Sunset at Blandings (6 page)

‘Where
every prospect pleases and only man is vile.’

‘Exactly.
However, it’s the women you have to watch out for, rather than the men. If you
had a classical education, you will remember the Gorgon who used to turn people
to blocks of ice
[25]
with a glance. My sister Florence, whom you will be meeting in a moment, is
like that when offended.’

‘I can
see the solution there. I won’t offend her.’

‘You
have already done so. You have come to paint the Empress’s portrait, to be
added to those in the family portrait gallery, and she is as sick as mud about
it. When she is as sick as mud about anything she stiffens from the soles of
her feet upwards and gives the offending party the sort of look the Gorgon used
to give people. Being her brother and exposed to it from childhood, I am immune
to this, but I always warn strangers to be sure to make their wills before
getting together with her, just in case. Some people will tell you that she isn’t
as bad as my sister Connie. How right Kipling was when he made that crack about
the female of the species being more deadly than the male. Look at our family.
My brother Clarence is as gentle a soul as ever said “What ho!” to a pig, and
I, as you must have noticed already, am absolutely charming, but the only one
of my sisters whom I would not be afraid to meet down a dark alley is Diana.’

It
would be idle to deny that these grave words gave young Mr. Smith a
disagreeable sinking sensation in the neighbourhood of the third waistcoat
button, but love conquers all, as someone once said, and he thought of Vicky
and was strong again. He might be about to be turned into a block of ice, but
the weather was warm and he would eventually thaw out again and see Vicky once
more. He told Gally that his plans were unaltered, and Gally said it did him
credit.

‘The
great thing to bear in mind,’ said Gally, ‘is that sisters are sent into the
world to try us and make us more spiritual. I attribute my own spirituality
entirely to having been brought up in the same nursery as Connie and Hermione
and Dora. It taught me fortitude and a sense of proportion. When I went out
into the great world, I met a variety of tough eggs, but always I was able to
say to myself “Courage, Galahad, this egg is unquestionably hard to cope with,
but he isn’t Connie or Hermione or Dora!” You wouldn’t believe the things that
went on in that nursery. My sister Hermione once laid me out cold with one blow
of her doll Belinda. Am I scaring you?’

‘Yes,’
said Jeff.

‘You
quail at the thought of meeting Florence?’

‘Yes,’
said Jeff.

‘But
you are prepared to go through it?’

‘Yes,’
said Jeff.

‘Good.
Let us hope that this will be one of her good mornings,’ said Gally, and he
took him to Beach and told Beach to take him to Lady Florence, which Beach did,
and Gally returned to his hammock.
[26]

Before
he could reach it he met Sir James Piper coming across the lawn and was pained
to see his careworn aspect. Sir James was looking as an investor in some
[27]
company might have looked on
learning that its managing director had left England without stopping to pack.

‘Stap
my vitals, Jimmy,’ said Gaily, ‘you look like the Mona Lisa.
[28]
You remind me of the last time
I saw you chucked out of the old Gardenia. The same wan expression as the hand
of the Law closed on coat collar and trouser seat. What’s wrong? Or needn’t I
ask?’

‘You
needn’t.’

‘The
same little trouble you were having when we chatted at the Emsworth Arms?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll
give you a pep talk.’

‘I
haven’t time for any pep talks. I’m playing croquet
[29]
with Diana. She’s waiting for
me now.’

It is
always pleasant for a man of good will to be given the chance of bringing the
roses back to the cheeks of a stricken friend, and Gally lost no time in
availing himself of this one.

‘Croquet!’
he cried. ‘Then, my dear fellow, what on earth are you making heavy weather
about? Don’t you know that there is no surer way to a woman’s heart than that
footling game? At least there usedn’t to be when I was ass enough to swing a
mallet in my youth. In those days eighty per cent of betrothals took place on
the croquet lawn. The opportunities for whispering words of love into
shell-like ears are endless. If I hadn’t been sent to South Africa, where they
didn’t play, I should have been engaged half a dozen times before I was
twenty-five. So buck up, Jimmy. Go ahead and fear nothing. I see you bringing
off a sensational triumph.’

‘With
Murchison looking on?’

Gally’s
enthusiasm waned perceptibly.

‘I’d
forgotten Murchison,’ he said.

‘I hadn’t,’
said Sir James. ‘I never do.’

It was
shortly after he had passed on to keep his tryst, with E. B. Murchison
following in his footsteps like King Wenceslaus’s page, that Gaily, back in the
hammock and thinking happily how comfortable Florence would have been if she
had got there first, was roused from his musings by the arrival of Vicky.

Vicky
was looking bewildered, as if strange things had been happening around her
which she felt that only Gally with his greater wisdom could explain. Though
she was not hopeful that even Gally would be able to find an explanation for
what was weighing on her mind at the moment except the unwelcome one that that
mind was tottering.

‘Gally,’
she said, ‘do you think you can see things that aren’t there?’

‘Do you
mean ghosts? Clarence’s pig man claims to have seen the White Lady of Blandings
one Saturday night as he was coming out of the Emsworth Arms at closing time.
One cannot, however, dismiss the theory that he was pie-eyed at the time. Why
do you ask?’

‘Because
I’ve just seen Jeff.’

‘Ah,
yes.’

‘Is
that all you can say?’

‘You
were bound to see him some time, now that he’s here.’

‘He’s
here?’

‘Yes, I
got him the job of painting the Empress. ‘Vicky uttered what in a girl less
attractive would have been a squeal. She was conscious of a weakness about the
knees. Her grandmother in similar circumstances would have swooned.

‘Gally,’
she said, ‘I think I’m going to collapse on you.’

‘Come
along. Plenty of room.’

‘Or
shall I just gaze at you with adoring eyes?’

‘Whichever
you prefer. When you meet him, by the way, you must remember to address him as
Mister Smith. He is here strictly incognito.’

‘I’ll
remember.’

‘Well,
mind you do.’

‘Don’t
be afraid I’ll let the side down. I’ve read lots of secret service stories and
I know the procedure. I will now,’ said Vicky, ‘gaze at you with adoring eyes.’

She was
proceeding to do so, when a figure, well-knit though inclining to stoutness,
appeared on the lawn. Sir James Piper, closely followed by Sergeant E. B.
Murchison.

‘Hullo,’
said Gally as his old friend reached the hammock. ‘Finished your croquet
already?’

Sir
James hastened to dispel any idea he may have had that that leisured pastime
had been affected by the modern craze for speed.

‘We
haven’t begun yet.’

‘What’s
the trouble?’

‘Daphne
wanted her large hat.’

‘I don’t
wonder. The sun is very sultry and we must avoid its ultry-violet rays, as the
song says.
[30]
Well, I won’t keep you. Don’t forget what I told you.’

‘What
did you tell him?’ Vicky asked as Sir James resumed his quest for large hats.

‘To
push croquet to its logical conclusion.’

‘Whatever
that means.’

‘I will
explain when it’s cooler.’

‘Explain
now.’

‘It’s
quite simple. He’s in love with your Aunt Diana, and I was pointing out to him …
Ah, here he is, complete with hat. You’ve got that Mona Lisa look again,
Jimmy. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s
exactly wrong, but I wish Brenda would mind her own business. She’s sent my
secretary down here in case, she says, I need him.’

‘Well,
don’t you? I would have thought he was the very chap you would want to have
around if any weighty thoughts occurred to you. You’d look pretty silly if an
idea for balancing the budget occurred to you and you forgot it because there
was nobody to take it down in his notebook.’

‘I’m
supposed to be on holiday.’

‘You
mustn’t think so much of holidays, Jimmy. Life is stern and earnest. You ought
to be floating loans or whatever it is you do in your job, and a secretary is
essential. However, as you seem determined to live for pleasure alone, I will
leave you to your croquet.’

‘The
last thing I want is Claude Duff following me about with his note book. It’s bad
enough having Murchison. But two of them!’

Words
failed Sir James and he passed on, and Gally was so moved that he sat up in the
hammock and dropped his eyeglass.

‘Claude
Duff!’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh my fur and whiskers!’

‘What’s
the matter?’

‘Ruin
stares us in the eyeball.’

‘Because
Claude Duff is here?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’
said Gaily, ‘he is an intimate friend of your Jeff and will undoubtedly call
him by his real name in front of Florence the moment they meet.’

CHAPTER
EIGHT

THE SUN was shining as
brightly as ever, the birds and bees respectively singing and buzzing with undiminished
vigour, but Vicky did not notice them. Her whole attention was monopolized by
her Uncle Galahad, who had turned misty and was flickering like an old-time
silent picture.

‘Oh,
Gally,’ she wailed. ‘Oh, Gally!’

He had
no comfort to offer. It was with a sombre look on his face that he retrieved
the eyeglass which was dancing on the end of its string.

‘You
may well say “Oh, Gally”,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you made it
something stronger.’

‘This
is frightful!’

‘The
situation has certainly started to deteriorate.’

‘He’ll
be thrown out.’

‘On his
ear. “Chuck this man as far as he’ll go, and I want to see him bounce twice”,
Florence will say to the hired help. Unless I have an inspiration.’

‘Oh, do
try.’

‘I am
trying, and I think I’m getting the glimmering of an idea. But I shall need a
few minutes’ solitude if I am to develop it. I can’t possibly plot and plan
with you having conniption fits at my elbow. Leave me, child, I would be alone.
Trot off and pick flowers.’

‘How
long?’

‘Short
stalks.’

‘I mean
how long do you want to be alone?’

‘Call
it a quarter of an hour.’

‘Will
that be enough?’

‘It
should be.’

‘You’re
wonderful, Gally.’

‘I
always was from my earliest years. It’s a gift.’

Vicky
was one of those girls who are anxious to help. She gave Gally twenty minutes
instead of the quarter of an hour he had specified. When she returned to the
hammock, she found him so obviously pleased with himself that it was unnecessary
to ask questions. She thrilled with relief and for the first time was able to
appreciate the efforts of the sun, the birds and the bees, which all this while
had been giving of their best.

‘I’ve
got it,’ said Gaily. ‘The solution turned out to be a very simple one. I shall
see Claude before he meets Jeff and I shall tell him the tale.’

‘You’ll
do what?’

‘Tell
him the tale.’

‘I don’t
follow you, Mr. Threepwood.’

‘You
don’t know what is meant by telling the tale?’

‘No.’

‘Then
in order to explain I shall have to take you back to my impecunious youth, when
I combined a taste for wagering on horses with an inability to spot which of
the contestants was going to finish first. In a word I was one of the mugs and
in constant debt to turf accountants who liked one to settle one’s obligations
with the minimum of delay. Fortunately I was born with the gift of persuasive
eloquence. Mug though I was, I could tell a tale. When at my best, I could make
bookies cry and sometimes lend me a flyer to be going along with.’

‘What
used you to say to them?’

‘It
wasn’t so much what I said as the tone of voice. I had the same knack Sarah
Bernhardt had of tearing the heart strings.’

‘I hope
you were ashamed of yourself.’