Fantails (28 page)

John came in looking apprehensive. “An angry word?” His father drew him between his knees. “Good gracious, no! What made you think that?”

“When David’s Daddy says ‘I want a word with you’ it means he’s found who broke the window with the cricket-ball.”

“Well, if you ever break a window with a cricket-ball just tell me. Then I shan’t find out. It’s finding out that makes people angry! Now listen. I’ve got news for you two! Alison and I have been making plans. We’re going to be married. That means she’s coming to live here with you and me, John. And Jane, we both hope very much that you’ll come too, and make your home with us. We shouldn’t feel complete without you. Will you?”

Jane looked from Alison to Hugh, and back again. On her thin face between its two long pigtails surprise slowly gave way to a delighted smile. “Oh,
what
a good idea! Oh, what a
marvellous
plan! We’ll be a family!”

John asked, “Can Miniver come too, as well’s the kitten? And can Jane sleep in the bedroom with the roses on the walls? And can she bath me every night?”

“May I bring my books?”

“Of course! You may bring anything you like,” Hugh told her.

“Can
Miniver—” John began.

“Yes, she can. And Jane shall have the pick of all the bedrooms after Alison. And we’ll all live happily ever after! And now be off with you to bed. Good night!”

Jane asked, “May we tell Logie and Sherry?”

Alison said, “Yes. And tell them I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

The pair departed, Jane still beaming, John chanting at the top of his voice: “We’re going to
be-ee-ee
a famil
-ee-ee
!
We’re going to
be-ee-ee
a
fa
m
il
-ee-ee!”

“No need to worry about John’s future. Obviously he’s cut out for a future Poet Laureate! Would you give me some more milk?” said Hugh.

“I’m sorry. I thought you hated very milky tea.”

“I do, but this is too hot to drink quickly, and it’s a waste of time to sit at a tea-table when you and I have so much to discuss and settle. Alison, it was a bad show having to leave you just at that particular juncture. You’ve been so sweet about it.”

“But what else could you have done?”

“H’m. Quite a lot of women wouldn’t have seen it in that light! I’m glad I went, though. Poor old Howard knew me. And I was able to see to one or two things for Eileen, his widow, until her brother came this morning to be with her ... Oh, by the way, I rang up Lucia and told her about us. I felt that if she knew you were installed here she would give up any notions she might be entertaining about somehow getting hold of John. And the sooner she does that the better, for her own sake.”

“I knew you’d told her. She rang me up this morning. I thought it must be you when MacNeish came for me!”

Hugh stared at her. “She rang you up? What line did she take?”

“Well, I’m afraid she isn’t very pleased!”

Hugh frowned, wondering what Lucia had said, remembering her furious accusations of his own disloyalty to Melanie and herself, and how she had said that Alison was a scheming little gold-digger. Alison, of all people! What did she say?” he asked.

“Nothing that mattered. I’m afraid I rang off in the middle of it.”

“I’ll see to it that she doesn’t bother you in future.” He rang for the tea-things to be taken away, and put a match to the fire. “One can’t make plans that matter by an empty grate!”

The fir twigs on the hearth leapt into hissing, crackling, blazing life. Alison knelt beside him, adding cones from a copper scuttle MacNeish had filled with them.

“Have this chair,” Hugh suggested when the fire was going well.

“I’d rather sit here on the floor. Then I can enjoy myself, adding little bits and pieces. Playing with a fire is fun we haven’t had for months!” So Hugh sat in the chair himself and Alison leaned back against the arm.

“Have you been making any plans? For you and me, I mean?” he asked.

“Not really. Logie’s wedding seems to come between the present and everything beyond it.”

“It’s high time you began thinking more about yourself and less of other people!” Hugh said with energy, and forthwith began expounding his own ideas upon their future. Since they had decided to be married, what was there to wait for? Why not be married before Logie? He could see many reasons for it, none against it.

“But—there isn’t
time!”

“Why not? This is Thursday. We could be married by special licence one day early next week. You could all move over here at once. Logie would probably prefer to have her wedding lunch here rather than at the hotel.” Alison, accustomed for so long to making plans for other people, found it a distinctly agreeable sensation, in the midst of her surprise, to have matters settled for her.

Slowly she said, “No. ... I suppose there isn’t anything against it!”

“As far as I’m concerned, there’s everything in favour of it. And it would be as well for Logie to be here to keep an eye on Jane and John while we’re away. As things are I’m afraid I can’t manage more than a day or two. Several baby cases coming on. But later on, when Logie and Sherry are back at Crail, we might take Jane and John to stay with them while we go off on a deferred honeymoon.”

“But ... oh, but you don’t want to bother with a honeymoon! Honestly, there’s no need for that!” Alison’s face was turned away from him, looking into the fire, so that she did not see his expression. After a moment’s silence he took her by the shoulders, gently turning her to face him. “Alison, what made you say that? What extraordinary bee is buzzing in your little bonnet?”

She would not meet his eyes. “It’s only that I realise how difficult all this must be for you. And sad.”

“Sad?”

“Remembering Melanie—”

"Melanie?”
he cried. “But what has Melanie to do with you and me? Alison—what has Lucia been saying to you?”

She had thought there would be no need to put it into words. Now, after all, she saw it could not be avoided. And this way might be better, after all. “It isn’t anything to do with Lucia,” she told him. “I’m not a fool, and even if I were you’re not a hypocrite. So we won’t pretend. You want to marry me because there are so many pleasant things betweeen us—friendship, affection, many interests in common. We enjoy being together. On that foundation we can be very happy! But it would be spoilt if we weren’t frank and open with each other—if we pretended that you loved me. All that belongs to Melanie.”

His hands released her. “I had no idea,” he said. “I should have known—I should have realised.” Rising abruptly, he pushed back his chair, pulled up a sofa in its place, then taking her hands drew her to her feet. “Sit there where I can look at you!” he commanded, and sat at the other end of the sofa, turned towards her. Leaping firelight gilded their hands and faces, lit the strength and humour of Hugh’s mouth, the kindliness of his deep-set eyes; gleamed on Alison’s dark burnished head.

Hugh said, “I first met Melanie when she had the flu. Lucia called me in because she had panicked, and their own doctor was out when she rang up. Some friend gave my name ... There wasn’t much wrong with her— physically, that is. But in a very short time it became obvious to me that Lucia had so sapped her initiative and will-power that she was like a caged bird whose wings had lost their strength through the lack of use. If you were to depend on crutches constantly, your legs in time would lose their power to walk. That had happened to Melanie’s will. Lucia had thought for her, planned for her, made all her decisions for her for so long that she had practically lost the ability to do these things for herself.”

“But how could she have
begun
to let that happen to her?”

“She was only eight when their mother died—they were half-sisters—and Lucia took entire charge of her. And she must always have had one of those very sweet and docile natures that are apt to be too yielding for their own good. In the beginning I was interested in her as a patient. Then I grew fond of her, and went on seeing her as a friend, touched by her sweetness and growing reliance on me, until soon I loved her—There are many kinds of love. Finally, after a scene with Lucia that reduced Melanie to a state of collapse, I more or less kidnapped her. Took her to the Thellussens, where she stayed until we were married, three weeks later. Lucia never forgave me, though she made it up with Melanie, and on the surface she and I were quite good friends.”

“Melanie and I were happy together, very happy. I don’t remember ever having seen her angry or even ruffled. Always she was serene and sweet and pleased with everything. But—how can I best explain this to you without disloyalty to her?—when I found her, it was too late. I opened the cage door, but the bird could never learn to fly.”

Alison pictured in her mind that young, fair, fragile face in the photograph Lucia had shown her, untouched by any care or trouble. The face of the girl Hugh had loved protectively and tenderly, as he would have loved a child who turned to him, relied on him, depended on him, loved him. Not as a man loves the woman who is his comrade and his partner, shares with him responsibilities and burdens, comforts him in trouble, invigorates him with her courage while she leans upon his strength.

She held out both her hands to him. Hugh took them for a moment. Then he slid his arm behind her shoulders, drawing her close. “My dearest heart,” he said, “one loves a rose no less when summer comes, because of having loved a snowdrop in the spring!