Lettice & Victoria (11 page)

Chapter 8

V
ictoria had been in a state of undefined bliss. Apart from Lettice’s lapse during dinner, Archie and Harold’s visit was perfect. Beyond all hope.

After Roland and Lettice left the evening before and
Harold
had crept off to bed, Victoria and Archie stayed up talking until Maudie cried soon after five o’clock. Never before had a human creature been capable of removing the burdens of daily existence from her mind.

So, when the two men returned from the outing from which she had extricated herself, she was slow to notice any change in Archie.

It wasn’t possible that her wise, distracting friend of the night before could alter without warning.

When Archie’s peevishness became apparent her suspicion fell on Harold’s scarcely hidden jealousy. Lettice, she was
certain
, held no power.

‘I hope you haven’t arranged anything for this afternoon,’
Archie spat. ‘I, for one, intend to sleep. You kept me up far too late.’

His expression was mean and old-maidish; appearance
distorted
. The battle between the women was more than he could cope with.

Victoria took refuge in the kitchen. She stood back, hands against the distempered wall, spreading and flattening them, palms downwards, onto the paint behind her. She hoped that rising damp might cool the heat of her body. Then she turned from left to right placing first one hot cheek and then the other against the powdery wall.

Harold ate fast and wandered off before lunch was finished. Archie made no effort to be polite until he saw tears forming in Victoria’s eyes. As they ran over her cheekbones, he handed her his red spotted handkerchief – clean but for a silver fingerprint.

‘Does it enrage you to see a woman cry?’

‘Not in all cases. I would be sympathetic to the sight of a mother, say, crying over the death of her child.’

‘What about a father?’

He decided to charm her before resting. It would not take long. He went to her side. She hadn’t noticed Harold’s silver fingerprint on Archie’s handkerchief and tucked it away for future tears.

After her guests left Victoria waited for Lettice to ring.

‘Darling. Have they gone? A relief for one and all, I should imagine. I thought Archie was very difficult. Not at all his old self.’

‘It’s hard for me to say.’

‘Of course. Impossible. To us, knowing him as we do, the change was very noticeable. All that flattery is quite new.’

‘I think he was unwell.’

‘I can’t say that I suspected any such thing. Did he mention it?’

‘No. Not at all.’

‘There you are. He would have been sure to tell me if
anything
had been the matter.’

Back in Cambridge, Archie rang Victoria.

‘Just to let you know that we arrived safely. It was wonderful being with you. Harold is almost embarrassing in his praise of you. Quite rightly. You must visit us here after the New Year which, as you know, we are to spend at The Old Keep. We will certainly meet then. I will ring you again in a day or two.’

His voice was tired and the pitch high. She asked him if he was unwell.

‘You are very perceptive. I am not well. I sleep badly at night and can’t concentrate fully during the day. I realise that I’m
getting
old. My body feels old and the mechanical parts of my brain. I do forget everything. However, I won’t forget you or Maudie.’

Four days later, a letter arrived for Victoria from Harold. After thanking her for the nights he had spent at the stables, he went on to say, ‘Archie is rather unwell. I doubt if there is any cause for anxiety. He spent the day in bed yesterday but refused to send for the doctor or to take his temperature. I will let you know of any developments – good or bad.’

Harold was assiduous in providing Victoria with bulletins and rang her the day after his letter had arrived.

‘I regret having given you any cause for alarm about Archie. He is not really ill but very tired. There seem to be a large
number
of administrative jobs to do with the running of the college which are proving complicated and unpleasant.’

‘I’d love to see him. Would you let me know if he would like a visit?’

‘Yes. Of course. Most certainly. I will ring you again, if I may.’

‘Thank you. You are kind.’

‘No. No. Not at all. Not in the least.’

Chapter 9

V
ictoria took Maudie to lunch at The Old Keep on Christmas Day. She would have liked to stay at home but Belinda advised her to go ‘particularly this year’.

Maudie was wrapped in a thick red shawl ready for the
expedition
when Harold rang. Planting her on the floor, Victoria answered the telephone.

‘I want to tell you that Archie is now rather ill. The doctor, being cautious, has sent him to hospital. He says that it may be pneumonia. I don’t think there is any reason to worry and he is in extremely good hands.’

Harold gave her the name and address of the hospital that lay outside the city and where Archie had been sent the
evening
before.

‘I think a letter would be welcome. He is very depressed.’

Victoria wrote, quickly, before setting off.

‘Dearest Archie. I can’t bear you being ill. Please get better soon and remember how much we love you. What a horrible
Christmas. I hope you don’t get bothered by balloons and communion wine. I wish I could see you. I’m knitting you a scarf.’

Pulling a tartan cape trimmed with velvet ribbons over her shoulder, Lettice descended the tower steps. Forcing her arms through each gap, she stretched them towards the baby. ‘Let me take the precious bundle.’

They stood for a moment in the hall under a bunch of silver holly – removing coats and shawls. Lettice wore a shimmering Christmas frock. It came down from its hanger once a year and was worn throughout the special day. Roland looked at his life partner and thought she had bags of spirit. No one can deny that.

Lettice gave Victoria a lute in trust for Maudie. ‘It was my lute. Especially designed for me by a famous lute-maker. I used to play and sing to it.’

Alice picked the baby up and searched for signs of emotional disturbance.

Shortly before lunch, Lettice warned, ‘I’m going to ring Archie. We always talk on Christmas Day.’

Victoria, unable to bring herself to admit that she knew he was in hospital, asked, ‘Where?’

‘He’s sure to be at his lodgings. He always lunches
en famille
at Christmas. Probably some of his cousins and Harold. The usual, you know.’

She was gone, down the passage to the telephone and dialling furiously.

Back and mystified she said, ‘Very bizarre. No reply,’ glancing
at Victoria who had got out her knitting and was making a scarf for Archie. ‘Did he say anything –
en passant
I mean, when he stayed with you?’

‘No. He didn’t mention his Christmas plans then.’

‘Since? Has he mentioned them since?’

Joanna bounced in, ‘You’re not still talking about that prickly old Thorne, are you? He’s biting into your flesh.’ Pleased with her joke she turned to Victoria.

‘The baby’s spiffing but don’t you find her an awful bind?’

Signalling in lively fashion, Lettice led the party along a festooned hall.

‘Victoria. You must sit by me, then Maudie will be near the fire.’

‘I’ll feed Maudie. It won’t kill me for once.’ Joanna, with wisdom unexpected in one so young and brash, saw danger in seating her mother next to Victoria who quickly exchanged seats. Victoria longed to get on with the complicated pattern she knitted into Archie’s scarf and which was bundled into her bag.

The meal over, a restless and fidgety Lettice said, ‘I’ll try Archie again. It was silly of me not to remember. Often they go out for a drink before luncheon on Christmas Day. And, Roland, don’t forget to give Orpheus some special delicacies on this of all days.’

Chapter 10

H
arold, having eaten alone in an expensive hotel, went to Archie’s study at the lodgings.

He turned on a bar of the electric fire. There were things that Archie might like to have with him in hospital. He sat down on an armchair, still wearing a black overcoat, while his mind went round and round. He was organising an operation.

When the telephone rang he shuddered from shock.

It could only be Archie or, more alarming, news from the hospital. He took the receiver and held it with a damp hand as a voice said, ‘All form of Christmas nonsense from The Old Keep. Don’t say you have overindulged and rendered yourself silent. What pagan feasts you do go in for.’

‘No. It’s Harold. I’m sorry. Archie can’t, I’m afraid. Not now. Oh dear. I’m sorry.’

‘What did I say? I’m always telling him that he’s just a motherless boy at heart. I’ll have a word with him, sober or otherwise.’

‘No. He can’t. He really can’t. He’s rather bad. Ill, I mean. Rather ill. I was fetching some things.’

Lettice capped the mouthpiece and cried, loud and clear down the passage, ‘Archie’s ill.’ Uncupping, she wailed, ‘I’m sorry. I wish I’d known. Does anyone know – besides yourself, I mean?’

She squinted as she thought with sour suspicion of Victoria.

‘There hasn’t been much time. It was only yesterday. He went to hospital yesterday. I was going to let you know.’

‘I won’t be cross but, another time, you must do so at once. That’s what friends are for and, as I said to Archie the other day, friendship is so important. One needs to remember this more and more with the sad changes that go on around us.’

‘Oh dear. Of course. I know. I’m sorry. Oh dear.’

‘Don’t be hard on yourself. You shall come for the New Year whatever happens. Even if poor Archie can’t make it. I’ll have to say that you rang me instead of the other way round or it would look bad.’

Near to fainting, Harold sat down and wound a greasy curl around his thumb. How kind of Lettice to accept him, alone if necessary, for the New Year.

Lettice, tense with humiliation, returned to the sitting room and broke the news of Archie’s illness.

Joanna started to sing.

Unabashed by her stupefied audience, she continued.

‘Joanna. Go to your room. Stay there. Stay there for the rest of the day. Roland. Send her away.’

Victoria gathered up Maudie and said that she had to return the car to Belinda. She was desperate to finish the scarf.

In the evening, Joanna’s father insisted she should be released from her room.

‘Christmas comes but once a year,’ he reminded them.

‘After the way she behaved. On this day of all days. I know that youth will have its way – but disrespect is something else. This once I will give in and we’ll all try to remember somebody else who knew how to forgive.’

When allowed down, Joanna said, ‘I’m terribly sorry. It’s just that I’ve got a bit sick of hearing about him. I mean – it’s been going on all my life and now Victoria has caught the bug. But it’s awful that he’s ill.’

Lettice, well rehearsed, admonished, ‘I want you to learn, mark and inwardly digest this, Joanna. I am not the only one to notice – they said the same in your school report – that sometimes you forget that there are such people as your elders and betters. Archie definitely comes into this category and so, I hope, do I. Not that I recognise the generation gap.’

Wearied by her speech she sank back into the faded pattern of her chair cover.

Alice dwelled, ‘It’s odd how people with exactly the same background can turn out so very different.’

Roland patted her head and said, ‘Clever girl.’

No news of Archie came either to The Old Keep or to the stables until the following day.

Harold rang Lettice. ‘There has been a marked
improvement
but he is very weak. Very weak indeed.’

‘Any hope for the New Year?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’

‘Keep me
au fait
and don’t forget that you are welcome, even on your own.’

‘I’m sure Archie would like a letter.’ He gave her the hospital address.

Lettice wrote, ‘We are all distracted. Fond messages from Alice and Joanna – as from Roland and myself – that goes without saying. What can one say? Don’t allow yourself to worry about the New Year. I have promised Harold he shall come
n’importe quoi
and I am going to be very firm about your recuperation. You are to come here as soon as you are let out.’

Harold rang Victoria. ‘There has been a marked
improvement
but he is very weak. Very weak indeed.’

Before getting better Archie got worse and Harold continued to inform both Lettice and Victoria. He rang them each day and provided them with the same information and Victoria, fearing outbursts, allowed Lettice to believe she broke the news.

‘Too sweet. Dear Harold rings every evening. He knows how important we are to Archie and I’ve promised to hand all information on to you.’