by David Nobbs
‘Elizabeth, this is Bunny, Oliver’s wife. Bunny, I don’t think you’ve met my daughter.’
‘No. We keep meaning to have you over,’ said Bunny, ‘but the opportunity doesn’t seem to arise, you know how it is.’
Elizabeth looked as if she didn’t know how it was. Kate had a wild hope that she’d say something like ‘No. Your wedding would have been a perfect opportunity, had we been invited’, but Elizabeth had more sense than that, though what she actually said didn’t show a great deal of sense. She said, ‘No. Of course I know Uncle Oliver well. I used to see him a lot.’ That would have been all right if she hadn’t blushed furiously afterwards. Kate heard herself say, ‘Oh, and this is her friend Sylvie,’ and Sylvie’s voice said ‘How do you do?’ while her eyes said, ‘What do you take me for? A bloody afterthought?’ and then Elizabeth said, ‘Oh, there’s Maurice over there. Excuse me’ and slid off with Sylvie in tow.
Kate gave up on the plan to find people to whom it would be safe to introduce Bunny. She decided to find someone to whom it would be unsafe. Daphne Stoneyhurst loomed up at that very moment like a lighthouse in a fog. The gash of her mouth was more scarlet than ever, like a raw wound. Her hair was a grey beehive. Her cigar was slightly wet. ‘Daphne,’ said Kate, ‘this is a very good friend of mine, well, she’s married to my brother, Bunny Thomas. You’ll like Daphne, Bunny. She’s lesbian.’
Kate moved away, leaving them to it, feeling a momentary exhilaration which died away when she saw Enid standing shyly at the entrance to the main gallery. Enid’s face was pale and tense. Her make-up and clothes, over which she had laboured and worried, looked desperately provincial. Kate hurried over to her.
‘Enid! You came! Says she, stating the obvious.’
She kissed Enid warmly.
‘I’ve been awful,’ said Enid. ‘We couldn’t both come. Mother and Father need looking after now. Annie suggested we toss for it to see who should go. “Annie!” I said. “That’d be tantamount to gambling. Gambling in my father’s house? Never! No, Annie,” I said, “I’m Kate’s sister. You aren’t. This one’s for me.” I’m ashamed of myself.’
‘Why? It’s true. It’s you I wanted.’
‘Now I wish I hadn’t come.’
‘Why?’
‘Look at all these people. I never thought there’d be so many people. I won’t be able to think of a thing to . . . oh, my goodness me, there’s that dreadful lesbian woman.’
‘She isn’t dreadful. She fancied you. She probably still does.’
‘Oh, Kate!’
‘Enid, you don’t need to talk to a soul. You can just look at the pictures, which are wonderful. After all, that’s what we’re all supposed to be here for.’
‘I won’t know what to make of them.’
‘Yes, you will, and even if you don’t, no one will know unless you tell them. But there are plenty of people to talk to. There’s Bernard, looking very ill, he needs you; there’s a chance to spot that shy disappearing species, the Oliver, and that rare bird of prey, the Bunny. Maurice is here somewhere, Timothy, Nigel and Elizabeth.’
‘We’ll all huddle together like a group of frightened immigrants.’
‘You don’t have to. You can talk to anyone. Just don’t mention death.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘Nothing. Now go on.’
Kate left her sister to it and began a parade of the room. She went up to Maurice and his beautiful blonde girlfriend Clare. Maurice might not be big and strong like Nigel or sensitive and needing to be mothered like Timothy but there was something about him that the girls adored and Kate wasn’t surprised that Clare was so beautiful.
‘You’re beautiful,’ she said.
‘The second most beautiful woman in the room,’ said Maurice boldly.
‘I’m a researcher at the BBC,’ said Clare.
‘Of course you are,’ said Kate.
She moved on to Timothy and his fiancée Milly. She couldn’t remember now what Milly had looked like.
‘Mum, you look stunning,’ said Timothy.
‘Sorry, I don’t want to stun,’ said Kate. ‘How are things at Brasenose Preparatory School?’
‘Excellent. We’re very happy.’
‘He’s started a book,’ said Milly. ‘A novel.’
‘I always told him he should read more,’ said Kate.
‘No, he’s writing one.’
‘I’m sorry, Milly, I did realise that. I was trying to be funny. It’s a failing of mine. What sort of book?’
‘A detective novel.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t sound disappointed, Mum. They sell.’
‘Oh, I know.’
‘What would you rather, a searing exposé of Western civilisation that sells ten copies?’
‘Yes, frankly.’
Kate moved on. Nigel had come on his own, as usual. Her eldest boy was thirty years old, and she had still to see any evidence of a girlfriend.
‘How are things at Patterson Burns?’ she asked.
‘Excellent. I’ve got a two-pound-a-week rise.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Actually we’re working on some very exciting new drugs. They could be marvellous against all kinds of cancer. It’s looking very exciting.’
‘Well, go and tell Uncle Bernard.’
‘Oh, I don’t imagine they’ll be much use to him. We aren’t talking that kind of time-scale.’
‘Nigel!’
‘I’m sorry, Mother, but we aren’t. I’m not being callous. Uncle Bernard needs treatment now. These’ll be several years a-testing. Thousands of mice will bravely lay down their lives before . . .’
‘Yes, well, we’ll have to discuss the ethical implications of animal testing some other time, Nigel. But do go and talk to Uncle Bernard anyway.’
‘I will, Mother. I’m very fond of Uncle Bernard. I didn’t mean I think he’s going to die next week. I just meant, he can’t afford to wait years for a treatment to start.’
He gave her a quick kiss and moved off in search of Bernard, and Kate grasped the nettle that was Stanley Wainwright, whose intertwined pistons had caused many a ribald comment among the workers at Boothroyd and Copson. Stanley was also wearing a bow-tie, with a very smart grey suit. No outré artistic touches here.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘doesn’t this take one back?’
‘Not advisable,’ said Stanley. ‘Never look back.’
‘Oh, Stanley, it’s one of the great pleasures of life. It’s one of the great achievements of the human brain. It’s one of the things that distinguish us from animals. Beavers don’t wax nostalgic. Badgers don’t have old sett reunions.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I don’t. I’m talking nonsense as usual. Oh but, Stanley, I look back on Tregarryn with an excruciating cocktail of pleasure and regret. The pictures are good, aren’t they?’
‘Very good. I always said he was a significant minor talent.’
‘You never said anything of the kind and I think he’s a major talent.’
‘Kate, that is nonsense and you know it. Yes, there’s something there, but don’t exaggerate it. No, looking back on Tregarryn, as you want me to, one would have to say we didn’t do badly. One minor talent, one major talent and one very decent commercial success.’
‘Is that how you describe yourself – “a very decent commercial success”?’
‘Stop teasing, Kate.’
‘Oh! Sorry! Are you the major talent?’
‘Well, you didn’t think it was Daphne, did you?’
‘No. No, I didn’t.’
‘Kate, I have an international reputation. It’d be false modesty to describe myself as anything but a major talent. This exhibition is very interesting, probably be very successful. It’s a long time since I went to a private view where anybody looked at the pictures. I wouldn’t be surprised if it sold out.’
‘Like you, you mean?’
‘What?’
‘You’ve sold out.’
‘Wh
y are you so offensive to me, Kate?’
‘Because you’ve sold out. I remember your ideals. No wonder you don’t want to look back. How’s Jasmine?’
‘I grew tired of her. Kate, I still have those ideals, but there’s more than one way of breaking eggs.’ He paused, vaguely aware that that wasn’t quite what he meant. ‘There’s no future in battering at the door. I work from the inside. Take my Mammon I did for that bank. There’s a sly, subtle suggestion of greed and self-destruction there.’
‘So sly and subtle the bank didn’t spot it.’
‘Well, quite. They wouldn’t have accepted it if they had.’
‘The critics didn’t spot it.’
‘A notoriously dim lot.’
‘I didn’t spot it.’
‘No comment.’
Kate moved on. She felt a surprising desire to talk to Daphne. But on her way she encountered Oliver and Bunny.
‘We’re leaving,’ said Oliver. ‘I have an early start tomorrow. Thank you for inviting us.’
‘Thank you for coming. How did you get on with Daphne, Bunny?’
‘How could you leave me with that dreadful woman? She made a most unpleasant suggestion.’
‘Really? What?’
‘She asked me to meet her under the clock at Waterloo station at twelve o’clock tomorrow.’
‘Oh, is that all? What did you say?’
‘Nothing. I rather like the thought of her waiting there. Come on, Oliver.’
‘Must you go so soon?’
‘To be honest, Kate,’ said Oliver, ‘I don’t want to be part of a little Welsh huddle in the corner. It’s so provincial.’
Kate suspected that the real reason for their early departure was that Oliver didn’t cut his usual dash in this gathering. The suave, handsome surgeon, well groomed, impeccably turned out, adored by all the nurses, was just a nobody in this seething mass of metropolitan egos and eccentricities.
She kissed him warmly, but felt that she had lost him.
‘Kate!’
‘Daphne!’
They hugged each other so warmly that several people, knowing Daphne’s proclivities, began to reassess Kate’s sexuality. But Kate was motivated only by affection, by a depth of affection that astonished her.
‘What a waste,’ said Daphne.
‘That he died before this night, you mean?’
‘No, no. Well, yes, yes, but no, I meant us.’
‘Us?’
‘It’s not like you to be so slow. You and me. That is, I believe, the usual meaning of “us”. Our bodies are made for each other, and you refuse.’
‘I know, it must be awful for you, such beauty and none of it for you.’ They laughed, then Kate turned serious. ‘Well, what do you think of our Daniel now?’
‘Magnificent. Tragic. All this talent, never appreciated in his lifetime. And me, with my little talent, selling steadily. Kate, I can hardly bear the pathos of this night. You’re astonished.’
‘Yes. I feel like that. I had no idea you did.’
‘I’d like to say I always knew how good he was. You did. I’m not sure I did. Kate, that was a most horrendous woman you introduced me to.’
‘I thought you liked her. You asked her to meet you under the clock at Waterloo.’
‘I wanted to shock her. You don’t think there’s a chance she’ll go? That’d be fun.’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Pity. She had no sense of humour at all. Said she was Bunny Thomas, previously Bunny Parr-Parkinson, née Loosely. I said, “I have no intention of making an exhibition of myself, that would be an exhibition too far, and how do you neigh loosely, anyway?” and she said, “No, no, that was my maiden name.” Horrendous woman.’
‘She’s married to my brother.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Kate.’
‘Yes, I think he is too. Daniel told me once you tried to seduce him. Climbed into his bed.’
‘Yes, I do sometimes fancy men, when I’m on the cusp. I’m on the cusp today. I could happily seduce that man who’s just walked in with that gorgeous woman who is almost as attractive as you, and a great deal younger. In fact, I could fancy them both!’
Kate turned and felt her knees almost buckle beneath her.
‘That man was my second and fourth husbands,’ she said.
‘Good God.’
‘Daphne, I like you more than I ever dreamt, let’s be friends, platonic friends, I hasten to add, but now I must walk boldly over to Walter before he walks boldly over to me.’
She was just in time. They met halfway.
‘Kate! You look wonderful!’
‘You don’t look bad yourself.’ He didn’t. A little older, of course. A little ravaged. Beginning to look like a cross between Oscar Wilde and Jean Gabin.
‘This is Linda, my fiancée.’
Kate smiled, hiding the fact that she suddenly felt sick, and shook hands with Linda, who was petite and curvaceous and at least fifteen years younger than Walter, though perhaps not quite young enough for the dirndl skirt that she was wearing. A little too hard and grasping a face, if one wanted to be bitchy, and Kate did, for the Austrian milkmaid look.
‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ said Linda.
Oh Lord.
‘Oh, Walter,’ she said, ‘that’s hardly fair on the girl.’
‘You seem to assume that it must all be to your advantage when comparisons are made,’ said Walter.
Kate realised that she had, but she continued smiling, boy, how she smiled, and she said, ‘I would hardly think so. She’s lovely. I hope you’ll both be very happy.’
She couldn’t stay with Walter and Linda a moment longer, but found herself walking straight towards Heinz. His eyes gleamed at her with compassion spiced with just a little spite.
‘The world doesn’t stand still ever for you, does it?’ he said. ‘So, I’ll ring you tomorrow and we’ll have dinner before I go back.’
‘Excellent.’
She blundered on, aware of admiration as she passed, heard someone say, ‘She called him the sperm count,’ heard everyone laughing, felt grateful but at a distance, as if her ears were blocked at altitude. She caught sight of Enid, a strangely lively, confident Enid, and hurried towards her for protection.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Enid.
‘I feel faint.’
‘Let’s sit down.’
They sat on a seat in the middle of the main gallery, letting the crowd swirl around them.
‘That’s better,’ said Kate.
‘You want to be careful,’ said Enid. ‘Gilbert Watkins whose mother had a goitre fainted in Neath Municipal Art Gallery and cracked his head on the fire alarm.’
‘Died?’
‘No. Set off the alarm and caused five fire engines to rush to the gallery. I’ve been having a good time, Kate.’
‘Marvellous.’
‘It’s been a real eye-opener. The clothes! Mine looked so smart in Marshall and Snelgrove. Here I look provincial.’
‘You look very fetching.’
‘Well, that’s appropriate. I spend a large part of my life fetching.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Father’s very forgetful. I fetch and carry.’
‘Oh, Enid.’
‘But it hasn’t worried me that I look provincial. I don’t care. I love the paintings.’
‘You do?’
‘Oh yes. And I went up to Daphne and said, “Thank you for fancying me all those years ago.”’
‘You didn’t!!’
‘I did. Do you know what she said?’
‘I dread to think.’
‘She said, “Meet me under the clock at Waterloo Station tomorrow at twelve”!’
‘What on earth did you say?’
‘I said, “If it was Paddington I just might make it. I’m catching the one o’clock to Swansea.”’
‘You didn’t! Good old you.’
‘I felt quite metropolitan.’
‘Sometimes I envy you, Enid
.’
‘What?? You envy me?’
‘Your life’s useful. You teach, and obviously teach well. You look after Mother and Father. What do I do?’
‘You’ve had four husbands and four children.’
‘Yes, but what do I do?’
‘You bring sunlight into rooms that need it. You light up people’s lives.’
‘Oh yes. I lit up Arturo’s.’
‘It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t, Kate, and even if it had been it was almost thirty years ago. Kate, you must be proud of yourself. We’re proud of you. You touch our family with glamour. Your adventures thrill poor Annie. Mother’s so proud of you.’
‘Not Father?’
‘Oh, you know, in his way, Father also. You ease his stiffness a little, you bring interest. You keep him alive. Do you know he’s almost walking without his stick? I think he will.’
‘He’s wonderful.’
‘Yes, and so are you. I adore you.’
‘I thought you were jealous.’
‘Oh, of course, sometimes. Not really, though. Not deep down. We live your life with you, Kate, so go on, for us, if not for you. Please, Kate, live it. Live it magnificently.’
‘Enid!’
They hugged and cried and didn’t care if it ruined their make-up. One or two people, seeing them crying together, averted their eyes out of politeness and embarrassment.
‘I’m going to dinner with Bernard,’ said Enid. ‘Will you come too?’
‘Not tonight,’ said Kate. ‘You two will do just fine together.’
‘Please!’
‘How can I refuse?’
They knew that the conversation was over. Without realising how, they found themselves walking in opposite directions. Soon Kate was in conversation with Vincent Anstey, Director of the Corncrake.
‘You knew him well, didn’t you? At Tregarryn in particular.’
‘Yes.’
‘A great talent.’
‘Yes. When did you first come across him?’
Vincent Anstey made a rapid calculation in his head.
‘Ten . . . twelve years ago? Olga’s been pushing him in our faces for years. Probably did him an enormous disservice.’
‘Really?’
‘We pride ourselves on our judgement in the art world. We don’t like to be told. We like to discover.’
