Camomile Lawn (24 page)

‘How many lessons?’ asked Helena suspiciously.

‘Twelve, two a week, so in six weeks I shall—where’s she gone?’ Helena, carrying the teapot, had left the room, her lips compressed.

‘Did Monika suggest this course, Uncle?’

‘Yes. Fact is she gets kicked when I dance with her and one gets a bit weary of dancing with a chair.’

‘A chair?’

‘Yes. I turn back the carpet and dance with a chair. It can’t complain if it gets kicked but it’s not like dancing with live flesh. But Monika complains about that too.’

‘Why?’

‘Keeps her awake, scraping noise on the parquet. What with that and the music she loses sleep. She has to get up early to milk the cow, says it can’t wait, I ask you, she should train it. Anyway the upshot was she came up with this plan. I paid in advance, start on Wednesday.’

‘A brilliant idea, terribly brave.’

‘What’s brave?’ Helena came back carrying the teapot. ‘More tea, anybody?’

‘Uncle Richard learning to dance is heroic.’

‘How long will this pantomime take?’ Helena looked coldly at Richard.

‘Six weeks, my dear. I told you.’

‘My God!’

‘I won’t be a bother. I have my club, my tailor, Monika’s shopping and I’m told there’s a place called the Windmill.’

‘That’s for dirty old men.’

‘No it isn’t, Aunt Helena. Hector met someone who’d been there. He said it was good clean fun.’

‘Did he go himself? No, I can see he didn’t.’

‘Hector would have no need,’ said Richard, looking at Calypso.

‘It’s naked girls.’ Helena sighed.

‘You are in no position to talk.’ Richard held out his cup for a refill.

‘Now, now,’ said Calypso, ‘don’t squabble.’

‘Not that one would call you a girl any more,’ pursued Richard. ‘More in the class of Monika,
“femme d’un certain age”
fits the bill. Now you’ve abandoned me and taken to this life in London you have beauty—’

‘Thanks,’ said Helena, interrupting.

‘Of course Monika is sensitive. She has a lot to put up with, not knowing whether her son is alive—dead, if you ask me, but women go on hoping—and Max carrying on with you and again, if you ask me, others as well. What d’you think, Calypso?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘Of course you know, fellow’s got an eye for the girls and it’s not only his eye.’ Richard, watching Helena, burst into a guffaw. ‘Anyway, who am I to grumble, Monika puts up with it. Life in Cornwall seems to suit her. She did offer to teach me herself but I preferred the chair. A chair does what you want, doesn’t try to lead, it bloody goes where you push.’

‘What do you do for music? There aren’t many dance records in the house.’

‘That’s a point, clever of you. There’s a late-night programme of dance music on the wireless, that keeps her awake too, then she starts thinking about her boy, I daresay.’

‘Yes,’ said Calypso, ‘she probably does.’ She remembered Monika’s anguish.

‘Well, now, suppose I trot round and see Polly? Back from work by now, I expect. I want to ask her to come down and see Sophy. I’ve never seen a girls’ school at close range.’

‘I’d ring up first,’ said Calypso hastily.

‘Really? Like that, is she? My word, you’ve all changed. I’ll probably find Sophy doesn’t want to be taken out.’

‘Of course she does. I’ll come with you. Let’s make a day of it, unless you want to go, Aunt Helena?’ Helena shook her head. ‘Fling will love a day in the country. Let’s have a picnic.’

‘All right. I’ll telephone the school.’

‘I’ll tell her I’m having a baby. I wonder what she’ll say to that.’

‘There’s a cooked chicken in one of the hampers, the one they called Jane. Sophy was rather fond of it but it’s stopped laying so Monika gave it the chop.’

‘What brutality.’

‘You sure Polly wouldn’t like to come too? Take her mind off Walter. The Floyer boys are stationed somewhere near, it might be possible—’

‘They’ve been moved to another station now they are on ops again.’

‘Pity, we might have combined—seen them lately, have you?’

‘No,’ said Calypso obliquely, ‘no.’

‘They are known as the “High Floyers” in the village. Baptist minister having a dig at the Rector’s high churchmanship. Jolly good joke until they got shot down. Perhaps Sophy has some little friends who’d like a blow-out. That’s what children like when they are at school.’

‘She won’t be a child much longer.’ Helena eyed her husband thoughtfully.

‘All the more reason I should do a bit more than just pay the bills. I write, of course, and she writes back, but when she’s at home I sometimes wonder—’

‘Wonder what?’ Helena voiced anxiety.

‘Whether she’s quite normal. Not a tear when Walter was killed, left a note on the hall table and disappeared on some long walk, it was a shock for Monika and me. “Calypso phoned, Walter is killed.” Just like that, I ask you. It was cold of her.’

‘I expect she was glad it was not Oliver.’ Calypso looked thoughtfully at Helena. ‘She loves him.’

‘Rubbish, a child doesn’t know about love. What she’ll mind is if she discovers what she’s eating is Jane,’ said Richard sarcastically.

‘You dolt,’ said Helena viciously.

‘W
ELL, ONE HOPES ONE
gave some pleasure.’ Richard fumbled for the hinge of his leg through the material of his trousers. ‘Sophy’s little friends were a lot more forthcoming than she was. She was more interested in the grub than in us, if you ask me.’

‘She was glad to see us.’

‘You quite sure? I got more change out of her little friends, not that they gave me much information about Sophy.’

‘She says she hardly knows them. They aren’t in her form. She was sorry for them because nobody takes them out.’

‘Really? That shows a proper spirit. I was wrong about Jane. “Is this Jane?” the girl asks, biting into the drumstick, then, with her mouth full, “Can I have a bit of breast?” And then haggled as to who should pull the wishbone. I told you she was cold. Well, we’ve done our duty.’ Richard eased his leg into position and shook open the evening paper. The guard blew his whistle. The train started towards Liverpool Street with a clang.

Calypso pulled down the blackout blind and, leaning back, closed her eyes. Thinking of Sophy’s ivory-coloured face, watchful eyes, full-lipped vulnerable mouth, she could not think of her as cold, nor was she unloving, Calypso thought, with a pang of envy.

It had been a crisp blue and gold day and the Backs had looked their best. She and Sophy had walked slowly, following Richard ahead with the two guest girls, one redheaded, one fair. She had told Sophy about her impending child.

‘What will you do with it?’ Sophy had known instinctively that Calypso could not, would not cope.

She found herself telling Sophy of her visit to Scotland and the plan she had made. Sophy perfectly understood that Hector’s castle would receive the baby with joy. She told Sophy about Catherine, the lame woman who would take charge of the infant and bring it up. Walking and talking with Sophy she described the Scottish environment objectively. Sophy needed no explanation or excuse as to why it was not an environment she could bear but would be perfect for Hector’s child.

‘I suppose Catherine loves Hector?’

‘I believe she does.’

‘Is it Hector’s fault that she is lame?’

‘He feels responsible but she says the accident was not his fault, would have happened anyway.’

‘Is that true?’ Sophy watched her uncle limping ahead. Now and again he touched one of the girls, putting a hand on arm or shoulder.

‘She doesn’t elaborate.’

‘He would feel guilty if he does not love her. What have you arranged?’

Calypso explained that when the child was due Catherine would come. ‘I have booked a room in a nursing home in Wimpole Street.’

‘And then?’

‘Then she will take it up to Scotland and bring it up in Hector’s nursery. The place is full of Commandos but there’s a comfortable room in the nursery wing, above the kitchens.’

‘Won’t you have milk?’

‘Milk?’

‘Won’t you feed it? People do. I’ve learned about it, it’s called “breast-feeding”.’

‘I couldn’t bear to.’ Calypso shuddered, unconsciously raising her hands to her breasts. Sophy said nothing, watching the figures walking ahead. Then she said carelessly, ‘Of course not, they are private. What else?’

Sophy broke into her rare laughter, laughing at Calypso who began to laugh too.

‘I haven’t told anybody. Hector left me to find out for myself. The bastard. His family are Catholic, all his people up there are Catholic. He’s in disgrace for divorcing Daphne, they don’t think of me as his proper wife.’

‘Will they think the baby is—’

‘Blood’s thicker than religion in its case, and while they can’t take to me they’ll love the child.’

‘You’ve never bothered about religion.’

‘Of course I haven’t, none of us does, look at the twins. Mr Floyer’s a parson but you’d never know from their behaviour. It appears Hector’s is one of those very old Scottish families who survived Henry VIII’s mob. It’s rather smart. I am mugging them up.’

‘I suppose he thought you might not marry him if you knew.’

‘Of course I would have. I married him because he’s rich, everyone knows that.’

‘I hope he’s not going to put his hand up their skirts,’ exclaimed Sophy suddenly.

‘What?’

‘Uncle Richard. That’s what he used to do to me. He keeps patting Valerie and stroking Miranda.’

‘Then let’s walk faster and catch them up.’ Calypso increased her pace.

‘Didn’t he do it to you and Polly?’

‘I suppose he did, in a mild form. Oh Sophy, how awful, hurry.’

‘It’s not awful,’ said Sophy. ‘It’s just boring, but they wouldn’t understand. Uncle Richard!’ She let out a shout. ‘Wait for us.’ Ahead of them the two girls turned innocent faces alight with enquiry. ‘Calypso wants to see King’s Chapel, it’s the other way.’

‘Then we can have tea in a tea shop if we can find one,’ said Calypso to Miranda the redhead.

‘That would be nice,’ said Miranda. ‘Could we go to a lavatory before King’s Chapel?’

‘I’ll wait for you in the Chapel,’ said Richard. ‘Rest my leg.’

Watching him asleep in the opposite corner Calypso felt affection. He had played his avuncular part. All those two girls had been interested in was gobbling the picnic lunch. Why should he not put his hand up their skirts? she thought indignantly. They wore elastic in their knickers. She had observed the blonde Valerie wrapping a fairy cake in her handkerchief and stuffing it up under her gym tunic.

‘Come to me sometimes on your way through London,’ she had said to Sophy.

‘May I? I would love that. Polly often gets very full up.’

And what, Calypso thought, did Sophy mean by that? What did she know?

‘Not bad little friends, those two of Sophy’s.’ Richard woke suddenly. ‘Quite pretty and appetizing in their way. Pity Sophy’s growing up so fast.’

‘She’s going to be a beauty.’

‘D’you think so?’

‘Yes. Those eyes, like jet. Who was her father, Uncle Richard?’

‘Well may you ask! Better not to enquire, I never did. Wouldn’t have been much use if I’d wanted to. Her mother was dead by the time I reached her and I was left holding the baby, I ask you. Fortunately I had persuaded Helena to marry me, not that she has ever taken to the child. She is not a child lover.’

‘Nor am I.’

Richard laughed. ‘Find a wet nurse.’

‘I’ve found a nurse. It can have a bottle.’

‘Well then, there’s nothing to it.’

‘I still have to bear the thing.’

‘Strong girl like you.’ Richard Cuthbertson snapped his fingers. ‘Nothing to it. My poor sister was the runt of the family.’

‘Oh? I know nothing about her.’

‘Brains though, she had brains, and this mania for travelling, couldn’t be content with her own country, always off abroad somewhere. I couldn’t keep up with her travels.’

‘Did her husband?’

‘She didn’t have a husband, good Lord, no. Would have tied her down, stopped all that drifting round the world. She came back to base to have Sophy—a British passport matters even to people like my sister—just in time, she was practically born in the docks. She ran it fine.’

‘Where had she been?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. By the time I got the letter the child was born and my sister dead.’

‘Oh. Was there—’

‘Nothing. Padre chap had given her the last rites and she died. If the stupid fellow had stopped to think he might have gleaned a shred of information, but he was high like Floyer, keen on spiritual matters, R.C. now I come to think of it. Supposed he was doing the right thing. Fellow said, “Your sister died in a state of grace.” How did he
know?
Said she gasped out “Tell my brother”, then kicked the bucket. I’ve been wondering ever since what the message was.’ Richard Cuthbertson lifted the blind and peered out into the darkness. ‘Getting into London by the look of it. Indo-China.’

‘What?’

‘Looks as if she came from Indochina. Now what’s happened? Why are we stopping?’

‘Some delay.’

The train sighed, hissed, then all was quiet. Calypso tried to catch the words from a conversation in the next carriage. There was a long pause.

‘Life isn’t easy, is it?’ Richard looked at his niece.

‘Not really.’

‘I saw you today. I can’t help liking little girls, they are so pretty.’

‘Uncle Richard, you needn’t—’

‘I never hurt them. Didn’t hurt you or Polly, did I? Now Sophy’s growing up, growing away. People say Ruskin was a stinker but I don’t suppose he could help himself, probably had only looked at pictures and statuary. “Art” was different in his day, poor fellow was a virgin like as not, then when he married he got the hell of a shock. Were you a virgin when you married?’

‘Of course I was.’

‘No of course. Bet you got a shock.’

‘Actually—’

‘Ah, the train’s starting. Unexploded bomb on the line, do you think?’

‘There haven’t been any raids for ages.’

‘Nor there have. Funny effect trains have, one finds oneself talking as though one were in limbo, voicing private, er, really private ideas. Just ideas, of course.’