‘Darling! How lovely. Nancy, make us some tea will you? China, Eliza? And I think I’ll go and change, I get cold in this ridiculous outfit after a bit.’
‘Of course.’ Eliza’s smile was a trifle too bright. Letitia thought she had probably been crying.
‘What is it, darling,’ she said, returning in a navy cashmere two piece and beige calf-length boots, looking just about fifty-five years old. ‘You’re upset.’
‘No,’ said Eliza brightly. ‘No, not at all. I’m getting married.’
‘My darling! How marvellous. But how on earth have you managed that? I thought Arabian marriages were sacred. Should we be drinking champagne rather than tea?’
‘No. Not yet. Well, it might help. Yes please. Yes, they are sacred. I’m not marrying Jamil.’
‘Oh, my goodness. What an entertaining child you are. Nancy, will you please bring us a bottle of Bollinger from the fridge and two glasses. Have some yourself if you want it. Now then.’ She raised her glass to Eliza. ‘Who is it and why? And why have you been crying?’
‘It’s Peveril Garrylaig.’
‘Good heavens. A proper title in the family at last. And a good one too. A countess. Oh, my grandmother would have been relieved.’
‘Do you know him?’
‘Well of course I do. I think he’s charming,’ said Letitia firmly, wondering what (apart from a title) the bluff, born-middle-aged, widowed Earl of Garrylaig could possibly offer Eliza that Jamil Al-Shehra could not.
‘Well, then, you know what a charmer he is. I adore him. And he adores me. Of course it’ll be a big change, living in Scotland, but I always did have a sneaking liking for the country, and the castle is just beautiful, Letitia, quite the most ravishing place, you will come and stay, won’t you?’
‘Darling, of course. I will. All the time. Now then.’ She looked sharply at Eliza. ‘What does Mr Al-Shehra have to say about all this?’
‘Oh, he’s quite happy about it,’ said Eliza briskly. ‘Clearly we couldn’t go on for ever how we were, and well – oh, Letitia, I can’t bear it, I simply can’t bear it, please please tell me I’m doing the right thing.’
Tears were streaming down her face; her green eyes searched Letitia’s blue ones wildly, frantically, looking for relief from her pain and her grief.
‘Tell me more, darling. When you’re ready. I can’t tell you anything until I know what it’s all about.’
Eliza told her. She told her that there was no real future for her with Al-Shehra; that the most passionate love affair could not last for ever; that she was forty-three years old, and most assuredly not getting any younger; that she was afraid of being alone and lonely; that she wanted to be safe, with a status of her own again; that she was truly truly fond of Peveril or she wouldn’t be doing it; and that she was so unhappy that she thought her heart was not just broken, but exploded into a million tiny fragments.
She did not tell her that Al-Shehra had wept in her arms the night before, that he had made love to her that morning so sadly, so tenderly, so exquisitely that she still felt faint remembering the sensations, and that it had taken every fragment of her courage not to change her mind.
‘But you do see, Letitia, don’t you, it was all right at first, the mistress of a wildly rich Arab potentate, or tycoon or whatever he is, all right when you’re quite young, but think of being fifty, sixty, and still in that position, always terrified of new young women coming along, no status, no standing. I couldn’t face it, Letitia, I just couldn’t. I need to be married. I have to do this.’
‘And when did the affair with Peveril begin?’
‘Oh,’ said Eliza with the shimmer of a smile. ‘It isn’t an affair, Letitia. Peveril is a gentleman. We shall go to bed on our wedding night and not before.’
‘How charming. How refreshing. Well, all right, when did you meet him?’
‘Last month. At Longchamps. Jamil wanted to take me to the Arc de Triomphe, and then he got gambling and I got cross and Peveril was there, with his sisters, one of them knew Julian, he’d been at her coming-out dance, and well – we started talking and he asked me if he could take me out to lunch one day in London, and it all went on from there.’
‘It’s not very long,’ said Letitia, frowning.
‘No, I know, and everyone’s going to say that, but I have to get it settled quickly, and Peveril wants to, he’s lonely and why should we wait?’
‘To make sure you’re doing the right thing?’
‘No, I don’t want to do that. Because I might not be. But if I’m not I’ll make it work just the same. Just you watch me. He’s a good man, and a kind one, and I won’t let him down.’
‘No, darling, don’t.’
It was the only rebuke or criticism Letitia uttered; Eliza took it with good grace.
‘I deserved that. I deserve more. So please, Letitia, come on, tell me it’s a good idea.’
Letitia took a deep breath.
‘It is a good idea. I truly think so. Of course it has its dangers and they seem quite formidable, but you’re clearly aware of them. I would be with you all the way. I have often wondered myself what might happen to you with Al-Shehra.’
Eliza kissed her. ‘Thank you. You don’t know what courage that gives me.’
Letitia looked at the lovely face in the darkening room, the heavy eyes, the drooping mouth. ‘You will get over Jamil, you know,’ she said. ‘It will pass. It will take a long time, but it will pass. For weeks, months, you will think you can’t take another day of the pain, and then one day, quite suddenly you will feel just a little better. Just a tiny bit lighthearted. It may not last, but it will come back, that feeling. More and more frequently. And in a year you will be sad, but not unhappy any longer. Don’t rush the wedding though, Eliza. Wait a few months. You’ll be asking too much of yourself. And it won’t be fair to Peveril. Wait till the spring. He’ll understand. There’s a lot to do.’
‘You’ve been through this, haven’t you?’ said Eliza. ‘You’ve never told me, nobody has, but I can tell. You couldn’t understand otherwise.’
‘Yes,’ said Letitia. ‘I have. And it was a very, very long time ago. And I can still remember the pain. But all these years later, I do know that I did the right thing.’
Julian arrived at First Street half an hour later, beaming radiantly.
‘Julian,’ said Letitia. ‘How nice. I’ve been thinking about you. Eliza’s only just left.’
‘How is Eliza?’
‘Very well. Very happy.’
‘Good. Well, I can’t stop, but I have a little present for you, Camilla brought it over from California, she’s been vacationing there. Look, it’s a solar-powered calculator.’
‘Oh, how wonderful,’ cried Letitia, delighted as a child. ‘I’ve read about these. Will it work here? We don’t have as much solar power as the Californians.’
‘Of course it will, you idiot. It’s light that does it. Look.’
‘Marvellous! Thank you, darling. How is Camilla?’
‘She’s fine. Just passing through.’
‘I see.’
‘Don’t look like that, Mother. Anyway, I have some nice news I wanted to share with you.’
‘I thought you were looking rather more cheerful than you have lately. What is it?’
‘I had lunch with Roz today.’
‘Did you? How is the dear, difficult child?’
‘Oh, looking wonderful. Very good. And greatly benefited from her year at Harvard.’ A shadow passed over his face. ‘Apart from getting in with a thoroughly undesirable fellow.’
‘How much in?’
‘All the way, I would say, from the look of her, and the necklace hanging round her neck.’
‘Well Julian, she is twenty-three. Eliza was married and divorced at that age.’
‘I know. But he’s a bit of a rough diamond. American. Brooklyn. Very rich. Divorced. Very unsuitable. Anyway, there’s nothing I can do about that and that’s not the nice news. She’s going to come an
d work for the company. She’s got over that independence nonsense at last.’
‘Now that is good news. I agree. Did she ask?’
‘Yes, and very nicely. Quite humbly in fact. I honestly think she’s grown up a bit.’
‘Good. Where are you going to put her?’
‘In Paris. Working on the cosmetics. With Annick Valery. I had a word with Iris Bentinck in New York this afternoon and she was perfectly agreeable.’
‘Well she would be,’ said Letitia briskly.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean she’s your employee and your mistress, so she’s unlikely to refuse to take on your daughter.’
‘Mother, that’s grossly unfair. I admit that in the past we had a liaison, but it was very short-lived. And it was ages ago.’
‘And it’s quite over?’
He met her eyes in amused surprise. ‘Of course.’
‘I see. Well anyway, what has Paris got to do with Iris? She’s in New York.’
‘Well, she’s in charge of Juliana worldwide. As a courtesy I had to consult her.’
‘I see. Well anyway, I’m delighted about Roz. Give her my love.’
‘She’s coming down to Marriotts for the weekend. Would you like to join us? Several people are coming, including Nancy Craig. She’s very knowledgeable about horses.’
‘No, I don’t think so, thank you,’ said Letitia. ‘I think I may have things to do in London. Will Camilla be there? I don’t suppose Roz will be very pleased if she is.’
‘No, she won’t,’ he said shortly.
‘Oh. I thought you said she was over here.’
‘She is. But she’s not spending the weekend with me.’
‘Ah. Julian, just exactly what is going on with Camilla?’
‘Nothing,’ he said lightly, ‘no more or less than there ever was. We have a perfect arrangement. It suits us very well. Well, as a matter of fact, we are changing things a little. Camilla is buying her own house. In Knightsbridge.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘Oh, it’s entirely her idea,’ he said easily. ‘Like most things she does. One of her feminist theories. She says she doesn’t enjoy the role of surrogate wife and she wishes to be geographically independent from me. She says she wants to be her own woman; one of her less attractive American expressions.’
‘I see.’
He looked at her. ‘Mother, don’t look at me like that. Camilla is not some downtrodden housewife, you know. The move was her idea. I just told you. Things suit us very well.’
‘They suit you very well,’ said Letitia. ‘Sometimes I wonder about Camilla.’
‘Well,’ he said, getting up, ‘I must go. I’m going out to dinner.’
‘Who with?’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘no one you’d know. Bye, Mother. Enjoy your calculator.’
‘Goodbye, Julian.’
She looked after his tall figure with something close to dislike. She had never expected to feel sorry for Camilla, but just occasionally these days she did.
The last person to arrive was Roz. ‘Well,’ said Letitia, ‘this completes the family party. First your mother then your father. How are you, darling?’
‘Very well, thank you. I’ve had the most marvellous time in New York.’
‘I know. Your father’s been worrying about it.’
‘Has he? What did he tell you?’
‘Oh, nothing much. That you have a very unsuitable boyfriend.’
‘Oh, he’s so possessive. Michael isn’t my boyfriend anyway. Just a friend.’
Letitia looked at the necklace that had so worried Julian and changed the subject.
‘I gather that Camilla will be round a bit less.’
‘Really?’ Roz’s face brightened. ‘What’s happened?’
‘She’s moving out of Hanover Terrace.’
‘She’s not! That’s really good news. Oh, it’s so exactly like Daddy not to tell me. I had lunch with him only today. How do you know?’
‘Your father told me.’
‘But why?’
‘Oh, darling, I don’t know. The official reason is that she wants to be her own woman. I think that was the phrase. Poor Camilla.’
‘I never thought to hear you say poor Camilla. I suppose he’s got some new bird.’
‘I daresay. And I do feel sorry for her just at the moment. She’s been very loyal to him, after all.’
‘Granny Letitia, lots of people have been loyal to him. He’s just not loyal back.’
Letitia sighed. ‘You see your father very clearly, don’t you, darling?’
‘Yes, well, I’ve had ample opportunity to study him over the years. Not as much as most daughters, of course, but still enough. Anyway, I’m going to start working for him now.’
‘I know. He told me.’
‘And?’
‘Well, I’m so pleased, darling. And so is he. Thrilled. He loves you very much, Roz. I wish you’d believe that. And he’s always wanted this. I hear you’re going to be in Paris.’
‘Yes. I’d rather New York, of course.’
‘No doubt,’ said Letitia, with a gleam in her eye, ‘that’s why you’re going to Paris.’
‘Yes.’
Letitia looked at Roz and smiled. ‘Well anyway, I do think you’ll enjoy it and have a marvellous time. Do you want to have supper with me, darling?’
‘No, really, I can’t. I’m going round to see Susan. Another time perhaps, before I go.’
‘Yes. You’re very fond of Susan, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. Very, very fond. She’s been really good to me. Ever since I can remember. Even when I was a really awful teenager, I always felt she was on my side. And she never dishes out all that nauseating horse manure about how much my parents adore me, and how lucky I am. She sees everything terribly straight. She was in New York last month,’ she said suddenly, ‘and met Michael. She really liked him.’
‘Good,’ said Letitia, ‘if she liked him, he’s probably nice. I wish Susan could get married,’ she added with a sigh. ‘She deserves some happiness.’
‘Oh, I don’t think she’s unhappy. Anyway, she may be going to marry Richard Brookes. Oh, God, I shouldn’t have told you. Now Granny, you’re not to gossip about that. You’re not to.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Letitia, her purply-blue eyes very wide. ‘But I am delighted.’
‘So am I. Just thank goodness she didn’t marry Daddy, that’s all. Did you know he asked her?’
‘Yes,’ said Letitia, ‘yes, she told me. Good gracious, you are close to her, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘And why do you think that would have been such a bad idea?’
‘Well,’ said Roz, ‘don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Letitia, ‘yes, I’m very much afraid I do.’
The Connection Seven
Los Angeles, 1980
MILES HAD GRADUATED from Berkeley, to his own surprise as much as everyone else’s, summa cum laude in Mathematics.
He walked across the college lawns, towards Hugo and Mrs Kelly who had attended his graduation along with Father Kennedy (an ill-assorted trio, he thought, but what the hell), smiling happily. He looked superb; a beautiful, successful, golden boy. He had had four glorious years; it showed.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello, Miles. Well done.’
‘Thanks, Hugo.’
Mrs Kelly’s eyes were full of tears. She was cross about them, and sniffed fiercely. ‘Congratulations, Miles. I wish your ma was here.’
‘So do I.’ But he didn’t look sad. He didn’t feel sad. Not really. It was too long ago. It was the future that mattered now.
Miles looked towards it, assured, successful, easy, and felt deeply pleased with himself.
Later that night, when they were home and Father Kennedy had gone back to the refuge, the three of them sat in the house in Latego Canyon and watched the sunset.
‘What next then, Miles?’ said Hugo.
�
��Well, you tell me,’ said Miles cheerfully.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I kind of thought you would be helping.’
‘In what way?’
‘Getting me a job.’
‘Oh, no, Miles, you’ve misunderstood me, I’m afraid. I’ve no intention of finding you a job.’
‘God, Hugo, why not? You’re a rich man. You have a company. Can’t it find a space for me?’
‘No. It can’t.’
Miles was genuinely astounded; he looked physically winded, betrayed.
‘But why not?’
‘Because I simply don’t believe in that sort of thing.’
Miles shook his head, smiling.
‘I’m just not hearing all this.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, all these years, I’ve been slaving away–’
‘At my expense.’
‘OK, but you offered. Slaving away, thinking it was all with a clear end in view. That you’d help me get a real good job.’
‘I will help you, Miles. But I’m not giving you one.’
Miles stood up. He looked at Hugo with deep contempt.
‘I just can’t believe anyone can be so mean.’
‘Miles!’ said Mrs Kelly. ‘How dare you. After all that Mr Dashwood has done.’
‘What’s he done?’ said Miles. ‘Signed a few cheques. Is he going to put himself on the line, present me to his company, his fancy friends and associates? He is not. I’m on my own now, Hugo, is that it?’
‘Possibly. With a damn good college education behind you. I don’t call that alone.’
‘You’ve built me up, given me fancy ideas and a smart education, encouraged me to think I was worth something, taken me away from my friends, and now you’re dropping me just back where I belonged. Well thanks a lot.’
‘This really is the most extraordinary way to look at things, Miles.’
‘Is it? I’d have thought it was your way that was extraordinary. To have the power to help and refuse it.’
‘I’m prepared to do what I can. To speak to some associates, perhaps. To give you good references.’
‘Oh, spare me. Don’t bother. I don’t want any lousy job anyway. I never did. It was all your idea. I’m going to see Joanna.’
Old Sins Page 46
