Red Anger (28 page)

Authors: Geoffrey Household

On the fourth day after Tessa had gone I had at last a wire from London:

‘Staying at the Ritz drop everything and come: Eudora’

I sent my reply and left—after pleading illness in the family, since I wanted to be sure of getting my job back when I returned. My kindly employer, who must have quietly noticed my
melancholy, told me I’d never have to look for a job so long as he was in business and I should cheer up and not worry. Cheer up I could not, but his words at least gave me back some
self-confidence.

The Eudora I now met was a woman I had never known before. At Molesworthy I could not think of her as anything but pure English in her tastes and manner of living, but now in London she looked
the American
grande dame
, dressed all in black—the only and very private sign of her mourning. The air of decision and the humorous eyes were the same as ever and yet authority and
distinction were more evident. Heads turned in curiosity about her as she crossed the foyer to meet her shabby friend.

She did not use words to put me at ease. She gathered me up and kissed me like a son. I was in her world again. I had no other, and it was still there for me.

As soon as we were up in her room I asked her how Tessa was.

‘My poor Willie! I sent you Tessa so that you could comfort each other. But I should have known you are both too young and too straight.’

‘She was so cold.’

‘What did you expect? That Tessa would throw her arms round you and scream “Thank God you’re safe”?’

‘Where is she?’

‘I have persuaded her to go back to London and her friends.’

‘But she has changed. She has grown out of all that.’

‘Yes, dear Willie. So she will be sure at last where she belongs.’

‘At Molesworthy?’

‘Never at Molesworthy. For many reasons I cannot bear it any more. I am going back to America.’

I asked her why and she replied that she had no other duty any longer.

‘When I was young, I was in revolt against the exploitation of the helpless,’ she said. ‘Now that I am growing old, I am in revolt once more—against all the conduct we
are accepting, Willie. The plain citizen is no angel. Never has been. But if we allow his moral sense to waste away, we’re going to have a culture of devils where no man can trust
another’s word or hand. Such money as I have will be used to stop the rot.’

And a very formidable opponent she would be, I thought, always a law to herself in friendship or vengeance.

‘But I shall leave one sound investment here which Alwyn wished—a farm in our west country with the most reliable tenant I can find. That happens to be you. It’s a straight
business transaction, Willie. You won’t have learned anything about farm tenancies in Romania, but they’ll become very familiar to you after a year’s training here. You’ll
pay me rent because you’ll have to, and it will be lent back to you for the few years that you are likely to need it. That’s settled. Now, tell me calmly about his death.’

It was easier this time to relate the whole story of our journey and the Wansdyke, for she understood every facet of Alwyn’s character, even that defenceless side which he concealed from
Tessa.

‘Was it suicide, Willie?’ she asked.

‘No, never! He was like the warrior he dreamed of. He wanted to kill, not to die. But if it cost him his life, he didn’t care.’

‘His own justice,’ she said. ‘Sometimes when one defends what one loves there is no other way.’

‘And Rachel? Where is she?’

‘I don’t know. The last time I went to see how she was getting on I found only Sack.’

‘Sack?’

‘He must have crawled into the derelict when I brought her food. There was only a foot or two of water and I was so frightened of the boat being stranded on the mud that in the hurry I
never noticed he had gone.’

‘But if Rachel was alone with Sack in the dark she would have jumped out!’

‘I am very much afraid that may have happened—and she would not know that one had to slack off the mooring to hit hard bottom.’

‘She didn’t yell for help?’

‘She must have hoped to escape quietly. Perhaps she went on expecting to find her feet on something solid till it was too late.’

‘Sack is all right?’ I asked after a pause.

‘In the best of health, dear. But he is not fond of hotels. I shall leave him with you till I have a home. Afterwards, later, Tessa too. And, Willie, among those presences of your England,
remember Alwyn!’

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Drew Padrutt

978-1-4532-9390-4

This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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