Paying Guests (9 page)

Again he wept, throwing himself down to use her lap as the recipient of his misery; she sat staring over his head as mechanically she stroked his hair and tried to think. She could not question him in detail, of course and yet, ‘Duff,’ she said at length, ‘has he ever done anything to – to hurt you – um – bodily?’

Duff lifted his head.

‘How do you mean?’ he said, looking at her with eyes which were a little sleepy, but certainly no longer swimming.

‘Oh, Duff, you must help me. It is very hard for a mother to know in such a situation what to do or say. But I feel I must. I would not wish to pry into your – um – private life, you understand.’ She stopped, defeated and looked at him imploringly. ‘Oh, Duff, you must know what I mean! Have you done anything that you might feel is shameful or –’

He stared at her for a long moment and then went a rich crimson. ‘Oh, Ma, don’t you understand
anything
of what I’ve said to you?’ He almost shouted it, so that she looked anxiously at the drawing-room door to check it was closed and that no one else in the house could overhear them. ‘It is what he
wants
me to do and which I feel I cannot. I love him, of course I do, but not in the way he wishes me to love him and he gets so angry with me about it! I wish only to be his dear friend and to be close to him in heart and mind. I am not interested in the sort of games they play, he and the others. Half the school does it, but the other half does not and I have never been
one of those who did, for I think it stupid, to tell the truth. And now I think perhaps I have been a fool to be so – so old-fashioned and childish, for I do love him and want him to be happy. But he says that he cannot care for me if I am so namby-pamby and won’t play their games and the next that he admires me the more for being as I am and – and – I don’t know what to do!’

‘If you were to ask me I would say you should never see this Lord Patrick again,’ Tilly said firmly and clearly. ‘He sounds like the sort of very bad influence every caring parent most fears and had I had the least idea there were such boys at your school I would have removed you at once and sent you elsewhere.’

‘Oh, Ma!’ he said and laughed. ‘D’you imagine other boys’ schools are any different? These things go on at all schools. I have met any number of chaps and they all agree that – you can always count on it. I suppose I’m just a prig the way Patrick says I am and should know better.’

‘You are not a prig!’ Tilly said, fired to sudden anger. ‘And I will not have it said by anyone of you. You may not even say it of yourself! If you choose to live your life in a particular way, then that is your choice. It is not priggish to –’

‘Oh, Ma, do stop!’ he said and suddenly, incongruously, yawned hugely. ‘My head is going round enough without more lectures from you. I have said too much.’

‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Not at all too much. It is better for me to know. Oh, Duff, I wish I could help you to be happier. It is all I want for you, the chance to be happy.’

‘Me too,’ he said and then stood up and tried to tidy his clothes; she looked at him and then frowned sharply.

‘I have wanted to ask you – these very fine clothes you are wearing. Did you manage to buy all of them out of your allowance? I did not think I was able to be so generous, and I would be most distressed to hear you had gone into debt.’

He reddened again. ‘No debts,’ he mumbled.

‘Patrick? You foolish creature!’ she jumped to her feet. ‘Letting him buy you costly gifts when he is trying to persuade you to – oh, Duff, where is your sense?’

‘I wish I knew,’ he said with a sudden glint of humour. ‘I think I had more when I was a sprog than I have now.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘It was so easy to be little, well, most of the time it was.’ He looked over her shoulder into the past and his eyes glazed a little.

‘Do you know, Ma, I hadn’t thought of it before but now I recall those days, it occurs to me Patrick reminds me of someone – in his colouring and his tricks of movement and so forth.’

‘Oh’ Tilly said and stared at him. ‘Reminds you of whom?’

‘Oh, that little girl who used to visit. From next door was it? She stayed here for a while, I seem to recall. We played together a lot and she was such fun! I remember that very well, though – anyway, her. I forget her name.’

‘Sophie,’ Tilly said after a pause and bent her head to look down at her fingers, interlaced on her skirts. ‘Sophie Oliver.’

‘Yes –’ Duff lifted his chin and stared at her. ‘Sophie Oliver! I had quite forgot till now. Heavens, what a tease she was! And now I think of it, Patrick is just such another. In his way, I mean – quite different really, he is a man and she was just a child, but all the same –’

‘Well, whatever the likeness, it is not really important now,’ though she was thinking quite otherwise as a confusion of memory and anxiety filled her. ‘I have to say I think it is high time you were in bed. You are still a good deal more affected by that man’s brandy than you realize, and tired by all this – well, all this talk has not been easy for either of us. It is time I went to bed too!’

She went closer to him and lifted one hand to touch his cheek. ‘For all it has been so painful to hear the things you have said, my dear boy, it is not so painful as being cut by you in Brompton Grove.’

‘Oh, I am sorry about that, Ma! I didn’t know
what
to do. He was being so very difficult at the time and I was so afraid of what he might say if I noticed you that I just hurried him away.’

She managed a crooked smile. ‘Hurried him away? Indeed you did. I recollect that fact perfectly well. But all is forgiven. As I say,
that we have talked is better than silence. Promise me you will not be so remote with me ever again? I almost broke my heart over it.’

‘I won’t,’ he promised and bent and kissed her cheek. ‘I suppose you’re right. Bed would be nice.’

‘I shall come and –’ she began and then stopped. ‘I’m sorry. You are too old to need my help to get to bed, are you not? It’s not easy to remember. Goodnight, my dear. I shall see you at breakfast I hope, thick head or not.’ She nodded briskly. ‘I expect you to make an effort in the morning, remember – and we shall talk some more.’

‘Yes,’ he said with sleepy obedience and went to the door, dragging his feet a little. ‘Goodnight. I’m happier too – though I’m still absolutely wretched of course.’ And he left her staring after him with her hands twisted against her skirts still and her mind in a hubbub.

‘Sophie Oliver,’ she said aloud then. ‘Sophie Oliver,’ and closed her eyes to try to escape from the thoughts that had come into her mind. But of course she couldn’t.

SILAS GEDDES HEAPED his plate with devilled mushrooms, added a lavish spoonful of scrambled eggs and sat down in his place as Tilly poured him coffee and sent the cup down the table to him. The remains of the breakfasts of the four schoolteachers were being cleared by Rosie, for they had long gone, as had Mr Cumming and Mr Hancock. The American party had breakfasted in their rooms and only Mr and Mrs Grayling remained at table, loitering over their last slices of toast and cups of coffee.

Tilly sat at the table head, a little tense as she waited, very aware of time ticking on. There was work to be done at her desk and below stairs, where Eliza would be waiting to discuss the day’s menus and have their usual gossip about the work of the house in general, and Tilly also had intended to go out to buy linen to make new bed sheets this morning. And still there was no sign of Duff, though it was almost half past nine and the sounds of the busy street came in through the open window, as well as the scent of the dusty street and the faint linger of roses from the garden.

‘I trust you are well this morning, Mrs Quentin?’ Silas Geddes said and looked at her with his head on one side, as he chewed his mushrooms with obvious enjoyment. ‘You seem not to have eaten any of this excellent breakfast yourself, and I do recommend it!’

She looked down at the coffee cup that stood beside her clearly unused plate. ‘I am not very hungry this morning,’ she said. ‘But I am very well, I do assure you.’

‘I am happy to hear it. I wondered if perhaps this afternoon you
might care to come to one of my meetings? It is on Darwin’s new book. The speakers are not as eminent as Dr Huxley or Bishop Wilberforce, but they are knowledgeable men and it might make an introduction to the subject for you – and you seemed to be sufficiently interested when we spoke of the possibility.’

He stopped invitingly and looked at her with raised eyebrows and she was irritated, as well as a little embarrassed. She had been listening to him with only half her attention, the other being set on listening for Duff, and she was not at first quite sure what he had asked her. As she hesitated, seeking her memory for guidance, the door of the dining room opened.

‘Sorry t’be late,’ Duff muttered and came to sit at the table, ignoring the sideboard and its silver covered dishes. Tilly looked at him anxiously and then nodded a little distractedly at Silas.

‘I doubt I shall be able to, Mr Geddes, but I do thank you for the thought,’ she said. ‘Duff, my dear. Good morning.’

She poured a large cup of black coffee for him.

‘I think this will be to your liking,’ she said and pushed it to him and also the sugar basin; he dropped several heaped spoonfuls into the cup, stirred and drank, clearly very grateful for it.

‘Some more toast for Mr Duff, please Rosie,’ Tilly instructed. ‘And you may clear the sideboard, if Mr Geddes has had sufficient?’ She looked at him inquiringly and at once he nodded. ‘And some more coffee please.’

Rosie bobbed and went, bearing a trayful of dishes with her, and Silas Geddes threw one more glance at Duff and then with some ostentation picked up a copy of the
Morning Post
from the centre of the table and opened it and held it in front of his face so that he was quite obscured from view, while managing to eat the rest of his breakfast with just a fork in his right hand. Mr and Mrs Grayling, having finished their breakfast at last, with much fussing got themselves to their feet and out of the room, and Tilly relaxed her shoulders and looked at Duff.

‘Not too bad, I hope,’ she said in a low voice, and he glanced at her with lacklustre eyes and a hang-dog expression but said nothing. Tilly could not help it; she chuckled.

‘You will take more water than brandy in future, I hope,’ she said. ‘Too much brandy makes one feels dreadfully ill, I am told.’

Duff did not reply, but his glance said it all.

‘Now, this morning I thought I would suggest that you might accompany me on my shopping expedition,’ she went on, lifting her voice a little. ‘We have hardly had a chance to talk yet, and although buying linen might not be your idea of an agreeable occupation, still –’

‘Oh, Mamma, must I?’ Duff looked at her almost piteously. ‘I really feel the need to return to my bed for a while, you know. No thank you, no toast – and –’

‘I insist on the toast,’ Tilly said, as she took the fresh supplies from Rosie and began to butter a slice, adding some of Eliza’s best cherry conserve. ‘You will feel better for it, I’ll be bound. As to returning to bed –’

Along the table the newspaper rustled, then rattled and at last was put down and Silas emerged, looking as though he had heard not a word of the discussion, because of his absorption in his reading. Tilly, however, was not beguiled by this display. He had clearly heard every word and made a decision to join in.

‘Mr Quentin,’ he said. ‘I wonder if I might trespass on your kindness if you have the time to spare? I am told that it is possible to get a horse from a livery stable and ride in the park. It is now some time since I had the chance to take such exercise and I feel the need for it. If you, as a local man, you know, have any suggestions for a good livery stable, I’d take it kindly.’

Duff looked at him a little blearily, and frowned. ‘Stable?’

‘Why yes. I imagine you have ridden in your time?’

Duff looked a little affronted. ‘Of course. We all ride at school. Some huntin’ too.’

Silas laughed merrily. ‘Well, I doubt we can draw a covert in Hyde Park, even at the proper time of year! No, I just thought I’d enjoy a gentle hack about the park, don’t you know, on such a fine morning, and I’d be uncommonly glad of company, to tell you the truth. I know no better exercise than a little canter on a well mannered nag, don’t you know. It quite shakes the liver up and blows away one’s megrims.’

Tilly looked at him gratefully, her irritation with him now quite banished, and smiled brilliantly at Duff. ‘My dear boy, I’m sure you can take Mr Geddes to Cope’s Stables, in Bolney Mews? Their animals for riding are excellent, I am told, Mr Geddes, and I have never had cause to complain when I have had one of their carriage and pairs. And you will benefit greatly from the exercise, Duff?’ She addressed her son apparently in enquiry, but there was a steely note in her voice.

He looked back, opened his mouth to protest and then closed it again as his mother smiled even more brilliantly. ‘I am sure you will do this for Mr Geddes,’ she said. ‘It would be much appreciated.’

‘Indeed, glad to be of help,’ Duff muttered and drank some more coffee and Silas folded his paper immediately and stood up.