‘You’re too thick-skinned,’ remarked Jack, bending over the puzzle. ‘Bags I put in Joanna Lumley’s crutch. I’ll get it,’ he said as the telephone went.
‘Darling, how are you,’ we could hear him saying from the hall. ‘So sorry I missed you the other day. Why didn’t you pop in?’
‘I think this is a bit of Steed’s bowler hat,’ said Maggie.
‘Who is it?’ I whispered.
‘Well, we know her name’s “Darling”,’ said Maggie.
‘No, she’s being marvellous,’ Jack went on. ‘Kept us all in fits. She’s out with Ace at the moment, flying the kite. He bought her the most fantastic fox puppet back from the States. Yes, he thinks she’s terrific.’
Maggie stiffened, and her hand moved slower and slower over the puzzle, ears on elastic. It must be Fay on the other end.
For at least a quarter of an hour Jack had a very leisurely gossip about the family, Copeland, the Admiral, and Pendle having been up for the weekend. I didn’t dare look at Maggie. Jack
must
be still tight, or he’d never have made such a meal of it.
I glanced round. He was lounging on the hall chair, his feet up on a table, smiling into the telephone, utterly relaxed.
‘When do you want Lucasta back?’ he asked eventually.
There was a long pause. Maggie unseeingly shoved a bit of Steed’s umbrella into the sky.
‘But that’s marvellous,’ Jack went on enthusiastically. ‘That’s a real break. I’m
so
pleased for you, darling. Until Thursday? Of course we can. No problem. No don’t worry about that; we’ll have her birthday party here. We’ve had enough practice for Christ’s sake. You can’t possibly organize it if you’re working. Maggie’s got nothing to do.’ Maggie clenched a pile of sky up in her fist. ‘And Ace is here, and Pendle’s girlfriend Pru. She’s been ill, but Lucasta adores her and she’ll be on her feet by then, so there’s only my dear Mother to rot things up… You’ve booked a conjuror? Well tell him to come here instead, we’ll pay the petrol… Of course we will, it’ll be fun, don’t worry about a thing. If you get away early on Thursday, come to the party. I know Ace’d love to see you… OK then and good luck, darling.’
Maggie got up and poured herself a drink. Her hand was shaking so much she spilt most of it. Her green eyes blazed. She looked like the Queen in Snow White, and as quite as capable of cutting out Lucasta’s heart.
Jack wandered into the room, looking pleased with himself.
‘Well, well, well,’ he said.
It was extremely unwell. I wanted to hide under the sofa.
‘I suppose you want a drink,’ said Maggie softly.
‘You read me like a book,’ said Jack. ‘Rather a bad one admittedly.’
He was still tight.
‘That was Fay,’ he went on. ‘She’s got a small film part at the beginning of next week.’
‘Playing the back of the pantomime horse, I suppose,’ said Maggie.
‘So I said we’d keep Lucasta here.’
‘For how long?’ These words were dropped like pebbles into a deep, deep pool.
‘Until Thursday night. It doesn’t matter if she misses school.’
‘And who’s going to look after her?’ said Maggie.
Jack filled his glass. ‘Why you are, darling. It’ll do both you and Lucasta good to have some time together with me out of the way.’
‘I’ve got things to do. Tomorrow, Tuesday
and
Thursday.’
‘Well you’ll have to cancel them and think of someone else for a change,’ said Jack sharply, picking up the sports page. ‘Oh sod it, United lost again.’
‘I should have expected it of Fay,’ said Maggie belligerently. ‘Trust her not to give anyone any warning.’
‘She’s only just heard about the part,’ protested Jack.
‘Oh, very likely on a Sunday afternoon! She’s just bloody inconsiderate.’
Jack went on reading the paper. ‘What have you got against her? She’s never done you any harm.’
‘Oh yes she has,’ hissed Maggie. ‘She divorced you. If she hadn’t, I’d never be saddled with you now.’
Still Jack didn’t look up.
‘There’s an extraordinary story here,’ he said to me, ‘about a woman who’s trying to get a crossing for toads on the Preston Motorway.’
‘Don’t bug me,’ screamed Maggie. ‘It’s a pity you’re not married to her if you think she’s so wonderful.’
‘I wish I was,’ said Jack quietly.
‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘Don’t say that, please don’t. You’re both pissed. You’ll regret it later.’
‘You keep out of it,’ yelled Maggie. ‘
You
haven’t been behaving like a vestal virgin since you came up here.’
Then the explosion came. Jack threw down the paper and got to his feet. ‘You spoilt little bitch,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve never done a bloody stroke in your life. You’re lousy at housework, you can’t hold down a job, you can’t organize the builders, or even remember to pick up a suit from the cleaners. The only thing you show any talent for at all is writing cheques, and bitching about my first wife. But you’re so bloody jealous of her you can’t even be civil to my child.’
‘Your child is a monster,’ howled Maggie.
‘Leave her out of it.’
‘How can I? You asked her to stay on.’
‘It never enters your thick head, I suppose, that if Fay gets work
I
won’t have to work so bloody hard to keep her in alimony. But you wouldn’t think of that, would you? You’re so wrapped up in yourself, you never give a fuck what I do.’
‘And I suppose old Fairy Fay did.’
‘Yes, she did. She loved me.’
Maggie was very white around the mouth.
‘Why did you leave her then?’ she screamed.
‘Christ knows,’ said Jack.
‘I’ll tell you why. Because you were bored to death with her and she was no good in bed.’
‘She was a bloody sight better than you, if you want to know.’
Maggie gave a little gasp.
I put my head in my hands.
‘At least she didn’t just lie back and think of Pendle,’ said Jack viciously.
There are things that couples should only say to each other in bedrooms, when they get a sort of sexual kick out of seeing who can hurl the worst insults, knowing the battle will end up in bed.
‘Stop it,’ I screamed, ‘Stop it.’
Jack took no notice.
‘Just for four days out of your useless life,’ he went on, ‘you’ve got the opportunity to do something useful, to create some kind of relationship with Lucasta and you reject it.’
‘And if I’m lucky,’ hissed Maggie, ‘I get a conjuror to help me on Thursday. What’s all that about? You bastard. So that old bag was better in bed than me was she? And I have to act as Nanny to her flaming child. Well I won’t do it.’
‘I’ll be here,’ I said miserably, ‘I’ll look after her.’
‘Oh darling,’ said Maggie, turning her fury on me. ‘Ace wouldn’t hear of
that.
We can’t have his precious patient having the tiniest set back.’
‘Oh shut up,’ I shouted.
The door opened and in came Lucasta.
‘Daddy, my tooth’s come out, so that’s 50p from the fairies, and we lost the kite up a tree. Ace is still trying to get it down.’
‘Jesus,’ said Jack. ‘We’re now welcoming world listeners.’
I fled upstairs, trembling. I couldn’t bear it. Maggie had said awful things, but Jack had bugged her by that deliberately provocative telephone conversation, and afterwards he’d said far worse things than she had. Matters may have come to a head too. But I could see that their relationship was like a hydra. In a few hours it would have grown a dozen more heads.
I did my teeth and collapsed into bed. Oh the blissful welcome of cool, plumped pillows and smooth, turned-down sheets. The fire had been banked up, the water jug filled, and a new spray of winter jasmin put in the blue vase. All my mess of apple cores, books, tissues and sweet papers had been tidied up. Immediately McGonagall landed in the middle of my stomach, all four paws sticking out, tail going straight up in the air. Next moment he dived under the eiderdown, bicycling furiously against my toes.
I lay back on the pillows, still shaking.
The door opened and Coleridge wandered in, followed by Ace.
‘Good girl.’ He walked round the bed examining me as though I was a building site. ‘You didn’t stay up too long? How do you feel?’
‘Fine,’ I said brightly.
‘Liar.’ He put a hand on my forehead, ‘What happened?’
‘Maggie and Jack had a bit of a row.’
‘They were boiling up for it. Might clear the air. What was it about?’
‘Fay’s got a part. Jack said we’d hang on to Lucasta until Thursday, and have her birthday party here. Maggie had a go at Fay and Lucasta. Jack stuck up for them.’
‘A bit too much?’
‘Much too much.’
Ace sighed. ‘Christ, they never let up, do they? What d’you want for supper?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How about some smoked salmon, and a glass of champagne?’
‘Oh God, that’d be lovely.’ Suddenly happy again, I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes. ‘Won’t that give me a complete setback?’
Ace laughed. ‘Probably. I’ve given up.’
‘I liked your piece,’ I said. ‘It was wonderful.’
He seemed surprisingly pleased.
‘But you must be used to people telling you how good you are.’
Ace shrugged. ‘All writers run on flattery; you must know that.’
Coleridge chose that moment to clamber heavily on to the bed, with the kitten swinging for grim death on his tail. Pretending to ignore Ace, Coleridge circled three times then curled up on my feet and closed his eyes with a deep sigh.
‘I may have given up,’ said Ace, ‘but I’ve still got some standards left. Get off Coleridge.’
He won’t be nearly so attractive when his suntan fades, I tried to tell myself.
Chapter Eleven
After breakfast on Monday morning Lucasta wandered into my room, her eyes brimming with tears.
‘My tooth’s still there,’ she wailed. ‘The fairies forgot to come.’
‘Oh poor darling,’ I said, putting my arms round her.
‘And Daddy’s gone off to the office without even saying goodbye.’
She sobbed even louder. I suddenly realized how insecure she was, behind the precocity and apparent sophistication.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Ace appearing in the doorway.
‘The fairies forgot to come.’
‘They’re terribly busy at this time of year,’ he said, ‘helping Father Christmas sort out all the toys. Sometimes they turn up a bit late.’
‘Why don’t you try again tonight?’ I said.
‘Keep her here,’ Ace mouthed to me over Lucasta’s head.
‘That’s a nice nightie,’ I said.
Lucasta sniffed. ‘Can I have a sweet?’
‘It’s a bit early. Would Maggie let you?’
‘Oh Maggie doesn’t mind what I do,’ said Lucasta bitterly. ‘She likes me being naughty, then she can grumble to Daddy.’
She unwrapped the lemon sherbet, dropping the paper on the floor.
‘Shall I draw you a picture?’
‘Why don’t you do one for Maggie?’
‘I hate her.’
‘If you were nicer to her, she might be nicer to you,’ I said. ‘And Daddy’d be so pleased.’
‘Daddy doesn’t like her. He’s always shouting at her. What’s a “slut”, by the way?’
‘That’s enough, Lucasta,’ said Ace, coming back again. ‘For very special people, the fairies work overtime. Why don’t you go and have another look?’
‘All right then,’ said Lucasta, and scampered off.
‘Poor little sod,’ said Ace, ‘too much spoiling, too little attention. Look, I’m going into Manchester today. The BBC want to see me, and I’ve got to have dinner with the Granada people tonight. I thought I might as well kill two birds. Will you be all right?’
‘Of course I will,’ I said quickly. ‘Oh, do look at McGonagall.’
The kitten, having pounced on Ace’s shoe laces, frenziedly pedalling at them with all paws, suddenly shot up his trouser leg, leaving only a ginger tail sticking out.
‘The fairies have come, the fairies have come,’ screamed Lucasta, thundering down the passage. ‘They’ve left me 50p. I must go and show Granny.’
‘You make a lovely fairy,’ I said to Ace, after she’d gone.
‘Wish I could magic up some fairy gold to pay a few bills,’ said Ace. ‘Talk about walking into the valley of Debt.’
It was a relief to joke. I was still dismayed how much I disliked the thought of him going off all day.
‘If you don’t overdo things,’ he said as he was leaving, ‘I’ll drive you down to the sea tomorrow.’
‘Can I wash my hair?’ I said.
‘No, I’m not risking you catching cold.’
I got up for lunch, still feeling very shaky. I was appalled at my appearance in the mirror. I’d lost pounds, and my hair was hanging round my grey little face like damp seaweed. I couldn’t go out with Ace looking like this. I heard voices whispering outside.
‘You ask her,’ I could hear Rose saying.
‘No you ask her,’ said Maggie. ‘It sounds better coming from you. Anyway she seems to rather like children.’
I opened my door. They were in the passage dressed to go out. I felt so pale and drab beside them.
‘Darling,’ said Rose, ‘Mrs Braddock’s going to Bingo this afternoon. She’s been so grumpy recently, I thought she needed cheering up, and Maggie and I are going out to lunch in Ambleside, so we thought you wouldn’t mind looking after Lucasta.’
After lunch Lucasta and I walked down to the village shop to spend her 50p. It was a dull, cloudy day; the lake was as black as satin. Every tree was bare now — December naked. On the way home we walked through the churchyard, sucking humbugs and playing hide and seek behind the tombstones.
‘My Aunt Elizabeth’s buried over there,’ said Lucasta, pointing to a new white tombstone under a willow tree.
‘Elizabeth, beloved wife of Ivan Mulholland 1951–1975,’ I read. She’d been so young. Only a year older than me. On the grave somebody, probably Ace, had laid a bunch of freesias. Oh God, why did everything make me cry at the moment?