‘There’s not the slightest need to abuse Alison. She’s not cheap, and I don’t know what on earth you have against her.’
‘Have I to listen to another recital of Alison’s virtues? If you think so much of her, hadn’t you better-’
‘Damn it all, Rosalie!’ He evidently lost his temper completely at that point. ‘I’ve told you again and again- the girl’s nothing whatever to me. I don’t care two pins about her. She’s a nice child, of course, but just a little relation of yours. I should think no more of taking her out motoring than I should of taking Audrey to the Zoo.’
There was a faint cracking sound as Alison slowly crushed in the cap of her fountain-pen, which she had quite unknowingly picked up.
She was only hearing what she already knew, of course, but to have it put into words, driven home with the force of Julian’s angry indifference-that was something rather different.
If only she had made her presence known before they had got as far as this! It was unspeakable of her to be listening to anything so entirely personal. Yet to interrupt now would be worst of all.
To add to her misery, she was terribly cramped. Very cautiously she moved her stiff, aching knee. One inch. Two inches. And then her forgotten writing-case slid to the ground with a loud thump.
There were two startled exclamations, a moment of stupefied silence, and then Alison did the only thing left to do-she pushed aside the curtain and came out into the open.
Julian stared at her, something like dislike mingling with his astonishment. Rosalie said calmly, ‘Next time you are cataloguing Alison’s virtues, don’t forget to mention eavesdropping.’
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, Alison?’ Julian’s voice was harsh with annoyance.
‘I’m sorry-I fell asleep there-behind the curtain.’
Rosalie laughed and made an expressive little grimace.
‘It’s quite true.’ Alison spoke doggedly. ‘I didn’t wake up until you-you’d said quite a lot.’
‘Which you heard in your sleep, I suppose?’ Rosalie said drily.
‘Oh, be quiet, Rosalie,’ Julian exclaimed impatiently. ‘There’s no need to doubt what the child says.’ But, whether he believed her or not, Alison could see that he wished her at the other end of the earth. ‘It was stupid of you not to interrupt at once,’ he added sharply.
It was, of course. Impossible to explain her bewildered hesitation which had made her let the minutes slip by. But, in any case, there was no need to treat her like some silly little girl. She put up her chin suddenly with a proud little gesture, and her mouth looked very obstinate.
‘Perhaps it was just as well I did hear what you were saying,’ she told them shortly. It concerns me as well as you, after all. If Rosalie wants any reassuring-’
‘She doesn’t,’ Julian said coldly. ‘Rosalie is now perfectly satisfied about my motives.’
‘Oh, I don’t think I need worry about your motives anymore, Julian,’ Rosalie observed coolly. ‘Perhaps I ought to look elsewhere for the source of trouble.’
‘For God’s sake, Rosalie-’ began Julian, evidently in the last stages of exasperation.
But Alison interrupted furiously.
‘Just what do you mean?’ She faced her cousin, her eyes bright with anger.
‘Julian has assured me most convincingly that he has no interest whatever in you.’ Rosalie mustn’t detect the slightest quiver on her face. ‘I should like to be as sure that you have no interest in him.’
‘Rosalie, are you crazy?’ That was Julian. But neither girl took the slightest notice of him.
Alison spoke into the electric-charged silence.
‘It’s ridiculous that I should even have to say it. I have no interest whatever in Ju-in Mr. Tyndrum. Perhaps that will satisfy you.’
Then she pushed past Rosalie and ran out of the room, her breath coming in little gasps, and her heart-beats nearly choking her.
This was the worst of all. Oh, much the worst! He could never think of her now without distaste and alarm. For he loved Rosalie so blindly, and held her so insecurely, that he was bound to fear anything that threatened his hopes.
And then her own denial. She felt an almost superstitious dread when she thought of that.
Flinging herself face downwards on her bed, she lay there for a long while, almost motionless. And she thought, as she had that time she believed he had played with. her-’I never want to see him again.’
But she meant it no more now than she had then.
She couldn’t tell whether Rosalie said anything to her mother about. what had happened. Aunt Lydia ’s manner was always difficult to read at the best of times. But the fact remained that the following day she said:
‘Alison, my dear, I’ve been thinking it is time you had a breath of sea air. You’ve been in town quite long enough.’ Alison couldn’t help thinking in her turn how very little that fact had disturbed Aunt Lydia up till now. But she tried to look attentive as her aunt went on: ‘I am arranging that the twins shall go straight from school to their old Nannie in Sussex. She has a very lovely cottage on the coast there, and they often spend part of their holidays with her. It will be ideal for you too, and I know how you will enjoy it.’
‘Thank you, Aunt Lydia,’ Alison said dutifully. Then, quite involuntarily, she added, ‘Oh, poor Audrey won’t see Lucifer now.’ But she really thought, ‘And nor shall I see Julian.’
‘Lucifer?’ Her aunt laughed slightly. ‘Don’t be silly. Lucifer will still be here when you all come home.’
‘And so will Julian,’ thought Alison. But that wouldn’t be any business of hers, of course.
She travelled down to Sussex the next day-’so that you’ll be there when the twins arrive,’ Aunt Lydia said. Alison couldn’t see much reason for this quite extraordinary haste, and wondered again if Rosalie had told her mother anything.
But perhaps, in any case, the nicest thing at the moment was to be right away from the whole miserable business.
The twins’ one-time Nannie was a kindly, practical woman, and she said at once that what Alison needed was ‘building. up’. And after a quiet day or two of complete rest and constant care Alison felt more than ready to welcome Theo and Audrey.
They arrived by the same train, laden with luggage, news, and holiday plans.
Audrey gave Alison an entirely unexpected kiss, and Theo, too, seemed very pleased to see her. The world began to look a much pleasanter place at once, for Alison was immediately aware of the fact that the twins had a very definite place for her in their holiday scheme.
Alison found their uncompromising ways very refreshing. More than once in the weeks they spent down there together she looked at them and thought, ‘Are they really Aunt Lydia ’s children?’
It didn’t seem possible that such an insincere and artificial person could have produced anything so downright as Audrey.
‘It must be Uncle Theodore coming out in them,’ she decided amusedly, and her opinion of her uncle went up accordingly.
From time to time Aunt Lydia wrote, sometimes at considerable length, and nearly always about nothing at all. She and Rosalie were paying a round of visits. She spoke of it a little as though it were forced manual labour. But, since she had no wishes but her own to consult in the matter, Alison felt there must be compensations somewhere.
Uncle Theodore, rather to her surprise, wrote regularly once a week to the twins, and very often included a formal but kindly message to herself.
‘He’s quite a good sport really,’ remarked Audrey tolerantly, when she. had read out extracts from one of his letters. ‘I’m sorry we shan’t see him when we go home next week.’
‘Not see him? Won’t you really, Audrey?’ Alison felt sorry for them, but they took it with the rather terrifying callousness of children.
‘No.’ Audrey shook her head. ‘You see, it’ll be September already when we get home, and we go back to school on the twelfth. Still, he says we shall be home for a day or two for Ros
alie’s wedding at the end of October. So we shall see him then.’
‘Must we go to Rosalie’s wedding?’ asked Theo gloomily.
And at the same moment Alison said sharply, ‘October? Is Rosalie getting married in October?’
‘So Daddy says in the letter.’ Audrey evidently hadn’t thought it worthy of mention before.
Alison strolled over to the window and stood there staring out. But she saw nothing of the sea and sky beyond the cottage garden.
It was just a matter of weeks now.
Towards the end of the following week they all three returned to London. Alison half envied Audrey her rapturous reunion with Lucifer, and thought whimsically, ‘Lucky child. Her separation is over.’
There were a great many things to be done before the twins returned to school, and Alison had a busy ten days, shopping, arranging, and packing for them.
‘And after this there’ll be the rush for Rosalie’s wedding. You will be busy,’ Audrey said. I do hope she won’t want me to be a bridesmaid.’
‘She won’t,’ said Theo. "You aren’t pretty enough.’
‘No, I expect that’s what she’ll think,’ agreed Audrey, quite unoffended. ‘Anyway, she knows I’d only stand on her train or something as she went up the aisle.’
Alison said nothing. She was thinking of Julian waiting there for Rosalie as she went up the aisle.
She was scared to find herself counting each day as it slipped away.
When she said good-bye to the twins she thought, ‘Next time I see them they will be here for Julian’s wedding.’
When her uncle returned a few days later, she thought, ‘There will scarcely be much time for him to go away again before Rosalie’s wedding.’
Rosalie herself was scarcely ever in the house. Alison supposed she was visiting, or else that she was out with Julian.
Then one evening her uncle said at dinner, ‘Does Rosalie still consider that she is living in this house? She never seems to be here.’
‘She naturally wants to get all the fun she can before she leaves London,’ Aunt Lydia retorted coolly.
‘Fun!’ Her husband laughed shortly. ‘How does Julian take to all this-fun?’
Aunt Lydia ignored his question, as she frequently did when he said anything she disliked.
‘Is she out with Julian to-night?’
‘No. With Rodney Myrton.’
Uncle Theodore frowned. ‘Who on earth is this Rodney Myrton? It isn’t the first time she’s been out with him. And what’s Julian got to say about her running around with another man five weeks before her wedding-day?’
‘I haven’t discussed it with Julian,’ said Aunt Lydia, taking the second question first. Then she added, ‘Rodney Myrton is extremely attractive-plenty of money-and only two people between him and the title. One is an old man, and the other seems determined to kill himself on the racing track. She met Rodney in Scotland this summer. You’ll probably see him at her birthday dance next week.’
‘Do you mean to tell me,’ began her husband, ‘that you’re more than half advising Rosalie-’
‘I never advise Rosalie,’ Aunt Lydia said coldly.
Just for a moment Alison thought there was going to be something of an explosion. Then, quite unexpectedly, her uncle turned to her, his usual calm completely restored.
‘And are you going to have a new dress for the dance, Alison?’ he asked.
‘I-I don’t think so,’ Alison said, extremely surprised.
Well, do you want one?’ Her uncle looked amused.
‘Alison already has quite a nice evening frock,’ Aunt Lydia said.
‘A new one?’
‘Not exactly,’ Alison admitted.
Her uncle took out his note-case and coolly handed her four five-pound notes.
‘Then get yourself one.’
‘Uncle!’ Alison sprang up and kissed him impulsively. ‘How simply wonderful of you!’
‘She doesn’t really need it,’ Aunt Lydia remarked.
But her husband only replied drily, ‘Well, I’ve never known Rosalie need a dress enough to kiss me for paying the bill.’
It was impossible to consult Aunt Lydia about the buying of the dress, and so Alison had the full delicious responsibility on her own shoulders. But, strangely enough, she knew which dress she wanted the first moment she saw it.
Softest, shimmering amber chiffon over satin, like sunlight seen through a glass of sherry-with a tiny yoke and sleeves, its full skirts swirling just to her knees.
As she slipped into it, she knew that no other dress would ever do. It had about it that odd, sweet whisper of Victorian days-but no one, not even Rosalie, could say this dress resembled a nightdress.
Distinctly and quite shamelessly, she thought, ‘I want Julian to see me in this.’
And Julian, of course, would be at Rosalie’s birthday dance.
When she came down on the night of the dance, Alison thought that surely Aunt Lydia must say a word of approval.
But Aunt Lydia had no eyes for her young niece. She was standing talking to Rosalie, and her face wore an expression as near to consternation as any Alison had seen there.
‘You can’t do it this way, Rosalie,’ she was saying. ‘You can’t possibly.’
But Rosalie, almost insolently lovely in a gown of silvery white, seemed to think she could-whatever it was.
‘He turned the laugh against me at one dance, Mother. I haven’t forgotten that. To-night it’s he they’ll find amusing.’
‘Your father will be terribly angry.’ Aunt Lydia didn’t offer that as though she thought it would have much effect.
It had none.
Rosalie merely replied indifferently, ‘He’s not my father.’
Alison wondered what Rosalie had been doing now, but the murmur of arriving guests prevented any questions, even if she had dared to ask any.
She looked curiously at her cousin, taking in every line of her. Her beautiful burnished hair in its careless curls, the lovely set of her head and shoulders, the perfect line of her figure, her delicate hands-
And suddenly Alison’s eyes nearly started from her head.
On Rosalie’s left hand, where Julian’s diamond should have sparkled, a magnificent ruby hung, like a drop of blood.
For a moment her mind went completely blank. And then, with a shock of horror much worse than the first, she realised that Julian was greeting her slightly agitated aunt. Julian-smiling, cool, utterly unprepared for what was to happen in the next few minutes.
‘Julian!’ She was beside him, unaware that she had called him by his Christian name.
But in the same second Rosalie said ‘Julian’ too. And he turned to her first.
‘I must speak to you for a moment.’ Rosalie was perfectly calm. She put her hand on his arm. Her left hand.
Alison saw his gaze drop to that ruby.
And then, suddenly, unable to bear the rest, she pushed her way, unheeding, through the crowd of early arrivals- out into the hall. Scarcely knowing what she did, she ran up the stairs and along to her room. She was possessed by a sort of unreasoning panic, as though she had seen someone run over in the street, and must get as far as possible away from the scene.
Up and down her little bedroom she walked. She had often fled here, wretched, lonely, oppressed by her own misery; but now no thought of herself came near her mind. It was Julian, Julian-and the heartbreak and humiliation he must be suffering.
She could visualise that scene downstairs with Rosalie, for no one knew better than Alison how cruel her cousin could be when her spite was roused.
And Julian would be so bewildered, so utterly unprepared and unarmed against such a terrible attack. Rosalie would force him to show his feelings, to give himself away in a manner he would never forget And she would be amused and triumphant because she had contrived to humiliate him.
It wasn’t as though any of the others would have a grain of sympathy either. They too would find it thoroughly amusing and piquant to
break off an engagement this way.
Aunt Lydia herself might have been shocked in the first moment of learning Rosalie’s intention, but her consternation was not prompted by any feeling of sympathy for Julian. She was merely concerned in case Rosalie should go too far and incur the disapproval of anyone who mattered.
He would be surrounded by enemies, enemies who were all the more bitter because they smiled. And there would be no one to appreciate his feelings or care in the least. No one, that was, except herself.
Suddenly Alison was brought up short.
She shouldn’t be up there, panicking in a corner like some ridiculous child. There was nothing she could do for him-nothing at all. But at least she ought to be there, to stand by him in some way-if only by just being there. She must go now, at once.
Down the stairs she ran, almost as quickly as she had fled up them, and, as she hesitated on the bottom step he came out of her aunt’s little study.
He looked white and extremely bewildered, and one lock of his dark hair seemed inclined to fall damply over his forehead. For a moment he stared at Alison as though he. didn’t see her. Then he crossed the hall in two or three strides.
‘Alison-’ His hand closed on her bare arm painfully.
‘Yes, I know.’ Alison spoke very gently, and put her hand lightly over his.
‘Come into the library,’ he said abruptly. ‘I must talk to you-to someone.’
She came without a word. She wondered if he knew he was still gripping her arm.
‘You know about it? What Rosalie has done?’ He spoke in little, staccato sentences.
‘Yes.’
‘But I don’t understand.’ He passed his hand bewilderedly over his eyes. ‘What have I done?’
‘I’m afraid-I’m afraid, Julian, it’s just that she wants someone else.’
‘Yes, yes.’ He spoke with weary impatience. ‘I understand that I can’t bear it, but I can understand it. Only this-this unspeakable humiliation. To tell me-almost in front of those people. To wear another man’s ring before I knew she’d taken off mine. How could she?’
‘I don’t know,’ Alison whispered, feeling terribly inadequate.
Nobody Asked Me Page 7