably better off working on a career to support herself than finding a man.

Then there was Ruth's sister Joan, two years behind them at Miss Pinkerton's. In Margaret's estimation Joan was even plainer than Ruth and she spent her free time mainly working in the school's vegetable garden, which she single-handedly kept going, even after the war rationing was winding down. Joan often had dirt under her fingernails and she was always going on about holidays spent at some relative's farm in Cornwall. If Margaret had zero interest in psychiatry, her interest in farm life would have to be in negative numbers. At least by studying medicine if Ruth managed to catch the eye of some man it would likely be a doctor, far preferable to going out with some country bumpkin farmer smelling of manure!

But when the Ellingham girls' parents came to visit for a school open house with them came their older brother Christopher. Tall, blond, with pale blue-grey eyes, he was handsome and distinguished, and was already a medical student. He caught Margaret's eye right away. She purposely stumbled during a ballet recital, just so she could have an excuse to have him look at her ankle. He gave her a knowing look as he felt for swelling, as if he saw right through her scheme to get his attention and thoroughly approved. The touch of his hands on her ankle was like a spark of electricity.

She went out of her way to start being friendly to stuffy old Ruth, to get an invite to the Ellingham family's house over the Christmas holidays for a chance to get to know Christopher better. So with Ruth's unwitting help, Margaret and Christopher became an item.

Later, the friendship became too difficult to keep going when Ruth spotted her shoplifting a chocolate bar or two from the village shop. Not that Ruth would tell on her of course, that just wasn't the thing to do among Miss Pinkerton's girls, and anyway everyone stole from that horrid shop. However, the reproachful look Ruth gave Margaret and her query of "does doing that make you feel better about yourself?" were infuriating. Later, when Ruth reported the sapphire ring that had been a birthday gift from her grandparents was missing, as far as she or anyone else knew it must have slipped off her finger and into the grass of the school campus. No reason for anyone to think Margaret Rutherford was walking behind her, saw the mishap, and scooped up the little bauble for herself, although everyone knew that Margaret did love jewellery.

It didn't matter by then anyway. Christopher paid no mind to what his sisters thought of Margaret. After leaving Miss Pinkerton's, it was obvious by then she lacked the willowy grace to have a career in ballet, so while Christopher did his naval service she bided her time by going to university - nothing serious of course, just a bit of art appreciation. Then as soon as he started his career as a surgeon in a London hospital they were married. Daddy was pleased because Christopher was always proud that he was descended from a baronet and also some famous doctor or other, and that was all that mattered.

The first few years were wonderful. They were so electric together, a striking couple out on the town, unable to keep their hands off each other. And then Martin came along.

It wasn't quite true that he was an unwanted child. It was Marion who had a baby first – a boy named Malcolm.

The boy was golden blond, blue-eyed, rosy cheeked, and cherubic, and as the first grandchild he was the apple of his grandfather's eye. He was precocious and vivacious and was trotted out at social events to do a little song and dance for the delight of the guests and grandparents. Margaret was never fond of children but she couldn't help being taken with this one and how he was the centre of attention.

Christopher of course wanted a son to follow in his footsteps and carry on his family name and legacy. She had resisted until Malcolm was a toddler, then she decided it was time to give in to the pressure. If Marion had earned Daddy's approval by providing the perfect grandson then Margaret would have one that was more than perfect.

When Martin Christopher Ellingham was born, his father was beaming and giving out cigars right and left. Margaret on the other hand had hated being pregnant, hated giving birth, and was expecting a child that would make up for it all. She was to be greatly disappointed.

Martin was not golden cherubic blond, but a washed out towheaded child with disconcertingly large and pale blue-grey eyes. He was precocious but an enigma. By the time he was starting to walk he could already speak in full sentences, when he could be bothered to speak at all. He didn't like being trotted out in front of guests or being around any sort of social gathering, although he did seem fond of his aunts Ruth and Joan. He preferred looking at the pictures in his father's medical textbooks to the children's books the nannies read to him and he had a peculiar fascination with his father's wristwatch.

Worst of all, Margaret worked hard to regain her figure afterward but things were never quite the same. The spark with Christopher was lost, he began to stay out later, making excuses that he had paperwork to catch up with. Margaret kept busy going out to lunch with the other surgeons' wives and volunteering for the right sort of charity events, but her resentment of her child grew. Really he was such a nuisance, always clinging to her when she was around, making messes, and demanding her attention. She put him off to a succession of nannies, but always found fault with each and replaced them after a few months. Once Ruth had the nerve to accuse her of not wanting to mother her own child but refusing to let anyone else mother him in her place.

As the years went by, Malcolm grew into a handsome and charming young man, while Martin merely grew large and awkward. Really he was just a bit too tall for comfort, towering over his mother, and his ears and mouth seemed out of proportion to his face. His enormous feet seemed to get in his way, and he was generally a nuisance to have around. Though his father was pleased Martin shared his interest in medicine, he too was disappointed the boy had failed to inherit his extroverted personality.

When Malcolm was sent off to St. Benedict's at the age of nine, Margaret decided it was time for Martin to go too, although he was not quite seven. After all it was Daddy's alma mater and Christopher liked the idea that boarding school would impart discipline to his son and heir. By then Joan was living on the Cornwall farm with her country bumpkin husband and eager to have Martin come for visits during school holidays.

Margaret was just relieved to have him out from underfoot. Really, she was simply not at all fond of children.

To be continued…