Facing the Light (61 page)

She hadn't wanted to give one, but Efe and Gwen and James said that everyone would be expecting her to.

‘I detest speaking in public,' Leonora had murmured while they were still having drinks on the terrace.

‘These people are your friends,' Reuben Stronsky said. ‘You don't have to say anything fancy.'

‘Well, I'd always intended to say thank you to everyone for coming of course, but a proper speech, that's a different matter.'

‘I thought you wanted to tell everyone about Maude Walsh,' Efe said.

And so now here she was, having undertaken to speak. For the moment, though, she let herself enjoy the chocolate mousse cake. How clever of Bridget to serve it with these heavenly strawberries and raspberries! A perfect dessert, Leonora thought, and let it melt in her mouth. Then she looked around the table at her family.

As it turned out, Fiona's absence was fortuitous. It meant that Reuben could sit with them. He had been quite a surprise to Leonora, though she'd tried to hide it when she met him.
American Millionaire
made her think of someone fat and red-faced in a big hat and he was the exact opposite, thin and tall and quiet, with a shock of white hair. His eyes were very dark and his manners were impeccable. He'd even brought her a gift, which was more than kind of him.

‘I'll wait till later to give it to you, if you don't mind,' he'd told her, and she was immediately curious and intrigued. Why could it not join the other presents under the tree and be opened along with them?

Nanny Mouse was enjoying herself. Miss Lardner sat next to her, making sure that she ate a little, but for the most part, the old lady just looked about her with the air of a child at the circus, her eyes wide with wonder. Sean was on her other side and talked to her all the time, which was angelic of him. He may have been trying to impress Rilla but Leonora knew that he genuinely liked Nanny.

Miss Lardner had handed over Nanny Mouse's present with a somewhat apologetic air, but Leonora was touched by the hand-embroidered cross-stitch bookmark.

‘Miss Mussington's eyesight isn't what it used to be,' Miss Lardner explained, ‘but she insisted on making it for you, Mrs Simmonds.'

‘I love it,' Leonora had said quite truthfully. ‘I'll make sure to thank her later.'

‘Mother!' said Gwen, breaking into her thoughts. ‘They're bringing the birthday cake in. Look!'

All the guests were craning to see the cake, which was being taken round the marquee on a sort of lap of honour. Leonora had vetoed candles absolutely. She had no intention of being seen puffing out air in public. The huge tray progressed round the marquee, and spontaneous applause broke out as everyone realized that the icing was a perfect reproduction of one of the paintings from the Walsh Collection: the portrait of Leonora as a young girl, sitting on the edge of a bed, wearing a lilac dress.

‘How marvellous!'

‘Too clever for words!'

‘What a wonderful idea!'

Everyone started talking at once, so that James had to stand up and call for silence.

‘Thank you, everyone. I'm sorry to have to stop the talk but it's time for the cutting of the cake. Beautiful as it is. And I am going to call on Leonora to say a few words but before we do all that, let's sing to a great lady. Happy Birthday, Leonora.'

‘Happy Birthday' had always been one of Leonora's least favourite songs, but she smiled graciously while the assembled company tried, without much success, to fit ‘dear' plus her name into the notes provided by the music. As soon as it was over, she stood up and raised her hand to bring the renewed applause to an end.

‘You're very kind,' she said. ‘I'm so pleased that you've all come to help me celebrate. And I thank you for your wonderful gifts. So generous and thoughtful. I will have a splendid time opening them this evening.'

Leonora looked out over the tables. These are friends of yours, she said to herself. Nothing to be afraid of. She took a deep breath and began. ‘I'm not going to make a long speech. I know how much you're all longing to eat this most beautiful cake. It's such a wonderful surprise,
and I really wasn't expecting it, so thank you to my family for arranging it. I hope someone has thought to photograph it before it vanishes – thank you, darling Alex, I knew I could rely on you – and the first thing I must do is thank Bridget for a perfect meal and Jane for the glorious flowers.'

Cries of ‘hear hear' rose from every corner of the marquee and Bridget bent her head in acknowledgement.

‘I have also to thank my daughter Gwendolen and James, her husband, as well as the rest of my family, but there is something in particular I wanted to tell you.' She hesitated for a moment and then went on, ‘You all know the paintings of Ethan Walsh, my father. You've all been tremendously helpful and kind to me while I've been in charge of Willow Court and so I feel I must tell you the truth. It'll be public knowledge soon enough because there's going to be a television programme about the pictures, directed by Sean Everard, who's here today. Some of you will have met him before lunch, I'm sure.'

Leonora took a deep breath and went on. ‘The truth is this. It wasn't my father, Ethan Walsh, who painted the pictures hanging in the house, but my mother, Maude. I can't go into detail now, because it would take too long, but briefly, my father deceived the whole world and drove my mother to take her own life. I found this out by accident. A very happy accident. I'm now just beginning to get over the shock but I can tell you that Maude Walsh will have her fame restored to her, thanks to Reuben Stronsky, who's here today.'

Reuben half rose to his feet and smiled at everyone and sat down again.

‘Mr Stronsky will make sure that the pictures are properly displayed for future generations in a purpose-built gallery, and I'm very grateful to him for helping me in the work that will occupy me for the rest of my life, that of ensuring that my mother's work is seen and her
story told. Thank you very much for listening to me, and for making this party so special. Thank you.'

Leonora became aware of the applause, and of Gwen putting a knife into her hand.

‘You must cut the cake, Mother,' she whispered, and Leonora bent forward to make the first stroke. She also made a wish, just as she used to do when she was a girl. Please, let everyone be happy, she thought, and then instantly chided herself for being stupid. Everyone couldn't possibly be happy. She amended it slightly in her head: please let everyone be as happy as they can be, whenever they can. That was better.

The singing broke out again as Bridget and two helpers came to remove the cake so that it could be cut into more than seventy pieces. The tune this time was ‘For She's a Jolly Good Fellow', which was better than ‘Happy Birthday', but not much.

‘What a very inadequate song,' said Reuben, leaning in to whisper in her ear. ‘You deserve something more dignified, Mrs Simmonds. Something grander.'

‘Please call me Leonora,' said Leonora. Reuben Stronsky, she decided, was a real gentleman.

*

Beth walked round to the Peter Rabbit garden to get away from the party. Alex was photographing the revellers down by the lake, and in the gazebo. Many people had left already but there were still enough to make it worth his while. The lunch had been perfect in every detail, and she could see Gwen relaxing as one delicious course after another had come and gone. The Persian omelette provided for the vegetarians was heavenly, and as for the mozzarella and basil fritters, they were quite the tastiest thing she'd ever eaten.

Everyone, at every table, seemed to be having a marvellous time. Melanie, she noticed, was drinking rather heavily and flashing her cleavage at anyone who
would look, and that seemed to be most of the men she went near. At one point before lunch, Beth had seen Efe with his hand on Melanie's – could you call it her lower back? Or her bum? – again. He couldn't keep his hands under control even in public.

She walked up the path towards the shed. All at once, it seemed to her exactly the right place to go to get away from the party for a while. She went up to the door and was just about to open it when she heard a noise from inside. Not voices, but something. She didn't need to listen for more than a moment or two to realize what was going on. Some couple or other were having a quickie. It could have been anyone but a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach warned her that it might be Efe and Melanie. I have to check, she thought. No, I don't. I could easily walk away and leave them to it. What do I care? It's none of my business. She hesitated and then glanced in at the small, rather dusty window.

She couldn't see very well, but there was a pale flash of legs moving and Melanie's black hair was spread out over the work table in the corner. There were grunts and moans and Melanie's ringing voice giving the game away.

‘Oh, Efe, Efe, yes … yess.'

Beth ran away down the path between the lettuces and carrots towards the house, trying to put what she'd just seen out of her mind. Poor Fiona, she thought. He really doesn't give a shit about her. Efe looks after his own desires, she said to herself, and that's that. She was happy to notice that thinking about Efe didn't cause her any pain at all. She loved him, of course she did, but every element of desire had gone. What remained was concern and affection and family loyalty. What astonished her now was the strength of her feelings towards Alex. How could she have been so blind for so long?

*

‘You were a star,' Rilla said to Sean. ‘Looking after Nanny Mouse all day long. A real treasure.'

They were sitting in the alcove, smoking. Even after such a short time, Rilla felt sentimental about this part of the house. This, she thought, is where we first spoke properly to one another. This was where it started.

‘You can drop fag ends among the roses today,' Sean said. ‘Leonora's talking to Reuben Stronsky and she's had such a busy day she'll never notice.'

‘Oh, yes she will. You don't know my mother. But it was a lovely party, wasn't it? I thought that chocolate mousse cake was the best thing of all. I wonder if Bridget would give me the recipe. And Gwen looks much more relaxed now that the party's over.'

‘There's still lots to be done on the film,' Sean said. ‘I'm going to have to come down here next week, maybe on Wednesday, and interview Leonora all over again.'

‘What about Monday and Tuesday?' Rilla said. ‘What are you doing then?'

‘Well, Monday's a Bank Holiday but I have to go into the office on Tuesday, of course.'

‘Of course. But what about after work? Will you come and have dinner with me, on Tuesday night?'

‘I was hoping you'd ask.'

‘I'm asking.' She turned to kiss him.

‘Someone might see us,' he murmured rather halfheartedly.

‘I don't care if they do,' said Rilla. ‘Kiss me.'

After some moments, she murmured: ‘On Tuesday night, I forgot to say, remember to bring your toothbrush.'

*

Gwen looked towards the marquee. All the tables would be folded away soon, and she was happy to think that the washing-up and clearing away were going to be seen to by someone else. Soon, it would be just the family left at
Willow Court, and Leonora would open her remaining birthday presents. They could get an early night. She began to walk through the wild garden towards the lake, feeling as though she were letting out a breath she'd been holding for much too long.

She bent down and took off her sandals and left them lying on the grass. No one would be coming this way, she was almost sure, and anyone who did would know to leave them there for her to pick up. The wild garden was not the place for high heels and party dresses. Gwen wished she were wearing trousers. I'm alone, she thought, for the first time in days. No one is asking my opinion, or telling me things. It's bliss.

As she approached the lake, she saw someone – a woman – sitting on the old tree stump. The swans had gathered there, too. Gwen was surprised at how disappointed she felt to find that she wouldn't after all be on her own. Should she go back to the house? No, damn it, why should I, she thought, and then she noticed that the woman was Rilla.

‘Rilla?' she said tentatively. ‘Are you all right?'

‘Hello, Gwennie. Of course I'm all right. Why shouldn't I be?'

Gwen began to speak but Rilla interrupted her. ‘You mean being here by the lake, don't you?'

Gwen nodded. ‘I'm just surprised that you chose to come here all by yourself.'

‘It's a test,' said Rilla. ‘I was here with Sean and it wasn't so bad. I could look at the water quite steadily, really. And so I thought I'd give it a go on my own.'

‘But …' Gwen wondered what Sean could have said to persuade her sister to come down to the water's edge and as if she'd read her mind, Rilla said, ‘It was Mother's doing really. She … she explained to me properly what happened when Mark died. She made me feel … well, a little less guilty that I wasn't here.'

‘We've never spoken about it either, have we?' said Gwen. ‘I should have looked after you more, I know, but there were the children …' She bit her lip, suddenly remembering that hideous time, when Efe kept waking in the night with bad dreams, and no wonder, and Alex had stopped talking altogether for a few weeks. If she hadn't had Chloë to look after, she would have gone mad. At the time she'd been grateful to Leonora for keeping everything under control.

‘You didn't do anything wrong, Gwen,' Rilla said quietly. ‘I've never blamed you in the least, and now, well, let's just say that everything's clearer now and I'm here, aren't I? Standing by the lake. Dealing with it, as Beth would say.'

Rilla stood up and started walking. Gwen fell into step beside her.

‘It was a super party,' Rilla said, in a tone that marked a change of subject; a lightening of the atmosphere.