‘Oh, nothing. But sometimes I feel I can’t stand much more of this …’
She broke off as there was a sound of the front door of the flat opening. Sarah came into the room and looked pleased to see Laura Whitstable.
‘Oh, Laura, I didn’t know you were here.’
‘How’s my godchild?’
Sarah came over and kissed her. Her cheek was fresh and cold from the outside air.
‘I’m fine.’
Murmuring something, Ann left the room. Sarah’s eyes followed her. As they returned and met Dame Laura’s, Sarah flushed guiltily.
Laura Whitstable nodded her head vigorously.
‘Yes, your mother’s been crying.’
Sarah looked virtuous and indignant.
‘Well, it’s not my fault.’
‘Isn’t it? You’re fond of your mother, aren’t you?’
‘I adore Mother. You know I do.’
‘Then why make her unhappy?’
‘But I don’t. I don’t do anything.’
‘You quarrel with Richard, don’t you?’
‘Oh, that! Nobody could help it! He’s impossible! If only Mother could realize how impossible he is! I really think she will some day.’
Laura Whitstable said:
‘Must you try and arrange other people’s lives for them, Sarah? In my young days it was parents who were accused of doing that to their children. Nowadays, it seems, it’s the other way round.’
Sarah sat down on the arm of Laura Whitstable’s chair. Her manner was confiding.
‘But I’m very worried,’ she said. ‘She’s not going to be happy with him, you see.’
‘It’s none of your business, Sarah.’
‘But I can’t help minding about it. Because I don’t want Mother to be unhappy. And she will be. Mother’s so – so helpless. She needs looking after.’
Laura Whitstable imprisoned Sarah’s two sunburnt hands in hers. She spoke with a forcefulness that startled Sarah into attention and something like alarm.
‘Now listen, Sarah. Listen to me. Be careful. Be very careful.’
‘What do you mean?’
Again Laura spoke with emphasis.
‘Be very careful you don’t let your mother do something she’ll regret all her life.’
‘That’s just what I –’
Laura swept on.
‘I’m warning you. No one else will.’ She gave a sudden prolonged sniff, drawing in air through her nose. ‘I smell something in the air, Sarah, and I’ll tell you what it is. It’s the smell of a burnt offering – and I don’t like burnt offerings.’
Before they could say any more Edith opened the door and announced:
‘Mr Lloyd.’
Sarah jumped up.
‘Hullo, Gerry.’ She turned to Laura Whitstable. ‘This is Gerry Lloyd. My godmother, Dame Laura Whit-stable.’
Gerry shook hands and said:
‘I believe I heard you on the wireless last night.’
‘How gratifying.’
‘Giving the second talk in the series “How to Be Alive Today”. I was much impressed.’
‘None of your impudence,’ said Dame Laura, looking at him with a sudden twinkle.
‘No, but I was, really. You seemed to have all the answers.’
‘Ah,’ said Dame Laura. ‘It’s always easier to tell someone how to make a cake than to do it yourself. It’s also much more enjoyable. Bad for the character, though. I am well aware that I get more odious every day.’
‘Oh, you don’t,’ said Sarah.
‘Yes, I do, child. I’ve almost reached the point of giving people good advice – an unpardonable sin. I shall go and find your mother now, Sarah.’
2
As soon as Laura Whitstable had left the room, Gerry said:
‘I’m getting out of this country, Sarah.’
Sarah stared at him, stricken.
‘Oh, Gerry – when?’
‘Practically at once. Next Thursday.’
‘Where?’
‘South Africa.’
‘But that’s a long way,’ cried Sarah.
‘It is rather.’
‘You won’t come back for years and years!’
‘Probably not.’
‘What are you going to do there?’
‘Grow oranges. I’m going in with a couple of other chaps. Ought to be quite fun.’
‘Oh, Gerry, must you go?’
‘Well, I’m fed up with this country. It’s too tame and too smug. It’s got no use for me and I haven’t got any use for it.’
‘What about your uncle?’
‘Oh, we’re no longer on speaking terms; Aunt Lena’s been quite kind, though. Gave me a cheque and some patent stuff for snake bites.’
He grinned.
‘But do you know anything about growing oranges, Gerry?’
‘Nothing whatever, but I imagine one soon picks it up.’
Sarah sighed.
‘I shall miss you …’
‘I don’t suppose you will – not for long.’ Gerry spoke rather gruffly, avoiding looking at her. ‘If one’s away at the other side of the world, people soon forget one.’
‘No, they don’t …’
He gave her a quick glance.
‘Don’t they?’
Sarah shook her head.
They looked away from each other, embarrassed.
‘It’s been fun – going about together,’ said Gerry.
‘Yes …’
‘People do quite well with oranges sometimes.’
‘I expect they do.’
Gerry said, choosing his words carefully:
‘I believe it’s quite a cheery life – for a woman, I mean. Good climate – and plenty of servants – all that.’
‘Yes.’
‘But I suppose you’ll go marrying some fellow …’
‘Oh, no.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘It’s a great mistake to marry too young. I don’t mean to get married for ages.’
‘You think that – but some swine or other will make you change your mind,’ said Gerry gloomily.
‘I’ve got a very cold nature,’ said Sarah reassuringly.
They stood, awkwardly, not looking at each other. Then Gerry, his face very pale, said in a choked voice:
‘Darling Sarah – I’m crazy about you. You do know that?’
‘Are you?’
Slowly, as though unwillingly, they drew closer together. Gerry’s arms went round her. Timidly, wonderingly, they kissed …
Strange, Gerry thought, that he should be so clumsy. He had been a gay young man and had had plenty of experience with girls. But this wasn’t ‘girls’, this was his own darling Sarah …
‘Gerry.’
‘Sarah …’
He kissed her again.
‘You won’t forget, darling Sarah, will you? All the amusing times we’ve had – and everything?’
‘Of course I won’t forget.’
‘You’ll write to me?’
‘I’ve got rather a thing about writing letters.’
‘But you’ll write to me. Please, darling. I shall be so lonely …’
Sarah pulled away from him and gave a shaky little laugh.
‘You won’t be lonely. There’ll be lots of girls.’
‘If there are they’ll be a lousy lot, I expect. But I rather imagine there will be nothing but oranges.’
‘You’d better send me a case from time to time.’
‘I will indeed. Oh, Sarah, I’d do anything for you.’
‘Well then, work hard. Make a success of your old orange farm.’
‘I will. I swear I will.’
Sarah sighed.
‘I wish you hadn’t got to go just now,’ she said. ‘It’s been such a comfort having you to talk things over with.’
‘How’s Cauliflower? Do you like him any better?’
‘No, I don’t. We never stop having rows. But,’ her voice was triumphant, ‘I think I’m winning, Gerry!’
; Gerry looked at her uncomfortably.
‘You mean your mother –’
Sarah nodded her head in triumph.
‘I think she’s beginning to see how impossible he is.’
Gerry looked more uncomfortable still.
‘Sarah, I wish you wouldn’t, somehow –’
‘Not fight Cauliflower? I shall fight him tooth and nail! I won’t give up. Mother’s got to be saved.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t interfere, Sarah. Your mother must know herself what she wants.’
‘I told you before, Mother’s weak. She gets sorry for people and her judgment goes. I’m saving her from making an unhappy marriage.’
Gerry took his courage in both hands.
‘Well, I still think you’re just jealous.’
Sarah cast him a furious look.
‘All right! If that’s what you think! You’d better go now.’
‘Now don’t be mad with me. I daresay you know what you’re doing.’
‘Of course I know,’ said Sarah.
3
Ann was in her bedroom sitting in front of the dressing-table when Laura Whitstable came in.
‘Feeling better now, my dear?’
‘Yes. It was really very stupid of me. I mustn’t let these things get on my nerves.’
‘A young man has just arrived. Gerald Lloyd. Is that the one –’
‘Yes. What did you think of him?’
‘Sarah’s in love with him, of course.’
Ann looked troubled. ‘Oh dear, I do hope not.’
‘No good your hoping.’
‘It can’t come to anything, you see.’
‘He’s thoroughly unsatisfactory, is he?’
Ann sighed. ‘I’m afraid so. He never sticks to anything. He’s attractive. One can’t help liking him but –’
‘No stability?’
‘One just feels he will never make good anywhere. Sarah is always saying what hard luck he’s had, but I don’t think it’s only that.’ She went on: ‘Sarah knows so many really nice men, too.’
‘And finds them dull, I suppose. Nice capable girls – and Sarah is really very capable – are always attracted to detrimentals. It seems a law of nature. I must confess that I found the young man attractive myself.’
‘Even you, Laura?’
‘I have my womanly weaknesses, Ann. Good night, my dear. Good luck to you.’
4
Richard arrived at the flat just before eight. He was to dine there with Ann. Sarah was going out to a dinner and dance. She was in the sitting-room when he arrived, painting her nails. There was a smell of pear-drops in the air. She looked up and said: ‘Hullo, Richard,’ and then resumed operations. Richard watched her with irritation. He was rather dismayed himself at the increasing dislike he felt for Sarah. He had meant so well, had seen himself as the kindly and friendly stepfather, indulgent – almost fond. He had been prepared for suspicion at first, but had seen himself easily overcoming childish prejudices.
Instead it seemed to him that it was Sarah and not he who was in command of the situation. Her cool disdain and dislike pierced his sensitive skin and both wounded and humiliated him. Richard had never thought very much of himself; Sarah’s treatment lowered his self-esteem still further. All his efforts, first to placate, then to dominate her, had been disastrous. He always seemed to say and do the wrong thing. Behind his dislike of Sarah there was growing, too, a rising irritation with Ann. Ann should support him. Ann should turn on Sarah and put her in her place, Ann should be on his side. Her efforts to play peacemaker, to steer a middle course, annoyed him. That sort of thing was no earthly use, and Ann ought to realize the fact!
Sarah stretched out a hand to dry, turning it this way and that.
Aware that it would have been better to say nothing, Richard could not stop himself remarking:
‘Looks as though you’ve dipped your fingers in blood. I can’t think why you girls have to put that stuff on your nails.’
‘Can’t you?’
Seeking for some safer topic, Richard went on:
‘I met your friend young Lloyd this evening. He told me he was going out to South Africa.’
‘He’s going on Thursday.’
‘He’ll have to put his back into it if he wants to make a success out there. It’s no place for a man who doesn’t fancy working.’
‘I suppose you know all about South Africa?’
‘All these places are much the same. They need men with guts.’
‘Gerry has plenty of guts,’ said Sarah, adding, ‘if you must use that expression.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’
Sarah raised her head and gave him a cool stare.
‘I just think it’s rather disgusting – that’s all,’ she said.
Richard’s face went red.
‘It’s a pity your mother didn’t bring you up to have better manners,’ he said.
‘Was I rude?’ Her eyes opened in an innocent stare. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Her exaggerated apology did nothing to soothe him.
He asked abruptly:
‘Where’s your mother?’
‘She’s changing. She’ll be here in a minute.’
Sarah opened her bag and studied her face carefully. She began to touch it up, repainting her lips, applying eyebrow pencil. She had really made up her face some time ago. Her actions now were calculated to annoy Richard. She knew that he had a queer old-fashioned dislike of seeing a woman make up her face in public.
Trying to speak facetiously, Richard said:
‘Come now, Sarah, don’t overdo it.’
She lowered the mirror she was holding and said:
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean the paint and powder. Men don’t really like such a lot of make-up, I can assure you. You simply make yourself look –’
‘Like a tart, I suppose you mean?’
Richard said angrily:
‘I didn’t say so.’
‘But you meant it.’ Sarah dashed the make-up implements back in her bag. ‘Anyway, what the hell business is it of yours?’
‘Look here, Sarah –’
‘What I put on my face is my own business. It’s no business of yours, you interfering Nosy Parker.’
Sarah was trembling with rage, half crying.
Richard lost his temper thoroughly. He shouted at her:
‘Of all the insufferable, bad-tempered little vixens. You’re absolutely impossible!’
At that moment Ann came in. She stopped in the doorway and said wearily: ‘Oh dear, what’s the matter now?’
Sarah rushed out past her. Ann looked at Richard.
‘I was just telling her that she puts too much make-up on her face.’
Ann gave a sharp exasperated sigh.
‘Really, Richard, I do think you might have a little more sense. What earthly business is it of yours?’
Richard paced up and down angrily.
‘Oh, very well. If you like your daughter going out looking like a tart.’
‘Sarah doesn’t look like a tart,’ said Ann sharply. ‘What a horrid thing to say. All girls use make-up nowadays. You’re so old-fashioned in your ideas, Richard.’
‘Old-fashioned! Out-of-date! – You don’t think much of me, do you, Ann?’
‘Oh, Richard, must we quarrel? Don’t you realize that in saying what you did about Sarah, you’re really criticizing me?’
‘I can’t say I think you’re a particularly judicious mother. Not if Sarah is a specimen of your bringing up.’
‘That’s a cruel thing to say and it’s not true. There’s nothing wrong with Sarah.’
Richard flung himself down on a sofa.
‘God help a man who marries a woman with an only daughter,’ he said.
Ann’s eyes filled with tears.
‘You knew about Sarah when you asked me to marry you. I told you how much I loved her and all she meant to me.’
‘I didn’t know you were absolutely besotted ab
out her! It’s Sarah, Sarah, Sarah with you from morning to night!’
‘Oh dear,’ said Ann. She went over to him and sat down beside him. ‘Richard, do try to be reasonable. I did think Sarah might be jealous of you – but I didn’t think you’d be jealous of Sarah.’
‘I’m not jealous of Sarah,’ said Richard sulkily.
‘But darling, you are.’
‘You always put Sarah first.’
‘Oh dear.’ Ann lay back helplessly and shut her eyes. ‘I really don’t know what to do.’
‘Where do I come in? Nowhere. I simply don’t count with you. You put off our marriage – simply because Sarah asked you to –’
‘I wanted to give her a little more time to get used to the idea.’
‘Is she any more used to it now? She spends her whole time doing every earthly thing she can to annoy me.’
‘I know she’s been difficult – but really, Richard, I do think you exaggerate. Poor Sarah can hardly say a word without your flying into a rage.’
‘Poor Sarah. Poor Sarah. You see? That’s what you feel!’
‘After all, Richard, Sarah’s very little more than a child. One makes allowances for her. But you’re a man – an adult human being.’
Richard said suddenly, disarmingly:
‘It’s because I love you so, Ann.’
‘Oh, my dear.’
‘We were so happy together – before Sarah came home.’
‘I know …’
‘And now – all the time I seem to be losing you.’
‘But you’re not losing me, Richard.’
‘Ann, dearest – you do still love me?’
Ann said with sudden passion:
‘More than ever, Richard. More than ever.’
5
Dinner was a successful meal. Edith had taken pains with it, and the flat, with Sarah’s tempestuous influence removed, was once again the peaceful setting it had been before.
Richard and Ann talked together, laughed, reminded each other of past incidents, and to both of them it was a welcome halcyon calm.
It was after they had returned to the drawing-room and had finished their coffee and Benedictine that Richard said:
‘This has been a wonderful evening. So peaceful. Ann dearest, if it could always be like this.’
‘But it will be, Richard.’
‘You don’t really mean that, Ann. You know, I’ve been thinking things over. Truth’s an unpleasant thing, but it’s got to be faced. Quite frankly, I’m afraid that Sarah and I are never going to hit it off. If the three of us try to live together, life’s going to be impossible. In fact, there’s only one thing to be done.’
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