The House of Vandekar (38 page)

The pathologist also reported recent sexual intercourse and marks on the body consistent with lovemaking a few hours before death. Richard Vandekar swore under oath that he had visited his wife earlier that night and then returned to his own suite of rooms. The coroner gave a long opinion and managed to slip in a few reflections on the transience of wealth and beauty, as if an unhappy girl killing herself was some kind of retribution.

At last it was over – the photographers and reporters abandoned their siege of Ashton. The picture of Alice walking away from the coroner's court in a black hat with a thick veil, arm in arm with her son, was printed throughout the world. There was a general feeling of satisfaction that the Vandekars had been given a kick in the teeth at last, just to make up for what they had and who they were.

Diana was buried in the churchyard at Ashton. It was a private service, without flowers or letters of condolence. There was a wreath of red roses from Richard and one from Nancy, Alice and Hugo which Alice had ordered. Fern sent nothing. The unmarked sheaf of white carnations came from Brian Kiernan, and everyone in the family knew it. It was a simple service; the vicar spoke movingly of the young life blighted so tragically. The Vandekars sat in their pew; not a handkerchief was produced even for form's sake. The vicar was shocked by the coldness and lack of grief. He had never liked Sir Hugo. He thought him patronizing and supercilious, while his wife never attended the church. The servants sitting behind them were more human than the immediate family. Several of the younger girls were in tears.

At the graveside only Lady Vandekar and her husband stayed on to see their daughter-in-law buried. That shocked the vicar too. When it was over they shook hands with him, thanked him formally and walked to their car to be driven the 2 miles back to the house. He watched them go with distaste. He paused for a moment by the new mound of earth. The wreaths and flowers were laid on top, a brilliant splurge of colour against the dark clay. He stood and said a personal prayer for Diana Vandekar. He had no doubt she had died unhappy and alone among them all.

From the day of the funeral Diana's death was never mentioned. Two of the staff at Ashton were sacked because they were reported by the housekeeper for gossiping, and Robert the footman gave notice. He couldn't pass that Pink Room door without feeling she was somewhere about and it was getting on his nerves.

‘I want to take Richard away,' Alice said.

Hugo took off his glasses – he was busy reading. Parliament had reassembled and he had a great deal of work to do. ‘If you wait,' he said, ‘I might be able to go with you. But I don't want to leave Fern alone at the moment.'

‘How can you go?' Alice was surprised. ‘You can't possibly take the time off now.' He opened and closed the spectacle case, opened and closed it again until she said, ‘Hugo, what's the matter?'

‘I saw the PM.' He sounded almost casual. ‘It was all done very nicely, of course, but the feeling is that after this businesss I would be rather a liability in an election year. So I offered to resign, and it was agreed that the right timing would be just before the Christmas recess. No one wants it to look as if I've been forced to go.' He gave a sour smile and put the glasses away at last.

Alice said, ‘I'm so sorry. It's so damned unfair. What happened wasn't your fault.'

‘I've often wondered,' he said, ‘whose fault it was. Haven't you?' He saw the shut look come over her face.

‘I don't know what you mean. She did it herself. And, thank God, Richard hasn't touched a drink since.'

‘If you're satisfied that's what happened,' he remarked, ‘then well and good. Personally I was very relieved by that verdict. It could have been quite different if the coroner hadn't been such an old fool. Richard bore up very well. As you say, he hasn't even consoled himself once.'

‘Why do you hate him?' she asked. ‘He's never hurt you. He always loved you, always wanted to please you. The last thing he said to me the night she died was how sorry he was that he'd let you down and how he wished he could do something to make you proud of him.'

‘Perhaps he has,' Hugo said. ‘Perhaps he has. I shan't mind retiring from politics. There'll be plenty of other things I can do.'

‘You will mind,' she countered. ‘You wanted the top job and I know it. If you'd stop lashing out at me, I might be able to help you bear it.'

‘I think that's a very nice thought,' he answered, ‘but not very realistic. I'll find plenty to occupy my time, don't worry. I won't be under your feet. Now, I really must get on with this. Let me know if you decide to postpone your trip. That is, if you'd like me to come with you. I don't want to be in the way.'

‘Even if I didn't want you, and I do,' she said, ‘Richard would be thrilled. I'm sorry about what's happened to you, Hugo, but I'm not going to stand here and listen to you being sorry for yourself. OK, you're not going to Number 10. You won't even be leader of the Opposition, because I think your lot are going to be thrown out next year. But other people have to face disappointment. For Christ's sake, pull your socks up!'

To her amazement he burst out laughing. He laughed for quite a long time until water stood in his eyes. ‘My dear Alice,' he said at last, ‘my dear Alice, what an incredible creature you are! Nothing gets you down, does it? I believe you're indestructible,' and he began to laugh all over again. ‘Pull my socks up, you say. You're the one who should be Prime Minister. Suicide – if it was suicide – all the dirt thrown at us … Most women would be shattered. But not you. Oh no, not you.'

‘What's the use of giving in?' Alice demanded. ‘Life goes on, it has to. You might tell that to Fern by the way. If she keeps on nagging the soul out of Brian, he's going to walk out on her.'

‘That's what I hope,' he countered. ‘I've been encouraging her to feel aggrieved. You see, you're not the only ruthless member of the family.'

Over her shoulder Alice said to him, ‘I've known that for a long time. As God made us, darling, he matched us.'

8

Alice didn't go away on the planned trip with Richard. Hugo resigned on grounds of ill health just before the House went into recess for the Christmas holiday. It was understood that he would be made a life peer in the New Year's Honours List. The Prime Minister wrote him an official letter in which he expressed his deep regret at losing a friend and colleague who had devoted the last thirty years to public service, and emphasized how much the nation owed him. Richard had it framed for him as a Christmas present.

Richard himself was sober. He had begun to work on the family history again. Alice kept going on from day to day in hope, and she felt her judgement had been right. Without Diana, he had pulled through the crisis. And what crisis could have been worse than his wife being found dead and the medical evidence that she had been with another man only a few hours before? Looking at him sometimes, Alice wondered. She wondered how he had managed to go into the court and lie to protect the family and his dead wife's name with a coolness that was so untypical. He had never been strong-willed. There was no steel in him, and the lack of it had puzzled her over the years. He wasn't Nick's son in that respect. He had always been easygoing, friendly, anxious to please. Not tough like her, or ruthless either. But the sight of him in that witness box haunted Alice. Immediately after Diana's death he had been stunned, shocked into a silent withdrawal. But he didn't drink. In the greatest crisis of his life, he bore it in his own way and without trying to escape. It was odd, but she was too anxious about how long it would last to question it. She never mentioned Diana. He never spoke about her. He wouldn't let Nancy cling to him; he stood aside while Alice took over the role of both parents to his child. He retreated into a world of his own, with his book on the family and long solitary walks regardless of the weather. He had bought himself a labrador, in imitation of Hugo, and the dog was his constant companion. He refused, very politely and with grateful thanks, his mother's offer of a trip abroad. He wasn't in need of a holiday. He was busy on his book, quite contented, thank you, and didn't want to interrupt the work. As Alice said to Lily, she didn't know what the hell to make of him. But so long as he stayed away from the bottle, she wasn't going to question. He was there at Ashton, but not there in a way. Not the Richard she knew, whom his father despised and his sister hated because she was jealous of him. He had shut them all out, including Alice.

He consulted his father about the family history and Hugo was cooperative but distant. He didn't think about Richard or ponder the change of personality that had taken place.

Immediately after the funeral their friends had rallied round with sympathy and support, but, led by sections of the press, there was an undercurrent of criticism and it began to touch on Hugo's political career. Articles appeared assessing his performance in the Cabinet. He had made enemies over the years. Now the victims of his lacerating tongue and his pursuit of personal power exacted vengeance in a campaign of smear and innuendo. One article in a prestigious political monthly bordered on libel.

Alice reacted predictably. She thought the attacks were cowardly and despicable. ‘Sue them,' she advised furiously. ‘You've got the money – you can break them, Hugo!'

‘No,' he answered. ‘They'd love a court case, more scandal, more opportunity to throw mud. And we have a lot to hide, remember. If I sue Mollins, he wouldn't let it rest at my political career. He's got friends in the gutter press who'd help him out with a very different kind of muckraking.'

‘It's only because we never invited him here,' Alice retorted. ‘He's just a miserable little blackmailer. If you'd licked his boots like some of your colleagues, he wouldn't be attacking you now.'

‘And would you have liked having David Mollins in the house?' he asked her.

‘No,' she admitted. ‘And I'm not sorry we didn't. He's the worst kind of leech.' Miserable little man, she thought angrily. As a political journalist and self-styled pundit, he had undoubted power and influence. He had long been an enemy of Hugo Vandekar because he hadn't been invited to the gatherings at Ashton.

‘You mean you're going to sit and take this sort of character assassination? Don't do it on account of me, Hugo. Or Richard, or what happened with Diana, or anything else! If you want to fight them, I'm right behind you.'

‘I know you are,' he said. ‘But I know the way these people work. They thrive on publicity, on controversy. It makes them big. It only ends by diminishing their victims even if they win the legal battle. I shall ignore it, Alice. But not because I'm afraid, I wouldn't want you to think that.'

‘You don't have to say that,' she answered. ‘One thing about you, Hugo, you've never been afraid of anything. It just makes me sick to see scum like Mollins sniping at you and getting away with it.'

‘They'll lose interest. They'll pick on someone else after a time. What a dreadful year it's been.' He glanced up at her. ‘You're smoking too much,' he said. ‘You've been told to cut down.'

‘I know. Don't nag. It helps if I'm worked up.' She stubbed it out. ‘I've got an idea,' she said.

‘Now that's far more alarming than Mollins at his worst,' he countered. ‘I know you when you're in this mood. What is it?'

Alice sat down facing him. ‘It's a year, as you said, a year since Diana died. You've left politics, OK. I still think it was bloody unfair. But we've been taking it lying down, Hugo. We've been keeping a low profile as if we had something to be ashamed of – I reckon it's time we came back on the scene, and back in a big way. I want to throw a party – we'll find a reason, some birthday, anniversary … something – a party that will have everyone fighting for invitations and make every newspaper in the country. We're going to show them that the Vandekars are people to be reckoned with. What do you say?'

Hugo smiled in his unwilling way. ‘What I said to you before. You're an incredible creature, Alice. Indestructible. Go ahead. I rather like the idea.'

They spent Christmas in the South of France that year. Hugo had bought the villa and the winter weather was exceptionally cold and wet. A new government had been elected, and it wasn't Conservative. Hugo had a succession of colds, and it was her idea that they should pack up and go to France where it could be pleasantly mild at that time of year.

Richard resisted coming with them. He had finished his book, which was being typed and prepared for submission. An old friend with a prestige publishing house had commissioned it on a first chapter and draft, more because he hoped to ingratiate himself with the Vandekars than because he felt it would be commercial. Richard had become more and more solitary. Most Sundays he went off alone to morning service and could be seen sitting by himself at the back of the church. He didn't want to go to France with them for Christmas, but Alice wouldn't go without him.

‘Darling,' she said, ‘don't be difficult. Your father's run down and needs the change. I've got to have Fern, God help me, and the children – Brian's spending Christmas with
his
parents – and what about Nancy? You can't
not
come with us!'

He said at last, ‘All right, Mum. I'll come. I'll come if it'll make that much difference to you.'

Alice hugged him briefly. She felt sad so often when she was with him these days. Happy about his recovery, but also sad, as if she had lost him somewhere on the way. ‘You know it will,' she said. ‘You know I'm always happy when we're together. I wish –'

She stopped, and he said gently, ‘Wish what? Come on, tell me what you wish.'

‘I wish you wouldn't spend so much time on your own,' she said. ‘Day after day shut up in your rooms, coming down for dinner if we're lucky.'