A Friend of the Family (16 page)

‘Well, he'll certainly have been keeping George at bay,' observed Tim with somewhat callous optimism. ‘We'll telephone as soon as we get in. At least he's been looked after. If only I hadn't sent Mrs Gilchrist off he'd have probably stayed at Broadhayes. Never mind. All over now. Gosh! It's wonderful to be back.'

 

Sixteen

 

FELICITY WAS TOO DEEPLY
immersed in her happiness to feel any anxiety when Tim telephoned from America to find out if David was with her. Even when she took the call to say that they were back at Broadhayes and David could return she was unmoved. It didn't occur to her that anything could happen that might shake this new wonderful love that had come when she was in such great need of it. Since George's betrayal she had been living in a different world where pain and loneliness had kept an unceasing vigil over her life. She had fought and struggled, jealous and frightened by turns, terrified to look into the future, miserable when she looked into the past. Suddenly, between one moment and the next, David had arrived and it was as if the whole desperate business had been swept away. Resentment, hatred, fear, all had gone as if they had never existed and in their places had come love, happiness, peace. She had been raised from the dark places and they were only distant shadows to her now.

When Kate telephoned and asked her to lunch Felicity refused. She simply couldn't bear to be away from David. Kate belonged to another existence, that other life of dark places, and she had no desire to return to it, even briefly. She had forgotten that Kate might be lonely or have needs and even if she had remembered it would have made no difference. David filled her whole vision and she could spare nothing from him. Summer was beginning to die down into autumn and Felicity longed to show David the glory of the moor when the colours turn to fire and the hills are purple with heather. She wanted to stand with him above Holne at night when the mist, soft and white
like milk, lies in the valleys and coombes and the harvest moon rises slowly above the earth, huge and mysterious, bathing the silent moor in its unearthly glow. She wanted to share with him the sight of the rowan berries, brilliant against an early-morning sky, whilst one's breath hangs like steam in the chill air.

Even her house had never seemed so much like a home. Things, possessions, had a different meaning now that the beloved saw them, used them, lived amongst them. Cooking became an art rather than a chore, Felicity forgot to count her calories, and food and drink became yet another gift which she could bestow. Never had she known life so simple and so happy. She hadn't experienced a temperament which lived almost completely for the present and it bewitched her. She saw that David was contented, fulfilled, optimistic and imagined that she was seeing the whole picture.

David knew that this was an interlude, a gift from the gods, and accepted it as such, unquestioning and with no thought for the future. He worked and loved and it was good and he assumed that Felicity was accepting it in the same spirit. It would never have occurred to him that someone of Felicity's age and experience could imagine that life could continue at this magical level. He was merely grateful that such a lull in the hurly-burly of life should be granted to him and enjoyed it as one enjoys the warmth of an Indian summer, the pleasure heightened by the knowledge that winter is not far away.

It was only when David began to talk of his return to Broadhayes that the first breath ruffled her calm sea and gently rocked the boat of her idyllic happiness. Even then she looked upon it as a temporary separation. Naturally he must go and see his friends. Obviously he had his work to do and his house in London to attend to. She hadn't even got so far as to think about how they would live, although she had already decided that to spend some time in London would be fun. Her absolute confidence in their relationship blinded her to all sorts of small signs and when David realised this he was horrified. His work was completed so far as he could go in this setting and he wanted to get back to his studio. His sight was beginning to clear, the midsummer
night's dream was over, the magic was fading. When he saw what it meant to Felicity he felt uneasy. He remembered how she had pursued George, had been prepared to stop at nothing to win him back, and his unease bordered on fear. He was very fond of her and was deeply grateful to her. She was part of the miracle, without her it couldn't have happened, but he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her. When Miranda's mother died he had been ashamed at the degree of relief that was mixed into his grief. He felt light and free and he had no intention of going back into bondage. He told himself that Felicity would get over it once he was gone but his heart was heavy and he was quite incapable of telling her the truth. He told her that he simply had to get back to London, that he'd already been away much longer than he'd intended, that he would be in touch. So confident was she that none of this disturbed her and when he drove away he felt like a murderer.

 

MAGGIE TABB CLEANED THE
kitchen sink industriously, one eye cocked to the window. Outside, Thea and a man whom Maggie had never seen before walked up and down. Thea was gesticulating and talking furiously whilst the man, his head bent to hers, laughed and nodded. Jessie ambled at their heels, pausing for a moment to sit down and scratch at one of her floppy ears. Maggie had noticed the strange car, parked inside the five-bar gate, as soon as she arrived and her curiosity was rife. She stationed herself at the sink where she could observe the nature of their parting.

' 'N' 'oo c'n 'ee be?' she asked of Percy, as she polished away at the taps. ‘I never sin ‘im befower.' She sidled over to his cage, one eye on the door. ‘C'm'on,' she wheedled. ‘Jes' fer Maggie. Say “Normin's a silly ol fewel.” Go on. ‘Ave a go!'

Percy regarded her solemnly and remained silent. She straightened up and shrugged. ‘Misrubble ol' bag o'fevvers,' she said. ‘Won' even try, will y er?' She heard an engine start up and, moving quickly to the window, saw Thea waving the car out into the lane. ‘Now!' she exclaimed, vexed. ‘I didden see if ‘e kissed ‘er. ‘Tis all yer fault.'

‘Mademoiselle from Armenteers, hasn't been kissed for forty years,' shrieked Percy. ‘Hinky, pinky, parley-voo.'

‘What's the matter with Percy this morning?' asked Thea, appearing in the kitchen and beginning to root in the dresser drawer. ‘He's been chattering away all morning. He seems to be in a state of high nervous tension.' Various items fell to the floor and she bent to retrieve them. ‘Honestly, the things one keeps! We'll have to have a good turnout, Maggie.'

‘ 'E'd be fair worked up,' agreed Maggie. ‘P'raps ‘tis ‘avin' strangers in the ‘ouse.' She paused invitingly but Thea refused the bait. ‘If ‘ee tells us wot yewer lookin' fower, us cud ‘elp, p'raps.'

‘Actually, I'm looking for the Sellotape. Oh, I know. I think I saw it in the study.' Thea had no intention of telling Maggie who Marcus Willby was or that he had called in on his way down to Cornwall in order to discuss the progress of her work. She shut the drawer and made for the study.

‘Kettle's boilin',' Maggie bawled after her, disgruntled that her ploy had failed. What was she doing upstairs in her little room? And who was the stranger with whom Thea was so friendly? ‘Wan' a cup o' coffee? I'll bring ‘n up, eh?'

‘Don't worry.' Thea reappeared with the Sellotape. ‘I'll make us both one. Then you can get on in the sitting room.'

‘Ah, I cud do wiv a cuppa.' Maggie sighed deeply and relinquished her quest for information about Thea's affairs. ‘Feelin' right misrubble, I be.'

‘Maggie!' Thea, preparing mugs, sounded surprised. She felt guilty that she hadn't taken Maggie into her confidence about the book but she wanted to wait until everything was cut and dried. George had been delighted by her news and was quite ridiculously proud of her achievement and it had been immensely difficult to prevent him from immediately telephoning all their friends to share in the good tidings. She insisted on absolute secrecy until it was certain and once Maggie knew so would everyone else in the surrounding countryside. Since it had been Maggie's idea that stories should go
with the pictures that she had drawn for Wayne, Thea had decided to buy her a present as soon as her advance came. ‘I thought all was well between you and Norman now.' She poured in milk, stirred and set the mugs on the table. ‘Come and have your coffee and tell me what's been going on. You said he was overcome with remorse and wanted to come home.'

‘Yeah,'e wus. Didden know owter get ‘isself back, see. ‘E phoned up in a turrible takin', cryin' ‘n' carryin' on ‘e wus. Silly fewel.'

‘And what did you do?' Thea stirred in sugar.

‘Went ‘n' fetched ‘e,' said Maggie promptly. ‘Banged on the de wer ‘n' shouted fer ‘e ter get ‘isself out or I'd go ‘n' get ‘is mum ter see wot a dick'ead ‘e wus bein'!'

‘His mum?' Thea was riveted by this recital.

‘Big wumman,'is mum,' said Maggie, reminiscently. ‘Scared to deff uv ‘er, Normin is. Came bol tin' out like a rabbit.'

‘So what's the problem now?'

' 'Tes still thet ole surfboard chin. Frien' o' mine saw ‘em togevver t'other day. ‘Course,'e denied it all. Never seen ‘er, never bin near the place. I give ‘im a s wipe roun' the lug'ole wiv the lid off of ‘is san'wich tin. Got reel upset,'e did. ‘N' ower Wayne come in ‘n' Normin,'e shif' out quick down the boozer.' She took a great gulp of coffee. ‘Shitface,' she said moodily. ‘Alius sneaks off,'e do. Never ‘as it out wiv me.'

‘I suppose it's possible,' surmised Thea, to whom these revelations were no longer a shock, ‘that your friend could have been mistaken.'

They both paused to listen as a car pulled up outside and a door slammed. Thea stood up to look from the kitchen window. ‘It's the vicar,' she exclaimed. ‘Apparently he knows my father. He said he'd drop by for a chat.' She went out to greet him.

Maggie swallowed her coffee hurriedly. ‘I doan' like ‘im,' she confided to Percy as she set her mug on the draining board.' ‘E d'go on about me ‘n' Normin summink awful.'

But Percy was whistling ‘Lead kindly light, amidst the encircling gloom' quietly to himself from the floor of his cage and didn't seem to hear her.

 

Seventeen

 

DAVID STAYED AT BROADHAYES
for over a week after he'd left Felicity. Because she thought that he was going straight back to London she had never asked the name of his friend near Moreton-hampstead and he felt that it gave him a breathing space. He was delighted to see Tim and Miranda getting on so well and was interested to see that they both had separate bedrooms. Since Mrs Gilchrist had returned immediately after their return from America, David couldn't decide whether this arrangement was intended to observe the proprieties or was due to Miranda's rather stringent views on sex before marriage. Whatever it was, they both seemed very happy about it and by the time Miranda and David returned to London, Tim had asked and received David's blessing on their union. If David had doubts he kept them to himself. It was possible that their marriage would not be exposed to the strains beneath which his own had bent and buckled and it was no good being pessimistic. He was rather more concerned with his own behaviour towards Felicity and on his last evening, when Miranda had gone up to have a bath, he bared his soul to Tim.

‘I feel as if I really used her,' he said as he and Tim sat in the library nursing their after-dinner brandies. ‘I simply got carried away, d'you see? It was just one of those moments that come so rarely. Everything was absolutely right.'

‘Perhaps she felt the same.'

‘No.' David shook his head. ‘I thought so, too, at the beginning. By the time I realised that she was taking it seriously it was much too late.
She's sitting there waiting for me to telephone and I feel an Al swine.'

‘Perhaps you should view it all in the light of her past behaviour,' ventured Tim.' She deceived her husband for years and tried to break up Thea's marriage. Perhaps she deserves a little comeuppance.'

‘Perhaps she does.' David shrugged. ‘So do we all, I imagine, one way or another. I'd just prefer not to be the person administering it. Mine has not been such a blameless life that I feel qualified to judge. A little dalliance to take her mind off George was one thing. Leading her up the garden path, abusing her hospitality and then walking out on her is quite another.'

‘Oh, dear.' Tim looked at David anxiously. ‘This has really upset you, hasn't it? I'm sorry, David. It's all my fault. I dreamed up the whole thing and then left you to it. I'm really sorry.'

‘It's never been my way, d'you see? I always like to let the ladies think they've cast me out rather than the other way about. That way you keep them as friends.' He grimaced. ‘Not that I want you to think 1 make a habit of it.'

‘Of course not.' Tim felt a great surge of affection for David and cast about for some way out of the dilemma. ‘Perhaps you could remain friends with Felicity.'

‘I think not, dear boy. Felicity would want a great deal more than that.' He shook his head. ‘I don't know what to do about it so doubtless I shall take the coward's way out and do nothing.'

‘Does she know your address in London?'

David frowned a little and then shrugged. ‘I don't remember giving her the actual address. She knows it's Chelsea. She's certainly got the telephone number. I had to give her that. But she was just so sure that I was coming back that she didn't really press for my address.' He swallowed his brandv. ‘Christ, I feel a shit!'

Tim reached for the decanter and refilled David's glass.

‘I don't know what to say. If it's any comfort, it certainly took her mind off George. When Thea telephoned to tell us all about her book she said that they were both terribly happy and that they've decided
to start a family. Although that was in confidence, of course. She sounded over the moon. I only wish my grandmother could have heard her. She was really worried, you know, and she wasn't at all the sort of person to panic unnecessarily.'

‘Oh, well. That's something at least.' David tried to look more cheerful. ‘Let's hope I've got it wrong and Felicity won't be as upset as I fear. We'll have to see how it goes. I'd be delighted to think that we could be friends but I just don't think she sees it like that. Never mind. No good going over and over it. Let's dwell on more cheerful things. So when's the wedding going to be?'

 

THEA, DRIVING OVER TO
have lunch with Harriet and Polly, felt that her cup was full to overflowing. Life seemed to be getting better and better. There was no shadow now on her marriage, George was completely her own, so excited about her work, and even Felicity had looked so young and happy when they'd met that Thea didn't have to feel that she was taking her own happiness at someone else's expense. Then there was all the excitement about the book, the trip to London to the publishers and the plans for a second book and, as if to gild the lily, there was this latest joy. Thea knew without any doubt at all that she was pregnant. It might be only by a matter of weeks but she knew it absolutely. She felt so happy that it was frightening. Why she should have been chosen to have all these blessings whilst there was so much sorrow and misery and violence was beyond her. She rocketed between bliss and terror. Supposing something happened to George or to herself before all these wonders could be fulfilled? She tried to cast such negative thoughts from her and dwell on her joy. Her one sadness was that Hermione had not lived to see these wonderful events. Her faith, however, assured her that Hermione knew of them and was with her in spirit, encouraging her and supporting her, which to Thea was an infinitely comforting thought.

When she arrived, Harriet was upstairs dealing with Hugh and Polly let Thea in. Ozzy, the puppy, bounded to greet her whilst Max
paced slowly behind him looking upon Ozzy's high spirits with benevolent tolerance. He'd been young once and he didn't grudge Ozzy his hour in the sun.

‘You're so much bigger than Jessie,' Thea told him as she fended him off and held out a hand to Max. ‘You make her look so small.' She followed them all into the kitchen.

‘You look wonderful,' said Polly enviously. ‘Positively glowing. So what's new?'

‘Nothing,' said Thea, hugging her latest secret to herself. ‘What about you?'

‘I'm so thrilled I can hardly breathe,' said Polly solemnly. ‘Paul thinks he's discovered a new species of
Siphlonuridae.
My dear, imagine how world-shattering. He's examined its wing veins and its genitalia and he's certain that it's a find. I've been praying and fasting. Not a morsel of food has passed my lips since the great discovery. My life can never be the same again.'

‘Take no notice of her.' Harriet arrived in the kitchen and grinned at Thea. ‘It must be very exciting for Paul.'

‘Well, of course, dear Fiona found it,' said Polly. ‘Naturally. So Paul's going to name it after her. That's how it's done. Well, it's only right. It looks just like her!'

‘Poor Polly.' Harriet went to organise the lunch. ‘It must be exhausting, living in the rarefied air of scientific discovery.'

‘Percy the Parrot's much more my line,' agreed Polly. ‘Great stuff! You'll be able to read it to Huge, Harriet, when he's older.'

‘I wish you wouldn't call him that,' said Harriet, piling food on to the table. ‘You are his godmother, after all.'

‘Can't resist it,' said Polly, breaking off a corner of cheese. ‘He's so small. Anyway, I shall buy him Percy the Parrot books when he's older. At least Thea won't have to worry about what to read to her children, if she has any.'

There was a silence of such an unusual quality that Harriet turned from her soup-stirring. Both of them looked at Thea.

‘You're pregnant,' cried Harriet.

Thea stared back at them, her cheeks turning scarlet and her eyes glowing like stars.

‘You are!' cried Harriet. ‘Oh, Thea! How wonderful!'

She dropped the soup spoon and fled round the table to hug Thea, who hugged her back, still quite unable to speak for fear that she might cry.

‘Jesus wept!' said Polly morosely. ‘That's all I needed. Don't say I've got to fork out for another bloody rattle!'

 

WHEN DAVID ARRIVED BACK
in London there were no fewer than six messages from Felicity on his answering machine. It was Miranda who had persuaded him to use this device, which protected him from time-wasters when he was working, and he soon came to rely on it. He tended to sift through the calls at the end of each day, returning some and not others. Miranda was quite ruthless, helping him to decide on the borderline cases, and he was usually happy to give in to her. He hated using the telephone. On this occasion, however, it was he who got to the machine first, listened to the messages and quickly wiped the tape. He did not want to explain in detail to Miranda just how close he and Felicity had become. He and Tim had tacitly allowed her to believe that he had been nothing more than a guest and David knew she would be horrified to know how very intimate the relationship had become. He felt hot with shame as he listened to Felicity's voice becoming more and more anxious as the messages proceeded although, even then, his main feeling was one of relief that he was ex-directory and he thought it was unlikely that she would turn up on the doorstep. He decided that he must write to her, without using his address, and explain. His heart sank at the thought.

Miranda telephoned Tim to tell him of their safe arrival and, when she had finished and was preparing some supper, David turned the machine back on. Even as he did so he wondered what on earth he would do if Felicity were to telephone and Miranda should answer.
His question was answered the next morning. Miranda had contacted her temping agency to advise them that she was back and prepared to work for a week or so before she returned to Devon. When the telephone rang she answered it, hoping that it was an offer of work. She could hardly believe that David had been stupid enough to give Felicity his number and, being Miranda, decided that the thing should be nipped in the bud immediately. She said stiffly that Mr Porteous was working and on no account could be disturbed. Felicity, imagining her to be a housekeeper or secretary, asked if she would give him a message and grudgingly Miranda agreed. The nature of the message was perfectly discreet but implied a degree of relationship which caused Miranda to furrow her brow. There was something going on here and she intended to find out what it was.

 

AFTER DAVID'S DEPARTURE, SEVERAL
days passed before Felicity began to feel uneasy. To begin with she embarked on an orgy of cleaning. During his stay she had somewhat neglected this aspect of life and now she cleaned the whole house from top to bottom. In some ways it was a psychological cleansing. She felt that all her old life was being swept away and she was preparing for a new beginning. By the end of the second day everything positively gleamed and sparkled and Felicity had the beginning of one of her heads. She longed for a drink but knew that alcohol would make it far worse and contented herself with a cup of coffee. She sat in a large comfortable armchair, listening to a concert and thinking about David. Or rather she continued to think about him but in a more conscious way, for he was never out of her thoughts. Despite her physical exhaustion, she felt relaxed, loose, easy, and a deep contentment filled her. She rolled her head against the cushions, stretching out her legs and laughing a little at herself, glad that no one could see her in this state. Love, the genuine, knocked-sideways, authentic emotion, had come very late. It was as though some dammed-up spring had burst and was watering and nourishing all the parched, dried-up areas of her life. Emotions
flowered and happiness blossomed and she felt weak and gentle and vulnerable for the first time in her life. There was no self-interest in her love. All her care was for David, his well-being, his happiness.

After forty-eight hours she began to wonder a little that he hadn't telephoned but as much because she was concerned for his safety as for any other reason. At last this anxiety began to take hold and Felicity started to worry. She had been trained in a hard school, used to being unable to hear from Mark—or George—for weeks at a time, never having known the luxury of having either of them at the end of a telephone. You didn't whine and complain, you just got on with it. This, however, was a whole new experience and she didn't yet know the rules. Added to which there was David's career and temperament to take into consideration. She had seen him at work, absorbed, forgetful of everything around him, and she wondered if this might have happened. He had told her that he'd been away far longer than he ought to have been and she didn't want to start off by seeming to be a nagger. Nevertheless, by the end of the third day, she threw caution to the wind and telephoned the London number, unaware that David was still at Broadhayes. Hearing his voice shocked her into stillness for a few seconds before her heart began to bump. She burst into speech and then realised, as David's voice continued, that she was connected to an answering machine. She stopped speaking abruptly, feeling quite unnecessarily foolish and, at the same time, overwhelmed with disappointment. She slammed the receiver down and then wondered if she should have left a message.