Honeyville (23 page)

‘It’s a mess,’ he said, reappearing with the coffee soon afterwards, his words slightly obscured by the cigarette between his lips. ‘Aunt Philippa sends a girl around once a week. Or she did. But I think the poor darling has become rather horrified –’ he dropped onto the couch opposite mine – ‘by my Californian ways. I’m not quite certain
what it
was
she found. Or didn’t find. But she hasn’t come back. Not for ages, now that I think about it.’ He looked at me, his expression serious. ‘Do you think I should do something … Perhaps try to find a replacement? Or tidy things up? Is it unpleasant? Inez thinks it’s becoming unpleasant. She may have a point.’

I looked at the pandemonium surrounding me: the ash-filled hearth, the array of empty whiskey glasses on the mantelpiece (no food remnants, thankfully; Xavier never seemed to eat), the books and papers and clothing on every surface. The entire room now resided, it seemed, under a thick film of dust … I remember how it had looked the first time I’d seen it; so elegant and warm and snug: a little corner of heaven. ‘She may indeed have a point,’ I said.

A silence fell. It was absurd: I had sat in this parlour, in its different states, more times than I could count – and often, since I tended to arrive before she did in the afternoons, without Inez. But during those visits it was always understood that she was on her way, and so the comforting assumption that I visited primarily as a friend of hers could always be sustained. Now, here we were, together. He had counted me as a friend. And I had crossed town to call on him. I felt self-conscious and so, I sensed, did he.

We gazed at one another silently, he with his slim legs crossed at the knee, sleek and limber, smoking his cigarette, considering me; and me, wondering if perhaps now was the time to take up the habit myself. He made smoking look elegant, like everything he did. I fiddled with my skirt, and tried to remember why I had come.

‘Oh hell,’ he burst out. ‘Shall we forget about coffee? Drink something a bit wetter? I know it’s early, but I feel like bourbon.’

‘You don’t have things to attend to?’ I asked. ‘I mean, business matters that require … sobriety?’

‘Hardly!’ he said, looking glum. ‘At any rate, I’d much prefer to spend the morning getting stewed with you.’

On a normal day, there was plenty I might have been doing myself. But this week, in Trinidad, everything was in suspension. In any case, on a normal day, it being only ten in the morning, I would still be asleep in bed. I said: ‘Well then. For heaven’s sake, let’s get stewed!’

And still, we couldn’t seem to find much to say to one another. It was the one and only time, and it lasted no longer than it took to reach the bottom of our first drink. The next couple of hours slid by, bourbon on top of hot chocolate and fruit compote and sweet pastry – it seemed to settle very nicely. There was no need for a fire – which was fortunate, since I don’t suppose either of us would have spared the effort to build one. We sprawled opposite one another, just as Inez and I used to do during the long winter, when the cottage was hers; and through Xavier’s tobacco-stained windows, the spring sun shone and warmed us.

We talked about Inez, mostly. After that, somehow, after we had exhausted the subject of Inez (her new love, her old love, her ability to leap from one to the next, her mistaken decisions regarding munitions stores and tea parties), I found myself telling him about William Paxton, and then, though I never intended it, describing the moment when I believed he was about to propose to me.

‘A nice girl in Denver?’ he laughed. Whenever Xavier laughed, his eyes watered, and by the time I had finished my story, there were tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘Oh, you poor girl! He had the nerve to say that to you?
This town is too full of vice!
… I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, Dora. Do you suppose he sensed your disappointment?’

‘Not for a moment,’ I said, smiling. ‘What do you take me for? Actually, he asked me if I didn’t agree with him, about Trinidad being too full of vice these days,’ I giggled, ‘as he lay right there on top of me.’

‘Ha!’

‘But he was a good man, you know. And I was very fond of him, though I must admit, I had no idea – all that time he was helping the Union, and I had no idea.’

‘I’m sorry, Dora,’ he said, wiping his eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have laughed.’

‘Yes you should,’ I said. ‘It was funny. I would have been offended if you hadn’t.’

I told him about William’s promise to settle money on me. ‘And no, it wasn’t the first thing that crossed my mind when Inez said he was killed. But I admit it came a damn close second.’

‘I’ll bet it did,’ he said. He wasn’t laughing then.

I shrugged. ‘That’s life, huh? And so here I am. Still working. What about you? What brought you home to Trinidad after all these years? What are you running away from?’

‘Nothing.’

I laughed. ‘Of course you are. So what is it? Money troubles? Maybe you owe somebody a ton of money? Or maybe you’re in trouble with the law? Or maybe your heart is broken? Or maybe it’s all three? It’s got to be something, Xavier. I watch your face sometimes, when you think no one’s looking. So does Inez. I swear you’ve got some battle raging inside your head worse than any we have going here in Trinidad.’

‘You’re drunk.’

‘I certainly am.’ I must have been too, because I persevered. I received the sense that, whatever it was that troubled him, it was on the tip of his tongue, only waiting to be expressed, as if he longed to tell someone about it.

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ I coaxed him. ‘What’s eating you, Xavier? Are you going to hide out in this town forever, shuffling little sheets of paper around, drinking bourbon for breakfast? I’d be happy for the company. But …’

He sat up a little. ‘I need,’ he said abruptly, ‘to get back to California. That’s what I need.’ I waited but he didn’t say any more.

‘So what’s stopping you?’ I asked.

‘Oh.’ It was a low groan. ‘We were on the point of shooting our first series. We raised the money. We had a beautiful Swedish girl playing Agatha.
The Adventures of Agatha
,it was called. We had outlines for the first twenty-five instalments. Twenty-five little two-reelers. We were ready to roll, Dora. It was going to be …’ He fell silent.

‘So what happened?’

There followed a painful pause, so long I wasn’t sure if he would ever speak.

He said: ‘I’m ashamed to tell you.’

‘
Me?
’ I laughed. ‘And after what I just told you?’

‘It’s far worse …’

‘In heaven’s name. What is it? Did you kill someone?’

‘No!
No!
’

‘Did you steal from someone?’

‘No! On the contrary – my business partner has stolen from me. After the wretched thing made the
Times –
it was such a scandal, and I didn’t have a leg to stand on. They named a few of us, Dora. Not all of us. My friend John Lamb. He couldn’t stand the disgrace of it. He poisoned himself. Whereas I … well, I simply ran away here back to Trinidad.’

‘What kind of scandal?’ I asked him. But by then, I had almost guessed. The name John Lamb stirred faint memories. I had read about him. A scandal. That’s all it was. A handful of California fairies, caught up in some kind of honeytrap … I probably wouldn’t have read about it, all the way in Colorado, except for the self-poisoning. John Lamb had been an upstanding church member, businessman, family man, arrested for taking part in sex orgies. ‘You were arrested?’ I asked him. ‘Along with John Lamb?’

He blushed a deep, deep red. ‘
You heard about it?
’ he whispered.

‘But I didn’t read any mention of your name,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m certain of it. Or I would have remembered.’

‘No. Well, the other names probably didn’t go any further than the Los Angeles papers. But – you know … that was far enough.’

‘Were you sent to jail?’

‘For a month. And our investors – all our investors, one by one, they heard about it, and pulled out.’ He smiled and reached for another cigarette. ‘No more
Adventures of Agatha
. The world will have to struggle along without. For the time being at least. I still have the photo-plays of course.’ He nodded at the jumble of papers on the floor between us. ‘But my Swedish Agatha is long gone. Back to Ohio, I think. The stories in the papers horrified her that much. And while I was licking my wounds in Long Beach County Jail, my partner took the business off me …’

‘I don’t suppose there’s
much
of that I can laugh at really, is there?’ I muttered.

‘Ha! You can laugh at the whole damn lot of it, so far as I can see. Except for poor John … It was a sting, Dora. We were set up. It was a private party. Not a party for all tastes, I grant you … And the police came bursting in and threw us in their loathsome paddy wagon. So. Maybe that was funny, actually. A paddy wagon full of screaming Marys, half undressed and completely hysterical … terrified out of our tiny wits.’ He smiled. ‘And now here I am. Trying to make sense of it. I miss my life back in California. I guess I’m just waiting to feel bold enough to go back. Start all over again.’

‘I’ll miss you when you leave.’

‘Well come with me then,’ he said. He threw it out there, in just the same tone of voice he might have said, ‘Want another drink?’ But he looked across at me, eyebrows raised. ‘What’s stopping you, Dora? You could find a job – doing something … I don’t know … Until you found something else.’ He chuckled. ‘Inez told me about the singing classes. But that was never going to work in a small town like this. What were you girls thinking? You would have been exposed in a week!’

‘Rather faster, it turned out. And, by the way, there aren’t any bits that are funny in that.’

‘Oh
come on
! How can you say that?
Mrs di Leopaldi
. Sure, it’s funny. It’s hilarious! You could work for me. If you liked. How about it? Once I got myself back together.’

He looked as if he meant it. He did. And I felt a rush of something wonderful – hope – and I was about to say so, but there came a loud knock on the door, making both of us jump. And the moment passed.

It was Inez. Xavier let her in. She brushed past him into the room, muttering about the time it had taken him to answer. ‘I just want to fetch my—’

She spotted me loafing on what had once been her couch. ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘
You’re
here.’

I felt as if I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. I sat up. ‘You woke me so early, Inez,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know what to do with myself. How was Cody’s mama? Did you find her?’

‘Cody’s mother?’ Inez looked from one to the other of us. ‘I didn’t speak to her,’ she said. ‘I didn’t see her. I didn’t lay eyes on her. She has left town. Apparently. Or she is in hiding somewhere, with her grief.’

‘OK,’ said Xavier slowly. ‘So what’s up?’

‘Nothing is “up”,’ she snapped at him. ‘Nothing at all. I just came by to fetch that little purse I showed you all yesterday. With the little hidden pistol. I brought it back here. I wanted to take it.’ She looked around her, under seats, behind the drapes. ‘I’m going with Max … He needs someone to show him round Cokedale. I said I would and I thought … Ah!’ she said, pulling the purse from behind the cushion Xavier had been resting against all morning. ‘Here it is.’

‘What do you need that for?’ Xavier asked her. ‘You’re not intending to shoot anyone, I sincerely hope.’

‘If you bothered to put your nose outside your window any once in a while,’ she snapped (just as her aunt had), ‘you might realize it’s gotten kind of dangerous out there …’

‘Thank you sweetie,’ he muttered. ‘I wasn’t aware—’

‘Anyhow, it’s just a precaution. That’s all it is. And, by the way, I can’t hang around. Unlike you two, apparently, I have a lot to do today, and besides, Max is waiting for me. I have given him a list of ladies to come to the tea you both despise so much,’ she added defiantly. ‘And that slightly dreadful girl – Eunace? Iris? The reporter girl from last night … She’s delivering the invitations this afternoon.’ There was a brief silence.

Suddenly Inez jumped. ‘
What was that?
’

We stared at her. She looked terrified.

‘What was what?’ I asked.

‘You didn’t hear it? Is someone else here? Is someone in the back?’

‘No!’ said Xavier. ‘Of course there isn’t. What in hell is eating you?’

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I have to go.’ She stepped back towards the front door and then stopped, turned back to us again. ‘By the way, I don’t think you two should be spending so much time together,’ she said.

‘What Inez?’ I laughed. ‘Why on earth not?’

‘Inez, darling,’ Xavier said. ‘I think you should sit down, baby. Why don’t you sit down just for a bit? I’ll make you a cup of coffee. Or warm milk or something maybe? Something to calm you down. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but you’re acting even crazier than usual.’

‘It’s not healthy,’ she said to me, as if Xavier hadn’t spoken. ‘That’s why not. And you know it. Anyway. I’ll see you both later … I’m going to tell Max and everyone to meet up here. Xavier, would you mind? I think it’s a lot more fun. I’m sick and tired of the Toltec.’

‘Why? What’s wrong with the Toltec suddenly?’ I asked her.

‘Nothing. People interrupting. I don’t like it. That’s all.’

‘It’s because you’re avoiding Lawrence,’ I said. ‘Isn’t it? Honestly – I begin to feel quite sorry for him.’

‘I’m not avoiding him,’ she said. ‘Why would I do that? Of course I’m not avoiding Lawrence. I don’t care a fig about Lawrence, I told you that. I
told
you. Why won’t you listen to me? Lawrence
Who
?’

I laughed. ‘Poor man.’

‘I don’t see why you say that,’ she replied. ‘He obviously doesn’t give a fig for me either. After all,
he
was the one who wouldn’t see me. He was the one who broke my heart.’

‘Mended now though,’ Xavier chipped in. ‘Thank heavens.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘It has absolutely nothing to do with Lawrence O’Neill. I just think it’s nice, when strangers come to town, if folks show them inside their homes every once in a while. But if you won’t have them here, then you won’t. Seeing as this is now your house, Xavier, there’s not a great deal I can do about it. Well. Then I guess it’s the Toltec tonight all over again. Well.’