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Ann Troup - The Philosophy of Disgrace

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Ann Troup The Philosophy of Disgrace

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The Philosophy of Disgrace
By
Ann Troup

Edited by Frankie Sutton

Copyright Ann Troup 2011

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Prologue

Valerie Porter had been fond of blanketstatements that set others indelibly in their places. Proud of herinsights into the characters of others she had set out herchildrens traits like a script. As if they were pickles in jars,all three of her daughters had been indelibly labelled andpreserved by her assertions. Frances was the clever one, as opposedto Stella who Valerie deemed useless, and of course Rachel, who wasjust downright difficult.

Did all parents like to define theiroffspring, leaving their children floundering and typecast? Rachel,in particular felt imperfectly moulded by her family, a skewedversion of the woman she should have been. An inconvenient, bitpart player in the drama that had been her life.

These were Rachels thoughts on the day shereceived her second letter from Frances. The contention moulded anddelivered by her mothers tongue still echoed in her mind, so muchso that she had completely ignored Frances first missive, theletter that had informed her of Valeries demise. This secondcommunication was a demand that she return home and assist withsorting out her mothers affairs. Instinct told her to tear it up,put it in the bin, and pretend that it had never arrived. However,something tugged at her conscience enough to make her contemplategoing back, even if it was only to make sure that Valerie reallywas gone.

Only when she was sitting on the train, whenit was too late to turn back and take refuge again, did she allowherself to think about the disappointment that had been Valerieslife. Valerie had married William Porter in 1960, inheriting Stellafrom him, bringing Frances with her, according to Delia Jones, theperson who had known Valerie the longest, and also the only personwho would have dared discuss her in such terms;. Rachel had arrivedin 1967, a day before her father died. More of Valeries words,accompanied by a wan sigh and a sad expression, had often describedhow William had hung on just long enough to know Rachel had madeher entrance into the world.

On the occasion of her marriage, Valerie hadalso inherited the real object of her desire, Williams familyhome, The Limes. It was an imposing residence long coveted byValerie as the house of her dreams. The Limes was one of the moreimpressive buildings that edged the park, and it occupied thecorner plot of one of the more desirable roads in town. Ever sinceshe had first glimpsed the tall chimneys and the statelypretensions of the house, having spied it from the top deck of abus, Valerie had fantasised about it. She conjured up a threedimensional image of herself living in that house where she couldwaft about in rooms that were called morning, drawing and dining.Having grown up in a two up, two down, back-to-back terrace, suchpretentious notions meant a great deal to her. So, at the age offourteen when she had left school and started in the wages officeof Porter and Son Engineering, she had made it her sole business tobecome an invaluable asset to and Son. Her diligence andcommitment did not go unnoticed and at eighteen, she became WilliamPorters personal secretary, just in time to congratulate him onhis engagement to Elizabeth Roache.

Valeries reaction to this blow was to allowReg Bowen, the boy next door, to indulge his persistent and amorousattentions. Which, prior to Williams engagement, she had haughtilyrejected on an almost daily basis.

The result of her liaison with Reg was afoetal Frances, followed by the hasty purchase of a wedding ringfrom Woolworths, which she wore for appearances sake. Regsresponse to the situation was to show rather more enthusiasm forthe prospect of National Service than he had hitherto expressed,which he promptly backed up by donning uniform and going off todrive a lorry around Palestine. When he came back, he ignoredFrancess existence and married a girl he had met in the NAAFI.

Valerie was left with the baby, a green stainon her finger where the rolled gold had worn off the ring, and areputation that she spent the rest of her life trying to shakeoff.

The opportunity to reestablish her presencein Williams life came when she read in the hatched matched anddispatched column of the local paper that Elizabeth had died.Valerie sent her condolences, then followed them up with a sombreand sympathetic visit to her former employer, and then followedthat with another and then another.

William had been grateful to Valerie. He hadloved his fragile girlish wife and had been distraught when shedied. Stella, the daughter they had produced, was dazed and alittle lost under the circumstances. Williams mother Venetia, awoman who due to Alzheimers, slipped in and out of time, couldbarely remember that Elizabeth had existed. Therefore, she was moreof a liability than a help. Valerie was a godsend, she appointedherself as Williams help meet, pandered to the mother, fed andwatered the daughter, and soothed Williams ego to such an extentthat he began to believe that he couldnt do without her. Sixmonths after Elizabeths funeral, they married.

Socially, marrying Valerie had been a hugefaux pas. Elizabeth had been popular and was much missed andmourned with quiet dignity by the social circle that the Porterclan had carefully nurtured. Valeries eagerness to fillElizabeths shoes, coupled with her coarse pretensions did not godown well amongst the local ladies, and the increasing knowledgethat Porter and Son had its back to the wall did nothing to endearthe men. Williams mother, Venetia, soon alienated the few friendsthat did maintain contact.

People who had known the family in theirheyday dined out for years on the story of Venetia Porters fallfrom grace. Rumour had it that some ladies had been invited tolunch at The Limes, which, curious to see the new Mrs. Porter inaction, they had deigned to attend. Old Mrs. P, former mainstay ofthe WI and pillar of the community, appeared to be having a badday, much to the embarrassment of new Mrs. P, who it had to besaid, had tried a little too hard to impress. The pinnacle of theoccasion had been when the old lady had been caught short duringlunch and she had used the coalscuttle as a piss pot, to the publichorror and the private amusement of all the ladies present.

After old Mrs. Ps party piece, The Limesbecame a social wasteland. Invitations sent were never accepted andnone was ever received by Valerie. Williams business, so lovinglybuilt by his father, went rapidly downhill under his patheticallyinadequate management, and only narrowly escaped falling into thehands of the Official Receiver by being bought for a song by one ofWilliams business rivals. It was a harsh blow, and one thatWilliam decided was better considered if he viewed it through thebottom of a brandy bottle.

Valeries disappointment was both bitter andtangible, the life she had dreamed of for all those years hadturned into a nightmare. All she had tried to do was better herselfand all she had achieved was to land herself with a pennilessdrunkard with a mouse of a daughter and a witless old hag for amother.

By then, she had managed to enrol Frances atthe same modest prep school that Stella attended. Frances was abright child, academically adept and supremely confident. Incomparison, Stella was timid, average and in Valeries mind notworthy of investment. Stella was taken out of her private schooland placed in the local primary; the money saved in fees was spenton finding a genteel residential home for Venetia. Frances, whoshowed promise, remained at the prep school.

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