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O, These Men, These Men!

Page 15

by Angela Thirkell


  “Nothing, thank you. Coffee afterwards. Francis, I’m too stupid to drink at all today. I would lose my head altogether if I did.”

  “I am sorry about that, because I wanted to talk to you about something rather worrying.”

  Francis’ idea of a tactful beginning was not well received.

  “Worrying?” said his cousin. “I have been doing nothing else since breakfast. Francis, how could you, how could you know that James was in London and not tell me? Not let Anna tell me?”

  “But Caroline—”

  “I didn’t think you could be so cruel. To let me hear it just by chance.”

  “But I was going to tell you myself. Anna saw him after the cinema and told me, but we couldn’t stop and discuss it in the street. Our one idea was to get you away safely. We wanted to talk over what we were going to do, but we couldn’t till you had gone to bed. Then Anna said – but didn’t she tell you?”

  “That doesn’t matter. Who were ‘we?’”

  “Hugh and Anna and I,” said Francis patiently. “Then Wilfred came in and we wanted to talk it over with him too.”

  “But why did Wilfred know? He wasn’t at the cinema.”

  “He had got the news from Paris.”

  “But why Paris? Francis, what are you talking about?”

  Falling from depth to depth of discomfort, Francis was finally obliged to tell the whole story of the Christmas cards, of the conspiracy, of Wilfred’s visit to Paris.

  “We did so hope, Caroline, that he would go back to South Africa. Then you need never have known.”

  “I suppose it didn’t occur to you,” said Caroline angrily eating an omelet, “that there was a chance of his coming over suddenly and my meeting him?”

  “We thought we knew all about his movements.”

  “Is there anyone who didn’t know all about him?” cried Caroline in exasperation. “You and Hugh and Anna and Wilfred and George—”

  “George?”

  “Of course. It was like Russian scandal all over the house today. George telling his father and mother and they letting it out to me and no one knowing who knew anything. Oh, my goodness!”

  “I would like to thrash George. He came in last night rather full of beer and heard something of what we were saying, and he promised he wouldn’t say a word.”

  “Oh, my goodness, how can people be so silly? The solidarity of men accounts for half the trouble in the world. Just because George is a man you trusted him. I’d have locked him into his room, anything, sooner than run the risk of his talking. He gave his parents a frightful shock. They are longing to see James of course, but they don’t know where he is. Where is he?”

  “My dear, I wish we knew. Hugh is our best link with James’ world and he is trying to find out. He might be anywhere. He might be that man who has just come in, over there, hanging his coat up.”

  The man who had just come in was quite sufficiently like James from behind. Caroline, only saved by the breeding that teaches one never to be conspicuous in public, did not faint, but she clutched Francis’ arm, murmuring unreasonably, “Hide me.” The man, who was by no means James from the front, passed to his seat. Francis, feeling Caroline’s hand slipping limply from his arm called a waiter and ordered brandy at once. When it came, Caroline had recovered herself enough to drink it and be grateful.

  “I am very sorry, Francis,” she said in her polite child’s voice. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “My poor child, it was my fault. I was a fool. I didn’t consider you. What a brute I am.”

  “Men do so enjoy saying that,” murmured Caroline.

  “You don’t think much of men, do you?”

  “Do you mean I don’t think much of men, or I don’t think much of them?”

  “I mean – you know very well what I mean, Caroline.”

  “Well, in that sense, why should I? Look at you and Hugh and Wilfred all making a conspiracy as if I were a fool, and then not having the wits to keep it a secret but letting George know so that he can frighten his father and mother to pieces and me too. Oh, Francis, I didn’t think you could. Hugh and Wilfred are rather thoughtless, but I thought you had some kindness.”

  “So I have. More than you know. More than you’ll let me tell you. More than you have for me. If I made a mistake in trying to keep James’ return from you, I’m sorry. But I still believe I was right. Caroline, we all did it for you. Are you going to hate all of us? And Anna too?”

  Caroline dipped her sugar into her coffee and watched the brown stain rise. Then she ate the sugar and at last looked at Francis with her deep gaze.

  “No. I’m going to hate none of you and certainly not Anna. I have been ungrateful and foolish and lost my temper as usual. I’m sick of thinking about myself; why can’t I stop? If you all try to be so kind to me I might at least show a little gratitude by sitting back and not worrying. Francis, let me talk a little about myself. I don’t often do it, do I?”

  “Would you like some more coffee while you talk?”

  “Please. Francis, I don’t know why you should be kind to me. I was quite brutal to you, and I haven’t forgotten it and I’m still ashamed of it. It wasn’t myself, it was the fear in me. You see,” she said slowly, stirring her coffee round and round and looking downwards all the time, “if you have been badly married you have rather a fear of men. You know that some of them are kind, but something in you won’t let you believe it. That’s why I wasn’t at all charming to you that day, after William’s lecture. It was not you, dear cousin Francis, that I wanted to hurt, it was just men in the lump or abstract, and you happened to be handy. And if one ever gets over that, I don’t know. Also it doesn’t matter for me now.”

  “Do you think you could make an effort, Caroline?”

  “Of course. I make one every day to go on with life at all.”

  “I’d shake you if we weren’t lunching in public,” said Francis. “You are sick with self-pity, Caroline. God knows you have had enough to bear, but that gives you no right to go on being as sorry for yourself as you are. You have got to make an effort and get out of this business of pretending that you don’t care if you live or die. And you have got to listen to me when I tell you again that you are my dearest love forever, even if I have to wait for you to stop being silly, which may be a very long time. Is that clear?”

  Caroline, who shared her sex’s intense enjoyment of being scolded by an admirer, looked hopefully at him, expecting more enchanting revelations about herself, but Francis had finished.

  “That is just what William said,” she remarked with the voice of a cat purring in the sun. “Thank goodness he comes to town today.”

  “William?”

  “Colonel Beaton, as you very well know or you would have asked me that before when I mentioned him.”

  To her great satisfaction, Francis flushed angrily.

  “He is a very safe person,” she continued. “He will be able to tell me what to do.”

  Ravaged by jealousy, Francis turned on Caroline.

  “You needn’t ask Beaton,” he said. “He is in the conspiracy too. He cares for you enough to worry about your peace of mind like the rest of us. If you want to know what to do, ask me, not Beaton. The only thing is that if you do decide to see James, or he makes a fuss and forces you to, get Beaton to be there.”

  “But Francis, I thought you—”

  “Never mind what I thought. But if I saw James with you I’d kill him. Beaton would behave like a civilized man and a man of the world. If James needs killing, just let me know, but I am not much use in a drawing room.”

  “I expect we are all fusing about nothing,” said Caroline with an intolerable affectation of calm, while Francis fumed at the muddle he had made of what he wanted to say. “Thank you for a delicious lunch.”

  She could not forbid Francis to hold her coat up for her, nor could she prevent the very lingering way in which he put it on, letting his hands rest for a moment on her shoulders; nor did she wish to.
/>   “Will you forgive me for being hateful and stupid, which is just being myself,” she said as they parted outside the restaurant. “I will try to be good and, Francis, you make me feel rather ashamed of myself. I think I could face more things since you scolded me.”

  “I should like to scold you every day and if you aren’t careful I shall kiss you just here in the middle of the street. Caroline, may I ask one thing?”

  “I can’t stop you. You have me at a disadvantage on the public pavement.”

  “Caroline, when I was rather a bore in my study the day of Beaton’s lecture, I very rudely and impertinently asked you a question about your caring for anyone. Could I ask it again without offending you?"

  “Do you mean if I cared for anyone?”

  “Do you care, not for me, I won’t ask you that, but for any other man?”

  Caroline looked at him and through him to some place of safety of her own, her head a little on one side as if she were listening. A faint color spread over her face. Then she withdrew her gaze from that remote region and Francis found her eyes looking into his.

  “Truthfully,” she said in a low voice, “there is no man that I care for as you mean it.”

  “Is that all you can say?”

  “If ever I do, you shall be the first to know. But I think I am meant to be alone.”

  “Bless you. And remember to let me know if you want me at any time, night or day.”

  Caroline laughed and left him, but her heart was singing. The weeks of semi-alienation from Francis had hurt her far more deeply than she would confess and it was bliss to have said she was sorry and for all to be well again. With Francis to guard one and William not so far away, one need not fear very much. When she got home, she sought Anna and hugged her very heartily, so without any words there was affection between them again.

  Julia Beaton came to tea, with word that her father would look in shortly. She soon made Caroline take her up to her sitting room to have a delicious talk about clothes. Julia intended to get all her spring things in Paris where she and Hugh would have to go on business later, but even so her lists of London shopping seemed endless.

  “We are to be married in London after all, you know,” said Julia, “for no particular reason that I can see and have a week in Devonshire and then we go straight to the flat. Oh, haven’t you seen Hugh’s new flat? Of course you couldn’t, he only took it yesterday. It is furnished of course and we only stay there till we go to Paris and then anything may happen. It’s all divine. Oh, Caroline, isn’t Hugh divine?”

  “Well, he is my cousin, so it’s difficult to say, but I think he is very clever and very lucky to have found you.”

  “I can’t think why he didn’t marry you,” said Julia. “You would have looked divine together.”

  Caroline felt no pain as she answered:

  “Lots of reasons. To begin with I was married. And then just about the time I began to get unmarried, you turned up. Also, Hugh never asked me.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “I think it is perfect as it is.” Julia had not said, “You didn’t mind.”

  Julia appeared to grapple for a moment with the problem of someone who didn’t mind if Hugh didn’t marry her.

  “Well, Caroline, that is all too divine,” she said. “And I am furious about your horrible James coming back. Just trying to spoil our wedding. Hugh saw him today and I believe he is coming to call here, but you mustn’t mind. I do hope he is reformed. I would hate to have an unreformed person at my wedding. Do you think we ought to invite him? I would so much rather not. You don’t mind my talking about him like this, do you, but I do dislike him so excessively on your account.”

  Caroline found that she didn’t mind, and was quite grateful to her foolish young friend for her championship. But that James might call at Cadogan Square was a bewildering thought.

  Julia continued her chattering and was enchanted by a Spanish shawl that Caroline gave her, improvising a Spanish dance in its honor. In the middle of the dance, a knock was heard at the door and Colonel Beaton came in.

  “William! I am so pleased to see you,” cried Caroline.

  “I am pleased to see you, my dear. Has my silly daughter been bothering you?”

  “Of course I haven’t, Father,” said Julia. “I simply kept Caroline amused until that horrid James had gone.”

  Caroline looked apprehensively at Colonel Beaton, but she was not sorry for herself, she was anxious about Mr. and Mrs. Danvers.

  “I gather from Anna,” said Colonel Beaton sitting down, “that an attempt to keep the news of James’ arrival from you was a failure. Perhaps it was as well. There are nasty places that one has to face in this world and it’s no good shirking them. Would you like me to go on, Caroline?”

  Caroline nodded. Julia composed herself to temporary silence.

  “Hugh found James this morning. At least James walked into his office and tried to borrow money. Hugh, and quite rightly as I think, said he wouldn’t do anything for him until the Danvers’ knew about the situation. So he gave him lunch and brought him around to me with instructions to keep an eye on him. James wanted to see his parents, so we came too.”

  “How is he?” asked Caroline, not so sorry for herself as for Colonel Beaton.

  “Quite well. In fact surprisingly well for a man who has led his kind of life. You see Caroline I’m talking to you as man to man – it’s the only way I can talk. James is a very charming man. He has his father’s manners and his mother’s looks, and you were quite right to marry him, quite right. Only an older and more experienced person could have guessed the weakness in him. I know his type. He can fill himself up with drink and remain charming for hours and days, and then there will be a very nasty collapse. I needn’t tell you about that, Caroline. Anna,” he said as she came in, “I am telling Caroline about James’ visit. I think it was a success with your people, wasn’t it?”

  Anna looked at her sister-in-law.

  “I would prefer to hear it all,” said Caroline.

  “Mother and Father were overjoyed,” said Anna. “How James manages to look so young and well today after the face we saw last night, I can’t think. But he does.”

  “One day he will have that face once too often, and that will be the end,” said Colonel Beaton.

  “He was very nice to them,” Anna continued, “and very friendly to me. William was too noble for words and kept conversation going. Hugh has just been in and taken him off to Francis’ house.”

  “Oh, Father, Hugh promised—” Julia began.

  “Be quiet,” said her father. “If you weren’t going to be married in a fortnight I’d turn you out of the room.”

  “Did he mention me?” asked Caroline.

  “He said he often thought of you and how sorry he was,” said Anna.

  “How horrid of him,” said Julia.

  “Yes, it was,” said Caroline slowly, “but very clever.”

  “You are clever to know that it was clever,” said Colonel Beaton. “You are a diplomat, Caroline.”

  “I am a diplomat, too, Father,” said Julia. “It was my idea to take Caroline upstairs and keep her amused till that horrid James had gone. You didn’t suspect anything, did you, Caroline?”

  “Be quiet, Julia,” said her father. “Now, my dear,” he continued, resuming his conversation with Caroline, “I don’t want to alarm you, but be prepared for his cleverness. For some reason – it may be to get money, to get sympathy, I don’t know what – he is being very charming to everyone, saying in his charming disarming way how bitterly he regrets his behavior to you all and how he has thought of you as a guiding star ever since. The minute I hear a man being sentimental about a woman that he hasn’t treated well, I know exactly what to think of him. Julia, I want to talk to Caroline alone.”

  Julia made a whirlwind curtsy with her Spanish shawl, kissed Caroline and ran out of the room.

  “Shall I go?” asked Anna.

  “No. I want to talk to
you too. I want to explain my own selfishness.”

  Both young women protested loudly against this self-accusation.

  “Thank you both,” said Colonel Beaton, “but it is selfishness not entirely for me, but for Julia. I do want to keep things smooth, at least on the surface, till my Julia is married. I have my hands and my heart pretty full just now, but after St. Valentine’s Day I shall be only too glad of occupation, and I will keep Master James under observation and try to find him a job in South America where I can pull some strings.”

  “Thank you,” said Caroline, but so half-heartedly that Colonel Beaton had to ask what she meant.

  “You are an angel, William,” she said, “but have you thought that James probably won’t want to go to South America. He likes London very much.”

  “I had thought of it. But it is no good worrying ahead.”

  “And till the wedding we will all do our best,” said Anna. “Francis and Wilfred will help. George won’t be much good, but I can always be a stopgap. Let me know if I can take James on. He is my brother after all, you know,” she said apologetically to Caroline.

  “It’s very good of Francis to have him to stay,” said Colonel Beaton, getting up to go.

  “I didn’t know,” said Caroline faintly. “Francis didn’t tell me.”

  “They only decided it this afternoon. Hugh wants to move into his flat at once so that he can get his work arranged before the wedding. So Francis has asked James to stay with him for the present. Well, we shall be meeting again soon, so it isn’t goodbye.”

  Anna went downstairs with Colonel Beaton. While Julia was saying her goodbyes and collecting her gloves, hat, coat, and bag which were strewn about all over the house, Colonel Beaton spoke to Anna as they stood waiting in the hall.

  “You are still the mainspring and the mainstay of everything,” he said. “If anyone can help James, you will, you and Francis. But don’t try yourself too much. Your youth mustn’t be used by James who is, I fear, in spite of all his charm as selfish and impossible as they make them.”

  He took her hand and kissed it.

 

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