A Friend of the Family

by Marcia Willett

  ‘Good thinking to have a party now,’ observed William, hunting for a clean shirt. There’s always a whole spate of them at Christmas and over the New Year but it’s now when everything’s dark and drear that people need cheering up.’

  ‘How right you are,’ agreed Abby, who knew perfectly well that William didn’t have a clean shirt and was wondering how to break the news to him. ‘I thought we might not be quite so formal and stuffy tonight, darling. Why not wear that super rollneck Sophie gave you for Christmas and your new cords? You’ll look very dashing!’

  ‘You mean I haven’t got a clean shirt,’ said William, with a resigned sigh. ‘Will that do for a party?’

  ‘It’s not a dinner or anything,’ said Abby, ‘just a good thrash, Cass said. A late twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Let’s be different. You don’t always have to wear a collar and tie, you know.’

  ‘It just seems right,’ grumbled William, going to find the said jersey. ‘I bet Tom will be wearing a collar and tie.’

  ‘That’s because he’s as stuffy as you are,’ said Abby lightly. ‘All those naval rules and regs. Break out! Be different!’

  She left William in her dressing room and went into her daughter’s bedroom, humming. Dear old William! What a dinosaur he was! She began to look through Sophie’s clothes for something different and exciting.

  POLLY, TOO, WAS PREPARING for the party. She had enjoyed her day with Harriet and on returning to the Old Rectory had had tea with Cass and Tom in the drawing room. It seemed to have twice as many chairs as the evening before, a log fire roared up the chimney and the furniture gleamed and shone from polishing. It looked welcoming and cosy. As she passed through the hall on her way upstairs, Polly saw that the dining-room table was laid out with a buffet supper and the sideboard creaked beneath its weight of bottles. She hurried on to her bath feeling both excited and nervous.

  Now, as she moved around the bedroom, she felt just nervous. She peered at herself in the looking-glass. Her hair was still looking good and the new dress, high at the neck, long in the sleeve and very clinging, was unbelievably flattering. She could have passed for twenty-four.

  Polly sat down on the bed. Do I want to pass for twenty-four? she thought. What am I doing here, all dressed up to kill?

  Even as she thought about Paul, part of her mind thrust the problem away. She simply didn’t want to confront the reality of his departure or attempt to come to terms with the situation. She felt as though she were in some kind of limbo, a protective deadening cocoon, which prevented the need for thought or action. At that moment she heard the sound of vehicles coming up the drive and passing beneath her window. The bell rang, the front door opened and voices were heard exclaiming. Polly’s hands clutched together convulsively. More wheels, more exclaimings. She sat, silently listening.

  After quite a few more arrivals Polly stood up. Before she could move to the door, a car could be heard approaching at far greater speed than the others. The vehicle stopped at the bottom of the steps. A door slammed, then another. The front door opened and there was a loud cry.

  Polly went out on to the landing and looked over the balustrade. In the hall Cass was trying to embrace two young men at once. The taller of the two was as fair as Cass herself. The younger was darker and sturdier and Polly guessed at once that these were her two sons.

  ‘Darlings!’ she was crying with delight. ‘What a wonderful surprise! Tom!’ she called. ‘Look who’s here!’

  Polly started to descend the stairs, hoping to make her entrance under cover of this family reunion. Saul, released from Cass’s embrace, turned and caught sight of Polly. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Oliver, taking in the situation at a glance and feeling that his brother was doing himself no great favour in giving a fair imitation of something on a fishmonger’s slab, gave Saul a sharp nudge. Saul gulped, his teeth meeting with a sharp click, and pulled himself together.

  ‘Oh, Polly,’ said Cass, as Polly, reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘Isn’t this a wonderful surprise! These are my sons. This is Oliver and this is Saul.’ She put an arm round each of them. ‘I had simply no idea they were coming. This is Polly. She’s staying with us for a few days. You must make sure she has a lovely time. I must tell Tom you’re here.’ She hurried off.

  The boys shook hands with Polly, who smiled at them warmly. ‘How nice to meet you,’ she said, ‘and what a lovely surprise for Cass. Have you come far?’

  ‘No,’ croaked Saul whilst Oliver said: ‘From Cambridge.’

  ‘Goodness,’ said Polly, ‘I should have thought that was quite far enough!’

  ‘I picked Saul up from Tiverton on the way down,’ explained Olwer. He herded them towards the drawing room where they were met in the doorway by Tom, who looked less delighted to see them, and Polly sensed that Saul was rather anxious regarding his reception. Oliver beamed at his parent.

  ‘Hi, Pa. The usual mob, I see. Don’t worry, we’re looking after Polly. Saul’s going to get her a drink.’

  ‘Just wine,’ said Polly quickly. ‘A glass of white wine would be super.’

  ‘Right.’ Saul disappeared with remarkable alacrity, avoiding his father’s eye. Tom looked at Oliver.

  ‘How did he manage permission to come out of school?’ he asked. ‘It’s not an exeat.’

  ‘Oh, it was no problem,’ said Oliver airily. ‘It’s a special occasion, after all. Unfortunately, Gemma’s housemistress didn’t agree or she would have been here, too.’

  ‘You had no right to pull Saul out of school. He simply can’t afford distractions at the moment. He has to work hard. And it’s not even an official twenty-fifth anniversary party. We had that out in the States.’

  ‘Don’t get out of your pram, Pa,’ said Oliver. One weekend isn’t the end of the world. Look! I think someone’s trying to attract your attention.’

  Tom, hailed by a passing guest, moved reluctantly away and Oliver blew out his lips in relief. ‘Pa’s being very heavy-handed with poor old Saul at the moment,’ he explained. ‘Worrying about his A levels. Just what he doesn’t need, poor kid. He’s been rejected by a rather horrid girl and she’s really knocked his confidence.’

  ‘Oh, how sad,’ Polly cried. ‘Poor Saul.’

  ‘Don’t let on that I told you. He’s got his pride. I shall have to keep the aged parent off his back, though. Thinks he’s not working hard enough and shouldn’t let himself be distracted by girls. Shall we go and meet people?’

  POLLY, PERCHED ON A LOW stool, was beginning to enjoy herself. She’d had a long chat with Thea, who tried to persuade her to come back to the Old Station House afterwards. Polly felt that it would be rather rude after Cass’s kindness but agreed to go on Monday and, at this point, Harriet joined them. Polly found that being the centre of so much attention was rather pleasant and worried that she wasn’t feeling more upset. It all seemed so unreal and as the party progressed there was an air of the problem being shelved for the time being. Polly was quite happy. She’d drunk enough but not too much and the supper was delicious. Saul hovered solicitously and one of Tom’s fellow officers, a man called Tony Whelan, had joined them. He had a lighthearted, bantering style of conversation which was just the sort of thing she felt up to at present.

  ‘Where’s Oliver?’ she asked, realising that she hadn’t seen him for some time.

  ‘He’s suddenly vanished away, as is Oliver’s wont at these functions,’ said Tony, who had sat down beside her on the floor to eat his supper.

  ‘ “He had softly and suddenly vanished away, for the Snark was a Boojum you see,”’ said Polly, forking up some salmon mousse.

  Saul looked surprised and Tony laughed to see his expression. ‘Don’t you know your Lewis Carroll?’ he asked and Saul looked even more surprised. Tony shook his head sadly. ‘Nobody reads any more.’

  ‘I never stop reading,’ said Saul indignantly. ‘You want to try doing History A levels!’

  ‘You’re not to be horrid to Saul,’ said Polly to Tony.
‘He’s looked after me all evening. He’s the nicest boy I’ve met for ages.’ She put down her plate and picked up a bowl of chocolate pudding. ‘ “The nicest child I ever knew was Charles Augustus Fortescue,"‘ she recited and smiled ravishingly at Saul. ‘Don’t you love Belloc?’

  ‘He’s never heard of him,’ said Tony teasingly. ‘No good lying, Saul, I can tell!’

  ‘ “Matilda told such dreadful lies, it made one gasp and stretch one’s eyes.” I shall read him to you, Saul,’ said Polly dreamily. ‘We’ll read him together. Just you and me.’

  Saul began to think that things were looking up a bit and cast a rather cheeky look at Tony. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he said and felt daring and manly. ‘When do we start?’

  CASS GATHERED UP SOME plates and went into the kitchen to organise coffee. Oliver was sitting at the kitchen table. He smiled up at her as she came in.

  ‘The kettles are on,’ he said. ‘I imagine you’ll want both of them?’

  ‘Oh, Ollie! Bless you,’ said Cass. ‘What are you doing out here on your own?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ve done the social bit. I shall go back with the coffee. No one will miss me. I was just thinking about Gus.’

  ‘Oh, Ollie,’ said Cass again but with a different inflection. ‘Oh, I know. He was always here to greet you when you came back, wasn’t he? Rushing round to find something to bring you. Oh, I miss him, too, but we couldn’t take him to the States and then he got that tumour and Abby had to have him put down. I felt so badly about him.’

  ‘Sorry, Ma.’ Oliver came round the table and put his arm around her. ‘Didn’t mean to upset you.’

  They stood for a moment, embracing, but they had ceased to think about Gus. Instead they thought of Charlotte. Both knew the other’s thoughts and, though neither of them spoke, they both felt comforted.

  POLLY WOKE LATE ON Sunday morning. Unused to the excitement and the stimulation of the previous evening, she had passed a disturbed and restless night and had then fallen into a heavy sleep in the early morning.

  She came round slowly, dozing in fitful jerks and finally coming to full consciousness just after eleven o’clock. Her head was buzzing slightly and she was very thirsty. After a moment, she rolled out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and, opening her bedroom door, stood for a moment, listening. Silence.

  She slipped into the bathroom, made a hasty toilet and went back to dress. It was very cold, the sky overcast and louring. Polly pulled on her cords and her thick, baggy jersey and went downstairs. Simultaneously, Saul appeared from the kitchen door and Tom emerged from the drawing room.

  ‘Good morning,’ they said.

  ‘Hi,’ said Polly. ‘I’m sorry I’m so late.’

  ‘Have some coffee,’ offered Saul, seizing his advantage at being nearest to the kitchen. ‘I’m sure you’re dying for some.’

  ‘Ooh, yes please!’ Polly’s tone was heartfelt. ‘I’d kill for a mug of coffee.’

  ‘What about breakfast?’ Tom was not to be written off so easily. ‘I do a very good fry-up.’ He strolled behind them into the kitchen.

  ‘I don’t think I could,’ said Polly, to whom the thought was appalling. ‘Just some coffee would be terrific.’

  Saul already had the kettle on and was dealing with mugs. ‘Milk and sugar?’ he asked her. ‘Do you want some, Pa?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Tom easily, sitting beside Polly, who had subsided on to a chair at the huge old kitchen table.

  ‘Both for me, please,’ said Polly. ‘How cosy it is in here. It was a lovely party, wasn’t it? Where’s Cass?’

  ‘Oliver’s taken her into the village to get the papers and a few supplies,’ said Tom. ‘It’s not much of a walk but it’s bitterly cold and Oliver wanted to fill the car up. He’s got an early start tomorrow morning.’

  ‘So you’ve got today off?’ Polly smiled up at Saul as he put her coffee in front of her. ‘Thank you, that looks perfect.’

  ‘As long as I’m back in time for my first lesson tomorrow morning.’ Saul passed his father a mug. ‘Oliver will drop me off on the way up.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be here at all, really,’ said Tom, stirring in sugar. ‘It’s not officially an exeat,’ he explained to Polly. ‘Apparently Oliver telephoned Saul’s housemaster and told him that it was a very special family occasion and Saul would be the only family member not present.’ He shook his head. ‘Children get away with murder these days.’

  Saul shot him a look of resentment but, as he opened his mouth to retort, the telephone in the hall rang. Nobody moved.

  ‘Go on, Saul,’ said Tom, impatiently. ‘You’re on your feet. It’s probably for you anyway. Get on with it.’

  Reluctantly, Saul left the kitchen. They heard his voice answering and Tom smiled at Polly.

  ‘For vou, Pa.’

  Saul reappeared and Tom sighed and got to his feet. Polly smiled at Saul. She felt all the frustration that he was feeling and wondered how she could help him .

  ‘I was just wondering,’ she said to him, Svhether it’s too cold for a hit of a walk or a drive. You know. Blow the cobwebs away. What’s that place you were telling me about last night? Some reservoir?’

  Saul’s face lit up. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Burrator. I’d love to. You’ll need a coat, though.’

  ‘Hang on a minute!’ protested Tom, returning from the telephone, as Polly passed him in the doorway and ran up the stairs and Saul started to unhook a coat from behind the kitchen door. ‘What’s all this? Where are vou going?’

  ‘I suggested showing her Burrator Reservoir,’ said Saul. ‘It should be wonderful after all the rain we’ve had. The water will be roaring over the dam. Polly’s never seen it.’

  ‘It’ll be freezing up there.’ Tom looked annoyed. ‘Honestly, Saul! It’s crazy to take her up there on a morning like this.’

  ‘I’m sure it would be for vou, Pa!’ Saul’s happiness buoyed him up and lent him a certain recklessness. ‘But we’re not old like you. We’ve got our young blood to keep us warm!’

  And with a grin of malice mingled with triumph, he hurried out to meet Polly as she came down the stairs.

  MICHAEL WAS READING HUGH his bedtime story—The Tale of Samuel Whiskers—which was Hugh’s favourite. Michael did a different voice for each character, which delighted Hugh and sent him into paroxysms of mirth.

  ‘ “I fear that we shall be obliged to leave this pudding,” ‘ he read. ‘ “But I am persuaded that the knots would have proved indigestible, whatever you may urge to the contrary.” ’

  The bedroom door opened and Harriet put her head round. ‘All done?’ she asked, rather more brightly than usual.

  Hugh shook his head furiously and Michael looked at her sharply. She came across and gave Hugh a hug. ‘Good night, darling,’ she said and kissed him, holding him a little longer than usual. ‘God bless.’ She went to the door and glanced back at Michael, making a little grimace .

  ‘Very nearly finished,’ said Michael and she went out and along to her bedroom where he joined her a few minutes later.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘Has it started?’

  Harriet nodded wordlessly. She was gathering up her overnight case and various belongings.

  ‘Oh, hell!’ said Michael. ‘I hoped we’d get through the night at the very least. I knew that blasted party would be too much for you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t fuss, darling, please. There’s plenty of time. I’ve phoned the hospital and told them we’re on our way.’ She smiled at him and then gave a little gasp of pain. ‘Oooh!’

  ‘Oh, Harriet.’ He went to her and put his arms around her. ‘I love you. Don’t worry, we’ll manage. I suppose we’ll have to get Hugh up and take him with us. I’ll go and get him organised.’

  ‘No, wait.’ Harriet felt another stab of pain and sat down on the side of the bed. ‘I was thinking about that downstairs. Why don’t we phone Polly? It’s real luck that she’s with Cass. She can be over in half an hour and I would be much happier if
she’s here. Hugh adores her and she’ll be quite happy to come. O oooh!’ and poor Harriet gave another gasp. ‘Go and phone, darling, please. I’ll get a list ready for her. I’ll have to warn her that your cousin may turn up but with luck you’ll be home by morning. Ooooh!’ She swallowed and then chuckled. ‘Get a move on, Michael. Our next child seems to be in a bit of a hurry to get out!’

  SAUL WAS HAVING A wonderful day. Polly, rather recklessly, had let him drive her car up to Burrator where they had watched the water thundering and roaring down between the stone ramparts of the dam. They had walked down through the trees and stared up at it, deafened by the noise and covered by its spray. It had been almost frightening in its power and Polly had imagined how it might be if the ramparts crumbled and the dam collapsed, the whole weight of the water pouring down into the valley. We’d be swept away like rag dolls, she thought, and shivered with a delicious terror.

  ‘Getting cold?’ Saul bellowed into her ear and she nodded and clutched his arm as they toiled back up to the road.

  ‘Want to go back?’ he asked, when they reached the car. For one glorious moment he imagined that it was summer so that they could go walking off into the heart of the moor and he could do wonderful, exciting, unspeakable things to her in the bracken. He sighed and returned to frustrating reality. ‘Or shall we go and have a sandwich in the pub?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ cried Polly enthusiastically. ‘Is there a pub?’

  ‘There’s the Old Oak down at Meavy,’ said Saul. ‘Let’s go and get warmed up.’

  When they had their sandwiches before them—Polly with coffee, Saul with a pint—he told her how the reservoir looked during a drought summer, the crumbling cottages and homesteads showing above the water. Polly hung flatteringly on his words and laughed infectiously at his jokes. Saul began to wonder if he’d died and gone to Heaven without realising it. He noticed one or two men glancing sideways at Polly and how their eyes followed her when she went to the loo and he could feel his chest expanding and his stature being added unto by the minute, despite Holy Writ claiming it as a physical impossibility.