Wicked Pleasures (89 page)

‘Well now,’ said Kendrick, pulling the car to a halt in a gateway on a particularly pretty lane. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Georgina, deliberately misunderstanding him. ‘Go for a walk maybe. I had much too much champagne. I’ll tell you what I’d really like to do,’ she added, smiling at him, thinking how infinitely sexy he looked, in his striped trousers and black waistcoat, his morning coat discarded, his white shirt open at the neck. ‘I’d like to go to bed with you. Well, there doesn’t have to be a bed. Right now, if we can find somewhere.’

Kendrick lifted his hand, and pushed it into her hair; his eyes seemed to bore into hers, wide, dark with love. ‘We’ll find somewhere,’ he said and leant forward and started to kiss her, very slowly, very lazily. Georgina returned the kiss, gently at first then with increasing intensity; she felt desire growing, burgeoning in her like some strong living being. Tamed, restrained by the past months, by grief, by guilt, by loneliness, it had finally broken free, was demanding release; she pulled away from him, her face solemn, intent.

‘I mean it,’ she said, ‘I can’t wait,’ and smiling, he opened his door, walked round and took her hand, pulled her out, and with his eyes still fixed on her face, led her into the woods. She stumbled a little, in the high heels she had
worn for the wedding, tripping over small roots, curling fronds of bracken; impatiently, she pulled them off, walked in her stockings, smiling up at Kendrick, a confident, reckless smile. They were deeper into the wood now, and the dusk was growing thicker, almost misty. ‘Here,’ he said, smiling, ‘here is a bed for us,’ and just below them a small hollow lay, filled with new bracken and great sheets of bluebells.

She ran into it ahead of him, smiling too, and sank onto the ground, holding out her arms to him; the last thing she remembered saying as the sweet all-consuming hunger took possession of her was ‘We shall crush the bluebells,’ and he said, ‘Fuck the bluebells,’ and then all she knew was his body on hers, warm, heavy, hungry too, his hands everywhere, on her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her buttocks, and then her own body arched up to him, welcoming him into her, and as he entered her, she felt a sweet rich triumph, a sense of absolute pleasure and joy, and even while she moved, gave to him, while her whole being ebbed and flowed, rose and fell, she was able to think, to know, to feel quite clearly that this was not how it had been before, and might never ever be again.

When it was over, when finally they were quiet, lying there on their brackeny bed, smiling at one another, awed, almost frightened by the depths, the heights, they had travelled and accomplished, Kendrick pulled his jacket over her, folded his shirt under her head, and said, ‘I love you, Georgina. I want you to be my wife.’

And Georgina looked up at him, courageous suddenly, joyful, strong, and said, ‘I want it, Kendrick. I want it too.’

They went back to Watersfoot, and crept in the back door, aware that no one seeing them could fail to know what they had been doing. Angie and Baby were up in their room; nobody else seemed to be there. Kendrick disappeared and came down with towels, jeans, jumpers, ‘And two pairs of rather male briefs, I’m sorry,’ and they went into the shower together, next to the utility room, and stood in the thudding water, and made love again, thoughtless, careless suddenly of who might find them there, and then they got dressed, Kendrick made them both mugs of tea and she sat in the den just looking at him and loving him, and not doing anything at all except thinking of pleasures past and the great happiness hopefully to come.

In the morning, Baby was unwell; they had been going to talk to him, to tell him their news and their plans, but Angie said he had a chest infection, that the doctor had said he must be kept quiet. She looked extremely tired, almost dazed; Georgina said that she should go back to Hartest and see Alexander, and asked Kendrick to come with her. Kendrick said he would stay; that maybe his father would like to see him later. Angie seemed grateful.

Later in the day, Baby was worse; a specialist was called, he was given more drugs, there was talk of hospital. Kendrick’s voice on the phone was heavy; Georgina was frightened, angry almost, that the happiness that had been granted to Baby should have been so short-lived, so tantalizingly tenuous.

But next morning he seemed better; by the afternoon he was sitting up and shouting at everyone, and, desperate for some time together, Georgina and Kendrick fled to London, leaving everyone in the country, and spent a wonderful twenty-four hours in Eaton Place, scarcely leaving the bedroom before Kendrick had to go back to New York to take his final examinations.

Less than a month later he came back, and the nightmare began.

He phoned Georgina from Heathrow; she was in the kitchen with Mrs Tallow, helping her make pastry. Alexander was in London; she often thought afterwards how her entire life might have worked out differently if he had been at the house.

‘Heathrow! But Kendrick, you’re in New York.’

‘No, Georgina, I’m not in New York. I’m at Heathrow. I just told you. Separation from me has obviously affected your brain. Is there any chance you could come and meet me?’

‘Of course, of course there is, I’ll come straight away, but I’ll still be nearly two hours, I should think. Oh, Kendrick, how lovely, how lovely. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. In the arrivals area. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

Georgina’s white Golf GTI tore up the M4 at a steady 110 without thought for speed limits, the police, or her own safety. Due entirely to the good offices of her guardian angel who was clearly working overtime on her behalf, she reached Heathrow in under ninety minutes.

Kendrick was waiting for her, lounging against a pillar in the arrivals hall; he was wearing a camel greatcoat and a slouch hat. ‘You look like Dick Tracy,’ said Georgina, kissing him.

‘You don’t look a bit like Breathless Mahoney,’ said Kendrick, kissing her back, ‘but I never did like blondes anyway.’

‘That lets me off one big worry.’

‘Can we go straight to bed when we get home?’

‘Absolutely straight.’

‘Thank God for that.’

‘How’s your dad?’ asked Kendrick. He was looking very solemn, lying in the old-fashioned white iron bath in Georgina’s bathroom. She had had it moved down from the nursery bathroom, when Nanny had had it modernized and put in what she called a sweety in avocado green.

‘He’s OK,’ said Georgina cautiously. ‘He’s in London for a few days.’

‘Better? He must be, if he’s in London.’

‘Yes. Better. But not well. Not really. The psychiatrist says we have to be very careful. Not cross him, not let him get tired. He’s funny, his mind seems to have slowed down. It’s hard to explain, things take a long time to get through. But once they do, he’s fine.’

‘Good.’

‘Uncle Baby isn’t any worse,’ she said, ‘I saw him last week. He was in good
spirits. He and Tommy had found a whole batch of new games. I don’t know what they’d do without each other, I really don’t. You mustn’t let on, specially not to Charlotte, but I quite like Tommy.’ She was aware that she was running on, that she was nervous, anxious to postpone the moment when he began to try and discuss their future.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I quite like him too. What I’ve seen of him.’

‘Does your father know you’re here?’

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Aren’t you going to tell him?’

‘Well,’ said Kendrick, ‘it depends.’

‘On what?’

‘I’ll tell you. How are you finding it here, nursing Alexander?’

‘Depressing. Boring. But you know I have to do it,’ she added warily. ‘For the time being.’

‘The time being is dragging on a bit, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe a bit. Kendrick, what is this? And why exactly are you here?’

‘I’m here to carry you off. To my enchanted castle. Aka my new loft conversion on the Upper West Side.’

‘Is it gorgeous?’

‘It’s gorgeous. Huge rooms, huger windows, all light and white, overlooks the park.’

‘It sounds perfect.’

‘No it’s not quite perfect,’ said Kendrick.

‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘You’re not there.’

‘Oh.’

‘Georgina, darling, I do truly admire your devotion to your father, or rather to Alexander, and we will come to that in a minute – don’t look like that Georgina, please –’

‘Kendrick, you know very well that as far as I’m concerned Alexander is my father. I love him, he’s been perfect to me all my life, and I simply have no interest in finding anyone else. And I don’t care if he’s Mr Wonderful, like Charles St Mullin, or if he’s Mr Nightmare, like Tommy. As far as I’m concerned, it’s Daddy, and he is Mr Perfect, and that’s that. I wish I’d never ever told you about it.’

‘Fine,’ said Kendrick. His face made it very clear it wasn’t.

‘Well anyway, what were you going to say?’

‘I was going to say that I thought it was my turn.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Georgina, I love you, I’ve asked you to marry me, you’ve said you would, and I’ve waited what seems like a long time.’

‘But Kendrick, what about Uncle Baby –?’

‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m quite sure we should give him the pleasure of seeing it happen. And I want you living with me in New York. I’m going to be working there now and you’re not working here, and it seems crazy. I was thinking about it last night and how crazy it seemed, and I just got on the
plane and came to tell you. That’s why I’m here. I think we should get married very simply and very soon, over here, and then move to New York. I know Dad’s ill, and everything, but he certainly wouldn’t want us hanging around here waiting for him to – well, that’s what I think.’

This was a very long speech for Kendrick; Georgina sat listening to him, staring at him as he lay in the bath, her expression very distant. ‘I see,’ was all she said.

‘Well, that’s not a very passionate response. I thought you’d be racing off packing, buying a bridal gown, all that sort of thing.’

‘No you didn’t.’ The flat voice matched her expression.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You didn’t think that at all. You knew I’d argue, that I wouldn’t be able to come.’

‘Georgina, what do you mean, you wouldn’t be able to come? Of course I didn’t know that. I wouldn’t be here if that was the case.’

‘Because you know I have to look after Daddy. I have to.’

‘Georgina, listen. Your father, unlike mine, is actually perfectly fit and well. He may live for another twenty years. Probably will. Are you going to stay here with him all that time?’

‘No of course not. But he’s had a breakdown, Kendrick, and it was at least partly my fault, and he’s in a very vulnerable state. There’s nobody else here, except Nanny and Mrs Tallow, to look after him. And besides the psychiatrist said we mustn’t – force him. Make him face things he doesn’t want to face. I can’t leave him, I can’t.’

‘For how long can’t you leave him?’

‘Well – until he’s better.’

‘And how long do you think that might be?’

‘Well – I don’t know. Maybe a few more months.’

‘But it’s already gone on for months. It could become years. Am I to stay there all alone in New York indefinitely waiting for you? Because it doesn’t seem a very happy prospect, Georgina. I just might not be able to do it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I might have to rethink. I might feel you didn’t love me enough to marry me. I might feel that coming second to your father was not very satisfactory. You must surely see that, Georgina.’

Georgina faced him. She felt very frightened, but she was not going to give in, not going to be intimidated.

‘I’m sorry, Kendrick, but that’s what I have to do. I can’t fail him. Not now. He needs me.’

‘I need you.’

‘He needs me more.’

‘Well in that case,’ said Kendrick, ‘I think I may as well get straight back to New York. It’s very sad, but I don’t see any alternative. Pass me that bathrobe, would you, Georgina, and maybe you’d be good enough to check on flights out tonight.’

Georgina passed him the robe. She watched him in silence as he wrapped it round him, reached for his clothes; his face was a fearsome blank.

‘You’re not serious, are you?’ she said.

‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Absolutely serious.’ He looked at her with something close to dislike in his eyes. ‘I love you so much, Georgina, so terribly much, I can’t remember a time now when I didn’t love you. But love needs nourishing, tending. It can’t grow on without any encouragement at all. My love for you is being starved to death. Unless you do something about it it’s going to die. For the last time, Georgina, are you going to come with me? We could be so happy.’

‘No,’ she said, ‘no I can’t. Not yet.’

‘Then,’ he said, ‘I think we had better forget all about it, don’t you?’

She drove him all the way back to Heathrow. Stony-faced, silent, unreproachful.

‘Goodbye,’ she said when they got there.

He looked at her, raised his hand, touched her cheek.

‘Goodbye, Georgina,’ was all he said.

And then the long journey back, without him, and for the first time since she could remember, no tape to listen to with his voice on. As she turned into the Great Drive, in the darkness, Georgina finally began to feel the pain, began to cry; by the time she was at the house she was sobbing, loud, desperate, racked sobs. She flung herself through one of the side doors, ran up the stairs into her room, slammed the door. For what seemed like hours she lay on her bed, crying, thinking of Kendrick, of the long time they had loved one another, of how much she loved him, dazed by the speed with which it had ended.

Half the night she cried. She heard three strike on the stable clock and then four before she was aware of time at all; and she was lying exhausted on her bed, unable briefly to cry any more, when the door opened slowly. ‘Georgina?’ said a voice. It was Nanny.

‘Oh Nanny, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?’ said Georgina, sniffing loudly, groping for a tissue.

‘Hard to do that. I hadn’t been to sleep,’ said Nanny. ‘What is it this time, Georgina?’ She sounded cross; Georgina gave her a watery smile.