The House of Vandekar (36 page)

I remember that day so well, seeing her come up the steps with the sun shining on her red hair. Thinking, what a beautiful little child. How many intermarriages and cross-breedings had produced a genetic time bomb, destined to destroy itself and everyone connected with it. I don't know, Alice admitted. At that moment Diana gave her a sweet smile. I don't know and I don't care. I don't hate her. But I've no pity left. We can't afford her any longer.

My son, she thought. Nick's child, all that's left of his courage and sacrifice and hope for the future. I've let it happen. I've boasted of having guts, in the best American tradition, but I've given way to weakness, to pleading, even to the threat of his being disinherited. What use would Ashton be to him now?

They left the dining room at last. It seemed to go on for ever, one course, then another, the ritual serving, pouring wine, offering coffee and liqueurs. Richard watching openly as the brandy and the Cointreau came and went.

Alice stood up. ‘I think we non-drinkers could go into the library. If you don't mind, Hugo? Come on, Richard, darling. We might have a hand of cards.'

As she intended, it released her son. She slipped her hand through his arm. It tightened against his side for a moment.

‘Thanks,' he said. ‘How did you know?'

‘Because I'm not blind,' she answered. ‘It'll never happen again. I promise you.'

‘It doesn't make any difference,' he said.

They were alone in the library. Alice shut the door. For a moment or two they were alone. She looked up at him. ‘You're all right, aren't you, darling?'

‘I'm all right,' he said. ‘But I'm not going to lie to you, Mum. I haven't had flu. That's bollocks. Sorry, but it is. I've been drying out.'

‘Oh Jesus,' Alice groaned.

He went on, speaking very quickly. ‘I'd promised not to tell you. Di was terrified you'd blame her. It wasn't her fault actually. Nothing to do with her this time. It's way beyond that. I was happy, working, loving being down here. I just decided to have a Scotch, that's all.'

‘It
is
her fault,' Alice couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘I warned her if it happened again –'

‘I know you did – she told me. It
was
her in the beginning. I was mad about her, you know I was. But I couldn't keep up. I just couldn't go on and on … I thought drink would help. Stop me worrying, failing. Then I found out she was going off with someone else. After Nancy was born I felt like killing her. But I didn't. I just got pissed out of my skull instead. Now, whatever she does, it's the booze that matters.'

‘I'll help you,' Alice promised. ‘We'll fight it together. But she's got to go!'

He put his arms round her and hugged her. ‘No, Mum. Not this time. You've fought the battles for me all my life. I've got to win this one on my own. Maybe if I hadn't let you make it easy for me I'd have turned out better. I don't know. I'd like Dad to be proud of me for once. I've let him down more than anyone. And don't worry about Diana. That's my responsibility. Now, what do you want to play? They'll all come piling in any minute, so let's get the cards out, shall we?'

They played bezique. Alice kept her back to the room and her attention on the cards. She played so badly that Richard won.

‘There's a play on TV,' Fern said in a strained voice. ‘Brian, darling, come and watch it with me?'

‘If you like. What's it about?'

‘It's a thriller about a Russian defector.'

‘I've had the KGB up to here,' he said. He didn't move out of his chair.

‘I'll watch it with you, Fern,' Hugo said. He seldom watched anything except news programmes or documentaries. He had never opted for the ‘Sunday Night Play'.

‘Thanks, Daddy, but I don't suppose it's any good. I'll read for a while and then go up to bed.'

Alice felt Diana's presence beside her.

‘You said I could sleep near Nancy tonight,' she said, ‘in case she doesn't feel well.'

Alice glanced up at her. ‘The Pink Room is ready for you. There's nothing right next door, the beds haven't been aired properly.'

Diana said gently, ‘Oh, that's so kind. I hope I haven't been a nuisance.'

‘No nuisance at all,' Alice said coldly, putting the cards away in the box with the markers. ‘There's always one room ready in case we have a guest unexpectedly. You know that.'

‘Don't forget to order your glass of milk,' Richard reminded her. His face was pinched and bleak. Large black pouches had come up under his eyes. ‘Diana always has milk before she goes to sleep,' he explained to his mother as if his wife wasn't standing there listening.

‘Does she? She'd better tell Robert. He's about somewhere.'

‘I'll tell him,' Diana said. She was blushing at the contemptuous dismissal.

Alice got up and turned her back on her.

‘Good night, Dick,' Diana said.

He didn't answer.

She left the room and on her way out she chanced a pleading look at Brian. I've fixed it, I can come to you.

He didn't move, but one hand lifted an inch or so from the arm of his chair. It was their signal. He would get away from Fern. They had chosen their meeting place and fixed the time.

She went out closing the door quietly behind her.

‘I'll see if Nancy's all right,' Lily decided. She was very fond of the little girl. She had her mother's horrible red hair, but she wasn't like her in any other way. More like her grandmother, with the same direct way of looking at you, the same sturdy courage. If that pony chucked her off, she was up and on its back to try again.

Lily made her way down the long corridor. She was restless and glad of the excuse to get out of her room and away from her own thoughts.

She wasn't a superstitious woman; she had a healthy distrust of the horoscopes and fortune-telling that obsessed some of the maids. But that night the great house was a place of foreboding. The atmosphere was charged with some evil to come.

She opened the door and saw Nancy sitting up in bed, reading.

The little girl smiled at her. ‘Hello, Lily?'

‘Hello, Miss Nancy. Feeling better? How's your sore throat – doesn't sound too bad.'

‘It's not so sore,' the child admitted. ‘Grandmother gave me some Disprin.'

Lily looked round. ‘You're nice and comfy in here anyway. Can't have you giving the twins the sniffles. Do you want anything?'

‘No, thank you, Lily.'

She had Alice's generous smile. It turned Lily's heart over to see it. Reminded her of the days when Richard was a boy. She felt tears come up into her eyes and blinked them angrily away.

‘Well, you put your light out in a minute,' she said. ‘It's past nine o'clock.' It was nearer ten, in fact. The child should have been asleep long ago.

Lily went over to the bed and on an impulse bent down and kissed Nancy. Nancy hugged her tight. ‘Lights out,' Lily reminded her, ‘or you'll get me into trouble.'

‘I will. Just one more page,' Nancy promised.

Lily saw the title of the book.
Black Beauty
. She might have known. She went out, closing the door. Her lady. Richard, whom she'd helped bring up since he was a baby. The dear little girl in there. ‘She's brought a curse on this family.' She muttered it out loud.

She was on her way back to her room when she saw Robert, the new under footman, coming up the stairs with a glass of milk on a salver. She stopped and said, ‘If that's for Miss Nancy, I've told her to go to sleep.'

He went red. He was a gawky nineteen-year-old, recently recruited and still very unsure of himself. ‘It's for Mrs Richard,' he explained.

‘Then you're going the wrong way,' she said. ‘Don't you know they're in the west wing?'

‘No, Mrs Parker,' he answered. Lily, like the cook, was given the title of Mrs whether she was married or not. It ranked her at the top of the domestic hierarchy. ‘Mrs Richard is in the Pink Room tonight. Near Miss Nancy. She told me to put this in there for her.'

‘Oh.' Lily stood aside. ‘Well, you'd better get on with it then.'

He hurried off, and she watched him go. The Pink Room. That's where she'd sleep that night. Nancy's young nanny was sleeping in the room next to Nancy, with a communicating door. It was an excuse. She'd be able to slip out and meet him during the night. The Pink Room. There were ten empty bedrooms leading off that corridor. She walked slowly back to her own room. She had lied to Alice about having a headache. It was true enough now.

‘If you don't mind,' Hugo said, ‘I think I'll sleep in my dressing room tonight.'

‘Is your leg hurting?' Alice asked him.

‘A bit. I don't want to keep you awake.'

‘Do you want your painkillers?'

‘Yes,' he said, ‘I may as well take them.'

‘Be careful,' Alice warned. ‘You know how strong they are.'

‘After all these years, I don't need reminding,' he answered. ‘If I can't sleep I shall probably read.'

‘Hugo,' Alice said suddenly, ‘I think they've got some plan to sneak off somewhere tonight. She's never come to this side of the house before. That business about Nancy is just an excuse.'

‘Of course it is,' he said. He stood by the door looking back at her. ‘I knew you'd realize it. I only hope poor Fern doesn't. Are you glad you supported that marriage now?'

‘There's no need to be cruel to me because Fern's being hurt,' Alice responded. ‘Unless you want reminding about how little you cared about Richard. I never wanted him to marry her. If you'd backed me, he wouldn't have gone through with it.'

He turned the door handle. ‘Then we're both to blame,' he remarked and went out.

Alice kicked off her slippers. Lily had helped her to undress. She looked so pale, with her eyes screwed up against a headache, that Alice sent her off, refusing to let her put the clothes away. It wasn't just concern that motivated her; she hadn't wanted Lily near. She was glad Hugo had left her to herself, although she didn't believe his leg was troubling him. Like her, he wanted to be alone. To come to terms with a situation that could wreck the family. And try to think what to do to stop it. Richard had gone to his rooms in the west wing; Diana had slipped upstairs to the Pink Room. Fern and Brian had said good night and gone off together. If a rendezvous was planned, Brian would have to get away without Fern suspecting. Alice wondered bitterly how he was going to do it. Her daughter took sleeping pills. She disapproved, but she knew Fern kept them in case she couldn't sleep. He'd sneak out later.

I love him, Fern was thinking, lying in bed waiting for Brian to come out of the bathroom. I love him and I hate him. I hate him so much for what he's doing, and I don't even want to lie beside him. I don't want him to move and touch me even by accident. But he's not going to leave me. He's not going to show me up and let everyone know he doesn't love me any more. Nobody knows about it except Daddy. I couldn't bear it if Mother knew … She's no better, no wonder she gets on with him. She did the same, cheating on Daddy when he was away at the war. I've never forgotten that time when I caught her with that man Armstrong. She's a liar and a cheat, like my bloody husband. I hate them both … But I love him too. I might be able to forgive him, if only that wicked little bitch wasn't around any more. Every time I see her, I'll think of her and Brian, doing the things we did together. I wonder if it's back to front. She'd be on top, she's too small to take the weight of him …

Her mind ran wild with obscene images, torturing herself in a frenzy of jealousy. She threw the bedclothes back on an impulse, ran across the room and tried the bathroom doorhandle. ‘How long are you going to be?' she called out.

‘I'm coming,' Brian answered. Behind the locked door he had delayed and delayed, nerving himself to face her, to suggest, insist even, that she drugged herself to sleep so he could get away and join Diana. He had felt the atmosphere very keenly and was alarmed. They couldn't know. Nobody could know. They were ganging up on Diana, treating her with coldness and contempt, because she was alone among them. However they carped and manoeuvred internally, they were a tribe and Diana was not a member, any more than he was. Whenever it suited the Vandekars, they could turn in unison and step on either of them. Even Alice, who he'd hoped was above such an attitude, had been guilty. Diana needed him, and he wasn't able to refuse her. He wanted her too – he went hot at the thought of making love. His wife was outside, rattling the doorhandle as if he were a schoolboy being bidden to bed. He hadn't wanted to touch her; he had no overspill after Diana. He thought for the first time, perhaps I should get out of this marriage. If I can feel like this about someone else, it's over anyway.

Fern didn't get into bed. She moved round the room, touching things, putting them back. Photographs of the twins at every stage in their growing up. Photographs of herself and Brian in the old happy days. She'd tried to personalize this bedroom, to make it a part of their lives. She drew back the curtains.

It was a very dark night, but the life-sized marble figures of Cupid and Psyche were spotlit until the main lights were put out. It was her mother's conceit to illuminate them. She would. They must remind her of something, those naked figures in their erotic pose …

She dropped the curtain back as Brian came into the room. They got into bed together. He said casually, ‘You look tired, Fern. You said you didn't sleep well last night.'

How could I, she mused, when I was thinking about you and her?

‘Take a Mogadon tonight.'

‘You're always saying I shouldn't,' she countered.

‘Well, I think you could do with a good night's rest. You don't want to make a habit of it, that's all.'