Kate's Progress

by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

  She got up the next morning, dressed, and Ed carried her downstairs to the drawing room where he arranged her on a sofa near a window so she could see out. ‘You can’t think what a difference it makes, just to have a change of scene,’ she said. ‘I feel an awful fraud, being treated like an invalid when I feel fine.’ But she didn’t, quite. She still felt very tired, and strangely languid.

  Chewy generously offered to sit on her lap, and when she declined, he agreed to express his devotion to her from the floor at her side. Ed was in and out all morning, with ‘stuff to do’, but she had her first visitor from outside the house. The Brigadier came in mid-morning, looking handsome and smart in dark green tweed with a buff waistcoat, his hair, unusually, slightly ruffled, which made him look younger.

  She was reading an old leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice she had found in one of the bookcases. ‘Very suitable reading for the sofa,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Jane Austen ladies seem to have a lot of sofas in their lives.’

  ‘Have you read it?’ Kate asked.

  ‘I’m waiting for the movie,’ he said, straight-faced. From behind his back he produced a bunch of flowers, already in a vase. ‘For you. It’s very dull in here, I thought you’d need some colour. Mrs B gave me a vase on the way in.’

  Kate was enchanted, and thanked him heartily. ‘The place does need a bit of TLC,’ she agreed. ‘I’m rather surprised, really, that Camilla hasn’t done anything to it, given how posh her bedroom is.’

  He sat down catty-corner to her, the sunlight coming in at the window lighting his face, and the fine lines of experience which gave it its character. He’d make a wonderful father, she thought – and husband.

  ‘I don’t think she cares about the house. Doesn’t consider it her home, which is odd given how long she’s lived here. But then, it doesn’t belong to her. That must make a difference.’

  ‘I imagine so,’ said Kate.

  ‘And of course, it would take a lot of hard work. I think she’d be happier with a smaller place where she could make an impact and see the results more easily.’

  ‘Are we talking about your house, by any chance?’ she asked slyly.

  He almost blushed. ‘No chance,’ he said. ‘But it is smaller, as it happens, and really rather a lovely house – the best period of Queen Anne. The drawing room is particularly handsome – beautiful proportions and a very fine fireplace. Needs a woman’s touch, though. You must come and see it when you’re back on your feet. When is that going to be?’

  ‘I’ll be limping about in a few days. But apparently it takes a couple of weeks to heal completely. But I don’t want you changing the subject.’

  ‘What subject?’

  ‘We’re talking about you and Camilla.’

  ‘There is no “me and Camilla”,’ he said sadly. ‘She’d never have me.’

  ‘But have you actually asked her?’ Kate urged.

  ‘No point,’ he said. ‘I know what she thinks.’

  ‘Excuse me, but no-one ever knows what another person thinks. I saw you together on Monday; you looked so comfortable. And I saw the way she was looking at you.’

  Now he did blush. ‘Please. You mustn’t say such things. I couldn’t afford to keep her in the style she’s accustomed to.’

  ‘I’ve been talking to her, and I think she’s bored and lonely and would be willing to give up a house she doesn’t like living in anyway in exchange for a husband. You’re not actually stony broke, are you?’

  ‘Not at all, but my income is modest compared with all this.’ He waved a hand. ‘But I do have some good news, which is partly what I came to share. You know I talked about the firm I’ve set up?’

  ‘I remember. Bouncers R Us,’ Kate said.

  He laughed. ‘That’s a good name for it. I wish I’d thought of that. Well, I just heard this morning that I’ve landed a contract I’ve been angling after – a big contract to supply security personnel to Balkan House – that big new skyscraper in the city, on Threadneedle Street. The HR director’s an old army buddy of mine, so of course he understands the value of what I’m offering, the reliable, personally-vetted ex-army bods.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Kate said. ‘That sounds like good news.’

  ‘It is, very – it’s a lucrative contract, and it ought to open the door to more like it. My friend can put me in touch with useful people in that area. As long as I don’t muff it—’

  ‘Which you won’t.’

  ‘It should guarantee the success of my firm, and make all the difference to my income.’

  Kate sat up straighter. ‘That’s brilliant! Then there’s nothing to hold you back!’

  He shook his head. ‘The impetuousness of youth! You jump straight from my new contract to Camilla as if there’s nothing in the way.’

  ‘Well, isn’t there? Oh –’ she suddenly thought – ‘unless you won’t want to be a stepfather to Jocasta.’

  ‘I love Jocasta,’ he said, ‘and I think she likes me. We do at least have horses and dogs in common. But I’ve no reason to think Camilla favours me over any of her other suitors.’

  ‘I think she does.’

  ‘Or that she wants to get married.’

  ‘I think she does – listen, she said to me yesterday that she’s tired of shopping.’

  There was a brief, reverent silence. ‘She said that?’ he breathed. Kate nodded. He said, thoughtfully, ‘When we were talking on Monday, she said something about being sorry she’d never had the chance to have more children. It made my sad old heart dance a hornpipe, I can tell you – until I told myself she couldn’t possibly have been thinking about me when she said it.’

  ‘Well, I tell you one thing,’ Kate said sagely, ‘you’ll never know if you don’t ask her. It seems to me she’s been giving you hints, but you can’t expect her to do all the work. She’s not going to propose to you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect her to,’ he said with dignity. And then, ‘But suppose she refuses me?’

  ‘Then you won’t be any worse off than you are now. But suppose she doesn’t?’ His face took on a dreamy cast as he imagined it. ‘Look here,’ she said briskly, ‘I think she deserves the chance to say yes or no, don’t you? And she can’t do that unless you ask the question. You’re disenfranchising her.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said, though still a little uncertainly.

  ‘I expect a bit more decisiveness than that from an army chap,’ she said sternly. ‘Where’s your backbone, Brigadier?’

  He grinned. ‘It seems you’ve got it. Hand it over, will you?’ She held out her hand, smiling, and he shook it heartily. ‘You’re right, I’ve been behaving like an ass. I shall cease and desist forthwith from being a …’

  ‘Blancmange?’ she supplied helpfully.

  ‘Blancmange it is. I shall ask her. I’ll do it properly, take her out to dinner, put the facts before her, and pop the question.’

  ‘Good for you. She’s at the Country Club again this morning. If you rang her there, you could make a date right away.’

  He stood up. ‘I’ll do it.’ He bent over and kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you came to Bursford.’

  He went away with a spring in his step, and she went back to Jane Austen, thinking that she might prove good at solving other people’s problems, but it didn’t get her any nearer to solving her own.

  Twenty-Two

  Jack came back from the factory at lunchtime, and between them he and Ed helped her hop to the table so she could eat more comfortably. It was only soup and a sandwich, but it was nice to be civilized again.

  The brothers talked about business and local affairs, and Kate was happy just to eat and listen, and bask in the comfort of their company.

  When they were drinking coffee, Jack said to Ed, ‘Oh, I brought those figures you asked me for. But I can’t see what they’ve got to do with Kate’s problem.’ He looked at her. ‘I told him I promised you I’d investigate. I’m getting nowhere and I thought two heads woul
d be better than one – especially his. He’s got all the brains in this family.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologize,’ Kate said. ‘I’d be glad of anyone’s help.’

  ‘I spoke to your neighbours,’ Jack went on, ‘and I used your key to have a look inside, but there doesn’t seem to have been anything else done to it.’

  ‘Which is interesting,’ Ed remarked.

  ‘Is it?’ Jack looked blank.

  ‘It suggests they know Kate is away. They don’t want to attack when she’s not there.’

  ‘But I thought we agreed that they attacked when they knew she was out,’ Jack said, puzzled.

  ‘Yes, out,’ Ed said patiently, ‘not away.’

  Kate got it. ‘You mean, I’d have to be going back there so I could see what they’d done?’

  ‘Of course. No point otherwise.’

  ‘So they know she’s not just out shopping or something, but staying away?’ said Jack. ‘So who does that give us? Her neighbours?’

  ‘They’d never do anything like that,’ Kate said firmly.

  ‘No, I don’t think they would. They sent their love, by the way. But who else knows?’

  ‘Anyone they’ve told,’ said Ed, ‘and anyone who knows us.’

  Jack looked disappointed. ‘That’s just about everybody. I asked Phil who that man was he was talking to at Cothelstone, by the way, but he didn’t know who I meant. He said he spoke to a lot of people at Cothelstone. I tried describing him, but it didn’t ring any bells. Maybe I’m not very good at describing.’

  ‘That reminds me,’ Ed said, getting up. ‘Wait here a minute.’ He returned with his laptop, tapped something up, and then swung it round to show Kate.

  There on the screen was a lean-faced, professional-looking man in a dark overcoat with a tall building behind him; he had evidently just quit the building and was walking away in company with another overcoated man, his mouth open in conversation, his eyes narrowed at the camera as if he had just seen he was being snapped.

  ‘Yes,’ said Kate. ‘It looks like him. The man I saw at Cothelstone.’

  ‘Jack?’ He showed the screen to Jack.

  ‘The one on the left? Looks like the same bloke.’

  ‘And you saw him again at Buscombe,’ Ed said to Kate.

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘When I was carrying you into the first-aid tent, you said you saw him.’

  ‘I’m a bit muddled about that time.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. I saw him too. I thought I recognized him but I couldn’t place him.’

  ‘Yes, I thought he looked familiar,’ Jack put in.

  ‘I’ve been trawling around Google trying to find him. It’s not easy finding a face without a name. But then it suddenly came to me where I’d seen him before – at a fund-raiser in London – so I was able to access the guest list.’

  ‘So who is he?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Tony Rylance. He’s a developer mainly, backs some start-ups, does a bit on the market. Beginning to make a name for himself, and thought to have political ambitions. Addison’s met him.’

  ‘That’s right! I’ve seen his picture in the paper. He’s a bit of a player,’ Jack said. ‘So what was he doing down here over the Bank Holiday weekend? Has he got a place down here?’

  ‘I don’t know that yet. I’ve only just got his name,’ Ed said.

  ‘Well, a big wheel like that can’t have any interest in me,’ Kate said, feeling at once slightly relieved and slightly concerned. ‘He can’t have been staring at me. It must have been just coincidence.’

  ‘Some coincidence!’ Jack protested.

  ‘No, really – he looked at me at Cothelstone because I was staring in his direction. And at Buscombe – well, anyone would look at someone being carried into the first-aid tent.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ said Ed. ‘But I’ll look into it anyway. Meanwhile, you put it from your mind. Jack, those figures?’

  Jack produced the sheaf of papers, and lunch was over. Ed went off with the papers and his laptop, Jack helped Kate back to the sofa, and with an apology went back to work. As the house grew quiet, Sylvester found her lap, and with her living hot-water-bottle on her stomach, Kate fell asleep.

  Camilla came back from another session of bridge at the country club, and breezed in on Kate with a smile so wide, it was a wonder her face didn’t fall in half. ‘I shan’t be in to dinner tonight,’ she announced. ‘I’ll tell Mrs B. You’ll be eating down, won’t you? So it’ll just be the four of you, assuming Addison arrives in time for dinner.’

  ‘I believe she intends to,’ Kate said. That would be a fine meal, she thought, with no-one to keep Pocahontas occupied with talk of shopping and designer labels. She wondered if she might stage a judicious relapse and have a tray in her bedroom. Then she caught up with Camilla’s news. ‘Are you going somewhere nice?’ she asked casually.

  ‘Harry’s taking me out to dinner,’ Camilla said. Kate studied her, and could not for the life of her tell how pleased she was. Pleased, yes – but intensely so, or just glad for the variety? ‘He said something about Armandine’s in Dunster. Said he had some news to tell me. It must be pretty good news – Armandine’s is ridiculously expensive. I’ve only ever been there once. I hope he’s not going to ruin himself in the hope of impressing me, because I’d be happy enough with the Ship or the Blue Ball.’

  It seemed to Kate rather a good sign that she was concerned about Harry’s welfare. She didn’t seem to consider the expense of anything else she did.

  ‘I don’t think he’d take you somewhere he couldn’t afford,’ she said. ‘He’s too sensible. What are you going to wear?’

  That set Camilla off on a long debate about various outfits, none of which Kate knew so she couldn’t offer any opinions. After a bit, Camilla said she had better go and have her bath and start getting poshed up, and apologized that she didn’t have time to take tea with Kate. ‘But he’s picking me up at seven thirty.’

  Kate nodded understandingly. A mere three hours to get ready? Camilla was cutting it fine.

  Camilla was only just ready when the Brigadier arrived, punctual to the dot, and Kate was upstairs in her room so she didn’t get to see the result of all that labour, or to judge how nervous or confident the Brigadier was feeling. She silently wished him luck, and looked through her own meagre collection of clothes, wondering what to wear down to dinner.

  ‘Not that it matters,’ she said to Chewy, who was watching her from her bed. ‘All eyes will be on Pocahontas. Still, one has one’s pride.’

  Chewy wagged his tail in agreement, giving her a wide smile. I’d love you in anything, he said.

  ‘That’s very nice,’ she told him, ‘but you are not noted for your sartorial taste.’ Jack had told her he had once chewed up one of Ed’s riding boots, and it was not just a cheap rubber one, but an expensive leather Ottoviano. Or was that, au contraire, a sign that he only liked the best? ‘In which case, thanks,’ she told him.

  The sound of the Brigadier’s car had hardly died away before Addison arrived. Kate heard the arrival from upstairs – first the sports car roaring in and screeching to a halt on the last of the gravel, then voices, then the unmistakable sound of Addison’s voice dominating everything, then noises on the stairs. They went the other way at the landing, to the family side, and grew fainter, though the underlying rhythm of her talking never quite ceased. After a time, there was a tap on Kate’s door, and Mrs B was there to tell her dinner was being put back half an hour: ‘So Miss Bruckmeyer can have time to change.’

  She looked glum, and Kate said, ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘No, it is not,’ she said. ‘I can’t be expected to change the way I cook after all these years. I’ve never had anything but compliments on my food, and suddenly it’s nothing but carping and fiddle-faddle and “can’t eat this” and “can’t eat that”. If it goes on I shall give my notice.’

  ‘Oh no! Surely you wouldn’t do that?’

  Mrs B stuck her
lip out, but her eyes were moist. ‘I never thought I’d leave Ed and Jack. They’re like my own boys. And we’d hate to have to find somewhere else to live, Bradshaw and me. But tofu and mung beans and I don’t know what else? Stuff I’ve never heard of, nothing but parrot-food. And no cream or butter or anything good and wholesome to eat? It’s not to be borne. If Ed’s not satisfied with my cooking, I shall go.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s perfectly satisfied,’ Kate said.

  ‘Maybe, but it’s not his opinion that matters any more, is it?’ And she stomped away downstairs.

  Kate heard the others go downstairs, Addison still talking, and after a bit realized she had been forgotten. She could hop all right on the level, as long as she had something to grab on to, but stairs were beyond her. About five minutes later, however, Jack came galloping up to fetch her. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘We were wondering where you were when I suddenly realized you couldn’t make it alone.’

  He had wondered, she thought. Not Ed. Ed’s attention, of course, was now fully occupied.

  ‘Was the wait worth it?’ she asked. ‘Is she gorgeous?’

  ‘Surprisingly muted,’ Jack said, arm round her as she hopped through the door. ‘Almost virginal.’ After a pace or two he said, ‘Look, this’ll take all night. Why don’t you let me carry you?’

  ‘If you think you can manage,’ she said with relief. Hopping was exhausting.

  ‘You’re just a feather,’ he assured her. ‘Now if it was Pocahontas …’

  ‘She’s very slim,’ Kate pointed out.

  ‘She’s also very tall. And she gives the impression of being enormous. Not fat, I don’t mean, but unignorable, like an elephant. Don’t you think?’

  Being in Jack’s arms was not like being in Ed’s, but it was very nice. ‘You smell nice,’ she told him.

  ‘So do you,’ he said promptly, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  ‘Mrs B thinks Ed’s going to marry Addison and install her as mistress of the house, and then she’ll have to leave. Mrs B will.’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ Jack said.