Long Acre

by Claire Rayner

  ‘Thank you, Martha,’ he said quietly. ‘I knew I could trust you to be happy for me.’ And this time the use of her name seemed friendly and not threatening and she drew a tremulous breath and looked over his shoulder at Amy, and held out a hand to her.

  ‘It is strange, my dear, that you seem to be repeating history yet again, is it not? Once more our two families are — what was the word you used? — entwined. That is it — entwined. Lilith’s granddaughter, and Abel’s grandson — albeit an adopted grandson — to be wed. The family will be much amazed.’

  ‘But will they be pleased?’ Amy said and looked at her very directly. ‘From all you have said so far, I am not sure that they will be so.’

  ‘I hope they will,’ Martha said cautiously. ‘It will be more likely to be a happy acceptance if you will accept some advice from me.’

  Amy looked up at Felix and he came back to stand beside her. ‘Listen to Martha, Amy. She is a woman of more wisdom than I have in my little finger. And she has much love in her. Have you not, Martha?’

  ‘I try,’ Martha said. ‘I can do no more,’ but she was feeling better. That hateful river of jealousy that had threatened to engulf her earlier was dwindling, was little more than a cold trickle deep inside her. A trickle she could encompass, could live with, above all, could hide from Felix.

  She leaned forwards now and spoke with great earnestness. ‘Amy, my dear, if you would be a happy member of this family, you will forget all this matter of your forebears. You have identified your grandmother. You know now of two of your cousins — Oliver and Phoebe. There are others, of course. In America now, however, and unless you return there, which I imagine you will not now do, they need not concern you. You have found them, you know about them — and now forget them. Forget they are your cousins and forget your grandmother. Be one of this family, as Felix’s wife, and they will learn to love you, I am sure, since Felix does. And let the sleeping dogs sleep on. Will you do this? Say nothing to anyone about it? Then I am sure we can all be happy and peaceful together —’

  Amy smiled widely, and held out both hands to Martha. ‘Of course I will. Now I know. It is all a great confusion, and I daresay I will go on feeling some curiosity for some time. But I will not speak of it to Mrs Henriques or to Mr Lackland and his sister. Truly I won’t. Only Fenton, of course. I will have to tell Fenton, will I not?’

  She had tried, Heaven knew, to get him alone for long enough to speak to him of all she had discovered, as well as her own private news, but she had quite failed. He had come home to Long Acre so late on Monday night that she had long since fallen asleep, in spite of her determination to remain awake to speak to him; and at breakfast next morning there had been Mrs and Miss Miller fussing about them as usual, never leaving them alone for more than a moment or two as they hurried in and out with fresh coffee and hot muffins; and Amy knew that to speak of any private matter before them would be wildly indiscreet. Mrs Miller was no more capable of keeping silent on any piece of news than she was of flying from her bedroom window to the street below; and Amy’s news was much too portentous to be risked to those eager listening ears.

  So, she had had to content herself all through breakfast with talk of the new play. She was delighted indeed to hear that Fenton had been given a part in ‘Black Ey’d Susan’ and he professed himself to be just as happy. But he was abstracted and ate his breakfast — and little enough of it — in silence except when prompted by his sister to respond; and even then did so only in monosyllables.

  She had been able to contain herself, however, knowing that they had the journey to the Royalty for their first rehearsal, and that would give them time to talk. But as they reached the busy street Fenton said abruptly, ‘Take a cab, will you, Amy? I will meet you there.’

  ‘Fenton!’ She almost wailed it. ‘You must come with me — now! There is so much I have to tell you. It is very important. And it will be difficult there with all the people about! Please, do come with me —’

  ‘I cannot — I — ’He seemed uncharacteristically flustered and he took her shoulders between his gloved hands and looked down into her face and said urgently, ‘Amy, my dear, there is much I have to tell you. So much — but not now. I — I am going to the Supper Rooms. To tell Lackland that we are leaving his show. We cannot just abandon it without a word, can we?’

  Amy bit her lip. ‘Oh dear, I had quite forgotten him, to tell the truth! So much has happened, you see, so very much I must tell you of and —’

  ‘I know! I too, have news for you — but later.’ He had let her go and thrust his hands deep into his coat pockets. ‘Later, I will meet you at the Royalty. Don’t argue, you silly creature — just go —’ and he had gone hurrying away down Long Acre, weaving his way through the crowds at a remarkable speed, and she had perforce had to make her own way in the other direction, to seek a cab.

  And so it had gone on all morning. Fenton had arrived breathless and late, and there had been no time at all to talk, for Mr Rourke was already setting the stage for the first walkthrough rehearsal. And then they had started work, and as she read her way through her lines and was given her moves the magic the theatre always wrought in her began to take over. No longer was she on a dusty ill-lit cold stage on the first day of rehearsal. Instead she felt the audience that would be there for her moving into the shrouded seats in the auditorium like so many eager ghosts, felt the building excitement of a performance, felt the character she was playing grow inside her, pushing away the real Amy to make way for the greater reality of make-believe. And her own affairs dwindled away and lost their urgency.

  But then they stopped for the luncheon interval, and after some raillery between Wyndham and Rourke, who were obviously all ready to become the closest of cronies, the company went off to the tavern across the road to take refreshment, leaving Amy and Fenton behind, for Amy said she was not hungry, having breakfasted very well, and Fenton said he wished to con his lines. And at last they were alone, and could talk.

  Amy sat perched on the table that was in the centre of the stage, marking the Cottage Parlour which was the setting of the first scene of the play, hugging her knees and looking more like an urchin than a young lady who was newly betrothed or a great actress about to make her London debut; but for once she did not care about the appearance she presented to the world. Her own affairs were now once more in the forefront of her mind, and she was bursting to tell Fenton all about it.

  But he did not give her a chance to do so. He started to prowl up and down the stage, from one side to the other, with a heavy measured step and Amy looked at him apprehensively; when Fenton marched so it boded ill. His uncertain temper was something she had lived with long enough to treat with respect, and she knew that he paced in this manner only when he was deeply disturbed. This was not the time to blurt out the news that she was to be wed; for all his offhand use of her, for all his occasional scornfulness and unkindness, Amy knew that she was important to Fenton, and that he would take her love for another man very ill.

  But perhaps, she thought, I can tell him of the matter of Lilith Lucas; he will be as interested in that, surely, as I am, and it may soothe his temper to talk of such things. And then he will be able to tell me of what it is that is now making him march up and down so miserably.

  ‘Fenton,’ she said tentatively, and he seemed not to hear her, and she said again, ‘Fenton!’ And this time he stopped and looked at her, and his eyes seemed to her to be filled with misery, and alarmed, she scrambled down from the table and ran to him.

  ‘Fenton, whatever is the matter? You look so unhappy — what is it, my dear? Tell your Sugar-Amy all about it, Fenton, my love — what is it?’

  She was almost crooning to him, just as her mother had been used to do when he was a little boy who had to be coaxed out of his sulks, and she set her hands one on each side of his face and looked up at him and smiled and said again, ‘Tell your Amy all about it, my love. What is it that ails you? Is your leg upsetting you again?’
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  He shook his head impatiently, pulling away from her.

  ‘Damn it, Amy, don’t treat me like a child! I am a man grown, with a man’s problems, and I can see no way out of the tangle into which I have caught myself. What on earth I am to do, I cannot imagine! I am so set about I can hardly think, and all you do is behave like some old nurse — you’ll be offering me pap next —’

  ‘Well, if that is the shape of it, perhaps you will tell me what it is that is making you look as though the world is sitting on your shoulders!’ Amy said tartly, and stood in the middle of the stage, her fists balled on her hips, and her chin up. ‘I have my own problems too, and my own news, but clearly you are too much of a man grown even to notice that! I told you this morning I had news for you, and all you can do is march about looking as though no one in the world has any concerns but you and —’

  ‘Oh, Amy, do be quiet,’ Fenton said wearily, and put his hands to his head. ‘I am nigh exhausted, for I cannot sleep these nights. And if you start at me, I cannot be responsible for what will happen. I am worried, I tell you — worried —’

  She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded and went and sat down at the table, her hands folded in her lap. ‘Well, perhaps you had better tell me of it all,’ she said quietly. ‘I may be able to help.’

  He looked at her miserably for a moment and then, moving heavily for one usually so lithe, came and sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.

  ‘It is Isabel,’ he said after a moment. ‘Isabel Henriques.’

  ‘What of her?’

  ‘It is so stupid.’ The words almost burst out of him and once again he got to his feet and resumed his pacing, throwing his words at her over his shoulder as he went. ‘I will not deny that the prime attraction in her was her money. I saw her that night at the Caspars’ and I thought — this is the one for me. If I can ingratiate myself with this one, there is a future aglow with money. Her father is as rich as Croesus, and so is her stepbrother — and I could see she liked me. So I made a beeline for her. It was not difficult.’

  ‘So? Is that so terrible a thing? You aren’t the first man who has found an heiress agreeable.’

  ‘Oh, be your age, Amy,’ Fenton said savagely. ‘I am well aware of that! The problem is — damn it all to hell and back — my feelings are engaged now. I did not intend it to happen — indeed, I did not think it could! But here I am, as sick with love as any damned girl and not knowing which way to turn!’

  She could have laughed aloud. He stood there staring at her, his face as woebegone as a child’s who had seen his barleysugar stick fall into the river, and did not seem to realize how absurd it all was. But she knew better than to give vent to her amusement, and said gravely, ‘Are your affections returned?’

  ‘That’s the devil of it!’ Fenton said, and resumed his pacing. ‘I thought at first that they were. Indeed, I know they were. In the early days, when it was her money that most filled my thoughts, and I was exercised in my mind about how to ensnare her, there is no doubt she regarded me with great interest. Indeed, then, I know, she was quite thrown over in her mind by me. I could have — dammit, I could have seduced her then, I swear it! But now —’

  ‘Now?’

  He shrugged. ‘It is so silly,’ he said miserably. ‘It came upon me by degrees that I did not care whether she had a cent to her name, that it was she who mattered. I could think of nothing but her face and her smile and the sound of her voice and the way she smelled of flowers, and I — oh, I did not at first know what had happened to me. I have never felt so about any woman ever. To be so confused by such feelings — well, I did not know what to do. And then I knew that I had to have her, that somehow we had to be wed, and I told her so, and — ’ again he shrugged and fell silent.

  ‘And you were wrong? She did not return your feelings?’

  ‘It was not precisely that — it was as though she — it seemed to me that she lost the feeling that she had. That it had been there, and she had loved me truly. Just like all the others. I have had experience enough, God knows, of lovesick girls. And I swear she was just like them — until I became lovesick myself —’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Amy said slowly, ‘you stopped trying to please her? Perhaps you became so locked up in your own feelings that she did not find you the same person? It is a strange thing about us, Fenton, about both of us. We can be so different to different people. I can act the part that my companion wishes me to without having to think of it. But when I am not acting — then I suppose I am different. I am perhaps fortunate that Felix likes me better when I am not acting than when I am — but perhaps your Isabel prefers the acting you to the real you —’

  ‘Felix? You mean Felix Laurence? What has he to do with it?’ Fenton stared at her, frowning.

  ‘I am to marry him, Fenton,’ she said quietly, looking at him very directly. ‘I too have found my feelings engaged, in a most surprising way. I — we agreed yesterday. We are to be wed —’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Fenton said, and flung himself into a chair, scowling. ‘That is all I needed! The one woman I have ever wanted rejects me, and now my own sister will abandon me! How can such things happen to me when I have done no harm to anyone?’

  ‘I had thought you would wish me happy, Fenton.’ She tried not to let him see how hurt she was, and looked at him with her chin up.

  ‘Oh, why the hell should I? Have I not miseries of my own enough? Why should I wish you happy when I am so miserable?’

  ‘Perhaps if you could be more as you used to be she would love you as you wish her to,’ Amy said after a moment. ‘You made great efforts on her behalf as far as I could see. Perhaps the trouble now is that she can see that you care a great deal more for yourself — ’

  ‘And why shouldn’t I?’ Fenton shouted, glaring at her. ‘No one else cares! You don’t! If you did you would not leaving me for that dull stick Laurence!’

  ‘He is not dull, and if you dare to say one unkind word about him, Fenton, I swear to you I will abandon you! I love you dearly and always have, and always will, but Felix is — Felix is — he is mine, and you shall not sneer at him, you hear me? If you do, I promise you you will regret it! I shall —’

  ‘Oh, do hush! So, he is yours and I must not slang him. Very well, I shall say nothing at all about him. Anyway, he is your affair, dammit — Amy, what am I to do? I want her so —’ and he kicked the leg of the table viciously, for all the world like a child balked of a toy.

  She stared at him for a long moment and then sighed softly. ‘There is nothing you can do, my love, but swallow your feelings and forget her. For not only does she seem to have cooled towards you — even if she adored you, I doubt you would have much joy. Her Papa and Mamma, I am persuaded, are very careful of her. And as you say, they are very rich — you cannot imagine they would ever allow a penniless actor to wed her, can you? You had best forget her, truly you had —’

  Fenton was staring at her, his eyes wide and very bright. ‘What did you say? Her Papa and Mamma — oh, glory, glory, I did not think! What a fool I am, I did not think!’ He almost crowed it and she stared at him in amazement.

  ‘Don’t you see, Amy? It is not me she has cooled towards. It is my poverty! Why, if I had the money to suit her parents, I have no doubt all would be well! It is because she knows I am poor that she tries to put me away. She knows I will suffer otherwise — oh, she is a dear girl, a dear dear girl, and I love her so much!’

  ‘I think you are making too much of what I said, Fenton.’ Amy said cautiously. His moods were so mercurial this morning she felt she did not know how to go on with him. ‘I did not suggest she had cooled because you were poor — I only said her parents would reject you even if she had not —’

  But he was now in tearing high spirits. He had seized on her words and clearly nothing she said would convince him otherwise and he began to dance about the stage, using the steps they had been shown that morning by Rourke. ‘She loves me, she loves me, she does, she does, s
he does,’ he carolled and she watched him, her lips quirking.

  And then, as suddenly as he had soared to the heights he came plunging down again.

  ‘But what am I to do, Amy?’ He looked at her with his eyes huge with tragedy. ‘What am I to do for money? How can I gain enough quickly enough, to show her she need not fear her parents’ rejection of me? I must get rich, oh God, I must get rich quickly. Could this play launch me well enough, do you think? My part is small, but I can make something of it, I’m sure, and then, if another management sees it, and offers me a bigger chance, I would perhaps reach the heights fast enough to command good money — oh, how can I do it —’

  Quite at what moment the idea came to her, she did not know. She sat there and looked at him, her adored brother who had always needed and obtained the help of the people who loved him and now had only her to rely upon. Her brother who needed money and needed a lot of it.

  And suddenly she thought of the house in Grosvenor Square and the empty sumptuous wasted luxury, and heard Martha’s voice explaining why her father had refused his legacy. And the thought swirled and gained shape and substance in her mind and she leaned forwards and said earnestly, ‘Fenton! There is perhaps a way. If you are convinced that it is money and only money that stands between you — there is a way that it might be obtained — listen. And listen carefully to all I have to tell you.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ‘So you see, Fenton?’ she finished. ‘If he does not want the legacy, and refuses to have any part of it, I should think he would be glad to be rid of it. And since we are Lilith’s grandchildren, who better to give it to? I am sure if I explain it all to him in this way, he will agree. It is the only sensible thing to do! And then you will have the money you want, and perhaps Isabel will accept you. Though I think you must remember that there may be other reasons for her being as she is. Money alone may not be the answer —’

  But he brushed that aside as quite irrelevant. He had listened to her in absorbed silence, once he had realized the import of what she was saying, his eyes opaque with thought, and now his jawline was set and his colour was high.