Facing the Light

by Adele Geras

  ‘I might get there early,’ Reuben said. ‘I’m making good time.’

  ‘Come in and meet Leonora then, and have a cup of coffee before the shindig gets going.’

  Shindig. Another good British word. Reuben said, ‘I’ll take a raincheck on that, Efe, if you don’t mind. I want to walk in those lovely gardens for a while. Would that be okay?’

  Reuben was assured that the gardens were at his disposal. He glanced out of the window. This was the sort of day, he reflected, that earned England its reputation as a beautiful country. In this weather, the Wiltshire villages he was driving through had ‘traditional idyllic landscape’ written all over them, and there were stretches of the route when he felt that he was driving through a film set. Rain, grey streets, sidewalks covered in litter, boring suburbs and featureless estates on the outskirts of cities might have belonged on another planet, and it amazed him that in a country this size there could be so many different views out of a car window.

  He’d left London early to beat the traffic and was just beginning to get the hang of the white BMW he’d hired. Beside him on the passenger seat was the perfect birthday present. Leonora would never expect such a thing, and Reuben was sure that the serendipity of how he found it would be part of its appeal for her. It was, he knew, unique, and would stand out from every single thing anyone else could possibly have thought to give her.

  Reuben had not been looking forward to his meeting with Leonora. Persuasion, charm assaults, bringing pressure to bear; he hated anything that forced him to be something other than what he naturally was, and he had a pretty good idea what that was. He was a quiet man who hated the limelight. ‘Strong and silent’ his ex-wife called him once, but that was a long time ago and now, at the biblical age of three score years and ten, he could no longer claim strength as a distinguishing characteristic. Tall. He was tall and quiet. Some people said he was stubborn, but he preferred to think of himself as determined. He’d been ready to put his case to Leonora as forcefully as he could, but he wasn’t sorry that none of that would now be necessary. Now, his gift was a way of thanking her, rather than a kind of bribe. Reuben began to hum ‘Oh, What a Beautiful Morning’, as the green and gold countryside slid past at high speed; white clouds in the blue sky looked as though they were racing to keep up with him. I’m on my way to Willow Court, Reuben said to himself. He couldn’t help feeling optimistic and younger than he had for years.

  *

  Alex had set his alarm for seven o’clock, thinking that he’d be the first up and could wait quietly outside the marquee for the caterers to start setting the tables with glasses and flower arrangements and so forth. He wanted some shots of everything in preparation.

  Before he got out of bed, he did a mental check to make sure that what he thought had happened last night wasn’t a figment of his imagination. Beth. She’d made it quite clear how she felt about him. He wasn’t second-best to Efe. He hadn’t dared to bring the subject up, but characteristically, she had. She’d talked and talked about it and he just sat there listening to her. She went over the whole history of her relationship with his brother. He smiled. Had she realized that half the time he wasn’t even taking in what she was saying? That he was too busy wallowing in the nearness of her body to his?

  The love he felt for her! It was as though someone had blown up a balloon somewhere inside him. It was weird. He felt full to bursting with unaccustomed emotion, which made him feel like laughing and crying and leaping about like a fool. Was it any wonder people behaved so stupidly half the time when they were in love? He got out of bed, and washed and dressed, and had a cup of coffee standing up in the kitchen. Then he stumbled outside at about half past seven only to find that both his parents were in full organizational mode. James was wasting Bridget’s time by chatting to her while she was trying to oversee the table settings and get started on the food. Gwen was hovering around, watching the comings and goings of the staff, still in their jeans and T-shirts. She was looking as though she were not quite sure whether there was something she ought to be doing.

  ‘Stand still, Mum,’ Alex said. ‘I’m going to take a photo of you.’

  ‘Oh, not looking like this, Alex, please!’ Gwen said, and added, ‘How come you’re up so early? I was going to wake you all at nine o’clock.’

  Alex took one photograph after another, taking no notice of his mother’s protestations about not being presentable. He said, ‘I wanted to get some shots of what it all looks like before the crowds get turned loose on it. When’s everyone coming?’

  ‘Drinks on the terrace from eleven or so. Lunch from one onwards. Oh, goodness, I really do hope everything goes without a hitch.’

  ‘Course it will.’ Alex spoke soothingly, wondering at what exact point in the morning’s activities his mother and Leonora would need to be told about Fiona. He raised the camera to his eye and focused on a young woman carrying a tray into the marquee. The sunlight caught the glasses and made them sparkle. Even at this distance, Alex thought, that’ll look good.

  *

  This is the very best bit of any social occasion, Rilla said to herself, as she lay in the bath and let the scented water cover her. Not vanilla at Willow Court, but Gwen’s favourite, Crabtree & Evelyn’s ‘Nantucket Briar’. The wonderful part is always before something begins. Deferred gratification. Expectation. Anticipation. For a moment, she closed her eyes and thought about last night. Sean had been so kind. Being near the lake was hard for her, but she’d done it, after years and years, and it would get easier. The taste of his kisses couldn’t possibly still be on her lips but if she concentrated hard she could call it to mind exactly, and she felt her whole body become as warm and liquid as the water that surrounded her. She smiled. Talk about deferred gratification! This delaying of pleasure meant that she was in an almost permanent state of sexual excitement. Stop thinking about Sean, she told herself. This is Leonora’s day.

  Getting ready for the party was like ‘the half’ in the theatre, the thirty minutes before a performance when you sat in front of the mirror and saw your face framed by lights, waiting to be worked on and full of possibilities. Behind you in the dressing room, your costume would be hanging on a rail, and soon you’d step into it and become someone else. Here, the dress was in the cupboard, and Rilla imagined the folds of chiffon floating in the darkness, waiting for her. She’d hesitated before buying it. There was a superstition in the theatre about wearing green but Rilla prided herself on being rational and, in any case, this wasn’t the theatre and the colour wasn’t properly green. It had so much blue in it and was so pale that the first thing you thought when you saw it was, that dress looks like the ocean. Perhaps it was nearer turquoise. Or pale peacock. Whatever the shade, it was the way the skirt drifted round her legs, the way the neckline flattered her bosom and shoulders, that made her fall in love with it. She could hardly wait to put it on.

  But it wasn’t a costume or a disguise. I don’t want to be anyone except myself, she thought, getting out of the water and silently congratulating Leonora on the luxury of the Willow Court towels as she wrapped herself in one the size of a small blanket. I’m going to concentrate on making myself as beautiful as I possibly can.

  On the way back to her bedroom, she noticed that the door of the nursery was open. Oh, God, she thought. Had Douggie got in there before Fiona drove off with him? Rilla went to see what he might have got up to, not even daring to think of Leonora’s reaction to any new damage.

  ‘Beth! What are you doing here? I thought it was Douggie. Why aren’t you getting ready?

  ‘Sorry, Rilla. I just wanted a place to think quietly for a bit.’

  She was kneeling on the floor, looking at the dolls. Looking as though she were just about to pick them up and play with them.

  ‘Something wrong?’ Rilla sounded tentative. Beth seemed to her quiet rather than miserable, but it was important to make sure.

  ‘Well, not wrong exactly.’ Beth sighed. ‘I suppose I can tell you, though
Efe doesn’t want anyone to know yet. Fiona’s done a runner.’

  ‘Yes, I knew about that. I looked into their room and saw that her things were missing. What I don’t really know is why she chose this exact moment.’

  ‘She found a message on Efe’s phone. An obscene message from what I’ve heard. Did you know that Efe was cheating on her?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ Rilla frowned. ‘But now you mention it, it seems in character. And look at this, Beth. Mother must have been in here during the night. These are the real dolls. The ones Maude made for her. The ones we were never allowed to play with. How astonishing! I wonder why she did that. She never does anything without a reason. I wonder if I dare to ask her.’ She picked up the little girl doll, and looked at her and then put her back carefully, knowing Leonora would notice if she’d been moved.

  Beth sat back on her heels. She took the father doll and put him to stand at the dining room window, looking out. Rilla wondered whether she ought to say something, tell her not to touch the Ethan figure. She was just about to speak when Beth said, ‘I’ve had my mind changed, Rilla. These few days. I don’t think we’ve been together for so long and at such close quarters since we were kids. I think I had a distorted opinion of him.’

  Rilla looked at Beth. She could hear a slight trembling in her daughter’s voice and chided herself for being a bloody fool.

  ‘Oh, Bethy, no. You love him, don’t you? Efe. You really, really love him. I never knew. I’m so sorry. I’m always too caught up in my own things to notice. Poor darling …’

  ‘I did love him but I don’t any more. Not at all, really, in the way I used to. I’ve been a bloody fool, honestly. I mean, even after he married Fiona, I sort of hoped. I had these fantasies, you know? That one day he’d just say no, it’s you I really love, Beth. Not Fiona at all. I’ve made a terrible mistake. But he didn’t, of course. And I’ve been so horrible to Fiona. I hated her, for no real reason except that Efe loved her. Poor thing. He might have loved her once, but he doesn’t exactly seem brokenhearted, does he? More concerned with the Maude Walsh revelations than the fact that his wife has left him.’

  ‘Oh, Beth, it’s not fair! I really wanted you to have a lovely time at this party. You deserve it.’

  Beth got to her feet and smiled. ‘I intend to. Efe will never spoil anything for me ever again. I don’t know why I came in here. I think I just wanted to look at the dolls to remind myself of … I’m not quite sure what I wanted to remember. Maybe that real life isn’t as easily arrangeable as dolls’ house life. I’m going to get ready now, I promise. But I can come in later and put your hair up. Would you like me to?’

  ‘Oh, darling, would you?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll come and do it when I’m dressed.’

  Beth left the room with such a light step that Rilla wondered briefly whether there was something else Beth should have told her but hadn’t. She made her way to her own room and sat down at the dressing-table, thinking about Fiona. Well, she said to herself as she massaged moisturizer into her face and neck, I’ll ask her when she comes to do my hair. I’d never have credited Fiona with the nerve to walk out like that. She wondered what Leonora would say. And Gwen, too, when she heard that there would be a space at the family table. Fiona’s parents probably wouldn’t be here either, which meant the disruption of all her careful arrangements.

  Gwen, she was quite sure, had been up since dawn, but soon the corridor would be full of the excitement of everyone else getting ready for the party. There would be many different perfumes in the air. Rilla sprayed Vivienne Westwood’s Boudoir all over her body, and was just thinking how divine it was, when someone knocked on her door.

  ‘Come in,’ she called, and there was Gwen, dressed in a tracksuit and looking harassed. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I’ve just spoken to Efe, Rilla. Do you know what’s happened?’ Something, some instinct, told Rilla to lie. Gwen might be put out to realize that Rilla knew something about her son before she did and there was no point in asking for an argument.

  ‘No, Gwen … it isn’t Mother, is it?’

  Gwen shook her head. ‘It’s Fiona. She’s left him. Left Efe, I mean. I can’t imagine why. He wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know what I’ll do.’

  She sat down on the edge of the bed, and took out a hankie.

  ‘Gwen, you’re crying. Oh, please don’t cry. I’m sure they’ll work something out. They’ll be all right. Really.’

  ‘What if they aren’t? What if she never goes back to him?’

  Rilla bit back her first thought, which was that she never realized Gwen was so devoted to Fiona, and murmured something soothing.

  ‘Oh God, Rilla, it’s so difficult to explain!’ said Gwen. ‘It’s not Fiona. It’s not even Efe. If he wants to risk his marriage with a whole string of sordid affairs, that’s his business, but it’s Douggie. I may never see him again, Rilla. I couldn’t bear that. Couldn’t bear it.’

  She started crying again. ‘I’m so sorry, Rilla, I didn’t mean to burden you like this, wailing like a banshee.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Gwen, you can burden me, as you put it, all you like, but I think you should stop crying. Your eyes will be red for the party and Mother’ll want to know why, and you’ll never hear the end of it. Besides, you will see Douggie. I’m sure Fiona won’t keep him away from you.’

  ‘She’s quite capable of it. I’ll become one of those absent grannies. Oh, God, Rilla, that awful McVie woman will have him for Christmases and birthdays and I’ll never see him.’

  ‘You don’t know that. Even if they were to divorce, Efe will get good visitation rights and you can make sure he brings Douggie here whenever he has him. Efe won’t want to look after Douggie on his own. He’ll need you. Really he will.’

  Gwen looked happier. ‘Yes, I suppose he might. Thank you for saying that. It makes me feel a bit better.’

  ‘And in any case,’ Rilla added, ‘you don’t know she’s gone for ever. She might just want to give Efe a bit of a shock. She might well be back.’

  ‘That’s true. I hadn’t thought of that.’ Gwen stood up. ‘I’m so glad I told you all this. Thanks so much for letting me witter on. I must go and do a repair job on my eyes.’

  ‘Take this,’ Rilla said, and pressed a tiny tub of concealer into her sister’s hand. ‘Dab a bit of this round your eyes just before you put your powder on. Magic stuff.’

  Gwen looked down at the make-up uncertainly. ‘I’ve never used this sort of thing before.’

  ‘You’ve not had anything to conceal up to now, I expect, but needs must,’ Rilla said. ‘Go on. Spoil yourself.’

  After Gwen left the room, Rilla thought how surprising everyone was. She’d never have guessed that her sister was so besotted with Douggie. Poor Gwen. For a while, she considered the chances of Fiona going back to Efe but then she thought, what the hell! Why should I worry with such things today? Time enough for discussing family troubles tomorrow. I’m going to a party, dammit. She turned her mind to the question of earrings. Dangly crystal drops or gobstopping Baroque pearls? That was the kind of problem she was willing to wrestle with.

  *

  Reuben Stronsky stopped the car just outside the gates of Willow Court and looked down the avenue of oaks to the house at the top of the drive. What a sensational view this is, he thought. If only the whole place was in the middle of London instead of here in the boondocks, then the possibility of turning the house into a decent museum would be a distinct possibility.

  He drove up and parked the BMW in the area to one side of the house that had been set aside for cars. A discreet board with an arrow painted on it showed him the way. He remembered the very first time he’d ever come to this house, as a visitor among others, years ago now. The pictures had hit him right between the eyes and he’d been haunted by them ever since.

  A young man was approaching the car.

  ‘Good morning, sir. We’ve been expecting you.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m
rather on the early side, I’m afraid. I’m going to walk about for a while and then it’s drinks on the terrace, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, sir. At about eleven, I believe.’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ Reuben said. The young man disappeared in the direction of the house. Reuben got out of the car and unlocked the trunk. It was called a boot over here, which made no sense to him at all. He put the parcel under a blanket and locked up the car. He wasn’t going to go up to the house clutching the present. It was important that Leonora received it without any distractions. He’d go and get it later on, when the party was over.

  Reuben began to walk towards the gardens, then paused. He took out his mobile phone from a pocket in his jacket and punched in Efe’s number.

  ‘Efe, is that you?’ he said after a few moments. ‘This is Reuben. I’m in your car park right now.’

  *

  ‘Can you remember whose birthday it is today, Miss Mussington?’

  ‘It isn’t my birthday, is it?’ Nanny Mouse frowned and tried to concentrate. She had eaten her breakfast and she was ready for the party. She knew that there would be a party but was it for one of the children? Efe, perhaps. No, that wasn’t it. The effort of thinking tired her and she said, ‘It’s slipped my mind for the moment, Miss Lardner. Please remind me.’

  ‘It’s Leonora’s birthday. She’s seventy-five today.’

  ‘What nonsense! Seventy-five! Why, she can’t be a day over forty.’

  Nanny Mouse stroked the fabric of her dress and smiled. ‘This dress is very pretty, isn’t it? I shall be the belle of the ball. That’s what I used to say to Leonora whenever she went out. I used to say, you’ll be the belle of the ball.’