An Irresponsible Age

by Lavinia Greenlaw

  ‘This room is for you,’ said Barbara, behind him.

  He sat down on the bed and felt himself sink into this house at the end of a lane at the southernmost tip of the country.

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘I know,’ said Barbara and stepping back into her own room, closed the door.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Three months passed. Juliet had grown stronger and continued to work. She found a job in one of the university libraries and started to look for her own place to live. From time to time, she phoned Theo and they went to see a film or had dinner or walked along the river.

  She made him a promise: ‘I’m going to take you over every bridge in London.’

  ‘All in one go?’

  ‘No.’

  They parted at bus stops, in Tube stations, on street corners and at taxi stands, and always Juliet would lean forward to kiss him holding herself so that no other part of their bodies touched, and then she would be gone and Theo would remain as if the city had gathered itself around this scene and would not let him step back from it.

  ‘What happened to Jacob Dart?’

  ‘He was married.’ As if that were the real reason.

  The day before Theo flew home for Christmas, they met in a bar at the top of a tower. The weather forecast had warned of a record-breaking fog and while Juliet imagined a cloud descending, what happened was more as if the air gradually outweighed itself.

  Juliet and Theo drank martinis and watched the domes, spires, towers and pinnacles of the city come and go.

  ‘I thought there would be nothing to see,’ Juliet said, ‘but I’ve never seen it like this. And I do like this invisible drink. The only reason I can tell there’s anything in the glass is because of how cold it is.’

  ‘It could just be a cold glass.’

  Theo wanted to bring Juliet’s attention back to the room, and him.

  ‘I hope it’s cleared by tomorrow so I can get home.’

  ‘If it doesn’t, you’ll have to stay here.’ Juliet imagined Theo with them for Christmas at Botolph Square, playing Monopoly with Fred and hide-and-seek with Bella, or maybe the two of them alone in a cottage by the sea or on a hotel balcony somewhere hot …

  ‘I have to get back. I have to see Melissa.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘You don’t understand. I’m sorry, I mean I haven’t explained but that’s because she doesn’t know. I haven’t told her.’

  Juliet sipped her drink and nodded. Theo relaxed. She waited but he said nothing more. ‘I didn’t quite catch what it is you have to tell her.’

  ‘Like I said, that I want it to be over.’

  ‘You didn’t say –’

  ‘So I shouldn’t be telling you.’

  ‘You want it to be over.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is that a different thing to making it be over?’

  ‘I don’t know. I have to see her.’

  A waiter set down a bowl of olives and collected their empty martini glasses with a sweep of his hand. He raised an eyebrow to Theo who nodded, and two more drinks were brought.

  Juliet drew back and looked out. ‘Don’t do anything because of me.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I’m not going to be the cause of something and I don’t know what I –’

  ‘You’re not. What were you saying? That you don’t know what you –’

  ‘I’m not? Good. Not that I presumed, I just don’t want to be the … not if otherwise everything would be …’

  ‘Juliet,’ he said, leaning across the table to take both her hands in his. ‘I know you’ve been sick and that you’ve still got a way to go.’

  ‘It’s never going to end, not unless they empty me out entirely. They have a nice word for my condition – frozen. Everything is glued together and in January they’re going to try to prise it all apart. I already have one scar, and that’s not healing too well. It’s quite purple. And I have to pee all the time. Doesn’t that put you off?’

  ‘You’re going to be better.’

  ‘Possibly. Better than this, but it’s never going to go away entirely, not unless I have half a dozen children although from what they say, having one might be difficult enough.’

  ‘Do you think about what happened last summer?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said, with no change of tone, ‘all the time.’ It was true. She went home from an evening with Theo and lay there remembering as much as she could of how he felt and tasted.

  ‘Don’t do anything because of me,’ she said again, trying to be clear.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any grand gestures up my sleeve, not like Jacob Dart, travelling thousands of miles to surprise you.’

  ‘Maybe I was just the furthest place he could run to.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound as if you liked him very much.’

  ‘I realised I don’t believe in him.’

  ‘So how can he exist?’

  ‘Because someone else does.’ She needed to be clear. ‘I don’t know what I felt about him. My brother died, I was full of pills, I went away – the whole time I knew him, I was never myself, so I don’t know.’

  ‘And when you met me?’

  ‘I don’t know except … you made me happy and with Jacob, even when we were at our best, I wasn’t happy.’

  ‘Are you happy now?’

  ‘Are you?’

  For a moment she thought Theo was about to shrug and if he had she would have walked away, but he was only raising himself to lean forward and whisper in her ear.

  Without qualification, the word travelled immediately and deeply.

  The Clough family did not spend that Christmas together. Clara and Stefan took the children to Geneva, Carlo went with friends to Miami, and Mary took Bella to visit her mother in the Welsh borders. The doctor and his wife served lunch to the homeless for a charity in Salisbury. No one missed Allnorthover. The Clock House had been sold to a Dutch scientist who turned out to be the new director of the nearby animal-research centre. The Cloughs, among others, had been trying to get the place shut down for years.

  A week before Christmas, Caroline had taken Fred shopping and as he twirled in the green tweed coat she had picked out for him, announced that she was going away.

  ‘I have to go back for a bit,’ she began.

  ‘I know,’ he said, still twirling. He liked the way the coat flared and flashed its tangerine silk lining.

  ‘Oliver’s pretty low and there’s a lot to sort out.’

  Fred stopped twirling. ‘Oliver? I thought you meant you were going to see your parents. You do that every Christmas, Caroline Twerp! You don’t spend it with Oliver, or me, but with your parents; it’s what you do!’

  ‘Take the coat off. You’re turning pink.’

  She lifted it from his shoulders and handed it to an assistant along with her credit card.

  On Christmas Eve, Caroline phoned from Hong Kong to tell Fred that Oliver was in hospital. In the six months that she had been away, he had done his best to drink himself to death and she did not feel able to return to London, at least not for now. Fred spent Christmas Day eating chocolate and drinking champagne cocktails while Juliet tried to work but kept falling asleep. Theo phoned from San Francisco and she felt light with happiness and then wondered about Jacob.

  When everyone was back, Fred demanded that the family see in the New Year at Botolph Square. He even invited his parents.

  The day began quite well. He got up early, put the champagne to chill, and went out to buy flowers. When he got home, there was a pool of vomit at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Mary hurrying towards him with a bucket and mop. ‘It was Bella. She’s feeling rotten so I’ve put her to bed. I think she’s got a fever.’

  In the afternoon Francesca arrived, laden with packages and more flowers.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ asked Fred, taking her coat.

  ‘He’s hurt his back. Nothing serious, he just needs to rest. I’ve brought
you your pan forte and chestnuts.’

  ‘We always have them on New Year’s Eve and I forgot, my god …’

  ‘It’s alright, they’re here. So you can fill your stomachs before you all go out dancing.’

  ‘No dancing.’

  ‘What are you doing then?’

  ‘Staying here.’

  ‘But I’ve come to look after Bella so that you can go out, especially Mary.’

  ‘I thought you’d come to celebrate with us. We’re all celebrating together, here.’

  ‘Actually,’ put in Mary, ‘I have been invited somewhere and if it’s alright, I’d like to go.’

  ‘Where?’ asked Fred.

  ‘Of course you can go,’ said Francesca and seeing the look on the face of her youngest, her baby, ‘and Fred can go too.’

  ‘Go where?’ he asked, excited, and Mary was about to say yes, of course, he could come along when Juliet appeared in a new dress.

  ‘Is this alright?’ She looked cross, or at her most shy. ‘Is it really alright?’

  ‘You look beautiful, darling,’ Francesca replied, which did not count.

  ‘You really do,’ said Mary. ‘What would you call that colour … honey? Caramel?’

  ‘You make it sound sickly. Is the skirt too much? All that flounce …’

  Fred was impatient: ‘Well since you ask it might be a bit grand for where we’re going. And where are we going, Mary? Will we have time for champagne first?’

  Mary got changed and then went to find Fred, who was in the kitchen. ‘The thing is that I don’t know where I’m going because I’m being taken, by Alexander.’

  ‘A New Year’s Eve mystery tour, just the ticket!’ He opened the fridge to admire the row of chilling bottles. ‘Does Alexander like champagne? We could crack open a few bottles here and then take another along …’

  ‘No, I don’t know. Look Fred, you can’t come. It’s just us …’

  He stopped fussing and rushing about and looked at Mary. ‘That’s not your black dress.’

  ‘No, it’s red.’

  ‘Everyone’s been out buying new dresses. It must be quite a night.’

  ‘It usually is, or at least people hope it will be. I’m sorry.’

  ‘You look beautiful.’

  ‘That’s your mother’s line.’

  They were alone; everything stopped.

  Fred lifted his hand to her face, and she caught and held it. ‘Have you heard from Caroline?’

  ‘Oliver might die.’

  ‘I’m sorry – for her, for him, for you.’

  ‘She might never come back.’

  ‘I think she will. She’s tough and she’s clear and in her own peculiar way –’

  ‘She loves me?’

  ‘She does.’

  Fred nodded. ‘Fuck it, let’s start on the champagne.’

  Upstairs, they found Alexander.

  ‘We should wait for Carlo,’ said Francesca.

  ‘And Theo,’ said Juliet. ‘He’s coming straight from the airport.’

  ‘Carlo’s always late,’ said Fred, busying himself with glasses and a bowl of ice cubes. It was almost a party after all.

  ‘Isn’t it cold enough?’ asked Juliet. ‘It’s been in that monster of a fridge all day.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ said Fred. ‘The ice is ornamental.’

  Only Caroline might have pointed out that it would dilute the champagne, but she was not there. The rest of them took the glass they were offered and raised it in a toast, and to exclaim over the tiny flowers that the ice was releasing.

  Everyone made Fred happy for a couple of hours and then remembered their plans.

  ‘I made a reservation for nine,’ Alexander said to Mary. ‘We ought to go.’ Seeing Fred’s forlorn expression, he added, ‘Perhaps you and Caroline would care to join us, when she arrives?’

  ‘She’s not, she won’t,’ said Fred casually. ‘But thanks, yes!’ Mary caught his eye. ‘But no. I think I’ll stay put.’

  Juliet was leafing through a phone directory. ‘How do you find out if a plane has been delayed?’ No one was listening.

  ‘What’s happened to Carlo?’ Francesca asked. ‘He’s not answering his phone.’

  ‘He said something about going to a club. Don’t worry about him,’ said Fred, who was cross with his brother. ‘What time is it in Hong Kong?’

  Juliet put the directory down. ‘How many airlines fly out of San Francisco?’

  ‘We’re going to be late,’ Mary said, taking Alexander’s hand. ‘Happy New Year, everyone.’

  ‘You’re not coming back for midnight?’ Fred followed them into the hall.

  At ten o’clock, Francesca left Fred and Juliet playing cards and went to bed.

  ‘So what happened to the Dart?’ asked Fred.

  ‘It never really settled, I suppose.’

  ‘Did you love him?’

  ‘Yes, I think now that I did.’

  ‘It sounds tragic.’

  ‘Oh no, it was more comic than anything, a comedy of manners. Neither of us ever managed to say or do the right thing.’

  ‘But that’s not funny.’

  ‘A tragedy of manners, then. Can we have another drink?’

  Juliet went to the window and looked up at plane lights blinking in the darkness. It was impossible to tell where they were, let alone what direction they were headed in or how fast they were going. When you looked for them, and even if you could tell the difference between lights and stars, you saw more and more. Theo must be up there, stuck in the congested skies where people were forever arriving and departing.

  As Fred opened another bottle of champagne, the telephone rang. He rushed to pick it up, ‘That’ll be –’

  ‘It’s Theo!’ said Juliet, who reached the phone first. ‘Theo?’

  ‘Hi, we’ve only just landed. Is it too late to come round?’

  Juliet surveyed the empty bottles, the single lit candle, the television on with the sound turned down, and Fred. ‘Why don’t we meet somewhere else?’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘I know a place from where we can see right across the city. We should go up there and watch the fireworks, if you’re not too tired.’

  ‘I’m fine. Just tell me where and I’ll get there as soon as I can.’

  When Juliet put the phone down she said, ‘I love meeting Theo. It’s always so simple.’

  Fred passed her a glass of champagne.

  ‘I shouldn’t have any more if I’m going out.’

  ‘And I’m not going to raise a glass alone at midnight so let’s do it now.’

  Juliet took the glass. ‘Happy New Year,’ they said and kissed one another formally on both cheeks.

  ‘Things are getting better,’ said Fred. ‘Two years ago, Tobias died. This year you only almost died, so next year the most we have to fear is a serious injury.’

  Juliet went upstairs and began to take off the dress, then decided to keep it on and added thick tights, a jersey, a scarf and boots.

  ‘Do I still look alright?’ She asked Fred on the way out.

  ‘Surprisingly so. Like a ballroom dancer in the middle and otherwise a babushka. I tried to get you a cab but they’re not even answering the phones.’

  ‘That’s OK, I can walk.’ She wanted to. New Year’s Eve was a time when bad things rarely happened; even bad people’s minds were on other things.

  Every house Juliet passed made plain its level of celebration. The fullest rooms were brightly lit, and some had their windows open; candles wavered behind paper blinds and televisions chugged away behind drawn curtains. Some houses were locked and dark and in others there was a single light in a top room. There must have been hundreds, even thousands, of people who were alone, but Juliet did not notice any. Knots and gaggles of people went by, and most exchanged greetings with her. People overflowed from pubs, restaurants were full and everywhere there were added lights and music.

  Carlo had come home from the hospital exhausted. The problem was not,
he realised, the long hours he put in, other doctors did far more; it was how he had to concentrate in order to see what he had been trained to look for, and so as to ignore the rest.

  He had a shower and lay down before heading off to Botolph Square. He was only going because he had promised Fred. What he really wanted to do was meet up with some friends at a club. He shut his eyes and the world went out as if someone had hit a switch and he was more deeply asleep than he had ever been before. He would not stir till morning, when the celebrations would be over and he would wake from a number of senseless dreams.

  Clara carried her glass of champagne to the bottom of the garden where she sat on the wall and looked back at the house; so many windows. Stefan was happy about the baby and it would be alright because, after all, they loved their children.

  For years she had managed life as it had gone on expanding: more painting, more children, being here and in London, Stefan away. Then Tobias had died and it had been a relief to let slip, to allow life to come to her and happen how it wanted. Whatever had almost happened – to her, to Stefan – could happen again and end differently. She had to take charge.

  When Barbara told Jacob that she was going back to London for New Year’s Eve, he got in the car and came with her. They were going to Patrick Hyde’s party, as they used to. Patrick called it his ‘last fling’ before the start of his six months in Boston. The house was fuller and brighter than anywhere else. Jacob followed Barbara into the crowd but slowed until he could not help but lose sight of her so that there was nothing for it but to turn and walk back out again.

  Like others walking towards the hill that night, Juliet imagined that she and Theo would be alone up there. She envisaged the pale green slope up to the black bushes and the steeper green beyond, where they would stand at the top of the top and declare themselves to the city. Theo might build a fire.

  As she crossed the footbridge she saw a group of people ahead, and beyond them more people. From every side of the hill, they were converging.