Familiar Rooms in Darkness (38 page)

Bella sat down in Charlie's chair.

‘How did that go? Was he forthcoming?'

‘Very. Tell me, did any of your friends spend the holidays at Harry's house when you were a teenager?'

‘Not that I can think of. Why?'

‘Charlie said Harry liked having teenagers around, that he would encourage Charlie to invite schoolfriends to Gandercleugh for the holidays.'

‘Mmm. Sometimes. They were always Charlie's Uppingham friends, though. Dad used to like getting a group of them together to talk about politics and art, get some great heated discussion going. He was always very interested in what young people were thinking and doing. Perhaps he just found boys more stimulating than girls. He never talked much to my friends.'

‘Charlie mentioned one boy in particular, someone called James Gifford. Do you remember him?'

‘Oh, James. Yes, I had a real crush on him,' laughed Bella. ‘He was
very
good-looking, looked just like George Michael. He came to Gandercleugh quite a lot. I think his parents lived abroad. He and Dad got on very well. I remember getting jealous of the fact that James used to go off and have long walks and conversations with Dad, but not with me. Charlie found the politics and art bit rather boring, I think. Why do you mention James in particular?'

It didn't remotely cross her mind, Adam realized. He felt a pang of conscience. ‘Just that I thought he might be someone else to talk to. You know, how a young person outside the family saw Harry.'

‘If you can track him down. I don't think Charlie's seen him in a few years.' She stood up. ‘I'm going into the village to pick up some things for tonight. Richard's cooking a special going-away dinner of
magret de canard
, by the way, and I rather think he expects you to be on hand in the kitchen.'

‘Right, I'll go and don my apron. See you later.'

Dinner, which was entirely of Compton-King's devising and extremely good, went on until very late. Adam, knowing he had to be up early the following day to make the journey home, didn't drink a great deal. He felt a certain diffidence in the company of the others. Megan's abrupt departure with Bruno had left him feeling somewhat self-conscious, and he was more subdued than usual. He was preoccupied, too, by thoughts of the biography,
anxious for the opportunity to talk to Compton-King alone about it. That would come tomorrow in the car, he supposed. He sat quietly, observing the dynamics of the little party, struck by the difference a few days had made. Charlie's abrasiveness had mellowed. His conversation, though boisterous as ever, now included Derek, took account of him, and he and Derek and Bruce seemed to have formed an easy triumvirate. Bella had achieved some sort of rapport with Derek's daughters, and she was making a distinct effort to get on better with Claire. Adam suspected that her original animosity towards Claire had been born out of nothing greater than jealousy that her beloved twin brother had found someone to marry, and no doubt that would sort itself out with time.

Compton-King proposed a toast to Bella and Charlie, and then announced that he proposed to mark his departure with a midnight swim. Everyone else helped to clear up the dishes, then Emma and Leanne went to bed. Bruce, Derek, Charlie and Claire retired to the house for a game of poker, while Frank took himself off to the bar at the end of the pool to drink a nightcap and shout encouragement to Compton-King, by now on his eighteenth length.

Adam left the kitchen and went into the garden, where he found Bella snuffing out the candles on the dinner table. Without their soft illumination the night air was ghostly and dim.

‘I just wanted to thank you, in case I don't see you in the morning,' said Adam. ‘I've had a great time.'

‘Except for Megan leaving.'

‘Up to and including that.'

She said nothing for a moment, just picked at some wax on the table. ‘It's been a strange week,' she said at last. ‘Not at all the holiday I'd expected.'

‘I hope having extra guests hasn't been a problem.'

‘Not at all.' She smiled.

‘At any rate, it's been a success as far as Derek and Charlie are concerned.' Small talk, standing there saying something for the sake of it.

She nodded. ‘I think so. I hope so. I don't know where it goes once we all get back to London. I just hope they both continue to make the effort.'

‘I think they will. I think it's done them both a lot of good.'

‘I suppose we should all be grateful to you, really. You were the one who brought it about, with your spirit of journalistic enterprise. Just think how it might have been if you hadn't found out. Charlie and I could have gone on forever not knowing we had another family, thinking what was false was true.'

‘Would it have been so false?'

‘Of course. Don't you think so?'

‘Well, I have very confused notions about truth at the moment, and its uses. I'm just glad it's worked out for you.' He paused. ‘Anyway, I'd better get to bed.' He nodded in the direction of the pool, from which shouts and splashes could be heard. ‘I have a suspicion that I'm going to have to do most of the driving tomorrow. I'm not sure Compton-King's going to be in a fit state.'

Bella laughed. ‘He's wonderful.'

He gazed at her for a moment, then said, ‘So are you.' He leaned forward and kissed her gently. She responded, putting a hand around his neck and drawing him towards her. It lasted only a moment.

‘Goodnight,' said Adam, and left her standing in the darkness of the garden.

Adam went upstairs, cleaned his teeth, threw his belongings into his bag, then undressed. He took his most recent notes to bed with him and lay there, reading. There was a light knock at the door, and he looked up. Was he expecting her? He wasn't sure. Perhaps it was just the recollection of that first time she had come to his room that made it seem so natural. He watched her come in. Unlike that first time, she was still dressed. She closed the door and leaned against it.

‘Déjà vu,' said Adam.

‘Not quite,' said Bella. She crossed the room, sat down on the edge of the bed, took his notes from his hand and laid them on the bedside table.

‘This definitely rings a bell,' said Adam.

She leaned forward, and he drew her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly and absorbedly for a long time.

When at last they drew apart, she asked softly, ‘Why don't you send me packing? What's so different about this time from the first time?'

Adam contemplated her face, drew a line with his finger along each of her cheekbones. ‘The difference is that I didn't know you before. Though I probably loved you.'

‘Even then?'

‘Even then. From the moment you came into your father's study, and ever since.'

‘I think it took me a bit longer.' She smiled, gazing into his eyes.

She loved him. Every ambiguous moment, every uncertain instant, was made secure in those few words. He kissed her again.

‘Back then,' said Adam, ‘I was worried that I might become just another one-night stand.'

‘And now?'

‘You tell me.' He unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse and slid his hands against the delicious warmth of her breasts, making her shudder.

‘I promise,' said Bella, as he began to undress her, ‘that I'll still respect you in the morning.'

Adam woke at six to the beeping of the alarm on his mobile. Bella lay in the crook of his arm. She opened her eyes drowsily as he stirred.

‘Oh, don't go yet,' she murmured.

‘I have to. Richard wants to make the journey in one day.' He untangled himself gently from her warm embrace and sat up. He gave his head a shake. ‘God, I could have done with a bit more sleep.'

She smiled. ‘Got to make the most of these one-night stands, you know.'

‘Don't make me feel insecure.' He leaned down and kissed her, then got out of bed.

She lay watching as Adam dressed. ‘Do you remember what you said that night I came to your room at Gandercleugh?'

‘Not with any great clarity. I was a bit busy trying to get the better of my natural inclinations, as I recall.'

‘You said you had hoped to elevate me to pedestal status and leave me there.'

‘Did I say that?'

‘Mmm. Did you prefer me as some kind of fantasy?'

‘Hardly. It was fun while it lasted, but the real thing is much better.' He smiled and bent to kiss her. ‘I'll call you when I get back to London.'

Compton-King wasn't easy to rouse, but his bags had been packed the previous day, and he and Adam were in the car by six forty-five, and well on their way to Limoges by nine. Adam was happy to drive, entirely occupied by his own thoughts, while Compton-King lay reclined in the passenger seat, his Panama tipped over his eyes, sleeping off his hangover.

They stopped briefly for lunch then headed off again, this time with Compton-King at the wheel.

‘Not a bad ten days. My batteries feel totally recharged. Must send the lovely Bella a thank-you present when we get back.'

‘I got more work done than I expected,' said Adam. ‘Apart from the article, I got Charlie Day down on tape.'

‘Any startling revelations?'

‘Only inadvertently. Then again, it depends on one's interpretation.' And Adam told Compton-King what Charlie had said about his schoolfriend, using Charlie's words as exactly as he could recall them, and then what Bella, independently, had said. ‘Possibly it was all perfectly
harmless,' concluded Adam. ‘That story of Frank's was still relatively fresh in my mind, though, hence my train of thought. I wouldn't have put Harry down as a molester of teenage boys.'

‘You never know. Honesty compels me to say that I wouldn't put it past Harry. A great man, but not a nice one. Whatever Cecile may think, I don't believe old Harry ever changed his ways. Just went well under cover.' He gave Adam a glance. ‘Can you follow it up?'

‘Charlie's schoolfriend? I doubt it. Even if I managed to track him down, I could hardly ask him if he'd been molested at the age of fifteen, or whatever.'

‘No, I can see that.'

‘And suppose I did find out that Harry had done something like that – where would it take me?'

‘That would depend.'

There was a pause, then Adam said, ‘D'you know what I think?'

‘What?'

‘I think Harry wanted to get the biography underway while he was still alive in the hope that I wouldn't find out these things after his death. That I wouldn't go to much trouble to carry on researching, because he'd given me so much material. For instance, of all the people he put me in touch with, he never mentioned you. I reckon he only gave me the names of people he regarded as safe. Not Cecile, one imagines, but he knew there was no way round that. He must simply have hoped she would want to protect herself as much as him.' He sighed.

There was silence for some moments. Then Compton-King said, ‘I realize now that I never knew the real
Harry. He was an amusing friend, excellent company, but I think I always knew deep down that he simply wasn't much of a human being.' He sighed. ‘I don't know how much you know about the circumstances surrounding Joe's death, Halliwell topping himself, all that horror…'

‘Just what I've read.'

Compton-King nodded. ‘No one knows the truth, of course. No one ever will. But Harry was instrumental. I know that now, looking back. I remember being there on a couple of occasions in the spring of that year, 1967, when Harry did a pretty good job of belittling Kenneth, reminding Joe that he was the real playwright, and Kenneth just a hanger-on. Harry knew how much Halliwell envied Joe's success – even resented it, in a funny way – and worked that up. Mischief-making. Anyone could see Kenneth wasn't well, that he was depressed, but Harry still goaded him. Whatever sense of worthlessness, or envy, desperation – call it what you like – drove Halliwell to do what he did, Harry was part of it.' He turned and glanced at Adam. ‘We're all bound up with other people, all part of their fate, but the fact remains that Harry deliberately damaged people.'

Adam reflected on this for some moments. ‘The question that occurs is whether one's perception of an artist as a moral being alters one's view of their work. You know – Wagner's music, that kind of thing. And the answer seems to be that it does. Whether or not you think it should is neither here nor there, it just does. It's human nature. You can't help it.'

‘And you're worried that if you write the unvarnished
truth about Harry Day, no one will ever regard his work in quite the same way?'

‘Something like that. I don't think he was a monster, exactly. But if you believe that the man and the artist are an indissoluble whole, that the nature of the man permeates his work as an artist, then – well, knowing the truth about him must affect the way people come to regard Harry's work. Which makes writing a truthful biography a big responsibility.'

‘You could stop, if you wanted. You don't have to publish it.'

‘Leaving aside the small matter of repaying the advance, I now feel absolutely driven to publish this book. Nothing matters more to me at the present moment. Not one thing.'

‘Then you have to tell it like it is.'

‘Would you be prepared to explore the Orton– Halliwell thing with me? Go back over the conversations when Harry was there? Let me quote you?'

Compton-King drove for some moments without saying anything. Then he gave Adam a glance. ‘Since you're so determined to do a thorough job – yes. I can't vouch for perfect recall, though.'

Some hours later, the Bentley pulled up outside Adam's flat in Baron's Court.

‘Well driven,' said Adam.

‘And you.'

‘Want to come in for a drink?'

Richard shook his head. ‘I need some sleep. Back to the funky world of music-making tomorrow.'