“Oh you are a silly old thing, but your my silly old thing and I promise I am not going to leave you, do you hear me? But you have to stop all this nonsense and I won’t have my beautiful Georgie behaving like a fishwife. Good Lord, you’ll be throwing my underwear out of the window and into the hydrangeas next, and we can’t have that. What would Ernest say and worse, Sandy?” He rocked Georgie in his arms and waited as the sobs subsided.
“Now come on, pull yourself together and let’s make a little plan. I think you and I need some time together, just the two of us somewhere special, like the old days. How does that sound?” Kenneth kissed the top of Georgie’s hair that he could tell hadn’t been washed, ignoring the odour of sweat and stale booze and cigarettes.
He also ignored the pang of doubt because despite her present state, maybe Georgie was right. What they had, their fantasy world, was slipping away and their bubble of love could be in danger and about to be popped. There was something else too, that twisted his gut as Georgie accepted a handkerchief and blew her nose, already perkier at the thought of some alone time.
Kenneth knew things were moving fast with Simon and their torrid affair was turning into something much more and whilst he remained loyal to Georgie, his heart was being tugged in two directions. Much worse, was that his wife was formidable when faced with a challenge but he feared in Simon, she might meet her match. When his young lover found out about whatever plans they were about to make he wouldn’t take kindly to them, not at all.
By some miracle, whether it was down to Kenneth’s conciliatory prowess or the patient guile of his wife and lover, a truce was negotiated and for a while he managed to keep both happy. Simon vowed to respect Kenneth’s arrangement with Georgie and agreed that Vanessa’s happiness was paramount, while Georgie vowed to uphold her side of their original bargain and allow her husband certain freedoms. Unbeknown to Kenneth, both Georgie and Simon made identical vows of their own, swearing silent oaths to be victorious and keep the man they loved just for themselves.
Peace and harmony reigned for over a year but as Georgie always feared, the desires of man were destined to win out and despite her best efforts, which entailed being less reliant on the pills and laying off the booze, her hold on Kenneth loosened. She had tried to be jolly and fun but it was becoming harder to fake it, fake everything really. Georgie knew she was turning into the bitter has-been actress who ironically had never actually been one in the first place. Her love life was a tacky sitcom, always the bit-part actress who was happy to take the throw away lines and cast of jokes that the real stars had no use for. Just like philandering husbands and fickle gigolos who moved on to the next amoral or sad candidate, leaving Georgie to straighten her skirt and laugh off the shame she felt inside.
Oh how she tried to ignore the loneliness that crept about inside her head as one by one, her group settled down or moved away, or grew up. Georgie was almost forty and felt every single year of it. Whilst their friends were always on hand for a gossipy chat on the blower or a party at Tenley or Kensington, and never said no to a free holiday, the shallow existence that had once seemed a riot was wearing thin. It left Georgie unsettled and for the first time, out of control and on the edge of her marriage and if she wasn’t careful, her mind.
By 1984, the year of Vanessa’s twenty-first birthday, the little crack in Georgie and Kenneth’s marriage was turning into a chasm. Georgie knew it was time. They couldn’t live a lie any longer and before she lost her sanity or her liver, because as Doctor Humphrey had suggested, the pills of paradise and special water were not helping one jot, something had to give. Georgie knew it had to be her.
After losing the best part of a week to a bottle of vodka and her husband to his Oxford pretty boy, Georgie had managed to pull herself together just in time to throw Vanessa the most fabulous birthday party the county had ever seen. Her daughter, on the other hand had insisted on a sensible do with the usual suspects from London and a few of her own friends, those who Vanessa joked were desperate enough to attend.
Over the years, mainly due to Georgie’s lack of patience where pandering to silly women was concerned, the local in-crowd had petered off. Nowadays, Vanessa was left with what could only be described as the rejects from school, those who were also left on the shelf. Sometimes, Georgie wondered if Sandy had been right after all and an attempt to take Vanessa in hand should have been made, but then again she seemed happy enough with her lot. She was a big girl, in more ways than one and eating habits aside, Georgie felt she had done her best to ease Vanessa through a difficult childhood so it was high time she took control of her own destiny. Anyway, Georgie had enough on her plate with the Simon problem and unfortunately, since her dalliance with a regiment officer from Kew, in her belly.
As she dressed for Vanessa’s birthday bash, Georgie took a gulp of brandy. It helped with her chest which was prone to flare ups and always resulted in a tiresome period of malaise that dragged her down. That was the last thing she needed, what with bloody Christmas just weeks away and the looming anniversary of dear Dolly’s death. It was all frying Georgie’s brain. Something had to give and unfortunately, it was the birthday guest list that did it.
Kenneth came darting into the dressing room, fiddling with his shirt buttons and asked Georgie to fasten his bow tie. “Darling, could you do the honours?”
Smiling at the sight of her husband in his dinner suit, Georgie left fastening her earrings and set about tying the knot, and as she did so, Kenneth asked her a question, a statement really, and one that flipped her world on its axis. He had broken the rules.
“By the way, I’ve invited Simon to the party. He’s staying with the Squires so I thought it would be rude not to include him, one more won’t matter, will it?” When Kenneth caught the look in Georgie’s eyes he could tell instantly that it would.
The silence was unnerving as his wife thought long and hard before replying, never taking her eyes from his while her hands deftly tied the bow, just as she’d done hundreds of times before.
“Yes, it does matter, Kenneth, because you’re breaking the rules.”
“B… but it’s just a party, darling. He won’t be staying over. I wouldn’t even consider–” Kenneth was cut off by Georgie who refused to listen to another word on the matter, pulling hard on the tie, causing his neck to jerk before she spoke.
“No. It’s not just a party. It’s our daughter’s twenty-first and a very special occasion, one I wish to remember always as perfect. Therefore I will not allow the presence of your lover to taint it in any way so I would be grateful if you could telephone him immediately and revoke the invitation. Now, Kenneth.” Georgie glared.
Her lips felt numb and her face she knew would be white with anger. Georgie ignored the fear in her heart, terrified that it would rise up and consume her if she acknowledged its existence or the ramifications of Kenneth’s refusal.
Knowing when to back down, Kenneth nodded curtly but even though he acquiesced for the sake of Vanessa’s special birthday, this time it rankled and it showed in his face, just before he nodded, turned sharply and left the room.
Georgie spotted it too.
To the untrained eye and champagne soaked guest, the party was a resounding success. The band played all their favourite songs, Laurie arrived from Los Angeles looking suntanned yet ravaged by some strange disease that was eating the gay community alive. He assured Georgie he would be fine and just needed rest but there was something about his eyes that told her he was lying. There was a lot of it about.
Kenneth made a wonderful speech about his darling daughter, and Georgie got her photograph for the top of the piano. It would take pride of place next to the one of the Princess. But as soon as the flashlights pointed in other directions, Georgie’s guard came down and Kenneth sloped off to a corner with the estate manager, the cool manner he’d adopted all evening turning slowly to ice. Vanessa was happily giggling with her friends as they waited for the hot buffet supper to be laid out so Georgie re
verted to type and took solace in a bottle of champagne. The London set just didn’t do it for her anymore.
As she made her way upstairs, Georgie stopped and took in the scene. Sandy was asking Vanessa if they could have a photograph, how sweet, especially as the dear dowdy woman looked so out of place and uncomfortable in a room full of black liquorice sticks and brightly coloured lollipops. Shaking away the phantasmal image, Georgie knew that the pills she downed in the bathroom were playing havoc with her brain and the champagne wasn’t helping either. Still, she wouldn’t be missed so it would be nice to escape to oblivion, away from the chill of her husband’s stare.
When she reached the first landing, instead of heading to her bedroom, Georgie continued higher, to the top floor where Sandy slept. After passing her closed bedroom door, Georgie carried on to the end of the thin dimly lit corridor and the long sash window that opened onto the parapet that ran around the roof. Feeling the need for air and to spread her wings, a strange notion seeing as though it was November and bloody freezing, Georgie ignored sound advice from the unpickled cortex of her brain and pulled up the sash, gasping slightly as the ice-cold wind whipped at her hair and froze her skin. Regardless, she ducked under the frame and dragged her legs and evening gown through the gap before standing and walking the couple of feet to the edge.
“Gosh,” said Georgie. “What a long way down.”
The Rollers and Jags parked on the drive below looked like toy cars. It made Georgie feel slightly dizzy so instead she looked straight ahead, over the tops of the trees and beyond the Tenley estate, with its sweeping fields and cosy cottages where lights blazed and happy families sat by their fires. That image was bloody depressing so Georgie tipped back her head and gazed at the sky above. The heavens were velvet black and dotted with stars, like the ones that should have hung on her dressing room door in the West End and every theatre across the land, even Times Square.
Staggering slightly on her heels, Georgie praised herself for having the common sense to kick them off and as one flipped over the edge, it made her laugh. Bending slowly, so as not to follow suit, she picked up the other shoe and hurled it as far as she could. Down below she heard a thud causing her to smile contentedly, hoping it had landed on Kenneth’s precious Bentley and left a dent in the roof.
“Lordy, it’s cold!” Georgie shouted to the moon. The wind was getting up as she took a long swig from the bottle, the fizzy liquid escaping down her chin and neck, disappearing into her cleavage and staining her dress. Spreading her arms out wide, Georgie closed her eyes and allowed the cold northerly to ruffle her Balenciaga dress as strands of hair came loose from its clasp. She was lost in a frozen world, a bird ready for flight perched on the edge of a cliff and perhaps just one more sip would give her the courage to leap and fly, soar across the tree-tops and up to heaven. Dolly would be there waiting with a fish supper and strong sweet tea, how wonderful that would be.
Placing the bottle to her lips, Georgie drank and took a step forward. Her feet were stinging from the cold of the parapet roof, the felt was harsh under her skin. One more step, dare she? Just as the thought penetrated the fuzz in her head, it was interrupted by the sound of a voice, sharp and familiar, somewhere behind her. Turning slowly, Georgie swayed and tried to focus, the light from the hall casting the body at the window into shadow. As the voice called out again, this time Georgie recognised it; Sandy.
“Madam, Georgie, please come inside at once. It’s very dangerous out there and you will catch your death. Here, take my hand, that’s it. Step forward, nice and slow.” Sandy held out her hand.
“Sandy, how lovely to see you… Why aren’t you at the party getting sloshed like everyone else? Off you go. I’ll be fine out here, although I must say you’re right. It’s brass monkeys. My nipples are like torpedoes but don’t tell anyone, it can be our secret… Sssh.” Georgie was beginning to giggle as she placed her fingers over her lips and soon her mirth turned to mild hysteria, building by the second.
“Georgie. I insist you come inside otherwise I will have to fetch Kenneth and we don’t want to ruin Vanessa’s party now, do we?” Sandy held out both hands and watched as Georgie swayed on the edge of the parapet, her rival’s close proximity to death evident.
Georgie took another drink but most of it she spat out as angry words mixed with champagne. “Ha… he won’t come and save me. Kenneth doesn’t care a jot about me, not anymore.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Georgie. Mr Tenley loves you very much and would be horrified to see you out here so please, come inside.”
Sandy’s voice served only to irritate Georgie. “Aren’t you listening? I said he doesn’t love me anymore, in fact he never has, not properly, like a real man should. I bet you didn’t know that, did you?” Another emboldening swig and a slight sway preceded her next tirade.
“My Kenneth can’t get it up, not up me, anyway, but he has no trouble when he’s shafting darling pretty boy Simon, who wants to take everything and ruin my life.” Georgie pointed at Sandy.
“You just mark my words, I’m going to ring pretty boy Simon tomorrow and tell him he can have good old Kenneth. He can have the lot. Just like fucking China can have fucking Hong Kong. They can both go to hell… Isn’t that where sodomites go, Sandy, to burn in hell’s fire?”
For a moment, Sandy said nothing and her silence gave Georgie the opportunity to continue, thoroughly enjoying her role as the injured party who had pushed the self-destruct button and was going for broke. Georgie basked in the spotlight before a captive audience of one.
“Well? I’m waiting Mrs Churchy-Pants. And what about me, what’ll happen to me because I’m no saint either? Where do dirty whores go? Is there a special hell for an adulterer, and what about a murderer? They definitely go downstairs, surely they do.” Georgie was angry but on the verge of tears, her voice catching in the wind.
“Georgie, enough of this! I do not wish to hear another word of your sordid confession or such foul unladylike language and I can only hope it is the drink talking. Now for the last time, come inside or I shall call for Kenneth.”
Sandy leaned forward, her body hanging out of the window, touching the silk of Georgie’s flowing gown as she waited, her stern look practised on Vanessa as a young and obstinate child. Maybe it was her tone or the bitter wind, or the talk of death that had a sobering effect on Georgie but something broke the spell and made her see sense. Grasping the outstretched hand, Georgie stumbled towards Sandy and fell to her knees, the top half of her body at the window’s edge, face to face with her rescuer who held on tight from the corridor. But Georgie wasn’t finished.
“You have been so kind to me, Sandy. All these years you have been such a good friend and helped me so much with the house and Vanessa, everything really. Which is why I owe you the truth, you deserve to know that I am a bad person, the very worst because each and every word I said is true. I have behaved like a whore. You would be shocked at what I would do for a bottle of scent or a handbag, and I am an adulterer and worse, a murderer.” Georgie knelt before Sandy, dropping the bottle then grasping her hands tightly as tears flowed from stinging eyes, pinching her skin as they fell.
“If you can forgive me, Sandy, perhaps I have a chance… You understand about God and his rules so maybe you can put a word in for me, he will listen to you, I know he will.” Georgie was becoming hysterical, rambling and almost incoherent, sobbing and gasping as Sandy asked a question, her voice incredulous.
“What do you mean a murderer? You’re confused and very drunk, Georgie. Please tell me you are.”
“I will be a murderer. I am going to kill, very soon. Don’t you see I have made a terrible mistake and my wicked behaviour has left me no alternative.”
Sandy gasped, then in a hushed tone asked the most obvious question. “Who are you going to kill, Georgie, and why, what have you done?”
“The baby, the one inside me… I have to get rid of it. I can’t be a mother, not like this. I’m a useless wretch,
a stinking alcoholic who can’t get through the day without a happy pill. What type of mother would I be? No, it has to go, the sooner the better.” Georgie’s face was awash with tears which she wiped from her eyes and in doing so was able to see Sandy more clearly, and the dark look that had crossed her face.
It was as though a shadow was sweeping downwards and the eyes that once implored her to come inside, and seemed kind and understanding were hard and cold, just like her face which was set in stone. Georgie’s teeth chattered and her lips trembled and whereas before she was insistent on remaining outside, she sensed danger and animosity and the parapet edge seemed far too close. Sandy simply stared, her immobility and silence unnerving Georgie further, prompting her to speak.
“Let me inside now, Sandy, and go and find Kenneth. I need to speak to Kenneth so move aside. I’m cold, please move, I want to come in. Sandy!” Georgie was forced to raise her voice that held a hint of panic because for a split second, she feared that Sandy wasn’t going to move, she looked so hateful and angry. Then a voice from along the corridor cut through the hush, it was Vanessa and the sound of her calling for Georgie prompted Sandy into action. As she stood and held out her hand, Georgie saw Vanessa appear in the corridor and called out to her for help.
Vanessa took in the scene, catching her breath after the climb, her shocked face turning to panic as she ran to Georgie’s aid and along with Sandy, helped the trembling, frozen wreck inside.
“Thank you, Sandy. I will take it from here. Could you go and tell Daddy I need him. I’ll look after Georgie until he arrives. Thank you so much for looking after her, you’ve been an angel.” Vanessa guided Georgie towards the stairs, rubbing her skin as they walked, trying to get some warmth into her.
“Yes of course. I’ll go ahead and do take care on the stairs. I wouldn’t want either of you to fall.” With that, Sandy went in search of Kenneth while behind her, Georgie sobbed and apologised, for what was anyone’s guess. Her words were unintelligible, garbled and lost amongst Vanessa’s assurances and shushing sounds.
The Secrets of Tenley House Page 20