The Summer House Party

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The Summer House Party Page 27

by Caro Fraser


  Sonia turned to Dick Seaman. ‘Tell me, how is your mother? We were such friends when we were debutantes together, you know, and I was often at Kentwell Hall. I haven’t seen her for a few years. I hope she’s well?’

  Dick, a restless, pleasant-faced young man with brilliantined hair, nodded. ‘As indefatigable as ever, Mrs Haddon. She’s the reason I’m in England at the moment. Though I probably shouldn’t admit it, I’m trying to get her to stump up some money.’

  ‘Yes, I understand motor racing is something of a costly business. In any event, do give her my very best regards and tell her that I shall call on her when I’m next in London.’

  ‘I shall.’

  ‘So, do you live permanently in Germany now, Mr Seaman?’ asked Meg.

  ‘Oh, Dick, please. Yes, I have a house at Ambach on Lake Starnberg, just outside Munich. The lake is stunning. I do a lot of water skiing. Bit of a novelty to my German friends, but they’ve become very keen. Paul came to stay there on his last visit. You must come, too, sometime.’

  ‘And how do you find Germany in general?’ asked Sonia. ‘One reads so many reports, it’s hard to make one’s mind up about Herr Hitler. Are you an admirer, or not?’

  Dick glanced around, slightly self-conscious, aware of being the focus of the table’s attention. ‘That’s a bit of a poser. Well – there’s no denying Hitler’s shaken the place up. He stands no nonsense. Doesn’t have time for slackers or Communists. Everybody’s got to work. I think the German people admire the way he’s reorganised everything, galvanised the country, so to speak.’

  ‘And his treatment of the Jews?’ asked Meg. ‘What are your feelings about that?’

  Her tone was gentle, far from aggressive, but Paul cut in with a light laugh and said, ‘My darling, don’t spoil your lovely party with questions of race and politics. About which I’m sure you don’t know as much as you think you do.’ He turned to Dick. ‘You know, I’d like to hear more about Uhlenhaut’s design for the new W154. A five-speed gearbox, that’s very clever.’

  ‘Oh, the V12 engine is a complete triumph. As a matter of fact, I was there when Hitler unveiled the car at the Berlin Motor Show last March. Quite a spectacle. The government backs the team to the very hilt.’

  The talk now turned entirely to racing and the forthcoming Grand Prix, with Dick fielding excited questions from the enthusiasts present. Meg turned and signalled to Gwen to clear the plates. She was trying to maintain a calm, bright demeanour, but her heart was thumping with rage.

  Diana sighed inwardly. Really, her brother could be appallingly condescending where women’s intellects were concerned, if not downright rude. He probably had no idea he sounded exactly like their father. Still, it was Meg’s problem to cope with, not hers. She met Roddy’s glance across the table, held his gaze for a fraction of a second, then turned to Meg.

  ‘Darling, do you mind if I go and explore a little? I haven’t seen enough of your heavenly garden.’

  ‘Of course not.’

  Sonia, bored by the turn the conversation had taken, was about to offer to join her, but Diana was already up and away, crossing the lawn with her elegant stride.

  A few minutes later Roddy slipped away from the table and disappeared in the direction Diana had taken. He found her waiting for him on the fringes of the wood by the paddock, where Grisette and The Commander stood nibbling the grass. He took her hand, and they made their way into the woods along a narrow path dappled with sunlight. When they had gone as far as seemed safe, they stopped against a tree and kissed hungrily. Roddy began to unbutton the bodice of Diana’s dress.

  ‘Not here,’ murmured Diana. ‘Someone might still come along. A keeper or someone.’

  They turned off the path and made their way through shrubs and undergrowth, side-stepping bramble shoots and nettles, until they came to a small glade smothered in ferns. Roddy stepped into the centre and began to trample them down. He put out a hand to Diana and she slipped between the waist-high ferns into the space he had made. Roddy sank to his knees, drawing Diana down with him. They kissed for a long while. Diana glanced around. They were perfectly hidden from view, even in the unlikely event that someone should stray far from the path this deep into the woods.

  ‘I only hope we can find our way back,’ she murmured.

  ‘I don’t care if we never do,’ said Roddy, kissing her neck, easing her dress from her shoulders and kissing her breasts in turn. She closed her eyes and arched her neck in pleasure.

  ‘Let’s take everything off,’ said Roddy, beginning to unbutton his shirt. ‘I want to make love to you in the open air, entirely naked.’

  ‘Dare we?’

  By way of reply he pulled off his shirt, then the rest of his clothes. Still on his knees, he watched as Diana took off her clothes one by one, until she too was naked. They laughed at the same moment, then embraced and kissed, sinking against the coolness of the bruised ferns.

  Some time later, Diana sat astride Roddy’s stomach, the sunlight warm on her back. She reached out a hand and drew her fingers lightly through his hair.

  ‘Such a colour.’

  ‘From my mother’s side. Strawberry blond, so she says.’

  ‘Rather more ginger, if you ask me,’ replied Diana, tossing back her own fair hair.

  ‘If we had children,’ said Roddy, ‘they’d have the most marvellous colouring. My magnificent tawny hair—’

  ‘Ginger.’

  ‘—your green eyes—’

  ‘Your preposterous freckles.’

  ‘Your ridiculous ears.’ He reached up and pulled her hair back from her face.

  She pushed his hands away. ‘My ears are not ridiculous!’

  Roddy leaned back on his elbows, surveying her.

  ‘Seriously. If we had children.’

  She met his level gaze. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m saying’ – he sat up, pulling her towards him, and kissed her – ‘that it would be rather ripping.’ His slight stammer as he said this touched her heart. He kissed her again. ‘Don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes, I do. But you do realise it would mean—’

  ‘It would mean getting married, and all that nonsense, I know. But if that’s what it takes…’

  Diana, for once in her life, was at an utter loss. She wanted nothing more in the world than to marry Roddy. She loved him with a desperation that frightened her, but until now she had refused to address the problems that marriage to him would entail, not least the fact that Roddy had scarcely two ha’pennies to rub together. Not much of a problem while he was a single, adventurous young man with an indulgent mother happy to fund his bachelor lifestyle. But marriage was quite another thing.

  ‘But we fight half the time. What if we find we don’t get on at all, being married?’

  ‘We fight because we can’t be together enough, and that’s all the fault of your ridiculous brother. It puts me in a bad temper. If we were married, we could do this any time we like, instead of constantly sneaking away, trying to make sure he doesn’t find out.’

  ‘But that’s the point. We’ve been trying to make sure he doesn’t find out so that you won’t lose your place in the racing team. You know how he feels about us.’ She paused. ‘And you know why, too – don’t you?’

  Roddy shrugged. ‘He’s fond of me.’

  ‘More than that.’

  ‘Even if he sacked me, there are other teams to drive for.’

  ‘But do you… I mean, do you think you feel…?’ She broke off, not quite sure how to finish the question.

  ‘Do I love you? Is that what you mean? You are the most maddening girl alive, but to my astonishment, and entirely against my better judgement, I find I love you. Truly.’ He put a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head up so that she had to look at him. ‘So shall we?’

  Diana regarded him doubtfully. She ran light fingers through his mane of red hair. ‘What would we live on? You know I’m not a girl who can starve in a garret
for love, don’t you?’

  ‘We would manage somehow.’

  She did a swift calculation. Paul had always been fiercely conscious of the inequity brought about by their father leaving the entire estate to him, and he had never been anything but generous with her when she needed money. It had been understood, too, that when she married he would settle a decent sum on her. But given how he felt about Roddy, how jealously he guarded his friendship with him, could she take that for granted? He might not recognise his infatuation for what it was, but the events of the shooting weekend suggested that he would be far from happy if she and Roddy became engaged.

  ‘You still haven’t given me an answer,’ persisted Roddy. ‘And you still haven’t said if you love me or not.’

  ‘You know I do. You’re an ass if you don’t. But…’ she touched his neck, then drew her finger down across his chest and kissed him, ‘are you sure it isn’t all about – well, just this?’

  ‘No, I don’t think it’s simply about – just this.’ He kissed her back, slipping his fingers between her legs. ‘But it’s undoubtedly a consideration, you have to admit.’

  ‘Yes,’ she gasped, closing her eyes. Thoughts of money completely fled her mind.

  ‘An impartial onlooker might say I’m taking advantage of the situation, but I’m going to assume that “yes” means you’ll marry me.’ He kissed her again. ‘Which makes me very happy.’

  Fifteen minutes later, as they made their way back through the woods to the path, Diana remarked, ‘We’ve been gone ages. I wonder if anyone noticed.’

  ‘I doubt it. And even if they did, who cares? We’re a respectably engaged couple now.’

  She turned and gave him a radiant smile. ‘How sick-makingly conventional.’

  ‘I know. Who would have thought?’ After a moment he added, ‘Why don’t we tell people today? I mean, it’s rather a convenient moment, so many of our friends together in one place.’

  Diana hesitated. Her instinct was to speak to Paul first and make sure of the money, but on second thoughts, perhaps it would be better to present him with a fait accompli, and then talk him round, if needs be. He might be absurdly jealous of her relationship with Roddy, but surely he wouldn’t cut her off without a bean just because of it.

  She nodded. ‘Let’s.’

  They crossed the lawn, hand in hand. Luncheon had been over for an hour, but people still sat in groups at tables, sipping coffee. The children, led by Frank, were cartwheeling competitively at the far end of the garden. Diana and Roddy sat down next to Meg, who had absented herself from the general conversation and was staring into the distance.

  ‘Oh, hello,’ she said, as they sat down. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’ She caught Diana’s expression. ‘What’s that mysterious smile for?’

  Diana told her, and Meg gave a gasp of delight. ‘Oh, but how marvellous!’ She glanced around the garden. ‘Do you want people to know, or are you going to wait? Because if you do…’

  ‘No time like the present,’ said Roddy firmly. He lifted up a coffee spoon, about to rap a glass.

  ‘Wait,’ said Meg, ‘Paul’s taken a few people off to the workshop – oh, look, here he comes now.’ Paul was coming round the house from the workshop with Guy and two others in tow.

  Roddy tapped the spoon against the wine glass, and clear, light chimes rang through the air. Conversation died away. Those further off in the garden gradually stopped talking and began to make their way towards the table. When all were gathered, an expectant hush fell, broken only by the shouts and laughter of the children. Roddy rose to his feet. Paul stood, uneasy and puzzled, at the edge of the gathering.

  ‘First of all, I’m sure you would all like to join me in thanking Paul and Meg for hosting such a splendid party today’ – there came a rippling murmur of appreciation – ‘and secondly’ – Roddy looked down at Diana, and they exchanged smiles – ‘I hope you’ll also join in congratulating me on the fact that I have…’ he hesitated, stammering over his words, ‘asked Diana to be my wife and, I am thrilled to say, she has consented.’ This produced cries of delight, and several of the guests clapped. People came forward to add their personal congratulations. Meg stood by, hands folded beneath her chin, smiling in delight. Her eyes sought out Paul, and she saw him standing a little way off, looking on, his expression inscrutable. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t seem to share the general pleasure. She couldn’t understand why he was so absurdly proprietorial where Roddy was concerned. Oh, well, he would just have to get used to the fact that Diana had a greater claim on his affections now.

  *

  Later, when the guests had gone, Meg was sitting in the drawing room with Diana, who was staying over.

  ‘Gosh, I’m absolutely bushed,’ said Meg, yawning.

  ‘I’m not surprised, in your condition.’ Diana stretched her arms above her head and closed her eyes briefly. ‘What a perfectly lovely, lovely day.’

  Meg smiled across at her. ‘Happy?’

  ‘Immensely. I couldn’t be happier. I just wish Paul was.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll come round, I know he will.’

  ‘The thing is,’ Diana dropped her hands into her lap, ‘I can’t afford for him to disapprove. Roddy doesn’t exactly have a lot of money, and I’m entirely dependent on Paul, as you know. He always said he would settle a decent sum on me when I got married, but what if he decides not to?’

  ‘Why would he do that?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. He resents what I have with Roddy. His male friendships have always been a bit of a thing with him. Paul’s not always as straightforward as one might imagine.’

  ‘I’m absolutely sure he’s not going to leave you high and dry. I’ll have a word with him, if you like.’

  ‘Would you? It might set my mind at rest. In theory I’d be happy to marry Roddy and live on bread and margarine–’

  ‘But in fact, you’d rather not,’ laughed Meg.

  ‘Well, quite.’

  ‘Rest assured, I’ll make sure you don’t.’ Meg rose, running a hand over the swell of her stomach. ‘I’m going to get to bed. But first, I need to find my book. I think I left it in the summerhouse.’

  Bidding Diana goodnight, Meg went out and across the garden in the direction of the summerhouse, and was surprised to find Paul in there, smoking his pipe.

  ‘I was looking for my book,’ she said. The two had scarcely spoken since the party, and the smell of his pipe smoke filling the summerhouse irritated her. She remembered his cutting put-down earlier, and felt a smart of rekindled anger.

  Paul glanced around, saw her book, and handed it wordlessly to her.

  ‘You know,’ she said, fingering the book, ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for your beastly behaviour towards me.’

  Paul regarded her emptily, almost without interest. ‘My behaviour?’

  ‘When I was talking to your friend Dick today, asking him about the situation with the Jews in Germany. You were unspeakably rude.’

  Paul tapped the cinders from his pipe into a nearby ashtray and laid his pipe on the table. ‘It was hardly the time or the place to raise the subject. In fact, in the circumstances, I thought you were the one who was ill-mannered. At least I spared you embarrassment.’

  ‘You did nothing of the kind. You belittled me, as you always do.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd. I simply didn’t wish to see you attempt to discuss a subject you know nothing about.’

  She felt anger tightening her heart. ‘And as for the way you looked when Roddy and Diana announced their engagement – that was too horrid for words. Couldn’t you at least have seemed pleased?’

  Paul got to his feet. ‘Shut up! I don’t want to discuss anything with you! Not that, or what I said at lunch, or anything else! Stop meddling in things you don’t understand!’

  He strode out of the summerhouse and across the garden in the direction of the workshop. Meg stared after him. She sat down, working back over the conversation, willing her righteous indignation to die
away. He could be absolutely insufferable, but whatever the rights and wrongs, she couldn’t bear animosity between them. She had come to realise how fragile the edifice of kindness and affection which she had built to sustain her marriage was, and any damage needed to be repaired swiftly. Even if she were not the one in the wrong, she had to make amends, to ensure they didn’t go to bed feeling hateful and angry at one another. Paul’s pipe lay on the table. She picked it up, smoothing its still-warm bowl with her thumb. Holding it, she rose and went out of the summerhouse to the workshop. She knocked lightly on the door, but when there was no reply, she went in.

  Paul was poring over some plans on the bench. Meg went over and put a hand on his arm, and laid his pipe on the bench.

  ‘Let’s not argue. I’m probably over-tired. I’m sorry I got cross with you.’

  He sighed and looked up. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

  Meg waited for a moment, then said, ‘I don’t know why you’re not happy about Diana and Roddy.’ This was a lie; she was all too aware how passionately fond Paul was of Roddy. She believed his feelings fell far short of the kind of thing Dan had once suggested, but she guessed his reaction to their engagement had probably been prompted by male jealousy of some kind. ‘Is it because he doesn’t have money?’ The question offered Paul an excuse and at the same time gave her a chance to plead Diana’s cause.

  Paul was silent for a moment, then said, ‘I suppose it is.’

  ‘Well, for goodness’ sake – the poor man can’t help it if he’s hard up. But can’t you help them? You’ve always said Diana was hard done by when your father died. Now’s your chance to be generous and put it right.’ She didn’t wait for his response. Instead she leaned forward and kissed his cheek lightly. ‘I’m going to bed. Don’t stay out here too long.’

  4

  DAN WASTED NO time in petitioning Mr Hitchcock about being sent to Europe, and was in his office first thing on Monday morning. As Dan laid out his proposal, Mr Hitchcock sat frowning and doodling on his blotter.

 

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