I laughed. ‘It’s sweet of you to want to save me from drudgery. Now come and have supper and while you’re eating you can tell me what you’ve been doing.’
To protect our clothes we put a napkin over the smoked salmon stain on the window seat and while Kit ate cold roast beef and potato salad, I trifled with some delectable prune mousse, a recipe from the fat pink book to which I would be grateful until my dying day.
‘We had the usual crazy stampede at the office to get things done by Christmas,’ Kit said. ‘As though December the twenty-fifth is some kind of apocalyptic watershed, beyond which the universe will metamorphose into something unrecognizable. Then I had to hotfoot it to Norfolk. Mama had invited no fewer than three families with marriageable daughters. I engaged each one in exactly fifteen minutes’ talk before moving on to the next, in strict rotation. If I offered one a drink, I took the next one nuts and pulled out a chair for the third.’
‘It was kind of you not to excite false hopes.’
‘Now, Bobbie, don’t get sarcastic. Of course I didn’t suppose the girls gave a damn whether I noticed them or not. It was because Mama’s eyes were everywhere, measuring, assessing, divining. I wanted to save her the bother of scheming, as tiring as it would be futile.’
‘You don’t sound as though you like your mother very much.’
‘I wonder if Boudicca’s children liked her? Or Livia Drusilla’s? They probably admired their mother’s industry and her refusal to admit defeat. But we have nothing in common. Neither of my parents read books or look at paintings or do anything which might make them question the absolute rightness of their views. Their lives are exactly what they would have them be. They’re terribly spoilt, in fact.’
‘What’s made you different?’
‘Aha! Perhaps I delude myself that I’m different. But don’t let’s talk about me. Much too dull.’
‘No one really thinks that, do they? The truth is, you’re secretive. Evasive, even. Like those birds – plovers, aren’t they? – that lure predators away from their nests by trailing a wing and pretending to be injured. I think you’re hiding something: a wife and six bonny children; or perhaps you’re a bigamist or a train robber.’
‘What a romantic you are, though you pretend to be so practical. That dress is perfectly stunning.’ He ran his finger from the point of my shoulder down to my elbow. ‘And you in it.’
Now it was my turn to divert the conversation from myself. ‘We’ve all made terrific efforts to do Curraghcourt credit. I’m sorry you missed Violet’s grand entrance. You’ll be astonished when you see her: she’s so much better. And Liddy looks bewitching. Where is Liddy?’ From where we sat I had a good view of the hall through the open double doors. I had been keeping a check as she rotated slowly past at regular intervals in the arms of Nigel. ‘I’d better go and check on her.’
‘Surely your duties don’t include nursery-maiding?’
‘It isn’t duty. It’s affection. Have another drink. I shan’t be long.’
During an interval to allow the musicians to slake their thirsts the younger guests were sitting on the stairs. I spied Nigel among them, talking to Francie Synge, the golden-hearted girl from the bar of the Fitzgeorge Arms. This was reassuring but where was Liddy? There was no sign of her in the drawing room, the library or the kitchen. Finn was standing in what was apparently his favourite place, by the fire, between two women. They seemed to be vying with each other for his attention. His expression of profound boredom would have amused me if I had not been concerned about Liddy. I walked over to them.
‘I’m looking for Liddy,’ I said. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘Probably in her room.’ Finn crossed his arms. I had noticed that he often did this in reaction to me. ‘Let me introduce you. Grania Lake, Helen Fitzpatrick, Bobbie Norton.’ He began to slide away from us, no doubt with the library in mind.
‘How do you do?’ I said, detaining him with a look. ‘What’s the matter with Liddy? Is she unwell?’
‘I told that stupid boy she was dancing with that he’d better remember that she was sixteen and there were laws against what he had in mind. He said she said she was nineteen.’
‘Poor Liddy!’
‘I objected to the way he was trying to tear off her frock. Daughters are expensive to clothe these days.’
The two women giggled like schoolgirls. The one in red with false eyelashes, to whom I had taken an immediate dislike, put her hand on his arm in a custodial way. ‘Finn, darling, you can’t fool me with such cynical talk. You adore Phyllida.’ She pouted coquettishly. ‘No man is good enough for your precious little girl. When the day comes to take her down the aisle you’ll be weeping like a baby.’
Finn tried to disengage his arm. ‘I hope common sense will prevent me from making such a nauseating spectacle of myself.’
She took a swig of punch and tightened her hold. ‘They’re very … very lucky children to have such a handsome father to take care of them. It’s what all we girls want, really, whatever those women’s libbers say. They’re all so unattractive, poor things, they have to have some bows to their strings.’
‘How cruel you are, Grania.’ The other woman leaned her full weight against him and staring up adoringly with unfocused eyes. ‘I’m sure Finn admires impe … inpedendent women, don’t you, darling?’
Finn pushed her gently upright. ‘I like women who can stand on their own two feet.’
‘Was Liddy upset?’ My voice may have been a little sharp.
‘Isn’t this young lady your housekeeper?’ Grania’s eyes beneath the false lashes were hostile. ‘Don’t you have washing up to do?’
The band began to play again. Finn frowned at me. ‘Before you tackle those dishes, Cinderella, we’d better have that dance.’
‘What dance?’ I asked. ‘Besides, my foot …’
‘Yes, come along.’ He put his arms round me and swept me into the middle of the floor. I repressed a cry of pain when he trod heavily on my toe. ‘Sorry. I had to escape those harpies.’
‘You could have invented an urgent telephone call.’
‘I didn’t think of it.’
‘You may be responsible for serious damage. Think of the hospital bills.’
‘It was you or me. Naturally I chose me.’
We danced further away from the fireplace and the furious stares of Grania and her friend.
‘You’ve just made me two enemies for life,’ I said reproachfully.
‘All good-looking women have enemies.’
A pause during which we danced to the farthest point from the fire.
‘That was a compliment.’
‘Yes. It was stupid of me.’
We circled for a while in silence in our dark corner. The band was playing ‘The Londonderry Air’. The candles burned brightly, with a mysterious halo. I wondered if they needed snuffing or if I was just hopelessly drunk.
‘Timsy’s been doctoring the punch, you know.’ My voice sounded faraway even to me. ‘I feel rather … unlike myself.’ I seemed to be on fire and yet I was ice cold at the same time. The room had become enormous and echoing as though it had expanded to a vast cavern and the other dancers had withdrawn to an immense distance, leaving us to revolve slowly in isolation.
‘I’m afraid that won’t do as an excuse.’
‘An excuse for what?’
He did not reply immediately. Then he said, ‘Does your foot hurt much?’
‘It’s agony, actually. You’ve already trodden on it several times which hasn’t helped.’
‘I’m a rotten dancer.’
I smiled at his starched shirt front. ‘Hopeless.’
We turned slowly on the same small piece of floor.
‘This isn’t a good idea, is it?’ he said after a while.
‘No.’ I dragged my thoughts from a succession of fractured dreams. ‘You’ve just kicked my bad ankle.’
‘Sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry!’
I felt his left hand tighten round
my right one.
‘I’m sorry, too.’
‘What a pair of fools!’ He looked down at me and I saw that expression which had so alarmed me the day before.
I shut my eyes, knowing it was in my own. ‘Speaking for myself, nothing could have been further from my intention.’
‘You don’t think I wanted this? I’m in enough trouble as it is.’
‘We can behave like sensible, rational people and put a stop to it right now.’
‘Of course we can.’ He pulled me closer and I felt the warmth of his hand on my neck. ‘That’s reassuring, isn’t it?’
I leaned against his heart. ‘Wonderfully reassuring.’
‘Daddy. Daddy!’ A voice was buzzing like a bumblebee in a foxglove somewhere on the edge of the world.
‘What is it, Flavia?’ Finn released my hand in response to the tugging on his sleeve.
‘Osgar’s got his teeth into Lady Butler-Maddox’s fur cape-thing and he won’t let go.’
For what seemed like an age he stared down at his daughter. ‘I’d better come,’ he said at last.
He let go of me. I felt as desolate as if I had been shut out on a dark and wintry night.
In the drawing room Kit was wrestling manfully with a growling Osgar and the tippet before a gathering crowd.
‘That dog ought to be put down,’ said Grania, who had pushed herself forward. She clutched Finn’s coat. ‘You shouldn’t keep such a dangerous animal. Look what he’s done!’
Kit’s wrist was bleeding.
‘Stand back,’ Finn commanded Kit. ‘Dogs are pack animals. He knows I’m his master. He won’t bite me.’
Several women screamed as Osgar sank his teeth into Finn’s hand.
‘You bloody little—’ He collected himself. ‘You damn well should be put down.’
‘Daddy! Promise you won’t!’ Flavia pulled at his coat. ‘Bobbie, you won’t let poor Osgar be put down! He can’t help it. He doesn’t know any better.’
‘My tippet!’ moaned Lady Butler-Maddox.
‘My hand!’ said Finn.
‘A lot of asses you are!’ Sissy strode into the circle around Osgar. ‘Will you shut your noise?’ she addressed Grania, who was clinging to Finn and wailing.
‘Be careful, girl.’ The monumental bulk of Michael McOstrich loomed over Sissy. ‘You’d better keep away. ’Tis man’s work.’ He leaped back as Osgar lifted his lip and snarled savagely.
An unnatural brilliance came into Sissy’s eyes. From the back of her throat issued the unearthly half-whistle, half-purr over three notes that was her lion-taming song. As soon as he heard it Osgar dropped the tippet and crouched down, whining. Sissy picked up the fur and handed it to Laura Butler-Maddox. ‘Sleep, sir,’ she instructed Osgar, who rolled over on to his back and allowed her to rub his stomach with her foot. Despite her small stature, she looked Olympian, a warrior-goddess with her prize at her feet. The apple-green greasepaint that had run into streaks hardly detracted at all.
‘How did you do that?’ Michael asked while people exclaimed and applauded and Lady Butler-Maddox examined her foxtails minutely. ‘I’ve never seen not’ing like it. A pishogue, was it?’
‘No! ’Twas just a trick.’ Sissy looked pleased to have caused a sensation. ‘I can make all animals obey me. I could make your cows give double the milk if I liked.’
‘You could?’ Michael stared at her with new interest.
‘Let me tie that for you,’ I said to Kit who was trying to bind his wound with his handkerchief. ‘You look rather white. Is it painful?’
‘There’s some cognac in the library,’ said Finn. ‘Help yourself. I’m going to find some lemonade for the punchbowl.’ He levered Grania from his arm and gave her into Basil Molesworth’s keeping.
In the library I poured Kit a glass of brandy and stoked the fire. ‘How is it? I could get you an aspirin.’
‘What? Oh, my hand. It’s nothing.’ He went to stand with his back before the flames. ‘This cognac tastes most peculiar. Like cherryade. That’s odd. Finn’s usually so fussy about what he drinks. Or at least his grandfather was.’
I went to examine the decanter. Round the rim was a slick of black.
‘That’s Sissy’s special jam. You mustn’t drink it! It might make you ill.’
Kit looked astonished and put his glass down quickly. ‘That girl’s trying to poison him? Nor Hell a fury, eh? I’ve already had two mouthfuls.’
‘Do you want some salt and water?’
‘No, thanks. That punch is stronger than stomach acid. Wait here. I’ll get two more glasses.’
When he returned I examined him anxiously for any sign of ill effect.
‘You still look pale.’
‘Do I? If so it’s nothing to do with the cognac.’ He wiped the neck of the decanter carefully, then poured a glass for each of us. He took a sip, rolled it around his tongue then looked at his glass reflectively. ‘I saw you dancing together.’
‘What? Oh, you mean with Finn just now? Yes, it was an excuse to escape two rather awful women.’ I turned away to put the stopper into the decanter. ‘He’s a hopeless dancer. My poor foot’s been trampled to a pulp.’
‘You’re in love with him. I saw it.’
‘Oh, what rubbish! What are you talking about? Of course I’m not! Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘If not, why are you angry? Look at me.’ I turned to face him and met his eye squarely. He smiled. ‘You can tell me, you know. We can still be friends, can’t we? Even if my own hopes are dashed.’
‘I’m sure I could.’ I made myself speak calmly. ‘Tell you. If there was anything to tell. But there isn’t.’
He continued to look at me speculatively. ‘I hope that’s true. For your sake as well as mine. You’ve some experience of the mess that results from loving a married man, haven’t you? And this time there are three children in the case.’ When I didn’t say anything he laughed without enjoyment in the sound. ‘How ironic! No one but priests or prudes could blame Finn for consoling himself with another woman when his wife lay in a coma. What’s more, he’d probably have been forgiven for ditching girlfriend number one – not very suitable, after all – for his beautiful, superior housekeeper. But now that Violet’s been restored to the bosom of her family, people will think the very worst of a man who could abandon a pretty, defenceless woman just when she needs all the help she can get.’ He shook his head pityingly. ‘And it was you who woke her up.’
‘I quite agree. It would be base treachery to desert her. For any reason. And I’m sure he has no intention of doing so.’
‘Come here, Bobbie.’ I went to stand next to him on the hearth rug. He took my hand. ‘Tell me the truth. You can trust me. I want the best for you. Of course I’m horribly jealous – it can’t be a surprise – I’m not good at hiding my feelings whatever you say about my duplicity – I’m in love with you. And that means I’d hate you to be unhappy.’
‘Kit!’ I was moved by this confession and the gentleness in his voice, so different from his usual joking manner. ‘Oh Kit! I’m so fond of you—’
‘Are you in love with Finn Macchuin?’
‘No!’
‘Prove it. Kiss me.’
I was so eager to deny the accusation that before my fuddled mind could work out the sophistical reasoning behind this request I lifted my face to his. He put his glass on the chimneypiece, put his arms round me and looked hard into my eyes. When he put his lips on mine I knew I had passed the test.
‘Bobbie, Bobbie!’ He kissed me harder. I forced myself to respond with enthusiasm. I liked Kit. I wanted to love him. It would be the perfect solution. So often I had declared with cold certainty that love was a matter of will. Now I must put my theory to the test. ‘Darling Bobbie!’ He pressed me closer and groaned. ‘I want you so much!’
What had I been thinking of? That a few kisses would be enough? When his hand began to travel from my neck across my bare shoulder-blades and down to my waist I leaned back within the circle of h
is arm. ‘Kit, I’m so sorry. I’m not sure I’m quite ready – it was such an awful experience, Burgo and I …’ I felt myself grow hot with shame.
‘It’s been six months.’ I could hardly blame him for a slight incredulity in his voice.
‘But it was so traumatic having the whole thing blown apart in public. It’s ridiculous, I know. I just have to take things slowly. I can’t explain.’
‘You don’t have to.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s whatever you want, darling. I have no rights.’
This was true. But if so, what on earth did I think I was doing? I dismissed the idea that there had been some arrière pensée on Kit’s part which had led to this disturbing situation. But I felt at every moment more deeply committed to something I did not want.
‘You’ve made me so happy already.’ He ran his finger lightly down the naked part of my breastbone, stopping at the top of my dress. ‘Kiss me again. I won’t ask for anything else until you give the word.’
I was so grateful for this concession that I complied willingly. I heard the library door open and Kit stopped kissing me to look up. By the time I had turned my head, whoever it was had gone.
‘I really must go to bed. My foot’s killing me. It’s been an exhausting day.’
‘Of course, my darling. I’m just being selfish, wanting to prolong the glorious moment. There’ll be lots of other times. It’s just that I’ve wanted to do this for an age. In fact, ever since I saw you doubled over the rail on the ferry, feeding the fishes. Naturally I wasn’t in love with you then. That was plain lust. It took a night under the stars to convince me that my feelings for you were not merely lubricious.’ He laughed and I was a little reassured by the return of his usual facetious style. ‘I’ll see you to the foot of the stairs.’
As we walked through the drawing room Basil looked up from his cards and waved. Maud glanced from Kit’s face to mine. Her mouth twitched. Then she jabbed Basil’s arm with her pencil to make him concentrate on the game. There was no sign of Liddy anywhere. Nor of Nigel. Michael McOstrich and Sissy were dancing together, the top of her head just reaching his watch-chain. I felt too distracted to register more than a passing gratification at this advancement of my scheme. Finn stood by the fire, with Grania by his side. She was talking earnestly. I saw him nod his head then turn to stare into the dark recess of the chimney.
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