‘It’s so nice of Freddy to come, really charming. And I thought it might be nice if we invited the Dunbars. I would like that very much. Would you mind?’
‘Well of course I wouldn’t mind, Daddy, I love them both, specially funny old Martin, but they’re not family, are they? Well, not strictly family.’
‘No, they’re not, but Mummy was so terribly fond of them both. It would be a nice sort of link with her, I feel. And Catriona was so good to me when Mummy died. I couldn’t have managed without her. I just feel they would make the evening complete somehow.’
‘Well, it’s your evening,’ said Georgina, kissing him, ‘and you must complete it however you like. And they’re certainly more family than Angie’s gran.’
‘Yes,’ said Alexander, who had taken the news that Mrs Wicks was to be present with great equanimity. ‘Yes, indeed. I am looking forward to seeing Angie again. I always rather liked her, you know.’
‘No,’ said Georgina, surprised. ‘No, I didn’t know.’
The day of the party was perfect: ‘Very mists and mellow fruitfulness,’ said Melissa.
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ said Max.
‘Oh, you wouldn’t recognize it,’ she said loftily. ‘You’re so illiterate, Max. It’s Keats. “Ode to Autumn”. Isn’t it, Uncle Alexander?’
‘Quite right,’ said Alexander, smiling at her across the breakfast table. He was in a perfect mood. Georgina had gone riding with him earlier and they had cantered through the parkland and up the hill to the top of the Great Drive. Hartest sat below them, looking more than usually as if it had been carved out of the landscape itself, the grey stone merging into the drifting mist, the windows reflecting the hazy light of the clearing sun. ‘It’s so lovely isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I never stop thinking how lucky we are.’
Alexander smiled at her, put out his hand to touch hers.
‘Good,’ he said, ‘that’s exactly how I want you to feel. All of you.’
They sent him off after lunch, to do things on the estate; Georgina phoned Martin Dunbar and asked him to keep Alexander busy. ‘He’ll just get in the way,’ she said, ‘offering to help and everything. Do you mind, Martin?’
‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘You know I’d do anything for you, Georgina.’
Georgina was surprised; he was not usually so effusive. Perhaps he’d had rather too much wine with his lunch.
Kendrick had decorated the front hall with great swathes of greenery from the woods, and Melissa had spent the afternoon fixing fifty candles into fifty saucers, and setting them all around the Rotunda and up the stairs. Baby and Angie arrived at five o’clock, and Baby and Kendrick moved the piano from the morning room into the Rotunda. Baby had promised to play after dinner, and people could dance if they liked. ‘But not “You’re the Tops”,’ said Georgina. ‘It will simply upset Daddy.’
Charlotte, who had arrived the day before with Freddy, and had plainly been expecting to take over everything, had simply told Georgina after the first hour that she had done a terrific job, and asked, quite humbly, what she should do. Georgina was so thrown by this she couldn’t think of anything, and Charlotte and a distant Freddy were reduced to helping Mrs Tallow in the kitchen.
Charlotte seemed altogether not quite herself, slightly subdued, rather jumpy, and considerably thinner. Every time the phone rang, she looked very edgy, and at one point she disappeared in her car and went off for an hour or so, returning looking rather more relaxed. She said she had been for a long walk to get over her jet lag; Georgina was surprised, Charlotte’s constitution was of such strength that she had never been troubled by jet lag before. She was clearly wary of Freddy, and there was something of a frost between them; they avoided one another whenever possible, and Charlotte was inclined to shoot sharp little glances at him before she spoke; if Georgina hadn’t known her sister better, she would have thought she was afraid of Freddy.
Tallow had lit log fires in all the downstairs rooms; by dusk, the house was filled with a sweet-smelling warmth. Alexander, who had been sitting in the library with two of the dogs, stood up abruptly at seven o’clock and said, ‘I’m going up to get ready. Otherwise I shall fall asleeep and be a pooper at my own party.’
He put his arm round Georgina’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘I know you’ve done most of the work,’ he said quietly, ‘and thank you. Give your old father a kiss.’
Georgina gave him a kiss. She watched him as he walked out of the library, in his shabby old cardigan, and his socks pulled up over his jeans, and thought how much she loved him, and she felt very aware suddenly of the sense of family in the house, of closeness and happiness. It didn’t always work, in fact it very often didn’t, but when it did, it was unbeatable, the most tangible sense of security, of strength. Nothing could threaten them, nothing could harm them. It was a feeling of pure and very gentle joy.
Charlotte stood up.
‘Quiet please,’ she said. Everyone was quiet. Charlotte had that effect on people.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘I certainly don’t intend to make a speech.’
‘Oh, what a shame,’ called out Max, grinning at her over his glass.
Everyone looked relaxed and happy, Georgina thought. It had been a magically successful evening. Even Martin, usually so shy, was sitting next to Angie and talking more animatedly to her than Georgina had ever seen him.
When he was not talking to Angie, he was listening to Mrs Wicks, who was on the other side of him and who clearly saw it as her social duty to put him at his ease. Mrs Wicks was also having a wonderful time, drinking glass after glass of Dubonnet and bitter lemon, which went down much better with rich food, she said, than wine. She had arrived in a hired Rolls with a uniformed chauffeur, wearing a bejewelled crinoline that would not have disgraced the Queen Mother, and bearing a huge bunch of red and silver balloons saying ‘Happy 50th Birthday’. She had insisted on tying these to the rail of the flying staircase; it was a tribute to Alexander’s great courtesy that he thanked her most graciously and agreed that they did indeed brighten the room up a bit.
Georgina stopped looking at everyone and turned her attention back to Charlotte, who, she was aware, was looking at her rather pointedly.
‘I just wanted to say two things: first thank you to everyone who’s helped to make this party such a success, and especially Georgina who’s done most of the organizing. Georgina, everyone!’
‘Georgina,’ said everyone, and raised their glasses to her. The tribute was totally unexpected; she looked at them in the candlelight and it blurred with her tears. ‘Thank you,’ she said rather weakly.
‘And the only other thing I am going to say,’ Charlotte’s crisp voice broke through her emotion, ‘is would you raise your glasses to Alexander on this perfectly lovely occasion and say, yet again, happy birthday.’
Everyone stood then, smiling, and toasted Alexander, saying his name first disparately, then in unison; he sat smiling, looking with a charming and patent delight into the faces of his family, flattered, youthened by the candlelight.
‘Doesn’t he look wonderful, I could quite fancy him,’ whispered Melissa hoarsely to Max. Her remark caught a silence as they all sat down again, and everyone laughed.
‘Thank you, Melissa,’ said Alexander, ‘may I say the compliment is absolutely reciprocated. Thank you all. Thank you for coming. It has been the most wonderful evening.’
‘It’s only just begun,’ said Georgina, who had slipped over to the light switch and dimmed the chandelier. ‘Mrs Tallow, we’re ready.’
Mrs Tallow and Nanny came into the room together, bearing, on a silver tray, a vast cake or rather two, in the shape of a five and a zero, each loaded with candles; they all sang ‘Happy Birthday’, and then: ‘Come on, Daddy, blow,’ said Charlotte, and he stood again, laughing, and bent and blew hard at the cake and all the candles went out, and everyone clapped. Then Baby stood up, holding up his hands.
‘I would like to say a few words now. About o
ur great admiration for you, Alexander, for the role you have played as master of Hartest and head of your family, the charm and grace you have brought to it, and the courage too, in recent years. I know that all your children particularly, and mine too, feel a great affection and warmth for you. I don’t think it will cast too much of a shadow to say that I am sure that somewhere, somehow, Virginia is with us this evening. If only in our thoughts and our memories.’
There was a slightly tense silence; then Baby raised his glass again, and said, ‘Alexander. Our Love.’
‘And now, Daddy,’ said Georgina, when the clapping had died away, ‘Kendrick and I have a very special present for you. You may have noticed there was nothing from us.’
‘I didn’t,’ said Alexander. ‘So ungracious an observation could not have crossed my mind.’
‘Well anyway. Nanny, Mrs Tallow, could you hold the door open for us please? And Tallow, could you maybe help us carry the present in?’ She and Kendrick went out of the room. There was a long silence. Nobody spoke. Then slowly, carefully, they came in again, bearing their gift. Alexander, expecting he knew not what, saw as if in a dream, materializing out of the soft darkness, his house coming towards him, magically smaller, but exquisitely and perfectly beautiful, the grey stone, the great windows, the curving steps, the Palladian pillars, the huge front door; he held out his arms to it, as if to a friend or a lover, his face solemn, intense with delight.
‘Oh my dears,’ he said, ‘my dears. How very very wonderful.’ And then he was silent and his blue eyes filled with tears, sparkling in the candlelight. There was a great stillness in the room; nobody moved as he stood, gazing at it, his eyes moving over it, drinking it in.
‘We made it,’ said Georgina, finally, ‘Kendrick and I, we knew you’d like it more than anything. It comes to you with our best love.’ And she leant forward and kissed Alexander’s cheek, and then with Kendrick set the model carefully on the floor.
Alexander sat down, brushing the tears from his eyes. ‘You did know, my darling, you did indeed,’ he said. ‘Thank you. Thank you, Kendrick. How hard you must have worked. Oh, I don’t deserve so beautiful a present.’
‘Yes you do,’ said Charlotte, bringing the room briskly back from its slightly strained emotionalism, ‘that’s what birthdays are for, for getting what you deserve. Now you’re not allowed to sit and play with it, because we want you to open all your other presents in the Rotunda. Not that they can compete with that, but they certainly deserve looking at.’
They all stood up; Alexander led the party out of the dining room, his arms round Georgina’s and Kendrick’s shoulders. Angie and Baby followed, holding hands, and then the rest of the table.
‘Let’s dance,’ said Kendrick, and held out his hand to Georgina. ‘I wanted to tell you how beautiful you look. That dress is sensational.’
‘Oh Kendrick, you are silly. With competition like Angie and Melissa, I look like one of the ugly sisters.’ She glanced anxiously at her reflection in the tall window; she was wearing a long, slithery, white crepe dress, cut on the bias: ‘Very Ginger Rogers,’ Melissa had said when she first saw it.
‘Georgina, I can only presume you’re fishing for compliments. I never heard such nonsense. You are twice as pretty as either of them. They’re like – like flashy little orchids, and you are a very cool, aristocratic lily.’
‘Well, thank you,’ said Georgina, smiling just a trifle too quickly, ‘you look pretty good yourself, Kendrick, if I might say so. That is a tremendous outfit.’
‘Thank you,’ said Kendrick modestly. He was not wearing a dinner jacket like all the other men, but white tie and tails, the tailcoat vintage 30s, his shoes patent Fred-Astaire-style lace-ups; he had arrived complete with cloak and top hat. ‘I got it in the Village last winter.’
‘Why do you think you like clothes so much?’
‘I like all visually pleasing things. Houses. Paintings. Clothes. You,’ he added, smiling into her eyes. ‘Georgina, please relax. I don’t know what’s happened to you lately. Don’t you like me any more?’
‘Oh Kendrick,’ she said, her eyes filling with easy tears, ‘I do like you, of course I do.’
‘And now you’re crying again. God, you’re a nightmare. What’s the matter now?’
‘I’m not sure. I feel odd. Very emotional. I expect it’s the occasion.’
‘Well, that’s allowed. You can be emotional. As long as it’s friendly emotion. Friendly to me, that is. My God, look at Angie, she certainly is coming on strong at that extremely tall neighbour of yours. She surely can’t fancy him?’
‘Angie could fancy anyone, I should think,’ said Georgina, slightly sombre, ‘but actually I can see it. Martin is so mysterious-looking, so sort of tortured and – well, romantic I suppose. He looks as if he has some deep dark secret that he’ll never reveal to anyone.’
‘Well if anyone can get it out of him, Angie will,’ said Kendrick. ‘Now do be careful, Georgina, you looked quite normal and cheerful for a minute then.’
She was dancing with Alexander when Angie, walking just a little unsteadily, came towards them, holding out both her hands.
‘This has been a lovely party,’ she said. ‘Thank you for asking me. I feel part of the family already.’
‘You are part of the family,’ said Alexander. He was clearly very taken with her. Georgina found it irritating, a piece of grit in the honeyed mixture of her evening.
‘No I’m not,’ said Angie, ‘not nearly. Not Mrs Praeger yet, not by a long shot.’
‘Maybe not. But I’ve always thought of you as family,’ said Alexander. ‘Virginia counted you as one of her very closest friends. I haven’t forgotten your kindness to her. So – welcome back.’ Georgina stared at him. He was not usually so forthcoming; in recent years he had been almost pathologically shy. Maybe because Angie was part of so much the distant past he found her reassuring. ‘May I perhaps have the pleasure of this dance?’ he said. ‘Georgina darling, do you mind?’
‘Of course not,’ said Georgina, feeling more embarrassed than ever. She looked around wildly for something else to concentrate on and caught sight of Mrs Wicks, who was jiving very energetically with Kendrick, her jewel-encrusted skirts flying. ‘Your grandmother is having a wonderful time, Angie,’ she said.
‘Yes she is,’ said Angie, smiling at her sweetly. ‘It was so kind of you all to invite her.’
Alexander took her into his arms and started moving very slowly to the music; Georgina watched them, slightly awkwardly, as Angie pressed her body against his, rested her head on his chest. She was clearly very drunk.
When she saw Angie pull her father’s head down towards her, whisper something in his ear, Georgina turned away.
She moved over to one of the windows, and stood looking out at the park. ‘There’s a car coming down the Great Drive,’ she said suddenly. ‘I wonder who on earth it can be, calling at one in the morning.’
‘Oh, could be anyone,’ said Baby, going to join her.
‘Let me see.’ Max looked out at the approaching lights; he was very pale. ‘Are you expecting someone, Max?’ asked Angie. She was looking at him very curiously.
‘No. No, I don’t think so.’
The car pulled up at the bottom of the steps; a very large white Daimler. A man got out, looked up at the house. ‘Oh Christ,’ said Max.
‘What is it?’ said Alexander. ‘What on earth is the matter, Max? Here, let me go out.’
He opened the door, looked down the steps at the car. Georgina and Kendrick followed him.
The man was very tall and heavily built, wearing a greatcoat over denims, and cowboy boots; he gazed up at Alexander for a moment, then grinned and walked slowly up towards him. As he reached the top of the steps, he held out his hand.
‘Lord Caterham?’
‘Yes. How can I help you? Do come in.’
‘Thanks.’ He moved into the house; Georgina stood aside, staring at him; she felt extremely frightened and she wasn’t sure why.
She felt for Kendrick’s hand; he gripped hers, held it tightly, aware of her fear while not understanding it. The man had an American accent; as he stepped into the house, they could see that he was tanned, that his eyes were startlingly blue, his wide and careful smile showing oddly perfect white teeth; and that he was overweight, that the blond hair was greying, that the boots were scuffed and down at heel.
‘Hi,’ he said, ‘I see you have a party going. I’m sorry to disturb you. Soames-Maxwell is the name, Tommy Soames-Maxwell.’
‘Yes?’ said Alexander again, politely puzzled.
‘Is Max here? Oh, hi Max, there you are. Nice to see you again. I promised you I’d look you up and I have.’
‘You know Max then?’ said Alexander.
‘Oh sure, I know Max. Intimately, you could almost say. Chip off the old block, Max is. As you would say over here. Aren’t you, Max?’
Max was silent. His face was greenish, sweating slightly.
‘I’m afraid I don’t understand,’ said Alexander. He sounded slightly less polite.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Soames-Maxwell smiled at him again. ‘Of course not. Let me put you into the picture a little. I – knew your wife, Lord Caterham. Extremely well. I was so sorry to read that she had died.’
‘Thank you,’ said Alexander. Georgina noticed that he was clenching his fists, that the bones of his jaw were taut.
‘Did she ever mention me?’
‘No,’ said Alexander firmly, ‘no, I don’t believe she ever did.’
‘Well, I’ll put you in the picture a little some time. It’s Max I’ve really come to see.’
Wicked Pleasures Page 50