Familiar Rooms in Darkness

by Caro Fraser

  He gazed at her speculatively. This indignation, this outrage, had nothing to do with Harry’s reputation. Just like Cecile, she didn’t want her private life explored and exposed. The papers being what they were these days, that would probably happen eventually, anyway, biography or no biography.

  ‘I want to tell the truth, because I think the truth is important. Don’t you?’

  When she spoke again, her manner was contained, her voice low. ‘No, I don’t. I think what’s important is that living people shouldn’t be made to suffer. That’s what’s going to happen, Adam. If you have any conscience, then I beg you – leave it alone.’ Her voice was frank in its appeal. The taut, pretty features had slackened and aged a little. ‘Our marriage was more real than you imagine. He was just a complicated man.’ She put a hand to her forehead. ‘I can’t see it would do anyone any good for it to be known. Apart from the damage it would do to me, think of the hurt it would cause Bella and Charlie.’ To this he said nothing. She’d touched on the one aspect of this whole thing which remained unresolved in his heart. After a few seconds she asked, ‘Well? What do you intend to do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Adam. He rose from the chair.

  ‘I promise you,’ said Briony, ‘I will do everything in my power to make sure none of this sees the light of day. Don’t underestimate me.’

  Adam, who had reached the door, turned and regarded her. ‘It’s always a pity when people do that. Underestimate others, I mean.’

  And with that he left and drove back to London. A long journey for such a short visit, but to have his speculations confirmed, it had been worth it.

  Briony’s subsequent phone call to Cecile was terse and to the point. Cecile made an initial show of dignified elderly bewilderment, but Briony was having none of it. ‘Oh, come off it. You’ve known about Harry’s little goings-on for as long as I have. Longer.’ Silence at the other end. ‘Haven’t you?’

  Cecile sighed. ‘Why do you think I divorced him? I actually had to pay that wretched model to lie.’

  They discussed it for a few minutes, but neither could see what there was to be done about Adam and the book. ‘We’ll just have to wait until we see the proofs,’ said Briony. ‘Then talk to our lawyers.’

  ‘What makes you think we’re going to get to see them?’

  ‘Because when they read the manuscript, Downing’s publishers will realize they’ve got a time bomb on their hands. It’s in their interests to be as circumspect as possible. They won’t particularly welcome a lawsuit. Better to find out in advance what you’re likely to be up against. That’s why we’ll see the proofs.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right… By the way – it’s only just occurred to me – something that might be of interest.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Charlie told me a few days ago that Bella and Adam Downing have a bit of a thing going. Not that Bella’s said anything to me yet.’

  ‘Well, now,’ said Briony thoughtfully, ‘that is interesting. And useful. Don’t you think?’

  Cecile rang Bella and asked her to drop round, ostensibly for a fitting for the dress she was to wear as one of Claire’s bridesmaids.

  At the end of the trying-on session, when pinning and measuring had been completed, Cecile said to Bella, ‘Darling, there’s something I need to discuss with you.’

  Bella laid the half-finished dress across Cecile’s work table. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s about your father’s biography.’

  ‘What about it?’ Her mind shifted to Adam. She wondered whether she should tell her mother about herself and Adam. Perhaps not yet. She sat down at the table and took the mug of tea which her mother handed to her.

  Cecile sat down on the other side of the table. ‘Well, Briony and I have decided to withdraw our cooperation.’

  ‘It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? Why, for heaven’s sake?’

  ‘It turns out that Adam Downing intends to embark on some quite unnecessary and unpleasant speculation about your father. It’s unfounded, of course, and we have done our best to persuade him not to print it, but–’ She lifted a hand and let it fall. ‘I thought it best to tell you, and Charlie.’

  Bella gave an embarrassed smile and sipped her tea. ‘Mummy, if this is about stuff that Harry got up to before you and he were married – well, I do know about it. Adam’s told me. And I don’t think the revelation that he had a passing gay phase is going to cause a great sensation. I imagine it’s not an unusual thing among creative geniuses. I don’t think you and Briony should let it worry you.’

  ‘We wouldn’t – if that was the extent of what he intends to say. Unfortunately it’s far worse than that.’

  ‘Worse? Worse – how?’ Bella couldn’t believe that Adam hadn’t confided in her, whatever it was. Not after everything that had happened.

  ‘Oh, you know how it is when someone famous dies. Scandal-mongers turn up ten a penny, envious people from the past, possibly some with grudges…’ Cecile sighed. ‘People are prepared to tell all kinds of lies – who knows why? Anyway, what was, as you rightly say, a trivial instance in Harry’s past has been blown into something more than that. There are people who are apparently prepared to say that it went on far longer – that he went on having affairs with men, that he went around seducing schoolboys–’ Cecile broke off, shaking her head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I know – horrible, and quite fantastical. The suggestion is that he led some appalling double life that neither Briony nor I knew about. It’s simply staggering.’

  ‘That’s unbelievable! And you say Adam’s actually going to put this in his book?’

  ‘So he says. I hate to say this, because I know he’s your friend, but I suspect his reasons are mercenary. He seems prepared to believe anything sensational, if it’s going to help to sell his book. When someone’s dead, they can’t defend themselves, after all.’

  ‘I can’t believe he didn’t tell me this… Are you quite certain?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Briony had a rather unpleasant confrontation with him. She pointed out the kind of distress it was going to cause all of us, but he didn’t seem unduly concerned.’

  ‘He wouldn’t deliberately hurt any of us. I know he wouldn’t.’

  ‘Who knows what his priorities are, darling?’ Cecile sipped her tea, eyeing Bella.

  ‘I’ll speak to him. Don’t worry. Just leave it with me.’

  Adam had arranged to meet Bella for dinner that evening, and he was surprised when she rang him late-afternoon.

  ‘You sound upset,’ said Adam. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Tell you what?’ asked Adam, with a sinking heart. He thought he had a fair idea.

  ‘These things – these unbelievable things you’ve been planning to write about my father.’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘Cecile. She rang me. Said she thought I had a right to know what you intended to say. Which is more than you did.’

  He hadn’t discussed anything with Cecile beyond Harry’s early life in Soho. Evidently she and Briony were in contact. He had had an idea they might close ranks in an attempt to stop him from publishing what he knew. Here was the real, the ultimate pressure. He closed his eyes for a moment.

  ‘I was going to talk to you about it. The right moment just hadn’t come up. Apart from which, I’m still checking facts.’

  ‘Facts? Adam, how can you believe any of it?’

  What was he supposed to say to her? Above all, he wanted her to go on believing all the things she had ever believed about Harry. They were still true. Just as it was probably true that Cecile had once been in love with Harry, despite all that came after. Just as it was true that James Gifford really was the man he was today because of Harry. How could he tell her that there was more to it than that, without destroying her ideal?

  ‘It’s true. So far as I can verify, it’s all true. That’s what happened. That was who he was. I’m sorry. The last thing in t
he world I wanted was for you to be hurt.’

  ‘It’s too late for that. It’s not just that I don’t want to believe those things about my father. You’re telling me they’re true, but I know they’re not. It’s all rumour, conjecture, the kind of horrible stuff that people come up with after someone like that dies. Chuck a bit of dirt, see if it sticks.’

  ‘Do you think I’d seriously write about it if I didn’t believe it?’

  ‘That’s the point, Adam.’ He could hear her voice tremble, then break. ‘You can’t write about it. Not if you love me. Please.’

  Long seconds ticked away. At last Adam said quietly, ‘Bella, I have no choice.’

  ‘Oh yes, you do.’ Tears shook her voice; he longed to hold her, to calm her. ‘I’m giving you a choice, Adam. Either you give it up, the entire project, or everything’s over between us.’

  ‘Please, don’t say that,’ said Adam. ‘I love you – more than you know. But I can’t just abandon this book.’

  ‘Why not? What good is it going to do? Who’s going to benefit from it? Not me, not Charlie, not Briony or Cecile, not anybody that ever knew and loved my father. All you’re going to do is ruin the reputation of a great person. Is that what you want your book to do? If you have to write it, leave those things out. You could if you wanted. Then no one has to suffer.’

  ‘This isn’t the way you were talking last time we spoke about this.’

  ‘Because I didn’t have any idea of what you really intended to say!’

  ‘I can’t just be selective with the truth. I’d rather give the book up than do that.’

  ‘Then will you?’

  Adam found himself recalling that day when she’d come into Harry’s study when he and Harry were discussing the very beginnings of the biography. She’d come a long way since then, found out a great deal that perhaps she’d never wanted to, thanks to him. Now he was proposing to put her through more pain, and lose her into the bargain. For what? Was it just for the sake of a book which, as she said, would probably do no one any good in the long run? Or was it something more than that?

  He tried to make his tone rational, placatory. ‘Bella, look, I know you’re upset, but you can’t just call up like this, issue ultimatums, and expect me to – to give in. This is my work, a whole year’s work, something I’ve dedicated myself to.’

  ‘It’s my father! My family! You expect me to believe that you love me, when you’re prepared to sacrifice our happiness, our peace of mind, for your work? My mother says there’s absolutely no truth in any of it, anyway!’

  ‘Look,’ said Adam, his voice as heavy as his heart, ‘this was never going to be easy to talk about. Whatever Cecile may have said, I can justify every–’

  ‘I don’t want justification! You seem to forget that we are his family! We knew Harry better than anyone! I don’t want to hear any of the lies you’ve been peddled!’

  ‘Bella, we can’t talk about this over the phone. I’m seeing you tonight. Why don’t you just give it a bit more thought between now and then? Don’t be so quick to condemn. Try to see it from my point of view–’

  ‘Adam, there is no point of view. It’s not open to debate. This isn’t emotional blackmail. It’s a simple statement of fact. If you’re prepared to go ahead with this, then we have nothing left to say to one another. Nothing.’

  He hesitated for a moment, then asked quietly, ‘Do you love me?’

  He could hear her take a deep, ragged breath before answering. ‘I don’t know. I thought I did. I want to. But I can’t if you do this.’

  ‘We’ll talk tonight. Sort something out.’

  She clicked the phone off and put it down slowly. What kind of compromise did he think there was to be reached? Bella dried her eyes and paced around the flat. How odd, that she had spent months looking for her family, looking for some imagined reality, only to find that her first and fiercest loyalties lay – had always lain – with Charlie, Cecile and Harry. She shut her mind to the possibility that there might be some truth in what Adam had discovered. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Adam was threatening to destroy her father’s reputation, and she would defend that with every breath in her body, truth or no truth.

  She sat down and stared bleakly at the traffic in the street below. The irony of finding a man she thought she could love – not just for a fleeting instant, but properly, enduringly – only to find he was bent on the destruction of everything and everyone dear to her. In spite of all that, he loved her. Of that she was convinced. He was bound to see the impossibility of the situation. And if he loved her as much as she thought he did, surely he would come to the conclusion that what they could have together was worth more than any book.

  The phone rang and she reached for it quickly, half-expecting it to be Adam. But it was Carla, her agent.

  ‘Bella, darling, sorry to hustle you, but I need a decision. The people at Carlton need to know one way or another about the Jane Austen.’

  ‘Oh, God… I don’t know. I think it’s yes, but I’m still trying to decide.’ If, as she felt he would, Adam gave in, then everything would be fine, she could forget the Hollywood thing. But in the unlikely event that he refused to compromise, insisted on going ahead, then she wanted to be as far away from him, and this whole, horrible situation, as possible. Tears stung her eyes at the thought that it might happen. No, she refused to accept the possibility. Not if he cared. ‘Carla, give me till this evening. I’m sure it’s going to be OK, but let me call you later. You said you didn’t need to know till tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, tomorrow’s the deadline, but they’ve been pressing me. It would help if I could say something today.’ She sighed. ‘All right. Call me this evening.’

  At quarter past eight that evening, Adam sat waiting for Bella in the bar of the restaurant he had booked for dinner. She came in late, breathless, beautiful. He felt his throat tighten at the sight of her.

  She pulled off her jacket. ‘Sorry I’m late. I had trouble getting a cab.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She sat down and he leaned across and kissed her cheek, taking in the perfume, the softness of her skin. ‘Drink?’

  ‘Just mineral water, thanks.’ She smiled, but her eyes were clouded, troubled.

  They gazed tentatively at one another.

  ‘Have you been working hard?’ she asked. Adam nodded. ‘I managed to do a bit of serious shopping myself,’ said Bella, and gave another quick smile. Her mineral water came. She sipped it, then set it down. ‘OK, then.’ He watched the rapid pulse which beat in her throat. She is so anxious, she loves me so much, thought Adam. He waited to hear what she would say next. ‘I hope I didn’t sound too – well… too dictatorial on the phone this morning.’ Adam shook his head. ‘It’s just – it’s just so important to me, Adam. You do understand that, don’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I understand that.’

  ‘So… You said we would sort something out.’

  He leaned forward, gazing intently at her. ‘Before we say anything else, there’s one thing you have to understand. I love you, and I would do nothing to hurt you. Nothing you say or think can change that.’ He stroked her cheek once with his finger. ‘But as for sorting something out, that’s up to you.’

  ‘What do you mean – it’s up to me?’

  ‘Whether or not this book makes any difference to us. It’s up to you to decide whether or not you can accept what I’m going to write.’

  Bella drew a long breath. ‘You’re going ahead with it?’ He nodded. She looked away for a few seconds, then asked, ‘How can you possibly pretend to love me?’

  ‘You once quoted something to me,’ said Adam. ‘From your play. “Truth must win. Otherwise life is impossible.”’

  She shook her head. ‘All you have to do is compromise.’

  ‘But it’s right. I have to say what I know to be the truth, or say nothing at all.’

  ‘Then say nothing. Forget compromise. Just abandon the biography. Please, Adam.’

>   He gazed at her, as if trying to fix the moment, to recall every precious, shared instant. He could hardly comprehend what it was he was about to lose.

  ‘I can’t.’

  There was a silence. ‘At least we know where we stand. I know now what matters more to you.’

  ‘No, you don’t. It’s not the simple choice you make it out to be.’

  ‘Yes, it is. And you’ve chosen. You’re on the other side now. I have to stick by my family.’ Her eyes were bright with tears. ‘It’s all pointless, this – you do realize that? We won’t let you publish it. We’ll do everything possible to stop you. And so no one will be any the better off – not you, or me, or anyone.’

  He could think of nothing to say to this. He watched as she rose, picked up her jacket, put it on. As she was about to leave, Adam said, ‘Whatever happens, remember – he was a great man. A great writer.’

  She walked out of the bar, and Adam was left alone. He sat there for some time. At last he got up, paid, went down to the street and hailed a cab to take him home. When he turned the key in the lock of his door and went in, it was as though the silence had been waiting for him, to welcome him. He walked into his study and stood by the window, watching the beginnings of the late-summer dusk creep across the London sky. He sat down at his desk and began to work.