by Anne Morice
‘How did she take it?’
‘Badly. Very badly, in fact. I try to console myself by remembering how much more quickly one gets over these things at her age, but of course we have to face the fact that there may be worse to come with Geoffrey, and that’s the part which upsets her most. She really dotes on the old boy.’
‘In spite of his being a man?’
‘Well, only in the technical sense. In some ways, he’s more like an elderly child. She feels protective about him and now, of course, she’s howling about bringing a lawsuit against Mrs Trelawney and getting her shut up in an asylum for the criminally insane.’
‘Might not be such a bad idea.’
‘Only rather difficult to put into practice. And we’ll have to go through the whole thing again with Marc on Friday. It hardly bears thinking about. I know this hasn’t been much fun for you, so far, Tessa, but I do hope you’ll stay and see me through the weekend?’
‘Certainly, if I can be of any use.’
‘The greatest possible. They both like you so much and you help to bridge the generation gap.’
It was agreed that I should stay at least until Monday and also that when Robin telephoned that evening I should invite him for the weekend.
Millie came downstairs about an hour later and it was evident that she had been crying, which was not something she was advised to indulge in often. Her slanting, blue-grey eyes, which were her most attractive feature, had almost disappeared inside her head.
Elsa had left out a dish of raw carrots and the rock-like loaf, but Millie had no appetite for them and announced in a hoarse voice that she was going for a walk. I suspected that the object was to pile Pelion on Ossa by making a personal inspection of the mutilated tree. Perhaps there was an element of masochism in this, but nevertheless I considered that she was probably wise to get the worst impact over as quickly as possible and I said that, if she had no objection, I would accompany her.
She did not, as I had anticipated, set off to the right in the direction of the valley and Geoffrey’s cottage, but led the way in the opposite direction, along an upward path through the woods.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked her.
‘Just along here for about half a mile. It comes out on the ridge and you can see right down over the valley.’
‘Yes, I remember. We used to have picnics there when you and Marc were tots.’
‘Still do.’
‘And you can see the oak tree from there, as I remember?’
‘Sort of aeroplane view of it. I want to get some idea of how bad it is before I . . .’
‘Zoom in for the close-up?’
‘Right!’
‘Listen, Millie, I know this sounds stuffy and patronising, but it’s not the end of the world, whatever you may think now. And I daresay even Mrs Trelawney will relent, or be scared into calling off the operation, when she hears about the havoc it’s caused. Then the tree will get back to its original glory eventually and Geoffrey may recover too.’
‘I’m not sure that I want him to. His life would be quite spoilt now.’
‘Oh, people are much more resilient than that. I do realise how shocking it will be for him initially, but there are other things in life besides trees, you know.’
‘But it isn’t only the tree, Tessa, it’s what it represents. It’s sort of like a permanent threat. None of the things we’ve always taken for granted seem to be safe any more.’
We were approaching the full sunlight at the edge of the wood by this time and she darted ahead on her own, as though anxious for the climax to be a solitary experience, going at a fair clip, too, considering her weight, and I did not attempt to keep pace with her.
When I caught up she was sitting on the grass, staring out over the open landscape, and hunger had evidently caught up with her too, because she was absent-mindedly pulling some rather wizened looking blackberries off a nearby bush and smiling them into her mouth.
‘No use, is it?’ she asked, without turning her head, as I plopped down beside her. ‘You don’t get any particular impression from here. I’ll have to see it on the same level to take it in properly. Would you come with me this afternoon? Ma and Louise ought to be through at the cottage by then. I couldn’t stand having them around, wringing their hands and worrying about whether I was going into hysterics or something. But I’d like to have you there, to give some moral support.’
Touched to the quick, I said, ‘Sure! And, what’s more, I’ve had an idea. Let’s take a camera with us.’
‘What for? I shan’t need reminders or souvenirs, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘No, it isn’t. What I’m thinking is something quite different. Which day does The Dedley Mercury come out?’
‘Friday.’
‘And today’s only Tuesday. That’s fine! I’ve brought one of those polaroid, instant things with me, so I should think we can just make it. And you can write the copy. Your mother tells me you plan to take a course in journalism when you leave school, so it’ll be good practice for you.’
‘What are you on about, Tessa?’
‘Publicity. It’s one of the most effective weapons there is in the civil disobedience game and I’ve picked up a few tips in my time. So here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go home now and ring up the editor of The Mercury and make an appointment with him, preferably for tomorrow morning.’
‘What makes you think he’ll buy it?’
‘I expect he will. It’s worth a try, anyway. He may just conceivably have seen my name on the credits, which might help to oil the wheels, but if necessary we can probably manage without that.’
‘What do we say then?’
‘That there’s been a serious outbreak of vandalism around here, which is bringing the local community to its knees and, furthermore, that we can produce photographs to illustrate one of the worst outrages. Incidentally, it might be worth getting one of Daisy, dangling her wounded paw and looking very forlorn and lovable.’
‘But won’t the old woman sue us for libel, or something?’
‘No, because we’ll stick firmly to facts, all of which can be proved. And, naturally, no names will be mentioned, simply a well placed hint or two that this is not the work of mindless hooligans, but a carefully planned campaign on the part of a powerful minority to destroy the environment. We shall also say that we have witnesses by the dozen to back us up and that an editorial on the subject in his fearless, hard-hitting, uncompromising journal will send the circulation figures whizzing up and keep the presses humming far into the night.’
‘Not half bad, Tessa! Better than sitting around and moping, anyway, and a million times better than that stupid brother of mine stamping about and threatening to commit murder, if he has to. Come on, let’s go home and get started on it!’
‘I’m really puzzled by Marc,’ I remarked as we tramped along. ‘You’d think a law student, of all people, would be a bit more discreet.’
‘You would, wouldn’t you? But it’s only the sort of wild, showing off joke he goes in for sometimes. At least, I hope that’s all it is. We agreed ages ago that non-violence was the only civilised answer to aggression, but of course that was before he got into the clutches of Diane.’
‘You think she may have influenced him in the other direction?’
‘Wouldn’t put it past her.’
‘Well, I haven’t met her, as you know, but she didn’t sound a particularly violent type from your mother’s description.’
‘Maybe not, but she’s a whiner and probably the kind who incites other people to violence, which is even more despicable. Actually, I think she’s either a complete fake or a bit mad.’
‘Really? In what way?’
‘When I said she was a whiner, I should have chosen my words more carefully because she never actually complains about anything. She’s more like – martyred, if you know what I mean? Always so sweet and patient and putting a brave face on everything. It’s enough to make you sick sometimes.’
‘Because you think it’s an act?’
‘Yes, I do; and not a half bad one, either. Everyone says she’s such a saint and they dash about doing everything they can to help her, while she just sits back and says how frightfully kind they are and never actually moves a muscle to help herself.’
‘Has she always been like that? I assume you’ve known each other since you were children?’
‘Oh, you bet! And she was always being held up to the rest of us as such a blasted model. I’ll tell you the kind of thing she used to do, Tessa. Some stupid kid at a party would burst its balloon and start howling and we’d all say Oh, bad luck! or Shut up! or something, but Diane would dash up and coo: “Oh, please don’t cry, darling, have mine! Oh, go on, you must, I don’t mind a bit!” Then all the mothers would say what a poppet she was and they’d give her two balloons as a reward. That was when she was about eight and she hasn’t changed one bit.’
Millie’s voice had taken on a most nauseating simper while she was imitating Diane, and I said, ‘I rather hope I don’t have to meet her.’
‘’Fraid you’re bound to, if you’re going to be here for the weekend. She’ll be round in a flash as soon as Marc arrives, gazing into his eyes and telling him how wonderful he is!’
‘I can see that he would find that rather intoxicating, specially after being bullied by you for most of his life.’
‘Well, I find it revolting and I think Ma does too, although nothing would induce her to admit it. Diane never stops jumping about and asking what she can do to help and saying how tired Ma looks and what a shame she doesn’t have anyone to help her, which is a side swipe at me, of course; and also treating her as though she was practically senile, which you can see getting on her nerves. And the end of it is that Diane never actually lifts a finger, although no one except me seems to notice that. I could really throttle her sometimes.’
I refrained from pointing out that it might be difficult to square this with the policy of non-violence and we spent the remaining few minutes of the walk discussing plans for our attack on the editor of The Dedley Mercury.
They could not be translated into action as speedily as we would have wished, though, because when we arrived back at the Grange Elsa had not returned, but we had a visitor. She was one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen, aged about nineteen or twenty and whose only flaw was in having teeth which were too small and babyish, showing far too much gum whenever she smiled, and smiling was something she went in for in rather a big way.
She was dowdily dressed in a limp looking, flowered cotton skirt and brown, hand-knitted cardigan. Whether this was because she lacked both money and taste I could not tell, but curiously enough it hardly detracted at all from her flaxen beauty, which was of that rare variety which needed no embellishment whatever. Whereas her personality would probably have been just as irritating if she had been got up like the star of a television spectacular and hung about with emeralds and pearls.
She was seated like Patience on a Sofa, with hands folded demurely on her lap and a sweet, sad expression on her face, but jumped up when we came into the room, the hands now outstretched and tears brimming in the huge violet-blue eyes. Her intention was evidently to embrace Millie, but it was one of those instances of she who kisses and she who turns the cheek, and Millie turned hers so fast that the kiss missed its target by inches.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, so aggressively as to dispel any remaining doubts about the identity of the visitor, who replied in a breathless, little-girl voice:
‘Oh, please don’t be cross with me for walking in like this, but the door was open, so I thought you might be back soon and I’m so dreadfully worried by all these rumours we’ve been hearing about poor old Mr Dearing. Do tell me, is it really true that he . . . ?’
‘Yes, it is, but why aren’t you at work? Have you got the sack or something?’
‘Oh no, although I’m afraid it may come to that, if I have to stay away too long. I can’t help it though. This is one of those times when I simply have to put poor Mummy first.’
‘Why? Is she ill again? This is Tessa Price, by the way, also known as Theresa Crichton. Tessa, allow me to present Diane Hearne.’
‘Oh, how do you do, Mrs Price? How simply super to meet you! Goodness, what an unexpected thrill! No, not ill exactly, Millie, just a wee bit run down and depressed. Daddy and I both think that what she needs is a little holiday, so I’ve told them I shan’t be coming in to the office for a few days and tomorrow morning I’m going to take her down to stay with her sister in Bexhill. It’s only a tiny bungalow, but we’ll manage somehow and I shan’t mind a bit sleeping on the floor,’ Diane informed us, modestly lowering her eyes, as though to acknowledge our applause, which in fact was silent.
‘Does my brother know you’re going?’
‘No, not yet. It was all fixed up in such a hurry. I’ve written a tiny note for him, though, and I wondered if you’d be an angel and put it in his room for me?’
‘Okay, but why not ring him up and explain? Why leave it till he gets here to find out?’
Diane, looking pained, did not reply and Millie waited.
‘Well, if you must know, Millie. . . . Well, I expect it’s hard for you to understand, because you’ve never been in this situation, I’m thankful to say, but things are rather difficult at home just now. Money problems, among other things, and I’m trying to be most fearfully careful and not use the telephone unless it’s for something absolutely vital. Sorry to be such a bore about all these family troubles,’ she added, turning to me, with a rueful smile this time, ‘I’d so much rather talk about you, and your wonderful glamorous life, but Millie never gives one any peace until she’s dragged out all the shameful secrets.’
‘I am not bored in the least,’ I assured her, ‘never less so.’
If the object had been to shame Millie into silence for her lack of sensitivity, it could not be said to have succeeded, because she said, ‘Then why not use our telephone? Go on, call him up now! Ma won’t mind a bit.’
‘Oh no, I couldn’t possibly,’ Diane said hurriedly and speaking, it seemed to me, spontaneously for the first time.
‘Why not? You can use the upstairs extension, if you don’t want us to hear.’
‘It’s not that, but . . . well, I mean, he’ll be working now, won’t he?’
‘Only slogging away at home for the exam, all alone in his mean little bedsitter. He’ll be thrilled if you interrupt him.’
‘No, Millie dear, thank you very much, but I’d rather not. I know you mean to be kind, but I’m so awfully stupid at explaining things on the telephone and I’ve put it all in my note. Besides, Mummy needs me at home, to help her pack. She gets into a frightful flap if I’m not there to tell her what she’ll need, poor darling. So thanks again, but I really must dash now.’
And dash she did, out of the room and out of the house, as one pursued by a bear.
‘Something fishy there,’ Millie remarked when she had gone.
‘I agree.’
‘Honestly, Tessa? Gosh that makes me feel better!’
She looked better too. The flush of pleasure, added now to the light of battle in her eye, did marvels for her complexion and the sullen droop of her mouth had temporarily disappeared. It was gratifying, but at the same time slightly baffling that one simple observation could have brought about such a transformation.
Millie explained: ‘You see, I had really begun to be afraid that I was getting obsessions about her and that, underneath, I’m just plain old jealous, because she’s so beautiful and has such a wonderful figure and everyone thinks she’s such an unselfish little dream boat. All the things in fact which I’m not.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t call her beautiful,’ I said.
‘Good for you! That’s nice to hear too, but most people do, you know.’
‘She’s pretty, I admit, but it’s not the kind that lasts. She’ll be quite ordinary looking in another fifteen or twenty years
, whereas you’ll always be all right because you’ve got good bones.’
I felt rather daring in saying this, because the sad truth was that, now that Millie was padded out with so much excess weight, it was impossible to tell whether her bones were good or bad, or indeed whether she had any; but I was rewarded for my courage by her entranced expression and felt almost grateful to Diane for providing this unique opportunity to get my morale building programme off to a good start. I had to be careful not to lay it on too thick, however, so reverted to her opening remark.
‘What, in your view, was so specially fishy about it?’
‘Oh, all those daft excuses for not using the telephone. It doesn’t cost such a terrible lot to ring London after six o’clock and, anyway, she could have gone to a call box and used her own money; or reversed the charges, if she’d wanted to. Marc would be the last one to complain about that. It just didn’t ring true.’
‘I agree; and did you notice what a tearing hurry she was in to get away, as soon as you started arguing with her? It seemed to me that she’d been unprepared for that kind of cross-examination. She assumed we’d accept that she was being ultra-thoughtful and leave it at that. There was something else, too.’
‘Yes, there was. I bet you all that stuff about having to take her mother to Bexhill is just an excuse for a bit of lead-swinging. She hates having to work in that crummy solicitor’s office in Dedley. She’s always telling everyone that she feels so stifled and starved of fresh air, but the truth is that she’s terrifically lazy.’
‘That I wouldn’t know, but there’s one thing I am able to tell you from first-hand observation. Although she said that her main reason for coming here this morning was to enquire about Geoffrey, it may not have escaped you that, in fact, she never mentioned him again? She scampered away without waiting to find out whether he was alive or dead.’
‘Yes, so she did! She’s up to something and no mistake. How about steaming that letter open?’