Familiar Rooms in Darkness (37 page)

He glanced at his watch, and decided he'd had enough of the animal fair, anyway. Unlike Leanne and Emma, he could only spend so long looking at baby chicks. He caught sight of Compton-King's unmistakable tall figure near the judging ring, and went over.

‘Listen, I'm going back to the house. I left Megan there – she's rather off-colour and I feel bad about leaving her on her own.'

‘OK.' Compton-King gave a nod. ‘See you later.'

Adam walked the half-mile or so back to the house, thinking about the biography. He was at the point now where he longed to be back in London and getting on with it. He was grateful for the time and distance which this trip to France had lent him. He was able to see now that any misgivings he'd had about the family's reactions to his revelations had been entirely misplaced. It wasn't his business to worry about Cecile and Briony and the rest of them. Or even Bella, come to that. Harry had lived his life without scruples, and that was the way Adam had to write it. There should be no absolution for fathers who deceived, evaded responsibilities, tried to lead lives that didn't belong to them – Harry, Len, his own father…
What was it Tolstoy had said? ‘The one thing necessary in life, as in art, is to tell the truth. Truth is my hero…' Not the easiest of principles by which to live.

He came in view of Montresor, and tried to shake off the seriousness of his thoughts. High-minded notions apart, in purely commercial terms he was on to an absolute bloody winner with this biography. He couldn't afford to leave anything out. He was still debating whether he was going to use Frank's story about the boy in India, unsubstantiated as it was, and one to which there might be many sides. Harry himself had never mentioned it, and there was nothing about it in the journal which he had kept, on and off, during his time in India. Adam had been able to track down only one of the various young women who'd formed part of Harry's household in Simla, and she'd never mentioned any boy. She still seemed to regard Harry with devoted reverence, so maybe she wouldn't want to remember any such incident. Still, it was worth talking to her again. And to Frank's brother; that would have to be arranged.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, Adam crossed the orchard and went up the stone steps to the annexe and opened the door. It was a moment of acute embarrassment, particularly for Bruno and Megan, who were entirely naked, but too strenuously and intimately involved to notice Adam's presence immediately.

‘Oh, bugger,' said Bruno, when he saw Adam standing in the doorway.

Megan just looked at him. It crossed Adam's mind that she looked the sexiest he had ever seen her, naked, hair all over the place, in bed with another man. He felt neither
outraged nor upset. Just surprised and rather stupid. He had absolutely no idea how he ought to be reacting, so he decided not to.

‘I just came to get a couple of things,' he said, going over to the table and picking up some of his papers, while they watched him wordlessly from the bed. Then he went out, closing the door behind him, and walked back towards the house. He stopped on the terrace, aware of the unpleasant thudding of his heart. Of course he cared. It was a supremely nasty experience to find your girlfriend in bed with some other bloke, even if it was Bruno, and even if you had been intending to end the relationship anyway.

He put his things down on the table near the pool and sat down. After several moments of contemplating his own position, he began to wonder just what was going through Megan's mind. How would she deal with this? He sat with his notes, unable to formulate any of his previous thoughts about the biography. They had fled entirely. He watched a small lizard scuttle up the white-washed wall of the house near the roses, then disappear behind the shadow of a shutter. He looked up as Megan approached. She was wearing Bruno's shirt over her bikini, and her expression was remarkably composed, he thought.

‘I didn't want you to find out this way,' she said. The note of apology in her tone was edged with the threat of defiance. She was ready for a scene, if he wanted one. He most definitely didn't.

‘How did you want me to find out?'

‘I was going to tell you. It's only over the past week or
so that I've realized – well, you know yourself that things haven't been right between us recently.'

‘So you decide to hop into bed with the nearest available man?'

‘That's got nothing to do with it.'

‘I'm afraid it has.'

‘These things happen.'

‘How true.'

‘I wasn't going to say anything until we got back to London. Nothing happened till today. I didn't want it to. Not till I'd told you.'

‘Quite convenient, you feeling unwell and wanting to stay behind, when everyone else was going out.'

She was silent for a few moments, then she sighed and sat down. ‘If you want me to feel ashamed – well, all right, I do. I didn't know how to let you know, not while we were here… I thought you might pick up the signals.'

He looked at her. She was handling this very dispassionately, quite unexpectedly so. ‘I did,' said Adam. ‘I was going to say something as well when we got back to London. I hadn't quite realized you'd be making a preemptive strike.'

‘I told you. Nothing happened till today. Nothing important.' She sat with her hands clasped between her bare knees, looking contrite. He could read relief in every aspect of her body language. ‘Bruno says he's going back to London. I think it's best if I go with him. We can get a taxi to Bordeaux. I'll ring and see if there's a flight this afternoon.'

‘That's very organized of you. What would you like me to tell Bella?'

‘I don't know. Just thank her for a great time. I'll send her some flowers or something when I get back to London. You know, to say thank you. It'd be embarrassing if either of us stuck around…'

‘It might,' agreed Adam.

She stood up. ‘Right… I'm sorry, things happening like this. I'll move my stuff out of the flat when I get back.' She hesitated, looking down at him. ‘We had quite a good time, didn't we?'

‘Not bad. We should congratulate ourselves on ending things in such a civilized way.'

She smiled shakily, looking a little moist round the eyes. Adam was not unfamiliar with the female inability to leave any break-up untouched by sentiment. A kind of emotional embroidery carried out at the last moment. To forestall it, he looked back fixedly at his notes and said, ‘I'd go and ring the airport, if I were you.'

When she was gone, he fell to wondering what exactly she would expect of Bruno once he was back in his natural hedonistic environment. Not too much, he hoped, holiday romances being what they were. Then again, he told himself, it simply wasn't his problem.

The others came back around mid-afternoon. No one noticed the absence of Megan and Bruno. Adam, however, thought it best to mention to Compton-King that his protégé was heading back to London.

‘Surprised he stayed as long as he did,' said Compton-King, who was lounging in a chair beneath an umbrella by the poolside bar. ‘Doubtless his stash ran out. At least he got some proper food and a dose of Vitamin D. Boy
generally never sees the light of day, so far as I can tell. I'll have to be getting back myself, in a day or two. Mucho business to attend to. What about you?'

‘I've done what I came to do. Ready when you are.'

‘What about Megan? She seems to be rather enjoying herself.'

‘Ah, well… Here's something I didn't mention. She's flown back to London with Bruno.'

Compton-King raised his sunglasses. He gave Adam a penetrating and inquisitive stare. ‘As in –?'

‘As in – I went to the annexe to pick up some papers and found them in bed together.'

Compton-King gave a low whistle. ‘God, I'm sorry. I was the one who brought him along. I do feel somewhat responsible.'

‘Don't. It was pretty much over between us, anyway.'

Compton-King settled his glasses back on his nose. ‘Randy little bastard.'

‘It takes two.' After a moment Adam asked, ‘So, when do you want to go?'

‘Where are we now? Sunday? What about Tuesday?'

‘Fine. I'll go and give Bella advance warning.'

Bella was in the hammock with her script. She glanced up as Adam came across the grass.

‘I like this one,' she said. ‘It's a good part. Not very big, but it's a step closer to Hollywood.'

Adam sat down on the grass. ‘Is that what you want?'

Bella let the script flop on to her chest and sighed. ‘I suppose. Ultimately. I'd be lying if I said I had a great
and abiding love for the English theatre. That's not my particular pose. I like being in movies.'

‘What's the part?'

‘Girlfriend of a small-time drug dealer. The drug dealer becomes a police informant, but she doesn't know this, and – well, it's complicated, but quite funny. As I said, a small part, but it's got some good lines.'

‘So you'll be off to Hollywood.'

‘I don't know. We'll have to see.'

Adam lay back on the warm grass and gazed upwards, narrowing his eyes against the sunlight breaking through the shifting leaves. ‘Megan and I have split up. She's gone back to London.'

It was several seconds before Bella spoke. ‘That was a bit sudden.'

‘Not so very. I told you, we hadn't been getting on for a while.'

‘Did you have a major row?'

‘No, nothing like that. It appears she's found true love with Bruno–'

‘Bruno!'

‘–so they've flown back together.'

‘Whew.'

‘She says goodbye and thank you and all that stuff. Anyway, it breaks the party up somewhat, and I've decided to head back with Compton-King on Tuesday.'

Bella put her script to one side and leaned over the edge of the hammock, so that she was looking directly at Adam. ‘It's been fun having you here. I'm sorry you have to go so soon.'

‘I've finished my article. I have to get it in by the end
of next week. Besides, I need to do some work on the biography. I want to see your stepmother and tie a few loose ends together, and then I can start turning it into a proper book. I still haven't talked to you about your father, not properly. Nor Charlie. Maybe that's best left till we all get back to London.'

‘Oh, I don't know. Now is probably as good a time as any to tackle Charlie. He's been having heart-to-heart talks with Derek, exchanging childhoods. I'd catch him while he's in confessional mode, if I were you. You'll have all tomorrow.'

‘You could be right.' He glanced at her. ‘What about you?'

She crinkled her eyes. ‘I think I've probably told you all there is to tell, one way or another.'

‘I still need to get it on tape.'

She nodded. ‘I was thinking – would you be interested in having all the letters he wrote me while I was away at school, and while he was in prison? There are quite a lot of them.'

‘I had no idea. Yes, I'd love to see them.' He hoped she didn't have the idea that there might be some sort of trade-off, that he might submit to pressure not to publish certain details of Harry's life in return for a few letters, interesting though they might be.

‘Just so long as you tell me which bits you're going to use, if any. Just so that I know.' She smiled. ‘I do trust you.'

To this, Adam found he could say nothing.

The next day Charlie sat down with Adam at one of the small tables on the lawn beneath the trees and talked
about his father. It was unexceptional stuff – childhood reminiscences, recollections of teenage holidays with Harry, occasional incidents and arguments between father and son. Adam knew he would use only fragments by way of illumination of Harry's character as a father, but he could tell from the way that Charlie talked that the exercise was greatly therapeutic for him.

‘It's funny,' said Charlie, when they seemed to have exhausted most of his memories, ‘but knowing that I'm adopted throws light on some of the things Dad did, the way he was… At least, I think it does. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it makes no difference. He was never very authoritarian, never particularly paternal, in any strict sense. Treated us like equals. Maybe that's why my friends liked him so much. He used to spend a lot of time talking to them. He liked me to invite them over in the holidays.'

‘Really?'

‘He seemed to enjoy having teenagers around, said he found our conversation amusing. There was one friend in particular, James Gifford. His people lived in Venezuela, so he used to spend most half-terms with us.'

‘Where was that?'

‘At Gandercleugh. Bella and I spent Christmas, Easter and half the summer holidays with Mum, and the rest of the summer and all our half-terms with Dad. He really liked James. I remember I had to spend one half-term in hospital with appendicitis, but he invited James down for the holiday on his own, anyway.'

Adam told himself not to be so damned stupid. It could have been nothing untoward. Just friendly behaviour
towards one of his son's friends. None the less, he found himself saying, ‘Have you kept in touch with James? It might be interesting to hear what he remembers about Harry.'

‘I haven't seen him since we left school. I'm sure I could put you in touch with him, though.'

‘That might be interesting,' said Adam.

Bella strolled across the lawn. She was wearing denim shorts and a linen blouse so thin that Adam could trace the outline of her breasts. She smiled at Adam and Charlie. ‘You realize you've been out here for two hours?'

‘It's been very useful,' said Adam. ‘I think we're about done.' He leaned forward and switched off the tape.

Charlie rose and stretched. ‘I'd better go and find Claire. See you later.'

‘Bye,' said Adam. ‘And thanks.'