Alistair had gone now, with a tender kiss and a promise to be there when she woke up. She felt fiercely, terribly alone. And dreadfully afraid. Afraid of what they would find, what they would do, that in spite of Mr Hobson’s reassurances she would wake up without her breast. And what would there be? A great wound? A cobbling together of her flesh? A mutilation, pain, ugliness. Panic rose in her, she began to sweat.
The nurse came in with the pre-med tray; suddenly, vividly she remembered the other time, all those years ago, when she had been pregnant with Rufus, when there was nearly no Rufus. Thank God, thank God there had been. Her lovely, gentle, handsome, clever son. Who had disappeared. Who no longer trusted her. No longer loved her …
A moan escaped Susie, a low quiet moan; the nurse was alarmed. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Headleigh Drayton. Did I hurt you?’
‘No. No, it’s all right. Could I – could I have the phone? I’ll be quick, before this takes effect.’
‘Yes of course. Here, let me dial the number.’
‘No, no, it’s all right.’ Hang on, Susie, hang on, don’t let go; just once more, that was all she asked, just to hear his voice once more, to take with her into this awful, ugly darkness …
‘Wedbourne 240.’ It was Harriet’s voice.
‘Harriet, it’s Susie.’
‘Ah. Hallo.’ Hostility, polite but unmistakable.
‘Harriet, could I speak to your father? I’m sorry to ask you but …’
‘He’s not here I’m afraid. He’s gone to Paris. With Theo.’
‘To Paris! Why?’ God, she was feeling strange already: hazy, confused, dry-mouthed. Her tongue seemed thick, out of control.
‘Yes. To look for Cressida.’
‘Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Cressida. Poor Cressida.’ Her eyes were getting heavy, she felt very dizzy, even though she was lying down.
‘Is mother there?’ That wasn’t quite right; the words weren’t properly ordered.
‘My mother? Yes. Susie, are you all right? Where are you?’ The hostility was gone, she sounded alarmed.
‘I’m hospital Harriet. In operation. Princess Diana. Good – breast.’
Somehow then the receiver was gone, taken gently from her, and she was drifting, drifting down a long, dark corridor, and the fear was gone and the pain too, just a lovely lightness, and oh God, this was what happened when people died, she had read it so often, people saw a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel, and how lovely it was, she was safe now, quite safe, safe from all of them, just her and the soothing quietness, and there was Mr Hobson smiling at her, so kindly, saying, ‘Good, good, can you hear me?’ And she tried to say ‘yes’ but she couldn’t, she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move, obviously she was really dying, and she suddenly thought how awful, how awful to die in this horrible green paper hat, she couldn’t, what would everyone think, and suppose some of the children saw her, and she was wrenching it off, tugging it, and it hurt, it really hurt trying to do it, her hand hurt, and someone was holding it now, holding it gently, telling her to relax, and she did, falling sweetly into darkness, falling, falling, and now even the bright light was gone …
Chapter 27
Harriet 9am
‘So we thought a very quiet wedding.’
‘Don’t talk about weddings,’ said Harriet with a shudder.
‘Sorry, mon ange. A very quiet ceremony. In Paris. Which I hope very much you will attend. And then Merlin wishes to take me to see a rain forest. Or perhaps China. What do you think?’
‘I think it all sounds wonderful. So wonderful. I’m really very very happy for you, Janine.’
‘Bon. I am happy for myself.’ Jannie smiled at her, her dark eyes brilliant. ‘And a little surprised. It was, what do you say, an arrow from the blue –’
‘Bolt, Janine. You’re getting confused with Cupid.’
‘And why not? Very well, a bolt from the blue. You do not think we will seem a little ridiculous?’
‘Janine, really! Neither of you could ever seem that.’
‘I am not so sure,’ said Janine quietly. She looked troubled. ‘Both of us quite old people. Very different. And to get married, to set up home together like twenty-year-olds, it seems so – I don’t know, so foolish somehow.’
‘Janine, not foolish at all. Lovely. Sweet and lovely. And anyway, why should you care what it seems? You’re going to be terribly happy, I know you are, and that’s what matters.’
‘Yes,’ said Janine, suddenly relaxing, smiling at her. ‘Yes, I think we will be. I am sure we will be. And one should take happiness, should one not? With both arms. While one can.’
‘One should,’ said Harriet, with a sigh, ‘with both arms. And hold onto it.’
She thought of her own difficult happiness the year before, wondering if she should have clung to it more tightly; too late now, it was gone, long, long gone.
‘What a sigh, Harriet darling. You are not happy, I think?’
‘Oh, I’m all right, Janine. Worried obviously. But all right. Thank you. And certainly very happy for you. Really. Where are you going to live?’
‘In Paris,’ said Janine firmly. ‘I could not be happy living anywhere else. And Merlin doesn’t mind where he lives. Besides, if he has his way we won’t be there so very much. We have several continents to look at.’
Harriet was silent for a moment, smiling at the vision of Merlin and Janine looking at continents together. ‘It sounds lovely,’ she said, ‘as if you were going to be on a magic carpet.’
‘I am sure we would be,’ said Janine, ‘if Merlin could get one at half price.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He has gone out on a mysterious errand. I have an inkling as to what it is, but we must wait and see.’ She put out her hand, stroked Harriet’s check. ‘You look so tired, chérie. It was a terrible day yesterday, was it not?’
‘It was,’ said Harriet with a sigh, ‘truly terrible. And I –’ She took a deep breath. She had to confess to Janine some time, had to get it over, had to tell her what had happened to her money. ‘Janine, there’s something else as well. You see I –’
‘Just look at this!’ It was Merlin, stalking into the kitchen flushed, his white hair standing up round his head like a halo. ‘Hope you like it, my dear. Chap said he’d take it back if you didn’t.’
With a proud beam he handed Janine a small, rather worn leather ring box. She looked at him, then opened it very carefully. Inside was a ring: a lover’s knot worked in gold, with a flower of garnets and diamonds at its centre.
‘Merlin, it’s beautiful,’ said Janine. She put it on her long slender wedding finger; amazingly it fitted. She reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you. Does this make it official?’
‘I should hope so. Glad you like it. Victorian. Beat the chap down a lot, ridiculous price he was asking, told him I’d –’
‘Merlin,’ said Harriet gently, ‘you really can’t tell your fiancée her engagement ring was a bargain. It just isn’t done.’
‘Oh really? Suppose I’ve got a lot to learn. Sorry, my dear. Well, it still cost a lot of money. Does that make you feel any better?’
‘I did not feel bad in the first place,’ said Janine. ‘Isn’t this a beautiful ring, Harriet? Am I not a lucky woman?’
‘Yes,’ said Harriet, ‘you are. But you deserve it. Both of you. And I hope you’ll be terribly happy.’
‘Oh, no doubt about that,’ said Merlin. ‘Got it right, I can see it. Thank goodness I was still free, waited for the real thing … Nearly married a dreadful girl I met in India, just after the war …’
‘Good gracious,’ said Harriet, ‘that was a narrow escape.’
‘Yes, well, she wasn’t really dreadful of course, but she certainly couldn’t hold a candle to Janine. Isn’t she lovely?’ he said to Harriet, a sweet soft smile on his handsome old face. ‘Isn’t she fine?’
‘Merlin, you speak of me as if I were a horse,’ said Janine briskly.
‘No, Janine, that’s not fair
,’ said Harriet. ‘That’s exactly what you are, fine. A fine person. It’s a good description.’
‘Well, all this is making me blush,’ said Janine. ‘Harriet, my darling, should I go and see your mother, do you think?’
‘No, she’s still asleep, thank goodness,’ said Harriet, ‘and I honestly think when she does wake up she’ll feel better. Be able to come to terms with it a bit more. Poor Mummy. She dreamed of yesterday for so long …’
‘Lot of bloody nonsense,’ said Merlin suddenly. ‘Silly spoilt little girl. Needs her bottom smacked. Where’s your father, Harriet?’
‘Oh – he’s – he’s gone to see Theo,’ said Harriet quickly.
‘Good chap, Theo,’ said Merlin. ‘Always liked him. Needs the right woman, that’s all. That little thing he’s got with him now, very pretty, but no good for him.’
‘Merlin, he isn’t very nice to her,’ said Harriet.
‘That’s what I mean. He needs someone who’ll stand up to him. Give as good as she gets.’
‘That’s what all those wives try to do. He just sends them packing.’
‘Well that’s because he knows they don’t really give two figs for him,’ said Merlin. ‘Most of ’em married him for his money. Damn shame. Must hurt, that.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Harriet slowly. ‘I’d never thought of it like that.’
‘Merlin, you have been engaged for less than twelve hours and you are already an expert on marriage,’ said Janine, laughing. She stood up and gave him another kiss. ‘Now, Harriet, ma chère, what do you think I should do? Should I stay here with your mother for a day or two longer, or would it be better if I left? I am willing to do whatever is best.’
‘That’s sweet of you, Janine, but I think she’ll probably be best left in peace. She’s so hurt, so humiliated, as well as frightened and worried – she has to come to terms with it by herself.’
‘Yes, and of course Cressida may yet come back. I have heard of these things, where people go away, disappear, it is a little like a suicide. They reach the end of their rope –’
‘Tether, Janine.’
‘All right, tether. They cannot cope. A cry for help, that is what this might be.’
‘It might, I suppose,’ said Harriet, trying to sound convinced, thinking of the picture of the radiant Cressida running down the steps of Sacré-Coeur in her wedding dress. ‘It might indeed. Well, we must wait and see.’
‘And you? What will you do?’
‘Oh, I have to get back to London,’ said Harriet. Her voice sounded taut, strained, even to her.
‘Today?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. My business is – well, anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment with a man about an overdraft at two –’
‘Now look, Harriet,’ said Merlin, ‘the offer stands. Anything I can do …’
‘Is there a real problem?’ asked Janine. Her eyes were brilliant, thoughtful.
‘Yes, Janine, there is.’ Harriet faced her, looked at her very levelly. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I was going to do it just now, when Merlin came in. I may have to ask you to bear with me for a while before I can give you your money back. I’m so sorry. I’ve fought so hard to be able to save it, tried everything, but you see –’
‘My darling child, I don’t want my money back. It was an investment I made, and if it was a bad one, that is my problem. Well, it is yours as well of course, but anyway, I certainly do not want to hear the details now. Another time. We will go through it all and you can tell me what has happened, and what should be done. But just now, clearly you must go and see this bank manager.’
‘Think young Tilly could help?’ said Merlin. ‘Said she would, didn’t she? Lovely girl, don’t you think, my dear? Just right for young Rufus. Maybe we could make it a double wedding. There’s an idea now.’
‘Merlin, it’s a terrible idea,’ said Harriet, laughing, ‘and I’m afraid there won’t be any wedding there, double or otherwise. Tilly is hell-bent on finishing the whole thing. Oh God, I completely forgot. Janine, did you know Susie was in hospital?’
‘Susie? No, of course not. What’s wrong? It must have been very sudden. She looked well yesterday. Thin, of course, but –’
‘She phoned my – well, she phoned a little while ago. From the hospital. She sounded very strange. I told Rufus, he phoned about Annabel and Tom, he didn’t know either.’
‘Let us hope it is not serious,’ said Janine. ‘Such a nice woman.’
‘Yes,’ said Harriet shortly. Janine looked at her sharply; Harriet looked back, her eyes a careful blank. ‘Well, I must go and sort out a few things. Excuse me. And congratulations to you both again. That ring is heaven, Merlin.’
She was on her way upstairs when the phone rang; it was James. ‘Harriet, darling, we’re almost back.’
‘Back! But you’ve only just gone.’
‘I know. Let’s just say there didn’t seem any future in staying.’
‘No Cressida?’
‘Well – no. Not really. Certainly she won’t be back. Not for a while. I’ll explain when we get there. There’s a lot of talking to do.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Harriet, ‘but I may have gone. I simply have to get to town. Meeting with the bank. Obviously I’ll come back tonight if I possibly can. I’ll have to take Mummy’s car.’
‘All right,’ said James with a sigh. ‘Is Mummy awake?’
‘Not yet. Well, she wasn’t twenty minutes ago.’ Don’t ask me what my problem is, will you, thought Harriet, don’t worry about me. There’s Cressida and Mummy and Susie to think about, quite enough for one day. No wonder I’m so obsessed with success, with proving myself.
‘Good. What was that, Theo? Ah, Harriet, Theo wants to know if he could have a word with you.’
‘He couldn’t,’ said Harriet and put the phone down.
She went up to her room, repacked her briefcase, then sat down on the bed and picked up the letter from the gynaecologist she had found in the cardigan pocket.
Jennifer Bradman, FRCOG, said she could see her around midday: ‘I’m sorry it can’t be before. Full morning. I don’t know how much I can help, but I’ll certainly try.’
‘Thank you,’ said Harriet.
She looked in at her mother on her way down. Maggie was lying awake but calm; she gazed rather hopelessly at Harriet from her mound of pillows.
‘I’ll get you some tea, Mummy. Then I really have to go up to London. I’m sorry. Urgent business. I’ll be back tonight if I possibly can.’
‘You always have urgent business,’ said Maggie fretfully. ‘Don’t delay yourself on my account, Harriet, I’ll get my own tea.’
Harriet walked out in silence, closing the door with acute care behind her. Otherwise she would have slammed it.
Chapter 28
James 10am
‘You drive,’ Theo had said, when they finally reached Kidlington, fell exhaustedly into the Bentley. ‘I want to hit the phone.’
‘You sound like a character in a TV drama,’ said James, grinning at him.
‘I am like a character in a TV drama,’ said Theo rather grimly. ‘Ridiculous. Absurd. Hard to believe in.’ He was punching out numbers. James, aware of how tired he was, how upset, desperately trying to concentrate on the road, heard a long trail of conversations: with Myra Hartman, about faxes, letters, appointments, flowers (flowers?); with Mark Protheroe, about prices, selling, buying, markets; with Jackie the housekeeper, about arrivals, departures, guests, the weekend; and then a brief heated exchange clearly with Mungo, and another, brief as well, but coolly level, with his elder son Michael. ‘I’ve got to do something about that boy,’ he said, finally hanging up the phone.
‘Which one? Mungo?’
‘Oh, I can’t do anything with Mungo. He’s absolutely impossible. Pig-headed, arrogant, totally absurd –’
‘Like a character in a TV drama,’ said James mildly.
‘What? Oh, for God’s sake, James. Mungo is nothing, nothing
in the least like me. I’m talking about Michael. He’s thirty-two now, you know. Got to give him something to run.’
‘Well, is that a problem?’
‘Yes it is. He’s efficient, shrewd, conscientious, got an excellent business head.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
‘He’s got no passion. No style. None at all. Never does anything on impulse. He’s all brain.’
‘Isn’t that a good thing in business?’ asked James, genuinely intrigued.
‘No of course not,’ said Theo. He sounded astonished, as if James had suggested that a good businessman should possess a talent for ballet or pottery. ‘Passion is what makes it all work, James. You can get other people to crunch numbers and deal with contracts and contacts, but it’s what you do with your heart and your instinct that wins you the day. It’s like falling in love, James, it’s like sex, it’s an excitement, a thud of the heart. Michael’s heart doesn’t thud. Ever.’
‘What about Mungo’s?’
‘Thuds too bloody much,’ said Theo and picked up the phone again.
‘Can you drop me at the Bergins’ hotel?’ said James. ‘I left my jacket there yesterday and I can see how they’re coping at the same time. I hope quite honestly they go home very soon – there’s no point their hanging around. Or do you think there is? Do you think she might even now come back?’ he added, hearing the note of hopeful pain in his own voice as he said it, feeling foolish.
Theo looked at him. ‘Honestly,’ he said, ‘I don’t. It’s a bitch of a thing to admit, but I don’t.’
James was silent.
‘James! Good morning. How are you?’ Julia was as china-doll perfect as ever, smiling, holding out her hand as she came across the hotel lounge.
‘Oh – all right,’ said James wearily. He was too tired, too wretched to keep up any pretences, to try to sound positive.
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