Beloved Rake

by Anne Hampson

  ‘Jenny,’ began Serra a little fearfully as they neared the house, ‘Dirk will be angry with me for telling you all about it. Perhaps you’d better not talk to him after all.’ She was reluctant to say this, for she did feel that Jenny could influence her brother.

  ‘No doubt about his anger,’ responded Jenny in a grim voice. ‘Nevertheless, I do intend talking to him. Come on, you’ve nothing to fear while I’m here.’

  Dirk was upstairs; Jenny called and he came to the balustrade and looked down.

  ‘What the devil do you want at this time of the morning?’ he demanded. ‘Go home; I’ve enough on my plate!’

  ‘On your plate?’ mildly. ‘I want to talk to you, Dirk—and at once!’

  Serra, standing at the bottom of the wide staircase beside Jenny, could only stare unbelievingly as Dirk, with a little muttered oath, came down to his sister.

  ‘So Serra’s been talking to you, has she?’ Dirk glared at his wife before swinging on his heel and leading the way into the small apartment which Serra had named the cosy room. ‘If you’d done as I asked,’ he went on the moment they were inside and the door had closed behind Serra, ‘this would never have happened.’

  Jenny tossed her hat on to the couch and looked up at him.

  ‘Why should I concern myself with her? She’s your responsibility.’

  Blushing at this plain speaking, and at the way Jenny referred to Serra as her and she, Serra averted her head, feeling inferior and wishing she could leave these two to argue it out on their own.

  ‘Responsibility?’ Dirk’s voice was clipped and curt. ‘There was to be no question of responsibility. Serra wanted her freedom; she wanted to come to England and I brought her. As far as I’m concerned the matter ends there.’

  A swift intake of her breath from Jenny. Serra broke in, trying to be helpful.

  ‘What Dirk says is quite right, Jenny. He doesn’t owe me any attention because it’s not really a marriage. It’s just as if he brought me to England and—well, and left me.’

  Jenny stared at her.

  ‘Rubbish,’ she snapped. ‘Dirk is a husband, and he must accept the responsibilities of a husband.’

  Dirk’s eyes glinted dangerously, but his sister was not in the least disturbed by this. Meanwhile, Serra was looking from one to the other as an idea gradually began to form in her mind. Jenny had left her to her own devices, despite the fact of both her mother and brother asking her to help Serra fit into her new environment. Dirk had once said that he did not know why Jenny and he were close because Jenny disapproved of his way of life. Could it be that Jenny had acted in a way designed to change Dirk’s way of life? Could it be that Jenny had deliberately kept away so that her brother would have no option than to shoulder the responsibility of a wife? If this were so it fully explained Jenny’s refusal to help her sister-in-law; it also revealed her to be a much more attractive person than that of the indifferent and rather haughty girl Serra had branded her. A sudden warmth encompassed Serra and she smiled at Jenny, but Jenny was looking at Dirk, her censorious gaze unflinchingly meeting the gleam of anger in his eyes.

  ‘The situation does not concern you,’ he was saying abruptly. ‘As Serra says, I don’t owe her any attention—she knew this and accepted it,’ he added as Jenny would have interrupted. ‘So you will oblige me by keeping out of it.’ Dirk glanced at his wife. ‘Did you have to chatter to Jenny? I should have thought you’d want the matter to be kept quiet.’

  Serra hung her head. Jenny looked at her for a long moment before returning her attention to her brother.

  ‘Have you no heart, Dirk? Serra’s a stranger in this country. She’s been left on her own for over two months—’

  ‘I asked you to take her around,’ he interrupted shortly. ‘It’s a woman she needs, not me.’

  ‘Would you like to have your husband’s company, Serra?’ came the unexpected inquiry from Jenny, and Serra’s head came up. She gave a little trembling sigh as she met Dirk’s gaze.

  ‘I would, yes,’ she quivered, but added, ‘I know I can’t have it, though, because of our bargain.’

  Dirk was standing by the window, facing the two girls. He was still angry, but Serra gained the impression that he would never dream of quarrelling with Jenny. His gaze moved as Serra spoke and he frowned. But there was an almost imperceptible softening of his face and a trembling smile touched Serra’s lips. Dirk sighed and shook his head.

  ‘Have you told Jenny everything?’ he asked at length. ‘Have you told her I threatened to send you home?’

  ‘Yes—’

  ‘Home,’ cut in Jenny shortly. ‘This is Serra’s home.’

  ‘All right, Jenny, for heaven’s sake let’s forget the matter. I had no intention of sending her back to Greece anyway—naturally I hadn’t.’

  Both Serra and Jenny looked swiftly at him.

  ‘Dirk, how could you frighten me like that?’ Serra’s voice broke even though her heart leapt at his words. ‘I’ve been almost out of my mind wondering what Father would say.’

  He seemed staggered by her admission, and now his face did soften, considerably.

  ‘You surely didn’t take me seriously?’

  ‘Of course she did! Serra’s honest herself and she takes it for granted everyone else is the same. In future don’t say things you don’t mean. Even I thought you meant it.’

  Serra was so happy at Dirk’s admission that she spoke without thinking, asking if he hadn’t meant what he said about Clarice, too.

  ‘Clarice?’ Jenny looked swiftly at her brother. ‘Do you know Clarice, Serra?’

  ‘I’ve heard of her,’ returned Serra imperturbably. ‘Last night Dirk said he wished he’d married her...’ She allowed her voice to trail away into the silence as Dirk’s eyes glinted.

  ‘If you’d married her,’ said his sister with significant emphasis, ‘you wouldn’t have got away with leaving her all on her own.’

  ‘That’s the reason I didn’t marry her,’ responded Dirk, amused all at once.

  ‘So you didn’t mean it?’ Serra lifted her face to his. Again he sighed and shook his head.

  ‘You should have known I didn’t mean it.’

  She spread her hands.

  ‘Don’t you mean anything you say?’ she couldn’t help asking, her voice indignant and accusing because of the misery she had been through, a misery that had kept her awake throughout the night.

  ‘I meant it when I threatened to box your ears. If I have one more experience of your stupidity then, believe me, Serra, you’ll feel sorry for yourself.’

  ‘Take no notice of him,’ advised Jenny calmly, noting the sudden rush of colour that had fused Serra’s cheeks. ‘His bark’s always been worse than his bite.’ She sat down on the arm of the settee and became thoughtful for a space. ‘I think you’ll agree with me, Dirk,’ she began reasonably, ‘that Serra must be— guided a little?’ And when he inclined his head in agreement, ‘I’m willing to do my share ... but only if you’re willing to do yours.’ She smiled sweetly at him. ‘We take it in turns, so to speak.’

  ‘But—no, Jenny. The arrangement was for Dirk to go his own way. I promised that he wouldn’t even know he was married.’

  Not unnaturally this led to laughter; it also swept away the remnants of Dirk’s ill-humour.

  ‘I certainly know I’m married,’ he retorted, speaking to Jenny but looking at his wife, who swallowed and blurted out without thinking,

  ‘I’m sorry you had to come away from your girlfriend, but Preston needn’t have rung you. Charles would have known what to do.’ Her eyes strayed to Jenny, who was frowning heavily.

  ‘So you were with a girl-friend?’

  ‘Of course.’ A challenge in his tone, and a sudden glint of danger in his eyes. His sister could go further than most people, Serra concluded, but knew that even Jenny could only go to certain lengths.

  ‘I can’t for the life of me think what you get out of all these girls,’ said Jenny, still frowning at her bro
ther.

  He raised his brows, regarding her with some amusement.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect you to, Jenny,’ he returned suavely.

  ‘You take after Father!’

  ‘So Mother says. She had a dreadful time with him.’

  Jenny examined his face—then smiled to herself.

  ‘You won’t go as far as he did,’ she asserted, and her brother promptly said, with a laugh,

  ‘The wish is father to the thought, I take it?’

  She looked away.

  ‘I’m one of those foolish sisters who idolizes her brother. And as I’m an idealist also I live in continual hope that one day you’ll become the brother I really want.’

  The confession led to a profound silence, and the singing of birds outside was the only sound for a few moments before Dirk said, in strangely emotional tones,

  ‘I feel, my dear, that we shall both be quite old before that day arrives.’

  Jenny’s eyes moved to Serra, and remained on her face for a while before examining her lovely figure, from the long arched neck to the alluring curves and the incredibly small waist.

  ‘We shall see, Dirk,’ she murmured cryptically. ‘I have an idea that we won’t be all that old—in fact, I have a feeling you’ll mend your ways quite soon.’ And, as Dirk made no comment, ‘This question of Serra— are you willing to take it in turns?’

  ‘I’ve no time.’

  ‘Then neither have I.’

  A faltering step took Serra closer to Jenny. She looked at her entreatingly.

  ‘Please ... I’ll be quite satisfied with your helping me. It wasn’t in our bargain that Dirk would take me around.’

  Avoiding her eyes, Jenny said,

  ‘I’m sorry, but if Dirk isn’t willing to give you any of his time then I’m not, either.’

  Instinctively Serra knew what was in her sister-in-law’s mind. She did want her brother to accept some responsibility, and that was because Jenny concluded it would, for part of the time at least, keep her brother out of mischief.

  Dirk was glaring at his sister.

  ‘Is that an ultimatum?’ he snapped.

  ‘Certainly it is.’

  He smiled suddenly, and his expression changed.

  ‘You’ll never reform me, Jen.’

  So he too knew what Jenny was about. Serra was not surprised, for Jenny had not approached the matter with any element of diplomacy.

  ‘What is your decision?’ she inquired, regarding Dirk challengingly.

  A sharp intake of his breath and then,

  ‘I must have been out of my mind to marry her! To think I concluded that she was meek and docile and wouldn’t give me the least trouble!’

  ‘Then all I can say is you didn’t look very far ahead,’ rejoined his sister practically. ‘It should have occurred to you at once that there would be difficulties. No girl wants to spend her life alone in a rambling house like this, reading all day, or taking the odd stroll in the garden.’ She turned to Serra. ‘Didn’t you give the matter a thought, either?’

  Serra shook her head.

  ‘I was too eager to be free, to get to England. I somehow imagined I’d have people around me, and make friends. Then I’d be invited to parties, and attend balls—and even have a nice boy-friend,’ she added with her incurable honesty. Dirk frowned at this, which was strange, she thought, because he did not care in the least what she did.

  ‘You don’t have boy-friends when you’re married,’ said Jenny, also frowning darkly.

  ‘You’ll have discovered that Jen’s a prude,’ Dirk smiled, slanting a glance at his wife.

  ‘She’s right—in the ordinary way,’ Serra was driven to defend her sister-in-law. ‘It’s just that our marriage isn’t normal,’ she supplemented unnecessarily.

  ‘Well, normal or not, you’re both married, and you’ll have to change your way of life, Dirk. Either you forfeit some of this barren round of gaiety or else you must be prepared for trouble.’ She paused a moment as if to give strength to her next words. ‘Have you thought what a fool you’re going to look if Serra begins having boy-friends?’

  ‘She’s not having boy-friends,’ he declared with emphasis. ‘She can enjoy herself in other ways.’

  ‘She has an awful long way to go,’ murmured Jenny in significant tones. ‘At eighteen one wants the company of the opposite sex.’

  It struck Serra that Jenny was not being very consistent, but of course she was aiming at bringing off her plan.

  Dirk drew an exasperated breath.

  ‘Charles might take her around a bit,’ he suggested at last, but Jenny was shaking her head.

  ‘No go, Dirk. You or else...’

  A long silence. Serra wanted to break in and say obligingly that it did not matter but she knew that Jenny would be angry if she did, so she prudently held her tongue.

  ‘Very well,’ Dirk agreed at last, but with an audible gritting of his teeth. ‘I’ll give up a couple of days a week.’

  ‘Three,’ murmured Jenny, idly fingering the hat that lay on the couch. ‘Three for you and four for me.’ Her long lashes fluttered as she cocked him a glance, and her mouth was curved in a faint smile.

  ‘Three!’ He shook his head. ‘That’s half my life. Not likely!’

  Jenny shrugged and, rising, picked up her hat.

  ‘There doesn’t seem any use prolonging this fruitless argument.’ She smiled at Serra. ‘Try not to get into too much mischief,’ she said, and turned to the door.

  ‘Jenny...’ Tears started to Serra’s eyes. ‘Please—I don’t want to trouble Dirk. Please take me around.’

  Jenny’s eyes were on her brother’s face. She lowered her head after a moment because of the triumph in her eyes. Dirk snapped,

  ‘Three days, then! Although I don’t know why she couldn’t entertain herself for at least one day a week!’

  ‘Of course I co—’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ interrupted Jenny with a darkling glance at her sister-in-law, as she came back into the room. ‘All that remains is for us to sort out the arrangements. I can’t be with Serra on Tuesdays because I go to Felicity’s for the day—it’s a long-standing date. But as for the rest of the week—’ She shrugged obligingly. ‘Take your pick, Dirk.’

  ‘Thank you!’ again through gritted teeth. Serra became utterly miserable, feeling that Dirk’s company, given so grudgingly, was going to be far from enjoyable. ‘I want to have my week-ends free.’

  And so it was arranged that Dirk should not go out on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Jenny smiled with satisfaction as she silently dwelt on her triumph. Serra wondered how long the arrangement would last, for she felt sure Dirk would tire of her company very soon.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THEY had driven down through Bloxworth Heath, a delightful woodland region with the chalk hills rising to the north. Dirk was driving the Jaguar, with Serra sitting beside him. It had been a silent journey for the most part, but now and then Serra would speak and Dirk would reply, even though in short and rather bored accents. It was their first outing together since the ‘arrangement’ was made, for on Monday and Tuesday Dirk had stayed around the house, keeping Serra company, but, she surmised, bent on making her so bored she would not desire his company again. Today, however, the sun was shining and after lunch Dirk himself had suggested a run out in the car. Quietly Serra had agreed, wishing to tell him that he need not bother unless he himself wanted to go out, but at the same time fearing that Jenny would not be pleased if Dirk should succeed in freeing himself of his part of the obligation.

  ‘The scenery’s beautiful,’ she murmured as they approached the coast. ‘I like the green very much.’

  ‘We’ll go to Portland Island,’ he said, without much interest. ‘Then we’ll make for Lulworth Cove.’

  Portland Island was an austere region of solid limestone where ancient marine life lay fossilized in its quarried walls. Dirk parked the car and he and Serra walked on to the raised beach that formed the back
of the shore. Giant blocks of stone had been wrenched away from the main mass and these lay in wild and formidable confusion all about the shore, or piled up by the cliffs, where other giant blocks had been dislodged by the powerful waves that lashed the coast. Portland Bill jutted out into the sea, with the freakish Pulpit Rock forming a dramatic obelisk which was a reminder of early cubist carvings. A coloured lighthouse towered above, outlined sharply against the blue of a Dorset sky. The backing cliffs were rugged and massive with yawning chasms and great wide platforms. Dirk and Serra climbed from one of the platforms to a higher vantage point from where a magnificent view could be had of several features of the coast.

  ‘That’s the Chesil Beach,’ Dirk told her, indicating the great arc to their left. ‘And that is Weymouth.’

  ‘Can you swim there?’ she wanted to know.

  ‘Sure—but I don’t suppose you would want to, not after the warm waters of Greece.’

  ‘Is it very cold?’

  ‘I think you would find it so.’

  ‘I’d like to try—not today, of course, but some time.’

  ‘We will, then,’ he promised, and she gave him a swift smile.

  ‘Dirk...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You are happy? I mean, I should feel awful if I thought you were miserable, taking me out like this.’ They were high above the swelling sea, just the two of them, standing against the massive cliffs. He looked down at her and smiled.

  ‘I’m not miserable, Serra, far from it—strangely.’ He caught his lip on uttering the last word and Serra had the impression that he regretted the inclusion of it.

  ‘I think I’m a great trouble to you, all the same,’ she said, bringing her gaze from the sea to glance up at him.

  He laughed and unexpectedly ruffled her hair.

  ‘Self-pity? Or is it remorse?’

  She thought for a moment.

  ‘A little of both,’ she owned, responding to his laugh.

  From Portland Island they drove to Lulworth Cove, having first stopped at the natural arch of Durdle Door, cut into the Purbeck limestone. The scenery at Lulworth was the most spectacular in Dorset and Serra gasped now and then as once again they stood together, this time on a grassy rise, looking at one of the most beautiful examples of marine erosion. The surrounding arms of the cove had resisted the pounding of the waves while the softer material inside the cove had been worn away.