Familiar Rooms in Darkness

by Caro Fraser

  ‘No. Harry and I had drifted apart somewhat by the time she came along. But her face is all over the place.’

  Adam nodded. ‘We’ve grown quite – quite friendly since I started the biography. She suggested Megan and I should drop in while we’re down here, and I can’t think of a better opportunity. At least we’ll get some lunch. Then we can sort out somewhere else to stay for the next couple of weeks. I’ll ring her when we get back.’

  Bella was in the kitchen discussing grocery requirements with Marianne when the phone rang. She had tried to put Adam from her mind since leaving London, and hardly expected to hear from him, so her heart leapt with unexpected pleasure at the sound of his voice.

  ‘Adam! How are you?’

  ‘Well, the trip down was interesting. Richard Compton-King drove us. You remember I mentioned him – an old friend of your father’s?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Her tone was unenthusiastic. ‘The one who outed Daddy.’

  Adam winced. ‘You could say… Anyway, the gite we booked has turned out to be a bit of a disaster. My fault. I made a booking at the last minute, took whatever was going. We woke up this morning to find that the septic tank is backing up, and the place is uninhabitable. We’re bailing out and trying to find somewhere else to stay, but I wondered if–’

  ‘Come over here for the day. You absolutely must.’

  ‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say. It’ll only be for a few hours, till we fix up something else. The whole thing is awful.’

  ‘Poor you. How far away are you?’

  ‘I had a look at a map, and it can’t be more than an hour or so.’

  ‘Well, put your things together and come over. Ask Mr Compton-King if he’d like to come to lunch, too. I’d be interested to meet him. Since he was such a friend of Daddy’s.’

  ‘Right…’ Adam paused uncertainly. ‘He’s got a – a young friend with him. A musician. Sort of.’

  ‘The more the merrier. We’ll see you around lunchtime.’

  Bella hung up. She felt disproportionately happy at the thought of seeing Adam. ‘Marianne,’ she called, ‘we’re going to have a few extra people for lunch.’

  Adam put the phone down and went into the kitchen, where Compton-King was leaning back in a chair which looked too frail for his large frame, feet up on the table, studying a road map.

  ‘Right, that’s all fixed up. Are you and Bruno headed anywhere in particular?’

  ‘Not especially. Just thinking of rolling off in the direction of Bordeaux. Why?’

  ‘Bella wondered if you’d like to come to lunch as well.’

  ‘What’s happening?’ asked Bruno, strolling into the kitchen.

  Compton-King folded the road map. ‘We’ve been invited to lunch by a preposterously pretty young actress. A friend of Adam’s called Bella Day. Does that appeal?’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘I thought it might.’

  ‘Right,’ said Adam, ‘we might as well get going straight away.’

  Megan, wandering moodily in from outside, caught this. ‘Get going where?’

  ‘Bella Day’s. She’s got a house down here,’ said Adam.

  ‘You didn’t tell me.’

  There was an exchange of hostile glances.

  ‘It didn’t come up.’

  Compton-King, sensing another argument brewing, rose from his chair. ‘I suggest we collect our effects and depart.’

  They threw things in the back of the Bentley and the hire car, locked up and put the key back under the geranium pot, and drove away in relief.

  They reached Montresor just before noon. Bella came out of the house as both cars pulled up on the driveway. She was wearing a thin cotton shirt over a blue bikini, and was barefoot. Adam wished she didn’t look so unutterably lovely, and that he didn’t smell faintly of raw sewage.

  ‘What a fantastic car,’ said Bella.

  Compton-King, first out of the Bentley, extended a large hand and smiled fabulously, slipping effortlessly into charm mode. ‘Richard Compton-King. Can’t tell you how kind it is of you to bail us out of disaster.’

  Bella returned the smile and shook his hand, giving him an appraising glance. ‘Happy to help.’ She moved towards Adam as he got out, prepared to give him a quick kiss of greeting. He held up a hand and stepped back.

  ‘I wouldn’t, if I were you,’ he said apologetically. ‘I was the one who had to deal with the invasion of the septic tank.’

  Bella grimaced. ‘Well, you can have a bath straight away, if you like. I won’t come any closer.’ She glanced at Megan, who looked hot, tired and bothered. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hello.’ Megan nodded.

  ‘Come into the house. Anybody who needs a shower or bath can have one. Just make yourselves at home. Bring your things. Then I’ll introduce you to everyone and we’ll have lunch.’

  As they went in, Adam and Bella fell behind a little, as though by unspoken agreement.

  ‘Guess who I managed to persuade to come along,’ murmured Bella.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Derek. He’s here with his two girls. We’ve hit it off pretty well so far.’

  ‘Really? That’s fantastic.’ They paused on the threshold. ‘Look,’ said Adam, ‘it’s really good of you – I mean, letting us descend on you like this.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I’m very glad to see you.’ Her eyes were expressive, sincerely happy.

  ‘And I’m incredibly glad to see you.’

  Showered and changed, Adam wandered through the house to the garden, where he could hear voices. Bella was sitting by the pool, talking to a middle-aged man lying on a sun lounger. He was portly and very hairy, clad in baggy tartan swimming trunks and glistening with sun oil. Bella looked up at Adam through her sunglasses. ‘Adam, meet Frank McVeigh, one of our unhappy cast.’

  Adam shook hands with Frank, and wondered where Bruce Redmond was. Perhaps he hadn’t come. Bella called out introductions to the two girls splashing in the pool, and they waved.

  ‘Where’s Derek?’ asked Adam.

  ‘Playing table tennis with Bruce,’ said Bella. ‘They’ve been at it for the past half-hour. Very competitive.’

  Megan and Bruno came out of the house and crossed the lawn to the pool. Bruno, thought Adam with surprise, had cleaned up quite nicely. The matted dreadlocks had been washed and brushed into something more like hair, and now that he had shaved and put on the clean T-shirt and shorts which Adam had lent him, he looked distinctly more appealing than he had on first acquaintance, even to the point of being fairly good looking.

  Bella made introductions and poured out cold lemonade from a jug on the poolside trolley.

  ‘This is quite a place,’ said Adam.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ agreed Megan, whose mood had been much improved by a warm bath and the use of some of Bella’s expensive bath oil.

  ‘I love it,’ sighed Bella, glancing around. ‘I only wish Charlie and I didn’t have to sell it.’

  ‘How is Charlie?’ asked Adam.

  ‘Fine, as far as I know. He’s coming down with Claire at the end of the week.’ Her glance met Adam’s. She shook her head. ‘No, he doesn’t know Derek’s here.’

  At that moment Compton-King emerged from the house, magnificent in a loose, mauve silk shirt, white shorts and canvas espadrilles, his shoulder-length hair swept back, twirling a pair of Raybans. As he crossed the lawn, Frank suddenly reared up in astonishment from his sun lounger. ‘Dickie Compton-King!’

  ‘Good God! Frank!’ roared Compton-King, and descended on his friend to shake his hand and clap his back.

  ‘Dickie and I go way back,’ explained Frank to Bella. ‘We were at Marlborough together. How extraordinary that you should turn up here! How many years is it?’

  ‘Ten at least,’ said Compton-King. ‘That race meeting at Chantilly. Great to see you. Just amazing.’

  Bella made the rest of the introductions. Derek and Bruce appeared.

  ‘He’s too good for me,’ said Bruce, flopping down next
to Bella. He noticed the presence of visitors and raised a hand in general greeting. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Bruce, meet Adam, Megan, Richard and Bruno.’ She turned to them. ‘This is Bruce Redmond. And this–’ She reached up and caught Derek’s hand, ‘is my brother Derek.’ Derek gave a diffident nod to everyone. ‘OK, now we’re all here, let’s go and have lunch.’

  After lunch, Megan and Bruno joined the girls in the swimming pool, and Derek sat under a bean tree at the edge of the garden with a Ken Follett novel. Frank and Compton-King remained at the lunch table on the terrace in the shade of the trellis of vines, polishing off the cheese and the rosé and talking over old times. Adam asked Bella if he could use the phone to try the gite caretakers again. He stood by the kitchen window, phone in hand, listening to the unanswered ringing at the other end. He gazed across the garden to the pool, where Bella and Bruce lay on adjacent sun loungers. They were talking and laughing. They looked perfectly content, perfectly beautiful together. Perfectly perfect. Adam knew he shouldn’t care. But he did.

  He put the phone down and wandered across the lawn. Bruce got up and passed him on his way to the house, raising a hand and giving him a casual smile.

  Adam sat down on the sun lounger which Bruce had vacated, and glanced at Bella, who was lying with her eyes shut. He let his gaze travel for a few seconds across the satin undulations of her stomach and breasts, then looked away.

  Bella opened her eyes a little and looked at Adam. She smiled. ‘Isn’t it funny, Richard Compton-King and Frank knowing one another?’

  ‘Compton-King knows just about everyone.’

  ‘He’s very amusing. I’d like to ask him about when he knew Daddy, but I feel a bit… Oh, what’s the word?’

  ‘Diffident?’

  ‘Mmm. Sort of.’ She closed her eyes again. ‘Did you manage to raise the caretakers of the place you’re staying at?’

  ‘No,’ sighed Adam. ‘And I don’t suppose there’s much they could do, anyway. We’ll just have to find somewhere else to stay.’ He glanced across at Compton-King, who had his feet up on a chair and looked as though he would happily stay where he was for the rest of the day. ‘Time is wearing on. We’ve got a Logis guide in the car. I’ll go and get it.’ He stood up.

  Bella opened her eyes a little and lifted a hand, stretching it up towards Adam. Uncertainly, Adam touched his fingers to hers.

  ‘It’s so nice having you here. Why don’t you all stay?’ She brushed her fingers back and forth against his. ‘For however long you need to.’

  Adam put both hands in the pockets of his shorts. No more of this. It was just a game she liked playing. ‘That’s kind, but I don’t think we could.’

  ‘Why not? Frank and Bruce and Derek are all making a contribution towards the household expenses. You could do the same. What’s the point of going off and spending money on a hotel, or trying to find another house? We’ve got plenty of room, and there’s lots to do here. All those silly holiday things, like bikes and tennis and darts…’ She yawned, let her hand drift back to her side. ‘Not if you don’t want to, though.’

  Time ticked by in the heat, while Adam grappled with this. Much as he wanted to stay, he wasn’t sure he could bear watching Bruce Redmond and Bella together.

  ‘Well?’ Bella shifted her position, sitting up and leaning her head on one elbow, smiling at him.

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Adam. ‘I mean, it would be brilliant, but you do have other guests–’

  ‘That’s what this place is for. It’s much better when there are lots of people around. To be honest, I’m a little bit anxious about what’s going to happen when Charlie arrives. No one else understands the situation. You do. You know all about it. It might be a help to me, having you here.’

  Adam reflected on this. ‘Well–’

  ‘Look, just say yes. I can tell that the rest of your friends would jump at it. For heaven’s sake, Frank’s found a long-lost friend, Leanne and Emma have got someone else to play with besides each other–’ She nodded to where a splashy, noisy game of water volleyball was still going on between the girls and Bruno and Megan, ‘and it’ll mean you can go off and interview your farmers without having to drag Megan along. I’ll bet you’d rather do that on your own, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘To be honest, yes.’

  ‘OK then.’ Bella lay down once more and closed her eyes. ‘That’s settled.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Seriously.’ Adam sat down next to Compton-King and plucked a grape from the fruit bowl. ‘If we make a contribution to the household expenses, she’s more than happy for us to stay here.’

  ‘Highly sociable young thing, is Bella,’ remarked Frank, knocking back the remains of his wine. He rose to his feet, his face pink and glossy from heat and wine. ‘Think I’ll have a little nap now. Glad to know I’ll be seeing you both at dinner.’ He rolled off in the direction of the house.

  ‘It’s bloody decent of her to offer to put us up,’ said Compton-King. ‘Hasn’t she got more people coming at the weekend?’

  ‘That’s partly it. I think she hopes having lots of people around will ease certain tensions which might arise with her brother, Charlie.’ Adam explained the circumstances of the adoption and Bella’s recent discovery of her Deptford family. ‘Charlie’s backed off from the whole thing, effectively, and I think Bella hopes that putting Charlie and Derek together for a week or so will help the situation.’

  ‘And will it?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘I don’t know either of them well enough to say. They’re very alike, in that they both seem to be stubborn buggers, not given to displays of affection. Anyway, apart from that, Bella thinks that it’ll be good for Derek’s daughters to have some younger people around. You know, slightly livelier than Frank.’

  ‘If by that you mean my young friend Mr Skeffington-Ancram–’ Compton-King lowered his sunglasses from his forehead and gazed through them at Bruno, still splashing around in the pool with Megan and the girls, ‘I wouldn’t count on him keeping up this clean-cut, big-brother act for long. Surfer Joe is adept at sniffing out illegal substances in any town, in any country, within a matter of hours. Even in rural France. Best if I try to keep him confined to barracks for the duration. Having said that, the boy’s got enough Lebanese Red about his person to keep him tranquil most evenings.’

  ‘Megan will be happy, at any rate. I couldn’t see myself getting much done on this article otherwise. She’s not the easiest of people when she’s denied her creature comforts.’

  ‘All worked out very well. Extremely kind of Ms Day. Must go and thank her myself.’ Compton-King rose from his chair, pulling in his stomach in preparation for the launch of a full charm offensive. ‘Then I’ll start earning my keep by popping off to a couple of chateaux and stocking up on enough wine to keep the household ticking over. Fancy joining me?’

  ‘Only if you’ll get the air conditioning looked at while we’re at it.’

  ‘Good thought. We’ll find a local garage and see what they can do.’ He headed off to where Bella lay on her sun lounger.

  *

  After dinner that evening, when the dishes had been cleared away, Adam wandered out into the balmy darkness to where Bruce, Compton-King and Frank were sitting in the garden, drinking wine at the table by the poolside bar. Frank was smoking a cigar, its pungent aroma filling the night air.

  Adam sat down, and Compton-King filled a glass and handed it to him.

  ‘I was just explaining to Frank that you’re the young man who’s writing the definitive biography of Harry Day.’

  Frank nodded at Adam, puffing reflectively on his cigar. ‘Can’t be easy, trying to unravel someone’s life, especially someone as admired and revered as dear Bella’s father. D’you think you’ve found out anything about the great man that wasn’t already known?’

  Adam felt equivocation was called for. ‘I’m not entirely sure. It’s not so much an unravelling process as a piecing together. It’s rather difficult trying to establi
sh the true facts of a life that’s only recently been lived.’

  ‘Ah,’ Frank nodded, ‘the corpse is still too warm.’

  ‘Something like that. I get the feeling it would probably be easier to write the biography of someone who died a century ago.’

  ‘Rotten flesh falls more cleanly from the bone, you mean?’

  ‘Frank, enough of the graveyard analogies, please,’ said Compton-King with a grimace.

  ‘It’s actually rather a good way of putting it,’ said Adam. Then he added, ‘My problem lies with people who are still alive, people who knew him. They all have their own agenda, their own reasons for whatever they tell me. It’s hard to know what’s truth and what isn’t.’

  Frank leaned back in his chair, tipping the ash from the end of his cigar. ‘The dead have no agenda, no excuses. At least, that’s my view.’ He drew gently on his cigar, the tip glowing red in the darkness. ‘I never met Harry Day, but I’ll tell you a story I know about him. It was during the years that he was living in India, turning out those Green Juniper books of his. I never went to India, never hit the hippie trail. I was too old by the time that became the thing. But my younger brother travelled there. He went with a schoolfriend when he was just eighteen. I won’t name the schoolfriend – he’s dead now, anyway – but, like Frank, he’d read the first of those Green Juniper books – what was it called?’

  ‘Pale Journey,’ said Adam.

  Frank nodded. ‘That’s the one. Anyway, he was an utter devotee of Harry Day. You know what it’s like at that age, confusing the man with his art. I think his idea was to find Harry Day and sit at his knee like some kind of supplicant, gazing on the great man’s countenance. My brother Gordon simply wanted to travel, and his friend’s fixation gave them some sort of purpose, direction. Anyway, Gordon’s friend wasn’t the only one who wanted to worship at the Harry Day shrine. As Adam doubtless knows, Harry lived in a house up in the hills outside Simla, and the occasional young hippy pilgrim would find his way to Harry’s door. He was very hospitable, apparently, and most of them would stay for a couple of days, talking the talk, nourishing Harry’s ego, no doubt, and then go on their way. But for Gordon’s friend, it was much more than that. He felt he’d found his spiritual home. He wanted nothing more than to become part of Harry’s life. We’ve all been fanatical to that degree, I imagine,’ said Frank, glancing at his listeners, ‘but most of us just fantasize about it. This boy had actually made his fantasy real. And Harry Day indulged him. The boy offered to help with his work, do research, answer letters, and Harry found that quite useful, since his services were free, so to speak. Gordon didn’t want to hang around, though. While his friend was busy insinuating himself into Harry’s ramshackle household – there were a couple of young women there, with the same fixation as Gordon’s friend – Gordon wanted to move on. He couldn’t persuade his friend to leave, so he went off on his own.’ Frank paused to draw on his cigar again. ‘Two months later he went back. It was perfectly evident to him that his friend had been utterly seduced by Harry Day in more ways than one, enslaved by his own infatuation. He wouldn’t leave. It seemed that Harry always had these floating acolytes, sexual playthings, secretaries, gofers, whatever you want to call them. This boy had become one of them. So Gordon set off on some more of his travels – down to Goa, as I recall – and then a few months later he went back again to the house at Simla. By that time Gordon was ready to head home, and he thought his friend should go with him, leave his obsession behind and get a life. But his friend wasn’t there. He’d become ill while he was at Harry’s – enteritis that turned into dysentery. Harry had grown sick of him by then – he made that pretty clear to Gordon when Gordon showed up – and had had the boy shipped off to a local hospital. Harry wouldn’t pay for more than the most basic treatment, didn’t try to get in touch with the boy’s family, simply discarded him. As he had a right to, no doubt. What was he to this young man, after all? Anyhow, Gordon contacted his friend’s family, who hadn’t any idea of his whereabouts and were sick with worry, and they wired out money. Gordon and his friend, when he was well enough, went back to Britain. I shouldn’t think Harry was ever mentioned. That’s about all I know, because Gordon and his friend lost touch, until Gordon heard about ten years ago that his friend had died. He’d become a drug addict, and his end was pretty much the usual squalid story.’ Frank took a final drag of his cigar. ‘So there’s a thing you didn’t know about Harry Day.’ He crushed the glowing tip out on the grass. ‘I’ve never told anyone that story before.’