Harriet

by Jilly Cooper

  Cory’s face was quite expressionless.

  In a daze, Harriet watched Chattie pulling at Noel’s coat.

  ‘Mummy, Mummy! Did you bring me a present?’

  ‘Yes, of course I did, darling.’ She turned round to Harriet with a mocking smile on her beautiful face. ‘I even brought a little cadeau for Harriet.’

  Harriet looked round and gave a gasp. She hadn’t noticed the slender, elegant figure in the black fur coat and dark glasses.

  ‘Hullo, Harriet, darling,’ said Simon.

  ‘Simon! Oh, my God,’ whispered Harriet. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her hand flew to her cheek. Then Chattie gave a shriek. ‘Look at Harriet! She’s hurt herself.’

  Looking down, Harriet realized that blood was pouring from her hand. Then the horrified faces in front of her started going round and round, and she lost consciousness.

  Darkness, sickness, throbbing pain engulfed her. The sound of different voices drummed in her ears.

  A wail from Chattie: ‘She’s not dying, is she?’

  Noel’s voice, steel-tipped with irritation: ‘Of course not, she’s only fainted.’

  Cory’s voice like gravel, harsh with anxiety: ‘Get back all of you! Can’t you see she needs more air?’

  Another voice, tender, caressing, languid. Could it really be Simon’s?

  ‘Everything’s going to be all right, darling, I’m with you now.’

  Then great whirling clouds of darkness coming down again, then slowly clearing and, suddenly, she opened her eyes and saw a face looking down at her, pale against the sable coat, a face she was only used to seeing in dreams, or disappearing in nightmares.

  ‘Oh, Simon,’ she croaked weakly, ‘is it really you?’

  ‘Hullo, baby. Yes, it’s me, but you mustn’t try to talk.’

  ‘I’m not dreaming, am I?’

  He smiled, but there were tears in his eyes ‘Not dreaming. Feel.’ He touched her cheek with his hand but, as she turned her head to kiss it, he said, ‘Lie still.’

  ‘Where am I?’

  ‘In a draughty ambulance. A bossy old fag’s been bandaging up your hand. You cut it breaking the glass on Cory’s watch in your pocket. Must have been the shock of seeing me. Flattering, I suppose, that I still have that effect on you.’

  That wasn’t quite right, but Harriet was too dazed to work out why.

  ‘Where’s Cory? And the children and everyone?’

  ‘Stop worrying about other people,’ he said soothingly.

  ‘Oh, Simon, you do look lovely,’ she sighed.

  It was exactly the right thing to have said. He smiled and dipped a lavender silk handkerchief in a mug of water beside her, and gently began to sponge the blood from the side of her face.

  ‘When you’re feeling up to it, I’m going to drive you to the hospital to have some stitches put in your hand.’

  Harriet watched him light a cigarette and insert it carefully in a dark blue cigarette holder.

  ‘Simon, Noel didn’t force you to come up here?’

  He looked mortified. ‘Oh, darling! Do you think I’m that much of a bastard? Borzoi and I broke up just after I saw you last. I’ve been trying to trace you ever since. No-one knew where you were — your old boss, your landlady, even your parents. I didn’t know a thing about the baby until Noel rang me this morning. I was completely poleaxed — half knocked out at finding you, half horror at what you’d been through.’

  He took her hands. ‘From now on I’m going to make the decisions, and I’m never going to let you go again.’

  At that moment, Cory came into the ambulance, and Harriet was furious to find herself snatching her hands away. He was wearing a battered sheepskin coat over his pink and grey silk shirt, and had to stoop in order to avoid banging his head.

  ‘Hullo, how are you?’ How austere it sounded, after Simon’s gushing tenderness.

  She struggled to sit up. ‘I’m all right. I’m sorry about your watch.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter at all, you only smashed the glass.’

  ‘I’m so pleased you w-won the race.’

  He smiled briefly. ‘Bloody good, wasn’t it? When you’re feeling stronger, I’ll run you over to the hospital.’

  ‘I’m taking her to the hospital,’ said Simon in his languid voice, tipping ash from his cigarette on to the floor just by Cory’s feet. The gesture was curiously insolent. ‘And then I thought we’d drive back to your place. I’m quite anxious to see my son.’

  Then Noel came into the ambulance. ‘I’m giving Harriet the weekend off, Cory,’ she said. ‘It won’t do Mrs Bottomley any harm to do some work for a change. She can easily take care of the children and William.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ snapped Cory. ‘Harriet’s lost a lot of blood. She’s going stright home to bed after she’s been to hospital.’

  ‘Cory,’ said Noel patiently, ‘these children haven’t seen each other for absolutely ages. They ought to be on their own together.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Cory brusquely. ‘They’ve got nothing to say to each other. It was all over years ago.’

  Harriet took no pleasure that these people were fighting over her. She felt a bit like a hostess with no drink in the house, invaded by a crowd of people. The mixture of heavy scent, antiseptic and French cigarettes was making her dizzy. Noel’s cold yellow eyes were boring into her.

  ‘I think I’d better go with Simon,’ she said.

  Harriet only remembered isolated incidents about the rest of the day. ‘I’ve booked in at a hotel down the valley,’ Simon said as he drove her back from the hospital. He put his hand on her thigh. ‘I hadn’t realized how much I’d want you. I’ve never met anyone who took to sex like you did.’

  Harriet felt overwhelmed by a great weariness. She was in no mood for a sexual marathon.

  Neither was Simon’s meeting with William the success she had hoped. William, woken from sleep, was red-faced and bad-tempered. Simon, after initial cooings and ravings, had no idea what to do with him. Holding him at arm’s length, like a bomb about to explode, fearful he might be sick over the beautiful fur coat, he handed him back to Harriet almost immediately.

  She had fantasized about them meeting for so long, the joy, the incredulity, it was bound to be an anticlimax. Simon couldn’t be expected to be as good with babies as Cory.

  She tried to shake off her depression as she threw clothes into a small suitcase, but she was gripped with the same feeling of menace she’d always had when packing to go back to school. She felt rather ashamed that she put in three novels she wanted to read and the remains of the sleeping pills Cory had made her get from the doctor. Sevenoaks and Tadpole sat around looking miserable at the sight of suitcases.

  ‘I’ll see you both tomorrow,’ she said hopefully.

  Just as she was combing her hair in front of the mirror, Cory walked in without knocking.

  ‘You’re mad to go off with Simon,’ he said harshly, speaking directly to her haggard reflection. ‘He’s a spoilt, corrupt little boy with no guts and no backbone. He’s ditched you once, he’ll ditch you again.’

  Harriet put her head in her hands.

  ‘Don’t bully me,’ she said in real anguish. ‘I’m in such a muddle.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a much gentler voice, putting his hands on her shoulders. ‘But just because he’s William’s father, you mustn’t feel you ought to marry him.’

  For a second, Harriet leant against him, then she stood up.

  ‘I’ve got to talk to Simon, and try to sort out what I feel.’

  For a minute they stared at each other. Then he buttoned her coat up as if she was a little girl.

  ‘Be careful,’ he said.

  Later, she remembered being impressed by the cool way Simon had written Mr and Mrs Villiers in the hotel visitors’ book, as though he’d done it a hundred times before. He’d booked them into a luxury three-room suite.

  He was at his most winning too, remorseful at his previous conduct, gazin
g into her eyes, telling her how beautiful she had become, beguiling her with bitchy stories about film stars he had met, speaking of his future with her and William. All perfect; yet Harriet had the feeling she’d got onto the wrong bus and was desperately hurtling in a direction she didn’t want to go.

  He had changed too. He had all the sheen and glitter of the star now. When he talked to her, she felt he was playing to an audience.

  ‘I want to know everything that’s happened to you since we split up,’ he said.

  But when she started telling him, despite the intent look on his face, she knew his thoughts were miles away, so she changed the subject. ‘It’s wonderful you’ve done so well, Simon.’

  He spread his hands out. ‘Just luck, really. I had mild success with a couple of television plays I did, and I made this film abroad; just a small part, but everyone’s raving about the rushes. And in May I’m going to make a film with Noel, with a really meaty part in it. She’s been terribly kind.’

  Harriet wondered what form Noel’s kindness had taken.

  ‘You haven’t been having an affair with her?’ she asked idly.

  ‘Darling! Be reasonable. She’s old enough to be my mother.’

  ‘She could hardly be your mother when she was ten.’

  ‘I wouldn’t even put that past her! Anyway, I don’t go for these busty, earth mother types — I like my women slim. You’ve got the most gorgeous figure since you lost all that weight.’

  Harriet smiled, but she found her thoughts wandering back to Cory and how he and Noel were getting on at this moment, and then she realized it hadn’t been the shock of seeing Simon that had made her cut her hand, it must have been the sharp, ignored pain that shot through her when she thought Cory’s horse had fallen in the race.

  Simon was still talking about his new film. Concentrate on his beauty, she kept telling herself. He’s far better looking than Cory. The champagne was beginning to make her feel sick.

  He got to his feet and came towards her with that sudden seductive smile that he could use as a weapon or a caress. The brilliant blue-green eyes wandered over her body — hard eyes now, endlessly craving distraction. She felt mesmerized like a small bird before a snake.

  ‘Darling,’ he murmured. ‘It’s stupid to try and communicate with words. Let’s go to bed.’

  And he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, but it wasn’t the same as before — no turning of the entrails, no weakness at the knees, no black turgid drowning tide of passion.

  For a minute she remembered the evening when Cory had kissed her, and she shivered as she re-lived the swooning, helpless ecstasy.

  ‘No,’ she cried wriggling away. ‘I don’t want to now. You must give me more time.’

  Simon’s face darkened. ‘What’s the matter? Gone off me since the old days?’

  ‘I don’t feel well,’ she whispered. ‘Would you mind if I lay down for a few minutes?’

  Now he was all contrition. ‘Darling, why didn’t you tell me?’

  Later she was lying in the dark, her head thrashing from side to side in an agony of indecision, when the telephone rang. She heard Simon lift the receiver. Then there was a pause as he shut the bedroom door.

  In some blind hope that it might be Cory ringing, she picked up the extension by her bed. Then she stiffened as she heard Noel’s voice: ‘How’s it all going, precious?’

  Then Simon’s voice, petulant. ‘All right, but she’s not going to be the pushover you predicted.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got plenty of time. If you can’t have her eating out of your hands in twenty-four hours, you’re not the man you were last night.’

  Simon laughed and growled wolfishly. ‘Good, wasn’t it? But then it’s always good with you. You — er — spur me on to greater endeavour.’

  ‘Well, close your eyes and pretend it’s me.’

  ‘God that it was! I do miss you, darling. You won’t get so hooked on Cory again so that you’ll forget me, will you?’

  ‘Darling,’ Noel’s deep voice was like a sedative. ‘I wouldn’t have angled you that part so I could spend all that time with you this summer, if I hadn’t been a tiny bit smitten, now would I?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘What do you think of your son and heir?’

  ‘Oh, pretty horrific. But then I’m not mad about babies. I thought you said he looked just like me.’

  Noel started to laugh. Harriet put down the receiver and went into the bathroom and was violently sick. Then she stood trembling, leaning against the bathroom door, icy cold and sweating, wondering what the hell to do next.

  She washed her face and went into the sitting room. Simon was lounging across the armchair.

  ‘Hello, beauty,’ he said amiably. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘I’ve been listening in on the extension. I heard all your conversation with Noel.’

  Simon sighed. ‘Oh dear, you shouldn’t have done that. Surely you know by now that eavesdroppers never. .?’

  ‘Simon,’ she interrupted furiously. ‘Stop it! Stop it! Why can’t you be serious for once? How long have you been in love with Noel?’

  ‘I’m not in love with her.’

  ‘Well, how many times have you slept with her?’

  ‘Once, twice. What the hell does it matter? I don’t love her. It’s you I love.’

  ‘You couldn’t love me, the way you were talking to her.’

  ‘Oh, darling, haven’t you heard the expression “sleeping your way to the top”? Well, I want that film part, and if it means chatting up an old prima-donna like Noel that’s OK by me.’

  Harriet stared at him appalled.

  ‘And you were prepared to try and make a go of it with me, while still carrying on an affair with Noel? I don’t understand you, Simon.’

  He looked at her for a minute, mocking, his head on one side, his hands in his pockets.

  ‘Well, then, I can’t help you, can I?’

  Then he started to laugh. ‘Oh come on, darling, see the funny side of it.’

  Harriet shook her head. ‘I don’t think it’s funny. I want to go home.’

  It was a clear night, the stars shone electrically blue, the moon came over the crags and reflected milkily in the river. As he drove, Simon turned to look at Harriet.

  ‘You’re making a mistake going back, darling. Noel fights very dirty — and, however much Cory likes you as a plaything, he’ll kick you out the moment she wants it.’

  When they arrived at the house, Harriet let herself in and met Noel coming out of the drawing room.

  ‘Hullo, darlings,’ she said. ‘Had a lovers’ tiff already?’

  Harriet took a deep breath. ‘I overheard your conversation with Simon on the telephone. I want to see Cory at once.’

  Not a flicker of an eyelid did Noel betray her surprise. ‘My dear, he’s not here. He went out half-an-hour ago. I don’t know when he’ll be back. I think we’d better have a little chat together. Simon, angel, would you excuse us a minute?’

  Shepherding Harriet into the drawing room, she shut the door behind them.

  Harriet sat down on the sofa. Her knees wouldn’t stop trembling. Noel started pouring herself a drink.

  ‘How can I make you understand,’ she began, ‘that I really love Cory? I admit I behaved badly in the past. But now it’s different. I know he’s the only person for me, and I’ll do anything to get him back.’

  ‘Like bringing your latest lover up here to lure me away and offering him the bait of a big film part?’

  Noel banged the whisky bottle down on the metal tray.

  ‘Oh, God!’ she shouted. ‘Grow up! I know you’re nuts about Cory, but he doesn’t give a damn about your stupid passion. I tried to let you out easily by getting Simon up here. He’s ambitious as hell, that boy. He needed a bit of incentive. But if you honestly think I’m intending to have a prolonged affair with him and give him the lead in my next film, you need your head examined!’

  She
spoke as though Simon was a nasty mark on a new dress that the dry cleaners would have no trouble removing.

  Harriet ran a dry tongue over her lips. ‘I know Cory loves you, but he also likes me here looking after the children.’

  ‘Darling,’ Noel’s eyes were huge now and strangely gentle. ‘I did want to let you down easily. I admit I was the tiniest bit jealous of you. The children are wild about you, and so was Kit; and even Cory, who’s notoriously hard to please, regarded you with something close to approval. But I got a letter from him this morning, which really convinced me I’ve got nothing to worry about.’

  She opened her bag and took out a sheet of thick azure writing-paper and handed it to Harriet. The black, almost illegible writing was unmistakable.

  ‘Oh, darling,’ she read. ‘I’m totally destroyed. Ever since you left yesterday, I know that it’s impossible for me to live without you any longer. I give in. Please, please come back, on any terms. I don’t care. The thought that you could feel jealous of that zombie who looks after the children would be ludicrous, if it weren’t tragic that something so trivial could keep us apart. I’ve got no complaints about her work, but she’ll leave tomorrow if it means your coming back any sooner.’

  If you walk into a torture chamber and ask to be tortured, Harriet reflected, you can’t complain of the pain. Very carefully she folded Cory’s letter and put it on the table, and sat still for a minute.

  ‘And you’d like me to go now?’ she said numbly.

  Noel nodded. ‘I think it would be better in every way. There’s no need to say goodbye to the children. It’ll only upset them. They need a mother and, from now on, I shall stay at home and look after them.’

  ‘May I leave a letter for Cory telling him I’m going?’

  ‘Of course you may,’ said Noel kindly.

  Before Harriet left, Noel gave her a cheque for £100. ‘We wouldn’t want you to starve.’

  Harriet wished she were in a position to refuse.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Harriet sat watching the smouldering log fire. She had been home with her parents a week now, and all was forgiven. But the peace and resignation she craved had not come. If it hadn’t been for William, she would never have had the strength to go on living. What’s going to happen to me? she thought in panic. I can’t lump a broken heart around for the rest of my life.