When she mentioned the invitation to her grandmother on the phone that night Mrs Murry unpredictably sounded quite excited. 'I'd love to go, I've been dying to see this lovely house for myself.'
'It's a long drive,' Judith warned, taken aback. Of course, Luke wouldn't be around, she wouldn't be running the risk of being alone with him again, but she still felt unwilling to go because the place would always remind her of those moments when Luke kissed her and told her that he loved her. She was trying very hard not to remember the piercing happiness she had felt then.
'I'm not senile, a long drive won't kill me,' Mrs Murry protested, very offended.
On the Friday evening Judith came out of her office to make her way to the lift and met Luke bound the same way. Some of the office staff were in the corridor; both Judith and Luke smiled politely at them and each other. It was such a farce—Judith was tempted to laugh at their pretences except that she didn't find it funny, either her sense of humour had gone on the blink or the nagging pain inside her made -it quite impossible to laugh at anything.
Luke was carrying a tan leather suitcase. She looked at it, asking: 'Going away for the weekend?' as if she had no idea he was off to Paris, and Luke nodded.
I'm combining business with pleasure and spending a couple of days over in Paris. I'm seeing Rene Larchain for lunch tomorrow.'
She nodded. 'Well, good luck with him—on the phone and in his letters he sounds very tricky.'
Luke's mouth was wry. 'He is,' he agreed, and his brief glance at her reminded her how well he knew the man. 'But I'll manage,' Luke added, and she was sure he would.
They went down in the lift together. It was so crowded that she was forced into the corner and felt Luke's hip touching hers all the way down, aware of his dark sleeve brushing her breast as he shifted to make more room. Most of the office staff got out on the ground floor, they would be taking trains or buses home, but Luke and Judith went down to the underground car park two floors below. They walked side by side towards the bay in which their cars were parked; each department had its own bay. The shadows and sudden crude pools of yellow light from the overhead strip lighting made the place ominous, Judith heard their footsteps echoing on the concrete walls. Luke paused beside his own car, looking at her.
'Have a good weekend. Try to relax, you're like a piece of stretched elastic lately. Take the whole weekend off, don't do any work at all.' His voice was rough, his hand moved to touch her arm, then fell again.
'Have a good time in Paris,' said Judith, equally husky, and Luke got into his car. He was already driving away before she had switched on the ignition; she sat and watched the orange flare of his tail lights vanishing before following him up the steep ramp into the daylight.
Next day she did the weekend shopping and had coffee in the pedestrian precinct near her flat, went back to do her housework and then had lunch and spent the rest of the day with her grandmother. It was fine, a warm summer day; Judith sunbathed in a deckchair while Mrs Murry pottered about among the roses; cutting off withered heads and dropping them into a wicker trug, bending to sniff the scent of the opening white and crimson buds. Judith closed her eyes and let the tranquillity seep into her bones; she was so tired she found it hard to relax, to let go of the various pressures which had been driving her all week. She had had to screw herself up to face them and now it wasn't easy to slacken and unwind; she felt slightly dizzy. When Luke gave her that job she knew he had flung her a challenge which she hadn't wanted to refuse. The work was difficult, she hadn't had any real idea how testing it was—it had taken her almost a month to work herself into the job, but she knew she had done it. The hours and hours of relentless paperwork were paying off. She might have found it much easier if her life had not been complicated by having fallen in love with Luke; she felt as if she had been caught in a vice for weeks. Her jaws ached with weariness.
'I think I'll take some of these roses down to Mrs Doulton,' her grandmother murmured. 'I suppose she has masses of flowers in her garden.'
'Masses,' Judith agreed, then opened her eyes and smiled at Mrs Murry. 'But I've no doubt she'd love to get your roses, she has flowers everywhere in the house. It would be a nice gesture.'
Next morning they set off to drive to Kent. Mrs Murry carefully laid a huge bunch of roses on the back seat; she had cut them earlier and Judith saw among the dark red petals the odd glassy drop of dew. The fragrance of the flowers soon filled the car as the day grew warmer, she opened the windows wider because the scent was almost cloying.
Fanny took them up to see Mrs Doulton as soon as they arrived; Judith felt her staring at Mrs Murry, Fanny was curious and, she suspected, slightly jealous. She was possessive towards Mrs Doulton, they had been together for years, they must have shared a thousand secrets, even if Mrs Doulton hadn't always realised how much of her life Fanny shared. The old woman couldn't have lived in the same house without finding out most of what went on, perhaps she had lived vicariously through Mrs Doulton, almost believing that she herself was part of that world. Judith sensed that Fanny preferred it when there were no visitors; she was old, she did not like strangers.
'What beautiful roses,' said Mrs Doulton as Mrs Murry laid them on the bedside table a moment later. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time; Judith has told me so much about you—it's very kind of you to come to see me, I hope the car journey wasn't too tiring. '
'Certainly not!' Mrs Murry said indignantly, bristling.
'Do sit down. '
Mrs Murry sat on the chair Judith hurriedly forward. 'You have a very charming house; have you live here long?'
'I bought it after my husband died; I needed something to occupy my mind, I didn't want to spend all my time brooding and our home in the States held too many memories, I couldn't get over his death while I was there.'
'I couldn't bear to leave our home,' Mrs Murry explained. 'For that very reason—all the memories. '
'We all cope with it in a different way, I suppose. I felt I ought to go away, to leave Luke room—taking over from his father wasn't easy for him, he was still so young and most of the men he worked with were much more experienced. They kept trying to bring me in to support them, it made Luke feel that they were putting him down all the time, rubbing it in that he wasn't old enough to have control of the firm. It might have ruined our relationship if it had gone on much longer— I had to get out of the way.'
'You have daughters, too, don't you?'
'Two—did you have any daughters?' Mrs Doulton broke off to look at Judith who was fingering one of the roses. 'Oh, Judith, would you take those down to Fanny and ask her to put them in water for me? I wouldn't want them to wither.'
'Surely,' said Judith, getting up and gathering the roses into her crooked arm.
Mrs Doulton smiled at her. 'Why don't you go out and swim? Fanny will find you one of Angela's swimsuits to wear—it's such a lovely day, it seems a waste for you to spend it in here.' She looked at Mrs Murry. 'We can have a chat while we drink our coffee,' she added.
Judith went down the stairs, smiling to herself. There hadn't been room for her in that conversation, they had had too much to say to each other, but she felt she had been dismissed like a child from an adult chat, not hurtfully, because the dismissal had been given too kindly, but firmly. She had been sent out to play, they were going to discuss experiences she had not shared and could not quite understand. Fanny took the flowers from her and began to trim them before filling a green glass vase with water and putting the roses into it.
'Mrs Doulton said I could borrow one of Angela's bikinis.' Judith told her as she watched.
'Top drawer in her dressing-table,' Fanny said huffily. 'You can't miss them; there's nothing else in that drawer. You can get a towel from the bathroom airing cupboard.'
'Thank you,' Judith said politely, and left her to finish arranging the roses; she was doing so with rough impatience as though the velvety flowers were recalcitrant children she was hustling about.
Judith spent the rest of the time until lunch swimming in the blue-watered pool; a few white petals blew from the climbing roses which clung to a trellis nearby, she watched them floating on the top of the pool, it made her feel like someone in a film except that the petals gradually turned brown at the edges and began to sink. She was relieved to see no sign of Angela and her family; obviously they were going to be alone for lunch. When she got back to the house to her amazement Mrs Doulton was downstairs, sitting in a wheelchair in the sitting-room, talking to Judith's grandmother as they both sipped tiny glasses of sherry. Judith had never seen Mrs Doulton out of bed, she had supposed that Luke's mother was permanently bedridden, but when she asked about it Mrs Doulton laughed, shaking her head.
'Oh, no, I’ve only spent so much time in bed because of my operation. It wasn't a success and the pain was so bad that couldn’t face trying to walk far, but I'm finding it easier to move about lately. My doctor tells me I must make myself get up at least once daily, even if it's only to walk to the bathroom.' Mrs Doulton made a face. 'I'm a coward, I'm afraid. I hate pain.'
'Fanny and I helped her downstairs,' Mrs Murry told Judith. 'I've been telling her, she either ought to have a lift installed or sleep downstairs. When she's alone here Fanny wouldn't be able to get her downstairs.'
'In a few months I'm going to have another operation in the hope of getting it right this time,' Mrs Doulton said to Judith. 'I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a bed or a wheelchair—these hip operations are very delicate, but hundreds of people have had them successfully now, my doctor tells me. It was just bad luck that mine didn't quite come off.'
'I thought you said you were a coward,' Mrs Murry teased. 'It seems very brave of you to consider having another go.'
'Anything is better than lying about all day. The problem is that with a weak heart the doctors are reluctant to risk long operations, but they say they think they can do something.'
Judith felt a qualm of anxiety; she was already very fond of Luke's mother, she was frightened by the idea of her going into another major operation. Did Luke know what she planned? How would he feel about it?
They had lunch in the sunny dining-room; Fanny had placed the green glass vase of roses in the middle of the table, their perfume saturated the air and Mrs Doulton looked at them with pleasure. 'I love to be surrounded by flowers; one of the things I've missed most all these months has been my garden. I'm a great gardener, I was planning a water garden down in the park, but I haven't been able to get round to starting it because of my illness.'
'I love gardening,' Mrs Murry agreed. 'I haven't got room for a water garden, of course, but what an exciting project—what were you thinking of having? Lilies, irises…'
Judith watched a greenfinch pecking at the fruit on a cherry tree which grew not far from the dining-room window; the cherries were formed but unripe as yet, their white flesh must be very tart.
They drank their coffee in the sitting-room, Judith nursed her cup and listened while the other two women talked about gardens. They were obviously getting on very well, the conversation never flagged, they sometimes interrupted each other in their eagerness to agree, or argue against what the other was saying. Mrs Murry wasn't always easy to get on with, she could be rather sharp and obstinate, her prickly sense of pride often caused difficulties with other people, but Judith could see that she and Mrs Doulton spoke the same language, and Judith was delighted by this surprising friendship.
'I'll bring you a root of that,' Mrs Murry promised as they talked about a rock plant which Mrs Doulton did not know. 'It's originally from the Himalayas, you won't find it in a nursery unless you're lucky.' Mrs Murry's tone amused Judith; her grandmother's satisfaction in being able to give Mrs Doulton something was quite audible. It didn't surprise Judith; Mrs Murry hated to accept kindnesses unless she could repay them, that was why she had insisted on bringing the roses with her.
'You are kind,' Mrs Doulton said with reassuring gratitude. 'I'd love to have a root of it—I wonder how it will transplant? Our earth must be much richer than yours, do you think it likes a more acid soil?'
Judith switched off; she was no gardener. Surreptitiously she glanced at the clock, it was gone three and she must suggest leaving soon.
Mrs Doulton stopped talking, her head to one side in an attitude that reminded Judith of a missel thrush on the lawns around the house, listening for worms. 'Now who is that?' she murmured. 'Did you hear a car or am I imagining it?'
Mrs Murry listened, too. 'I do hear voices,' she said, and Judith stiffened, her cup rocking in its saucer. She held her hand steady, listening intently. Yes, she could hear-Luke's voice. She had known it; hadn't she known he would arrive? He must have flown back from Paris this afternoon. Why had he come down here? But then she heard Baba laughing and her colour drained away. Baba was back. She was back and Luke had brought her down here to see his mother. He wouldn't do that if he wasn't happy to go through with the marriage. Judith's emotions collided inside her like a train crash; anger, pain, humiliation, resentment all toppled one on the other.
The door opened and Baba smiled at them all. 'Hallo, surprise, surprise!' She was wearing a very chic powder blue dress with a matching jacket cut to hug her small waist; she looked terrific, but then she always looked terrific, there was nothing new about that. She was talking vivaciously as she walked in with Luke at her shoulder. 'Isn't this weather gorgeous? I was afraid it would be pouring with rain when I got back to Heathrow. This is super!'
'How did you like California, Baba?' Mrs Doulton asked.
'Oh, fabulous—I'm really sold on it, I hated to leave.'
'We have a nice house in Vermont, I'm sure you'll like that, too,' Mrs Doulton said, and Luke gave her a wry smile. He hadn't looked at Judith, he was wearing an expression she found difficult to read, the only word she could think of to describe it was wary. Luke looked like a man very carefully watching where he put his feet; she wasn't sure what that meant.
'I'm afraid Baba wouldn't think much of Vermont—there isn't a big department store within fifty miles and it rains too often.'
'Oh, Luke, don't tease,' said Baba, tossing her hair back and laughing.
Judith switched off. She did not want to hear any of this, and so she missed the moment when her grandmother suggested taking Mrs Doulton for a walk around the garden. The first Judith knew of what was being discussed was when Luke pushed his mother out of the room with Mrs Murry hurrying ahead; Judith looked up and Baba sat down next to her on the sofa and gave her a suddenly nervous smile.
'I wish Luke hadn't brought me here this afternoon— I want to talk to him, but I can't decide what to say and this isn't the place we can talk, anyway. I went to see him at the minute I landed at Heathrow and he was just about to leave to come here, so he said: come on with me. So I came.' Baba made a little face, half laughing, half worried. 'I don't know what to do, Judith, that's the truth. '
'About what?' Judith asked with reluctance. She did not want to discuss Luke with Baba, but she couldn't think of a way of stopping Baba without being rude.
Baba looked at her, then at the door. They heard Luke talking at the front door. Baba lowered her voice. 'Well isn't official yet, but . . .' Suddenly her whole face lit up and Judith saw that she was luminous with excitement behind her smile. 'I've got the part!'
'Congratulations,' said Judith, trying to sound as happy as Baba was. 'That's wonderful! I'm so pleased for you. '
'I’ve been hanging on over there because Joey, the director making the film, said he was sure he could talk the producer round, he wanted me there so that I'd be on hand whenever the producer came to see him. It was nerve-racking Judith; I thought I'd bite my nails down to the fingers! But yesterday morning the producer said okay, I could do the film. He couldn't get anyone else, you see; I was the only one halfway suitable and my only drawback was that I was unknown.'
Judith listened as Baba talked on and on about the film, Beverly Hills, the director and his wife, who
had become a close friend, the wonderful life style they had and how much Baba had loved it all.
'Have you told Luke?' asked Judith, and Baba stopped smiling and shook her head, her eyes worried.
'I don't know how to break it to him. If you were me, Judith, what would you do? I can't bear to give up this part—but then there's Luke ... I won't see much of him for ages. Most of the film is being shot in the studios; I'll have to live in Beverly Hills. I'll get an apartment, my agent's over the moon about how much I'll be earning. I'm moving into a new income bracket entirely.' Baba stopped as Judith moved restlessly. Baba kept getting away from the point at which she held Judith's interest; she was too excited about the film to be able to keep her mind on the subject of Luke, and that was all that interested Judith. Baba gave her a helpless, pleading look, her big blue eyes wide. 'Oh, Judith, what am I going to do about Luke? The idea of getting married at the moment is out—we'll have to postpone it for at least a year. My agent can't make up his mind whether it's good publicity or not—Luke's big news, of course, but it might be better if I was free.' Baba smiled to herself and Judith wondered why, then Baba said: 'What would you do if you were me, Judith?' again and Judith felt like hitting her.
'Don't ask me!' she said coolly. 'You must make up your own mind—it's your life.'
'Of course, I'm mad about Luke,' said Baba, but the statement didn't ring true, not any more Judith looked at her with disbelief. 'He's absolutely fabulous and I want to marry him, but I couldn't bear to give up the film—I've got to think about my career. If everything worked out, I could be a big star in a year's time! I'm absolutely torn, Judith darling.' She gave Judith a tragic look and Judith wondered if she was rehearsing a big scene from the film. 'What do you do when your heart tells you to go one way and your head tells you to go another?' Baba asked her, and Judith was very tempted to scream.
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