The Sugar Mother (22 page)

The guests were being encouraged to examine the book. The daughters handed copies to everyone.

“Oh Lord!” Daphne groaned as Fiorella advanced with an
armful. Watching the girls, in particular the Fairfax girls, Edwin, thinking of Leila, could see how she could never fit in with them. She did not know the movements and the glances and the phrases these girls knew. She would be shy and awkward and unhappy in their company. Even though she was older than they were and experienced now, because of him—he lifted his shoulders a little and smiled to himself—with them she would be like a clumsy fourteen-year-old. Turning from the girls he watched one of the guests, glass in hand, gaze at the front cover of the book. She turned it over and gazed at the back cover, managing at the same time to continue her conversation without seeming to notice either the book or her surroundings. She had been, Edwin noticed, talking to her next-door neighbor as if the two of them had not seen each other for years.

The arrival of the great ships was an occasion…
Edwin, opening the book, read a line and was immediately reminded of his own arrival at the port. He had looked then beyond the sheds, which were the customs sheds, to what seemed a flat land completely devoid of distinguishing features. Very few ships came now, he reflected, except the container ships, and who would throw streamers and sing to a container? There had been times, he remembered, when crowds flocked to the wharf to meet a ship. It was as if people went there hoping that someone they used to know in another part of the world would appear, as if by magic, waving with exultant recognition from the crowded rail.

The guests were beginning to move back to the other rooms. Edwin noticed the woman again picking up the book and staring at the front and at the back of it without any apparent comprehension, before replacing it. Edwin put down the copy he had been holding and followed Daphne. The historian remained standing, still in the same place. No one at all had spoken to him.

“You know, Teddy,” Daphne said, turning back to Edwin and lowering her voice, “I just stopped Paulette and Erica
from paying you a surprise visit, lunchtime last Thursday. They'd been having their hair done and the place where they usually have tea was crowded. They thought they'd drop in on you with a box of cakes. ‘You know it'll only upset him,' I told them. ‘He might be in the bathroom,' I said.” She had to remind them, she went on telling Edwin, what an odd creature he was, so easily put out, disturbed—highly strung, “like a thoroughbred race horse,” Daphne added as if to lighten the “odd creature” description.

“You managed to put them off then,” Edwin said in a teasing tone.

“Yes, I did,” Daphne said. “I had to invite them back for tea to ask their advice about this hideous dress. No advice, of course, could do anything to it but they made me put it on while they drank tea and ate all my bread, which I was obliged to toast. And another thing.” Daphne paused and waited for his full attention. “The next dinner,” she said, “is at your place, Teddy. What d'you intend to do? What will you do about Leila and her mother?” She was serious, quite red-faced with accusation. He felt like teasing her. While she was looking back at him, waiting for his reply, he leaned across to where Paulette was standing close by and gave her a long and exaggerated kiss.

“Long time no see!” Paulette said, hanging on to him and pressing herself close.

“
À bientôt
.” Edwin released himself and caught up with Daphne.

“They've seen
Murder on the Nile
twice now,” he said, “and a rerun of
Mary Poppins
, but
Hamlet
's back and Leila's mother says she has always admired Shakespeare. And it is a very long film. She seems,” he added, “to be, in her own way, quite an educated woman. Everything is arranged—”

“It certainly is,” Daphne interrupted. “
He is a haven where I shall find safe mooring….
Leila's mother is onto a good thing. Perhaps I shouldn't say this, Teddy, please don't be annoyed, but you've got to open your eyes! It's Medea and
Aegeus. You've given Leila's mother a kind of insurance policy. She'll get from you all she'll ever need for future sanctuary. Look it up if you don't remember it.”

“That's a bit steep, Daph.” Edwin laughed. He began to feel a return of his earlier uneasiness. He drank quickly and helped himself to another glass as a waiter went by. He did not want to think he was being used, being lived on, was parting with considerable amounts of money and letting his work and his writing fall into the background. Certainly Leila acquiesced readily as if made by her mother to do certain things, but that could not really be how it was. He helped himself to another drink as the waiter came by from the other direction. Leila, in bed, seemed to want him very much and he was sure that he pleased her. She had no sophisticated ways but it was unendurably pleasant to teach her. He could not mention this to Daphne.

“Bottoms up!” he said, draining his glass. His voice, he thought, showed his lack of confidence. When he had, earlier this evening, asked Leila to come to the study she had simply said, “All right.” That was all. He wondered now if that was enough.

“Leila's mother wouldn't have a clue about the
Medea
,” he said to Daphne, “and she won't know Aegeus. You've been around teaching that stuff for too long.”

“That's not the point,” Daphne, unlike her usual self, seemed to snap. “It's ludicrous, Teddy.” She sounded as if she was going to cry. “This whole silly business,” she said, “has come between Cecilia and me. This—this thing you are doing. I can't write to her, really write to her, to Cecilia, don't you see? I can't be myself when she phones. And I put off phoning her and that hurts her. She hasn't heard anything from you for simply ages and I tell her you're busy. I know your life is your own affair but, Teddy, without wanting to be I'm in it too. I can't deceive Cecilia, I really can't. She's my friend.” She turned away from Edwin and seemed to stumble through the guests, many of whom were dancing, not exactly with each other but up against each other. They danced facing each
other and, turning, they went on dancing, facing someone else. For a moment Edwin watched the dancing and then he tried to follow Daphne. How could he have said what he had just said to her? He had sounded just like that Tranby woman. The dancers were pressing on all sides. He could see Daphne, her cheeks scarlet, making for the door awkwardly. He must go after her and tell her he never meant to say what he had said. Something had brought him down to Tranby level. Once after the impertinent remark about the colors of the Elizabethan court, when the Tranby woman was still only a newcomer on the staff, she had said the same words to him:

“You've been around teaching that stuff for too long!”

“Excuse! Please!” He tried to elbow his way between the moving bodies. “Excuse!”

“Hey! Male menopause!” Paulette was dancing, two steps forward and one back. “What's wrong? Dance, man! Dance!”

Edwin gave her the tiniest wave. Because the Tranby woman knew how to sigh and flutter her green eyelids and because she had then a head of red curls she could toss, she, in her own words, got away with murder. He'd heard her, years ago, telling how she'd been able to raise her marks. An A for a lay, that sort of thing. Vulgar. The kind of cliché people in departments everywhere repeated. Eff or Eff. Fuck or Fail. Without wanting to he muttered the phrase now, disgusted with himself.

“Hey!” Paulette, breathless with exertion, was too brightly animated. “Dance, man! Dance!” Edwin shook his head. She took his arm and hung on to it, still laughing. “Help! I can't breathe!” She kept on laughing. “Oh! This music!”

“Move along,” someone behind them said. “Move! Rattle yer dags! Move, there!” The dancers surged forward and then back. “Move! Move!” Dippy Fairfax this time had musicians, a group.

“Look at the little dark one with the guitar,” Paulette said, “the way he's right in there! Wow! Teddy,” she said, “let's go to your place. We could go. I'll tell Buffy you're taking me home. He's over there.” She jerked her head. “He's playing
cards—they've made some tables. Let's go to your place, now.” She pressed herself close. “Now,” she said. “I've been waiting for you all night.” They moved together. Edwin, in his practiced way, steered her through one of the doors to the terrace and on towards the end, where there were no lights. Somewhere there, he remembered, there was a chaise longue.

“I've been waiting for you,” Paulette said again. Her hands soothed and her lips were cool and competent. “Not possible,” he said, his lips in her hair, “not possible…” But Paulette did not hear. She drew his face down to hers once more. He tightened his arms about her, knowing her need.

They would not come out at home. There would be no throwing off of bedclothes and Leila's mother would not come, fastening her dressing gown, down the hall to meet them. If he took Paulette into Cecilia's room, into the blue and gold, into the clean prettiness, Leila would not spring from his bed and rush in upon them. All would be quiet and discreet, he was sure of this. Paulette's quick eye might pick up some small detail of other people's lives in his house, but at one o'clock in the morning, and with other things on her mind, she might not. It surprised him that during the embrace he was calculating the possibilities. He returned Paulette's kisses, surprising himself again, wondering if he had had too much wine and knowing that he had.

“I've had too much to drink,” he confessed. “I might disappoint you. Most certainly I might.”

“Oh heavens, Teddy, darling! Do stop being so
intellectual
.” Paulette raised her scented arms above her head and clasped the back of his neck so that her breasts were offered. “Come on, Teddy!”

He allowed a certain helplessness to take over and he felt her warmth through the thin material of her dress.

They heard the guests calling his name and hurriedly straightened their clothes. Dippy Fairfax was making his way slowly along the dark terrace. Repeatedly he called “Edwin” into the dark garden. It was Cecilia, on the phone, reverse charge, from London.

Edwin took the call in Dippy's study. It was more an office really, stacked from floor to ceiling with files and boxes. The small space was crowded with people, all wanting to talk to Cecilia. They made way for Edwin and gathered close to hear the one-sided conversation.

How was the party she wanted to know. Why hadn't he telephoned? She would have been insane with worry if Daphne, except that Daphne…Was he okay she wanted to know. He told her yes he was all right. He told her he was sorry. Time flies he told her. Did he still love her she wanted to know. He told her yes yes kiss kiss nibble nibble yes yes he loved her. Love you love you he told her. She said she could hear the party people cheering. He must sure be having a great time. Yes a great time he told her. Did he miss her she wanted to know. Very much he told her. Vorwickl she told him lost several pounds. No not money she told him
avoirdupois
. He told her Good. Vorwickl she told him ate a cocoon in the muesli. No he said. Yes she said. She said it was delicious even when she knew it was a cocoon. Good old Vorwickl he said. He supposed Vorwickl had gray hair now. Not quite she said. Flecked. He supposed her hands inspired confidence. She told him yes and her hair reached below the backs of her knees. Good old Vorwickl he said. In a bun she told him with hairpins. Neat he said. They were she told him Vorwickl and herself within walking distance of Artificial Insemination and Abortions. Ectopics he asked. No she told him that was Canada. London she said they went shopping. Good he said. Lovely fur cape. Heavenly she told him. See through? he asked. Of course she said it cost the earth. He didn't mind did he she wanted to know. He had said to buy something. Of course he said kiss kiss love you love you. She said she didn't know she had it on. Light he said. And warm. He told her he was pleased. She told him she had a little fur hat. Round and snug she said. Russian? he asked. Omsk Tomsk and Vladivostok she said. How was the surprise she wanted to know. Growing he said a lovely golden melon he said. Oh lovely she said. Here's Daphne he told her passing the receiver to Daphne
who tried not to take it. He dived through the guests and made for the door.

 

Leila had left the desk lamp on in his study. The little dog was asleep at the foot of the bed. As Edwin gazed at the sleeping dog and the sleeping Leila he swayed slightly.

O a cherubim
, he said in a thick low voice,
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven…

He knew he had had too much to drink. He was not home early as promised. It was almost three o'clock. He made a small movement towards the bed, disturbed by the suddenly remembered lines. He was not Prospero. Not tonight, never; it would amount to…He sought for the word, not finding it on purpose. He steadied himself, ashamed, at the side of his desk. Leila must have tried to keep herself awake for his return. There was a book under her cheek and he supposed she had brought in the puppy to play with for the same reason. She looked very young and soft and desirable. He knew he should explain to her that she must go to her own room and that she must look forward to her own life. He had been very selfish, he must tell her; his own life must continue for the short time it had left. She would forget him; he must explain this. The thought was too terrible. He leaned down to her soft warmth, unable to stop himself.

Leila woke as his lips caressed her hair and her cheek. She sat up, pink where the book had creased her cheek.

“Oh,” she said, “I'm hungry.” She smiled at Edwin. “I'd like some bread and butter,” she told him, “and a hard-boiled egg.”