The House of Vandekar (7 page)

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Authors: Evelyn Anthony

BOOK: The House of Vandekar
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‘It'll take at least a year,' Hugo remarked.

‘Oh no it won't! Not if I'm there to see they don't sit around and slack. Would you mind, darling? I ought to go down and be on the spot. You could join me at weekends. I'd make sure it was cosy for you.'

‘If you think you can manage,' he said. ‘Won't you be wretchedly uncomfortable with all that noise and mess going on around you?'

‘I'd rather be there and get it done in six months than hang around halfway between homes like we are now,' she said. They had handed back the St James's Square house to Beatrice Vandekar and moved into a furnished house off Berkeley Street. ‘I can take Lily with me. And someone to cook. You bring Clay down at the weekends. We'll manage. And I'll come up to London if there's anything important.'

‘It might be better to leave Clay behind,' Hugo said. His valet was not likely to enjoy picnicking in a half-finished house.

‘OK, Lily can look after you too.'

‘She is remarkable, isn't she? Nothing seems to fuss her.'

‘Only me,' Alice laughed. ‘I can fuss her all right.'

Hugo looked up. ‘I wouldn't get too intimate. It doesn't do with English servants.'

She came and sat on the arm of his chair. ‘I know. But she'd never take a liberty. She's no doormat either, and I like that. Now and again I just tell her to shut up, and that's it. My God, look at the time – we'll be late. The curtain goes up at eight-thirty. I must fly upstairs and change.'

He followed her. He had his own suite of rooms. His evening clothes were laid out. They were going to the ballet. She was so happy, so busy, and the house had drawn them together. She'd been right about that. There was no time to be unhappy, except in the sad aftermath of making love. She'd kept her promise. She never said no. She didn't lie or make excuses. She was so honourable in her commitment to the terms of their agreement that he didn't know whether to admire her or hate her for it. But he still wanted her too much to stop or analyse.

He fantasized that one day he would be able to arouse her. He imagined ways of bringing her senses to life, but only succeeded in arousing himself. Perhaps it would be best if she went to Ashton. It would give him a chance to concentrate on his business. And to look around. Perhaps another woman would make it easier …

‘I won't have time to bath,' Alice announced.

‘It's run and ready,' Lily countered. ‘You can't go out without bathing, madam, you're all hot and sticky.'

She was too, Alice conceded. Running upstairs had made her sweat. It was a quick bath.

Lily held out the big bath towel and helped her dry. Alice had no inhibitions about her maid seeing her naked. Women didn't worry her. It was nice to be cosseted.

‘Madam,' Lily looked at her, ‘I think you're putting on weight!'

‘Oh, shut up, Lily. Of course I'm not.'

She was dressed and made up. Lily draped a furlined cloak over her shoulders. ‘You look very nice, madam,' she said.

Alice smiled back at her as she left the room. ‘Thanks to you. Don't wait up, I can get out of this by myself, thank goodness.'

When she was gone Lily began to tidy the bathroom and the bedroom. That was not her job but she disliked someone else coming in and handling her lady's things. She wouldn't let the housemaid touch the bed or fiddle with things on the dressing table. That was her domain.

She had been six months with Alice and now Alice couldn't do without her. She was proud of the way her lady looked and proud of how much that was due to her efforts. And it was very personal, working for Alice. She shared in the excitements. That amazing day, for instance, when they came back late on a Sunday evening and there was Alice bubbling like champagne, instead of being quiet and low, like she usually was at the end of a weekend with him there all the time. ‘Lily,' she'd said, ‘We're going to buy the most wonderful house in England! And I want you to come and live there with me!' Life had become varied for her because it was full of activity for her mistress. ‘What shall I wear today, Lily?' was a regular question. ‘Depends where you're going, madam.'

The answer could be anything, from a dinner at Kensington Palace to lunch with girlfriends at Claridges. And then there was Mrs Holmes Fry. Lily liked her. She was a gentle soul, not at all a firecracker like Madam. Lily did an alteration once or twice and was so nicely thanked she didn't mind being asked at the last minute. ‘You can do this for Mother, can't you, Lily? After all, you're one of the family now …' She was such a devil, really, Lily admitted. She knew just how to twist your arm. And then make you feel as if she'd done
you
a favour. She worked long hours and got told to shut up if she protested about anything, but Lily couldn't imagine going back to her old humdrum life. She was even excited about going to Ashton. She couldn't wait to see the sparks flying when her lady got to grips with the workmen.

And I'm right, Lily insisted, checking the room before she went off duty. She is putting on weight – that dress isn't as loose as it should be. She stopped halfway through the door. Of course. Of course, that was it. She ought to know, seeing she looked after Alice's undies and washed everything delicate herself. Alice hadn't had her last curse. Nearly two months. And hadn't noticed, like as not, Lily decided. Thinking of nothing but that blessed house. Well. She'd just have to slow down, that's what. She lived on her nerves as it was, rushing about all day long. She looked tired in the mornings, really poorly sometimes. Lily thought Mr Hugo was nice enough, but he must be a bit of a pig in that way, or her lady wouldn't look down in the mouth first thing in the morning. Not for long – she soon perked up though. Well, she said to herself again. Never a dull moment around here.

A week later Alice started feeling sick. Phoebe hurried round. ‘Oh darling, why didn't you tell me? How long is it?'

‘Mother, I didn't know,' Alice said impatiently. ‘I'm not certain till I see Dr Harris, but it seems most likely.'

Phoebe said gently, ‘Aren't you pleased? Isn't Hugo delighted?'

‘He doesn't know, I'm not saying anything until I'm sure. With any luck it may just be very late.'

‘Alice, you sound as if you don't want it to be a baby. What's the matter? You said you were longing for a family.'

‘Not in the middle of trying to move! Mother, for God's sake, I want to get Ashton ready. How can I do it if I'm pregnant and being sick as a cat?'

Phoebe didn't argue. Alice was obviously upset, poor child. Remembering how ill she'd felt herself, Phoebe sympathized. But there was more to it than that. It wasn't just the house and the upheaval. Alice wasn't pleased at all. ‘Alice, is there anything the matter?' Phoebe said.

The denial was too fierce and too quick. ‘Matter? What are you talking about? Everything's just wonderful – we've got this wonderful house and everything's going so well. All I want is to get on with it and not be hampered …'

She lit a cigarette. She wished her mother would go. I can't tell her. I can't confide in her because she just wouldn't understand. She let my father walk all over her and never said a word against him. And I don't want to make her unhappy. She'd worry and she'd ask me about it every time I saw her. She smiled. ‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘I didn't mean to be sharp. I guess I felt sick and it's all a bit sudden, if it is a baby. Don't worry, darling. I'll be fine … I've an appointment with Harris tomorrow morning. I'll call you as soon as I know. Now let's have lunch. I want you to come to Partridges with me this afternoon. They've got a set of chairs that would look wonderful at Ashton.'

‘I can't have it,' Alice said. ‘It's impossible.'

‘Mrs Vandekar, I'm afraid that I don't understand. What's impossible about your having a baby?' Dr Harris was polite, but his expression was unfriendly. What was she saying, this rich, spoilt young woman in perfect health? Impossible? He sensed what was coming.

‘I can't have a baby at this particular time,' Alice said flatly. She could feel his hostility. ‘We're moving, with major renovations to be made. I'm fully committed for the next six months. I've got to be free to carry out those commitments. For my husband's sake, as much as anything.' She was angry and frightened, so her attempt to sound pathetic failed.

‘There's no commitment higher than motherhood,' he said. ‘If your life was in danger or there was a genuine risk to your health, I might listen to you, but you're extremely healthy and strong and you should have a very easy pregnancy. All you need to do is be careful for the next few weeks. After that, you can get on and do up your house and lead an active life.'

‘I don't want it,' she said. ‘I want you to help me.'

He moved his chair back and got up. He was still very polite. ‘I'm sorry,' he said. ‘I don't give that kind of help. But please don't hesitate to call on me if you're worried about anything. And do try to look forward to it. I know so many women who'd give anything in the world to be in your place, Mrs Vandekar.'

Alice stood up. ‘I wish they were,' she said. ‘Thank you, Doctor. Good afternoon.'

It was cold and wet outside – dull winter weather, depressing the spirits further still. I don't want the baby, I'm not going to have it … why should I? I don't want to be sick and fat and housebound. Oh God! She cried in the car on the way home.

Be careful for the next few weeks or else. She saw Hugo's hat and stick on the hall table. She didn't want to face him. He knew nothing about it, and he was not going to know anything, in case …

She ran upstairs. Where was Lily? She had to talk to someone. She went down the passage to the ironing room.

Lily was pressing her evening dress. She looked up, saw Alice's face and stopped. ‘What's wrong? Aren't you well, madam?'

Alice leaned against the door. ‘You know damned well I'm not. Leave that, will you, and bring me a cup of tea.'

Lily cleared the cup away. She had made Alice lie down and taken off her shoes. ‘You mustn't upset yourself,' she said. ‘It won't do any good.' The philosophy of endurance came naturally to her. Pregnancy, poverty, sickness – these were part of life for Lily and Lily's family. You put up with it and did the best you could. And children were a blessing. Some children, at any rate. No good saying that to her lady; not while she was in this mood. ‘I'll get you another cup,' Lily said. ‘Then you have a rest before your bath. I've to finish your dress, remember.'

‘To hell with the dress,' Alice said. ‘And I don't want tea. Lily, what am I going to do? That damned doctor wouldn't help me.'

‘Help you do what, madam?'

‘Get rid of it.' Alice pulled herself up. ‘That's the last time I'll go to him! If you'd heard him – there's no higher commitment than motherhood!'

‘That's because men don't have the babies,' Lily remarked.

Alice looked at her. ‘Lily, you don't know anybody do you?'

Lily went red. ‘No, madam, I don't! What, have some back-street abortionist sticking knitting needles into you! I've a good mind to go and call Mr Vandekar.

‘You do that and you'll be out on the street in five minutes flat!'

‘Not five minutes,' she answered. ‘It takes longer than that to pack, madam.'

‘Oh, shut up, Lily!'

‘Yes, madam,' Lily said. ‘I'll come back when I've pressed that dress. You'll have your bath at the usual time?'

Alice turned away. ‘Yes. You're not going to say a word about this to anyone. Nobody is to know for the time being. We're going down to Ashton next week and start the ball rolling.'

Lily knew when to argue and when not. Now was not the time.

‘Yes, madam,' she said. ‘You can rely on me.'

‘You're wearing yourself out,' Hugo told her. ‘You look absolutely exhausted. I insist you come back to London.'

‘No,' Alice said. ‘I'm perfectly all right. If I leave now, things will just grind to a halt. Christmas was what made me tired.'

‘Alice, if you won't think of yourself, then for God's sake think of the baby. You've been told to rest.'

‘Oh, I'm so sick of being told to do this and do that, and Lily nagging me and mother telephoning and now you! Nothing can hurt the baby. It's just ridiculous making all this fuss. Do get me a drink and stop badgering me.' She turned away from him angrily. Nothing can hurt the baby. Right up to three months she'd run up and down stairs, soaked in hot baths, exhausted herself at Ashton until the decorator she had engaged had walked off the job saying she was giving him a nervous breakdown. But nothing went wrong. The morning sickness stopped, the baby remained firmly growing inside and refused to be dislodged. When she told Hugo he was delighted, and drove her mad by fussing. He wanted the child, of course. He talked about a boy as if the sex was not in doubt. They had spent Christmas in Sussex with his mother and that weedy brother Phillip in that terrible cold, ugly monster of a house. Everyone gave her presents and gushed over her. She grew larger and ill-proportioned and the baby kicked her in the stomach at night and woke her up. She was bad-tempered and demanding. She sacked Lily, who refused to take her seriously, so she sacked the builders, who did.

Yet Ashton grew, even as the baby grew. Except that as she became uglier the house became more beautiful. Walking through the rooms, seeing the plans become a reality, Alice recovered her spirits. She even found a kind of tranquillity. The house was nearly ready and, in spite of everything, it was under nine months. The last set of curtains were hung, the pictures and furniture in place.

Hugo drove down from London. He put his arm around her. They walked from room to room. Through the magnificent hall, into the long green drawing room – that was her masterpiece, she thought, that lovely airy spacious room with the Gainsborough portrait hanging at one end, where the light caught it.

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