Gently in Trees (2 page)

‘You’re rationalizing,’ Edwin said. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t like that at the time. I can remember you, you were full of high spirits – and Adrian strutting round you like a peacock.
He
wasn’t in love, just vain as Lucifer. But you were thrilled enough, at first.’

‘Just over-acting,’ Maryon said.

‘Ah-ah,’ Edwin said. ‘A genuine crush.’

‘Yes, but it wasn’t
love
,’ Maryon said. ‘I didn’t
give
myself to him. It was just selfishly exciting to get hold of Adrian. After all, he does have good looks, and money, and a big reputation
as
a director. And he was still married to a star, then. It gave me a professional thrill to catch him.’

‘You had feeling for him, Maryon.’

‘No.’

‘Now you’re ashamed at having to admit it. You would sooner I thought you were a gold-digger than that you were even taken in by Adrian.’

‘Utter bilge.’

‘Because you’re not really mercenary.’

She sent him a quizzical look, then smiled.

‘In the world’s eyes, anyway,’ she said. ‘I’m the image of a classic case. The actress who wasn’t going to make it, and who hooked her director instead.’ She looked glum. ‘And how they’ll crow now, all those lovely, beautiful people. The fool, that’s me, didn’t even insure. Because I could have married him, after the divorce.’

Edwin looked at her steadily. ‘So why didn’t you?’

‘Just as I told you. I wasn’t in love.’

‘Yet you’ve stayed with him.’

‘Why not? It’s the easiest way of earning a living.’

She got up restlessly, an urgent figure, and poured herself a shot of Dubonnet: stood while she took the first sip, then returned to her seat. She gazed at the glass.

‘That’s not true, altogether. Like most motives, mine are mixed. For one thing I’m lazy, I stick in a groove. And for another, I had to educate Jenny. But principally – I don’t know quite how to put this, not without sounding wretchedly smug – I felt vaguely sorry for Adrian. At the bottom, he’s such an unhappy person.’

‘Unhappy?’ Edwin echoed doubtfully. ‘Do you think the word has a meaning for Adrian?’

‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I think it does. He’s busy and successful, but still unhappy. There’s something missing in him, some point of contact. He daren’t let other people touch him. He’s buried away inside himself, out of reach, quite alone.’

Edwin looked incredulous. ‘And you. You reached him?’

‘No. But I did know the problem existed. And he felt I knew, and it was important to him. I was the nearest he could get to a real contact.’

Edwin still looked unbelieving. ‘Well, it is possible,’ he granted. ‘But all that’s over, now, in any case. He’s seeking his soul in other quarters.’

‘He won’t find it there.’

‘He won’t find it ever. You were the best chance the idiot had.’

‘Thank you for that, Edwin.’ She sipped from the glass; and the glass had a slight tremor.

Edwin drank too. Outside it was dusk, and the cedar down the lawn stood blackly brooding. The scent of honeysuckle wafted through the french windows, and the scent of stock: the night air was warm. Inside, a single lamp was lit. The lounge was suffused with dulled shadows. Adrian’s expensive furniture and pictures looked slightly oppressive, a well-dressed set. In the thick silence, one could hear the pipping of bats that hawked round the cedar.

‘Have I made very much difference?’ Edwin said, slowly.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It was over before.’

‘How long?’

Her shoulders moved. ‘A long time. Before, anyway.’

‘Does he know?’

‘Not from me,’ she said. ‘But that’s not to say he hasn’t guessed. But it’s all the same. He hasn’t been near me for – oh, since Jenny went to the High School. He’s probably had other women for that. Why not? I never bother him at the flat. He comes and goes. No – it’s the money I lent you that sticks in his throat.

‘But that’s paid back now. Thank heaven, I’m solvent.’

‘Just the same, it sticks in his throat.’

Edwin nodded. ‘And you’re convinced he’ll go through with it.’

‘Yes, oh yes. It will be this weekend.’

‘And then?’

She made another mouth.

‘You must come to me,’ Edwin said. ‘There’s room at the cottage, and room for Jennifer. Lawrence can sleep in his bit of a studio.’

Maryon didn’t reply; she sat deep in the settee, her glass poised near her mouth. Her eyes were empty, distant. Sitting like that, she looked tenderly girlish.

‘Maryon, I love you,’ Edwin said suddenly.

She flashed him a smile. ‘Yes. Tell me that.’

‘I love you,’ he said. ‘And to hell with Adrian.’

She smiled again, strangely, and finished her drink.

But then there were steps on the gravel outside, and Maryon’s daughter, Jennifer, entered. She was followed by Lawrence Turner, who was all beard and sensitive, large eyes. Jennifer looked moody. She had longer features than her mother and little of her mother’s outgoing nature. Now she stared round the room peevishly, seeking for signs of an alien presence.

‘So he hasn’t come, then,’ she said, grumpily.

‘Oh, he may come yet,’ her mother smiled.

‘No,’ Jennifer said. ‘He won’t come now. We shan’t see His Highness tonight.’

‘He could be latish,’ Edwin said. ‘I know he was directing today at Television Centre.’

‘No,’ Jennifer said stubbornly. ‘He isn’t coming. Nor tomorrow either. Not at all.’

‘You odd girl!’ Maryon said, surprised. ‘How do
you
know he isn’t coming? Lawrence, what’s got into my daughter? What have you been up to this evening?’

Lawrence had faded into a distant chair. Now he flushed behind his beard.

‘I don’t know,’ he said gruffly, nervously. ‘She’s been like it all evening.’

Jennifer stalked to the bar and poured herself a gin. She drank about half of it in a gulp. Then made a face.

‘
He
wants to marry me,’ she said. ‘To take me away from the squalor I live in.’

Maryon raised her eyebrows. ‘Is this true, Lawrence?’

‘Well, it was mentioned,’ Lawrence faltered. ‘But we’ve been through all that before. I realize it isn’t possible, yet.’

‘No, I should think not,’ Maryon said. ‘You’re too young and foolish, both of you. And you haven’t sold a single picture, yet, Lawrence – at least, not to anyone except your friends. What
a stupid
idea.’

Lawrence blushed deeper. ‘I wasn’t suggesting doing it tomorrow!’ he said. ‘And I don’t see why it should upset Jenny. It wasn’t something new I was springing on her.’

‘Then why is she in a mood?’

‘I don’t know!’ Lawrence blurted. ‘We’ve been for a stroll round by the bridge. I haven’t been able to say anything right.’

Edwin clicked his tongue sympathetically. ‘We’re all under a bit of strain,’ he said. ‘The axe is being sharpened for this weekend. Jenny was expecting to find Adrian here when she got back.’

Jennifer gulped the rest of her drink and came forward slowly to the centre of the room.

‘But that’s just the point,’ she said. ‘
I wasn’t
expecting him. I
knew
he wouldn’t be here.’

They all stared at her.

‘But
how
?’ Maryon said.

Jennifer shrugged her narrow shoulders. ‘Oh, nothing I can tell you. Just a sort of sadness. I’ve been feeling it all day.’ She dropped down suddenly on the sheepskin hearthrug, and sat with arms clasped round her knees. ‘I guess I’m psychic, that’s all. But I don’t think Adrian is ever coming back here.’

‘Just wishful thinking, my girl,’ Maryon said. ‘Adrian will never miss his big scene.’

‘No,’ Jennifer said. ‘It isn’t that at all, Mums. I just can’t explain the way I feel.’ She twisted the belt of her jersey dress. ‘Of course, I’ve been fed up with what’s going to happen. I’m not like you, taking it as it comes. I can’t
bear
the idea of him throwing us out. But this is different – I can’t help myself. I’m suddenly terribly sad about Adrian. I look at this room, all the things of his in it, and I feel he’s never coming back to them again. I don’t
want
to feel sad – because
I hate
him! But I do, I can’t help it.’

Silence for some moments. Jennifer sat staring.

‘Well, it could be like that,’ Edwin said, awkwardly. ‘Perhaps Adrian felt he played his big scene last week, and that any encore would be an anticlimax. So now he is retiring into Olympian disdain. After all, his lawyers can take care of it.’

‘Rubbish,’ Maryon said promptly. ‘That’s not Adrian. Last week was only a curtain-raiser. He was setting us up for something, a real humdinger. He’d never let a lawyer steal his thunder.’

‘He could be ill, or something.’

‘Adrian’s
never
ill.’

‘Well, it can’t have been an accident. We would have heard.’

‘Too convenient, anyway,’ Maryon said. She broke off, her eyes suddenly large. ‘Oh, it’s all rubbish!’ she said. ‘Jenny, you’re an ass. You’re not psychic, you’re just eighteen.’

Jenny hugged her knees, saying nothing. But continuing to stare, all the same. Then the bracket-clock struck, in the corner, and Lawrence got hastily to his feet.

‘I think I’ll go,’ he said. ‘I need an early night.’

Nobody pressed him to change his mind. He paused in front of Jennifer; Jennifer ignored him. He ducked his head clumsily, and went. They heard his footsteps retreating.

‘You’re not serious about him, Jenny, are you?’ Maryon said.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Jennifer said broodingly. ‘He isn’t such a drag all the time.’

‘But, my lamb, he’s penniless.’

‘So what are we?’

‘That’s
exactly
the point!’ Maryon cried.

‘Oh, hold on, now,’ Edwin said. ‘Lawrence has talent. He’ll make the grade.’

‘Anyway, you’re too young,’ Maryon fretted. ‘My goodness, just out of High School. And he doesn’t know what he wants either. You two are murder for each other.’

Jennifer jumped up. ‘Me too,’ she said. ‘I’m due for an early night as well.’

‘Wait!’ Maryon cried. ‘I want to
talk
to you!’

But Jennifer ran out of the room.

‘Oh, wretched girl!’ Maryon fumed. Then she caught Edwin’s eye. ‘And you, you egg her on!’ she nagged. ‘Oh, that girl needs a
father!
’

Edwin rocked his shoulders. He rose, stretched, and went across to the french windows. Outside, now, it was completely dark, with no moon in the heavy sky. The cedar was invisible. But, behind it, the sable reef of the Chase just etched a horizon.

Edwin closed the french windows and drew the curtains.

‘Do we take it he won’t be coming?’

‘Oh, I’m tired of thinking about it!’ Maryon said. ‘Nothing can change it. What will be, will be.’

Edwin came to the settee, where she sat, and stood looking down at her for a moment. Then he dropped down beside her, and laid his arm on her shoulders.

‘It won’t be so bad. I know I’m a frail reed, but I’m not hard up at the moment. And you’ll be getting shot of all this falsity. It never was worth it, Maryon, ever.’

‘Of course, it’s lovely to be noble,’ Maryon said.

‘In any case, it may not happen. Adrian may have a change of heart – or his precious Nina may drop him.’

Maryon shook her head firmly. ‘I know how actresses tick, remember? When he’s done all he can for her, she’ll drop him then. Not before.’

‘So then to hell with him and all his works.’

She gave a sudden, deep sigh. ‘Do you really love me?’

‘As best I can. Pretty much.’

She laid her head against him. ‘Someone ought to.’

He kissed her, warmly but gently, and she snuggled closer to him. For a while they sat so, quite still, listening to the subdued ticking of the clock. At last, she rested her hand on his knee.

‘No, he won’t be coming now,’ she said.

He placed his hand over hers. ‘Shall I stay?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Oh yes.’

And the night grew darker still, the warm, moonless, June night, with its odours of stock and honeysuckle, and the resin of many pines. And the night creatures went their ways, the timid deer from among the snowberry, the mousing weasel, the squeaking hedge-pig, the bloody stoat and the humping badger. Moths rustled where the night-flowers bloomed, the birds of the night chirred and hooted. Along the heath the twisted pines watched the silent, blank road. And some slept, and some waked, and some were sleeping that should be waking. On a dark night of June.

Yesterday the body of a middle-aged man was found in a remote part of Latchford Chase. The body was found in a vehicle.

Police are withholding the man’s name until the relatives have been informed.

It is understood that death may have been accidental.

Police have still not named the man found dead in the West Brayling area of Latchford Chase on Sunday.

The body was discovered by a Forestry officer when he passed the spot on a routine patrol.

The vehicle is described as a motor-caravan and it was equipped with a gas stove. The police are said to have taken possession of a gas bottle and a length of hose.

Yesterday a police spokesman said that death may have been accidental.