A Hallowed Place

by Caro Fraser

  ‘Don’t you? Then you’re pretty short-sighted. He’s very close to you—’

  ‘Was.’

  ‘All right - was. And I think he regards your time and affection as his special property. He’s never liked me.’

  Anthony sighed. ‘I suppose you’re right. Okay, we’re all capable of being selfish when it comes down to it. But I don’t think Leo just upped and left through motives of selfishness.’

  ‘Well, it’s hardly considerate behaviour, is it? Poor old Henry and Felicity have to cope with the fall out, and the rest of us suffer, too.’

  Anthony stared at her. He realised that it was all black and white to Camilla, that she was too young and callous to understand the complexities and difficulties of someone like Leo. The confidence she had gained over the past year, he saw, had brought with it a touch of arrogance. He felt suddenly protective of Leo, in the face of her lack of concern for Leo’s well-being. ‘Well, we can’t all be as brave and assured as you, can we?’ he replied.

  At that moment David came back to the table, Sarah in his wake. She shrugged off her coat and sat down, while David went to get her a drink.

  ‘Nice to see you two together again. You must have missed one another.’ Sarah smiled enigmatically and glanced at Anthony. ‘Did the weeks seem terribly long?’

  ‘Oh, spare us,’ said Anthony. It was all very well, he realised, to agree that things stopped as soon as Camilla came back, but he was unable to behave with Sarah’s cool composure. This guilt thing, he told himself, was out of control.

  ‘Still, I’m sure you did your best to keep busy.’ She glanced up as David set her drink down on the table. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘So,’ said David, sitting down and turning to Anthony, ‘you said earlier you’d been trying Leo’s flat all day. No luck?’

  Anthony shook his head. ‘I’m going to go round after this. Not that I expect to find him there. I rather think he’s gone to his place in the country.’

  Sarah glanced from Anthony to David in surprise. ‘What’s this about Leo?’

  ‘Didn’t you know? He’s just dropped everything, told Felicity and Henry he was going away for a few weeks.’ David sipped his pint. ‘Seems he has a few problems that need sorting out.’

  Anthony noticed Sarah’s troubled expression and remarked, ‘Why are you looking so worried? It’s nothing to you.’ He couldn’t help the slight brutality of his tone, a kind of revenge for her mischievous remark of a few moments ago.

  Sarah turned and stared coldly at Anthony. He was reminded suddenly of the unpredictability of her temper. ‘Dear Anthony, you must think you have a monopoly on concern for Leo. For your information, I probably know him far better than you ever will. Don’t look so surprised. We go back a long way. I regard him as a friend, and at least we’ve always treated one another with honesty. That’s not exactly your speciality when it comes to relationships, is it?’ She glanced at Camilla, then took a swallow of her drink and stood up, preparing to put on her coat. ‘I don’t feel like staying, somehow.’ And she left.

  ‘Phew!’ said David. ‘I’m not quite sure I understood what that was all about. I didn’t know she and Leo were more than passing acquaintances. Well, well. Other people’s lives, eh?’

  Anthony said nothing for a few seconds, trying to fathom the implication of what Sarah had said. A strange quiet fell over the group. Anthony drained the remains of his pint and said at last, ‘If I’m going round to Leo’s, I’d better not leave it too late.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Camilla.

  They left David sitting alone at the table, slightly baffled. Clearly there was much that went on in chambers of which he knew absolutely nothing.

  Anthony and Camilla walked in preoccupied silence along Fleet Street. It was drizzling and all the taxis which flashed past them were taken, their ‘for hire’ signs unlit. At the corner of Waterloo Bridge they stopped and waited.

  ‘What was Sarah getting at in the pub?’ asked Camilla suddenly.

  Anthony, lost in his ruminations over Leo and Sarah, turned to glance at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘About honesty in relationships not being your speciality. Why did she say it in that particular way?’

  Anthony suddenly felt everything come to a head, his anxiety about Leo, his guilty conscience, his exasperation with Camilla’s arrogance over Leo’s problems - that and the impossibility of finding a taxi cab in the rain. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he muttered. He spoke incautiously, knowing as he did so that it would have been better and easier just to fob her off with some explanation concerning the time that he and Sarah had been seeing one another. But something - perhaps weariness at the concealment, or self-disgust - tempted him to let it all come out now. Then it could be dealt with. If she loved him enough, she would forgive him. Everyone made mistakes.

  ‘What doesn’t matter?’ She looked at him, her eyes large and fearful. ‘It’s got something to do with the way you’ve been behaving recently, hasn’t it? Something happened while I was away and you haven’t told me.’

  He turned to her. ‘Yes, it did and I wish to God it never had. It meant absolutely nothing and I’m truly sorry about it. You’ve got to believe me.’ He hesitated. ‘I slept with Sarah. It was after a drinks thing in chambers. I suppose I’d had too much to drink, but beyond that I’ve got no excuses.’ Already he was lying, he realised. By making it sound as though it had happened just once, he was hoping to lessen the crime, mitigate the effects. He waited, helplessly, his eyes on her face. ‘I’m truly sorry.’ She looked away, her expression unreadable. A taxi with its yellow light on came towards them and Anthony automatically lifted his hand. The cab drew up by the kerb. ‘I’m glad you know now, in a way. It meant absolutely nothing and I’ve been feeling guilty as hell. Please, come on. We can talk in the taxi.’ He opened the door, waiting for her to get in.

  But Camilla remained motionless on the pavement. Then she shook her head. ‘I can’t come with you to Leo’s. I’m going home.’ She turned and walked quickly away through the rain, almost breaking into a run. Anthony called after her, his hand still on the handle of the taxi door.

  The cabbie slid down his window and leant over. ‘Come on, mate! You getting in, or what?’

  Anthony hesitated, watching her hurrying off down Fleet Street. Maybe it would be better to let her go, talk to her later. It was done now. He got into the cab and gave the driver Leo’s address.

  When they reached the square in Belgravia, Anthony asked the cabbie to wait. He got out, glancing up at the darkened windows, and went up the few steps to the front door, where he pressed the bell. There was no answer. He waited for a few minutes, then rang again. At last he turned and went back down the steps to the cab.

  He took the taxi home, had something to eat, and after an hour or so rang Camilla. She sounded weary, but at least she was prepared to talk to him. Reproach, he thought, was a good sign, the first step towards forgiving him.

  ‘I can’t believe that you would do something like that, take advantage of the fact that I was away and sleep with someone else.’ On her way home, after leaving Anthony standing by the taxi, Camilla had resolved that she would end things between them. Hurt and anger had been uppermost. It seemed that what Anthony had done was unforgivable. Now, hearing his voice, she felt a fatal reluctance to let it all go, just like that.

  ‘I told you. It was a mistake, a really stupid thing to have done, and I’ve been regretting it ever since it happened. It meant nothing. We’d had a lot to drink, and you know how Sarah can be—’

  ‘Oh, please, Anthony! Don’t try to blame it on Sarah! Credit me with a little sense.’

  ‘No, no, you’re right. I mean, I’m just trying to explain how it happened. I’m so, so sorry. What else can I say?’

  ‘Anthony.’ She sighed miserably. ‘You sound as though you’re apologising for breaking a window, or something. We’re talking about trust here. About feelings. What you’ve done changes things.’

  ‘
It mustn’t. You mustn’t let it. That’s the last thing I want. That is what I’m afraid of more than anything else. Please. I love you. I’m asking you to forgive me.’

  Camilla didn’t speak for a few minutes. Then at last she said, ‘I don’t know. I’m feeling very tired and upset, and a bit confused. What you’ve done has really hurt me. I don’t think you realise that.’

  ‘I do. Of course I do.’

  ‘Well, anyway, I’ve got a lot on tomorrow, so I’m going to bed early.’

  ‘Will I see you tomorrow evening?’

  ‘I don’t know. Let’s just leave it for now, shall we?’

  It wasn’t entirely satisfactory, thought Anthony when he hung up. But he had a feeling that, with a little time, it could be made all right again. Okay, so he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. But how could he possibly tell her the whole truth? She might overlook one single act of infidelity, but a whole series, night after night? He doubted it. And he didn’t blame her. He could look back on his brief fling with Sarah and know it was unforgivable, but on the other hand he knew exactly why he had done it. Because Sarah had been there, on offer. Not that it was any excuse. He just had a weak character where sex was concerned. He sat pondering the deep and contradictory mysteries of sexuality and morality for some time.

  A week later, Charles announced that he was going to Romania to film some footage for his latest documentary.

  ‘How long will you be gone?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘Only a couple of weeks. Though why an entire television crew has to be transported all the way to the foothills of the Transylvanian Alps just to film me talking about the formation of the anti-Ottoman coalition is beyond me. I could as well do it from the bottom of our back garden. Still—’ he embraced Rachel and kissed her nose ‘—tell me you’ll miss me.’

  ‘I shall.’ It was true. She felt a hollow pang at the thought of being without his steady, loving, cheerful company even for a couple of weeks. The whole custody business seemed to keep her nerves in a constant brittle state and Charles was important to her sanity. She wanted it all settled, finished, so that she could sort out her contradictory feelings about Leo, relegate him to his proper place in her life. Then she would feel that she and Charles and Oliver were a safe unit. ‘Oliver will miss you most, I suspect. He has you around all day.’

  ‘I’ll bring him back a Vlad the Impaler doll. I’ll bet the shops in Bucharest are bursting with them.’

  Rachel laughed helplessly. ‘Don’t you dare!’ She hugged him. ‘When do you leave?’

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon. I wish I could take you with me.’ He paused, then looked suddenly inspired. ‘In fact, why don’t you come? I’ll bet if we slip apple-cheeked Margaret a serious wad of money she’d be prepared to move in for the duration. Then Oliver would be regularly fed and watered, and all would be hunky-dory. What do you think?’ The idea was growing in attraction at top speed in Charles’s mind. Oliver took up so much of Rachel’s time and attention when she was at home - which, given her work, was not as much as Charles would like. He longed to have her to himself, without all the responsibilities and distractions that Oliver involved. Sometimes just having a sustained conversation seemed like hard work with Oliver around. He was, without question, the number one man in Rachel’s life, a position which Charles very much wanted to occupy, even if only for two weeks.

  But Charles could tell from her expression that she didn’t feel the same enthusiasm as he did for the idea. ‘Oh, Charles, it’s a lovely idea … But two weeks is a long time. I couldn’t just leave Oliver. He’d miss me dreadfully. He’s too little to understand, and he might think I was never coming back, or something awful like that.’

  ‘Well, a week then,’ urged Charles, feeling the impetus slipping away. ‘One week’s not long.’

  ‘It would be to him. And there’s my work, you know. It’s not that easy just to drop things.’

  ‘What if you were suddenly taken ill, or something? You’d have to drop it then. And the world wouldn’t come to an end because of it. Someone else would hold the fort. Come on - live a little. Come with me. Just for a few days. We could have a great time, just the two of us.’

  The last five words were the wrong ones. Although Rachel trusted Charles’s affection for Oliver, she harboured a subconscious feeling that he might prefer it if Oliver did not exist. It made her react defensively, as she did now, grabbing at an excuse. ‘Charles, it’s not that easy. Frankly, I don’t think I have any holiday time left, not after the three weeks I took over the summer and the time that I want to take off at Christmas.’ She made a rueful face. ‘I’m sorry, darling. It’s a nice idea, but for all those reasons, I really don’t see that it’s possible.’

  Charles sighed. He was fighting a losing battle here. It happened whenever he suggested that they should spend some time away from Oliver, even if it was just dinner together in Bath. Rachel was always reluctant. And on the odd occasions when they were apart from the child - such as the times when Leo took him for the day - she was on edge, constantly thinking about him, waiting for the hours to pass until she was with him again. Charles had to admit to himself that he very strongly hoped that the court would decide in Leo’s favour in the matter of contact with Oliver. Not just for Oliver’s sake, or for Leo’s, but for his own.

  ‘Okay,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘It was just a thought.’

  The week after Charles’s departure went by in a humdrum fashion. Rachel made sure that she left work promptly every night so that she would be home in time to bath Oliver and read to him before he went to bed. Margaret, the nanny from the village, had to come in earlier than usual in the mornings to be there when Rachel went to work. Often Oliver was still asleep when she left. Guy Fawkes Night fell in the middle of that first week, and Rachel wheeled Oliver in his pushchair down to the village green to watch the fireworks in the evening and wished that Charles could be there. She realised then, as she stood watching the rockets explode into crystalline stars against the black night, how much she loved and relied upon Charles as a part of her peace and order and security. He was her bedrock. The feelings she had for Leo were something much darker, to do with pain and rejection, and experiences she did not care to revisit. Still he persisted in her thoughts, and in her love, despite every effort she made to excise him.

  Thoughts of Leo were still in her mind next morning at work and, when the switchboard put through a call from him, the coincidence of it startled her. ‘Leo,’ she said, ‘I was just thinking about you.’

  ‘Were you?’ His voice sounded tired.

  He said nothing more, and after a pause she asked, ‘Are you all right? You sound a bit low.’

  ‘Yes - no - I’m fine. I just wondered if I could see Oliver this weekend, maybe on Saturday. If that’s all right with you. And Charles, of course.’

  ‘Well, the thing is, Charles is away at the moment, and—’ She stopped, realising that she was letting herself be panicked by the idea of being on her own for a day at the weekend. Absurd. Unhealthy. ‘Still,’ she went on, ‘I don’t suppose that makes any difference. Yes, if you like. Saturday’s fine.’ She could get a few chores done while Oliver was away, things which always got slowed down when he was around, and perhaps go into Bath to do some shopping. It would fill in the time. Better than Sunday, when the hours would just drag. ‘What time will you pick him up?’

  ‘About ten. I’ll have him back by six.’

  There was an odd lifelessness in Leo’s voice, as though some subtle strength had faded from his personality. The change left Rachel at a loss. All their recent exchanges had been charged, often vitriolic, but there had always been life in them.

  ‘That’s fine. I’ll have his things ready.’ She hesitated. ‘Leo, are you sure you’re all right? You don’t sound yourself.’

  ‘Yes,’ snapped Leo. ‘I’m absolutely fine. Just tired.’

  That was marginally better, to hear him get tetchy. ‘Okay, okay. I’ll see you on Saturday, then. Bye.’ />
  Leo said nothing, just hung up. Rachel put the phone down slowly. She thought of Leo coming to fetch Oliver on Saturday, of seeing him on her own, without Charles there. Charles’s presence always kept the atmosphere nice and even. Without him there, Leo might take the opportunity to go on the offensive. She hoped not. She didn’t think she could stand that. If the temperature rose, she might find herself giving way to feelings she hardly wished to acknowledge. She just wanted relations with Leo to stay neutral and safe. And then she realised that the thought of seeing him on her own made her a little afraid. Afraid and excited.

  ‘Good heavens!’ said Rachel. Then she laughed, putting her hand to her mouth. ‘I didn’t realise you were growing a beard.’

  ‘I’m not,’ said Leo. ‘I just can’t be bothered to shave.’ He stood in the doorway on Saturday morning in his battered leather jacket and old trousers, his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. After the initial shock of his week-old beard, Rachel realised that his hair was longer too. That, and the contrasting darkness of his beard, made him look younger and slightly sinister. His appearance sat at odds with his air of weary carelessness.

  Oliver toddled towards Leo and clung to his trouser leg, waiting to be picked up. Leo hoisted him up to his shoulder and Oliver laughed and passed a small, fat hand over the dark bristles of Leo’s beard.

  ‘What do your clients think?’ asked Rachel, folding her arms.

  ‘I haven’t got any,’ replied Leo indifferently. He kissed Oliver and smiled at him. It was a smile solely for Oliver, clearly unrelated to anything else in life.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Rachel.

  Leo turned to look at her again, as though seeing her properly for the first time. ‘I’m having a few days off. That’s all.’ He spoke calmly, as if in reassurance.

  Rachel was still puzzled. ‘Your clerk can’t be very happy about that. Or was it planned?’

  To this Leo made no answer, but wandered towards the kitchen table, Oliver still in his arms, and picked up the bag of Oliver’s belongings. ‘Six all right?’ he asked.