by Jilly Cooper
‘Not when I’m on duty,’ he said, ‘but I’d love one later.’
Harriet’s only comfort was that Sister Maddox was looking absolutely furious.
When Noel heard that Chattie and William were staying at the Pembertons’, she went off and had a long telephone conversation with Elizabeth.
When she returned her attitude was distinctly less friendly towards Harriet. Oh God, I bet Elizabeth mentioned something about my being wrapped round Cory at the Hunt Ball, thought Harriet.
Noel’s main preoccupation now seemed to be to get her out of the hospital before Cory came back.
‘I really don’t feel we can dump William and Chattie on Elizabeth any longer,’ she said, ‘particularly when William’s teething and keeping them up every night. I think you should go and collect them, and take them home.’
‘Sammy really doesn’t mind looking after them,’ said Harriet. ‘I would like to stay here with Jonah, just another night.’
‘Are you quite sure you’re the best person?’ said Noel gently. ‘People here seem to think you’re rather — well — overemotional.’
‘I l-love him,’ stammered Harriet. ‘I was worried.’
‘I quite realize that, but you must remember you’re well, only. .’
‘The nanny.’ Harriet felt herself going very red in the face.
‘Exactly,’ said Noel, pouring herself another glass of wine. ‘And it’s your duty to go home and look after Chattie and William, so I’d like you to pack your things at once, and my driver will take you home, and you can collect the children on the way.’
‘But Mr Erskine left me in charge of the children. I’m sure he’d want me to stay.’
Noel lost her temper.
‘I’ve been married to Cory for ten years. I think I know him slightly better than you. The thing he’ll like best when he arrives is to find me here with Jonah.’
Harriet was beaten. She went next door and began to gather up her things. She heard Jonah waking up again and complaining that his head ached, and could he have some iced water. Noel poked her head through the door.
‘Could you just pop down and get me some ice,’ she said.
Running the tray under the tap to get out the ice cubes, Harriet suddenly thought she’d burst if she didn’t see Cory. I hate Noel, I hate her, I hate her.
Then soon she heard a quick step in the passage and there was Cory walking past. Her heart lurched. She tried to call out to him, but her voice stuck in her throat. She went out into the passage. It required the greatest control of her life not to run after him.
As it was, she reached the door in time to see Noel leaping to her feet. The next moment Cory had taken her in his arms and was comforting her as she sobbed with great restraint, but not enough to spoil her make-up. I can’t bear it, thought Harriet, her nails digging into her hands.
She saw Cory let Noel go, and move forward to speak to Jonah. She tiptoed forward trying to hear what he was saying.
But Sister Maddox was too quick for her. The faster Noel transferred her attentions to Cory and got her claws out of Dr Williams the better.
‘I think the family would all like a little time on their own,’ she said firmly. ‘The porter downstairs has just rung up to say the car’s waiting for you.’
Harriet went into the side room, and mindlessly put the rest of her things into the canvas bag Mrs Bottomley had brought.
Then she heard Jonah say, ‘Where’s Harriet?’ And Cory saying, ‘Yes, where is she?’
‘I’m here,’ said Harriet, pushing open the door.
Cory was sitting on the bed holding Jonah’s hand. Harriet expected him to be pale and drawn. But he was tanned dark brown by the Los Angeles sun. Never had he seemed more handsome — or more beyond her reach. He looked up quickly, full of concern. ‘My God, what you must have been through! I’m sorry I wasn’t here.’
‘I’m so glad you’ve come now,’ she muttered, fighting back the tears.
‘All I can say is thank you,’ he said. ‘Sit down. You look absolutely knackered. Are you up to telling me something about it?’
‘My driver’s waiting to take her home, Cory,’ said Noel in icy tones. ‘She’s been here for four days. She needs a break. And she’s going to collect Chattie and William. Elizabeth’s looking after them but we can’t leave them with her for ever.’
Cory didn’t turn round.
Jonah, still drowsy, suddenly said, ‘Where’s Mummy?’
‘Here darling,’ said Noel, going towards the bed.
‘Where’s Harriet?’ muttered Jonah.
‘She’s going home, darling.’
‘No,’ said Jonah, sitting bolt upright, suddenly hysterical, ‘I don’t want her to go home. I want her to stay. I want Harriet! I want Harriet!’
‘But I’m here,’ snapped Noel, her lips tightening.
‘But you won’t stay,’ he screamed in desperation. ‘You only say you’ll stay, then you go. Harriet stays all the time.’
He started to cry.
Cory took him by the shoulders, and gently eased him back on the pillow. ‘It’s all right, old boy. Harriet’s not going anywhere.’
He turned to Noel. ‘I took the precaution of getting Kit to find us a temporary nanny. She came up in the plane with me. She took the taxi home. She’s going to look after William and Chattie. I thought as you’d seen the whole thing through you’d probably want to stay with Jonah,’ he added to Harriet.
‘Oh, yes please,’ she whispered.
‘But Cory,’ began Noel. ‘Can we have a brief word?’
Harriet retreated into the side room shutting the door. She was shaking like a leaf. No doubt Noel was telling Cory what a disaster she’d been with all the nurses and doctors. She caught the word ‘hysterical’ several times, and then Noel was saying in acid tones, ‘She complained about Dr Williams, but honestly he couldn’t have been kinder, popping in every five minutes, solicitude and kindness itself. She’s obviously the sort of girl that gets people’s backs up.’
Harriet couldn’t hear Cory’s reply. She collapsed on the bed, holding her clenched fists against her forehead in a desperate attempt to gain control.
A minute later Cory came in, shut the door behind him and sat down on the bed. Her whole body was shaken with sobs.
‘It’s all right, little one,’ he said gently, stroking her hair. ‘I know what you’ve been through.’
‘And I know I’m bad for Jonah at the moment,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m overreacting, but I love him so much, and I thought he was going to die, and no-one would take any notice, and they wouldn’t give him any pain killers, and bloody Dr Williams was so bored with the whole case it wasn’t true. And then she, I mean Noel, turns up this morning, and suddenly everyone rolls up, and starts paying attention to the case, and giving Jonah VIP treatment, and he’s been getting better all day. I know I should be h-happy. I prayed to God, if he m-made Jonah better, I’d never be unhappy again. I c-can’t think why I’m so miserable.’
‘I can,’ said Cory, his hand over hers. ‘You’re absolutely played out. What I want you to do now, is not to argue, but to go and have a bath and wash your hair, have a little gentle supper, and then go to bed and have a decent night’s sleep. Then you’ll be fresh to look after him in the morning.’
‘But he gets such frightful nightmares. You think he’s better, and suddenly he gets worse. Will someone sit with him tonight?’
‘I will,’ said Cory.
He went back into Jonah’s room.
‘Well,’ said Noel icily. ‘Have you finished consoling her?’
‘For the time being,’ answered Cory in a level voice. ‘She must have been through hell and back. I’m absolutely appalled by her appearance.’
‘She’s obviously one of these people who go to pieces in a crisis,’ said Noel.
Cory was about to reply when Noel added quickly, ‘Where can one eat round here?’
‘There’s a good restaurant in Skipton,’ said Cory.
&n
bsp; ‘As soon as Jonah’s asleep, I thought we might go there. In fact I’ve asked Dr Williams to join us. He’s charming, and I thought he could give you the low-down on Jonah.’
‘No thanks,’ said Cory. ‘I didn’t come four thousand miles to go out to dinner.’
Jonah in fact made very good progress and was out in five days. Harriet hardly recognized the nursery and the children’s rooms when she got home, they were so tidy. All the playing cards and jigsaw puzzles had been sorted out, the children’s clothes lay in serried ranks, beautifully ironed in the drawers. William’s nappies were all fluffy and as white as snow, even the old table in the nursery coated with generations of poster paints, gripfix, pentel, and coca-cola, had been scrubbed and was now gleaming like a furniture polish ad. Miss Hanbury, the temporary nanny, was a miracle, and Noel took every opportunity to point out the fact.
Noel stayed at the Wilderness and only left at the end of a week because she had to be in London to go on the Parkinson Show. It was one of the worst weeks of Harriet’s life. William was teething and, like Cherubim and Seraphim, continually did cry, which gave Noel plenty of excuse for more bitchiness. Jonah, having had undivided attention for so long, displayed all the despotism and capriciousness of the convalescent. Chattie, from lack of attention, was very jealous and playing up. She was only just stopped from giving two of Noel’s minks to a woman collecting jumble, and one afternoon Harriet came into the kitchen and found her and Sevenoaks both looking sick and extremely sheepish. They had consumed a whole tin of Good Boy Dog Choc Drops between them.
Chattie burst into tears when Harriet ticked her off. ‘I was only trying to turn Sevenoaks into a Good Boy,’ she wailed.
The worst part was having Noel about the place, looking gorgeous, getting in the way, and interfering with the running of the house.
‘I can’t call my kitchen my castle any more,’ grumbled Mrs Bottomley.
Nor did the telephone ever stop ringing. It was either Noel’s agent, or the people on the Parkinson Show, or the Yorkshire Post wanting to interview her, or Ronnie Acland, or Dr Williams. Then, if people weren’t ringing her, she was making long distance telephone calls herself, or getting Harriet to run errands for her, or wash her shirts, or sew on her buttons. Then there were the interminable discussions about her choosing the right thing to wear on Parkinson.
When one has passed through a time of great anxiety, relief and happiness do not immediately follow. Harriet found herself subject to fits of depression, inclined to be crotchety. She told herself she was very run down. She was fed up with seeing Noel’s peach-coloured silk underwear on the line, of smelling her wafts of scent everywhere.
Dr Williams called every day, which Harriet was sure was quite unorthodox. Looking out of the window, while making beds one day, Harriet saw Noel sitting girlishly on the old swing under the walnut tree, with Dr Williams pushing her, totally infatuated. The next moment she was called inside for a ten-minute drool with Ronnie Acland. Wedging her options open, thought Harriet.
One lunchtime, Dr Williams rang up, and after a brief conversation Noel disappeared in Cory’s car. She returned five hours later, flushed and radiant, and came into the kitchen to regale Mrs Bottomley and Harriet with a long spiel about the impossibility of finding the right pair of shoes in Leeds for her television appearance.
‘Did you try Schofields?’ said Mrs Bottomley.
‘I tried everywhere. I must have visited twenty shoe shops,’ sighed Noel.
At that moment, Sevenoaks wandered over to her big bag which lay open on a chair, and before she could stop him, plunged his face inside and drew out a pair of frilly peach-coloured pants.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t find anything at Dolcis,’ said Mrs Bottomley.
Harriet had to go out of the room to stop herself from laughing. She would have given anything to have told Cory.
She suspected, however, that Dr Williams and Ronnie were pure dalliance, and Noel’s big guns were aimed at getting Cory back. Cory avoided opportunities to be alone with her and slept in the spare room. He buried himself in a load of work he’d brought back from America, and in getting Python ready for the point-to-point on Saturday. Occasionally Harriet saw his eyes resting on Noel, but she could not read their meaning. How did that beauty affect him now? He was kind to Harriet, but detached, as though his mind was somewhere beyond her reach. One thing she was certain of. If Noel came back, she would be straight out of a job. It made her very uneasy.
On the last evening before Noel went South, she and Cory stayed up talking. Harriet, coming down to get some Ribena for William, heard raised voices. The door was ajar and she stopped to listen:
‘You’ve been content to leave the children entirely to me,’ Cory was saying. ‘Now you have the effrontery to say you want them back.’
‘Ronnie and I have a house in France now as well as one in London,’ said Noel. ‘They’d be proper bases for the children to live. Be honest, Cory, children need a mother. A man can’t really bring up children on his own.’
‘I haven’t managed too badly so far,’ snapped Cory. ‘You know perfectly well there is only one set of terms on which I’m prepared for you to have the children and as you’re quite incapable of complying with them, there’s no point in discussing it.’
He means her coming back to him and chucking all the others, thought Harriet miserably.
‘How do you know I’m incapable of complying with them?’ said Noel huskily.
The next moment the door shut.
Harriet fled upstairs. It’s going to happen, she thought in anguish. But five minutes later she heard Cory come upstairs and the spare-room door open and shut. It was as though a great spear had been drawn out of her side.
Chapter Twenty-three
Harriet never forgot the day of the point-to-point — the bookies shouting, the county in their well-cut tweeds, the children sucking toffee apples, the crowds pressing around the paddock and the finishing post, the circling horses with their glossy coats.
She stood in the paddock trying to hold on to an impossibly over-excited Chattie — poor Jonah hadn’t been allowed out — watching Python being saddled up. The black mare’s coat rippling blue in the sunshine.
Cory came over to them. He was wearing a pink and grey striped shirt, and carrying a pink and grey cap. They had hardly spoken since Noel left. He picked up her hand and gave her his watch.
‘Look after it for me,’ he said, curling her fingers over it.
‘Good luck,’ she whispered.
‘Good luck, Daddy,’ said Chattie.
They watched him feel Python’s girths, clap a hand on the ebony quarters, put a foot in the stirrup and he was up, riding slowly round the paddock.
Two men beside Harriet in the crowd were discussing them.
‘Grand looking beast. Bit young, bit light, though.’
‘Erskine can ride her.’
‘Oh it’s Erskine is it? That’s worth a fiver each way.’
Harriet’s heart swelled with pride. Oh, please let him win. He needs this small, unimportant victory so much to cheer him up.
There were nine horses in the race. Acceptance, the favourite, a tall rangy bay, had been heavily backed to win. Harriet and Chattie climbed to the top of the hill, so they could see nearly all the way round the course and also hear the commentator. Harriet was so nervous she could hardly bear to watch.
At last they were off. For the first time round, Python was lying sixth for most of the way, but as the field started to jump the fences for the second time, she slowly began moving up.
‘And now they’ve only got eight fences to jump,’ said the commentator. ‘And it’s still Snow Moss from Acceptance, then Lazy Lucy and Tragedy Queen. Python is going very well and making ground all the time. Now they’re coming up to the seventh from home and it’s still Acceptance and Snow Moss. But Acceptance jumped that crooked and someone’s down. I can’t see exactly who it is. . yes, it’s Python! Python’s down, I’m afraid.’
The crowd gave a groan. Harriet felt an agonizing pain shoot through her. But she was only conscious of fear — that Cory might be hurt, badly hurt.
Chattie started to cry.
‘He’ll be all right,’ said Harriet in a shaking voice.
The microphone crackled. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the commentator. ‘I made a mistake. It wasn’t Python, it was Lazy Lucy who fell at the last fence — they’ve got similar colours. Python’s there and still making ground.’
Tears pricked Harriet’s eyes. Relief streamed over her.
As if in a dream, she watched Cory’s figure crouched over the little black mare, coaxing her, urging her on. Slowly the distance between him and the leaders shortened. Only one more fence to go, and then Snow Moss had fallen, and it was only a tiring Acceptance between Cory and victory.
‘Come on,’ shrieked Harriet. And now Python was drawing level. For a split second, it looked as though Acceptance was going to hold on, then Python drew ahead by a nose as they passed the post.
How Harriet and Chattie hugged each other!
‘I’ve won 50p,’ screamed Chattie.
Everyone cheered as Cory rode in. For once, a broad grin was spread across the impassive features, as he patted the sweating mare.
‘Oh, clever, clever Daddy!’ screeched Chattie.
Cory’s eyes met Harriet’s. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we did it.’
He dismounted and then, Harriet never remembered afterwards how it happened, a golden figure smothered in furs suddenly pushed her way through the crowd, and flung her arms round Cory’s neck. It was Noel.
‘Oh, darling, darling,’ she cried. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Mummy! Whatever are you doing here?’ said Chattie.
‘I’m not going to marry Ronnie,’ cried Noel. ‘I’ve come back, back to Daddy. We’re all going to be one happy family again.’
Suddenly the paddock seemed to be full of photographers.
‘This is the most wonderful day of my life,’ said Noel, smiling at them radiantly.
