An Accidental Man (57 page)

‘A holiday?' said Matthew. ‘What from?'

‘Oh I don't know. All one's monied friends run off at this time of year. I supposed you might be thinking of Scotland or a trip to the Med.'

‘No.'

‘You're looking tired. I'm sure you need a change of air.'

‘In fact I've been idling.'

‘I daresay that's what's tired you. Why don't you do some government work? A chap like you can always pick up the threads. I'm told Charles Odmore is dying to rope you in for something or other.'

‘I might.'

‘Well, I must run. It's very kind of you to have asked me for a drink.'

‘Not at all.'

‘I've got to beetle over to the flat to pick up some warmer clothes now the weather's changed.'

‘One can get a touch of autumn at this time of year in London.'

‘You know Garth's living at the flat now? He's done some redecorating. The place looks quite something. Even the bathroom.'

‘That's good.'

‘It's amazing what a lick of paint and some Regency wallpaper can do.'

‘I'm sure.'

‘Oh I forgot to tell you. Garth's publishing a novel in the autumn. He wrote it in America.'

‘Good for him.'

‘Crazy
avant-garde
stuff I imagine, I haven't read it. He's awfully busy. He's just started another novel. And he's revising that thing of Norman Monkley's. You remember that chap Norman Monkley wrote a novel?'

‘Yes.'

‘Well, Garth's revising it and it might be published too. Garth's going to let the Monkleys have all the royalties.'

‘That's good of him.'

‘Well, he could hardly do less. I went to see the Monkleys last week. Norman was doing some sort of basket work. He's quite a sweet character now.'

‘Good.'

‘I must fly. I've got to get over to the flat, and I said I'd cook supper for Mavis. She'll be exhausted. She's been spending today carting the char's idiot child to an institution.'

‘Mavis is very kind.'

‘Yes, isn't she. You know, her kindness to me has been an absolute revelation. I felt such a miserable wreck and she's quite put me on my feet again. I must say I had a rotten time. But now I feel like a reconstituted Humpty Dumpty.'

‘She's good at helping.'

‘You can say that again. You know, she's awfully like Dorina in a way, she's got that concentrated sweetness, but without any of the feyness and the fear. I don't think Mavis is afraid of anything.'

‘No, indeed.'

‘Poor old Dorina was just a sort of half-person really, a maimed creature, she had to die, like certain kinds of cripples have to. They can't last.'

‘Maybe.'

‘That idiot child will probably die in its teens, the doctor told Mavis. A good thing too. Mavis didn't tell the mother, of course.'

‘Naturally —'

‘Mavis has certainly helped me to see the world in perspective.'

‘I'm glad.'

‘One must have a sense of proportion. I used to be a bundle of nerves. I used to worry about every damn thing.'

‘One shouldn't do that.'

‘Well, ta-ta.'

‘Wait a minute,' said Matthew. They had both risen. A darkish evening brooded like mist in the unlighted room. A wet chill wind had plastered a few translucent stocking-coloured leaves from the walnut tree upon the window pane.

‘Yes?'

‘Can I ask you something?'

‘Anything. Anything in the world.'

‘You said once,' said Matthew, ‘you said it to several people, that Betty committed suicide. But that wasn't true, was it?'

‘Of course it wasn't true,' said Austin.

‘You said it out of resentment against me?'

‘Yes.'

‘So that you could blame me and make me feel guilt?'

‘Yes.'

‘I see.'

‘Anything else you'd like to know?'

‘Why did you say at the inquest that Betty couldn't swim?'

‘I didn't say it,' said Austin. ‘Betty was quite a good swimmer. She just hit her head in falling.'

‘You did say it. I distinctly remember.'

‘I didn't.'

‘Oh well,' said Matthew, ‘maybe my memory is at fault. Anyway, what does it matter now.'

‘You seem depressed,' said Austin. ‘You mustn't give way to depression. You need a week or so at the seaside.'

‘Maybe.'

‘Well, I really
must
dash now, I've got to buy frozen peas and all sorts on the way back. Goodbye, then, and chin up.'

‘Goodbye, Austin.'

Alone, Matthew sat down and poured himself another stiff whisky. He was drinking too hard these days.

When a man has reflected much he is tempted to imagine himself as the prime author of change. Perhaps in such a mood God actually succeeded in creating the world. But for man such moods are times of illusion. What we have deeply imagined we feign to control, often with what seem to be the best of motives. But the reality is huge and dark which lies beyond the lighted area of our intentions.

I came to set him free, thought Matthew. I came to change magic into spirit. It was all to be brought about by me. Now when it appears that somehow or other, by means which I do not even understand, he has got out, I ought to be glad. Did I really want to be his mentor and to set up as his judge? No. He has his desolation as I have mine, and let him be free of it. I wanted that bond to be cut, but I did want to cut it myself. And now I am sad as if I had lost a beloved.

‘Pinkie —', said Clara, coming into the dining-room where her husband was reading
The Times
over breakfast, ‘that was Hester on the telephone. She says that Henrietta Sayce has been killed in an accident.'

‘My God!'

‘Oh dear, oh dear —' said Clara. She sat down at the table and dissolved into a speechless rigmarole of whimpering whining tears. Her face looked haggard, wrinkled, smaller, older. Inside her crumpled housecoat with its frayed collar she clung to herself and swayed with the sudden mourning of those who realize that they are old. George watched her with compassion, with fear.

‘Oh dear,' said Clara, mopping her eyes with her sleeve and shuddering anew, ‘it's so unbearable. Poor little girl. I know she was a difficult child but she was so sweet and so awfully clever, I can hardly believe it, it sounds idiotic but I used to think sometimes she might make a wife for Patrick when she grew up, they were so fond of each other, and there's all that money on Penny's side, and now she's dead, oh dear, dear, dear —'

‘Poor little wretch. What happened?'

‘It was last night. She was climbing on some scaffolding and she fell off and broke her skull. She never regained consciousness.'

‘Poor Penny.'

‘Yes. Poor Penny. Martin dying of cancer for two years and now this.'

‘Is Oliver with her?'

‘That's another thing. Oliver's incommunicado somewhere in Greece with that Oxford — you know, that Hilton boy. They don't know where he is.'

‘You'd better go to Penny.'

‘Hester says Mollie's with her. Mollie knows her better than I do, but I'll call over just in case. Oh dear — And it will upset Gracie so. Everything upsets her now. She cries so over the television.'

‘You'd better ring up Patrick and tell him.'

‘Oh — I
can't
.'

‘Well, I will. Do compose yourself, Clara. After all it isn't one of our children.'

‘Yes, but it might be. Patrick is so rash and Gracie is wasting away.'

‘Charles says Matthew told him that Ludwig is going back to America. That's one good thing. Gracie will feel better when he's gone.'

‘I hope so. I hope he won't get himself killed in the war just so as to upset her more.'

‘She needs distractions. Perhaps she'll interest herself in the Villa now Matthew's moving out.'

‘Why is Matthew moving out, I wonder?'

‘So as to make a love nest for himself and Mavis, I imagine.'

‘I gather Mavis is having an awful time with Austin. I think she's a saint.'

‘Austin is exploiting her. He always exploits women. He's the sort of man who always manages to find the right woman for the sort of trouble he's in.'

‘You sound envious.'

‘I'm not. I manage it too. Only in my case she's always the same.'

‘Darling —'

‘Matthew will rescue Mavis at the appropriate moment.'

‘Oh, Pinkie, I must get dressed. Do you think I should ring Penny now? Oh how awful it is! What can I say?'

‘Leave it till after ten. Here, have some more coffee. Would you like some brandy?'

‘No, no. I'm glad about the Villa.'

‘So am I, especially if Gracie really means it.'

‘About our all going to live there together? Oh I'm sure she does. She needs the family terribly just now. We all need each other. We must close our ranks. At least we've still got each other, not like poor Penny, oh dear I can't bear to think of it —'

‘Clara, please, coffee.'

‘Pinkie, it will be good, won't it, when we're all together in that lovely house. It's the only thing that cheers me a little, that and hoping that now Gracie and —'

‘She said she wanted Charlotte to come too?'

‘Yes, she wants Char too. You know, I think we weren't bossy enough with Gracie when she inherited from mama. We should have told her firmly to let us deal. She'd have been happier. Children don't really like freedom.'

‘Maybe. Would Char come through? Isn't she still staying with Mitzi Ricardo?'

‘She's only doing it to annoy us, to show us how little she needs us. She'll get over her pique. When we're all together she'll come. She did it for mama, she'll do it for us. After all, she loves us and family matters to her, though she pretends not. You and me and Gracie and Patrick and Char. We'll put a brave face on the world —'

‘You'd better go and see Charlotte.'

‘I know. I've been so upset about Gracie and so busy and now there's Penny — oh God, I must get dressed — Pinkie, it's too awful, what
can
I say to Penny? I think I won't telephone, I'll just go round. And I've got so much to do today, with the Odmores coming to dinner, at least that's something, isn't it, I do so hope —'

‘Hmmm, yes. Rather unfortunate. You haven't seen
The Times
.'

‘No. What?'

‘“The engagement is announced between Sebastian Robert, elder son of Sir Charles and Lady Odmore and Karen Janice, daughter of Mr and the Hon. Mrs Geoffrey Arbuthnot — ” Now, Clara, please,
please
—'

‘You're a snob, that's why,' said Mitzi.

Charlotte was silent. She was slowly putting her clothes into a suitcase.

‘You haven't got what it takes,' said Mitzi. ‘You aren't capable of real relationships. People like you just aren't. You've always lived in a polite little world. Nobody ever really meets anybody else in your world. How many people have you ever really met in your life? You became all dead and frozen years ago. You're the real old maid type. You get frightened if anybody looks at you. You've just lived by the conventions. You've always been protected and looked after and spoilt and dressed up in hats and beads and kid gloves. You don't know what real people smell like.'

Charlotte was silent.

‘I don't know what I'm making these eggs for,' said Mitzi. ‘What's the use of eggs when everything's gone to pieces and died on us? I can't eat. I feel sick with misery. Little you care.' She spooned the eggs into the bin.

Charlotte was silent.

The kitchen communicated directly with Charlotte's room. The cottage was tiny. The garden was tiny, pretty, with a pebbled path. There was a fir wood on one side. On the other there were red brick bungalows. Charlotte had already planted a beech hedge to screen them.

‘You've never loved anyone in your life. I don't think you really know how to love at all.'

‘You should never say that to anybody,' said Charlotte.

‘Well, go on, who have you loved, tell me.'

Charlotte looked down into the suitcase where her clothes were carefully folded. Neat packing did not fail when life failed. She bit the inside of her lower lip and breathed deeply. She was determined not to shed any more tears. Mitzi had been hysterical twice, and her own tears had flowed too often. Mitzi was angry and tearless now, but if Charlotte wept there would be more screams. Charlotte forced back the tears, but could not speak.

‘Cat got your tongue, dear?'

‘Please don't nag me,' said Charlotte.

‘Nag, nag! It's you who nag, throwing that word at me all the time. When you argue it's reasoning. When I argue it's nagging.'

‘I'm sorry, Mitzi.'

‘You're not sorry. If you were you wouldn't wreck everything. You're such a bloody coward.'

‘It's better to go sooner than later,' said Charlotte. ‘It would be even more awful later.'

‘That's a stupid argument. Why go at all? You haven't even given it a try.'

‘It's no use.'

‘Why not?'

‘We're just not compatible.'

‘Compatible! That's a silly newspaper word. God, and I thought you were so intelligent! We're different. But that's what love's about.'