by Caro Fraser
‘Oh, bugger,’ said Bruno, when he saw Adam standing in the doorway.
Megan just looked at him. It crossed Adam’s mind that she looked the sexiest he had ever seen her, naked, hair all over the place, in bed with another man. He felt neither outraged nor upset. Just surprised and rather stupid. He had absolutely no idea how he ought to be reacting, so he decided not to.
‘I just came to get a couple of things,’ he said, going over to the table and picking up some of his papers, while they watched him wordlessly from the bed. Then he went out, closing the door behind him, and walked back towards the house. He stopped on the terrace, aware of the unpleasant thudding of his heart. Of course he cared. It was a supremely nasty experience to find your girlfriend in bed with some other bloke, even if it was Bruno, and even if you had been intending to end the relationship anyway.
He put his things down on the table near the pool and sat down. After several moments of contemplating his own position, he began to wonder just what was going through Megan’s mind. How would she deal with this? He sat with his notes, unable to formulate any of his previous thoughts about the biography. They had fled entirely. He watched a small lizard scuttle up the white-washed wall of the house near the roses, then disappear behind the shadow of a shutter. He looked up as Megan approached. She was wearing Bruno’s shirt over her bikini, and her expression was remarkably composed, he thought.
‘I didn’t want you to find out this way,’ she said. The note of apology in her tone was edged with the threat of defiance. She was ready for a scene, if he wanted one. He most definitely didn’t.
‘How did you want me to find out?’
‘I was going to tell you. It’s only over the past week or so that I’ve realized – well, you know yourself that things haven’t been right between us recently.’
‘So you decide to hop into bed with the nearest available man?’
‘That’s got nothing to do with it.’
‘I’m afraid it has.’
‘These things happen.’
‘How true.’
‘I wasn’t going to say anything until we got back to London. Nothing happened till today. I didn’t want it to. Not till I’d told you.’
‘Quite convenient, you feeling unwell and wanting to stay behind, when everyone else was going out.’
She was silent for a few moments, then she sighed and sat down. ‘If you want me to feel ashamed – well, all right, I do. I didn’t know how to let you know, not while we were here… I thought you might pick up the signals.’
He looked at her. She was handling this very dispassionately, quite unexpectedly so. ‘I did,’ said Adam. ‘I was going to say something as well when we got back to London. I hadn’t quite realized you’d be making a preemptive strike.’
‘I told you. Nothing happened till today. Nothing important.’ She sat with her hands clasped between her bare knees, looking contrite. He could read relief in every aspect of her body language. ‘Bruno says he’s going back to London. I think it’s best if I go with him. We can get a taxi to Bordeaux. I’ll ring and see if there’s a flight this afternoon.’
‘That’s very organized of you. What would you like me to tell Bella?’
‘I don’t know. Just thank her for a great time. I’ll send her some flowers or something when I get back to London. You know, to say thank you. It’d be embarrassing if either of us stuck around…’
‘It might,’ agreed Adam.
She stood up. ‘Right… I’m sorry, things happening like this. I’ll move my stuff out of the flat when I get back.’ She hesitated, looking down at him. ‘We had quite a good time, didn’t we?’
‘Not bad. We should congratulate ourselves on ending things in such a civilized way.’
She smiled shakily, looking a little moist round the eyes. Adam was not unfamiliar with the female inability to leave any break-up untouched by sentiment. A kind of emotional embroidery carried out at the last moment. To forestall it, he looked back fixedly at his notes and said, ‘I’d go and ring the airport, if I were you.’
When she was gone, he fell to wondering what exactly she would expect of Bruno once he was back in his natural hedonistic environment. Not too much, he hoped, holiday romances being what they were. Then again, he told himself, it simply wasn’t his problem.
The others came back around mid-afternoon. No one noticed the absence of Megan and Bruno. Adam, however, thought it best to mention to Compton-King that his protégé was heading back to London.
‘Surprised he stayed as long as he did,’ said Compton-King, who was lounging in a chair beneath an umbrella by the poolside bar. ‘Doubtless his stash ran out. At least he got some proper food and a dose of Vitamin D. Boy generally never sees the light of day, so far as I can tell. I’ll have to be getting back myself, in a day or two. Mucho business to attend to. What about you?’
‘I’ve done what I came to do. Ready when you are.’
‘What about Megan? She seems to be rather enjoying herself.’
‘Ah, well… Here’s something I didn’t mention. She’s flown back to London with Bruno.’
Compton-King raised his sunglasses. He gave Adam a penetrating and inquisitive stare. ‘As in –?’
‘As in – I went to the annexe to pick up some papers and found them in bed together.’
Compton-King gave a low whistle. ‘God, I’m sorry. I was the one who brought him along. I do feel somewhat responsible.’
‘Don’t. It was pretty much over between us, anyway.’
Compton-King settled his glasses back on his nose. ‘Randy little bastard.’
‘It takes two.’ After a moment Adam asked, ‘So, when do you want to go?’
‘Where are we now? Sunday? What about Tuesday?’
‘Fine. I’ll go and give Bella advance warning.’
Bella was in the hammock with her script. She glanced up as Adam came across the grass.
‘I like this one,’ she said. ‘It’s a good part. Not very big, but it’s a step closer to Hollywood.’
Adam sat down on the grass. ‘Is that what you want?’
Bella let the script flop on to her chest and sighed. ‘I suppose. Ultimately. I’d be lying if I said I had a great and abiding love for the English theatre. That’s not my particular pose. I like being in movies.’
‘What’s the part?’
‘Girlfriend of a small-time drug dealer. The drug dealer becomes a police informant, but she doesn’t know this, and – well, it’s complicated, but quite funny. As I said, a small part, but it’s got some good lines.’
‘So you’ll be off to Hollywood.’
‘I don’t know. We’ll have to see.’
Adam lay back on the warm grass and gazed upwards, narrowing his eyes against the sunlight breaking through the shifting leaves. ‘Megan and I have split up. She’s gone back to London.’
It was several seconds before Bella spoke. ‘That was a bit sudden.’
‘Not so very. I told you, we hadn’t been getting on for a while.’
‘Did you have a major row?’
‘No, nothing like that. It appears she’s found true love with Bruno–’
‘Bruno!’
‘–so they’ve flown back together.’
‘Whew.’
‘She says goodbye and thank you and all that stuff. Anyway, it breaks the party up somewhat, and I’ve decided to head back with Compton-King on Tuesday.’
Bella put her script to one side and leaned over the edge of the hammock, so that she was looking directly at Adam. ‘It’s been fun having you here. I’m sorry you have to go so soon.’
‘I’ve finished my article. I have to get it in by the end of next week. Besides, I need to do some work on the biography. I want to see your stepmother and tie a few loose ends together, and then I can start turning it into a proper book. I still haven’t talked to you about your father, not properly. Nor Charlie. Maybe that’s best left till we all get back to London.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Now is probably
as good a time as any to tackle Charlie. He’s been having heart-to-heart talks with Derek, exchanging childhoods. I’d catch him while he’s in confessional mode, if I were you. You’ll have all tomorrow.’
‘You could be right.’ He glanced at her. ‘What about you?’
She crinkled her eyes. ‘I think I’ve probably told you all there is to tell, one way or another.’
‘I still need to get it on tape.’
She nodded. ‘I was thinking – would you be interested in having all the letters he wrote me while I was away at school, and while he was in prison? There are quite a lot of them.’
‘I had no idea. Yes, I’d love to see them.’ He hoped she didn’t have the idea that there might be some sort of trade-off, that he might submit to pressure not to publish certain details of Harry’s life in return for a few letters, interesting though they might be.
‘Just so long as you tell me which bits you’re going to use, if any. Just so that I know.’ She smiled. ‘I do trust you.’
To this, Adam found he could say nothing.
The next day Charlie sat down with Adam at one of the small tables on the lawn beneath the trees and talked about his father. It was unexceptional stuff – childhood reminiscences, recollections of teenage holidays with Harry, occasional incidents and arguments between father and son. Adam knew he would use only fragments by way of illumination of Harry’s character as a father, but he could tell from the way that Charlie talked that the exercise was greatly therapeutic for him.
‘It’s funny,’ said Charlie, when they seemed to have exhausted most of his memories, ‘but knowing that I’m adopted throws light on some of the things Dad did, the way he was… At least, I think it does. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it makes no difference. He was never very authoritarian, never particularly paternal, in any strict sense. Treated us like equals. Maybe that’s why my friends liked him so much. He used to spend a lot of time talking to them. He liked me to invite them over in the holidays.’
‘Really?’
‘He seemed to enjoy having teenagers around, said he found our conversation amusing. There was one friend in particular, James Gifford. His people lived in Venezuela, so he used to spend most half-terms with us.’
‘Where was that?’
‘At Gandercleugh. Bella and I spent Christmas, Easter and half the summer holidays with Mum, and the rest of the summer and all our half-terms with Dad. He really liked James. I remember I had to spend one half-term in hospital with appendicitis, but he invited James down for the holiday on his own, anyway.’
Adam told himself not to be so damned stupid. It could have been nothing untoward. Just friendly behaviour towards one of his son’s friends. None the less, he found himself saying, ‘Have you kept in touch with James? It might be interesting to hear what he remembers about Harry.’
‘I haven’t seen him since we left school. I’m sure I could put you in touch with him, though.’
‘That might be interesting,’ said Adam.
Bella strolled across the lawn. She was wearing denim shorts and a linen blouse so thin that Adam could trace the outline of her breasts. She smiled at Adam and Charlie. ‘You realize you’ve been out here for two hours?’
‘It’s been very useful,’ said Adam. ‘I think we’re about done.’ He leaned forward and switched off the tape.
Charlie rose and stretched. ‘I’d better go and find Claire. See you later.’
‘Bye,’ said Adam. ‘And thanks.’
Bella sat down in Charlie’s chair.
‘How did that go? Was he forthcoming?’
‘Very. Tell me, did any of your friends spend the holidays at Harry’s house when you were a teenager?’
‘Not that I can think of. Why?’
‘Charlie said Harry liked having teenagers around, that he would encourage Charlie to invite schoolfriends to Gandercleugh for the holidays.’
‘Mmm. Sometimes. They were always Charlie’s Uppingham friends, though. Dad used to like getting a group of them together to talk about politics and art, get some great heated discussion going. He was always very interested in what young people were thinking and doing. Perhaps he just found boys more stimulating than girls. He never talked much to my friends.’
‘Charlie mentioned one boy in particular, someone called James Gifford. Do you remember him?’
‘Oh, James. Yes, I had a real crush on him,’ laughed Bella. ‘He was very good-looking, looked just like George Michael. He came to Gandercleugh quite a lot. I think his parents lived abroad. He and Dad got on very well. I remember getting jealous of the fact that James used to go off and have long walks and conversations with Dad, but not with me. Charlie found the politics and art bit rather boring, I think. Why do you mention James in particular?’
It didn’t remotely cross her mind, Adam realized. He felt a pang of conscience. ‘Just that I thought he might be someone else to talk to. You know, how a young person outside the family saw Harry.’
‘If you can track him down. I don’t think Charlie’s seen him in a few years.’ She stood up. ‘I’m going into the village to pick up some things for tonight. Richard’s cooking a special going-away dinner of magret de canard, by the way, and I rather think he expects you to be on hand in the kitchen.’
‘Right, I’ll go and don my apron. See you later.’
Dinner, which was entirely of Compton-King’s devising and extremely good, went on until very late. Adam, knowing he had to be up early the following day to make the journey home, didn’t drink a great deal. He felt a certain diffidence in the company of the others. Megan’s abrupt departure with Bruno had left him feeling somewhat self-conscious, and he was more subdued than usual. He was preoccupied, too, by thoughts of the biography, anxious for the opportunity to talk to Compton-King alone about it. That would come tomorrow in the car, he supposed. He sat quietly, observing the dynamics of the little party, struck by the difference a few days had made. Charlie’s abrasiveness had mellowed. His conversation, though boisterous as ever, now included Derek, took account of him, and he and Derek and Bruce seemed to have formed an easy triumvirate. Bella had achieved some sort of rapport with Derek’s daughters, and she was making a distinct effort to get on better with Claire. Adam suspected that her original animosity towards Claire had been born out of nothing greater than jealousy that her beloved twin brother had found someone to marry, and no doubt that would sort itself out with time.
Compton-King proposed a toast to Bella and Charlie, and then announced that he proposed to mark his departure with a midnight swim. Everyone else helped to clear up the dishes, then Emma and Leanne went to bed. Bruce, Derek, Charlie and Claire retired to the house for a game of poker, while Frank took himself off to the bar at the end of the pool to drink a nightcap and shout encouragement to Compton-King, by now on his eighteenth length.
Adam left the kitchen and went into the garden, where he found Bella snuffing out the candles on the dinner table. Without their soft illumination the night air was ghostly and dim.
‘I just wanted to thank you, in case I don’t see you in the morning,’ said Adam. ‘I’ve had a great time.’
‘Except for Megan leaving.’
‘Up to and including that.’
She said nothing for a moment, just picked at some wax on the table. ‘It’s been a strange week,’ she said at last. ‘Not at all the holiday I’d expected.’
‘I hope having extra guests hasn’t been a problem.’
‘Not at all.’ She smiled.
‘At any rate, it’s been a success as far as Derek and Charlie are concerned.’ Small talk, standing there saying something for the sake of it.
She nodded. ‘I think so. I hope so. I don’t know where it goes once we all get back to London. I just hope they both continue to make the effort.’
‘I think they will. I think it’s done them both a lot of good.’
‘I suppose we should all be grateful to you, really. You were the one who brought it about, with your spirit
of journalistic enterprise. Just think how it might have been if you hadn’t found out. Charlie and I could have gone on forever not knowing we had another family, thinking what was false was true.’
‘Would it have been so false?’
‘Of course. Don’t you think so?’
‘Well, I have very confused notions about truth at the moment, and its uses. I’m just glad it’s worked out for you.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, I’d better get to bed.’ He nodded in the direction of the pool, from which shouts and splashes could be heard. ‘I have a suspicion that I’m going to have to do most of the driving tomorrow. I’m not sure Compton-King’s going to be in a fit state.’
Bella laughed. ‘He’s wonderful.’
He gazed at her for a moment, then said, ‘So are you.’ He leaned forward and kissed her gently. She responded, putting a hand around his neck and drawing him towards her. It lasted only a moment.
‘Goodnight,’ said Adam, and left her standing in the darkness of the garden.
Adam went upstairs, cleaned his teeth, threw his belongings into his bag, then undressed. He took his most recent notes to bed with him and lay there, reading. There was a light knock at the door, and he looked up. Was he expecting her? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was just the recollection of that first time she had come to his room that made it seem so natural. He watched her come in. Unlike that first time, she was still dressed. She closed the door and leaned against it.
‘Déjà vu,’ said Adam.
‘Not quite,’ said Bella. She crossed the room, sat down on the edge of the bed, took his notes from his hand and laid them on the bedside table.
‘This definitely rings a bell,’ said Adam.
She leaned forward, and he drew her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly and absorbedly for a long time.
When at last they drew apart, she asked softly, ‘Why don’t you send me packing? What’s so different about this time from the first time?’
Adam contemplated her face, drew a line with his finger along each of her cheekbones. ‘The difference is that I didn’t know you before. Though I probably loved you.’
‘Even then?’
‘Even then. From the moment you came into your father’s study, and ever since.’
