The Lynmara Legacy

by Catherine Gaskin

  ‘Just imagine leaving it off,’ Judy said, turning the great stone, with its circle of diamonds, watching the light refracted back from its heart. ‘I couldn’t think of leaving mine off. I even wear it to bed.’

  Nicole spun around from the tea-tray. ‘Yours …? Judy? Are you engaged?’

  The same radiance that had lighted Judy’s face the night before showed again. ‘Didn’t you guess? How do you think I dragged Gavin to a party like that? I can’t pretend that social life is likely to be easy with my brooding Scot, but whatever it is, I’ll like it. I’m still amazed that he even noticed I existed. When he went back to Cambridge I had to invent all kinds of excuses to get him back to Fenton Field, or to get myself in the neighbourhood of Cambridge, and just sort of … drop in. At last he woke up. Of course he’ll be one of those brilliant dons who have silly wives, but I think I’ll be a good wife, Nicole … I think I will.’

  Nicole had her arms around her. Although their friendship had been close, they had never been demonstrative with each other. It was a rare break in the pattern. ‘Oh, Judy … I’m so happy for you. If it’s what you want, then it’s bound to turn out beautifully. And if Gavin has finally woken up, then he knows. And he’ll make a good husband ‒ yes, he will. He’s one of those … those unshakeable sorts.’

  Judy laughed. ‘You know, I’m not really worried about anything. I think it will work out. Of course we’re going to be poor as church mice. Research fellows don’t get paid very much. And we’ll have children. Isn’t it a blessing I took up cookery, and I can sew a bit? I’ll have to give dinner parties, and sort of help push Gavin along in college politics. He’s too engrossed in his work to see that he needs a bit of help …’ And while she was talking, she was twisting the tiny single diamond she wore on her left hand, and Nicole was acutely aware that David’s great sapphire seemed vulgar and splashy, as last night’s party had been; Judy’s small diamond represented a hope realized, while to her the cold blue gem was some sort of consolation prize for what she had not been able to win from the man she had fallen in love with. ‘I’m so happy for you,’ she said again, and just managed not to say ‘I envy you.’

  But something of the unspoken words must have shown in her face. She turned away to pour tea, but Judy persisted. ‘Nicole … perhaps I ought not to say it … but I wish you seemed happier yourself. This …’ she indicated the music room ‘… was the last place I expected to find you today. If I were getting married in two days ‒ we’ll have to wait until next spring, at earliest … find a house, all that sort of thing ‒ well, if I were being married in two days’ time I think I’d be off my head with excitement.’ She touched the open music on the piano. ‘Czerny studies … on the eve of your wedding?’

  Nicole kept on with what she was doing. She didn’t meet Judy’s eyes directly. She passed the teacup to Judy, who perched on the edge of the piano stool. Then she nibbled at a piece of watercress which decorated the sandwiches. The sight of the food on the tray almost made her sick. Automatically she passed the plate to Judy, who ate hungrily.

  ‘Well, Judy … it’s different. You know me. I’m not the sort to go off my head. About anything.’

  ‘Then you should be ‒ about getting married! David seems happy. He seems just as you’d expect a young man to be at this time. I think he cares a great deal about you ‒ and he’s so nicely unconceited for someone so good-looking. But you … Nicole, what is it? Sometimes last night you looked as if you’d stopped feeling anything, were going through some sort of part you’d learned.’

  ‘Just tired,’ Nicole answered shortly. ‘It’ll be such a relief when it’s all over. When it’s finished and …’

  ‘Done with?’ The shock showed in Judy’s face. ‘My God, Nicole, getting married is just the beginning! You sound as if it were something you had to make yourself get through. Like some sort of sentence … an execution. Nicole, you can’t …? What is wrong? You’re so much on edge. You’re just like Lloyd. He’s as touchy ‒’

  ‘Lloyd!’ Nicole, neat and precise in her movements always, tilted the cup until the tea splashed down on her skirt; the spoon slid sideways and clattered to the floor. With shaking hands she righted the cup and set it on the tray. ‘What about Lloyd?’

  ‘What about him? He’s leaving. I went around to the flat this morning and found him packing. None of us knew he was going. He’s leaving on the Ocean Queen tonight. We’ve been trying to get in touch with him ‒ all the family have. He just resigned from the hospital and took himself off to some place in Cornwall. That man … what’s his name? ‒ Zimmerman? ‒ didn’t know where. Mother’s written and hasn’t had a reply. I wanted to see him. Naturally I wanted to tell him about Gavin. And so I just phoned this morning and said I was coming round. And found him packing.’

  Nicole no longer attempted to control her trembling. ‘What was he like? What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing much. He was busy. He kept on packing while I was there. Just throwing books into boxes to be shipped on afterwards. All right, I’ll tell you the truth. He was in a foul mood. Oh, he said all the right things about Gavin and myself, but I could see it had hardly registered. It isn’t like Lloyd at all. We’ve been like his family, and then all of a sudden he isn’t with us any more. He never even told us he’d resigned. He didn’t say anything about going off to Cornwall. Every other time he’s spent at least a few days of every holiday at Fenton Field. And now this going off back to Boston and not saying a word. Oh, he said he’d just got on the ship because of a cancellation, and would have phoned Mother, but I don’t believe it. Something’s happened to Lloyd. And I think it’s to do with you.’

  ‘Me? How do you know? Did he say?’ Nicole leaned forward and caught at Judy’s arm. ‘What did he say?’

  Judy licked her lips. ‘He wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t seen the photographs.’

  ‘What photographs?’

  ‘Of you ‒ all the things that have been appearing in the magazines. All the things about the engagement to David. The photos of you both in the Tatler. All that kind of thing. Not at all the sort of stuff Lloyd would ever bother with. I never saw him even open that kind of magazine. But there it all was ‒ as if he’d been saving it all. And it was lying in the waste-basket. I asked him what it meant.’

  ‘What did he say? Judy ‒ did he say ‒?’

  ‘He just said one thing. And that was all I could get out of him. He just said, “I’m suddenly in a hurry because I’ve decided I’d rather not be in England when Nicole is married. I don’t think I can stand the sight of the newspapers”.’

  ‘He said that ‒ and threw out my pictures! Judy ‒ he must have said something else! Something about me ‒’

  ‘Nothing. I couldn’t get him to talk about anything. He just packed, and made it clear that I was in the way. I think, if he could, he would have taken back what he said about your getting married. But I’d seen the stuff in the waste-basket.’ Judy put her cup down on the tray. ‘Nicole ‒ what happened between you and Lloyd? None of us knew … knew anything.’

  ‘Neither did we.’ Nicole stood up, walked around the piano, stood facing Judy who had swivelled on the seat to follow her. Her voice, which had held a note of frenzy, was back to a dull control. ‘I suspect neither of us knew ‒ but I knew far less than he. I played around with what I didn’t understand. I played around with both our lives, and thought it could all come out just as I had planned it. All very neatly. I should know by now that life isn’t very often neat and tidy. We can all make terrible messes of it. Lloyd tried to tell me. I didn’t believe him, then. I couldn’t. It didn’t seem possible that I could have him, and lose him, within a month. And we’d never even been to bed together.’

  ‘Nicole ‒’

  ‘Oh, I’m not supposed to talk about that? Well, what does it matter? The truth is I love him ‒ I do love him ‒ very much. At least, I think I love him. I don’t know anything else. Makes you wonder about how ignorant we are ‒ how they bring us up. Y
ou see, I had him, and I lost him. And so I took David. Dear David ‒ very sweet, very trusting. He’ll never know that I couldn’t fall in love with him because I was in love with another man. With luck, in time, I expect I shall come to love him. But falling in love would have been easier to begin a marriage with. He’ll never have that. And I’m sorry I have to cheat him so.’

  ‘Nicole ‒ you can’t do this. You can’t marry David Ashleigh feeling the way you do.’

  ‘How else shall I ever feel? I expect the first time you fall in love you think it can never happen again. Most older people would say that wasn’t true. But all I know is what I am now ‒ what I feel now. I’m in love with Lloyd Fenton, and so I can’t be in love with David.’

  Judy swung her leg from the edge of the piano stool. She shook her head, as if rejecting several things she might have said. ‘I take it back. Of course you must marry David. He loves you ‒ you will make a very good wife for him. In time ‒ as you say ‒ in time, you’ll probably love him. He wouldn’t be a hard person to love. You’ll have to forget about Lloyd, though. If you keep thinking of him, if you go on the way you are now, you’re just going to be miserable. And you’ll make David miserable. I don’t think he’s a fool. He’s sure to sense that ‒ things aren’t right. At this moment I suppose he’s thinking what we’re all thinking ‒ that you’re exhausted. There’s been all this Blanchard business, and an engagement and a marriage all within a few weeks. But if you go on looking as if your mind is somewhere else, you’ll make him very unhappy. So forget Lloyd. Obviously it didn’t work. Whatever you thought you had, it wasn’t there, or you wouldn’t have given up so easily. The two of you ‒ how strange. I never really thought of you together, but now I see it’s really possible. Both Americans, understanding the same sort of things. Both more serious than the usual run. He’s so mad about his work, and you, in your way, about yours. I wonder what did go wrong? No … Better not to dwell on that. Let it go, Nicole. It was one of those things.’

  Nicole flashed back at her. ‘Suddenly I don’t think I want to just let it go. What you’ve told me changes things. I think ‒ I think there’s just a chance that he loves me as much as I love him. He misses me in the same way. Oh, Judy, it’s been so empty since I’ve lost him. The days are filled and yet I’m wandering all alone. There hasn’t been anything ‒ no, not anything that’s been able to drive him out of my mind. And now you tell me he’s going. He doesn’t want even to be in the country when I marry David. My pictures have been saved, and now they’re in the waste-basket. Well, I’m going to give it another try. It’s that damn, stubborn Yankee pride. He just won’t lift the telephone. Well, I’m not waiting any more. I’m going to him …’

  ‘You’ve probably missed him. He was taking the boat-train from Victoria. I think he said about four-thirty. It’s almost that now.’

  Nicole’s look of exhausted apathy dropped from her face. ‘Judy, quickly. Have you got any money with you? Give it to me. I can just make it in time. Come down into the square with me. We can each go to one end. Whoever sees a taxi first, grab it. Quickly … oh, God, quickly.’

  ‘Nicole …!’

  ‘Judy, please. I can’t stop to argue. Quickly …’

  She made Judy’s refusal impossible by snatching up her coat and purse from the chair. ‘I’m taking them, whether you come or not.’ She flung open the door and began to run down the stairs.

  Judy followed. ‘Now why on earth did I have to open my mouth …?’

  Nicole never heard. She was already two flights below.

  Victoria Station had that dank smell of steam and soot trapped under the roofs of the platforms, and of wet as people shook out umbrellas. Some might have been startled by the sight of a young dark-haired girl dressed only in a blouse and skirt, dodging her way through the beginning of the rush-hour crowds. Another girl, blonde and pretty, followed, calling after her. But mostly they took no notice. Notoriously, railway stations were places where dramas occurred, even if it was only the small drama of missing a train.

  Nicole cannoned into a porter. ‘’Ere, watch it!’

  She grabbed his coat sleeve. ‘The boat-train for the Ocean Queen? Which platform?’

  ‘Seven. If you took yer time ye’d see it chalked on the board in the ticket hall …’ He glanced up quickly at the big clock overhead. ‘Bit late, ain’t y’ …? Never goner catch it now …’ He had thought he might have felt some satisfaction in telling her she was going to miss it; he didn’t like being grabbed and having questions hurled at him, but when he saw her stricken face, he relented. ‘’Ere, quick ‒ there’s seven over there. You’ll need a platform ticket if you’re not travelling …’ She didn’t look as if she was travelling. But she was gone, racing in the direction of his pointing arm, the blonde girl following her changed direction. They both came to the barrier of platform seven just as the ticket collector was starting to slide it closed.

  ‘You ladies travelling?’

  ‘No ‒ just here to see someone off,’ Judy panted.

  ‘Sorry, too late. You’ll have to buy a platform ticket from the machine.’

  ‘Then we’re travelling,’ Nicole said. ‘We’re travelling to Southampton. We can pay on the train, can’t we?’

  ‘Yes ‒’ the man conceded. ‘Be sure you do pay.’ Nicole was past him, and running down the terrible, horrible length of the train. The clock pointed to two minutes to departure.

  People were bundled in raincoats. The last goodbyes were being said. Every man standing on the platform looked alike, hats pulled down, collars up. And why would Lloyd be standing on the platform? ‒ unless there was someone to see him off? His could be any one of the hundreds of faces already lost behind newspapers and magazines, already settled for the journey. ‘Lloyd! ‒ Lloyd!’ She didn’t know she cried it aloud. As she ran, one of those rain-coated, batted figures turned.

  ‘Nicole!’

  She didn’t know whether his arms opened to receive her, but she was there, and he was not able to deny her embrace. ‘Lloyd ‒ don’t go! Please, don’t go! Or take me with you … at least as far as Southampton. I’ve got so much to tell you. If you don’t understand by the time we get to Southampton ‒ if you don’t see that you’ve got to take me all the way with you, then I’ll get on the train and come back.’

  He looked down at her, ignoring the porter who was trying to urge him into the compartment, the whistle blows piercingly in their ears. ‘You’re sure, Nicky?’

  ‘Sure. Completely. And whatever happens ‒ whether you take me with you or not, I’m not going to marry David Ashleigh the day after tomorrow. I can’t marry him, Lloyd. I love you.’

  ‘Board. We’re leaving, sir. Please get on board.’

  Lloyd took her arm. ‘No, I’m not going.’

  A dawning light spread on Nicole’s face. She never cried, so it had to be rain that dripped from the platform overhang on to her cheeks.

  ‘Your luggage, sir? ‒ there isn’t time to get it off.’

  ‘Leave it. We’ll find a way of sorting it out. Or it can just travel all by itself to Boston … Come on, Nicky. You’re shivering.’

  The last doors were banged, and the train began to move. Neither of them took any notice of the carriages sliding past them. They were not part of the crowd that waved until the travellers were out of sight. They started towards the barrier. Judy was waiting for them there. ‘I saw you found each other,’ she said. ‘I just thought I’d wait …’

  ‘And there’s the matter of two platform tickets,’ the ticket inspector said. ‘And yours, sir?’ Lloyd produced his train ticket. ‘You were supposed to be on that train,’ the man said, outraged.

  ‘A lot of things were supposed to happen,’ Lloyd said. ‘Perhaps some of them will, now.’

  Irritably, the inspector made change out of the pound Lloyd offered for the platform tickets. ‘You can get a refund on this ticket by returning it to the Station Master’s office. It’s valid for one month,’ he snapped.

&nbs
p; ‘We might have used it by then, and bought another,’ Lloyd answered.

  Judy left them, and they sat alone in the station buffet for the next two hours, alternately drinking strong, dark tea, and brandy. Lloyd ordered toasted crumpets for Nicole, who protested that she couldn’t eat anything, and then cleaned the plate and asked for more. She wore Lloyd’s raincoat; she had stopped shivering long ago.

  As she ate and drank, she talked. ‘I have to go right back to the beginning. That’s the only way I can tell it. Right back to the time when you said I should have been kissed by small boys, and I told you I never was. That was the truth. There was a whole lot I left out and that’s where the lies were. I’d better begin with my mother, Anna …’

  The rush hour came and was about finished, and still they sat; still Nicole talked. Lloyd kept pouring tea, and signalling the waiter for more brandy.

  At last the man interrupted, ‘Will you be wanting dinner, sir? If so, I’ll just lay the table …’

  ‘No, just two more brandies … and some cheese and biscuits.’

  ‘Cheese and biscuits, sir? As a starter?’ The man was shocked. ‘What about a few oysters instead, sir? Lovely month for oysters.’

  ‘Cheese,’ Lloyd said. He had an urgent need to put food into Nicole, a need that he recognized as one of the oldest, least complex symptoms of love. Looking over their brief history together, it seemed to him that he had spent a good deal of time urging Nicole to eat. God knew, at this moment, he thought, she looked as if she needed food. The face, which he had always considered on the fine balance between delicacy and asceticism, seemed to have gone over the edge. She seemed to flame with a kind of transparent beauty which threatened to burn itself out.