Mad Dogs and Englishmen (The Brigandshaw Chronicles Book 3)

by Peter Rimmer

  “If you insist…”

  “He’s a good driver, I can tell you that,” said Tina. “Just a tad too fast for my taste.”

  “It’s a beauty of a car… What is it?”

  “The latest three-litre from Bentley. I’ve had her on the track at Brooklands. Wonderful… What’s the latest you serve lunch?”

  “Whenever you wish. Many of my old customers died in the war. You and your lady are most welcome. Maybe you would like to come to my office for a pre-lunch drink?”

  “The bar will do just fine.”

  The little girl did not appear again. There were three other cars on the driveway. Merlin could smell honeysuckle. The trees behind the building were tall, thick with large green leaves and white flowers. The flustered owner caught the direction of Merlin’s look.

  “The horse chestnuts are beautiful at this time of year… You know the way to the bar, Mr St Clair.”

  The man turned away from them and walked to the closed door through which the little girl had run. The man went inside, bending his head and closed the door.

  “Strange. What’s got into Stanton? I’d expected him to join us at the bar for a drink. Always did with Philip Spence in the past. Philip was my boss in those days.”

  When they reached the bar, it was empty except for a good-looking girl behind the bar. Tina thought her breasts were too large but knew men would like what they saw. The girl was probably twenty-five and dressed like a barmaid. White frilly blouse cut low and a skirt that flowed from a tight waist over large hips. The girl had a big, luscious mouth, painted red. She wore large earrings but no rings other than a thin wedding band of gold. She looked weary to Tina as if life had already given her too much of a hard time.

  Tina smiled at the girl and received a glare in return. No one had ever glared at her before without a reason. Merlin had stopped before reaching the bar. The girl was looking straight at Merlin. Merlin, when Tina turned to look at him, was as white as a sheet. When he saw her looking, he regained his smile, and the colour drained back into his face.

  “What you goin’ to ’ave, lovey?” asked the barmaid.

  “Large gin. My escort drives a car like a lunatic.”

  “And you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the same, thank you.”

  They had each other fixed in a glare. Tina was sure of it. She looked from one to the other.

  “You two know each other, don’t you?”

  There was silence. The small girl she had seen from the driveway rushed across the driveway and through the door into the bar. Tina began to laugh. The barmaid glared at her. The little girl looked so like Lucinda St Clair. Tina remembered Lucinda and briefly thought of Harry Brigandshaw. The story of Lucinda’s murder had been all over the papers. Even if Tina’s mother had not told her the story, she would have known of the tragedy. She remembered feeling annoyed for some reason. That Harry had married Lucinda. Married anyone.

  “I’ll leave you two alone. Get someone to bring me the gin to the dining room. I’ll ask them to wait for lunch till you join me, Merlin… You had no idea did you?”

  “No. No, I didn’t.”

  Tina left them alone in the bar. The owner was hovering just inside the door that led to the dining room.

  “How have you been, Esther?” she heard Merlin say before the owner ushered her through the door away from the embarrassment.

  “You know Merlin well, don’t you?” he said when the door to the bar was closed behind.

  “We all grew up together. That’s his daughter isn’t it? Too like Lucinda and Lady St Clair not to be.”

  “Come and have a drink in my office. Had he ever mentioned Esther?”

  “Oh, yes. She ran off and married a corporal during the early part of the war. The corporal was killed.”

  “He still gives Esther an allowance.”

  “Nice of him. Does he know about the little girl?”

  “No. So far as the army is concerned the girl’s father is the corporal. The only way Esther could be sure of anything was to marry Ray Owen. Merlin would never have married her. Even with the child. Esther was sure Merlin was going to be killed. Few of the junior officers came through more than a month. It was my advice to marry Owen. That way the British government would look after the child. Even if both of them were killed. Merlin St Clair and Ray Owen. She knew she was pregnant when she met Ray Owen.”

  “Why didn’t she tell Merlin she was pregnant before she married the corporal?”

  “Merlin was by then back in France. In the trenches.”

  “Did she love the corporal?”

  “I don’t know. They hadn’t known each other long when they married. The boy was frightened. It was Esther’s way of giving him something before he went to war. Ray Owen was only a kid. I don’t think he had turned twenty. It was partly my fault. I told Esther to marry Ray Owen after he blurted out a proposal of marriage. He had worked here once. As a waiter. He was back on leave, his nerves shot to hell. I saw the marriage as Esther’s last chance to secure a legal place for the child she was carrying. Ray Owen was besotted by Esther. She was even prettier at eighteen. I gave Ray a room for the last week of his leave. He didn’t want to stay with his mother any longer in Wales. His mother was crying all the time. Ray Owen was the only male in her family still alive. Her husband and two other sons had been killed in a methane explosion down a coal mine in 1912. Owen knew he was going to die. They all did. It was just a case of Esther legalising the child. While she could… There were no widow pensions for unmarried mothers. How could the government help? How could anyone prove who the father was if the mother wasn’t married? They were all doing it then. It was the war. Good girls giving the lads something the lads had never had. And most likely never got. It was the war… How was I to know Merlin St Clair would go through four years of trench warfare without a scratch?… I thought I was doing the best thing for Esther. For the child. We all do what we think is best at the time Miss?…” He had forgotten her name in his fluster.

  “Pringle. My name is Tina Pringle.”

  “Trouble is, what’s best at the time can be wrong later on. I knew Ray Owen was a good boy from the time he was working for me. I knew Esther was a good girl even if she did go off and live with Mr St Clair without being married… Maybe that’s it, Miss Pringle. We pay for our sins. Poor Esther’s paid for hers. That child will go on paying I suppose.”

  “Why didn’t she tell Merlin about the child when it was born? Corporal Owen was dead by then, wasn’t he?”

  “Owen was dead three weeks after marrying Esther. I tried getting hold of Mr St Clair. Left messages. The only response was Esther’s yearly allowance. His pride was hurt. He’s a very proud man. Didn’t take to his mistress running off and getting married.”

  “How did he know she had married the corporal?”

  “Esther wrote and told him.”

  “Why?”

  “She had her pride. She wanted to terminate the affair. She had sent the letter before Owen was killed. I think she liked the idea of thumbing her nose at the high and mighty, the Honourable Merlin St Clair.”

  “So she never loved Merlin?”

  “Who knows whoever loves anyone? Mostly we do things for selfish reasons. Even getting married. No, always when we decide to get married. Getting married is the most selfish thing we do in our lives. We always think of ourselves. Especially when it’s the rest of our lives we are thinking about. It’s all about what the other person can do for us in life that counts. We are all selfish, mark my words.”

  “Are you married, Mr Stanton?”

  “We won’t go into my life… Yes, I’m married and it’s hell on earth, if you really want to know.”

  “Where is she today?”

  “With her mother. She spends a lot of time with her mother. She only married me because I own the place. Found that out after. From one of her so-called friends.”

  “Any children?”

  “No, thank the Lord.”

&
nbsp; “What did Esther call the little girl?”

  “Genevieve. She was going to call a boy Arthur. Romantic don’t you think. Esther’s way of saying who the father was… Merlin. Arthur. Genevieve. Camelot. From losing a father before she was born to being part of the mighty St Clairs. Going back all those years in history. I think Esther hoped the girl would want to go and find her real father. Her grandfather who was a lord. We all want to be more than we are. Why the exploits of our ancestors should make any difference to our own lives, I never worked out. The romantic in us, maybe… Well, now it has all come down to this. A confrontation in my bar. I never thought Mr St Clair would ever come here again in his life. I thought his pride would stop him. The memory of being jilted.”

  “I don’t think he expected you to still own the place.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Strange he wanted to come back here. With all those bad memories. I wonder why?”

  For a long time they could find nothing to say to each other. Esther had thought she was seeing a ghost when Merlin walked into her bar. There had been so many of them since the beginning of the war. And after. Living and dead. Young men grown old frightened by a car backfiring out of the driveway. Old ghosts. New ghosts. Faces imprinted on her mind that had come and gone for whatever reason man had found to kill each other. Esther didn’t know. She couldn’t read properly. Not a book, anyway. But she could think. And remember. So many young men through the war looking for the familiar for the last time before hell.

  “She’s a nice girl. Common as dirt, of course,” Esther said when they were alone. She had disliked Tina on sight.

  “How do you know?” asked Merlin.

  “It takes one to see one. I know you, Merlin. You like ’em so common… Genevieve please go to our room. Close the door, luv.”

  “Let her stay… Am I her father?”

  “Genevieve! Out of the room. Now. This moment.”

  The door slammed shut. Merlin could see the girl walking across the gravel towards the same outbuilding.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked into the silence.

  “I thought you were dead. Back in ’14… You got my letter about Ray?”

  “Thank you very much,” said Merlin sarcastically.

  “I’m goin’ to have a bloody drink. ’Ow’ve you been? Long time no see.” Esther tried to put on a good face. She had no wish to lose her job. The room outside was her home.

  “Didn’t you get the money?”

  “Oh, that. Yes I did.”

  “Then how could I have been dead?”

  “By then Ray was dead and Genevieve born. Didn’t matter. Thought you left me a bit in your will. Bloody should ’ave done what I done for you. Best bleedin’ years of my life.”

  “Who was Ray?”

  “Corporal Owen. He never knew. ’Bout the kid. Poor sod was dead three weeks after getting back to France… Who’s the fancy lady? The one trying to be all la-di-da?”

  “Remember me talking about Barnaby’s girlfriend, Tina?”

  “What’s she doin’ with YOU then, Merlin?”

  “Barnaby won’t marry her.”

  “Neither will you. Don’t make me laugh… How the bloody ’ell did you get right through the war?”

  “The Germans couldn’t shoot me. You want some money for the child?”

  “Course I do… Are you happy, Merlin?”

  “No. No I’m not. Not that it’s any matter to you… I would have liked to have got to know her. Can’t have everything. No, that wouldn’t work. Money will help. Money always helps… At least I will know some part of me will go on living when I’m dead. Better to let her go on thinking Corporal Owen was her father. Make it easier to fit in. I won’t come down here again unless you ask for me. Sometimes people need help… I feel as if someone has kicked me hard in the stomach. Goodbye, Esther.”

  Tina was not in the dining room. He found her in the manager’s office.

  “Ah, there you are. There’s a place I know down the road at Headley. You understand, Stanton. If you want, I’ll pay for the lunch.”

  “Don’t be silly… I’ve been telling Miss Pringle what happened.”

  “It’s none of your damn business.”

  “Unfortunately I thought it was at the time.”

  “What has Miss Pringle to do with anything you know about me? It’s none of her business either.”

  “I think she will explain the truth better than me. I assure you, Mr St Clair, I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Tina told him what Stanton had said once back in the car.

  There had been no sign of the child or Esther when they drove away. When she finished, Merlin stopped the car and turned it round by backing into a farmer’s cart road. Then he drove back to London without saying a word.

  Merlin drove well but not as fast. The top was still down. Tina even wondered if he had heard everything she said. She should have minded her own business. No one ever wanted to hear the truth in life.

  Merlin dropped off Tina at her flat in St John’s Wood. He had helped her out of the car. Walked her up to the front door of her small flat. She was starving hungry. She was about to thank him for the lunch they had never had.

  “Nice car,” she said.

  The dark eye burnt into her brain. Merlin bowed formally and left. She heard the car start up again as she slowly closed her door. Then she went to the small kitchen and opened herself a small can of baked beans. Her maid had come and gone. It was five o’clock in the afternoon.

  Half an hour later the telephone rang. It was Merlin.

  “I must apologise for my bad manners. Just to let you know Barnaby has moved out of my flat. He was gone when I returned. Smithers helped him pack.”

  “What would you two boys do without Smithers?”

  “I’m sorry, Tina. I really am. Maybe that was meant to happen. You are Barnaby’s girlfriend, not mine.”

  “For a moment back there I thought I knew you, Merlin. Really knew you. Keep in touch. Not everything works out the way we think.”

  “I hope you’re not too hungry?”

  “I just ate a tin of Heinz baked beans.”

  “Oh dear, I’m sorry.”

  The telephone line went dead as Merlin at the other end put his telephone back on the hook.

  Ten minutes later the telephone rang again.

  “It’s me. Merlin gave me a ring at my club. Can we have supper?”

  “Why not, Barnaby?”

  “I don’t want to hear anything about Merlin.”

  “You really are arrogant.”

  “Seven o’clock… You haven’t ridden in my new car.”

  “Oh, not again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just come and pick me up at seven.”

  “Why don’t you sound excited?”

  “Because I’m not.”

  What Tina wanted most was a meal. She also did not want to be alone. The day’s events had upset her. From the terrifying car ride to the realisation that most people’s lives were a mess. Stanton with a wife he disliked. Esther without husband. A father for Genevieve. The fate of life.

  When Barnaby phoned, he caught her on the wrong foot. She accepted the invitation without thinking clearly. If nothing else she told herself as she had a bath and dressed for dinner she knew Barnaby St Clair inside out. He was a rotter. Quite selfish. Would probably come to a bad end. At least she knew what she was getting. They would laugh. Look into each other’s eyes. Talk about the so many things they had in common. The so many things they had done together… Only this time he was not going to end up in her bed. She swore that one to herself. Twice.

  They went to Simpsons on the Strand where they had been before. He obviously wanted to show her off. To tell the crowd, she was his girlfriend. The rich heiress. The noble son. He had even tipped off the Tatler.

  They joined a party of his friends with hugs and
smiles. Some of the people she knew herself. The dress she wore had never before been seen in public. It was a sensation. Red had always suited her. She had worn a feather band around her head. The same diamond and pearl earrings given to her by Albert for her twenty-first birthday.

  Everyone talked at the same time. No one listened to a word. The band played, and she danced with Barnaby. She ate the first course of asparagus swimming in melted butter. The baked beans had done more for hunger. She was careful to only sip the wine. Tina knew all about drink on an empty stomach.

  Barnaby danced with the girl on his right. The man on Tina’s left asked her to dance. She danced. When she sat down the waiter put a small fowl in front of her. She told herself it was no wonder they were all so thin. The poor bird would have been better left wherever it was. Tina managed to get two small mouthfuls from the bird’s breasts. The small, knuckle-ended legs looking up at her from the plate were quite pathetic. A small new potato rested in a pool of red wine gravy that had doused the bird. Tina ate the potato. The waiter whisked away her plate.

  This time she danced with Barnaby who was full of robust noise and joie de vivre. They danced the Charleston and caused a sensation on the small dance floor. They had learnt the dance together in Johannesburg when the dance first arrived in South Africa from America. They were perfect together. Everyone clapped.

  Afterwards, Barry Jones from the Tatler asked for a photograph of them both together. Everyone clapped again after the flash from the camera.

  A piece of fish on a large white plate was put in front of her. There had been confusion among the guests getting up to dance then sitting down. The fish should have come before the bird. Tina ate the fish in two mouthfuls. Everything seemed to be in mouthfuls. The girl on Barnaby’s right leaned towards her. Barnaby was now dancing with somebody else. Tina had seen the girl a few times but did not know her name. The girl was trying hard to impress Barnaby. Barnaby winked at Tina over the girl’s shoulder.

  “I couldn’t help hearing Barry say you were from South Africa. My father was killed in South Africa.” It was the girl sitting next to Barnaby talking. Tina tried to listen. “Right at the end of the Boer War. I never knew him. My name is Justine Voss. I’ve never met anyone before who lived in South Africa. Is it very nice? I’m going there one day to find my father’s grave. I have to do that for him don’t you think? I live in Chelsea. You can tell me where to look for my father’s grave. I tried the War Graves Commission I think they call themselves. Absolutely no help at all. They don’t even have a record of Father dying. Colonel Voss. He fought with General Gordon. Chinese Gordon. Gordon of Khartoum. You must have heard of him?”