Prudence

by Jilly Cooper

  Next moment my illusions were shattered. Ace Mulholland turned round, the bottom half of his face covered with lather. Under the black thatch of hair, his eyes were swollen with sleep and not particularly friendly.

  ‘Won’t be long,’ he said, starting to scrape off the soap.

  ‘At least the rain’s stopped,’ I said faintly, hanging on to the door handle for support. ‘We might get a lovely day.’

  Then I remembered I was wearing my black temptress see-through nightie, which must look pretty incongruous in my present state of collapse, so I went back to my room, and sat on my bed groaning. If I didn’t get a drink pretty soon the top of my head would come off. I put on a brown sweater, and a pair of brown corduroy jodhpurs which were fashionable that autumn. (I’d never been on a horse in my life.) It took centuries to get dressed, and I had awful trouble with my new walking shoes. Every time I bent down to do up the laces, I was nearly sick. It was a bit late anyway to try and impress Ace with my respectability. I threw my walking shoes in the corner, and put on my orange boots. I seemed to have gone downhill rather fast in the last two days.

  Clinging on to the banisters, holding my head in place with my left hand, I found Ace prowling round the downstairs rooms drinking black coffee, and looking bootfaced. Certainly the state of decay looked even worse by daylight. Coleridge, now stretched out in the hall, thumped his tail.

  ‘Oh please don’t,’ I groaned. ‘Have you got any Alka-Seltzer?’

  ‘You’ll never keep it down in that condition,’ he said. ‘I’ll get you a Fernet Branca.’

  In the kitchen I found Mrs Braddock noisily washing up, trembling with rage that she’d been caught on the hop.

  ‘Mrs Mulholland should have warned me Mr Ace was coming back,’ she grumbled.

  ‘She didn’t know,’ I said, remembering Rose’s inside-out dress. ‘She was more surprised than anyone.’

  ‘Probably never read Mr Ace’s letter properly, and I was going to take the budgie in for a check-up this morning,’ said Mrs Braddock, viciously crashing a saucepan down on the draining-board, which didn’t really help matters.

  Ace came in with a glass.

  I gulped it down, then choked.

  ‘You’ve poisoned me,’ I croaked.

  For a second I thought I was going to explode. Then suddenly it was a horror film in reverse. The terrified creature being torn apart by Dracula’s teeth was transformed into the radiant bride again. Suddenly I was all right. I shook my head three times. It didn’t even hurt.

  ‘Very clever,’ I muttered.

  Ace regarded me thoughtfully; then, waiting until Mrs Braddock had stumped off to collect some more glasses, said, ‘Do you always drink as much as this?’

  I looked him straight in the eyes. ‘No,’ I said, ‘I’ve been corrupted by your family.’

  He sighed. ‘I was afraid you had.’

  ‘Where is everyone?’

  ‘Still asleep. Before you came down, I discovered a man from the tax office stretched out in the broom cupboard.’

  I giggled. ‘He had a heavenly time last night.’

  ‘Well he wasn’t feeling so hot this morning, but was coherent enough before he left to give me a few details about the financial set-up here. I’ll have to have a session with my step-mother later.’

  ‘Oh dear. Can’t you wait till tomorrow? I don’t imagine she’ll be quite up to it today. I thought you’d sleep in too.’

  ‘I haven’t got used to the time yet.’

  Coleridge wandered in, gazed at me with lustrous brown eyes, then put a large speckled paw on my knee.

  ‘If he tells you he hasn’t had a mouthful since yesterday, he’s lying,’ said Ace. ‘I’ve just fed him.’

  ‘He’s terribly nice,’ I said, scratching him behind the ears. ‘Where’s Wordsworth?’

  ‘Buggered off somewhere, probably after a bitch in the village.’

  ‘You haven’t possibly got a cigarette, have you,’ I said. ‘I left mine upstairs.’

  ‘No,’ said Ace, ‘You’d do better with some fresh air. D’you want to come and look around outside?’

  ‘All right,’ I said. After all it was important to get on with Pendle’s family, although I’d been getting on a bit too well with Jack.

  Ace got me one of Rose’s old sheepskin coats from behind the door, picked up a large parcel on the dresser and we went out of the back door.

  The most radiant morning greeted us. The air was as soft as primroses. The sun had broken through. Everything in the drenched garden sparkled. Deep puddles reflected a sky as blue as the Angel Islington in Monopoly.

  We walked through the kitchen garden, past overgrown gooseberry bushes, blue and green cabbages, full of fat rain drops, and ancient fruit trees, the ground beneath them covered with rotting yellow apples that no one had bothered to pick. Along the fence the remnants of former shrubberies were thickly choked with weeds. There was a lovely smell of wet earth and mouldering vegetation. A robin perched on a spade, thrusting out its orange breast in the sunshine.

  At the top of the garden, we went through a rusty iron gate into open fields. At the end of the fields, beyond a belt of dark pine trees, a huge mountain reared up, covered in rocks, khaki grass, and bracken so red it looked as though it had been dipped in henna. Coleridge charged on ahead, snorting down rabbit holes, his plumy tail going all the time. It was very quiet; all you could hear was the occasional mournful bleat of a sheep, and the full roar of hundreds of little becks coming off the mountain.

  ‘How much of the land is yours?’ I said.

  ‘About twenty thousand acres,’ said Ace. ‘Most of it is let to local farmers. It stretches to beyond the village over there.’

  He pointed to a clump of little grey houses in the distance. The smoke was going straight up from the chimneys, the sun caught the gold lichened roofs, and the blue dress of a woman who was hanging out washing.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ I breathed. ‘Aren’t you glad to be back?’

  ‘Not sure yet. Haven’t been here long enough.’

  Suddenly I decided I rather liked him. Then he started grilling me, and I decided I didn’t. It was just like being interviewed for a job. How long had I known Pendle? Where did my family live? What did my father do? How many brothers and sisters had I got? Why hadn’t I gone to university? How long had I been in my present job?

  ‘Two years,’ I said defiantly — that should show him I’d got staying power. ‘If you’ve got a good job, you hang on to it at the moment. Everyone’s nervous. The advertisers are still pulling back. The bosses spend more time worrying about cashflow than producing ads.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘I work for the creative director — and doesn’t he create sometimes!’

  Ace was like Pendle, he didn’t laugh at my jokes either. In need of light relief I kicked a toadstool, and then did a handstand. Coleridge had reached a little stream, and was splashing up it, snapping at the waterfalls.

  ‘He’s what they call a “watter” dog round here,’ said Ace. ‘When he gets home, he’ll rush upstairs, and dry off in someone’s bed. You’d better keep your door locked.’

  I told him about Pendle’s rape case.

  ‘Yeah, he did well. I got the cuttings in the States.’

  Even abroad he kept tabs on them.

  Then he started quizzing me about the English political scene, which was totally disastrous. I couldn’t even remember who was Minister of Labour, let alone Shadow Chancellor, and I’d never known what the balance of payments was anyway.

  ‘I’m not interested in politics,’ I said crossly. ‘They’re always changing. Can’t we have a commercial break? I really don’t care about the State of the Nation at this hour of the morning.’

  The dark searching eyes held mine for a minute.

  ‘Do you ever?’ he said dismissively.

  ‘Not if I can help it. You should try Professor Copeland if you want serious conversation,’ I snapped, and did a couple of c
artwheels, which didn’t do my head any good either.

  We had come full circle now. The house was visible over the hill. We passed a thick clump of silver birches, and reached the stables, and whatever state of delapidation the rest of the house had fallen into, you couldn’t fault them. Everything had been newly painted a glossy duck-egg blue, the yard was swept, and the horses in the boxes were in magnificent condition. And one felt that never in the past two years had they ever been anything else. There was also no doubt about the incredulous delight on old Mr Braddock’s face when he saw Ace who handed him the parcel he was carrying. He was too shy to open his present in front of us, but stumped off bowlegged to leave it in the tackroom, and then took us on a tour of the horses.

  ‘This is new,’ said Ace, stopping in front of a handsome chestnut, looking balefully out of her box, and pawing at the straw.

  ‘Mr Jack bought her for young Mrs Mulholland last summer,’ said Mr Braddock. ‘Jumps anything you can see the sky over, but she doesn’t get enough exercise.’

  We went out to the paddock to look at the ponies. A plump blue roan came bustling up to us, whickering through her nostrils, nudging at Ace with her roman nose.

  ‘This is Bluebell,’ he said, pulling gently at her ears. ‘She taught us all to ride. God knows how old she is now.’

  I was just bending down to pick her some grass, when a pair of hands grabbed me round the waist. I let out a piercing shriek and leapt forward. Bluebell tossed up her head and cantered away.

  ‘What the bloody hell?’ snapped Ace.

  It was Jack, his hair lifting in the breeze, wearing a dark blue sweater, and ludicrously tight jeans. Even a hangover couldn’t dim his beauty.

  ‘Hullo, my darlings,’ he said. ‘You’re up revoltingly early. Aren’t you pleased with the horses?’ he added to Ace. ‘They’re all in good nick, aren’t they?’

  Ace nodded. ‘Makes a nice change from everything else.’

  ‘What d’you think of the mare I bought Maggie?’

  ‘Too fat,’ said Ace.

  Jack laughed. ‘Like her mistress, and quite unlike this heavenly creature who’s not got an ounce of spare flesh on her. How are you this morning, angel?’ He went on grabbing me round the waist again, and pulling me against him. Ace was glaring at us so fiercely, I decided I wanted to irritate him.

  ‘All the better for seeing you,’ I said, smiling up at Jack.

  ‘It’s nearly opening time,’ he said. ‘Mustn’t give my hangover time to get a grip. Who’s coming down to the pub?’

  ‘Oh I am, please,’ I said.

  ‘No thanks,’ said Ace. ‘And for God’s sake don’t pour too much drink down her. I’ve only just sobered her up.’

  And, turning abruptly on his heel, he walked back to the stables.

  We had a nice time at the pub, where we found Wordsworth parked outside, and the Admiral on a bar stool inside, both looking equally lovelorn and the worse for wear.

  ‘Wordsworth’s been here all morning whining for our Sarah,’ said the landlord, shaking his head. ‘Must have got her bad.’

  ‘Know how he feels,’ sighed the Admiral. ‘How’s yer mother this morning?’

  ‘Well she hadn’t surfaced by the time I left,’ said Jack. ‘No doubt she’ll emerge radiant at lunchtime. She’s got more stamina than any of us.’

  ‘Wonderful woman,’ sighed the Admiral. ‘What are you going to drink?’

  After that we had several drinks, and a post mortem on the party last night, most of which was devoted to in-depth bitching about the Professor.

  ‘He’s the most boring man I’ve ever met,’ said Jack. ‘And what’s more he wears the most boring trousers.’

  ‘Suppose he’s very brainy,’ said the Admiral, gloomily.

  ‘Second in British English, fourth in life,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll have to go in and fight for her, Admiral.’

  The Admiral looked rather excited and bought us more drinks.

  Jack and I were exchanging so many eye-meets now it was getting ridiculous.

  ‘We really ought to go,’ I said. ‘It’s twenty to two.’

  Dragging a reluctant, panting Wordsworth, we got back into the car, dropped the Admiral off at his cottage on the edge of the lake, and set off for home.

  ‘Gather ye rose buds while ye may, there’s no more bed once you’re dead,’ said Jack. He put his hand on my thigh.

  ‘Wordsworth will be shocked,’ I said, removing it.

  ‘He’s far too busy composing Tintern Abbey,’ said Jack.

  I giggled. He put his hand back. I put my hand firmly on top of his to stop it moving further upwards. We were nearly at the bottom of the drive.

  ‘I don’t think Ace approves of me,’ I said, more to get Jack off the subject of me than anything else.

  ‘Don’t think he approves of anything very much at the moment. Must be hell coming back here, with Elizabeth buried in the churchyard, and every tree and rock reminding him of her. She was so lovely, and he adored her so much. He’s missed out on love really, with his mother dying when he was only two, then losing Elizabeth and the baby after such a short time. I know he’s not easy, but he’s rewarding if you make the effort.’

  He took his hand from my thigh to swing the car in through the drive.

  ‘But where were we,’ he went on, ‘when Ace so rudely interrupted us last night? I must say I did enjoy it.’

  ‘Oh so did I,’ I said. I shouldn’t have encouraged him. But he was so attractive, and I didn’t think he’d try anything when we were so nearly home.

  He stopped the car at the front, smiled at me gently, then in full view of the drawing-room window, leant over and kissed me very hard, full on the mouth which was still half open. For a moment I was too surprised to move, then I pulled away and leapt out of the car. Laughing, quite undisturbed, Jack started up and drove round to the garage at the back.

  Pendle and Maggie were talking conspiratorially in the drawing-room when I went in. They gave no evidence of having seen us arrive.

  ‘Rose was ringing up all her friends telling them how ghastly it was to have Ace back and he walked in in the middle,’ said Maggie. She was wearing too much rouge, and there was make-up on her white shirt, but she looked sexy enough in a rumpled way.

  ‘I hear you’ve been round the estate, and visited the pub,’ said Pendle, pouring me a glass of wine, ‘so you know all there is to know about the area?’

  ‘I had such a hangover, the hair of the dog was the only answer,’ I explained hastily. ‘The Admiral was in the pub. He’s very disconsolate.’

  ‘Professor Copeland’s not too happy either,’ said Maggie. ‘He’s already rung up Rose and said he was “mightily annoyed” about the high-handed way Ace ordered him out of the house last night. He wants an apology.’

  ‘He won’t get one,’ said Pendle.

  At that moment Rose swept in, looking a bit pale, but with plenty of the old dash about her.

  ‘Hullo, Pru darling,’ she said. ‘Do you know, Maggie, Snelgroves have refused to send me that silver fox on appro.’

  ‘Not surprised,’ said Maggie. ‘Considering you kept the last one six months, and sent it back ripped and with toffee papers in the pocket.’

  But Rose’s butterfly mind had flitted to other problems.

  ‘Promise not to leave me alone for a minute with Ace,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘I know he wants to talk about money. I don’t expect I shall ever see dear Professor Copeland again. Ace has been so rude to him. I’ve got nothing to look forward to now except decay,’ she added dramatically.

  ‘Never mind,’ said Jack, coming through the door, wearing Copeland’s hat. ‘You’ve got plenty more beaux to your string.’

  Everyone groaned.

  Jack admired himself in the mirror.

  ‘Do I look like an intellectual?’ he said, crinkling his eyes.

  ‘Take more than a hat,’ said Maggie nastily.

  ‘Oh go and play in the traffic,’ snapped Jack. He t
ook off the hat, and put it on Coleridge, who was sprawled in an armchair and took absolutely no notice.

  ‘He’s exhausted,’ said Pendle, ‘after spending five minutes on his narvel.’

  Even Rose giggled.

  ‘Ace and I are going to ride after lunch,’ said Jack. ‘I suppose there will be lunch?’ he added to Rose, ‘And Pru’s coming with me.’

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  Pendle glanced at my corduroy jodhpurs, ‘Of course, she is,’ he said. ‘She’s already dressed. I’ll come and see you off.’

  Worse still, they all decided to come and see us off. Any courage given me by the whisky in the pub evaporated over lunch, but I still didn’t dare tell them I couldn’t ride.

  We all trooped down to the stables. Three huge horses were led out.

  My teeth were chattering with fear. ‘Cold today isn’t it?’ I said to Ace.

  Mr Braddock led the large grey towards me. ‘She’s called Snowball,’ he said. Jack and Ace were already mounted. Rose, Maggie, Pendle, two dogs, Antonia Fraser sitting on the stable roof, blinking her yellow eyes, and a man carting manure were all watching me. I seized the reins and put my foot in the stirrup. Snowball, recognizing a phoney, started waltzing round. I hopped after her.

  ‘I’ll give you a leg up,’ said Pendle, hoisting me into the saddle. London from the top of the Post Office tower couldn’t have seemed further away than the ground. Incapable of standing still, Snowball started to walk sideways and, no sooner had Pendle let go of her reins than she set off at a brisk trot out of the yard into the fields.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute,’ shouted Ace. Snowball trotted even faster. Up down, up down, I tried desperately to rise in the saddle, but I kept getting out of time and going bump bump instead.