‘I’m going to throw a party. Gertie and I have been making out lists.’
Chapter Eleven
Janet came out of Adriana Ford’s room and went along to the nursery. She was thinking what an extraordinary person Adriana was, and that she couldn’t possibly be as old as Star had said. There was something alive about her, something that would always take the middle of the stage, whether she held it with that tragic look, with gay talk about her new clothes and the parties she meant to give, or with the searching questions which came crashing in among your own most private affairs. What did she mean, asking those questions about Ninian, and why did she need to ask them of a stranger? He was her own relation, and had known him all his life. What could Janet tell her that she did not know already? Janet was wondering why she had answered her at all. And then the door opened behind her and Ninian was following her into the room. He said, ‘Well?’ with a question in his voice, and she said, ‘Good-night.’
He laughed.
‘Oh, I’m not going away – far from it! We are going to have a nursery crack.’
‘We are not!’
‘Darling, we are. I wouldn’t dream of locking the door and taking away the key. I shall use only moral suasion.’
‘Ringan, go to bed!’
The old Border form of his name came without her meaning to use it. It had been common coin when they were children, but even then the elders had frowned upon it as smacking too much of the vulgar. It was an odd variant for Ninian, and she had always wondered about it, but it came easily to her tongue.
His look softened.
‘It’s a long time since you called me that, my jo Janet.’
‘I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why I did.’
‘You’re a cold, hard lass, but you slip into being human just once in a way. And now stop talking about yourself and tell me what you think of Adriana.’
Janet’s colour rose.
‘I was not talking about myself!’
‘All right, darling, have it your own way. But I want to talk about Adriana. What did you think of her?’
Janet frowned.
‘She is not like anyone else.’
‘Fortunately! Imagine a houseful of Adrianas! Spontaneous combustion wouldn’t be in it! You know, that is the trouble with Meriel – she is the imitation, the bad copy, the local dressmaker’s version of a Paris model. She gets the mannerisms here and there, but she doesn’t begin to have Adriana’s courage and drive, to say nothing of her talent. Amazing person! What did she say to you when she sent me out of the room?’
‘That’s asking.’
‘Don’t I get an answer?’
She shook her head. He said,
‘Did she?’
She shook her head again.
‘Does that mean she didn’t, or that you won’t tell?’
‘You can please yourself.’
He laughed.
‘You are a very aggravating woman. What would you do if I was to shake you – call for help?’
‘I might.’
‘Then I can tell you who would come – Meriel. She is the only one near enough. And what fun that would be – for her! A part to play after her own heart! Brutal seducer checked! An angel to the rescue! Foolish inexperienced damsel rebuked and warned!’
‘Ringan, go to bed!’
She had meant her voice to be, not angry, but quietly firm.
She could not help being aware that it held a trace of indulgence.
He leaned against the mantelpiece and looked at her with smiling eyes.
‘How are you going to get me to go? Do you think you could push me?’
‘I shouldn’t dream of trying.’
He nodded.
‘Just as well. It’s the world to a winkle that I’d kiss you. So what? If you’re thinking of an appeal to my better feelings, you’ve known for a long time that I haven’t got any.’
She made no answer. He was trying to play on her, and she wouldn’t have it.
He stretched out a hand and just touched her on the wrist.
‘I haven’t, have I? Have I?’
‘I suppose you have your share.’
‘But such a small one? It wants a lot of encouragement. You might be quite surprised if you would take it on.’
Janet’s colour burned.
‘You might try Anne Forester.’
He shook his head.
‘She wouldn’t be any good at it.’ Then suddenly, and in a different voice, ‘Janet, you know she wasn’t anything!’
‘I know nothing of the kind.’
‘Then working for Hugo has had a most disintegrating effect upon your brain. You used to be quite intelligent, and if you had used one grain of common sense you would have known that Anne was only a play.’
Janet was standing up very straight, If she could have added three inches to her height it would have been a great support. She did her best as she said,
‘That would be so nice for Anne!’
‘Oh, she was playing too. There wasn’t anything serious in it at all, on either side. It was just one of those here-today-and-gone-tomorrow kind of things.’
‘Like the affair you had with Anne Newton – and Anne Harding?’
He burst out laughing.
‘Of course! And anyhow they were all Annes. There’s never been another Janet! You know, darling, what is wrong with you is that serious disposition – too many forebears living in manses and preaching long Scottish sermons. A man can kiss a girl without wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. I tell you, none of the Annes meant a thing, and they were not a bit more in earnest than I was – I swear they weren’t. That sort of thing just doesn’t mean anything at all.’
Janet’s smile flashed out, the dimple appeared.
‘That is what Hugo said.’
‘He did, did he?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘And suited the action to the word no doubt. And I suppose you let him kiss you!’
‘Why not?’
He took her by the shoulders.
‘You know very well why not. Janet – did he? Did you let him?’
She stepped back, but not in time. Meriel stood in the doorway with the air of a tragedy queen. She had on the dress she had worn at dinner, and a shawl of crimson silk with a fringe that dripped to the floor. It was falling off one shoulder. She caught at it and said in a dramatic voice,
‘I am interrupting you! I suppose you expect me to apologize?’
Ninian turned round in a leisurely manner and said,
‘Why?’ The question was accompanied by rather a bleak stare.
‘I was afraid I had startled you.’
‘But how could it have been anything but a pleasant surprise? Won’t you come in and make yourself at home? I am sure Nanny always has a welcome for you. Janet wouldn’t wish to lag behind – would you, darling?’
Janet had been standing just where she was, the colour still in her cheeks but her whole look grave and composed. Appealed to directly, she said,
‘Yes, do come in. I was telling Ninian that it’s time for bed. But it isn’t really so late. Adriana was getting tired, so we came away.’
Meriel came into the room holding the red shawl about her.
‘I suppose she asked you to call her Adriana?’
‘Oh, yes.’
Ninian said abruptly, ‘Well, I’m off. Don’t run through all the confidences tonight, or you will have none left for tomorrow’ He paused on the threshold, and from behind Meriel’s back he made a schoolboy grimace and blew a kiss.
Janet saw the door close behind him with some relief. Meriel alone she could cope with, but Ninian goaded by Meriel was capable of practically anything, and there had been the light of battle in his eye. She turned to the unwelcome guest.
‘I’m afraid it’s rather cold in here.’
Meriel said deeply, ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She laid her arm along the mantelpiece and assumed a graceful droop. ‘He can’t bear to be in the
room with me – you must have noticed it.’
‘It is a pity to fancy things.’
‘Oh, but it’s not fancy. It is only too painfully evident. You can’t have helped noticing it. So I felt – I felt I had better explain.’
‘There isn’t any need.’
Meriel drew a long sighing breath.
‘Oh, no, it is obvious, as I said. And I would rather you knew. It is difficult with a stranger to pick one’s way among other people’s affairs without either hurting or being hurt. It will be easier for us all if you know just how we stand. Ninian has been here a good deal, you know, and – well, I expect you can guess what happened. He began to care for me more than I wanted him to.’ She fixed dark soulful eyes on Janet’s face. ‘I tried to stop him – I did indeed. You mustn’t blame me – at least not more than you can help. I had my own troubles. Geoffrey and I – no, I won’t say any more about that. Edna doesn’t understand him, doesn’t make him happy, but we would never do anything to hurt her. I do want you to know that.’
Janet had very little opinion of those who sentimentalize over other people’s husbands and wives. Whilst refraining from expressing this feeling, she supposed it to be fairly evident, and had a passing hope that it might have a damping effect upon any further confidences. But Meriel merely sighed again.
‘It is all terribly sad, and there is nothing that anyone can do. Because, you see, there is no money. I do feel – don’t you – that if people are not happy together, it is better for them to part. Of course divorce is terribly sordid, and it costs more money than any of us have got, so what is the use of thinking about it? I have nothing, literally nothing, except my allowance from Adriana, and Geoffrey has only the merest pittance outside of what she gives him – and that is supposed to be for Edna too. You wouldn’t think she would have the heart to cut it off if we went away together, but you never can tell. She might, you know, and one couldn’t possibly risk it. It’s a dreadful situation! And sometimes I have wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to put an end to it by letting Ninian take me away.’
Janet said, ‘Does he want to?’
The dark eyes looked first up, and then down with the lashes shading them. The voice thrilled with reproach.
‘Need you ask! But can one – ought one – to turn away from one’s fullest emotional development? Ninian is terribly in love with me, but I could only give him a second-best. And there is still the question of money. I believe his last book did better, but writing is such an uncertain business. If only – only Adriana would let us all know where we stand! But she is so self-centred, she never thinks about it. She may be going to divide everything between the four of us – Geoffrey, and Star, and Ninian, and me. Or if she thinks Star is making enough on her own she may leave her out – or Ninian if his books really begin to sell. You can see how dreadful it is not to know.’
Janet began to feel as if she had reached saturation point. She said bluntly,
‘I think you should put the whole thing out of your head and get yourself a job. There was an old woman up at Darnach who used to say, “Dead men’s shoes are awfu’ fidgety wear”. For all you know, Adriana may have put everything into an annuity.’
‘Oh, no, she wouldn’t do that – she wouldn’t!’
‘You don’t know what people will do until they’ve done it. She might divide the money, or leave it to just one of you. Or she might leave it all to a theatrical charity.’
Meriel looked genuinely horrified.
‘Oh, no – she would never do that!’
‘How do you know?’
Meriel’s face changed. One moment it had been registering everything it could, the next it had closed down and was as blank as a whitewashed wall. She said,
‘Of course nobody knows, so what is the good of talking about it? I must go. It’s rather a mockery to say good-night – but perhaps you sleep-’
‘Oh, yes.’
Meriel said, ‘How fortunate you are!’ She gathered up her crimson shawl and trailed out of the room.
Chapter Twelve
Adriana sent out invitations right and left. There were to be people to lunch, and people to dine. There was to be a cocktail party – ‘Frightful, but everyone accepts and it gets things going. Meriel, you can ring up all the people on that list. And for the Lord’s sake don’t use the sort of voice which will make them think they’re being invited to my funeral! It will be quite a shock to some of them to realize that I’m not dead and buried, so you had better try and put some pep into it, or half of them will be turning up in black. Mabel Preston will be here. She is due for her autumn visit, and she looks forward to it as much as she does to anything, so I can’t put her off, and she will be quite enough of a death’s head at the feast without tragedy airs from anyone else.’
Ninian looked up from the envelopes he was addressing at top speed in a hand which resembled cuneiform.
‘Darling, not that old Mabel! You can’t!’
Adriana nodded.
‘Of course I can! She’ll love every minute, though she would die before she admitted it. So I couldn’t possibly put her off.’
Meriel said in a fretful voice,
‘I can’t think why you bother with her. It isn’t even as if she was grateful. She just comes here and complains about everything.’
Adriana’s fine brows rose.
‘She happens to be a very old friend. And if it makes her any happier to complain, I’m sure she’s welcome. If I’d had her life I’d probably do a bit of complaining myself.’
Ninian kissed the tips of his fingers to her.
‘You wouldn’t. But we’ll let that go. Mabel shall come and enjoy herself to the top of her bent. Relays of guests provided to listen to her woes, and a constant supply of clean pocket-handkerchiefs to catch the frequent tear!’
Mrs Preston arrived next day. Her visits to Ford House were the only breaks in the dullest of dull lives. She inhabited two furnished rooms in one of the cheaper suburbs, and she had very few friends. People had troubles of their own and were disinclined to listen to endless stories of how badly she had been treated by practically everyone with whom she had come in contact. Four times a year she went down to Ford House and poured out the old grievances. Adriana, not given to suffering incompetence gladly, was surprisingly patient under the infliction, but towards the close of the visit the patience was apt to wear thin and she would speak her mind, thereby adding an up-to-date grievance to the old mouldering ones with which poor Mabel Preston’s mind was cluttered. After which she would say she was sorry and forget the whole thing.
Ninian was despatched to meet the 11.45 at Ledbury. He came to the nursery, looking for Janet, and found her sorting through Stella’s clothes.
‘Darling, you’ve got to save my life. If I meet Mabel alone, I don’t suppose I shall survive it. Snatch a coat and come too!’
‘I’ve got to fetch Stella from the Vicarage.’
‘And you know, and I know, and so does everyone else, that she won’t be ready till half past twelve. There’s oodles of time.’
‘Well, I’m sorting these clothes.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ve just had a cable from Star. She wants to know a whole string of things.’
‘Why didn’t she find them out before she went?’
‘It doesn’t seem to have occurred to her. She says the children’s frocks are entrancing, and she wants to send some over for Stella. I’m to cable measurements.’
‘I suppose she knows what she’ll have to pay in the customs?’
‘I don’t suppose it has crossed her mind. And she won’t have to pay it – Adriana will. I’ve just been breaking it to her.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Laughed and said she had been getting a good many clothes herself, it was only fair that Stella should have some too. She seems to be fond of Star.’
‘Everyone is. Even your chilly heart contrives a little warmth.’
‘I have not got a chilly h
eart.’
He shook his head.
‘ “The proof of the pudding is in the eating” – “Deeds before words”, and all the rest of it.’ He began to recite in a melancholy voice:
‘ “A man of words and not of deeds
Is like a garden full of weeds,
And when the weeds begin to grow
It’s like a garden full of snow.”
There you have it to a T. And later on there’s a line about “It’s like a penknife in your heart”, only I can’t remember how you get there. Look here, snatch that coat and come, or we’ll be late for the train, and that will give Mabel something to talk about for the rest of her visit. Honestly, darling, I can’t face her alone. I’d do a lot for Adriana, but there are limits. And we’ll go down the back stairs in case Meriel has one of her bright ideas about three being company.’
Janet found herself caught up in what felt extraordinarily like one of their old games of hide-and-seek with the grown-ups. They crept out by the back door, skirted the stable yard, and got away to an exhilarating sense of escape. The car was an old Daimler, the faithful servant of many seasons. It ate petrol, but it went on year in, year out, and it took them to Ledbury station with a good five minutes to spare.
Mrs Preston got out of a third-class carriage and came drooping towards them. She was a tall, thin woman with a desiccated look. Everything she had on had once been Adriana’s, only instead of the effect being dashing there was a general air of having come down in the world and not liking it. The grey checked coat and skirt hung loosely and dipped at the back. The short moleskin coat was rubbed. And nothing could have been less becoming than the hat in a bright emerald shade and the magenta scarf wound twice about a stringy neck. She shook hands and said in what Meeson called her moaning voice,
The Silent Pool Page 7