Prudence

by Jilly Cooper

  ‘Pru, that’s marvellous! When? For how long? What on earth did he say? Tell me all. He must be serious, to take you home to meet his mother.’

  I muttered something about chickens before they’re hatched. But I found it difficult in the next few days to keep my mounting elation in check, and wrote Prudence Mulholland all over my shorthand notebook.

  Chapter Four

  Jane became very bossy.

  ‘If Pendle says his mother is formidable, she must be a tartar. She’s bound to go through your things when you and Pendle are striding over the Fells, to see if you’re a slut or not. You’d better buy some new underwear — I counted two safety pins in your bra — and a new nightie, in case Pendle comes stealing down those dark passages after lights out.’

  ‘You must be joking,’ I said, but I could not suppress a shiver of excitement.

  In the end, she did my packing for me.

  ‘Tissue paper always impresses people,’ she said. ‘And lots of little polythene bags for your sweaters.’ She insisted that I bought a pair of lace-up shoes.

  ‘But I’ve got a perfectly good pair of boots,’ I wailed.

  ‘Kinky,’ she added darkly. She lent me a silk dress, but refused to let me take any of my more outrageous clothes.

  ‘You want to borrow them while I’m away,’ I grumbled. ‘I’ll look such a frump, Pendle won’t recognize me.’ But I managed to sneak in my green culotte dress when she wasn’t looking.

  ‘Now remember,’ she warned me, ‘lots of housework, clean the bath, don’t wipe your make-up off on the towel and, for God’s sake, don’t smoke in bed. These old houses burn down very easily. You’d better take my knitting too.’

  ‘But I can’t knit,’ I protested.

  ‘That doesn’t matter. Just take it out of its bag from time to time and count a few stitches. It gives the right impression.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about it,’ I said nastily. ‘Where did it get you?’

  ‘The mothers adored me,’ she said airily. ‘It was the sons who went off me.’

  Pendle picked me up at the office about five. He was wearing a dark grey sweater, which emphasized his pallor.

  ‘If we don’t hit heavy traffic,’ he said, putting my luggage in the boot, ‘we should be there by nine.’

  He was smoking incessantly and seemed very much on edge. We didn’t talk much, then my tummy started rumbling. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  ‘There’s a slab of chocolate in the back,’ he said. I found it and, as Pendle wasn’t hungry, wolfed the lot and then felt sick.

  ‘Before we get there,’ I said, licking my fingers, ‘can we sort your family out a bit?’

  ‘Pretty complicated,’ he said, ‘but I’ll try and explain. My father, as you know, is dead, and I’m the eldest. Then there’s my sister Linn, who has emotional problems and works in Manchester, so she probably won’t be there. Then there’s my younger brother Jack. He’s only twenty-eight but he’s already on his second marriage. He used to be a terrible rake, but he’s running the family firm now and seems to have settled down. With Jack you have to take the smooth with the smooth, but you’ll like him. Everyone does.’ There was a trace of bitterness in his voice.

  ‘What’s his wife like?’ I asked.

  ‘Maggie? Very young, very spoilt. I don’t think she’s very nice but, like Jack, you can’t help liking her. They’re staying with my mother until their house is built.’

  ‘So there’ll be your mother, Maggie and Jack,’ I said, ticking them off on my fingers.

  ‘And, to confuse you further, there might be Ace.’

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘My step-brother. My father was married before, but his wife died when Ace was a baby.’

  ‘Poor little boy. Who brought him up?’

  ‘My father wasn’t the sort to stay a widower long. He married my mother almost immediately, and we were all brought up together.’

  ‘Is he married too?’

  ‘Ace? He was — but his wife was killed in a car crash two years ago. She was driving to meet him at the airport. The roads were icy.’

  ‘Oh, how awful,’ I said.

  ‘Ghastly. Particularly as she was pregnant. He absolutely worshipped her. We all did. We never thought anyone would be good enough for Ace, but she was.’

  Pendle had never sounded so enthusiastic about anyone.

  ‘What did he do after that?’

  ‘He was working for Panorama in London, then he landed a job in New York for American television. He roves all over the world. He hasn’t been home since Elizabeth died, but my mother said he might possibly be back this weekend.’

  The conversation dwindled. I slept fitfully, and wondered if it would be worth letting my head slip on to Pendle’s shoulder, but thought better of it. As a few stars made a tentative appearance, I speculated about Pendle’s brothers — Jack, the reformed rake whom everyone liked; Ace, whom no one was good enough to marry.

  A slim white moon slipped between the stars. We were now driving over cobbled streets. When we stopped for petrol, a blast of icy wind came through the door.

  ‘Not far now,’ said Pendle. ‘We’ll be there in twenty minutes.’ The hills began to grow into mountains. I’ve always been frightened by mountains, and I suddenly shivered as I wondered what I really knew about the silent, withdrawn man beside me. I put on some scent to give me confidence. Beside the road, there was a gleam of silver.

  ‘That’s Grasmere,’ he said. A few minutes later, he swung off the road up a winding drive.

  The headlights showed heavy undergrowth, and brambles hanging in festoons on either side.

  ‘Here we are,’ he said, hooting his horn.

  I could only see that the house was large and hung with creepers. As we opened the car doors a black labrador and a large English setter came bounding out, wagging their tails and barking amiably. The front door opened and we were flooded in a stream of light. I was quaking with nerves as I saw an old woman standing in the doorway. She had an apron on. Pendle’s mother. I walked forward smiling.

  ‘Hello, Mr Pendle,’ she wheezed. Obviously not Pendle’s mother.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Braddock,’ said Pendle.

  ‘It’s good to see you back, after so long. Come into the warm.’

  Mrs Mulholland must be a cold customer, I thought, not to come rushing out to welcome him. I knew what my mother was like whenever I came home. I followed Mrs Braddock into the hall, which was huge and baronial and covered in faded crimson wallpaper.

  ‘I’ll just help Mr Pendle with the cases,’ she said.

  A moment later, Pendle followed me. He looked furious — a muscle was twitching in his cheek.

  ‘I’m afraid my family aren’t here. They’ve gone to a party in Ambleside. So we’d better eat now. I’ll show you your room. I expect you’d like a wash.’

  I’d been so steamed up to meet his mother, it was a terrible anti-climax. I followed him upstairs, along a dark, winding passage to my room.

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s frightfully cold in here,’ he said, drawing the curtains and turning up the central heating. If only he had taken me in his arms then and there everything might have been all right.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ I said. ‘I’ll just clean up and come down.’

  On closer inspection, I found it wasn’t at all lovely. None of the drawers had been cleaned out: there was only one broken coat-hanger — and even I, who never noticed dust, couldn’t miss the thick coating on the dressing table. I couldn’t imagine my mother having anyone to stay and not giving them flowers. The only compensation was the large double bed. I was strangely chilled by that room. However I re-did my face and calmed my wild curls abit.

  In the dining-room I found places had been laid for Pendle and me at opposite ends of a long table. Mrs Braddock served us watery soup. It’s incredibly difficult to drink soup quietly in a huge empty room, and then we had stale game pie, and cold potatoes which stuck in my throat. Luckily, Pendle opened a
bottle of wine.

  ‘Mrs Braddock’s been with us for years. Her husband looks after the garden and the stables. I don’t know who else would put up with my mother.’

  The two dogs sat on either side of me, drooling at the mouth. Then the setter put a large speckled paw on my knee.

  ‘They’re lovely,’ I said. ‘What are they called?’

  ‘Wordsworth and Coleridge,’ said Pendle. ‘Coleridge is the setter. I don’t expect anyone’s remembered to feed them.’

  I was relieved when he picked up both his and my game pie, gave one to each dog and then lit the inevitable cigarette. The wine was stealing down me, and I began to perk up.

  We had coffee in the drawing-room, which was also huge and shabby and full of beautiful things. A bowl of dahlias which had seen better days were shedding their petals on the smeared table. On one wall there was a large square of much lighter red wallpaper, where a picture must have recently hung.

  ‘Oh God,’ said Pendle, ‘my mother must have flogged the Romney. Ace will do his nut.’

  I huddled by the fire, clutching Coleridge for warmth. A fat orange cat was asleep on the sofa.

  ‘Her name’s Antonia Fraser,’ said Pendle ruefully. ‘Have some brandy.’

  ‘I oughtn’t to,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to be tight the first time I meet your mother.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to,’ he said, ‘so you might as well.’ I noticed his hand was shaking as he poured out two glasses. He was so jumpy, he was making me more and more nervous. I was just about to examine the photographs on the desk when I heard voices and doors slamming.

  ‘Here they are,’ said Pendle. He’d gone as white as a sheet. We went into the hall. The front door was thrown open. A very beautiful woman stood in the doorway. She was as slim as a blade.

  ‘Darlings,’ she cried, rushing towards us. ‘How awful you must think us. We didn’t think you’d be here for hours.’

  Jack’s wife? Pendle’s sister?

  ‘This is my mother,’ said Pendle.

  My jaw clanged like a visor.

  ‘But you can’t be!’ I said. ‘You’re too young.’

  Fatuous remark, but she was delighted.

  ‘This is Pru,’ said Pendle.

  ‘You must call me Rose,’ she said taking my hand. ‘Oh, look. Naughty Coleridge has moulted all over you.’

  She probably hadn’t altered her style of dressing for twenty years, but she was bang in fashion now, with rippling blonde waves, round eyes and a tiny scarlet mouth. She’d have set them by the ears in the King’s Road too, in that marvellous fifties crêpe-de-Chine dress. I felt absurdly self-conscious in my twinset and tweeds.

  She didn’t look so young in the drawing-room, but she quickly switched off the overhead light and put on two side lights.

  ‘How are you, Pen, darling? You look tired. Have you been overworking? Such a good party — Maggie and Jack are still there.’

  ‘I thought I heard voices outside,’ said Pendle.

  Rose looked sheepish. ‘James Copeland dropped me off.’

  ‘Linn’s James Copeland?’

  Rose nodded.

  ‘Oh God,’ said Pendle. ‘Is he after you, too?’

  ‘Well, a bit. Too embarrassing really. My daughter Linn gets so cross when her young men run after me,’ she added to me.

  I stared at her, fascinated. I’d never known a mother like this — skipping around in raver kit, pinching her daughter’s boyfriends.

  ‘Do get Primrose and me a drink, darling,’ she said to Pendle.

  ‘Her name’s Prudence,’ said Pendle acidly. ‘And she’s got a drink. When’s Ace coming back?’

  Rose turned her eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘Oh, don’t remind me — the day after tomorrow. No, don’t glare at me like that, Pen. You know I’m fond of Ace. But he makes me feel so hopeless and he’s bound to nag about money.’

  ‘How is money?’

  ‘Oh, disastrous as ever. Look how shabby everything is.’ She picked at a piece of cotton wool oozing out of the yellow sofa. ‘Jack and Maggie’s house is costing the earth.’

  Another car drew up outside, more doors slammed and we heard voices in the hall. Pendle’s face was expressionless, but once again that muscle was twitching in his cheek.

  ‘Don’t spend all night,’ said an irritable male voice. The door was pushed open and a man walked in. His face creased into an incredulous smile.

  ‘You’re here! Already! You must have blown a gasket on the motorway.’

  Pendle looked rather ostentatiously at his watch.

  ‘It’s already eleven o’clock,’ he said.

  ‘God, is it that late? I am sorry.’ He turned to me.

  ‘This is my brother Jack,’ said Pendle.

  Jack Mulholland was outstandingly good-looking and already going to seed. He had terrific bags under his eyes and was beginning to put on weight under the chin. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had those blue, sexy bloodshot eyes that looked as if he’d been swimming under water too long; and he knew how to use them. He looked into my face for a minute, then very slowly ran his eyes over my body, then back to my face again, as though he had to memorize every detail. A smile spread over his face. ‘At least 1,000 ships. But then you always had excellent taste, Pen.’

  I squirmed with embarrassment and pleasure.

  ‘Where’s Maggie?’ said Rose.

  ‘Re-doing her face.’

  ‘Darling, do get us drink,’ said Rose.

  Jack filled up our glasses, and poured two more for Rose and himself.

  Pendle raised his eyebrows. ‘Pru’s not a great drinker.’

  ‘Don’t be a spoilsport,’ said Rose. ‘Well, here’s to you, darlings, and a happy weekend.’

  ‘That was bloody good, you getting Bobby Canfield off,’ said Jack. ‘Everyone’s talking about it round here.’

  ‘Mrs Braddock’s started a scrapbook of your cuttings,’ said Rose.

  I took a sip of my drink and nearly choked. Through streaming eyes I caught Jack laughing at me. He is attractive, I thought. The moment he comes into the room the temperature goes up. At that moment a girl came in, and the temperature shot even higher. She was everything fashion magazines say you shouldn’t be. Her brilliant red hair looked as though it had been cut with garden shears. She wore so much eyeliner her eyes slanted into her ears, and she was falling out of a dress two sizes too small for her and jacked-in at the waist with a green leather belt.

  But she was gorgeous. Any man confronted with that glowing vitality would want to tear those terrible clothes off her and tumble her into bed.

  She stood in the doorway staring at Pendle. All of a sudden the room became very still. The colour drained out of Pendle’s face.

  ‘Hello, Maggie.’ His voice was curiously dry. ‘You look well. This is Pru.’

  She turned and smiled at me. Her eyes were like headlights. I wanted to blink.

  ‘How odd,’ she said slowly. ‘She looks rather like me.’

  I blushed. I looked like a ghost beside this buxom radiant creature.

  ‘Not odd at all,’ said Jack with a slightly twisted smile. ‘Mulhollands always go for redheads.’

  Maggie sat on the arm of Pendle’s chair.

  ‘Get me a drink, Jack,’ she said, and, as Jack went over to the drinks tray, added quite audibly, ‘You shouldn’t have stayed away so long, Pen.’

  Something funny was going on, but I was too tired to work it out. The brandy was sending me to sleep. I hardly listened as they swapped family gossip. I was only conscious that, beneath the superficial banter, there was an underlying tension. It was Jack who noticed I was falling off my chair.

  ‘Poor little Pru’s half dead. For goodness’ sake take her up to her room, Pen.’

  I staggered to my feet. ‘Don’t bother, I can easily find my own way.’

  ‘Will you be all right?’ said Pendle.

  ‘Of course she won’t,’ said Jack, leaping up and taking my arm. ‘Come on, lovie, s
ay goodnight to everyone.’

  It was arctic in the hall.

  ‘You go on up,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll try and dig you out a hot-water bottle.’

  After a few false starts, I found my room. I hardly had the energy to undress and take off my make-up.

  I laughed as I remembered Jane’s instructions about folding my clothes up neatly. That lot downstairs wouldn’t care if I strewed them all over the landing. By the time Jack came upstairs, I was sitting in bed in my new black nightdress.

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve drawn a blank on the hot-water bottle,’ he said. ‘Will you be warm enough?’ he added, standing by the bed and looking down at me.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. I was coming out in goose pimples, but it wasn’t because of the cold.

  ‘You look very fit for human consumption,’ he said, examining my back. ‘You’re still brown.’

  ‘It’s always the bits that don’t show that last longest,’ I said slowly.

  Jack Mulholland undoubtedly had a way with women, like some people have with animals. He made them relax. Before I realized it, he’d put a warm hand on my bare back and, bending down, kissed me slowly on the mouth.

  After a moment he broke off, but his hand was still caressing its way down my back. Goodness, he’s lethal, I thought. Get a grip on yourself, Prudence. He’s the sort of man who’ll stop at nothing.

  ‘Wow,’ said Jack dreamily. ‘You’re gorgeous,’ and he was about to kiss me again when a familiar voice said, ‘Everything all right?’

  I pulled away from Jack as though I’d been stung.

  Pendle stood in the doorway. His face was as enigmatic as ever. That’s done it, I thought. I wonder how long he’s been standing there.

  Jack laughed. He didn’t seem remotely embarrassed.

  ‘Oh dear, I’ve lapsed again,’ he said. ‘I’d better ring up Redheads Anonymous.’

  Chapter Five

  I was woken next morning by rain like machine-gun fire on the roof and Coleridge and Wordsworth lying on my feet. The curtain let in long fingers of light across the ceiling. I looked at my watch. It was eleven o’clock.