Lorimers at War (3 page)

Always observant, Margaret could not help noticing that he seemed to be under some kind of strain. She wondered, as she had wondered once or twice before, whether he wanted to marry Kate. She had noticed that ever since his cousin's arrival in England he had formed the habit of spending the night at Margaret's house whenever he had to come to London on business, although the return journey to Bristol was not a long
one. He was not a man who found it easy to chat to young women or to spare the time from his business to indulge in the formal ritual of courtship. Nor could Margaret ever imagine him falling in love. But the relationship of one cousin with another was a relaxed one, and he had always seemed at ease with Kate.

There was another reason why Arthur – approaching the decision rationally, as he was certain to do – might have seen Kate as a possible wife. She was a doctor. This could make it easier for him to confess to her, as he had earlier done to Margaret herself, the consequences of the attack of mumps which he had suffered at the age of twenty-five. He might also hope that someone dedicated to her profession would be more willing than most ordinary women to embark on a marriage in the knowledge that her husband would never be able to give her children. Not many men allowed their wives to work; but it was a concession Arthur might be prepared to offer as a form of compensation. Whether Kate would allow herself to be bribed into matrimony was another matter.

Margaret tut-tutted to herself. Match-making, even when it was only in the imagination, was a temptation which ought to be resisted. The young people were perfectly capable of making their own plans. Of more immediate importance was Arthur's reminder that the next item on the programme would be the supper dance, for which she too was engaged. She turned to go down, and found herself facing the portrait of her father. His piercing eyes reminded her of the many occasions during her childhood when he had demanded an explanation of some misdeed. She had been frightened of him then, but now her chin lifted – not so much defiantly as in triumph. When John Junius Lorimer died he had left his family ruined and disgraced. If anything was required to prove how hard and how successfully his four children had worked to raise themselves out of that morass of dismay, it was tonight's ball, with its background of wealth and its
strong ties of family affection. As she made her way back to the ballroom floor, the war was far from Margaret's thoughts, and she was happy.

Kate had been surprised when her cousin Robert interrupted their dance together to ask whether she would talk with him for a few moments. Usually teasing and carefree, he had become unexpectedly serious. They had both spent many holidays at Blaize, and knew their way around the old house. The library was not one of the rooms open to the generality of tonight's guests, so as she followed Robert there Kate guessed that they would not be interrupted.

‘I need advice,' he said abruptly, closing the door behind him. ‘I want to join up, like Brinsley. Or at least, I don't know whether I want to, but I think I ought to.'

‘Robert! You can't do that. It would break Aunt Margaret's heart.'

‘But everyone else is doing it. Of course no mother is going to
like
it, exactly, but other mothers are letting their sons go.'

‘Other mothers may have other children, and husbands. Aunt Margaret has no one but you. She'd never have a moment's peace while you were away.'

‘It would be hard for her, I know it would. But what am I to do, Kate? Have I got to spend the rest of my life wrapped in cotton wool because I'm the only son of a widow? There has to be a moment when I leave home and start living my own life.'

‘Well, of course,' Kate agreed. ‘And by any normal definition of leading your own life, I'm quite sure that Aung Margaret would want you to go. But this is different. You must see the difference.'

‘What I see is that everyone else is going. What am I to say when my friends ask me why I'm still at home? “I can't leave my mother.” I don't want to hurt her, Kate, but I feel this is my duty. I was hoping you could help.'

‘If you want help, Uncle Piers is the best person to ask for it.' Kate knew that Lord Glanville had been Margaret's closest friend in England for almost twenty years. ‘But if you're asking me for advice –'

‘No.' Robert smiled, although it was only an imitation of his usual cheerful grin. ‘I'm looking for someone whose advice will be to do what I already want to do. I can see you're not the right person. I mustn't make you late for your supper. Who's taking you in?'

Kate consulted the programme which, with its miniature pencil, swung from her wrist, and saw that Arthur had initialled the next dance.

‘And he's a punctual man,' commented Robert when she told him. He held the door open for her. Kate hesitated, feeling that there must be something more she could say. But although Robert resembled her brother Brinsley in his laughing and apparently carefree attitude to life, there was a difference between the two cousins. Robert's light-heartedness, unlike Brinsley's, was not central to his character, but was the ripple on the surface of a pool of thoughtfulness. He laughed and he teased and he was always ready to play, but at heart he was serious. Brinsley might view with horror the thought of a settled future and a working career, but Robert was already in the middle of training to be a civil engineer. Kate saw that he had spoken the truth when he admitted that he was asking for support rather than advice. It meant, almost certainly, that he had already made up his mind.

Back in the ballroom, Arthur was looking for her with an impatience which contained a hint of anxiety. As Kate smiled, to show that she had not forgotten, she thought how well evening dress became him. Robert was too
young and somehow too rugged to look at ease in the shining, stiff-fronted shirt and long tail coat which were part of the black and white uniform worn by all the civilian men at the ball; while at the other extreme Lord Glanville, tall and silver-haired, looked distinguished whatever he wore. But Arthur's clothes changed him entirely for the better. By day his slightness made him appear insignificant; his face was too narrow to be handsome and his hair was already beginning to recede slightly, suggesting that he would be bald one day. Now, though, he appeared almost elegant.

Or perhaps, thought Kate, it was just that the whole atmosphere of the ball placed the dancers and the surroundings at one remove from reality. Just as a gauze might be dropped in Alexa's riverside opera house to blur the edges of the action behind it, changing it from drama – already far from real life – to fantasy, so now the romantic setting had transformed all those who enjoyed it, making all the men seem handsome and all the women beautiful. All except herself, of course – but even she felt herself walking taller, playing her part in the scene.

The doors of the banqueting hall were thrown open and there were gasps of admiration even from guests accustomed to such displays of tasteful extravagance. Kate and Arthur, as befitted members of the family, hung back for a little, accepting a glass of punch from one of the footmen as they waited. Kate was still conscious of some kind of tension in Arthur's manner, and searched for a subject of conversation to break their silence.

A group of Brinsley's friends, who had all volunteered at the same time as himself, led their partners to the buffet and gave her the chance to comment.

‘How smart they all look in their new uniforms,' she said. ‘Do you intend to volunteer, Arthur?'

‘I'm thirty-six,' he said. ‘Too old to learn to be a soldier. This is a young man's war. And even if that weren't the case, I can be more use to the country by
remaining at work. We're not being told very much about the German submarines. I suppose the Government is anxious not to alarm the country. But there are certain to be losses at sea. Ships will be sunk, and they must be replaced quickly if the country isn't to starve. The Lorimer Line has had contracts with the same shipbuilding firm for a great many years. I bought that firm last week, and I intend to increase its output at once. I'd hoped to interest Brinsley in the new business, as a matter of fact – to keep as much as possible of its profit within the family. Naturally he couldn't do anything until the war is over, but after that I thought he might find a management position in Bristol more exciting than exile to Jamaica. But clearly he has too much to think about at the moment. He wasn't able to give the idea proper attention.'

Kate suspected that Brinsley had little interest in business of any kind, and even less aptitude for it. But her brother would have to settle down to some kind of work sooner or later, so she was careful not to spoil an opportunity by putting her thought into words. There was another objection, though. ‘I imagine my father will want him to take over the work of the plantation eventually,' she said.

‘It's my impression that your father has already found a capable assistant,' said Arthur. ‘We have a good deal of business correspondence about the bananas which he consigns to my ships. I noticed two years ago that the letters which he signed were written in a different hand. And now his secretary, or whoever it may be, appears to have taken over all the office work. Besides being more efficient in keeping his accounts up to date, he's been quite awkwardly enterprising in looking for alternative markets and ships, which your father would never have done. I was forced to revise my quotations last year.' Arthur's thin lips curled in a smile of grudging admiration for the unknown Jamaican who had beaten him in his
own field. ‘It seems to me that if your father needs a manager to succeed him, he already has one.'

‘Do you know his name?' asked Kate.

‘D. Mattison, he signs himself.'

‘Duke!' exclaimed Kate, smiling with pleasure.

‘You know him?'

‘Very well. He was our best friend in Jamaica, Brinsley's and mine. He's older than we are – he must be almost twenty-eight by now. He used to play cricket with Brinsley. It's because Duke was such a good bowler that Brinsley became such a good batsman. And he always had a good head for figures. I suggested to Father before I left the island that he ought to take Duke into his office. I'm delighted that he's done so.'

‘Duke is an unusual name to be christened,' said Arthur.

‘Not for a Jamaican.'

‘Are you telling me that he's black?'

‘Well, brown, really. Quite a few of the islanders show signs of English blood, and Duke more than most.' Kate couldn't help smiling at the expression on her cousin's face. It was difficult to tell whether he was more shocked at the thought that he was doing business with a native or by the need to recognize that moral standards in the colonies had not always been as high as they should have been. Kate changed the subject quickly before Arthur should express some opinion with which she would be bound to disagree. ‘Shall we find ourselves a seat for supper?' she suggested.

‘There's no hurry,' said Arthur, and it was true that the space round the buffet tables was crowded. ‘Will you come into the conservatory with me, Kate? It's very hot in here.'

Kate could not control a smile. She had heard from her friends so many accounts of proposals of marriage which had taken place in conservatories that the word had become a joke, as though such an extension of the house
existed purely for this purpose, and not for the benefit of the plants which grew there. She was about to tease her partner – for although a few moments earlier she had felt herself enveloped in a romantic atmosphere, it had not touched her emotions – when it occurred to her that Arthur had not spoken in joke. He was displaying all the nervousness of a man planning to put the conservatory to this conventional use.

The idea came as a shock. Kate had been on friendly terms with Arthur ever since she arrived in England to start her medical training, but she had never thought of him as anything more than a cousin, and she did not wish to do so now. Instinctively she took a step backwards, searching for a reason to stay in the crowded hall.

The excuse which presented itself was not one which she would have chosen. While she had been talking to Arthur, Lord Glanville's butler had come into the hall, carrying the silver tray on which he was accustomed to present letters. But no ordinary letter would arrive at this time of night. What Brinsley was reading was a telegram.

His face flushed with excitement. He called to those of his friends who were in uniform and they hurried to read the words over his shoulder. They spoke briefly to their partners before moving in a little group towards their startled hostess. But Brinsley called them to a halt.

‘One more dance!' he shouted. ‘Lord Kitchener won't begrudge us a last waltz.' He dispatched the butler to call back the orchestra, who were taking their own break for refreshments, and led the way back into the ballroom. There was an eager chatter of voices as the other guests left their suppers and followed.

Arthur was saying something, but Kate did not hear the words. Too abruptly to be believed, the atmosphere of the ball had changed from a romantic dreaminess to a highly charged drama, and Kate's blood was cold with a sudden fear. Brinsley, without doubt, had received his summons to leave for France. His friends, commissioned
at the same time, would in a few moments hurry to their homes to discover whether similar telegrams were waiting for them, but Kate's emotions were centred on her brother alone.

‘How can he look so excited when he's going into such danger?' she exclaimed, appalled that the family should have admired Brinsley's enthusiasm without stopping to reflect that it was leading him somewhere where he would have to kill or be killed.

‘How could he go into such danger if he were not excited?' Arthur countered. His arm was round her waist as though he feared that she might faint, but Kate was hardly aware of it.