Familiar Rooms in Darkness

by Caro Fraser

  ‘Who’s the young man talking to Bella?’

  Briony glanced across. ‘That’s Adam Downing. Haven’t you met him?’

  ‘No. Should I have?’

  Briony gave Cecile a meaningful look. ‘He’s Harry’s biographer.’

  ‘My God.’ She stared at Briony. ‘I didn’t know Harry had one. When did this come about?’

  ‘I thought Harry might have told you. He took him on last autumn. Harry had this idea that if he got in first, with the biographer of his choosing, then it would forestall muck-rakers. A preventative measure, if you like.’

  ‘Well, there’s something to be said for that…’ Cecile fingered the scarf at her throat, gazing at Adam. ‘Downing, Adam Downing – I think I know the name.’

  ‘He’s a journalist. He does literary stuff, and the odd feature here and there. You’ll have seen his pieces.’

  ‘But why him in particular?’

  ‘Harry took a fancy to him.’ Briony’s eyes met Cecile’s. ‘And he seemed to feel that young Mr Downing was just the thing – high-minded, scrupulous, a little naive, and, of course, an ardent fan of Harry’s work. Someone who would do exactly as Harry told him.’

  ‘That,’ said Cecile, nodding, ‘is just what is wanted. But he is a journalist, when all’s said and done. And Harry’s not around now to tell him what to do.’

  Briony shrugged. ‘Harry’s steered him on a certain course, and I think he’ll stay on it. Much of the work must already have been done over the months before Harry died. Anyway, he’s not that kind of journalist. He doesn’t seem endowed with much investigative curiosity.’

  Cecile pondered this, then said with mild disgruntlement, ‘Well, if he’s writing about Harry, one would have thought he’d have been in touch with me by now.’

  ‘I gather he’s been leaving the family till last. Expect a phone call any day.’

  ‘At least I’m prepared.’

  ‘Now, you’re sure you won’t reconsider and come to Gandercleugh this afternoon? Lots of old friends will be there.’

  Cecile shook her head. ‘Kind of you, but I think I’ve seen enough faces from the past for one day.’

  Adam went back to Baron’s Court, packed a few things in an overnight bag, hastily finished off and faxed a piece which he’d promised to file with a magazine by the evening, and set off on the short drive to Chelsea.

  Bella was on the phone when he arrived. She opened the door, cigarette in one hand, phone to her ear, and waved him in, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. Adam went obediently through. The kitchen was roomy and cheerful, and overlooked a long garden. Adam stood looking out, waiting for Bella to finish her phone call, which was mildly argumentative in tone and appeared to be about clothing and dates.

  ‘Right,’ said Bella, when she had put the phone down. ‘I’ll get my bag.’

  They set off in Adam’s Fiat. Adam had decided to maintain the driver’s prerogative of preoccupied silence, requiring Bella to initiate conversation. But for half an hour or so she seemed quite happy to stare at the traffic, lost in her own thoughts.

  By the time they reached the M11, just as Adam decided he couldn’t face the prospect of an utterly silent journey and was about to speak, Bella sighed and said, ‘It is so wonderful to go on a car journey with someone who doesn’t insist on making conversation all the time, I can’t tell you.’

  Adam was bemused. The remark seemed to deserve some kind of a reply, but in itself suggested she would prefer him to remain silent. Steering a middle course, he asked, ‘Would you like some music?’

  ‘Yes, that’s a nice idea. Let’s see what you’ve got.’ She fished through his CDs for a few moments, and then put on Fauré’s Requiem.

  ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Adam.

  Bella leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Because Adam wasn’t sure whether she was asleep or just sulking, he didn’t like to say anything more. So much, he thought, for the warmth and intimacy which two people could develop during a two-hour car journey.

  Twilight was gathering by the time they reached Budleigh, the village which lay a mile away from Gandercleugh. Adam drove slowly down the High Street. Bella opened her eyes.

  ‘Whereabouts is this hotel?’ he asked.

  ‘At the end of the High Street.’ Bella wriggled upright in her seat. She pointed. ‘There.’

  Adam parked the car outside the hotel and went in.

  A moment later, he came back to the car. ‘They haven’t got a room. Mid May, and they’re fully booked.’

  Bella yawned. ‘It’s not a very big hotel. I suppose most of the guests decided to stay over. Don’t worry. I told you, Briony will put you up.’

  Adam said nothing. He didn’t really relish turning up uninvited in the first place, and certainly not to beg a bed for the night. He and Briony got on well enough, but… He tapped the wheel. ‘I don’t suppose there’s another hotel in the area?’

  ‘Not for miles,’ said Bella.

  Adam sighed and started the car.

  ‘Stop worrying so much about Briony,’ said Bella. ‘She’s not worth it.’

  ‘You sound as though you have mixed feelings about your stepmother.’

  ‘Not really. I just meant that she’s not as likely to make a fuss as you seem to imagine. I think Briony’s a good thing, generally. Charlie and I were grown up and had left home by the time Daddy married her, so she hasn’t had a great deal to do with us. But she made him happy, so…’ Bella shrugged.

  ‘I’m surprised your mother never remarried. She’s a very attractive woman.’

  ‘She was pretty much taken up with us when we were little. I don’t remember her going out with men, not then. I know she had a couple of relationships while we were at boarding school. Friendships? Affairs? Children don’t know, do they? There was one man she was seeing for several months… we met him one half-term, I remember. Alistair something. He looked like a possibility. Charlie and I even discussed what would happen if she married him, but he disappeared from the scene, and she never mentioned him afterwards. She’s always been very busy with work, has a good social life. She seems pretty much content as she is. I get the impression that one marriage was probably enough for her.’ She leaned forward a little as they came in sight of the stone gateway. ‘Here we are.’

  Adam drove up the familiar driveway to Gandercleugh, then turned his car round so that he was parked facing the road, ready for a quick getaway. Despite Bella’s airy assurances, he had his doubts about being made welcome by Briony. He had spoken to her only twice since Harry’s death, in relation to some letters, and her manner, though polite, had hardly been cordial.

  Adam followed Bella into the house, and at that moment Briony came out of the drawing room. She glanced in surprise at Adam.

  Bella, taking off her coat, leaned forward to kiss her stepmother briefly. ‘Briony, you know Adam Downing, don’t you? He drove me here.’

  ‘Hello, Adam. This is a pleasant surprise.’ Her expression was only moderately warm.

  ‘Adam was going to stay at the hotel in the village, but it’s fully booked. We can find a bed for him for the night, can’t we?’

  ‘Oh, I imagine so. Come through – everyone’s in the drawing room.’ Briony led the way, adding, ‘It’s just family and very old friends.’ Adam decided this was probably a reproach, though he wasn’t entirely sure.

  When he had secured a drink, Adam wandered to one side of the room and watched his hostess doing her stuff, vintage Briony Nugent. Given the circumstances and the nature of the gathering, she had had to dampen down her famous sparkle to a sorrowful shimmer, but she none the less exuded remarkable charm. Her guests adored her. Warmth and sincerity clung to her like perfume. What Adam admired most, he decided, was the way she kept the deceased Harry to the forefront of the proceedings, even though she knew she was the star. It was a remarkable performance.

  Adam had met most of Harry’s old friends before, but there we
re one or two new faces. He chatted and made arrangements to speak to them at greater length. All this time he was aware of Bella’s presence in the room. She acted like a gentle magnet, drawing his eyes back to her time and again, suffusing him with the giddy pleasure of infatuation. It was, he knew, immensely disloyal to Megan to feel like this. Not that it counted. It was rather like having a crush on Julia Roberts, or someone similarly out of his league.

  Bella came over. ‘I noticed you working the room. Was everybody nice to you?’

  ‘Mmm. People like talking about Harry.’

  ‘About themselves, you mean. Still, I suppose it amounts to the same thing.’

  ‘Will you be able to make time to talk to me about your father over the next few weeks, d’you think?’

  ‘If you can pin me down. I’ve got a new play opening soon, and I’ll be pretty busy with rehearsals. You’ve got my number – give me a ring.’

  Adam nodded in the direction of Charlie. ‘What about your brother?’

  She glanced across. ‘Why don’t you ask him? He’s had a fair bit to drink, so maybe now’s as good a time as any. Have you spoken to my mother?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ll have to get in touch with her soon. She and your father seem to have remained on very good terms after they split up.’

  ‘Oh, immensely civilized, that’s my family. Good at keeping up appearances.’

  ‘Right,’ said Adam, who realized he was becoming somewhat too fascinated by the delightful contours of Bella’s upper lip. ‘It’s getting late, so I’d better start trying to make some headway with Charlie.’

  Charlie was talking to relatives. They were all sitting down, Charlie standing up. He looked as though he was enjoying himself, performing for his elders. Adam could imagine him in court, the same confident, assertive, rather overbearing figure. He waited for a lull in the conversation, then introduced himself.

  ‘I’m Adam Downing.’ He put out his hand and Charlie shook it.

  ‘Bella’s friend?’

  ‘Well, more your father’s friend. Bella and I have only met a couple of times.’

  Charlie frowned. ‘Downing, Downing… Did you know my father very well?’

  Adam would have liked to kick him. ‘Yes. I was working on his biography when he died, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Not quite the same thing, you know.’

  ‘With him. We were working together.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘It’s something he very much wanted me to complete–’

  ‘I take it this was authorized?’

  ‘I have his notes. Tapes. I can assure you, your father was fully cooperative. It was his idea.’

  Charlie nodded, then glanced suspiciously at Adam. ‘And?’

  ‘And I would very much like to talk to you about your father at some point. If you can find the time. I’m sure you could make a valuable contribution to the book.’

  Charlie reflected for a few seconds and then said, ‘I don’t see why not.’ He took a hefty swig of his drink and smiled. The charm of his smile was quite transforming. He looked very like Bella, only big and masculine. ‘I take it Bella is happy with this?’

  ‘Yes. She seems very willing to help.’

  ‘Mm. And my mother?’

  ‘I haven’t spoken to her yet. I intend to. Of course, I have to rely heavily on your family’s goodwill. When your father was alive–’

  ‘Yes, yes, I can see your problem.’ Charlie studied Adam quite candidly for a few long seconds. Then he fished inside his jacket pocket for a card and handed it to Adam. ‘Give me a ring in chambers.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Adam pocketed the card.

  Charlie nodded. Adam nodded in reply, and they parted.

  By ten-thirty, Adam reckoned he had made the most of the evening’s opportunities. A large number of the guests were already departing – presumably the local hotel was the kind of place where they kicked out the punters and pulled down the shutters at eleven on the dot – and Adam hoped he’d be able to get to bed fairly soon. Even though tomorrow was Saturday, he had an article to write which he’d been putting off for weeks, and he’d have to make an early start.

  ‘Since you’re staying,’ murmured Bella in his ear, ‘you can do some clearing up. Come on.’

  Adam helped Claire and Bella to clear up plates and glasses. Briony was at the front door, in the throes of extended leave-takings.

  ‘Just put things on the table and by the sink,’ said Bella. ‘Someone will see to them in the morning. Come on, I’ll find you somewhere to sleep.’

  Bella showed him to a bedroom at the end of a corridor. From a shelf in a closet she took some bedding, and handed it to Adam. ‘There you are. Sleep tight. Bathroom’s next door.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Of course–you’ve stayed here before. Well, goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ said Adam.

  He made up the bed, went for a pee, washed his face and cleaned his teeth, and undressed. He got into bed and flicked through his notebook, looking at the handful of names and addresses he had culled that evening. What would they have to tell him? Probably not much more than their own version of what Adam already knew. He brooded on this. He didn’t want this book simply to be a gathering-together and regurgitation of known facts. There must be people out there who knew another reality, not just the writer and his successful career. He wanted to make the silent voices speak. But first he had to find them – if they existed at all. He sighed and chucked the notebook aside.

  He was just about to switch off the bedside light when he heard the gentlest of knocks on his bedroom door. As he glanced up, Bella came in, closing the door behind her. She was wearing a short robe, and beneath that, he noticed, only a pair of silky, flimsy knickers. That much he absorbed in the few seconds it took her to cross the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled. Adam was too astonished to know what to say. He was trying not to look at her breasts, only half-hidden by the sides of the open robe. He failed and his glance slipped, catching a tantalizing glimpse of nipple. He looked hastily back at her face.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I came to see you. I was thinking about you.’

  He nodded, nonplussed. He longed to stretch out a hand, though whether it was to touch her breast or pull her robe closed, he wasn’t sure.

  ‘I was thinking that you’re nice. That it’s a waste, having you two rooms away, and not making love.’ She stretched out a hand to brush a lock of dark hair from his forehead.

  Adam said nothing, incapable of sensible thought.

  She leaned across, put her mouth to his, and kissed him. He scarcely moved, kissing her back only a little. After a few seconds she drew away. He just lay there.

  ‘Don’t you want me?’ Her eyes held the glimmer of faint amusement, and behind that, fear.

  ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘What is it, then?’ She spoke very quietly.

  ‘I don’t think you should do this. Give yourself away so easily. Why would you want to do that?’

  She frowned a little, then her smile returned. Though the fear had not quite gone away. ‘I said. Because I like you. Because I can tell you like me. Because I thought it would be fun.’

  It would be fun all right, thought Adam. He closed his eyes for a second. ‘That’s not what I meant. I meant you should think more of yourself. You’re worth more than this. You hardly know me.’

  ‘Prude.’

  ‘No.’ He paused. ‘I live with my girlfriend.’

  She said nothing, plucking at the bedcover with her fingers. He stared at her, trying to see past the loveliness, the injured air, to whatever insecurity had brought her to his room. Did she always give herself so easily to any man she vaguely liked?

  ‘Oh, well.’ She shrugged, about to rise.

  Adam put out a hand and held her arm. He leaned forward and drew her to him, and kissed her for a gentle, brief and dizzying moment. Her response was too warm for him to handle. He drew away.

 
‘That was just by way of compensation. To me, I mean. For not–’ He stopped.

  ‘Taking advantage of me?’ Her voice was wry.

  He nodded. ‘I had hoped to elevate you to pedestal status and leave you there.’

  ‘Oh God.’ From where he lay, Adam could see the swell and curve of one delectable breast, the nipple stiffened. If she didn’t go now –

  She stood up and pulled her robe together.

  ‘Don’t be cross,’ said Adam, studying her face.

  Bella ran a hand through her cropped, soft hair, shook her head, and left the room.

  Adam lay awake for a long time, reflecting on the odd occurrence, trying to derive some consolation from the knowledge that at least he had done the right thing.

  *

  Next morning, Adam awoke at six to the steady cheeping of the alarm on his mobile phone. He dressed and went downstairs quietly. The household still slept. The front door had been locked by some process which Adam couldn’t fathom, so he went through to the kitchen. Pausing to leave a note on the table for Briony, thanking her and explaining that he had to leave early, he walked through the scullery to the back door. The large metal key was still in the lock. He turned it, and stepped out into the chilly dawn. He made his way to the front of the house and crossed the gravel driveway to where his car stood. The engine coughed a couple of times before starting, and he glanced up at the house, hoping he hadn’t woken anyone. But no one appeared. He put the car in gear, and headed back to London.

  3

  Three weeks later, Adam was sitting with a photographer in the lobby of a West End hotel. They were there to interview an American Pulitzer Prize-winning author who had kept them waiting for over half an hour. Adam picked up a copy of Hello! from a nearby table and flicked through it. Bella was featured twice in Diary of the Week – once, attending the premiere of yet another lottery-funded British no-hoper movie, and then at the opening of some Sloaney friend’s new jewellery shop. You could see why photographers loved her. He stared intently at both pictures of her. In one she was laughing with two other girls, and in the other she was talking to an actor called Bruce Redmond, saying something in his ear. He was smiling. It looked very intimate.