Chapter 5
Our first three years
Three years we had to make every dollar do the work of two.
All through the summer holidays we worked at the
Boat Club in Dennis Port. It was hard work, but we were never
too tired to be kind to each other. I say 'kind' because there are
no words to describe our love and happiness together.
After the summer we found a 'cheap' flat near the
university. It was on the top floor of an old house and was
actually very expensive. But what could we do?
There weren't many flats around.
'Hey, Fratboy,' said Bella when we arrived there.
'Are you my husband or aren't you?'
'Of course I'm your husband.' I said.
'Show me, then.' (My God, I thought, in the street?)
'Carry me into our first home!' Bella laughed.
I carried her up the five steps to the front door.
'Why did you stop?' she asked. 'This isn't our home.
Upstairs, Fratboy!' Bella commanded.
There were twenty-four stairs up to our flat, and I had to
stop half-way.
'Why are you so heavy?' I asked her.
'Perhaps I'm expecting a baby.' she said.
'My God! Are you?' I asked.
'Ha! I frightened you then, didn't I?' Bella giggled.
'Well, yes, just for a second or two.' I admitted.
I carried her the rest of the way. There were very few
moments in those days when we were not worrying about
money. Very few, and very wonderful - and that moment
was one of them.
A food shop let us 'eat now, pay later', thanks to the
Cullen name. But our famous name did not help us in
Bella's work. The Head of the school thought we were rich.
'Of course, we can't pay our teachers very much,' said
Miss Whitman. 'But that won't worry you, Mrs. Cullen!'
Bella tried to explain that Cullens had to eat, just like
other people. Miss Whitman just laughed politely.
'Don't worry,' Bella said to me. 'We'll manage. Just learn
to like spaghetti.'
I did. I learned to like spaghetti and Bella learned lots of
different ways of cooking it. With Bella's pay from school,
and our money from our summer work and my holiday jobs,
we managed. Our lives had changed a lot, of course. There
was no more music for Bella. She had to teach all day, and
came home very tired. Then she had to cook dinner —
restaurants were too expensive for us. There were a lot of
films that we didn't see, and places and people that we didn't
visit. But we were doing OK.
One day a beautiful invitation arrived. It was for my father's
fiftieth birthday party.
'Well?' said Bella. I was in the middle of a thick law book
and did not hear her at first. 'Edward, he's reaching out to you.'
'No, he isn't. My mother wrote it. Now be quiet.
I'm studying. I've got exams in three weeks.'
'Edward, think. Fifty years old, dammit. How do you know
that he'll still be alive when you decide to forget your
stupid arguement?' Bella asked.
'I don't know, and I don't care. Now let me get on with
my work!' I said.
'One day,' said Bella, 'when you're having problems with
Edward Junior—'
'Our son won't be called Edward, you can be sure of that!'
I said angrily.
'You can call him Bozo if you like. But that child will feel
bad about you, because you were a big Harvard sportsman.
And by the time he goes to university, you'll probably be a
big, important lawyer!' She continued, 'Edward, your father
loves you, in the same way as you will love Bozo. But you
Cullens are so full of pride - you'll go through life thinking
that you hate each other. Now . .what about that invitation?'
'Write them a nice letter of refusal.' I said.
'Edward, I can't hurt your father like that . . . What's their
phone number?' Bella asked.
I told her and was at once deep in my law book again.
I tried not to listen to her talking on the telephone,
but she was in the same room, after all.
Suddenly I thought, How long does it take to say no?
'Edward?' Bella had her hand over the phone mouthpiece.
'Edward, do we have to say no?' she asked.
'Yes, we do. And hurry up, dammit!' I said.
'I'm terribly sorry,' she said into the telephone.
Bella covered the mouthpiece again and turned to me. 'He's very
hurt, Edward! Can you just sit there and let your father bleed?'
'Stones don't bleed, Bella. This isn't one of your warm,
loving, sweet policeman fathers.' I told her.
'Edward, can't you just speak to him?'
'Speak to him! Are you crazy?' I said.
She held the telephone towards me. She was trying not to cry.
'I will never speak to him. Ever,' I said.
Now she was crying, very quietly. Then Bella asked me once
more. 'For me, Edward. I've never asked you for anything.
Please.' Bella begged me.
I couldn't do it. Didn't Bella understand? It was just
impossible. Unhappily I shook my head. Then Bella spoke
to me quietly and very angrily. 'You have no heart,' she said.
She spoke into the telephone again. 'Mr. Cullen, Edward
wants you to know . . . ' She was crying, so it wasn't easy
for her. 'Edward loves you very much,' she said, and put the
telephone down quickly.
I don't know why I did it. Perhaps I went crazy for a moment.
Violently I took the phone and threw it across the room.
'Damn you, Bella! Why don't you get the hell out of my life?' I yelled.
I stood still for a second. My God, I thought, what's
happening to me? I turned to look at Bella. But she had gone.
I looked round the flat for her. Her coat was still there,
but she had disappeared.
I ran out of the house and searched everywhere for her:
the law school library, Radcliffe, the music school. Was Bella
in one of the music rooms? I heard somebody playing the
piano, loudly and very badly. Was it Bella? I pushed the
door open. A big Radcliffe girl was at the piano.
'What's the matter?' she asked.
'Nothing,' I answered, and closed the door again.
Where, oh where, had she gone? I felt terrible. I searched
the university, the streets and the cafes. Nothing. Had she
taken a bus to Cranston, perhaps? At midnight I called Charlie.
'Hello?' he said sleepily. 'What's the matter? Is Bella ill?'
My God, I thought, she isn't there! 'Bella's fine, Charlie.
Uh - I just called to say hello.' I told him.
'You should call more often, dammit,' he said.
'Is Cranston so far away that you can't come down
on a Sunday afternoon?'
'We'll come, some Sunday, Charlie, I promise.' I said.
'Don't give me that - "some Sunday" indeed!
This Sunday, Edward.' Charlie demanded
'Yes, sir. This Sunday.' I promised.
'And this time, I'll pay for the gas, dammit. OK?
Charlie hung up the phone. I stood there and wondered what
to do. At last I went back to the flat.
Bella was sitting on the top step. I was too tired to cry,
too glad to speak.
'I forgot my key,' said Bella.
I stood there on the bottom step. I was afraid to ask how
long she had been there. I only knew that I had hurt her
terribly.
'Bella, I'm sorry—'
'Stop Edward!' she said. Then she added, 'Love is forgiveness.'
We walked up to our flat. As we undressed, she looked
lovingly at me.
'I meant what I said, Edward.' Bella said softly.
And that was all.