Wanderlust (30 page)

As Audrey walked into the front hall of her grandfather's house and the butler quietly closed the door, she was aware of a ruckus in the upstairs hall, and she noticed a stack of boxes and trunks waiting at the foot of the stairs. And then suddenly, she realized that her sister was standing watching her from the library doorway. It was the first time they had seen each other since their unpleasant encounter right after Audrey got home, and Audrey looked at her cautiously now, wondering what she was doing there, and if she were leaving on a trip with that huge stack of bags, and then suddenly, with a sinking heart, she knew what had happened.

Is something wrong?

Harcourt left me.

Audrey nodded, not surprised anymore by anything, but only puzzled by what Annabelle was doing there. She was still deeply disappointed in her sister. Then why are you here? Her tone told a tale of sorrow that Annabelle did not understand, and wouldn't have cared about anyway. Besides, she was too wrapped up in her own problems.

I didn't want to stay in Burlingame. I hate that place.

Did you try the hotels? Audrey sounded bitter as she spoke, and Annabelle looked startled.

This is my home too, as much as yours.

Did you ask Grandfather if you can stay here?

No. His voice reached them. Neither of them had realized that he was at home. She did not.

Would you care to explain that to me, Annabelle? They both suddenly felt as they had as children, when he caught them doing something they shouldn't. Audrey wondered if she had been unduly harsh, and Annabelle knew she should have called before simply arriving.

I ' I tried to reach you this morning, Grampa, but '

That's a lie. He looked at her with severe annoyance. At least have the good manners to tell the truth. Where is your husband?

I don't know. I think he went up to the lake with friends.

And you've chosen to desert him?

I ' It was awkward explaining it all to him in the hall, but he showed no inclination to ask her to sit down. He said that he wanted a divorce.

How amenable of you to grant it to him. Do you realize that you are under no such obligation? She nodded.

But I ' .

You want out? He put the appropriate words in her mouth and she nodded. I see. How convenient. And now you come home to me, and your sister, is that it, Annabelle? She blushed faintly and nodded again. For any particular reason? The address perhaps? ' the excellence of my staff? ' the advantages of a house in town ' or perhaps because your sister oversees your children so well? He knew her well and Audrey almost laughed at Annie's obvious discomfort.

I ' I just thought ' maybe for a little while ' .

How little, Annabelle? A week? Two? Less perhaps? He was enjoying his effect and Audrey almost felt sorry for her sister. Almost. But not quite. She no longer merited a great deal of pity. She was too unkind and too spoiled, she drank too much, and she was too often openly vicious. How long do you intend to stay here?

Until I have a house?

Don't ask me, tell me ' very well then. Until you find a house. I agree to let you stay here, but see to it that you find one. He glanced at Audrey as soon as he said the words and saw the triumphant look on Annabelle's face. And see to it that you don't impose unduly on your sister. They were wise words, the only problem was that Audrey and Annabelle did not share the same interpretation of unduly.

Within the next two hours, she had managed to park both of her children in Audrey's room. Little Winston was attempting to destroy all of her books, and Hannah had been dumped in Molly's crib, and the hostess had just bitten the guest in the toe and drawn blood, much to Annabelle's horror.

Chinese gutter brat! she screamed, and without further ado, Audrey slapped her. One good, hard crack across the face, which was exactly what she needed. And she was slightly more subdued after that, but it was five o'clock before Audrey could close her bedroom door and get some rest, and think about what had happened with Charlie. It was difficult to believe she had seen him only a few hours before, and as tears fell on her pillow, she wondered if she would ever see him again. It seemed very unlikely. And suddenly realizing what it meant, and that she was trapped now in her life with her grandfather and Annabelle, she began to sob, thinking of the man she had lost and knowing that he was gone forever. Her eyes were still red when she went down to dinner that night, and no one noticed. Her grandfather was lost in his own thoughts, and Annabelle regaled them all with ugly tales of Harcourt's infidelities, and by the time dessert was served, Audrey actually felt ill. And the next few months were a nightmare. None of the nurses Annabelle hired ever stayed. They detested Annabelle, and her children were hardly more endearing. The other servants resented the new arrivals and the extra work they made, and Annabelle was constantly out, and always leaving Audrey saddled with her children.

Even her grandfather seemed to find it all wearing, and he took less and less interest in little Molly, who had given him so much joy only months before. But now almost nothing seemed to bring him joy. And Audrey felt unequal to cheer him. Her own heart seemed to drag daily, and only Molly brought her any comfort. All she could think of was Charles. She had attempted half a dozen letters to him but threw them all away. What could she say to him? Nothing had changed. Nothing was ever going to be different. And now, to add to her miseries, Audrey was afraid that her grandfather was failing. He paid no attention to politics anymore, seldom read the paper, and never went to his club for lunch. Audrey mentioned it to Annabelle several times, but she didn't seem to notice. She was far too busy going out with her own friends and every single man in town. She had gone to the opera house several times, all the chic restaurants, several dances, and she didn't want to hear about her grandfather, or her sister, or her children.

Look dammit, Audrey was losing patience with her by Christmas Eve, when she announced that she was going out with friends, and didn't have time to dine with her grandfather and Audrey. You could at least spend an hour with him, Annie. Don't forget, there was ice in her voice that had never been there before, he supports you.

So what? He doesn't have anyone else to support, does he? And he supports you too. You spend time with him. You have nothing else to do. She had nothing but contempt for her older sister. She had been there taking care of her all her life, and she didn't see why things should be any different now. She was an old maid anyway, wasn't she? And no man would want her now, now that she had saddled herself with that stupid Chink baby. She didn't make any bones about it to her friends, she had even insinuated more than once that the baby might be Audrey's. But Audrey didn't care. She loved Mai Li as though she were her own baby, and she didn't give a damn about local gossip. She was only sorry to see Annabelle ruin her life, whoring around, but no amount of lecturing or entreating seemed to reach her. She was determined to waste her life on weak men and strong drink, and Audrey had given up trying to change her. She was a spoiled, unpleasant girl, and Audrey had Mai Li to cling to now. It hurt her to see the way Annabelle lived, but she realized that there was nothing she could do about it, and she admitted to herself now that Annabelle had always been spoiled. Only the drinking and her recent excesses had made her worse. But it saddened her to see it. The divorce was a bitter one, and Harcourt had appeared at the house more than once, raging against Annabelle and her lawyers. Her grandfather instructed the butler not to let him in anymore. He was usually drunk when he showed up anyway, and he instigated ugly scenes between himself and Annabelle, neither of them making much sense, but throwing lamps and pieces of jade was something her grandfather would no longer tolerate, he told Audrey.

I'm sorry you have to put up with it at all, Grampa.

I suppose I should buy her a house somewhere. he sighed, but I'm too old to worry about it now. And I'll be gone soon anyway. You and she will both own this house when I'm gone, and it's certainly big enough for both of you, and your motley crew of children. he smiled. He was leaving them joint ownership of the Tahoe house too, and Audrey wasn't very sure of the wisdom of that. She would have much preferred to live elsewhere alone, and not share anything with Annabelle, who was certainly no pleasure to live with. But she didn't say anything to her grandfather about that, except to chide him for saying that he would be gone soon, but she was afraid he might be right. He had lost considerable weight in the past few months, and he was beginning to sleep all the time. She had to rouse him now to take his daily walk, and most of the time when she and Mai Li came in to see him before dinner, or in the early afternoon, he was sleeping. Mai Li was walking now, and teetering on tiptoe as she careened across the room, her hair still standing straight up, and her eyes wide with delight. On Christmas Eve, Audrey had dressed her in red velvet, with a tiny red satin bow in her silky black hair, white stockings and tiny black patent leather shoes. It was a long, long way from Harbin, where she had been born, as Audrey looked at her with pride and handed her to her grandfather. Little Hannah was already asleep in her bed, and Winston had been taken back upstairs by the maid in disgrace, after breaking a crystal decanter and his great-grandfather's composure. The other two children still had no nurse, and Audrey took care of them most of the time, since Annabelle was never there. He looked at Audrey now, with Molly, as everyone now called her, on his knee.

Where's your sister tonight, Audrey? I believe she went to a dinner at the Stantons. How unusual for her to be out. he said sarcastically and knit his brows as he looked at Audrey. You ought to do something more with your life than baby-sitting for her brats all the time, Audrey.

She'll get things sorted out eventually, Grampa. But she no longer believed it herself. She was going to have to put her foot down, but she hadn't wanted to cause any problems in the house. It made him nervous whenever that happened. Most things made him nervous these days, the doorbell, the phone, the sound of cars outside. He complained about everything moving too quickly, and everything being too loud, in spite of the fact that he was slowly losing his hearing. But he remembered a far gentler world, and suddenly all of the changes around him upset him. Audrey reassured him as much as she could, and she had her hands full keeping him happy and well cared for. It was more difficult now to find people to work in the house, people weren't as desperate as they had been a few years before, and they preferred to work in factories or stores. They didn't want the restrictions of working as domestics. And more than once now, Audrey found herself scrubbing a wall, or beating a carpet, or using the Hoover in the rooms that she lived in. But there was no sign of that now as she sat in a dark blue silk evening gown, beside the fire, on Christmas Eve, as Edward Driscoll was dozing.

She sent the baby upstairs to bed, and they sat that way for a long time, as she sipped a glass of sherry, and thought back to the previous year, when she had been in China, singing Christmas carols with the children in the orphanage. Thinking of them brought Charlie to mind again, and she wondered if he was already in Egypt. Her heart was heavy just thinking about him, but she knew now that it was over. She had taken off his ring months before and put it carefully in her jewel box. She had had a Christmas card from James and Vi, and they didn't mention him at all. They only said that they hoped to see Audrey again in 1935, and urged her to come and visit them in Antibes the following summer. She would have liked nothing better, but with her grandfather slowing down she couldn't imagine leaving him for the summer.