Too much booze before lunch and then having to play follow the leader with Vanessa. Vanessa trying to pin you down, sticking a hatpin through your guts as if you were a dead butterfly she wanted for her collection. And now the boy. This white-faced little boy of yours, scared stiff of you, answering your idiotic questions with those sissy-polite manners she’s taught him. ‘Yes, thank you,’ ‘All right, thank you.’ Anyway, you don’t know what to ask him, you don’t know what to say. Christ, what a situation. Why did you ever come? What can you do? What can you say to him? ‘I’m Daddy. Your mum and me decided to have you’? He’d probably say, ‘Thank you.’ Not Sin’s kid! She’d blow her bloody top if she could see what they’re doing to him. What you’ve let them do.
‘Logan, don’t take up all the bed. Leave some for us.’
No, don’t think about that now. And don’t sit there clearing your throat. Say something to him.
‘Logan, are you asleep?’
No, no. But turning now in bed, holding her. ‘Well, how do you do. How are you?’
‘Nicely, thank you. Have we met?’
‘I don’t think we were formally introduced but you’re nice.’
‘So are you.’
‘But, listen, you couldn’t be us yet.’
‘Oh, yes I can. Am.’
‘In four days?’
‘I’m cosmic. Or is it clairvoyant?’
‘Oh, you are. Well, if you’re absolutely sure, my girl, then I s’pose that’s all you want of me. I’ll get up and go now. Where’s my hat and spats?’
‘Don’t you dare move. In fact, don’t you dare move further away from me for the next forty-six years.’
‘I better make a note of that.’
‘Just a brief note will do. “I promise to stay in bed with Sinden for forty-six years. Signed, L. Marriott.” ’
‘Bit awkward for the hotel.’
‘Oh, no. They’ll advertise us as the longest-staying honeymoon couple in history. Occasionally we’ll appear on the balcony and wave to the crowds.’
‘OK. Later we’ll go on tour.’
‘With our enormous brood.’
‘Your writing may suffer.’
‘But it was for The Cause.’
‘Right. And The Cause comes first. Where’s the pillow? Oh, on the floor as usual. Here, lift your head a minute. That better?’
‘Mmmmmm. Bliss. Everything’s bliss.’
‘Both of you more comfortable?’
‘Yes, thanks. He’s fine.’
‘Oh, it’s him, is it?’
‘Has to be. I’m concentrating on fearfully masculine things like shaving brushes and football boots with spikes—ummmmm—brier pipes and dynamos, heavyweight champions and that statue of Laocoön.’
‘Who was he when he was at home?’
‘Don’t know but it’s a huge mass of great muscular men and serpents.’
‘That ought to do the trick.’
‘I think so, darling.’
‘Well, keep working away at it.’
‘I thought I would.’
‘Have you decided what he’s going to be like?’
‘Absolutely. Fat. Noisy and rude. Not nasty rude—cheeky. Full of spit and fight, running through the house upsetting tables and yelling for bread and jam, driving us dotty putting goannas and toads in our bed, not scared of anything. Like all the Marriott boys, with a touch of Vere for fun. A bit serious sometimes and then, like you, bursting out laughing at the whole solemn world because it’s so absurd. And turning up in some girl’s life one day out of the blue because he’s just like you, darling, a blue-sky gentleman like you. Oh, on the whole I think he won’t be too bad. He won’t be dull or pompous or dreary. I think he’ll bring some light with him wherever he goes. As a matter of fact, thank you very much for him. I think maybe I’ll kiss you for him …’
Oh, my God, Sin, he’s here beside me and I don’t know what the hell to say to him! Too much booze. I’m sorry, Sin. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. So sorry I didn’t come back. And after you went there wasn’t any bloody point to anything. Oh, God, I’m going to blub in a minute. Jesus, don’t let me blub in front of the kid!
Where was Vanessa? It seemed as if they were going to sit there all day, looking at his train. Then Logan started to make strange noises and he saw to his horror that Logan had begun to cry; felt his face go fiery red with the awful embarrassment of it; quickly turned off the train and got up and went over to the washstand where his boats stood in a neat orderly line and picked up his big yacht with the sails which had never yet been in the water and all the time the sound of crying went on behind him. Once a long time ago he had found George standing behind the loquat tree crying and he had run and put his arms around George’s knees and in a minute George had stopped crying and patted him and called him ‘Old Feller’ and made a joke about onions getting in his eyes. But he couldn’t run to Logan. He couldn’t touch Logan because they didn’t know each other and Logan might snatch him up and run out of the house with him. But Vanessa would know what to do. He started out of the room to call out to her but Logan said, ‘Wait a minute,’ blew his nose loudly and said, ‘Sorry, chum. All over now. All over.’ Then got stiffly up from the floor repeating. ‘All over, all over.’
‘Don’t be frightened,’ said Logan. ‘I’m not,’ he said, lying. ‘No, don’t you be,’ said Logan. ‘Don’t you be frightened of anything. Your mother never was. She wouldn’t want you to be. Don’t you let them frighten you and don’t let them just push you around, see? You do what you want to do, see?’ That was a new idea, doing what you wanted to, but how? They always told you what to do, what to wear, where to live, everything. He wanted to say this out loud but no words came. Looked at his yacht.
‘They look after you because I can’t,’ said Logan as if he had heard. ‘But if they try to make you do something you hate, you bellyache and yell, see? You yell loud as you can and make a fuss. Understand?’
Imagine yelling at Vanessa and refusing to do something! Logan certainly didn’t understand anything. Just the same it was a rather thrilling thought and he looked at Logan admiringly. Maybe Logan wasn’t too awful, after all.
‘Now listen,’ said Logan. ‘I’ll tell you a secret. She wants to take you away.’
So this was the Thing! Not Logan at all, but Vanessa.
Today? Where? He was feeling sick. ‘Where?’
‘England,’ said Logan.
England! That was as far as the moon. He couldn’t get home on Fridays from England! He’d never get home again!
‘A long way away,’ said Logan. ‘Until you’re grown up.’
Grown up! That would mean years and years. He couldn’t take it in, even. He looked at Logan, speechless.
Again Logan seemed to understand because he leaned down and said quietly, ‘Would you want to? Would you like to go?’
He shook his head, then again.
‘I didn’t think so,’ said Logan. ‘Well, don’t worry, chum. I’ll fix her!’ He laughed, seemed pleased all of a sudden. ‘I’ll cook her little goose for her. You see, that’s one thing I can do. One thing I can do for you! It’s not much in seven years but it’s something. You’ll have to go on living with her here because I bloody well bungled that. But I won’t let her take you away and turn you into a flaming Pommy. So don’t you worry!’ Logan winked.
So Logan was his friend after all. He wanted to say something. Thank you or something. Ask him about gold and Dear One and why they were away in that hotel by the river with the jellyfish. What happened there?
Logan had saved him and it was like being let out of school, like seeing Lila come up the drive on Fridays, feeling safe. He was so relieved, he felt almost happy and now questions came to him quickly. Where was Bacchus Marsh? Why did Logan live there and not here? Did he still belong to Logan and if so was it all right now to tell everyone that he had a father? What really happened to Dear One? And was it really his fault? What to ask first? Quickly, before Vanessa came back, because now
he didn’t want her to come back. Now he wanted to stay here with Logan all day and maybe even sit on his knee and talk and talk and he would tell Logan all about everything and how he felt and how he loved Lila and George best but—
But then Logan picked him suddenly up and held him tightly, kissed him hard on the mouth, put him down and went quickly out of the room.
‘Don’t go,’ he said, but it was too late for Logan was already halfway down the stairs, running now, escaping.
He ran to the stairs himself, started down, but then saw Vanessa come through the green baize door into the hall and before he could take a step angry words had begun. Very angry but not loud enough to hear everything they said. He stuck his head through the stairway railings and looked down. Logan was moving around a lot, waving his arms, and Vanessa was standing very straight and still the way she did when she gave strict orders. Muffled by the sound of the heavy rain on the glass skylight above him, their voices sounded like barking dogs. On and on it went, stopped, went on again, rising and falling until it seemed that the house was shaking, not with the wind outside but from the angry things they were saying to each other with words he couldn’t understand even when they flew up to him. Below, he could see the top of Diana’s white cap half hidden behind the green door where she was also listening. Then suddenly, Vanessa tried to pull Logan into the drawing room but he shook her off and laughed but in a jeering sort of way, and still laughing, he walked away from her to the front door and opened it and rain and leaves blew in, the pictures on the wall shook in fright and Vanessa too seemed frightened because she ran to Logan and took hold of him with both her hands and held on to him but he pushed her away and went off into the rain while she called after him and went on calling for as long as it must have taken Logan to go down the driveway and slam the gate. Then she closed the door and suddenly it was quiet in the house with only the drumming of the rain.
Vanessa stood looking down at the floor. He could not tell if she was crying because he could only see the top of her head and the sharp white parting in her red hair. Then she looked up and he saw that she was not crying and that she had noticed him. For a long time they looked up and down at each other but Vanessa’s face was blank as if she had never seen him before in her life. Then she started up the stairs, moving very fast up to him, and her face as it came nearer was very white but there were big red splotches on her neck. She looked different.
‘Were you listening, PS?’ Even her voice was different, squeaky. ‘Come on.’ She prodded him towards his room where, forgetting her own rules, she sat on the bed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It won’t happen again. He’s gone now, so don’t be frightened. As far as I’m concerned, you’ll never see him again. He is an awful man. Awful. A beastly man, PS. He has always tried to hurt me. Long before you were born he tried to hurt me. I’m glad you saw today how terrible he is. Because now you can be grateful that you escaped all that. That’s what it would have been like all the time if your mother had lived because your father is a bad man.’ Funnily enough, it sounded like a bedtime story: Once upon a time there was a bad father and a good mother and a little boy and they all lived—
‘All the time,’ she repeated, ‘Isn’t it a good thing she died? Aren’t you glad you have me to protect you from him and take care of you? Mmmmm?’
She was talking as if he were a baby and this was unlike her. She lay down on his bed and closed her eyes.
‘Come here,’ she said. ‘Put your arms round me and comfort me. Give me a nice kiss.’
When he didn’t move, she reached out and took him to her, making room on the bed, placing his arms around her neck and squeezing him tightly.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘Logan can’t get you because you belong to me. In fact, we belong to each other. Oh, listen, I have great plans and Logan is not going to stand in the way of them. So don’t you worry, my dearest, my angel.’ She kissed him all over his face. ‘It’s going to be simply splendid and think how nice it will be when you grow up and leave school—all the things we’ll do together when you’re a grownup man. Just think how nice it will be for me too. I’ll have a man to take me to the theatre and the opera and—’
Where? In England? Grown up and with her?
‘No,’ he said.
What did Logan say? Bellyache? Yell?
‘No,’ he shouted, pushing her away very hard, scrambling off the bed, away from her and those kisses. ‘No, I won’t go.’
Vanessa sat up, her hair untidily falling down and one of her eyelids twitching a little.
‘What?’
‘I won’t go,’ he shouted again.
‘What did Logan tell you?’
‘I won’t go anywhere with you.’
‘Did he tell you to say that?’
‘No.’
‘Did he tell you—’
‘I won’t go away on that boat. I’ll—I’ll get the police.’
‘I don’t awfully like that tone of voice.’
‘I will, I will.’
‘We’re not going on a boat—yet. But if we were I rather think that you would do as you’re told.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Stop that, please.’
‘I won’t stop it.’
‘You would prefer a smack?’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Listen, I’ve been hurt enough this morning without this kind of behaviour from you.’
‘I won’t go away from Lila and George.’
For a moment she sat very still, her eyelid twitching.
‘Did you tell Logan that?’
‘No.’
‘Yes you did. I know you did. You told Logan you’d rather live with Lila, didn’t you?’
She took hold of him, shook him. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘My God, you’re just like him. As bad as he.’
‘He’s not bad. He’s not.’
‘Sit in that chair, please. We are going to have a talk.’
‘No.’
‘Sit in that chair!’
He felt the slap, saw her white face very close, her eyes like two green fires.
Then he ran out of the room, caught a glimpse of Diana crouching halfway up the stairs and holding her hands up as though she was praying. He hesitated just for a moment and then ran into the bathroom, slammed the door and turned the key. He heard Vanessa’s footsteps, saw the doorknob turn and heard her sharp rapping.
‘Go away,’ he shouted.
He heard Vanessa’s angry voice and Diana wailing, then Vanessa barking at her and Diana shouting something back. Then nothing but Vanessa’s high heels going to and fro across the hall, going in and out of rooms. Once she came to the door and called out, ‘Having a good time in there?’
‘Go away,’ he said, quieter this time. ‘Shut up,’ he said.
He heard her move away. Heard her lock the spare room. A little later she came to the door again and tapped lightly on it.
‘I think I know who’ll get tired of this first,’ she called. Then he heard her footsteps moving away and going downstairs. There was silence now except for the rain and he felt wonderful. He could do anything. Anything he liked. He sat on the toilet and thought about what to do next. He put the plug in the bath and turned on the cold water tap, letting the big bathtub fill almost to the top. Then he floated the soap holder for a while. The most wonderful thing of all was being bad. Just like she had said he was. Well, he would show her just how bad he could be. He felt the excitement coming back again, thought how he would scream and yell at her, refuse to go to bed, refuse to eat, kick and scream. He would be all the things he’d always wanted to be. He would show her. Cook her goose for her. He wished now that he’d thought of doing it a long time ago. He would be so bad and wicked that she would no longer want him. She’d send him home for good because she couldn’t stand him any more.
He was delighted with the thought. He looked around the bathroom to see what bad thing
he could do next. There wasn’t very much bad you could do in a bathroom. He climbed on the chair and opened the cabinet over the basin. There were a lot of Vanessa’s things in there. Bottles and boxes of powder and something she put under her arms, sprays, orange sticks, her nail scissors, tweezers, bath salts, toothpaste, a bottle of pink gargle, a nailbrush, lots of things. He took them carefully out one by one and put them on the floor. Then he climbed on the toilet seat and managed to open the window. It took quite a long while to throw them all out the window and by the time he had finished he was wet through from the rain blowing in, and feeling a bit tired. Hungry too. He closed the window and sat down on the toilet again. He heard the hall clock whir and strike two. No one came. The house was silent as midnight. Even the rain had begun to stop. Could Vanessa have gone out? Escaped? Where was Cousin Ettie all this time? Didn’t they even want to go to the toilet? But then he remembered the guest lavatory downstairs. What if they decided just to let him stay in the bathroom? How long could he stay? It was two days until Friday. Would a person starve to death? He began to feel a bit frightened. Suppose they had all gone away and left him alone in the house to punish him? Well, there was the phone. But then he remembered that Lila’s phone was cut off and he didn’t know the number of Miss Gulf’s house, where they took the messages. He tiptoed to the door and listened. He felt his heart beating quickly now and knew that he really was frightened. Perhaps it wasn’t a good thing to be all this bad at once, not all at once, but more spread out so that you at least got fed. After all, there were two whole days of this week left to be wicked in. Yes, perhaps that would be better. Tomorrow he would refuse to go to dancing class or better still go and be very rude when he got there, stick his tongue out at Miss McDonald, the teacher, and hit Cynthia Lawson quite hard in her belly. That’s what he would do. But for now … He was about to turn the key when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and then across the hall towards the door. Vanessa’s feet. Something was put down on the floor outside and then she knocked and called out:
Careful, He Might Hear You Page 21