‘Did you talk to her about me?’
‘A bit. She mentioned that you’d gone out together, but it was quite early on in the Season.’
‘Yes. But we never fell out. We were always friends and we picked up again when it was finished, just once or twice, for old times’ sake. I know you weren’t all that keen on Candida, but I liked her.’
I was very interested by this. With all these women he seemed to have been so much more aware of them, so much more clear-sighted as to their true natures, than I had been. ‘She did imply there was a little hanky-panky when the year was over. Is that when the baby might have begun?’
‘No, it wasn’t then. That was finished a long time before the holiday.’ There was a short silence at the other end of the line. ‘She came to me, after that dinner, when everyone was asleep. I woke in the night and she was with me, naked in my bed, and we made love. Then, when I woke up in the morning she was gone.’
‘Did you see her the next day, before you took off?’
‘Nobody had surfaced when I went. I just called a taxi and disappeared. But she left a note in my room, for me to find, so we parted on good terms.’
‘Did you meet up afterwards? In London?’
‘I never saw any of them again. Including you.’
‘No.’ I too had gone to the airport at dawn, but somehow we managed to avoid each other. On my part consciously. And no, like all of us I had not seen Damian from that day until my summons.
He interrupted my thoughts. ‘That is, I did see Joanna. Just once, but we know it wasn’t her.’
‘And Terry.’
He was puzzled for a second, and then he nodded and smiled. ‘You’re right. I’d remembered it as being before we left. But you’re right. It was when we got back. Poor old Terry.’
‘What did the note say? From Candida?’
‘“I still love you” and she signed it with that funny scrawl of hers. I was very touched. I don’t think I have ever been unhappier than I was that night.’
‘Which goes for everyone who was there.’
‘I used to pray that I would never be so unhappy again. Since I have minutes left, I can presumably be confident of achieving that at least.’ He chuckled softly at the hideous memory. At least, I say he chuckled, but the sound was more like the rattling of old and disused pipes in a condemned building. ‘I lay on my bed, listening to you talking outside and everyone leaving, and I wished I were dead. For a while I thought they were going to send for the police.’
‘That lot? No chance. They do not care to make column inches. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed.’ We were nearly at our destination. There seemed to be nothing left to do but tie up the loose ends. ‘Shall I go and tell her about her son’s good fortune?’
‘Why not? Then come down here. I want to hear what she says.’
Candida was quite content to get my call this time and equally content to let me invade her for a cup of coffee that very morning. She lived in the same old Fulham-type house that so many of her tribe have come to occupy since I was young. Harry had obviously made a decent living and she had fixed the place up very attractively. She greeted me with her usual, if to me newfound, calm, good manners, and took me into a pretty, chintzy drawing room, carrying a tray of coffee things. On the table behind a sofa was a large, framed photograph of, I assume, the late Harry Stanforth. He had a bluff, chunky, smiling face, rather an ordinary one really, but that is the great and timeless miracle of love. I saluted him silently, as Candida poured cups for the pair of us. Then she looked at me. ‘Well?’ she said.
I explained about Damian’s search and my part in it. ‘I didn’t want to do it but even I could see he didn’t really have a viable alternative.’
She sipped her coffee. ‘I knew it was something. Though I’m not sure I guessed it was that. So, how do I come into it?’ Then she just sat, patiently waiting for me to continue. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t making the connection.
‘We think it’s you. We think Archie is Damian’s son.’
For a moment she said nothing but just looked puzzled. Then she gave a little snort of laughter. ‘How? I’m not an elephant.’ It was my turn to look puzzled. ‘I last slept with Damian almost two years before Archie was born.’
‘But, when we talked, you implied that you had a fling with him after the end of your affair.’
‘And so I did. In the summer of 1969. I felt rather sorry for him, the way things had finished with Serena, and when she sent out the invitations to her marriage I looked him up to see how he was coping. We met a few times after that. But then I lost touch with him. That’s why I used you to get him to Portugal a year later. I wasn’t completely sure he’d want to hear from me again, although I don’t now think I need have worried.’
‘But you slept with him on that night.’
‘What night?’
‘When Damian went mad and covered us all with fish stew. Surely you remember?’
‘Are you nuts? Of course I remember. Who could forget? But I didn’t sleep with him.’
‘He woke up in the middle of the night and you were there next to him, in his bed.’
‘And this isn’t an extract from a novel bought under the counter?’
‘You left a note in his room saying you loved him.’
This did bring her up sharp, as she concentrated. She nodded briskly. ‘I did do that. I thought he must be feeling so ghastly after what he’d put us through and I scribbled a note saying… I forget now. “I forgive you,” or something like that-’
‘“I still love you”.’
‘Was it? Anyway, that sort of thing, and I pushed it under his door before I went to bed.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t sleep with him?’
I could see she was on the edge of becoming indignant. ‘Well, I know I’ve been a bit of a slapper in my time, but I think I’d have remembered if I’d gone to bed with Damian Baxter on that ghastly evening. I cannot believe I would have forgotten any detail about that particular night.’
‘No.’ I stared at my cup. Was I back at square one? It didn’t seem possible.
My words were still running round her brain. ‘He woke up and found a woman in his bed, making love to him?’ I nodded and she threw back her head, laughing. ‘Trust Damian. Just when life couldn’t get any lower, he finds himself in the middle of a scene from a James Bond film.’ Her mirth had subsided into chuckles.
‘But it wasn’t you.’
‘I can assure I would remember if I made a habit of that sort of thing.’
And then I knew.
Lady Belton was upstairs, apparently, but she would be delighted to see me if I wouldn’t mind waiting in the Morning Room since, rather illogically to my mind, this was apparently where her ladyship always had tea. I would be delighted.
The Morning Room was one of the prettier rooms at Waverly, cosy rather than grand, but with some of their best pictures and a really beautiful, ladies’ desk by John Linnell, which I would say was currently used by Serena, since it was covered in papers and letters and invitations waiting to be answered. The nice woman from the village who had let me in was settling the tea things as Serena arrived. ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Burnish.’ She had already acquired that slightly heartless charm that is assumed by the well-bred to ensure good service, rather than because of any touching of their heart strings. In fact, I could see in her poise and her clothes and even in her smile, that Serena was well on the way to being what is still sometimes called a great lady. ‘How lovely to see you again so soon,’ she said and kissed me on both cheeks. The fact that the last time we’d met we had made love, and not just love but the most passionate love of my entire life, was somehow, in a way that I cannot exactly define, boxed up and removed to a safe distance by her manner and tone. She was warm and friendly, but I knew then it would never be repeated.
‘I can’t believe you don’t know why I’m here.’
She had poured herself some tea and now she sat, carefully smoothing th
e folds of her skirt as she did so. She took a sip, then looked at me and gave rather a shy smile. ‘I bet I do. Candida rang to tell me what you’d said.’ Unusually, she seemed rather embarrassed, an emotion I would not naturally attribute to her. ‘I don’t want you to think I always go around sliding into the beds of sleeping men.’
‘You told me yourself it was only with men who are in love with you.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you for remembering that.’
‘I remember everything,’ I said.
She started to talk again. It was obviously a relief finally to let it out. ‘I wasn’t sure at first, because I felt, if he were interested, he would have done something when I sent that idiotic letter. But he did nothing. Nothing at all and I know, because in those days, twenty years ago, I was still in touch with quite a few of the girls who might have written it. What’s changed?’
‘He’s dying.’
Which brought her down to earth. ‘Yes. Of course.’ She looked at the ceiling for a moment. ‘I want to explain. About that night in Estoril. I’ve felt guilty for so many years, particularly over you.’
‘Why me?’
‘Because you were the one who got it in the neck. All you’d done was ask him to a few parties, and suddenly you were labelled a crawling, social-climbing toady and Christ knows what. It must have been awful.’
‘It wasn’t great.’
‘More to the point, it wasn’t true. Most of all what he said about your feelings for me. I know that. I knew it then.’ Serena gave me a slightly secret smile, the one open acknowledgement of what we had enjoyed together, and I was rather glad of it. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. ‘How much have you heard about what went on at my ball?’
‘Most of it, I think. But only now.’
‘Damian told me he’d used me, he wasn’t in love with me, I was better off without him, all of it. And I just stood there because I couldn’t believe the words he was saying. The music was still playing and some girl was laughing in the anteroom just beyond the door, and I remember thinking how can you be laughing when I’m in here having my life shattered? I loved him with every fibre of my being, you see. I wanted to run away with him, to be with him, to love him to the end of my days and if it meant breaking with everyone I would have done it. But when he started to talk I just froze. I suppose I was in shock, as they say now, but I don’t think we had “shock” in those days. I think you were just supposed to go for a walk and get on with it. Anyway, he stopped and he waited for me to speak. And after a bit I looked at him and said, “Well, if you really think it’s for the best.” And when I was silent he nodded and he gave a funny little bow. I’ve thought of that so often. I can picture it now. A little bow, like a waiter or some assistant at the embassy who’s been sent to make sure you change trains properly, to escort you from the Gare du Nord to the Gare d’Austerlitz or something. Then he left. And I went out on to the terrace, and after a bit I came in again and danced with you.’
‘And I was so glad of it.’
But this time she wanted to tell me the whole story. ‘After that I didn’t really care what happened to me. I suppose I must have had a sort of nervous breakdown, but again, in those days people like us didn’t have nervous breakdowns. That was the sort of thing actresses did, and men who’d embezzled their customers’ money. I think people like us were just a bit under the weather, or getting out of the rat race or taking a break. Mummy and Daddy were pushing me and pushing me at Andrew, and he was keen.’ She stopped, catching my expression. ‘No, he was keen. I know you don’t like him, but he isn’t as bad as you think.’ I made a sort of accepting expression to cover myself. ‘And I didn’t know what else to do. We weren’t trained for anything, then.’
‘I know.’
‘It seemed a way out. I knew Damian didn’t want me, and since I thought of him morning, noon and night, I didn’t see what else to do. Anyway, the point is…’ She shrugged, helplessly. ‘That’s what happened. That is what happened to me.’ She stopped and sighed. Then, suddenly she shivered and, looking up, caught my eye. ‘Somebody walked over my grave.’ What a strange and haunting saying that is. We sat for a moment in silence until Serena said brightly, ‘Do you want some more tea?’
‘Please.’ I held out my cup.
There was more. ‘So I got married and I was pregnant fairly soon and you know, all of that stuff is quite exciting when it’s going on, and there’s lots to do and lots to buy and lots of people making a fuss of you, and I sort of forgot how unhappy I was for a while, and then, when Mary was born, Candida came to see me and we started to talk. And she said something like it wouldn’t have worked with Damian, not when my parents were so against him, or words to that effect, and I hadn’t known they were against him. I mean, I could guess they weren’t for him, I knew that from the dinner, but I didn’t think they’d had a chance to be against him in any thought-out way, because he’d confessed his base motives and dumped me before they’d got to know him. And then I heard what had gone on. Do you know about that?’ I nodded.
Serena was getting angrier. I could see it. Even though all her training was to keep such emotions under wraps, still she could not prevent a trace of her rage from seeping out. She put down her cup and stood, fiddling nervously with the ornaments and invitations that littered the mantelshelf. ‘The more I thought about it, the more furious I felt at what had been done to me. Because now I understood why I’d been bundled up with Andrew. And eventually I decided I had to see Damian again. I had to.’ She was almost panting. I would doubt she had gone over this ground in any detail for quite a time. ‘You know the next bit.’
‘I do.’
‘Of course, once my parents had pushed in, let alone my ma-in-law, I should have cancelled, but I was so desperate just to set eyes on him, just to touch his hand, just to smell him that I didn’t. In retrospect, I suppose they must have been afraid something of the sort was going on.’
‘It certainly sounds like it.’
‘But after I heard you were bringing him it was more than I could do to back out. I knew I should but I couldn’t make myself. So that evening we arrived at your villa and we set off for the walk down the beach. And I asked him about what he’d said and he admitted it had all been a lie. None of it was true. He was in love with me, he said. He would always love me. And I told him that if he’d only told me the truth and not lied at the dance, I would have come away with him that night. I would have packed and left and married him the minute I was twenty-one, and we would have been together for the rest of our lives. He said that he thought he’d done the right thing, the honourable thing.’
‘He had.’
She turned on me, her eyes flashing with fury. ‘Had he? Then fuck your honour! Fuck his stupid honour! I don’t care what his motives were. He lied to me and he ruined our lives!’
‘That was the “deceit” you mentioned in the letter, I thought it was something else.’
She frowned for a moment, trying to make sense of this. ‘Oh, you mean promising love to get me into bed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, he was the opposite. He feigned indifference. That was the lie.’
‘Why didn’t you leave Andrew? When you knew?’
Serena’s anger appeared to be settling. ‘That was my weakness,’ she said sadly. ‘That was the weakness I wrote about.’ She returned to her chair and sat again. ‘Damian asked me that. He said if I felt as I did it was the only thing we could do. He begged me to. But it was a different time. You know what they say: The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. I had a baby. I had family coming out of my ears. The scandal would have been huge, even in 1970, and while my parents were responsible in a way-’
‘In a way?’
She nodded. ‘All right. They were responsible, but they thought they were acting in my best interests.’ She caught my expression. ‘Well, they thought their best interests were my best interests.’ She paused. ‘And I was tired of being pushe
d and pulled, this way and that, but…’ She almost groaned and I could feel her breath as it left her body. ‘Of course, if it happened today I would have gone with him. I should have gone. I should have done it, but my nerve failed me when it came to it. Damian was half the reason for the waste of our lives. But I was the other half.’
‘And later that night?’
Now she almost smiled at the memory. ‘We were back at the house we’d rented, which wasn’t very far, and of course everyone was absolutely reeling. They helped themselves to huge drinks, even Lady B., and staggered into the many bathrooms to de-fish themselves, and so did I. And after that we all collapsed. But when Andrew went off to bed I said I wasn’t tired. I wanted to stay up. I waited until I knew he’d be asleep, then I walked back.’
‘You walked?’
‘I know. One wouldn’t do it now, would one? Or perhaps you would, if you were young and in love and desperate. Perhaps some things never change. I knew which Damian’s room was, lord knows, as we’d all seen him flounce into it. I’m not sure exactly what I’d have done if the door had been locked. These days it would be locked, wouldn’t it?’
‘You’d have woken him up.’
‘Yes. I suppose so. But it wasn’t, so I slid in, climbed into bed and made love to him in the pitch dark for what I knew would be the last time. He was sort of awake after a bit, but not very, even then. I didn’t mind. I was saying goodbye to the life I should have had. It was a private moment, really.’
‘But why was it the last time? Even if you weren’t prepared to divorce, you could have gone on with the affair.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I couldn’t have been his mistress, making up lunch dates with girlfriends and pretending to miss the train. That wasn’t for us. That wasn’t who we were. We should have formed a union that bestrode the world and frightened anyone who stood in our way. We weren’t a backstreets number, with telephones being put down when the hubby answers. Absolutely not. Once I’d decided not to leave Andrew, from that second it was over.’
‘I hope Andrew has some inkling of what he owes you.’
Past Imperfect Page 47
