The House of Vandekar (30 page)

‘He's lying to me, Lily,' Alice said. ‘I begged him to tell me if there was anything wrong, but he went on saying, “No, no, I've just got into the habit.” It's not true and I know there's something the matter! But I
couldn't
get it out of him.'

Lily watched her in silence. Alice was pacing up and down in her agitation, asking Lily questions without waiting for an answer. Lily hadn't seen her so upset for years. ‘It's not his work, is it?'

‘No.' Alice dismissed that immediately. ‘That's the first thing I thought of. I've asked Hugo in a roundabout way and he said how well Richard was doing. And he doesn't exactly praise him. If he's drinking like this, how long will that go on, I wonder? Oh God, Lily, I could smell the whisky on him when he came into the room this morning. He'd been drinking already!'

‘If he's not worrying about the bank, then there must be something else,' Lily said, trying to be tactful. She knew how fiercely protective Alice was about her son, and that protection extended to his wife. Lily liked Diana – she was such a gentle, charming girl, and always pleasant to Lily. Pleasant to everyone who worked at Ashton. But a bit too sweet, perhaps … Lily suspected perfect people; she knew human nature just wasn't like that.

Alice stopped walking up and down. She looked hard at Lily. ‘You think it's Diana?'

Lily retreated quickly. ‘I didn't say that, My Lady.'

‘But you think so? Stop beating around the damned bush and come out with it!'

‘What else can it be?' Lily countered. ‘Mister Richard's never kept anything from you in his life. He's never stood up to you either, except when he wanted to marry her. If they're not getting on, he won't say so to you. Why don't you talk to her?'

Alice said slowly, ‘Because he'd never forgive me. I said something about Diana facing the problem with us, and he started shouting and saying he'd cope with it without worrying her and I wasn't to think of dragging her into it. Then he broke down. He sat there and cried, Lily, and said, “What do you think I should do about it, Mother? Help me …” I thought I was going to die, seeing him in that state.'

She swung round out of Lily's sight, but not in time to hide the tears.

‘He's going to see a specialist,' Alice said after a pause. ‘He's promised to do whatever he suggests. And I've promised to keep it from his father.' She cleared her throat and turned round. She was composed again, but there was a set to her jaw that Lily recognized. Whatever or whoever it was, she was going to fight it for her son's sake.

‘If he and Diana are unhappy, I want to know,' she said. ‘Can you find out for me, Lily? When they come down and stay, can you keep an eye on things?'

Lily nodded. ‘I'll see what I can do,' she said. And then, as she had done so often over the years when Alice was in crisis, she added, ‘Don't worry about it. Leave it to me.'

Diana was so lonely. Richard was going to be away in the nursing home for three whole weeks. She couldn't go down to Ashton at weekends because they were supposed to be on holiday. And she couldn't think of an excuse when Alice invited little Nancy and her nanny to stay with them while her parents were away. Diana was alone in the smart London flat.

Their friends were told a different story. Richard was travelling to America on business. Diana couldn't go with him because he had so much work to do. She was kept busy, with invitations to lunch and cocktail parties, a long weekend shooting in Norfolk.

She was still lonely without Richard, and sneaking into bed with one of the houseguests during the Norfolk stay didn't stop her missing him. She spent most afternoons at Knightsbridge, but sometimes John made an excuse not to see her. There was more and more sexual byplay needed to arouse him and her own needs were often left unsatisfied. She wasn't allowed to see Richard. He had to take the cure and cope with it on his own. Not even a telephone call. And always the worry that someone would mention seeing her and her father-in-law would wonder why they weren't abroad as he'd been told. Lies surrounded her – she lived with lies and the fear of being found out. And she lived with guilt: Richard was in that dreadful place in Hampstead because of her. She knew it, but it didn't stop her ringing up John and begging him to come round. It hadn't stopped her seducing a man in Norfolk and agreeing to see him secretly in London. The more guilty and tormented she felt, the more the ravening sexual need began to dominate her.

Richard was due home in three days. She had a spare afternoon and decided to go to the cinema. She became engrossed in the film. Then a man sat beside her and after a while she felt his hand touching her leg. She let him stimulate her, and she orgasmed. She couldn't help herself. And when he followed her out of the cinema she took him home. He couldn't do anything without the cover of darkness and furtiveness. She had to give him money before he would go.

Then she was afraid. He had been shabby, rather unclean. He knew where she lived. He might come back. Richard might be there. She shivered and burst into a fit of frantic weeping. What had she done? How low had she sunk to pick up a creature like that, let him fondle her, excite her, and then, in utter madness, bring him back into her own empty flat? He could have robbed her, murdered her even. There was nobody to turn to, no one to confide in. Her parents had long settled in South Africa, not that she could have told them. She was alone with a problem that had shown it was getting dangerously out of control. Frightened and isolated. When Richard came back he would be cured. No more drinking. No more miserable scenes when he accused and she denied. He loved her. She loved him. Her tears flowed in self-pity and self-hate. But love wasn't enough. She crouched on her big bed, hunched like an animal at bay before the truth of what her life was going to be. Richard wouldn't be enough. No man would be. She was doomed to deceive the person she loved best in the whole world. For a moment Diana was tempted to do something positive. To empty the medicine cupboard of every aspirin and sleeping pill, and just lie down and die.

It was such a strong impulse that she got up. Her hand was turning the handle of the bathroom door when the telephone rang. She stopped, shocked into reality by the sound. She let it ring. Then she turned with a cry of relief and ran to pick it up.

‘Diana darling.' It was one of her best girlfriends. June Fitzroy, now happily married and living in the New Forest. ‘Diana, how are you? It's ages since I've seen you …'

. Diana answered, her voice a little thick but bright and enthusiastic. Yes, she was all alone. Dick was in New York. Oh, how lovely, she'd adore to come down and spend a couple of days until he came home. No, she had nothing arranged at all. She could drive down that evening if June could bear it. London was terribly dreary at the moment …

She packed as quickly as she could. How nice it would be to see June again. Her husband too. He was sweet. How wonderful to get out of the flat, out of the room, with its memories of that horrible, sordid man demanding money from her while he buttoned his trousers. She had so nearly done something terrible – lost her head completely. She was trembling as she packed. Still trembling when she ran out of the flat, looking round in case the man was lurking somewhere. Then she was in the car, driving to her friends and safety.

The pretty house on the edge of the forest was a beacon of light and hope. A warm welcome, kisses and embraces, a drink and a hot bath, June and her nice husband fussing over her. Poor sweet, fancy staying in London in that big flat all on her own … She should have rung up and asked herself down before. Life was sweet again. She had just panicked. In the cosy bedroom, lulled by friendship, Diana wondered how she could have been so hysterical. The cinema was a mistake. She wouldn't do that again. For all these years she'd coped with her particular temperament and managed to be quite happy. It was temperament again, not a problem. She fell asleep, looking forward to the next two days. And to Richard coming home.

6

‘He'll have to divorce her,' Alice said.

She and Hugo had driven round the park. It was a beautiful spring afternoon. The eighteenth-century temple had stood at the far end of the lake for four years now, its copper dome shining green in the sunshine. It seemed as long as a lifetime to Alice since she had walked there with her son-in-law Brian and asked his advice on how it would look. A lifetime of hope and despair as she watched her son deteriorate. The rumours about her daughter-in-law Diana were not even whispered any more. Sooner or later the scandal had to break, and that moment had come. She was being named as co-respondent in a divorce.

Richard wasn't working for the family bank any more. That had been impossible for the last two years. His constant relapses into alcoholism made him unemployable. He went in and out of homes. He went to Zürich for a three-month cure and was drunk again before the New Year. But nothing else had changed. He was married, and he insisted that he was happy and he loved his wife. He was a drunk, and poor Diana had to suffer.

Hugo looked at her. ‘He can't do that,' he said.

Alice turned the wheel. They moved close to the grass verge and she stopped the car. ‘I don't believe it,' she said. ‘I don't believe you could still say that. After what she's done to him?'

‘He's done it to himself,' he answered. ‘He's a hopeless drunk, and you won't admit it. No wonder she's had affairs. I don't blame her.'

‘Affairs!' Alice exploded. ‘She slept with anyone and anything, including her best friend's husband. June Hubbard is divorcing him – it's been going on for God knows how long! Lily says she heard gossip about her from the nanny when Nancy was a baby. She used to go out at night and not come home until all hours!'

‘You may listen to servants,' he retorted, ‘I don't. They can't get divorced. If your son is an alcoholic, that's not my fault. This business with Hubbard will cause a fuss and the bloody press will make a meal of it, but so long as Richard does nothing, it'll die down. And I'll survive. But not if there's a follow-on. No divorce, Alice. I'm not wrecking my political career on account of Richard. So don't encourage him. The consequences could be very serious.'

‘What do you mean? How can you stop him?' she demanded. ‘Why should he have his life ruined because of you? If he gets rid of her, he'll stop drinking. I know he will!'

‘Maybe, but he won't inherit this house or a single penny from me. If you think it's worth losing all that, then go ahead.'

Alice said slowly, ‘I never thought you could be such a bastard, Hugo. I never thought you'd threaten your own son. And what about Nancy?'

He didn't look at her. He stared ahead as he said it. ‘With a mother like that, she's probably not even his child. And he's your son, Alice. Not mine. There's nothing in him I recognize.'

He saw the beautiful hands with the heavy diamond ring clench like a vice on the steering wheel, and he waited. But she said nothing. She never would, he thought. She'll die with that question unanswered. But her silence is an answer. We both know that.

‘I shall leave everything to Fern,' he announced. ‘With a life interest to you, my dear, of course. But nothing to Richard, if he loses me a Cabinet job. So you can explain that to him, if you like. If you do nothing, my guess is, he'll do nothing. He'll stay soaked in drink and she'll behave herself. For a time anyway. Now, don't you think we should go home? We've talked over our problems, which was why you suggested driving round, and we've seen the park. I've got some letters to dictate.'

Alice switched on the engine. She swung the car round into reverse and started back up the long road round the lake towards the house. ‘I shall never forgive you' was all she said.

‘I'm sorry to hear that, Alice. I feel we've had to forgive each other rather a lot.' He went into his private office and closed the door.

Alice went upstairs. ‘Lily! Lily! Where the hell are you?'

‘I'm here, there's no need to shout.' She came hurrying along the corridor.

Alice went into her room and Lily followed.

‘He won't hear of it,' Alice said. ‘I could kill him, Lily. I really could.'

‘You'd better have a cup of tea. You're all upset.'

‘How could he threaten to cut Richard off? How could he put his bloody political career in front of his own son's life?' She swung round, her face working with pain and anger. ‘He'll die, Lily. He's got liver damage – he blacks out. He's only twenty-nine! And I'm supposed to sit and watch it happen. Well, I won't. I'll get rid of her. I'll
make
her leave him! Never mind the tea. Ring down and order the car for me. And tell Mrs Fry I won't be here to lunch, or probably dinner. I'm going to London. I'm going to see Diana.'

‘It won't do any good, My Lady.' Lily said quietly. ‘She'll never go. Everyone knows what she is. She wouldn't have a friend or a door open to her if she left this family, and I reckon she knows it. Go up and try if you like, but don't pin your hopes on it.'

‘Stop crying,' Alice said. ‘For God's sake stop it, it's not doing any good.'

It was all going wrong. She had met Diana in London at their flat, flint-hearted and determined to get rid of her and save her son. Prepared to bully, to bribe, to threaten. But it ended with her helplessly enmeshed in pity and horror. It was an unfair contest. Alice knew Diana was no match for her. Her love for Richard dismissed any scruple about that. But it wasn't in her nature to trample the defeated. And there was utter defeat and despair in the weeping girl.

‘Don't lie to me,' Alice had flared at her when she pretended her innocence. ‘One affair, my foot! You've been cheating on Richard since Nancy was a baby. You've made him an alcoholic, you've destroyed him. And you're not going to go on doing it. You've had your chance. Now you're going to get out and stay out of his life!'