Daughters (18 page)

‘I don’t see why not.’

A glance around the heaving room revealed that the older generation was beginning to drift away, leaving the achingly cool and young settled in for the duration.

The champagne was working. For an hour or so, Lara counted herself among the achingly cool and young. And why not? It wasn’t often she was given the chance to spy (legitimately) on her daughters’ lives. Nosiness was sweet indeed and her insides fizzed with elation. Who was Jasmine talking to? What was Eve saying? Once they had become adults, the daughters had whisked themselves out of Lara’s life. Of course they had – and she had no right to know what was going on.

(If you believe
that
, said her still, quiet voice.)

She buttonholed a passing waiter for a champagne
refill. Raising the glass, she focused on Andrew. Beside him Duncan told a long, elaborate joke. Andrew was listening and not listening. His gaze had veered past his friend’s shoulder and fixed on the girl in the blue dress.

The fizz and elation evaporated.

What had Maudie said?

Have you ever heard either of them say, ‘Go away, everyone, we want to be with each other’?

Making a deliberate effort, Lara turned away to seek out Eve. Surrounded by her friends, an aura – mysterious, enviable – of the spoken-for played around her, and she was enjoying the attention. Smoothing down the Prada skirt, Lara went to join her.

Soon after Maudie arrived at the party, her father detached himself from Sarah and buttonholed her. ‘You haven’t been to see me for ages.’

Do not blurt out:
as if you cared
. No. Instead, politely: ‘You never invited me.’

‘You have a permanent invitation.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ she said, and was rewarded with his hurt expression.

She softened. ‘How are the bees?’

‘Not easy.’ It was obvious that her father hated admitting his lack of competence – and she tucked the reminder away. ‘Minds of their own.’ He hesitated. ‘Actually, they did swarm.’

She couldn’t help saying, ‘Perhaps they don’t like Membury. Perhaps they think it’s pretentious and prefer the cottage down the road.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps they do.’ He stuffed a hand into his pocket. ‘Maudie, don’t spoil the party. OK? There’s no need.’

True.

‘We did get on better once.’

That was true, too.

‘Don’t be silly, Dad.’

There was a ripple of laughter from the group gathered around Eve. Her father and she looked across at them.

‘Did you like Membury?’ he asked. ‘There’re places I’d love to show you. I’ll order the bees to behave.’ He hesitated. ‘You could bring your mother when it’s warmer. She liked the garden. I could tell.’

Maudie said politely, ‘I hope you and Sarah enjoy living in your beautiful house and garden.’

‘Please don’t be angry, Maudie.’

‘I’m not angry.’

‘You are. And I know why. A whole history …’ Suddenly out of his depth, he stumbled and collected himself. ‘I’m sorry about the way things turned out. But we are where we are, and Evie’s engagement party is the place to keep the lid on it.’

‘I’m not angry, just resigned.’

Her father was superlative at keeping a lid on things. Piling up layer upon layer of the unspoken and ignored. She gave vent to an irritated sigh.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Normally, you’re more vocal.’

Jasmine and Eve always said what they’d missed was their father reading bedtime stories to them. All Maudie could recollect with any precision (apart from the
running-away episode) was the big, bluff father who liked nothing so much as a good tease.

‘Where did you come from, Maudie?’ Her father thought it hilarious to pretend she was adopted. ‘The Russells don’t mind aliens.’ The confident, strident fun poked at her made her want to turn herself inside out. ‘Tell me, do they have tea on Planet Maudie?’

It was typical of him to be so flat-footed. To get things so wrong.

‘Abandonment has a long tail,’ she remarked. He peered at her from over his glass, and she knew he was willing her to say things were all right when they weren’t. ‘How do you expect I’d feel? How any of us would feel?’

In honour of Eve, he was wearing a suit. Dark grey, smart. Sarah had ironed his shirt to icy perfection. The effect was to make him look like a banker, which, of course, he wasn’t and never had been. ‘Maudie, I really wish you’d talked to me before you applied to Harvard. I could have helped. Advised.’

‘But that was the point,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I wanted to do it on my own.’

‘But you know nothing about it.’

Didn’t she? Alicia had told her tales of weathered buildings, clipped lawns, the deep-coloured fall … and the icy breath of winter that blew away the old notions of how to do things. ‘I know enough.’

He looked down into his glass. ‘This isn’t the place to go into detail but what you do affects my position. You do realize that? You’re the priority, of course, but didn’t you think I needed to know?’ There was a tiny pause. ‘Cause and effect.’

She sent him a long look. ‘I know about cause and effect.’

‘Well, then.’

Now she looked anywhere but at him. ‘I don’t want anything from you.’ Low-lying resentment, undercut with a kind of desperation, welled in her. ‘I can manage without.’

‘Maudie, how much do you know about it? Truthfully. You understand that I’ll have to declare my financial position.’

‘I’ll get a loan,’ she said. ‘You stick to your … plans.’

He gave up. ‘To be continued,’ he said ruefully. He was heading for Sarah when a thought struck. ‘By the way, if you reach the interviews, remember to look the interviewer straight in the eyes.’

‘Good God, Dad, that must be the first time you’ve ever given me any advice.’

‘Which suggests it’s well-meant and thoughtful.’

He had turned away but she caught his arm. ‘You said bring Mum to Membury,’ she said. ‘Why would she want to come? Why would she want to see you? Is it because you want to flaunt the house in her face – which I think is pretty low? Have you ever thought about her life since you walked out on it? She works night and day and frets about us. It’s about time she had a life and found someone else. Let her go.’

He glanced down at his shoes – black, highly polished. ‘Oh, Maudie,’ he said. ‘Never mind.’

This was useless. She pulled at the neckline of her black shift. ‘Sarah’s waiting for you,’ she said.

He stepped away. ‘I’ll see you at the dinner.’

A mirror ran along the side of one wall in the large room, and Maudie happened to catch sight of herself pinioned among the bright-coloured, oscillating mass – taller than most and, compared to Eve and Andrew’s well-heeled, fashionable friends, awkwardly dressed. No doubt about it, she stuck out to her disadvantage in this smart, assured crowd. There was so much money here, so much chit-chat, so much grooming, so much taking-for-granted that food would be in their mouths and houses would be warm.

She edged her way over to Tess. She was talking to Jasmine and her streaked head was nodding. Sweet Tess, she must tell her not to nod like that.

That brought her up short.

She and Tess were about to change.

The Never Never Land of teenage contempt, slackness, rage and excess would soon have gone for ever. Worse, she, Maudie, would have to modify her splenetic reflections and become
reasonable.
Oh, God. At this party to celebrate yet another rite of passage, she understood far more precisely than ever before that she would miss her state of teenage anarchy.

Duncan and Andrew had met at university and were friends. Very good friends. Together, they had shouldered epic drinking sessions, and set about careers that would earn them a great deal of money. They were quite open about the latter. ‘It’s a tough world,’ said Duncan, who was used to skimping and his parents’ money worries. ‘Eat or be eaten.’

Andrew was less up-front about what he believed in or how he viewed his work – partly, Jasmine had concluded, because he had better-off parents than most on whom to fall back, and partly because he was more reticent. Or elusive.

‘Do you talk to each other?’ she asked Duncan.

‘Are you having me on, Miz Scarlett?’

‘No, I mean
really
talk to him? Do you share the really private thoughts?’

Duncan considered. ‘Yes … I suppose we do. As much as I’m into that sort of thing.’

‘You talk to me. A bit.’

‘That’s different.’

She kissed him.

Eve painted Andrew as a big softie and a kind person. Jasmine couldn’t quite see this but was prepared to take her sister’s word for it.

‘What attracted you to him in the first place?’ she had asked.

Evie had licked her lips. ‘He’s romantic. Very. A red-rose-on-the-birthday sort of person.’

Jasmine had blinked. ‘You’re not taken in by that sort of thing, normally, Evie. You always said you didn’t do such stuff.’

A light had crept into her big eyes. ‘Did I? How … short-sighted.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘It’s really very nice, Jas.
Lovely
, in fact.’ Ducking her head, she searched for something in her handbag. ‘Andrew always has something interesting to say. He has views on what’s going on. It’s like having a hotline into what makes the world tick. He’s logical as well as romantic. I like that.’

‘Whose idea was it to get married?’

She had flushed painfully. ‘Mine, really. I had to persuade him a bit – well, introduce the idea … But once I had …’

‘Yes?’

‘He said he thought it was an excellent plan for the future.’

‘That doesn’t sound romantic.’

Eve had laughed. A happy, light-hearted sound. ‘Depends how you say it. And where.’

The party continued. Duncan tucked his hand under Jasmine’s arm. They were talking with friends of Andrew’s, Nell and Michael, and the simplicity and affection of his gesture gave her untold pleasure.

A waiter offered them a plate of beef and horseradish canapés and Duncan removed his hand.

She missed it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she observed Eve snatch up a glass of champagne and gulp a large mouthful. Nerves, she thought, for Eve never drank much. The engagement ring flashed in the lights. An ugly twinge of jealousy shot through her, which she wrestled with.

‘Jas,’ said Nell, ‘please tell me where you got the dress. Otherwise I’m going to rip it off you.’

It was short, tight, black and suited her. The jealousy – thank God – vanished. She told Nell where she had bought it and a debate ensued on hot dresses, hot shoes and hot bags.

Nell’s jacket didn’t quite fit across the shoulders, and she kept tugging at it. ‘You always look so great,’ she said eventually, her tone combining admiration and pique.

Jasmine caught another flash of light from Eve’s ring. Sometimes she was ashamed at how fragile the constructs were to which she clung – the people, habits and places of refuge. Was everyone similar? A falling-out with a friend, a failed work project, a reminder that Duncan had not asked her to marry him … Those happenstances had the power to destabilize her, however hard she fought against it.

Wasn’t it enough that Duncan loved her? Reason said yes. Duncan argued: why cross the
t
s and dot the
i
s when there was no good reason to do so? Marriage was a state-and-Church sponsored piece of paper. This was the rational approach – ‘The only approach,’ he insisted, deploying the logic he admired. On the necessity of being rational, she and he agreed. But nothing – neither rationality nor logic – could explain away, or neutralize, the
breathless feeling that, from time to time, swept over her, or a bone-deep desire that lodged in her pelvis to be married, settled and to bear children.

Michael was asking about work, and she was replying. ‘Brands are built on what people are saying about you, not what you say about yourself.’

A bored Nell drifted off, but Michael plied her with questions. ‘If a brand works, and this is what we work towards, then people who use it adopt it. You come to feel that a brand of mayonnaise or face cream is yours. Job done.’

‘Like “my M&S”?’

Duncan grabbed more of the passing canapés, and demolished them with his customary gusto and – this was the best description she could muster – the
gleaming
energy that had acted like a magnet on her. ‘Got it in one,’ he said. ‘Like “my Nell” or “my Jasmine”.’

Or
my Duncan
?

He grinned at Michael, who grinned back. Boys.
Mano a mano.

‘Idiots,’ she said fondly. ‘I’ll see you later, I want to say hello to my father.’

Bill was talking to Dorothea, and Jasmine hovered by them while plans were formulated for the Havants to visit Membury Manor. Eventually Bill turned to her. ‘Hello, Jassy.’ He kissed her in the way he always did. Affectionate but brisk. ‘All well?’

She knew perfectly well that, if he was fond of her, he wasn’t very interested in her life and there was no point in going into detail. ‘Fine.’

‘Any big projects on?’

She smiled up at him. ‘One or two, Dad. Nothing that’s up your street.’

‘I’m not that old, Jas.’

Look, Dad, she wanted to say to him, I want to know why I’m the one you favour least. She imagined his surprise, followed by the stag-at-bay look that always crossed his face if something
emotional
was being discussed. I understand, she might continue, that Evie and I are the children of the woman who left
you, even if involuntarily. I have an idea of the pain you must have felt. I understand that you might associate me and Evie, especially Evie, with that pain. But … Here she would force him to look into her eyes. With Evie it works differently, doesn’t it? Perhaps because she was the direct cause of Mary’s death you feel protective and determined to shield her from any guilt. I admire that. Perhaps it’s much simpler. I know you love me, but I don’t think you
like
me very much.

By this time, he would be well and truly panicked.

He was waiting for her to say something. Her lips twitched. She would let him off the soul searching. But something else Maudie had said floated into her mind. ‘It doesn’t matter two hoots about Dad. We’re fine as we are. Just fine.’