Wicked Pleasures (87 page)

‘Hallo,’ he said. ‘It’s getting late.’

‘I feel terrible,’ she said, ‘I have a terrible headache.’

‘It’s the champagne,’ he said, ‘and that endless flight. I’m so sorry.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Alexander, no it isn’t. It’s what’s happened, what’s happening. Please try to accept that.’

‘All right.’

‘I’m going to have a bath. Could you get some tea? Some china tea?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ve checked on flights. There’s one tonight to London. I’d like to get it.’

‘So you won’t,’ he said, ‘you won’t come and see St Mark’s?’

‘I don’t think so, no. I’m sorry to have broken my promise. But I have to get away.’

‘I understand.’

‘I’m sorry, Alexander.’

He ordered a water taxi for her, watched her pack her overnight bag. The rest was still in her suitcases and trunks. She felt foolish, oddly ill at ease.

‘Alexander,’ she said, ‘could you – would you – mind waiting for me downstairs?’

‘Of course not.’

He went out. She suddenly felt terribly alone and frightened. More than anything in the world she wanted to talk to someone familiar and close. Her mother. Yes, she would call her mother. It was early morning in New York, she would be pleased to hear from her. She wouldn’t tell her everything, just that she was coming home. She asked the operator to get the number for her. Banks answered.

‘Hallo, Banks. This is Miss – Lady Caterham.’

‘Lady Caterham! How good to hear from you. That was a beautiful wedding, if I might say so. The staff all enjoyed it so much.’

‘Thank you, Banks. Could I speak with my mother, please?’

‘Of course. Just wait a moment, your ladyship.’ She could hear him savouring the last two words.

For the first time Virginia came against the reality of what she was going to have to do. What she was going to have to say. The number of people, the hundreds, the thousands, who would be intrigued, fascinated, whatever she said, whatever story she told, who would gossip, exchange theories, laugh, sneer possibly. It was going to be very painful, very ugly. Well, it was too bad. It had to be done. She had no choice.

Betsey’s voice came onto the phone, breathless, happy.

‘Darling, how lovely of you to call. I was just beginning to wonder about you. How are you, my darling? Oh, that was such a beautiful beautiful wedding. I was so proud, so very proud. And your father – oh Virginia, I have never seen him so moved. Never. Not even when Baby – when you were both born. The last thing he said, when we got into bed last night, was, “I was so proud of her today. So proud of my little girl.”’ Betsey’s voice wavered. ‘Oh darling, I’m sorry, getting emotional at you on your honeymoon. It’s just that – well, how are you, darling? And how is Venice? Are you enjoying it, have you been to St Mark’s yet?’

‘No.’ Virginia’s voice seemed out of sync with her brain, it was unwilling to form words. She cleared her throat. ‘No not yet. Mother –’

‘I suppose you’re tired. You must be terribly tired, actually. Is the hotel nice?’

‘Yes, it’s beautiful.’

‘I’m so envious. I have always wanted to go to Venice. Your father never
would take me. Well, I mustn’t run on too much, Alexander doesn’t want you spending too much time on the phone to your mother, I’m sure. Just so long as you’re all right.’

‘Yes,’ said Virginia slowly. ‘Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.’

‘Good. Well send Alexander our love. And write me the minute you get to Hartest House, I don’t expect anything while you’re in Venice. Goodbye, darling. I’ll send your love to your father. He was having the photographs rushed round to the bank this morning, he said he couldn’t wait to start reliving the day. He said – oh maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, yes of course I should, whyever not, he said it was ten times more beautiful a wedding than Baby and Mary Rose’s and you were a hundred times a more beautiful and charming bride. I tell you, darling, you really have made him very proud. And me. And when Banks came in just then and said, “Her ladyship is on the phone,” well I just had to pinch myself.’

‘You’re such a terrible terrible snob, Mother,’ said Virginia, and in spite of herself she smiled into the phone. ‘Look, I’ll call you again. Soon.’

‘Darling, don’t bother. Unless you want to. ‘You’ll be very –’ she paused delicately –‘very busy. There’s such a lot to see in Venice.’

‘Yes. Yes there is. Goodbye, Mother.’

She put the phone down and looked out of the window. Venice was blurred with tears.

‘Baby? It’s Virginia.’

‘My sister the Countess. To what do I owe this honour, your ladyship? My goodness, Mary Rose is regretting marrying little old me. When she might have been a ladyship too. No consoling her last night, I can tell you.’

‘Oh Baby, don’t.’

‘Sorry. Crass New World behaviour. I suppose over there titles are two a penny. Anyway, you’re in two of the papers this morning, the
Times
and the
News
. And a big piece in Cholly Knickerbocker’s column. You know how we Americans do still love a bit of real blue blood. And
Woman’s Wear Daily
are running a story too, they’ve been on to Mother apparently, asking if they can use pictures of you in your dress and your going away, she’s so excited, she rang Mary Rose to tell her. Big mistake, that. Big. Heavy frost it brought on. I tell you, Virgy, you really are a star here. I just hope England is going to appreciate you as much.’

‘Well – oh, Baby, it is nice to talk to you.’

‘On your honeymoon! Virgy, don’t tell me you’re homesick. Isn’t the gilded Earl keeping you happy?’

There was the faintest touch of contempt in his voice. Against all logic Virginia felt defensive about Alexander.

‘Yes, of course – it’s just –’

‘Darling, I have to go. I’m sorry. Big meeting. Huge. Call me any time. Give my love to Venice. And make sure you go to the Guggenheim, it’s gorgeous, and I am not a culture man, as you know, and of course you have to go to Harry’s Bar. I want you to see it as your personal responsibility to keep the Yank flag flying in Europe. Although you’re half English now, I suppose.’

‘Don’t be silly, Baby, of course I’m not.’

‘Well, bye, darling. Thanks for calling. Lots of love.’

‘Lots of love, Baby.’

She sat icy-still on the bed. She was still there, twenty minutes later, when Alexander came in.

‘Virginia, the taxi’s here. Would you like me to come with you to the airport?’ Virginia looked up at him. Her face was very pale, her golden eyes coolly blank. Then she smiled, a distant, tight little smile.

‘Alexander, I think I may not leave tonight. I’m terribly tired. And hungry. Perhaps we could go out to dinner, I thought Harry’s Bar would be fun, and then in the morning I might after all like to see St Mark’s.’

Georgina, 1985–6

It had been her fault, the whole ghastly thing. Her fault for hurting and upsetting her father so much that it had brought about a breakdown. How could she have done it, how could she, when she loved him so much, far more than Charlotte and Max did, when she and she alone had stayed loyal to him, refusing to consider seeking out some dubious, alternative father – Georgina couldn’t even contemplate the word ‘real’, Alexander, tender, supportive, endlessly loving, was her real father – how could it have been her who had caused him such terrible, destructive pain?

She had sat by him, holding his hand, watching him helpless as he wept, great racking sobs, while they waited for the doctor to come, wishing she was a thousand miles away, that it was she who was enduring this pain, wishing she was dead. ‘I did this,’ she said, staring helplessly up at Angie, who was looking as stricken, as frightened as she was; and Angie had said, ‘No, no, don’t be silly, Georgina, of course you didn’t,’ trying to calm her. But it didn’t help, didn’t make her feel any better, she just kept hearing her own voice telling Alexander he was mad, that she should have realized it a long time ago, and seeing herself running down the steps after Kendrick, jumping into his car and telling him to drive away, not looking back.

Thank God, thank God she had felt so bad, so guilty; otherwise she might have stayed away for hours, all day even; they had driven to a pub and Kendrick had been upset too: ‘Anyone would think I was some kind of a monster,’ he said, staring moodily into his beer, ‘a pervert, what does he have against me, what did I ever do to him?’ And she had tried to comfort him, to calm him, to tell him that it had just been a shock, that her father would come round; and Kendrick had looked at her very strangely and said, ‘But he’s not even your father, not really, so why –’ and she had said, feeling he had hit her, ‘Don’t say that, Kendrick, please. I should never have told you, he is my father to me, I don’t even want to
start
going down that road.’

And then she had begun to worry again, about Alexander, and she had told Kendrick she thought they should go back and he had said there was no way he was going to confront Alexander again, and she had finally said she wanted to go back anyway, and he had dropped her at the bottom of the steps and she had run in and heard the ghastly wailing coming from the gun room, and Angie had come out looking ashen and said, ‘Oh, Georgina, thank God you’re here, your father’s had some kind of breakdown, I’m going to call the doctor, stay here with him, and I’ll find Nanny.’

And she had gone in, and he was sitting there, his head in his hands, crying,
sobbing, and she tried to put her arms round him, and he pushed her away and said, ‘No, no, don’t, don’t touch me.’

And then Nanny had come in, with Angie, looking stern and concerned, but very calm and composed.

‘He’s been doing too much,’ she had said severely, ‘he’s overtired, I knew this would happen,’ and then she had sat down beside him and put her old arms round him and started patting and stroking him, and saying, ‘There there, Alexander, it’s all right, it’s perfectly all right,’and gradually he had quietened and had clung to Nanny, whimpering and sobbing.

‘He’s not quite himself,’ Nanny said, speaking to them over his head, as if they might have assumed that this was the way he often behaved, and Angie had nodded and said no, she could see that; and then Dr Rogers had come in, and tried to talk to him, and Alexander had pushed him away, shouting that he didn’t want any bloody doctors near him; and finally Dr Rogers had given him a shot and suggested they helped him up to bed.

Later when he was sleeping peacefully, Dr Rogers had said, ‘I would say, without knowing very much more, that he’s had a complete mental breakdown. I’ll call in a colleague in the morning. Was anyone with him when it happened?’

‘I was,’ said Angie. ‘I’d been talking to him. He was upset. He’d had a – an argument with Georgina. Isn’t that right, Georgina?’

‘Yes,’ said Georgina, feeling panic rising up in her chest, ‘yes I’m afraid so. I – I –’The room swam suddenly, and she had to sit down.

Angie put her arm round her.

‘It’s all right, Georgina. And then he started talking about Virginia – about Lady Caterham. And gradually he became more and more upset and then suddenly he was crying and then …’ Her face was shocked, strained. ‘I – I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.’

‘You did fine,’ said Dr Rogers, ‘but all that does confirm my diagnosis. Anyway, I’ll ask Dr Simkins to come over in the morning.’

He stood up, closed his bag, walked out towards the stairs. Georgina followed him, so frightened she could hardly speak.

‘Dr Rogers, I have to talk to you. It’s all my fault. All of it.’

Dr Rogers turned and looked at her very benignly. ‘I doubt that, Georgina,’ he said, ‘I really do. You mustn’t blame yourself.’

‘No, but you don’t understand, we had a row, I said the most terrible thing to him. I told him – told him –’ Her voice trailed away. Dr Rogers smiled at her.

‘Georgina, whatever you told him, it couldn’t have done this to him. This is a severe breakdown. The unkindest words – and I’m sure they weren’t that unkind – from a much-loved daughter could not possibly have caused it. Your father has had a lot of strain over the past few years. It hasn’t been easy for him. I would say you’ve been a source of great comfort to him. The others have gone, haven’t they? Left home.’

‘Yes,’ said Georgina. ‘It might have been better if I’d gone too.’ She wiped away her tears on the back of her arm. Dr Rogers smiled at her and gave her his handkerchief.

‘Nonsense. I’m sure it was a very good thing you were here. And that you’re
going to be here in the next few weeks, to help him through this. Try not to worry. He’ll be all right in a little while. You just help Nanny take care of him. Wonderful old girl, she is. You’re lucky to have her. Goodbye, Georgina. Keep the handkerchief. I’ll see myself out.’ He turned and went down the stairs.

‘Goodbye,’ said Georgina, her voice little more than a whisper. She went back into the bedroom.

‘Should I stay?’ Angie was saying. ‘I feel faintly responsible, but I really ought to get back to Baby.’

‘It would be better if you didn’t stay,’ said Nanny sternly. ‘He needs complete peace and quiet.’ Her look and tone implied that Angie would be bringing in a large and noisy party complete with rock band at any moment.

‘Well, that’s fine then,’ said Angie meekly. ‘I’ll get along home. Nanny, would you call me tomorrow when this Dr Simkins has been? Tell me what he says. Or should I be there?’

‘No, that won’t be necessary,’ said Nanny, ‘Georgina and I will take care of him. Won’t we, Georgina?’

‘Yes,’ said Georgina very quietly. She set aside any hopes of seeing Kendrick before he left next day. She felt that if she had to devote the rest of her life to looking after her father it would not be penance enough.

Dr Simkins pronounced Alexander to be suffering from a severe breakdown and acute depression, probably suppressed for years since Virginia’s death; he said he should be admitted to a private psychiatric nursing home for a few weeks until he began to improve. Since then Alexander had seen two other psychiatrists and shown some signs of the promised improvement; he had been moved home at the suggestion of the second, with a full-time nurse, and was at least more relaxed. In the nursing home he had been possessed by an appalling restlessness, and had paced his room all day and most of the night, sitting intermittently in his chair and staring blankly in front of him. Georgina had gone with Nanny to see him twice, and so had Charlotte and Max, but he had hardly seemed to recognize any of them, sitting silent while they tried to talk to him, make him smile, even show any emotion at all.