by Leo McNeir
“The consultant was going to talk to her first to make sure it didn’t do more harm than good. She’s pretty confused much of the time, but has lucid moments and behaves quite normally. Apparently this is typical for her condition.”
“How long has she been like this? Presumably not all the time since she was your girlfriend at college?”
“No. It comes and goes. Obviously the doctor wasn’t going to discuss his patient’s psychiatric history with a stranger on the phone, but in the circumstances he did say she now realised she wasn’t married to me, or to anyone else.”
“Why did she imagine that you were married?” Anne said. “Were you going to be?”
Ralph took a sip of his gin and tonic. “Tricia was always keener on the idea than I was. She was keener on the whole relationship, to be honest. Things came to a head when we got to the end of our second year. She was reading Modern Languages – French and Italian – and was due to spend the third year in Montpellier. She’d got upset about us being separated for all that time and made a mess of her second year exams. That’s when she had the nervous breakdown. Instead of going to France she went back home to Nottingham.”
“Didn’t you go to visit her?” Anne asked. “Sorry. I’m just curious, since I spoke to her on the phone.”
“That’s okay,” said Ralph. “This doesn’t put me in a very good light, I’m afraid. I wrote of course, but Tricia’s family blamed me for her breakdown and made it clear I wasn’t welcome. I told myself I accepted their demand to keep a distance for Tricia’s own good, but the truth was, I wanted the relationship to end.”
“So you never saw her again?” Marnie said.
“No, never. In my final year I met Laura, fell in love, and that was it.”
“And Tricia never tried to contact you?”
Ralph sensed the hint of doubt in the question. “I got one or two letters from her, rather hysterical letters. I replied to the first just before going off to a summer school at Harvard. When I came back from America at the end of the long vacation there were two more and one from her mother telling me to stay away. She said seeing me again would only make things worse.”
“You were only trying to do the right thing for her sake,” Anne said.
“That was what I told myself at the time, but I think it was really just an excuse.”
9
Marnie and Ralph walked slowly through the spinney holding hands after work on Friday. Ralph had called in at the office barn around five-thirty to meet her, and they finished early to prepare for their meal with Anthony on Thyrsis. Anne would be taking things easy in her attic room for the evening.
“What time did you tell Anthony to come?” Marnie said.
“About seven-thirty.”
“What have you got planned?”
“Tomates provençales to start, red mullet with new potatoes, salad, cheese, fruit. That’s it. Simple.”
“And perfect,” said Marnie. “Did you tell him we wanted to talk about his future?”
“I didn’t actually tell him anything. I haven’t seen him for a few days. Mind you, that’s not surprising. From my study I can only see the canal, and I’m usually boggling at the computer. I just put a message through his hatch inviting him to come for supper and a chat.”
“How did he accept?” said Marnie.
“He left his calling card while I was out this morning. I came back to find a bottle of that excellent wine by the hatch with a note.”
In the galley Marnie took charge of the fish, while Ralph cut the tomatoes in half, big Italian beefsteak ‘Brandywines’, almost the size of grapefruits. As he chopped cloves of garlic, the pungent aroma mixed with the tang of the tomatoes to fill the galley.
When Marnie returned with herbs from the tub on the roof, she found Ralph pouring Orvieto. They settled into a comfortable routine, side by side, sipping the chilled white wine as they worked.
Marnie patted the fish dry in a paper towel and rinsed her hands. “I wonder if Anthony will have reached any decisions about his life.”
“I expect he has by now,” said Ralph. “What choice does he have? He’s got to make a clean break and start again.”
“Is it that simple?” said Marnie. “I can’t imagine any of his friends in the City – I assume he’s got some – they all seem to have them. I can’t see them queuing up to offer him directorships in their companies. Can you?”
“Who knows? He’s going to have to do something. The alternative is pretty bleak.”
“You think he could do something desperate, don’t you? When you came back yesterday and saw Anne looking upset, your first thought was of Anthony.”
“It did cross my mind. That’s why I think it’s important to talk to him, help him sort himself out.”
“Do you think the girl in the newspaper photos was under age?” said Marnie.
“There’s no actual evidence of that.”
“But do you think the newspaper can prove it?”
“They don’t have to, Marnie. As far as Anthony’s concerned, it doesn’t matter now. Just by making the accusation, the damage is done. Anthony’s finished, and he knows it.”
*
When Marnie returned to Thyrsis from taking Anne her supper, she heard male voices from the galley as she stepped down into the boat. Ralph was pulling the tomatoes out from under the grill as she shook hands with Anthony.
“Perfect timing,” said Ralph. “These are ready to serve. Anne okay?”
“Fine. I said I’d look in at the end of the evening if her light’s still on.” To Anthony she said, “You heard about her accident?”
“Ralph told me. I’m very sorry.”
They moved through to the dining area where Ralph had lit the candles, and Anthony’s wine stood in a decanter on the table. During the meal Anthony seemed more subdued than when they had last seen him, and Marnie thought she saw a slight tremble as he raised his glass. She wondered if he was drinking excessively in the lonely hours on his boat.
As they ate they chatted about their various boating experiences, until after the main course, when Ralph brought the cheeseboard to the table.
“This excellent wine ought to go well with these. There’s stilton, camembert, smoked cheddar.”
“Or do you prefer to eat the English way round,” Marnie asked, “with the dessert before the cheese?”
“I don’t mind,” said Anthony. “At home we ...” His voice faltered. “Sorry. It sometimes gets a bit –”
“That’s okay,” Ralph said. “We know you’ve got a lot on your mind just now. If it would help to talk about it ...”
Marnie had the feeling their idea of getting him to focus on the future was going to fail. When Anthony spoke it was almost inaudible. “This bloody business ...”
“And it’s probably none of our business,” Ralph said, almost as quietly. “But since you chose to come to us, or to me at least, I thought you might be in need of someone to talk to. Maybe now’s not the time.”
“When would be?”
“Well, sooner or later you’ve got to come to terms with your situation and decide what to do. This backwater has served a useful purpose, but –”
“I’ve gone over it again and again,” said Anthony. “Every time I think of a way out, I realise the whole thing is hopeless. Nobody’s going to believe my side of the story.”
“Your side?” said Marnie.
Anthony looked at her. “Yes. You don’t think there is another side, do you? If it’s in the papers, it has to be true.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
Anthony looked desperate. “It’s all so unjust, trial by newspaper. What chance have I got to put my side of the story?”
“Perhaps you could make a statement,” said Marnie, “if you thought that would put the record straight.”
“But don’t you see? I’d be playing into their hands, prolonging the story. They’d just use me to sell more papers.”
“Anthony’s right,” said Ralph.
“It would prolong the agony. And frankly, with those photos, you’d have your work cut out to make any kind of headway.”
“That’s a polite way of saying no-one would believe me. No-one does believe me.”
“Try us,” said Marnie.
“Based on what you’ve seen so far, what do you think happened?” said Anthony.
“I can only go by the newspaper reports and the photos.”
“Exactly. What would it take to make you believe that I was set up?”
Marnie hesitated. “It’s difficult.”
“Because you’ve seen the evidence with your own eyes. You’re convinced I’m as guilty as hell.”
“But the photos,” said Marnie gently. “It’s hard to refute that kind of evidence.”
“I know.” Anthony put his head in his hands. “And who could believe the photos distorted everything?”
“Anne did,” said Ralph.
Anthony looked up. “She did?”
“She thought you were being manoeuvred into position by the girl.”
“She was right.”
“So it was entrapment?” Marnie said.
Anthony nodded. “Could you believe that?”
Marnie ignored the question. “Was she under age?”
“No. I’m absolutely sure she wasn’t.”
“So you’re not denying that things happened between you,” said Marnie. “You’re saying that you were tricked. You’d be asking the public to regard you as the victim, rather than the predator. That’s a tall order these days, with so much sleaze about.”
“All I’m saying is that any man put in my position would have reacted the same way. Don’t you agree, Ralph?”
“I suppose so.” Ralph looked uncomfortable. “Probably, in nine cases out of ten.”
“Jesus, Ralph! The Pope would’ve had a hard time trying to resist what I faced.”
“What did you face exactly?” Marnie said. “What did they do?”
“They got this girl into my office as a researcher – it happens all the time, everybody has them – but she was planted. And she was okay until one evening she had a few drinks at a reception and began getting, well, familiar.”
“Couldn’t you stop her?” said Marnie.
“I did at first, but she persisted. And I’d had a couple of drinks myself. Anyway, it’s not the same for men. We’re different.” Anthony’s speech was becoming staccato and he was breathing erratically. “Now it’s come to this.” He leaned on the table, his head in his hands.
“Take it easy,” said Ralph quietly. “We didn’t mean to upset you. We actually wanted to help.”
But how? Marnie thought.
*
After supper Anne took the back copies of the Globe from her pending tray and cut out the articles about Anthony. From the bottom drawer of the desk she pulled out a file to hold the cuttings. In the drawer was another file, research papers on the Civil War prepared by Ralph’s Oxford colleague Dr. Fellheimer the previous summer. They had played an important part in resolving the mystery of the death of their friend Toni Petrie, the vicar of Knightly St John. Anne hesitated before reaching down and pulling out the file.
*
Anthony accepted a glass of Ralph’s cognac.
“Thyrsis being a trad,” said Ralph, “I’m afraid I don’t have the luxury of a stern deck.”
“Here’s as good as anywhere else,” Anthony said quietly. “I tend to avoid going out.”
Marnie was feeling frustrated that they seemed to be making no progress with Anthony. He was in turns despondent, bemused, despairing, anything but positive or constructive. It was so much against her own nature that she wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake him till he woke up. “Would you like some cream in your coffee?” she asked. Privately, she thought, God! this is so English! She wanted to scream. “Look, surely there must be some way out of this situation.” She pushed the sugar bowl towards Anthony.
“I’m open to any suggestions,” he said.
“You must have some ideas of your own, surely?”
His reply was weary. “Frankly, Marnie, I’m at my wits’ end. There are times when I don’t even know why I’m here or how I got into this mess in the first place.”
Ralph said, “You must’ve done something to upset Hawksby.”
“Hawksby?” said Marnie.
“The editor of the Globe.”
“How could I upset him?” said Anthony. “I don’t even know him.”
“What do you mean?” said Ralph. “Of course you know him. He was at our school.”
“North London Foundation?” Anthony looked bewildered. “I don’t remember him.”
“He was in the sixth when you came.” Ralph turned to Marnie. “We were the same intake, Anthony and I, transferring at thirteen. Hawksby was in the sixth form, and I knew him because he was head of my house that year.”
“So he presumably knows that you were there, too, Anthony,” said Marnie. “Your entry in Who’s Who will show that, won’t it?”
“Actually no. I left after two years, so the details just state that I was at Exeter Academy and Oxford.”
“You left early?” said Marnie.
Anthony smiled grimly. “I wasn’t thrown out for misconduct. My father died suddenly, leaving my mother with two children, a huge mortgage, debts and inadequate life insurance. I had to leave NLF at the end of that term. There was no question about it. It’s an expensive public school.”
“But Exeter Academy can’t have been cheap,” said Marnie.
“That’s right. But things changed. My mother’s uncle had a country house in south Devon. He was widowed, family grown up, successful in business. He invited us to live with him. All perfectly proper, you understand. We had a wing of the house for ourselves. He offered to put my sister and me through school. My mother trained as a teacher. A new start for us all.”
“So you could’ve gone back to NLF, presumably?” said Marnie.
“My mother wanted us to be near her, understandably. She’d lost her husband, wanted her children at home. Uncle Jack suggested Exeter Academy, which was nearby, and that was that.”
“And you changed your name,” Ralph added.
“Yes. In gratitude to my uncle I added his name, which was my mother’s maiden name, to my own. When I first met Ralph I was just plain Tony Brown.”
“A memorable meeting, as I recall,” said Ralph.
For the first time that evening, Anthony came alive. “Yes. Ralph rescued me from bullying. Some senior boys were about to push my head down the loo and flush the chain – some stupid schoolboy joke about my name and where brown matter usually went – and Ralph suddenly arrived on the scene. He was quite imposing even at thirteen. Knocked a couple of heads together and the rest backed off.”
“So you’ve been in touch ever since then?” said Marnie.
“No,” said Ralph. “We lost contact when Anthony moved away. That’s how it is when you’re young, and ...” He shrugged.
“We were never what you’d call friends,” Anthony finished the sentence for him. “Though I always had a high regard for Ralph. We didn’t see each other again until I became an MP. One day I was in a committee in the Commons and there, giving evidence, was Ralph.”
“And he recognised you?”
“Not immediately. And he’d made no connection with the name Anthony Leyton-Brown, not knowing that I’d changed my name.”
“So nor does Hawksby, presumably,” said Ralph thoughtfully.
“Would the old school tie make any difference to his moral crusade?” Marnie asked.
Ralph shook his head. “I doubt it.” He smiled. “It’s rich, actually, coming from Alec Hawksby, to hound Anthony on moral grounds, considering the skeletons he has in the cupboard.”
“Skeletons?” said Anthony.
“Let’s just say that you were lucky I was the one who found you being bullied in the washroom.”
“You think Hawksby would’ve joined in the bu
llying?” said Marnie.
“Oh no. Quite the reverse. Sorry, I ought to re-phrase that. He might well have wanted to console Anthony ... in private.”
Anthony looked shocked. “Really? You mean he’s –”
“AC / DC, I think is the term,” said Ralph.
“Bi-sexual?” said Marnie. “Do you have evidence, or was it just schoolboy gossip?”
To her surprise, Anthony reached across the table and put his hand on her arm. “That,” he said, “is the most encouraging thing I’ve heard in weeks.”
“In what sense?”
“You suggested that you wouldn’t believe it unless you had evidence.”
“I suppose that was the implication, yes.”
“And you’re right. Evidence is the only thing that matters. All the rest is loose change.” He withdrew his hand and turned to Ralph. “So what evidence do you have?”
“Well, of course it is mainly circumstantial.”
“Come on, then,” said Anthony.
“Don’t you remember the rumours about the girl he’s supposed to have made pregnant?”
“Marnie will only be satisfied with facts,” said Anthony. “Rumour isn’t good enough. Isn’t that right, Marnie?”
She felt pinned down, as if under cross-examination. “I was only saying ... well, that it seems wrong to judge a person without something to go on.”
“That’s the point,” said Anthony. “Evidence. Well, Ralph?”
“Naturally, there were no eye witnesses as such, but ... You remember Jenny Poulter, a junior house master’s daughter? She became pregnant. The deputy head boy in my house, who knew Hawksby well, said he was absolutely in a blue funk over it. The Headmaster sent for him and he left before the end of term. Luckily for him, it was the last term of the year and his last term of all, so it never came out that he was technically expelled. The whole business was hushed up.”
“Is that good enough, Marnie?” said Anthony.
“It’s all a bit sketchy. Do you know for sure that Jenny had the baby, Ralph?”