The Children's Hour (23 page)

‘There are lots of people like Liam,' he answered. ‘It's a kind of genetic instruction. A driving force. If they stop, they die.'

‘Don't say that,' she said. ‘I don't want us to be like this for the rest of our lives. I want us to spend some time
together occasionally, have a holiday, start a family, that kind of thing. Like ordinary people do.'

He looked at her compassionately. ‘But Liam's not an ordinary person,' he said gently. ‘Something drives him. You must know that by now.'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘Yes, I know that.'

When Liam came to sit with her again, and Joe disappeared, carrying his plate into the kitchen, his vitality licked over him like a flame; even his hair seemed to tingle with it. He kissed her, glossy with goodwill, slipping an arm about her shoulders, and Joe grinned at them as he came back through the kitchen swing-door.

‘You two ought to have a curtain across, sometimes,' he said. ‘It's indecent the way you carry on in public,' and they laughed back at him as Liam bent to kiss her again.

‘The atmosphere here goes to your head,' she told him.

‘And not just the atmosphere,' he answered. ‘Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?'

Mickey brought them some coffee and they sat quietly together, drinking companionably.

‘I had an idea earlier,' she said at last, ‘about putting in some central heating. You're right about my room getting cold. I know I could use the electric radiator but it's terribly expensive. What about biting the bullet and putting in proper heating? It would increase the value of the house, wouldn't it?'

‘It would.' He was staring down at his coffee, stirring it thoughtfully. ‘But have you any idea of the cost?'

‘No,' she said slowly, ‘but we could get an estimate.' A pause. ‘I could use the money from the house for it. What do you think?'

Another pause. She glanced at him; he was still stirring his coffee, the spoon moving round and round, and she had the
impression that he wasn't listening to her at all, that his whole attention was somewhere else. Part of her was relieved that he hadn't immediately vetoed the idea or lost his temper; part of her was puzzled. He spoke, however, before she could repeat the question.

‘It's a thought,' he said. He took a draught of the coffee and leaned back, stretching, a smile touching his lips. ‘Definitely a thought.'

She drew a long breath, feeling herself relax. ‘Good,' she said.

‘And I must go and talk to the punters,' he said and chuckled suddenly. ‘What did you call it? My royal walk-about?' He swallowed some more coffee and stood up. Squeezing past, he smiled down at her, sending her a little wink. ‘I'll be back.'

She settled comfortably, quite weak now that the moment was over, still astonished at his amiability. After pouring some more coffee, she sat quietly, watching him as he moved amongst his customers; a nod here, a pat on the shoulder there, a compliment to a pretty woman, a longer conversation with some favoured regulars. After a moment she was aware of someone watching her and, glancing across to the bar, she saw Joe looking at her with an odd expression of mingled affection and compassion.

Mina carefully set out the pieces on the backgammon board, put the dice ready in their cups and waited for Nest to position her chair comfortably. In the corner of the room, Inspector Morse, with the faithful Lewis, was solving Oxford's crime whilst Georgie watched alertly, muttering excitedly from time to time.

Mina threw a five, Nest a two, and Mina began to move her counters.

‘Georgie came into my room again last night.' Nest spoke quietly but normally, knowing that the noise of the television would mask her actual words, not wishing to attract attention by sounding conspiratorial.

‘Oh, no!' Mina fumbled with her dice as she put them back into the cup, looking at her anxiously. ‘What happened?'

‘I was out for the count.' Nest threw her dice. Double four. ‘To begin with, I wondered if it was a dream. You know what it's like when you take a sleeping pill? You feel drugged.' She began to move her counters. ‘She thought I was Mama, lying down in the morning-room. She couldn't understand why.'

She finished her move and Mina threw her dice, six and four, and frowned at the board.

‘Did she say anything . . . well, anything silly?' Mina's hand hovered over a counter.

‘She said that she knew Mama's secret and asked if she should tell it.'

Mina's hand trembled a little; she moved her counter quickly and then put both hands in her lap.

‘And did she?' she asked, quite casually. ‘Did she tell this secret?'

Nest made her move, taking one of Mina's undefended counters as she did so.

‘No,' she answered. ‘I managed to catch hold of her. She was leaning over me, you see, whispering.'

Nest watched Mina give a tiny shudder as she threw her dice. ‘How horrid for you.'

‘It was, rather. I managed to grapple with her. And then I said that it was me, Nest.'

‘Oh, trust me to throw a double six when I can't use it. Your turn. So what did she say then?'

‘There was a bit of a silence. Then she said, “I know a secret about you too,” or something like that. “Shall I tell it?” she asked me.'

Nest deftly moved her counters out of an imminent danger and glanced across the table at her sister. Mina looked old and tired; her frailty filled Nest with love and remorse.

‘And did she?' Mina could barely frame the words. ‘Did she tell you what she knows?'

‘No.' Nest shook her head. ‘I shouted at her. Well, I think I did, it was all so hazy, but perhaps it was stupid of me. I'm beginning to think that it would be more sensible if we confronted her and found out exactly what it is she
does
know. If anything.'

‘No,' said Mina quickly. ‘No, I don't think so.'

They stared at each other across the forgotten game and, quite suddenly, loud music and the sound of commercials crashed ear-splittingly into the room. Nest winced and, just as suddenly, there was silence.

‘Sorry,' said Georgie cheerfully. ‘I turned the thingy the wrong way.' She got up and came towards them. ‘I've seen this one before. It's the don who did it. Funny, isn't it? You'd never expect the things that happen in Oxford, would you? I always thought that Oxford dons were such
respectable
people.' She peered at them, eyes bright. ‘Shall I get the tray in while the commercials are on? The coffee's all ready, isn't it? Just pour boiling water in the jug?'

She went away. Nest bit her lip and Mina reached to touch her hand.

‘I was dreaming about Connor, you see.' Nest spoke rapidly. ‘Remembering those years after the war and Timmie going off to Sandhurst. Mina, do you remember the day Connor called on you here that very first time?'

Mina took a slow, deep breath, her gaze drifting away from Nest's face, looking back to a long-past June day.

‘Yes,' she said gently. ‘Yes, of course I do. We were in the garden after lunch. I was putting out some bedding plants and Henrietta was talking to me. She'd brought out a garden chair and was sitting smoking, chatting while I worked. Mama was resting. Henrietta was being naughty about Mama disapproving of her slacks. You know how old-fashioned Mama was about things like that? They were quite beautiful, I have to say, in a delicious navy-blue linen. Superbly cut, of course, and she was wearing a bright yellow shirt . . .'

‘Go on,' said Nest grimly. ‘I can imagine the scene.'

‘Well, Connor came walking down the drive – of course we had no idea who he was – and introduced himself and explained that it had seemed rather pushy to sweep in with the car and so on. He apologized for calling unannounced but said he'd been passing and that he'd met you at a party and you'd told him to drop in.' She paused, thinking back, cudgelling her memory.

‘Go
on
,' whispered Nest urgently, listening for Georgie.

‘Henrietta was enchanted by him. She got up and said something like, “I didn't know my baby sister had such good sense,” and introduced herself. He took her hand and bowed over it but you could see,' Mina's voice was dragging, hesitating – ‘Go
on
!' said Nest fiercely – ‘that he was bowled over by her. I have to say that she looked sensational. She was so . . . breathtakingly English. A dark-haired Grace Kelly. It was as if he'd been suddenly blinded. It was the true
coup de foudre
– I recognized it because I'd been there once, myself – and he shook my hand in a complete daze. I offered him some tea and he said that he'd love some – oh! but he was charming with that faint touch of the Irish – and Henrietta carried him off to help her make it. I think she was
afraid that I might make eyes at him.' Mina paused. ‘You must remember,' she pointed out, ‘that he was much more our generation than yours.'

‘You don't have to remind me,' answered Nest bitterly. ‘Once he'd clapped eyes on Henrietta I must have looked like a raw, tongue-tied schoolgirl. That's what he said when he wrote to me, you know? Not in those words but it's what he meant. Oh, he didn't mention that he was dating Henrietta, of course – I found out about that much later – but he talked about the difference in our ages. Cradle-snatching, I think he called it. He took me out to tea first, if you remember? He wanted to do the honourable thing and tell me face to face but, afterwards, he wrote to me, to confirm it, you might say. I think he suspected that I'd simply refused to take it in, that I'd go on hoping, and he was absolutely right. In the letter, he repeated what he'd said in that wretched tea-room, that he'd given it a great deal of thought and he'd realized that it would be wrong of him to let our friendship develop any further. He said that the romantic way we'd met had put a whole false impression on it and that I'd soon find that my feelings for him were simply infatuation, a schoolgirl crush. He was very, very kind.' She stared across the neglected backgammon board at Mina. ‘I learned that letter by heart,' she said bleakly.

‘Here we are!' Georgie was back with them, carrying the tray. ‘Oh, it's started again.' Mina and Nest stared guiltily at the silently mouthing, gesticulating Morse. ‘You should have shouted.' She looked at them reproachfully.

‘Well, if you've seen it before I expect you'll soon pick it up,' said Mina pacifically. ‘We got carried away by our game.'

Georgie stood the tray on the low table by the fire and came to look at the board.

‘Looks a bit messy,' she said critically. ‘Remember the day when I gammoned you, Mina?'

‘Yes,' said Mina, smiling. ‘I remember it very well. It was jolly clever stuff. You'd better get back to Morse and I'll pour the coffee and make Nest's tea.'

Captain Cat and Nogood Boyo came from their beds, ears pricked hopefully, and she fed them a morsel of shortbread, murmuring her love words to them and taking a piece to Polly Garter, who was still curled on her beanbag. By the time she got back to the board, with her coffee and Nest's mug of herbal tea, the moment of confidence was past and they played in silence, each locked into her thoughts of the past, until the game was over.

Helena and Rupert arrived late on Saturday morning, by which time all three sisters were in a state of nervous tension. Georgie was, by turns, either capriciously critical of the arrangements made for their comfort or petulantly indifferent, as if she'd suddenly remembered exactly why she was at Ottercombe in the first place. Nest had slept badly, reliving those days of Connor's rejection but unwilling to take another sleeping-pill, and looked exhausted. Mina, ploughing steadily onwards, disregarding Georgie's sudden switches of mood but anxious for Nest, was still trying to come to some decision as to whether or not she should insist that Georgie should be removed.

The previous night she had sent an e-mail to Elyot.

From:
  Mina
To:
      Elyot

My dear friend I am in a state of guggle. There is no doubt
that Georgie has opened Pandora's box and all our skeletons are tumbling out. Or am I mixing my metaphors? First me and Tony Luttrell, now Nest and Connor. I simply do not know what to do for the best . . .

From:
  Elyot
To:
      Mina

Wait, wait until the moment shows its hand. These things so often resolve themselves and we need the patience to let ourselves be carried. Oh dear! How simplistic that sounds – and so much easier written than done! Don't I know it. Just don't give in, dear old friend, but let me know how the day went – if you have any strength left by the end of it . . .

So Mina had gone to bed, determined to take his advice, holding Lydia's carved, wooden rosary, allowing the beads to slip between her fingers, until a measure of calm possessed her weary brain and she'd slept. She'd risen refreshed, surprisingly peaceful, but Georgie's mood-swings and Nest's look of patient suffering gave rise to anxiety that she was unable to control. It was almost a relief when Rupert and Helena arrived and they all went out to meet them.

‘Mother!' Helena swung herself enthusiastically out of the car and hurried to the waiting Georgie as if they'd been kept forcibly apart for months. ‘How
are
you?' She held her at arm's length. ‘Looking
very
well.'

She beamed tenderly into Georgie's sulky, watchful face and Nest felt an overwhelming urge to burst into hysterical laughter. She caught Mina's eye but Mina stared back at her expressionlessly, daring her to grin, although Nest knew that she too longed to chuckle. Rupert was approaching, having
carefully locked and alarmed the car – ‘Does he think that there are car thieves hidden in the garden?' asked Mina indignantly, later – and smiled graciously upon them. He kissed each of them lightly on the cheek and took Georgie's unresponsive hands.