Statues in a Garden

by Isabel Colegate

  He hadn’t listened to a word. He hadn’t so much been thinking of something else as of nothing. Nothing much anyway. Concentrating on keeping in tune with the engine, enjoying the sun. He nodded gravely, but it didn’t seem to be enough, so he said, ‘There’s evil about certainly,’ a phrase which he found useful.

  ‘Love conquers evil,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t say it had been proved.’

  They joined the main road. They liked the main road and confidently ignored the twenty-miles-an-hour speed limit, knowing that when the local police saw the Silver Wraith hurtling down the straight before the Charleswood turning, they said respectfully, ‘There goes old Mrs Weston.’ She leant forward. ‘Let’s see if we can beat sixty,’ she said. It was their record so far.

  One evening Philip made a scene and broke some things.

  He had been talking to Horgan on the telephone. Horgan had told him that he had sold Aylmer’s and Edmund’s shares at last. They had gone down from 42s, at which price Aylmer had bought them, to 2s. Aylmer had lost nearly £9,000. Edmund £3,000. They did not yet know, but must know within a day or two when they had to sign the transfers. It was the second time that week that Philip had telephoned Horgan, but if he had been in the office himself he could probably have got rid of the shares a little earlier, so that the losses would have been slightly less.

  ‘You know what I feel about it,’ he said to Horgan, ‘and what a nasty position I’m going to be in when they find out. To be frank, I’m relying on you to find me some way of making a bit of it back. I’m simply relying on your help I’ve got to, but I think I’m right to do it. You know you owe me something for having helped you in the way I did, though I knew I was running a risk, and I know you won’t forget it.’

  ‘Sure, boy, sure, don’t worry. Get back to the office as quick as you can and we’ll see what we can do I’m full of schemes. We’ll have a night out and talk about it thoroughly. I’ve got a new girl I want you to meet. Just you throw off that flu germ and get back here and we’ll get things moving.’

  A night out and a new girl sounded most unlike Horgan, who usually went quietly home to his hotel after working late at his office and had never in Philip’s hearing spoken of girls at all. He ought really to be there in the office keeping an eye on him.

  Philip thought, A man does not like to feel tied. Besides, there is the future I am temporarily infatuated, but it will not last. What does she expect? What of Aylmer? And I have to go back to the office, and Horgan I shall let all that slip through my fingers if I don’t. Women don’t understand these things I must get back to Horgan. He is normal. That is real life. Not this. A man does not like to feel tied. But as he thought all this he thought at the same time of Cynthia, simply of her presence, and was confounded.

  But he said to her that night, ‘I must go back.’

  He was standing by her dressing table. She was in bed. He had just come in, in his silk dressing gown.

  ‘I know,’ she said soothingly. She held a book on her knees. It was Travels with a Donkey. Stevenson was her favourite author.

  ‘You are not paying attention,’ he said irritably.

  ‘But of course I am. I know you must go back. But must we talk about it?’

  ‘Don’t you mind?’

  ‘Yes, I mind.’

  ‘You don’t seem to.’

  ‘I only mean, we mustn’t panic. Please, Philip, don’t think about disagreeable things’

  ‘I don’t understand how you can say that.’

  ‘Why are you so cross?’

  ‘You don’t love me.’

  ‘Philip.’

  ‘You don’t. Or you couldn’t be so calm about it. You’re beginning to feel you want to get rid of me.’

  ‘My dear. Nothing could be more wrong. You know that.’

  ‘It isn’t wrong. You’re tired of me. It was just a temporary infatuation. You wanted a young man, because Aylmer didn’t satisfy you, isn’t that it?’

  ‘Why are you trying to be destructive? Did you tear off butterflies’ wings when you were a little boy?’

  ‘You know perfectly well what I did when I was a little boy.’

  ‘Not when you were a very little boy. You were eight when I first saw you. You had a brown skin and bright light eyes. You looked much healthier then than you do now.’

  ‘I probably was healthier I had not been civilized.’

  ‘There is nothing wrong with being civilized, is there?’

  ‘Civilization is foul.’

  ‘Not as foul as non-civilization. I didn’t know you were a romantic.’

  ‘I am not. I am the opposite of a romantic Romanticism is lies. It is you who are a romantic. You romanticize us. We need it, that I grant you.’

  ‘I don’t think I do. I don’t mean to I feel everything that I say I feel. Surely you believe that?’

  ‘I don’t know what to believe. I want to go.’

  ‘Then of course you must.’

  ‘And never see you again?’

  ‘Well, but we shall meet surely,’ she said rather hesitantly. ‘I mean, in the family, and – this is your home after all.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that.’

  ‘Could we not meet in London?’

  ‘You would do that?’

  ‘Yes I think so.’

  ‘What about Aylmer?’

  ‘I don’t know. I love you. But why do we have to think about all this now?’

  ‘It won’t get any easier if we put it off. We meet in London then. How often? Mondays and Thursdays do you think? From 5 o’clock till 6 in a room in Pimlico?’

  ‘Don’t.’

  ‘You would do this?’

  ‘If you wanted me to, I think I would.’

  ‘Is that the sort of example a mother should set her son?’

  ‘You are not my son.’

  ‘You used to be for ever telling me that I was I suppose that was self defence.’

  ‘Why have you turned like this? What has gone wrong? We were so happy, I thought. And as for what I was always telling you, you were always telling me to change, and not do things in self defence, and not pretend with you I have done what you wanted. You said it was what you wanted.’

  ‘Now you blame me. You say it is all my fault. It’s not fair.’ He was very angry. ‘I didn’t want you to change. I wanted to be your husband, that’s all, I didn’t want to have you twice a week in a hired room. You didn’t understand, you’re too crude, I wanted not that. And now it’s too late. You’re my mistress, I’m your lover, for ever and ever. For ever and ever, do you see?’

  She only gazed at him.

  ‘Don’t you see what you have done?’ he shouted.

  ‘What I have done?’ she repeated ‘But you have done it.’

  ‘No!’ Furiously, he swept his arm across her dressing table. The mirror crashed to the ground, with all her little boxes and pretty bottles strewn around it. He stamped on it and it splintered. He shouted again, ‘I didn’t want to know that what I guessed was true. Don’t you see?’

  ‘But you made it true,’ she said. ‘By believing it.’

  ‘What are you saying? It’s not my fault. Have I got to bear all the guilt as well as everything else? What are you doing to me?’

  ‘I am not doing anything. Please be reasonable. Come here and sit down.’

  He sat down on her bed, leaving the wreckage. She held his hand, and they remained in silence. At last she lifted his hand and kissed it gently.

  ‘Cynthia.’ He held her face in both of his hands and gazed at it, saying, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’

  Beatrice found them the next morning when she came to call Cynthia, their dark heads turned away from each other on the pillow, their bodies, lightly covered by a sheet and a blanket, not touching any more, but resting. The other bed clothes were on the floor. So was the wreckage from the dressing table.

  Beatrice shut the door quickly.

  The click of the handle woke Philip, who got up and went back to his o
wn room.

  Half an hour later Beatrice called Cynthia.

  Cynthia, stretching, said, ‘Oh Beatrice, the wind or something. I wonder if you’d mind clearing up the mess?’

  20

  House of Commons,

  SW

  14th July, 1914

  My dear,

  All well here.

  Scene in the library on a hot summer afternoon three Tory Members fast asleep, their round red faces raised to heaven snoring their thanks for their good lunch, a worthy Lib Lab battling with the books of reference, seeking stuff with which later on to sweep the three good Tories’ foundations from under their feet (he thinks), an Irish Member glowering at the Pink ‘Un, and a mild middle aged Liberal with a perpetually puzzled frown (it’s the ways of man, you see, that baffle him) sitting in a corner, writing to his wife.

  We have been working furiously for this conference. The other people concerned are Asquith and Lloyd George for our side, Bonar Law and Lansdowne for the Tories, Carson and Craig for Ulster and Redmond and Dillon for the Nationalists. From our preliminary work I would say there may be a good chance of success. It would be gratifying, wouldn’t it, to get this tedious problem out of the way before the summer recess? The general tone is still far too quarrelsome, and Carson no less ludicrously autocratic, but I think there are enough men of goodwill to prevail. I hope to slip away early on Thursday so as to have a decent week end for once. Reggie seemed to think they might like to come over on Sunday.

  It has been hot. I have thought of you under the weeping ash. The international situation is improving. It seems as though Serbia will accept Austria’s ultimatum, severe though the terms of it were. And so another little crisis is survived. It is unreal somehow – no one in their right mind wants war, and yet we progress from crisis to crisis – but no one does want war, for even the most puffed up Prussian is not a madman, and the modern financial set up is such that we should all, friend and foe alike, be bankrupt after a few weeks of war. But peace, which seems such a simple affair, is cruelly complicated after all.

  I saw Tammy for a moment at the Club. He said Kitty had charmed everybody and been very amusing and pretty. They were also delighted by our Miss Benedict, and said she was a quite exceptional personality. I am inclined to agree. And then, walking back to the House from the Club, across the park, I ran into Ida and a whole collection of her friends on their way back from some good work or other, wearing their charity hats, very sweet and high spirited. She reminded me about the last time she came to stay and about how we played – apparently, though I must confess I had forgotten all about it – some sort of statue game. Anyway she hailed me as Goodwill personified, rather to the others’ surprise. You, it seems, were the very meaning and essence of life itself – a heavy role.

  That was what I had to tell you, then, that I hope to be home on Thursday, in time for tea, and that I hope to find you very well, and quite rested, and ready for some long walks with

  your loving

  Aylmer

  21

  Philip returned to London on Wednesday night. Cynthia had begged him to stay and to be there when Aylmer arrived. She had said, ‘It will be easier. We shall get it over When we are all together we shall remember how fond we are of him and he will be the same as ever and there will be nothing to worry about.’ But Philip would not stay. ‘I’ll come back on Friday,’ he said, ‘with Edmund. We’ll come together, and Kitty will be back by then, and it will be just the usual sort of family thing. That will make it easier.’

  Privately he thought he might not come back, out of cowardice, but that was on Wednesday. On Friday he telephoned Edmund and arranged to travel down with him.

  He found him waiting for him on the platform at Paddington. Edmund had changed into his country clothes, a light Prince of Wales suit, a soft hat and suede shoes, a correct and pleasing figure, solid amid the encircling steam of Paddington.

  ‘I’ve got seats. It looks as if we may have the carriage to ourselves,’ he said.

  Philip saw at once that something was wrong. The frank gaze of the blue eyes was withheld. Philip felt suddenly a little frightened. Edmund’s disapproval could be very chilling. It’s the money, he thought. It was.

  ‘I was sent a rather worrying document this morning,’ said Edmund, after the train had pulled out of the station and it had become clear that they were indeed the only people in the carriage.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Philip.

  ‘It was about my Cape Enterprise shares,’ said Edmund.

  ‘Ah,’ said Philip. ‘I had hoped to have a chance to talk to you about that before they sent you the transfers.’

  ‘I suppose there was some mistake?’ said Edmund. ‘I mean, according to what I received this morning I’ve lost £3,000.’

  ‘It’s been a failure, I’m afraid I do feel extremely embarrassed about it, which was why I was hoping to be able to talk to you about it first. As you know, I said a week ago that I would sell Aylmer’s and your shares as soon as I could and for as fair a price as I could get, and that we should have to regard it as a failure and cut our losses and hope to do better next time.’

  ‘Next time?’ repeated Edmund, with a certain blankness.

  ‘I do of course regard it as my responsibility. I thought we were on to a good thing, you see, and I was quite simply wrong. But I know a little more about this business now and I’m determined to find another investment which really will fructify.’

  ‘You mean you want us to give you some more money?’

  ‘I mean that I want to find a really good investment for you.’

  ‘But I can’t afford another investment. Look here, Philip, I don’t think you realize quite how serious this is. How much has Father lost?’

  ‘About £9,000. I do realize how serious it is.’

  ‘£9,000. But he can’t afford it. He simply can’t. We shall have to start selling or we shall be in bad trouble. I shall have to arrange it tomorrow. Does Father know?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I thought not. He’s even more hopeless about that sort of thing than I am. Look here, old boy, I know this is bad luck on you, but do you realize your wretched schemes are going to force us to break up the estate, sell land we’ve owned for hundreds of years? We’ll have to sell at least one farm.’

  ‘Please don’t do that without going into the whole thing very carefully. It would be much better to borrow. And there is this new scheme of Horgan’s, which is quite a different affair.’

  ‘I am not going to the money lenders.’

  ‘I mean the bank.’

  ‘Both of us already have bank loans. And as for new schemes of your friend Horgan. No, no, Philip, this is a very bad business. Have you lost money too?’

  ‘A little. But my investment was smaller.’

  ‘And Mother?’

  ‘Very little.’

  ‘At least one is supposed to enjoy gambling in the ordinary way. But this way seems to have no advantages whatsoever.’

  ‘I wish you would believe me when I say that I mean to make it up.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By the opposite process.’

  ‘We can’t let you experiment with our money any more or we shall have none left. And you haven’t any of your own.’

  ‘I shall make it. You may sneer at Horgan’s schemes, but this one is going to make a great deal of money. It is a speculation in property. He has bought.’

  ‘I don’t want to know,’ Edmund stood up abruptly. ‘No, I’m sorry about this, Philip. I’ll write it off as money given to you to get you going in what you want to do. And so will Father, I feel sure. And he will do it with a far better grace than I can because he is a far better person. I’m going along to get a drink.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Philip, rather loudly. ‘What more can I say except that I’m sorry? I won’t say this again, but you will see that I will make it up one day before very long. But I fully agree with you that the whole business is quite simply bloody.’


  Edmund turned, sat down again in the corner opposite to Philip.

  ‘I know,’ he said. He sat in silence, feeling his anger against Philip slowly dissipating. ‘I dare say the same thing would have happened to me,’ he said after a time. But as soon as he had said it they both realized that it was not true. Edmund had always been more competent than Philip. But without giving the thought time to feed his bitterness, Edmund went on, ‘You see, it’s come at a very bad time for me. I was thinking of getting married.’

  Philip only groaned slightly. Everything was going very very badly indeed.

  After a time he said, ‘Would you do one thing? I have a slight problem with Aylmer, that is to say I want to have a day, just a day, with Aylmer before he knows about this thing. They’ll have sent the transfers to his London address, so he won’t have got them and he needn’t know till you tell him. Otherwise it will be impossible, I can’t explain why but I’ll never be able to speak to him again unless I have just one day, one ordinary day with him, before he finds out. Could you do that? It’s terribly important.’

  ‘I ought to discuss it with him tomorrow so that we can decide what steps to take.’

  ‘Please. It’s almost a matter of life and death. I can’t tell you why but please wait for a day.’