The Talisman (32 page)

Edward smiled, he knew the man had hardly given him a moment’s thought, but it was now coming up to the time for tipping, and he wanted to ingratiate himself.

‘Well, I’ll be off, sir, all shipshape, thank you very much, sir.’

Edward didn’t even turn his head to thank the man. The door closed and shut out the sound of his muttering. He opened the letter. It was from Harriet, and the energetic loops and coils of her handwriting reminded him of her. It was misspelt and full of underlinings and double underlinings for emphasis:

Edward thought about replying to Harriet’s letter. He had not spoken to Allard for months; they passed each other without any acknowledgement. As he had made up his mind to take up BB’s offer of work, Edward booked a passage on the seaplane to South Africa. This made a considerable dent in his mother’s legacy, but he still had the gold cigarette case and lighter.

The pieces of furniture and the paintings from Charlie’s attic that Edward wanted to keep were crated to be put into storage. He packed his personal belongings into his trunk, discarding a few articles that were very worn.

All around him the students were hell-bent on preparing for the ball. Hotels were booked, girlfriends and fiancées began to arrive by the train load to be ready for the big night. Edward kept himself busy completing his packing. He would be in Southampton the night of the ball and, even if he had contemplated staying for it, forking out the one pound and ten shillings for the tickets was, he felt, a waste of his cash.

‘You leaving before the big bash, sir? Well, that is a rum thing.’

The gatekeeper inspected Edward’s list of instructions for the things that were to be picked up. His trunk he would take with him.

‘Going somewhere nice, sir?’

Edward smiled, and said airily that he was going to see friends in South Africa.

He walked one last time along the river. He had to see Emmott and a few other tutors before he left, but basically it was over, and he wanted one long, last walk.

‘Edwaaaaard! Edwaaaaaard!’ It was Harriet, wobbling alarmingly on a bicycle. He knew it was her not just by the bellowing, but the long red hair that streamed out behind her. She was wearing a printed summer dress, and had tucked the skirt into the leg of her knickers so it wouldn’t catch in the spokes. Her skin was lightly tanned, her long legs bare, and she was wearing brown leather sandals. She careered up to him and he caught the handlebars to stop her.

‘Gateman said you were walking this way so I borrowed this, no idea whose it is, but he must be a very tall chap, I can hardly reach the seat.’ She had grown taller herself, and must have been at least five foot eight in her flat sandals. But it was as if there had been no time since their last meeting, she was as familiar with him as if they had parted only yesterday.

‘Said you were about to leave, thank you very much, not even a word to me . . . My, you are even taller than I remembered.’

He tucked her hand under his arm, he could say the same for her, she was almost as tall as her brother.

‘What’s gone on between you two? I mentioned your name and I thought he would throw up . . . Oh, look, a mallard!’

She dropped to her knees on the river bank and stared at the duck. ‘You two have a falling-out, did you?’

‘No, not a falling-out, more just sort of going our separate ways.’

‘Well, he is a bit odd . . . Ahhh, look, more ducks – I love ducks, I once had a nanny, and she used to take me to Regent’s Park to feed the ducks, lovely woman, with terrible BO, but she knew all the ducks by name, well, the ones she’d given them to.’

They walked on, arm in arm. Harriet chattered to begin with, then she went quiet and they walked together in silence until they came across a floating, empty punt.

‘Shall we capture it? Go for a punt?’

Edward reached out with a stick and pulled the punt towards them, looked around for a pole, but there wasn’t one.

‘We’ll just float along, let it take us where it wants, come on, get in . . . Where are you going, anyway? Why are you leaving before the ball?’

Edward said he was going travelling. Harriet lay back and hitched her skirt up so the sun could get to her legs. ‘Ma says I shouldn’t sunbathe because my freckles’ll all join up into one dark red-brown blob, but I love the sun . . . Where are you travelling to then?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘I haven’t cut my hair, you will note, it’s now much longer and the front is growing again. You know Pa has been made Chief Justice Simpson now? He swans around, very puffed up, he’s so proud of himself.’

Edward kept his distance from her at the far end of the punt, watching as she trailed her hand in the water. She filled him in on all the family news. ‘The Van der Burges have gone on a world cruise, then they come back and go home, thank the Lord. They really were becoming part of the fixtures and fittings . . . BB consumed most of Pa’s stock of brandy and never replenished it, which infuriated him.’

The sun was getting hotter and hotter, and Edward closed his eyes, the cool, slight breeze off the river was delicious.

Harriet pointed to an ice-cream seller on the bank. ‘Oh, have you any money on you? Come on, paddle over, I’d love a cornet.’

They paddled with their hands and Edward handed her sixpence. She waded into the water, and with wet dress and sandals she marched up on to the bank, coming back carrying two dripping cornets. She climbed back into the punt and Edward pushed off from the bank.

They fell into silence again as they drifted on down the river. A few punters passed them, shouting as they poled on.

‘I am being made to go to Switzerland, did I write and tell you that? Finish me off, and then I return to be paraded around town for my “coming-out” . . . Crikey, I loathe them all, I really do.’

Edward sat up and tossed the cornet end to the ducks. He leaned on his elbow, smiling at her. ‘What do you want to do, Harry? Really do with your life?’

She finished her cornet, not giving a crumb to the ducks. She had ice cream all round her mouth, which she wiped off with the back of her hand, and licked the trace from her lips. ‘You wouldn’t like it if I told you.’

He tapped her foot and told her to go on, he wanted to know. She bent forward and took one sandal off, laid it on the seat beside her then did the same with the other one. He leaned forward and tapped her bare foot, asked her again to tell him what she was going to do with herself, what she wanted out of her life.

‘Okay, I would like . . . One, for you to take me into a big, white, soft bed, really thick and squashy, one that you sink into . . . I would like then to have four sons, all of them as tall as you, all of them a criss-cross of our looks, two with reddish hair, two with your black, black hair, but all with your dark eyes . . . Then I would like to live with you and our sons on a big farm, like abroad somewhere, maybe South America, somewhere where there is hot sun, wild animals roaming, a few horses, my own stables, a cook, because I hate cooking . . .’

She was lying stretched out, legs bare, eyes closed and her hand trailing along in the water, causing miniature whirlpools to form and disappear. ‘What about you, Edward, any of that take your fancy at all?’

He shaded his eyes and looked at the river bank because he couldn’t think of anything to say. He had a lump in his throat, and he swallowed hard. The punt banged into the bank, and Harriet reached up to a hanging branch of a willow tree to hold the boat beneath it. He could see the glint of the sun on the thin gold bangle she wore.

‘Course, you don’t have to reply, make any decision immediately . . .’ She tossed her head back and laughed, her hair flying around her, and fell back into the punt, legs in the air. She continued to laugh as he moved along the punt on all fours, leaned over her and looked down into her freckled face. ‘You, Harry, are as mad as a hatter.’

She wrapped her arms around him and looked up into his face.

‘You will never have anyone love you as I do, they will all be older, experienced and boring, but you can have me untouched by any other human hand . . .’

He kissed her nose, but remained hovering just above her, looking down into her upturned face. ‘What if I don’t want you? What if I have other plans for my life that do not involve a lunatic?’

The big, blue eyes filled with tears, brimming over, and she whispered, very low, ‘You will break my heart.’

Edward moved back and sat on the seat. He rubbed his head. ‘Harry, I have to go away to find some work. I have no money, nothing to offer you, and added to that you are still a kid with romantic notions you’ve got out of some magazine.’

She threw water at him and drenched his shirt. ‘Bollocks, I am not a kid, as you put it, I am sixteen years old, you are just making excuses. I’ll wait, I’ll wait for two years, but I won’t wait any longer . . . Ma will have a fit, Pa will have a heart attack, especially if he’s laying out all the cash for my coming-out, but . . .’ She looked at him, she wasn’t joking, she said it softly, so earnestly, it was touching. ‘I’ll wait for you, Edward.’

She toyed with the branch, and the willow shuddered above her head. Then she let it go and sat up, looking at him very seriously, very straight-faced. ‘Only, you’ll have to give me something, something so that I know you’ll come for me, I don’t want letters, just your word . . .’

Edward pushed at the bank to make the punt move, but it remained stuck by the willow. ‘I can’t give it to you, push from your end, come on, Harry, push it away.’

He leaned out and pushed, the punt turned and he fell towards her, landing with his head in her lap, between her legs. He lifted his hands and held her tightly, pressing his face against her, and she folded her arms around him and bent to kiss the back of his head, then wriggled until her body was beneath his, and he let her. Knowing he was mad, knowing he must be out of his mind, he remained lying on top of her.

The punt drifted off down the river, and they lay wrapped in each other’s arms. Content to hold him close, Harriet lay quiet, made no move. Slowly, gently, he pushed her skirt back until he could feel the edge of her knickers, grasped them and began to ease them down. She kissed his head, his hair, with soft, sweet kisses. ‘What should I do? Tell me.’

His voice was husky, she could feel his breath on her face as he said, ‘Nothing, nothing . . .’ and she rested her head against his, so happy she wanted to cry. She had dreamed of this moment, dreamed it so many times she felt she needed to pinch herself to prove that this time it was really happening . . .

She knew he had undone his trousers, she could feel him now . . . he pressed her legs apart, and as if he were afraid to look at her, he turned his head away as he gently eased himself into her . . . At last he kissed her lips, and found them as rounded and soft as her thighs, her breasts, and his kiss hardened as he moved inside her, gripped her tightly, thrusting himself into her until the boat rocked in the water . . . She moaned, and he looked at her face, in anguish that he had hurt her . . . but she smiled, her face so filled with love he felt himself wanting to weep.

He was so caring, pulling up her knickers, straightening her skirt, and she did up each fly button on his trousers. They lay close and he promised that he would come back for her, gave his solemn oath that he would be back and give her four sons.

‘I don’t want a girl, Edward, not a girl, they are such pests.’

He laughed and cuddled her, said she was the only girl he wanted, and she was right, four sons would be perfect.

They bumped into an empty, drifting punt and retrieved the pole. Edward poled the boat back towards the bridge, towards the town. ‘Harry, you must never tell anyone what we’ve done today, your father would come after me with a shotgun.’

She wagged her finger at him and said he had better keep his promise then. He helped her jump on to the bank, and as he was tying up the punt, he heard a sports car careering across the bridge.

‘Oh, damn it, here comes Allard.’

Edward looked towards the bridge as the bright red car screeched around the corner. ‘Go to him, go on Harry – no goodbyes, no nothing, just go . . .’

She turned back only once, then she ran towards the red car, waving her sandals above her head. ‘Allard, whooo hoooo, Allard!’

Edward heard Allard shouting, asking where the hell she had been, they had all been looking for her. Then Edward heard the car turn and drive back over the bridge. She sat at the back, he saw her turn, give a small wave . . . and with her red hair flying out behind her she was gone in the little red sports car.

George thundered up the worn, lino-covered staircase and rushed into the bedsit. ‘Now then, Alex, I got some good news for you. This bloke I work for, right, I’ve told him all about you, said you was good at bookkeeping, an’ he wants to meet wiv yer. It’s a real job, with wages.’

Alex asked George if he was sure the man was straight, as he had to report to his probation officer every week.

‘I got it all worked out. He knows you done time and he still wants to meet you. He’s honest, Alex, a real nice bloke – you can at least try it.’

Suddenly George stopped and looked around the small flat. ‘Oi, what you been doin’, you moved everyfink.’

‘It was untidy, I just cleaned it up and put what we don’t need away. I hate mess.’

George sniffed and checked his things, discovering that Alex had allocated space for each of them in the drawers, places for shoes, shirts and jumpers.

‘Hey, just don’t make it too tidy, don’t wanna be reminded of the cells, like. But it’s nice.’

‘I’m going to get some paint, see if I can clean the walls – it’s that wallpaper, makes me go nuts.’