by K. M. Peyton
Some thirty or forty young people had congregated to greet her, now all in their party clothes and on their best behaviour. Antony led Helena out onto the lawn and announced: ‘This is my sister Helena. This is her party. This evening is for her. No one must do her any harm.’
That was plain enough, Lily thought, her eyes now only on Antony, on whom a matching radiance seemed to have fallen: to Lily he had never appeared more handsome and desirable, so dark to Helena’s golden brilliance, so sweet and kind, so utterly in his rightful place under the dusking sky before the great brooding house, all lit with the brilliance of Simon’s electric skill. He wore evening dress, which was very becoming, and the culmination of his long-held party dreams seemed to have given him an authority she had never seen in him before. He might not have done much of the work, but the brilliance of the idea was certainly all his. And now he was here to take credit.
He led Helena down to the water’s edge, where the best punt was waiting, all decked out as elegantly as Helena herself. Squashy held the boat and Simon was waiting to help. They more or less lifted her in and settled her against the cushions. She knew she was on the water. Lily saw her put her hand over the side and draw it slowly along, then put the wet hand to her face to feel it. She was perfectly calm, smiling. Antony and Simon got in carefully and Squashy was given the nod to cast off, but he held still and said in a loud voice, ‘I want to come.’
Antony said, ‘No, Squashy. Come in another boat.’
‘No, I want to come with Helena.’
He stood firm and Lily knew perfectly well that if Antony did not allow him to join them he would scream and ruin the evening.
She ran down and put her arm round him. ‘Take him!’ she hissed at Antony. ‘He will sit like a mouse and you won’t know he’s there. He deserves it, just like Helena.’
Simon said, ‘Yeah, Antony, he can come with us.’
‘And the bloody dog, I suppose.’
Simon laughed, and then Antony laughed too and Squashy slipped into the bow under Simon’s feet and Barky jumped in after him.
Lily pushed the boat off and the two boys poled it out into the deep water. The lights of the grotto trembled across the water, showing the way. The crowd on the lawn, suitably impressed, started to take to the rest of the boats, not very capably, but none closed with Helena’s stately progress. No one invited Lily and all the boats were taken, so she turned back crossly, realizing she would have to walk to the party.
But she had forgotten about the rugger team which had been instructed to deal with Rose and Violet and they were now coming out of the house, laughing.
‘Poor old cows! You sure you locked the door properly?’
‘Yes. There was a load of food on the table and two bottles of sherry, so they should be all right. They put up a hell of a fight though.’
‘All the bloody boats have gone.’
‘It doesn’t matter. We’ll go round in the Rolls.’
Lily approached them. ‘Please take me too.’
‘Of course, darling. Jump in.’
Thank goodness for that: Lily had expected scorn, but the young men seemed to have improved their manners since breakfast time. They had a couple of snooty girls with them who were not obviously impressed by Lily but at least made room for her. Two of the boys sat on the bonnet and a couple on the running boards.
‘Hold tight.’
At least the driver was sensible and nobody fell off. When they arrived they walked over the bridge to the grotto landing and were in time to receive Helena’s stately barge as it was the first to arrive, slipping in from the open lake under the great canopy of the trees that grew crowded from the overhanging rocks on the island. They made to receive it, but Squashy jumped out and elbowed them out of the way, kneeling down to hold the punt steady.
‘Leave him, leave him!’ Antony commanded, as a couple of the boys made to kick Squashy out of the way.
‘He’s the boatman here,’ Simon said crisply. ‘It’s his job.’
Squashy beamed and Barky growled menacingly. The boys moved back, and then saw that they were in the privileged position of helping Helena out of the punt so forgot about Squashy and moved forward to greet her. She moved with such grace, as if stepping out of a punt was something she was perfectly practised in, but it was clear she did not know where on earth she was. How could she know? Her calm expression now showed doubt and a hint of fear. Antony saw it and stepped out quickly, taking her in his arms. She knew him and relaxed, smiling. Then Lily saw that the beauty of the grotto was all for nothing where Helena was concerned. And would the now-arriving, noisy, stupid boys and their hanger-on girls appreciate it as she had earlier? Somehow she doubted it. She wanted to see it again, before she felt that it would be despoiled, and was thankful when Antony nodded to her and said, ‘Put your arm round her, she knows you. We’ll take her in together.’
So she went with Antony and Helena into the grotto where, since she had last been there, a beautiful chair had been installed for Helena, draped in crimson cloth like a veritable throne in the centre of the glittering room. The candles had all been lit and the flames danced in multitude reflections over the pearly walls and stalactites, along with the coloured electric bulbs. The food that she had so elaborately dreamed up was all set out in a most professional style, along with the bottles of champagne and the priceless glasses borrowed from the house. Lily had never seen a party like it, nor dreamed that anything could look so gorgeous – all for Helena, who could not see it, or even know where she was. She wanted to cry for Helena, half afraid at what Antony was doing.
But now the rest of the party-goers were crowding in and the gasps of amazement echoed all round. Antony was seating Helena on the throne-chair and not letting go of her, and Simon came forward to be beside him, so as the party-comers started to throng in with exclamations of amazement at what they were seeing, Lily decided to back out and keep out of the way. Everything was turning out so well; she could not believe Antony’s luck. The idea had been so crazy, yet he had made it happen.
It was now dusk outside and the first stars were trembling through the leaves. The birds were quiet, save for the owls hunting over the farm. She stood, pulling her brain together, as the motley collection of arriving boats struggled to find space in the narrow passage under the overhanging trees. The boys amused themselves by crashing into each other, hitting each other with their oars and pushing each other from one boat into the other as the ones in front of them took turns to land. Squashy had taken on Antony’s direction as head boatman and was trying in vain to land each boat safely, but no one took any notice of him. The more agitated he got the more excited Barky became, running up and down and barking his head off.
Lily went to him and said, ‘Leave them, Squashy. Let them park themselves.’
‘Antony told me! It’s my job!’ He yanked himself away from her.
‘Oh, poor diddums!’ A tall young man stepped out with his friends and mimicked Squashy’s garbled complaint. ‘Aren’t we taking any notice of you then?’
‘And what a bloody noisy dog you’ve got! We really don’t want him at the party, do we?’
‘Let’s get rid of him!’
‘Throw him in, throw him in!’ One of the boys scooped Barky up and flung him out into the clear water beyond the landing.
Squashy screamed and launched himself at the boy, and by pure chance caught him off balance so that he tipped backwards into the water. He surfaced, furious, and put out a hand to grab at the landing but Lily stamped on it and he let go with an oath.
‘Make room up there!’ they were shouting from the logjam.
Lily grabbed Squashy by the arm and hissed at him, ‘Behave yourself. Get out of their way – they’ll throw you in too if you’re not careful.’ She dragged him away from the landing and into the bushes.
‘Barky! Barky’ he shouted, hiccupping with grief. ‘He’ll drown! He’ll drown!’
‘Don’t be stupid! He can swim as well as you can.
Oh, they are such idiots!’ Lily groaned.
Boats were landing now and just being pushed out of the way to the clear water beyond the landing. Barky was paddling his way round them as best he could. The boy who Squashy had pushed in had landed, his elegant evening dress soaked through, and was shouting, ‘We don’t want this bloody dog at the party. Get away from here, you cur!’ With which he picked up a handful of stones, and started throwing them at Barky.
Barky yelped. Lily could see the dog’s expression, enjoying the fun, turn to hurt. Nobody had ever hurt Barky before. Another boy threw a stone, then two others. They were good shots and hit the little dog fair and square so that he yelped again, this time in pain. Squashy was now screaming, fighting and clawing at Lily to let him go. Tormenting the dog was now more fun for the boys than hitting each over the head with their oars, and in a tangle of boats landing and boys shouting, more stones flew through the air and Barky’s yelps turned into howls. But still he tried to get back to Squashy, paddling frantically.
Lily screamed at them, terrified that Squashy would have one of his fits. She picked up an abandoned oar and advanced on the ringleaders, but suddenly it was snatched out of her hands and she glimpsed Cedric’s furious face.
‘Stay back,’ he hissed at her.
He swung the oar wildly just as Lily had intended, but with far more power than Lily could have managed and swiped three boys straight into the water. The other boys turned on Cedric and a free fight broke out, bodies flying in all directions, and great shouts of encouragement came echoing from the party-goers still waiting to land from their boats. Squashy stopped crying at once and ran down the grotto bank to reach Barky who was paddling determinedly on, and Lily turned into the fight to try and rescue Cedric who was being overwhelmed by force of numbers. She thought that gentlemen would not attack a lady, but was soon disabused of the idea when someone tripped her up and she went sprawling face down. Someone trod on her and she screamed.
The next moment she heard Antony’s voice, loud and angry as she had never heard it before, uttering words she had never heard before, and the whole melee came to an abrupt standstill. She struggled to her feet and saw everyone as if petrified in mid-conflict, fists dropped, faces gaping.
‘This is supposed to be a bloody party!’
A mortified silence, then someone said, ‘Terribly sorry, old chap! We got carried away. Some idiot attacked us, this fellow here actually.’
He pointed at Cedric with his oar and Antony laughed and said, ‘Cedric wouldn’t hurt a fly. You must be drunk already. The food’s waiting. Just get landed and come on in.’
The atmosphere had changed in a trice and someone was actually shaking Cedric’s hand, and even the boys in the water were hauling themselves out laughing. Then Antony saw Lily dusting herself down, and he turned and went to her and put his arm round her and said, ‘Lily, I’m so sorry. They are idiots. Are you all right?’
‘Yes. They threw Barky in and flung stones at him. That’s what happened. Squashy went mad.’
‘They didn’t mean any harm. It’s all right now.’
And he put both arms round her and held her close for a moment so that she almost passed away with heavenly delight. He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead and then turned away and went back into the grotto. The boats were quickly abandoned and the party-goers all trooped in after him, leaving Lily alone, dazed, on the landing. She could hear Squashy mumbling and squeaking somewhere, comforting Barky who had apparently made shore, and a party noise emanated from the mouth of the grotto that convinced her that there was no way she could go back in. She had seen the grotto as she always wanted to remember it: she did not want to see it despoiled by these stupid louts. Her heart was thumping, whether from the fight or Antony’s embrace she could not tell, but she wanted peace and quiet: she felt very close to bursting into tears.
As she stood, feeling trembly and indecisive, Cedric appeared out of the grotto passage.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Just came to see. Did you get hurt?’
‘No. But I don’t want to go in there – all those idiots. It was so beautiful, empty, with the lights and all. I don’t want it spoilt.’
‘But it was for them, for Helena, for the party. The food is lovely. It’s not spoilt, Lily, not now. They will be kind to you now.’
‘No.’
‘Later then, when you’ve calmed down. It was bad for you, Squashy getting so upset.’
‘Yes, I’ll sit with him for a bit. He doesn’t understand.’
He nodded, understanding, and went back in. Lily felt comforted and went to find Squashy, who was jabbering away to his dog, hugging him to death.
‘He’s all right now, Squashy. Let him free.’
‘They wanted to kill him!’
‘He’s happy now. Look how his tail’s wagging. Put him down.’
Squashy released the dog, who shook himself gratefully and set to scratching his fleas. Lily sat down beside Squashy amongst the willows on the far side of the island, where all was undisturbed. The grass was still warm, the night very calm, the full moon high over the lake and the stars so bright that they were reflected in the still water. All just as Antony had arranged. The abandoned boats were floating around in all directions, Squashy having forgotten that he was in charge, not caring any more. In a few minutes he was fast asleep, Barky settling down beside him. He often fell asleep suddenly: it was part of his affliction and Lily was used to it. Poor little sausage, she thought, thinking how wonderful it would have been to have had a strong, brainy brother around to help. With her father growing old she was never going to be free of her cares, as far as she could see. If he had been like Cedric, how proud her father would have been!
She lay down too, suddenly very tired. It was long past her bedtime and she had hardly slept the night before. She had no worries now, everything was in hand, and she too fell asleep.
She had no idea what time it was when the party ended, or if it had an end at all. When she opened her eyes it was because someone fell over her, cursing, looking for she knew not what. He was naked, which gave her a startled awakening, but when she sat up she saw that a lot of the boys were swimming, and mostly they had no clothes on. She sat up. They were all very jolly, rounding up the boats.
‘Is the party over?’ she asked the embarrassed boy who had fallen over her.
‘Yeah, Helena’s left. We’re going back when we can round up the bloody boats.’
‘Where’s Antony?’
‘I don’t know.’
He must be with Helena, Lily thought. She got up quickly and started to push her way across the landing and under the tunnel of trees to the far side of the island. The tunnel was crammed with departing boats, but quite a few were already out on the open lake and were surrounding Helena’s punt. There was a lot of shouting and singing and Antony and Simon were rowing very slowly and laughing. Lily stood watching. The lake with the little boats dotted over it in the moonlight had never looked more beautiful and she stood taking it in: that Antony’s amazing party for Helena had been such a success and that Helena was going home having experienced what must have been the most wonderful occasion of her poor stunted life. Lily felt herself close to tears with emotion, with pity for Helena, with gratitude for everything going so right after all the hard work. She had been so frightened at times, at what they were doing.
Suddenly an eerie noise, strong and pure, interrupted the party noise. It was unearthly, piercing, and very beautiful. Lily saw that Helena had stood up in the punt and she was singing, her face held up to the moonlight. She looked ecstatic, the gorgeous sound drowning all the raucous party noise around her. Lily remembered the story of how Helena had sung so unexpectedly before at her mother’s funeral; it must have had the same stunning effect as it was having now, for all the laughing and shouting had stopped. Everyone was suspended, gaping, even the swimmers. The night seemed to be filled with the amazing sound, so pure and without a
melody but with the anguish of a lament. Antony and Simon were frozen in mid-stroke.
How long she sang for, Lily never knew, only that it seemed that the night was standing still for her, the swans immobile, the boats as if petrified. The light of the moon was so bright that every detail of her beauty was as if magnified: she was unearthly, her face held with an expression of rapture while the sound filled the night – not a melody, no song, but just a voice brimming – it seemed to Lily – with all the longing she felt for a life she could not have, could not see, could not hear, but a longing she could only express in this weird, heartchilling aria. Nothing moved, not even an owl called, nor a leaf fell.
Lily could see that Antony was petrified for her standing so precariously, and was trying to creep towards her in the bottom of the boat, but even as he did so another punt, taken by one of the strange currents that flowed beneath the lake, nudged the side of her punt. Not hard, but Helena was tipped off balance. She stopped singing, held out her arms to Antony, but before he could reach her she crumpled up: the punt tipped sideways and she slid into the water.
A girl shrieked and all was total confusion. Lily saw Antony plunge in, and then Simon, and then everyone was shouting and screaming and boats were crashing in all directions. Lily found herself screaming. Squashy materialized beside her, wanting to know what had happened, and Barky added his hysterical noise to the scene.
‘Helena’s fallen in!’
Squashy screamed and immediately jumped into the water. Barky howled. Lily sobbed. She was not afraid for Squashy; he could swim like a fish, but where was Helena? The empty punt bobbed serenely, empty, but in the crowd of swimmers splashing and diving all around it no Helena appeared. Lily saw Antony bob up, shout something, and disappear again. Lily knew the water was very deep just where they were and guessed he was getting frantic. And yet he had been quick enough to dive in: could he not clutch her hair or her voluminous dress? How could she have sunk so quickly? But then she remembered her father’s stories of the strange currents at the far end of the lake and previous drownings, a suicide or two, stories she had put away as ridiculous because she and the boys had all swum like fishes there with no mishap.
