Simon, Henry and Tom came down from the poker room for provisions. ‘How many sandwiches each?’ Henry asked, and Jemima answered three. ‘Do you mean three of those triangles, or three whole rounds?’
Hugh said they could have four triangles and after that they must make do with mince pies, and because it was Hugh, they agreed. When Jemima said they were taking too many sandwiches, Tom replied that they needed enough for five, as Louise and Juliet were joining in the poker game. ‘Don’t stay up all night,’ Jemima said rather hopelessly: she knew that they would stay up just as long as they wanted to.
On their own, unencumbered by the young, people said what a lovely day it had been and how beautifully Rachel had arranged everything. They were clinging to the present, but some of them were finding it increasingly difficult to ward off bleak and anxious thoughts of the future. They were leaving the house that had been their home for so long. A few more days and it would be over. Nothing would be the same again.
Polly found it quite a relief when she had to go and put Spencer to bed. She found him with Nan in her bedroom and there was Nan choking back tears. ‘I don’t know where I am, my lady. Nothing to eat all day and a strange woman in my kitchen. I don’t think this is my home at all, you know, because my bed is facing the wrong way and I couldn’t do my crochet for the baby.’
Polly made Nan sit on the bed and explained that they would all be going home in a few days. Nan always cried when she forgot how to crochet, which was happening more and more often now.
‘When Spencer is settled, I’ll get you some Horlicks, and when you’re ready for bed we’ll do the crochet together. Look, Nan. Isn’t he sweet?’
Nan’s face had softened and she wiped her face with a Harrington square.
‘You had lunch, you know, with all of us in the dining room, and you gave Spencer a little bone to chew and he loved it. You’re so good with him, Nan. I don’t know what I should do without you.’
A spot of appreciation did the trick, and Polly could see her remembering.
In bed at last with Gerald – she had not gone back to the drawing room because it had taken her ages to get the Horlicks and then show Nan how to do her crochet – she said how good the family were being about their misfortune. ‘You have a wonderful family,’ he replied. ‘I really admire them. Particularly your aunt. Hugh was telling me what dire straits she’s in.’
‘I know. And nobody has enough money to help her.’
‘I was wondering if you’d like her to come and live with us.’
‘Oh, my darling, how good and kind you are! Oh, Gerald!’ She turned to him and he felt her warm tears on his face.
‘I’m pretty dull, though. You get that with people who mean well. It’s a real danger.’
She kissed him.
‘You see?’ he said, when she had finished. ‘You’ve been kissing me for years now, and I’ve not turned into a prince, just stayed a plain old frog.’
‘My own most interesting frog,’ she said. ‘Mind my breasts – they’re a bit sore.’
Of course, she’ll be hunting tomorrow, and won’t have another thought in her head, Teddy realised. His parting from Sabrina had not been happy, and he was almost relieved to be without her for a few days. The poker game had broken up with Roland winning. They had only been playing with matchsticks, but these were to be converted to cash when they finished the final game. Teddy had enjoyed the male camaraderie of it. Perhaps he could get a pilot’s licence and then an interesting job, even in Africa. Rather a thrilling idea.
‘He’ll be in bed now, but in the dressing room. He doesn’t share a room with her any more. He said that she’d asked him to go to bed with her twice during the last four years, and both times she got pregnant. He’ll have given her very expensive presents, though, and I expect she’ll have given him the same, and his sister will stay and it will be a nice family Christmas. Without me.’ Louise had returned the necklace to its box and put the box under her pillow. Juliet was already asleep.
Simon thought of his love – whooping it up in Glasgow, going to pubs, getting stoned, probably nipping into bed with someone if he fancied them. That hurt: he didn’t want to think about that. Better leave it that he – he was two years older, after all – had seriously fallen in love with somebody who was only just learning about love. He would be back in exactly seven days. Meanwhile, it felt good to be in the old house – especially if it was for the last time. The other, absolutely marvellous thing was that Aunt Rachel had given him the Duchy’s piano as his Christmas present. At first he’d thought that she wanted him to play her something – he had played when the family sang carols: ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’, ‘I Saw Three Ships’, and ‘The Holly and the Ivy’. Later, Laura had come up to him and asked what the holly bear was like. ‘I just thought I ought to know, in case he came suddenly out of a wood, or something.’ He’d explained about there not being a holly bear – to her great relief. ‘I only wondered.’
‘You said just the right things,’ Aunt Rachel had told him later.
And now it became clear that she was actually giving him this lovely old piano: a Blüthner drawing-room grand. It was old, but that meant it had the Schwander action, made in France before the factory had closed during the First World War. The felts needed pricking, but otherwise it was perfect. He tried to express his thanks, but it was so much the most amazing present he had ever had in his life that he became lost for words and ended up hugging her, screwing up his eyes to forestall tears. ‘I’m very glad,’ she said, ‘that it means so much to you. Your grandmother would have been so pleased.’
Rachel went to bed in a far more peaceful state of mind than she’d experienced the night before. They were a very close-knit family, and she was so grateful for that. It was true that they had not accepted Zoë at first, but gradually, during those long war years, she had become enfolded and welcomed, and the Duchy had always stood up for her. Perhaps, in time, Diana will become like that, she thought. Rachel was always optimistic about potential goodness.
Tomorrow, early, she would take dear little Harriet’s bunch of snowdrops to Sid’s grave. The thought that she might be forced to live many miles away in the future pierced her yet again, but she pushed the pain deeper into her heart.
Villy lay in the dark thinking how much better it was to be back with the family, and how Roland was enjoying his siblings and cousins. He seemed happy and she had noticed that his wretched acne – the bane of his life – was definitely better. The doctor she had taken him to had said that it would clear up in its own good time. She had no idea what he felt about meeting his father in the company of his new wife, but there was nothing she could do about it now, except to be calm and absolutely unemotional. Which she was determined to be.
‘Dearest Hugh, I will not have you worrying about Rachel. I would love her to stay with us as long as she’d like.’
‘That would be marvellous, but we simply haven’t got room, have we?’
‘Yes, we have. I’ve thought it through. Laura goes into your dressing room, the boys go into Laura’s room, and Rachel can have the boys’ room. You would have to dress and undress in front of me but I’m sure we could get over our embarrassment in time.’
‘I’m afraid it might be followed by a frenzy of lust. Darling Jem, it would be a load off my mind. I’m sure we could find her some little job to do – working for a charity, perhaps – so she wouldn’t be in your hair all day. Do you mean all this, darling? Have you really thought about it?’
‘Yes,’ she replied patiently. ‘I’ve really thought about it. Rachel has always been so very kind to me and the boys. She’s treated us as family from the first time we came here, and now I want to treat her as family back. Let’s go to sleep.’
‘Not quite yet.’
Roland, who had had a smashing day, waited till the others were settled and lights were out before he smeared his face with camomile lotion. Mum had said it would help, and the spots certainly didn’t seem quite so noticeable. She h
ad been wonderful. She had given him a cheque before Christmas so that he could buy the tools and equipment needed for an experiment he was doing with his friend. Others had given him book tokens, a squash racquet, and a very superior torch – and other things that he was too sleepy to remember. And tomorrow Dad was coming for a drink with That Woman, as Mum used to call her. He hated his father; he sometimes said this to himself to keep the hatred going. He’d ruined Mum’s life, and on the few occasions when they were together, they had nothing to say. The fatuous questions! ‘How are you getting on at school?’; ‘Looking forward to the holidays?’; ‘Made some good friends, have you?’ God! It made him sick. It was only for something to say – to get through the once-a-term hotel lunch he was taken out to. On one occasion he had brought Louise, the older sister he hardly knew, and she’d livened things up a bit, but she’d only come the once. Well, he was due to go up to Cambridge: he’d won a scholarship to Trinity next autumn, and he’d planned to get some sort of job before that to help Mum with the fees. The scholarship would only go so far, was not designed to cover everything, and his blasted father had indicated that he was unable to help. I really do hate him, Roland thought before he fell asleep. He’s not a proper father at all.
‘I think, after all, that I will come with you tomorrow. I don’t feel it’s fair for you to face them all on your own.’
‘Splendid.’ He spoke as heartily as he could manage. Far from being an escape, the drink at Home Place was going to be an ordeal. He had sold his guns and his cufflinks and this had provided him with some money to buy Christmas presents. Diana had done the rest. She had a small income of her own, derived from her Army widow’s pension, and the rent from a flat she’d inherited from her parents. She had jazzed up Christmas quite a bit on it, buying a large tree, and on Christmas Eve they had had a cocktail party for about twenty neighbours, who had drunk them clean out of vodka and gin. Edward hardly knew any of the guests, and spent most of what seemed a very long time going round and filling everyone’s glasses. He used to love parties and meeting people, but somehow he hadn’t the heart for it any more. The fact was that he’d got himself into a hell of a mess, and didn’t see how to get out of it. He had let it be known at his club that he was in the market for almost anything, but although several friends there had said they would bear him in mind, nothing had so far materialised. Early days, he said to himself, but his membership ran out in March and he would be unable to renew it.
Diana seemed to have put the future firmly out of her mind; she had been more upset when Jamie had said that he was going to spend the holiday with his grandparents and older brothers in Scotland. Comforting her about that had gone down very well – almost too well from his point of view as she had gone all out to seduce him in bed after the cocktail party. In the end, he’d managed to make enough love to satisfy her, and she’d whispered to him that, with their mutual love, nothing else mattered.
So when, on Boxing Day morning, she said she was coming with him, he wasn’t surprised but warned her that Home Place was freezing compared to their house, ‘So wrap up, darling.’ He was terrified that she would choose some revealing attire but, no, she put on a navy blue jersey dress with a polo collar, and a pair of sapphire and diamond earrings he had given her long before their marriage. This, with an old squirrel-fur jacket, completed her outfit.
‘How do I look?’
‘Perfect, as always.’
Hugh met them at the front door, and Diana presented her cheek to be kissed. ‘Such a long time since we met. Happy Christmas!’
Hugh touched his brother on the shoulder in greeting, then Waited while Diana got out of her jacket.
Most of the family were already assembled in the drawing room, Villy on a sofa with Roland standing behind her. Rachel was sitting in an armchair near the fire, but got up to kiss Edward and then to greet Diana when they came in. Rupert and Teddy were serving drinks; Clary was on her knees helping Harriet transfer her half-done jigsaw to a large tray, ‘Then you can do it anywhere, but not here,’ she was saying. Simon was stoking the fire, and Gerald had been talking to Rachel. When Polly came in bearing a tray with canapés he introduced her proudly to Diana: ‘This is my wife, Polly.’
‘Yes,’ Harriet said crossly. ‘And they’ve got a boy called Lord Holt. He’s not very nice, actually.’
Clary said, ‘Shut up, Harriet! That’s not at all a kind thing to say.’
‘I only mean he’s very unpopular with us. There may be people in the world who would love him, but I doubt it.’
‘I love him,’ Gerald said.
‘That’s different. Fathers have to love their sons.’
‘Not necessarily.’
Everybody looked at Roland then, who blushed scarlet but continued to stare pointedly at Edward. Villy put a hand on his elbow as though to check him, but he – gently – shook her off.
Edward and Diana, drinks in hand, now advanced towards Villy. Edward introduced them while everybody tried to take no notice. Diana saw a small, rather faded woman, unexpectedly well dressed, whose heavy dark eyebrows contrasted dramatically with her nearly white hair. It was pulled back severely from her face and secured with a large black bow.
‘Hello, Villy, my dear. You do look well. This is Diana.’
Villy saw a tall woman wearing a dress that was a size too small for her, and a great deal of make-up. She had large, rather ugly hands encrusted with rings. ‘How do you do? I believe we met once before – during the war.’
‘Oh, yes! Ages ago. I’d almost forgotten. And is this your son? He looks almost the age of my – our – Jamie.’
This was intended to wound, Villy knew, and the most irritating response was to show the opposite. So she smiled. ‘We all had babies in those days,’ she said. ‘I suppose it was to make up for all the poor young men who were getting killed. Don’t you think?’
‘Hello, Roland, old boy.’ Edward was getting unnerved by Roland’s stony stare.
‘Before you ask me some fatuous question about school, I’d like to tell you now that it was a beastly place. For the first year a gang of older boys used to bully me, tie me in a bath, turn on the cold tap and leave. And I never knew whether they’d come back before I drowned. One of their little escapades – just for the record,’ he ended bitterly.
‘How dreadful!’ Diana exclaimed. ‘I don’t think they did that sort of thing at Eton. Jamie went to Eton, like his brothers.’
Archie quickly came to the rescue: ‘You need a top-up, Diana, and you, too, Edward. Roland, get your mother a drink.’
Roland took his mother’s glass from her trembling hands (the bath story was news to her) and collided with Archie at the drinks table. ‘No more of that,’ Archie said to him sternly. ‘You’ll upset your mother. It’s only a drink, and they’ll be gone before lunch, so show a little more of the white flag. You could try feeling a bit sorry for your father, you know,’ he added gently.
‘Could I?’ The idea seemed incredible.
Gerald had diplomatically enticed Diana to the far side of the room to show her the snowmen and talk about gardens.
Louise and Juliet, who had decided to try the drinks on offer, eyed Diana with mild contempt. ‘I met her once before they were wed, at Dad’s club. I never for one moment thought he’d marry her.’
‘She doesn’t know the first thing about make-up,’ Juliet said. ‘Her face is like a dog biscuit, and look at that awful lipstick!’
‘Older women tend to overdo the make-up. It’s something to watch out for when you get older,’ Louise informed her. But Juliet felt she was unlikely to get as old as that and, anyway, she knew.
Sounds from outside indicated that the children were getting fretful and hungry; then Nan appeared in the doorway, clearly distressed.
‘Oh, your lordship, his lordship’s playing up something awful. He’s broken some of the twins’ toys and they went for him and that palaver upset everyone.’
Polly stopped talking to Clary and went over to co
mfort her. ‘Gerald, I think you’d better deal with Andrew.’
And Gerald, who had found in Diana’s remarks the all-too-usual blend of competitive showing off, was grateful for an excuse to go.
He left her triumphant: her garden was not only larger, but contained plants that he had either failed to grow or had never even heard of. She was on her third cocktail by now, and was taking in the shabbiness of the room; it really looked as though nothing had been done to it for years. She glanced about for Edward, and saw him talking to Villy (again!), standing next to two very pretty girls: Louise, whom he kept maddeningly describing as his second favourite woman, and a younger girl of startling beauty, who reminded her of Vivien Leigh.
She worked her way towards them, but her heel got caught in a rent in the carpet, and if Rupert hadn’t been close enough to seize her arm, she would have fallen over. Rachel rose from her chair to apologise.
‘Don’t bother. I’m sure it was my fault.’ She was seething with humiliation. As Diana reached them, she heard Villy saying, ‘Do you remember that Christmas when Edward put the wrong stockings on Teddy and Lydia’s beds? The outcry!’
‘Until you rushed in and put it right.’ Edward was smiling. ‘Always quick off the mark, your mother was.’
‘Edward, I’m afraid it’s time to go. Susan will be frantic for her lunch.’
‘Right you are.’ He picked up Louise’s hand and kissed it, then Juliet’s too. He saw Villy watching him, and smiled affectionately. ‘Goodbye, ol’ boy,’ he said to Roland, who made no response. Diana stopped at the open door of the drawing room, as Hugh and Jemima saw them out. ‘It’s been so nice to see you all.’
In the car, she exclaimed, ‘Phew! Glad that’s over! It’s a pity Roland was so rude to you. And that disgusting story about his school. Quite out of place, I thought. I suppose he’s spoilt.’
‘Poor chap, I haven’t been much of a father to him.’
‘I’ve never stopped you seeing him.’
The Cazalet Chronicles Collection Page 242