Holding On (47 page)

He raised his eyebrows at Sin, who nodded significantly. ‘Coffee?'

‘Definitely,' he said, coming in and chuckling at Kit's pained expression. ‘That was a really good thrash, girls. I should come to your parties more often. Pity I've got to go back down to Hampshire or we could all have gone along to the pub for some hair of the dog. That would have set you up in no time.'

Kit shuddered artistically. ‘Please,' she begged. ‘Be content with the knowledge that all night I've suffered what I believe you call the whirling pits. My bed has rocked and heaved relentlessly through the long watches of the night. Let that be enough for you. Just drink your coffee and go.'

‘I was hoping to see Clarrie before I dash off,' said Hal, accepting his mug gratefully. ‘Sound man, Clarrie. He's had the most amazing life.'

‘Don't believe everything he tells you,' warned Kit darkly. ‘He's a skilled liar, like most men, and he'll stop at nothing to cause a sensation or win sympathy. No lie is too outrageous, especially when he's had a bit to drink.'

‘Quite right, too,' said Hal comfortably. ‘Never let the truth get in the way of a good dit, as we say in the Navy. Hell, is that really the time?'

‘I'm late.' Sin put down her mug and flitted away.

Kit sighed with mingled anguish and relief. ‘Thank God I haven't got an office to go to,' she murmured. ‘It's crazy to give a mid-week party but she would have it. Do you really have to dash off? Aren't you on leave?'

‘I am,' he agreed, ‘but I must get back.' He hesitated. ‘Sorry to bend your ear last night. It was just such a relief to get it all off my chest.'

Kit looked at him properly. ‘Don't give it a thought,' she said lightly. ‘I'm sorry though . . .'

‘If only I could be certain that it was right for Edward it wouldn't be so bad but it's gone too far now. Maria and her mother have completely brainwashed him so we must just pray that he'll cope.'

‘And you'll move to Salisbury?'

He hesitated. ‘I think we'll have to. Like I said last night, it's Jolyon that's really worrying me. Obviously nothing's going to happen just yet. We don't want to disrupt their schooling any more than we have to but we'll have to be in Salisbury ready for the new school year. I know it's five months away but we must start looking at houses soon. Jolyon's going to have to know what's in store for him.'

‘Poor Jolyon.' Kit finished her coffee and switched the kettle on again. ‘Ooh, my poor head. So who's going to tell him?'

Hal looked grim. ‘Maria's shirking it. I told her that since it's her decision she should do the dirty work but actually part of me doesn't want her to do it. I'm afraid she'll just blurt it out. She loves Jolyon, don't get me wrong, but she doesn't have the same sensitivity towards him as she does towards Edward. To do him justice he could be making much more mileage out of it than he is, poor little chap, but even so, old Jolyon's taking a real back seat. It's going to be even worse when he hears that he's going to be packed off to boarding school. The trouble is that Maria has become totally tunnel-visioned over this choir school business. She can see and think of nothing else. It's so vital to her that other people's feelings have ceased to exist, even Edward's. She honestly thinks that it's important enough for everything else to go by the board.'

‘Sounds like Miles over this Hong Kong business.' Kit made more coffee. ‘Honestly! How can he possibly have imagined that Fliss of all people would want to upsticks and emigrate to Hong Kong? Like Maria he simply got totally carried away by the whole idea.' She glanced at her brother. ‘Better not mention it to anyone, by the way. I don't know how much of a secret it is at present.'

‘Sure.' Hal nodded reassuringly. ‘I must say that I agree with you. It seems impossible but having seen Maria over this business I know how single-minded people can get. They want something so much that it becomes inconceivable that everyone else doesn't want it too. Poor Fliss.'

‘And as for not even telling her about it.' Kit snorted. ‘It's outrageous. But then he's always behaved as if he were her father. This time, however, he's overstepped the mark. She's absolutely determined not to go.'

‘What will she do?'

Kit shrugged. ‘She hasn't got that far. Poor old Flissy. Oh Hal . . .'

‘Don't,' said Hal. ‘We did that bit last night when we'd both drunk too much.'

‘She's just trying to work through it at the moment,' said Kit gently. ‘I'm sure she'll tell you about it.'

‘Yes,' said Hal. ‘Yes, I'm sure she will. Actually, I might be seeing her soon. I've got a vague plan about Jolyon. There's an open day at the school for Edward during the Easter holidays and I'm wondering whether I might leave it to Maria and take Jo down to see the ship in Devonport. Perhaps try to break the news to him during the course of the day and spend a couple of nights at The Keep? What d'you think? The twinnies will be home and I thought I might ask Fliss to tell them the situation and then drop in to see them while we're down there . . .' He gestured impotently. ‘Oh hell, I just don't know how to deal with it.'

‘That sounds a great idea,' said Kit. ‘Honestly. The twinnies will boost Jolyon's confidence and make him feel that it will be fun. After all, he's often been down to Herongate with you to see them, hasn't he?'

Hal nodded. ‘If Maria hadn't been so set against it I think he would have been quite happy to go a couple of years ago when Bess and Jamie started. Now, of course, she can see that it's an obvious way out but she's said such awful things about boarding school that it's rather embarrassing for her to eat her words.'

‘He's only got to look at the twinnies to see that it isn't awful,' Kit pointed out comfortingly. ‘It'll be OK. And he'll be thrilled to be taken down to see
Broadsword
all on his own. But, Hal, make sure he sees Fliss and the twinnies at The Keep, not at that house in Dartmouth. And warn Ma and Caroline. It's a brilliant idea and I'm sure it'll work.'

‘Bless you.' He smiled at her and glanced at his watch. ‘I really must go but I'll be in touch. Thanks, Kit . . .'

‘Think nothing of it, little brother,' she said casually. ‘We also serve who only stand and wait but don't think I haven't noticed that everyone's dashing off and leaving me with the washing-up.'

He hugged her, laughing. ‘Will Clarrie be up if I go to say goodbye?'

‘Definitely,' said Kit. ‘He has a head of iron and will have been out with his dog at dawn. Tell him I shall expect to see him shortly to help with the clearing-up but tell him that if he values his life it would be foolhardy to ring the bell.'

They parted amicably, Sin and Hal leaving together, and, feeling a little more human, Kit trailed away to her bedroom to get dressed. Her headache was subsiding but she felt depressed. On several occasions during their lives Hal had unburdened himself to her, seeking advice and sharing his fears, but never before had she seen him quite so angry as he'd been last night. It was clear that his anxiety was as much for Edward as for Jolyon, fearing that his younger son wouldn't be able to cope with the rigorous demands ahead, but his bitterness was very plain. As the evening had worn on he'd told her that he believed that Maria was having an affair with a man she'd known very well just before he himself had met her.

‘I think her mother's encouraging it,' he'd said thoughtfully. ‘The truth of it is they thought that I would inherit The Keep when Grandmother died and when I explained it all properly they became somewhat disenchanted. Maria likes the idea of being the lady of the manor but only once everyone else has been chucked out. Part of the attraction of moving back to Salisbury is that Adam Wishart is there. He's her father's partner now. I expect they feel it would have been better to have kept it in the family.'

Even now, Kit felt a sense of shock at the thought of it. When she attempted to analyse her feelings she realised that she felt annoyed with herself for underrating Maria. She and Sin had often joked at Maria's preciousness, at her adoration for Hal, her jealousy . . .

‘I don't believe it,' she'd exclaimed.

But Hal had shaken his head sadly. ‘Things are not good,' he'd said quietly

It was then that they'd begun to reminisce, to talk of the past, of their childhood, of Fliss.

‘It's my fault,' he'd said. ‘Fliss would have stood firm but I was undecided both for me and for her . . .'

Later, she'd told him about Miles's bombshell and Fliss's determination to stay in Devon.

‘Perhaps,' she'd said, having drunk enough to speak her mind, ‘perhaps you and Fliss will get together after all. What with Maria playing the field and Miles going to Hong Kong.'

She'd felt his reserve return, then, the barriers rising. ‘It's not that easy,' he'd said shortly – and begun to talk about Mole.

By the time she was dressed and ready for action she found Clarrie in the kitchen already clearing up.

‘Come live with me and be my love,' she said, kissing him fulsomely on the ear, ‘and we will all the pleasures prove . . .'

‘As long as I do all the work,' he finished for her, flapping her away with a soapy hand. ‘Useless woman! Get hold of that tea cloth and never mind the cupboard love.'

‘Love causes nothing but problems,' she said, picking up the tea towel. ‘Oh, Clarrie, I don't think I know one happy person in the whole world.'

‘You know me,' he answered indignantly. ‘I'm happy, dammit.'

‘True,' she said, brightening a little. ‘I suppose it's a start . . . Clarrie?'

‘Mmm?' he answered cautiously.

‘I've had a good idea.'

‘Mmm?'

‘When we've finished let's go down to the pub.'

‘Now you're talking,' he said. ‘Get moving with that cloth then. This is only the tip of the iceberg. Have you seen the sitting room?'

‘Shit,' said Kit. ‘I'd forgotten the state of the sitting room. Never mind . . . Clarrie?'

‘Mmm?'

‘Thanks for being there.'

‘Don't talk daft, woman. Take that tray and go and fetch the dirty glasses or we'll be here all day . . . and, Kit?'

She paused at the door, tray in hand. ‘Mmm?'

He grinned at her. ‘I love you, too, you know,' he said.

The room was quiet, full of April sunshine whose glancing brightness slid across the faded Chinese rugs and lit the titles of the books ranged on the shelves of the mahogany bookcase. A bee, enjoying the unexpected warmth, lumbered lazily in through the open, south-facing window and buzzed inquisitively beside the brocade curtains before landing heavily, clambering over their thick folds.

‘But have I got the right?' asked Fliss into the silence. ‘Have I got the right not to go, if you see what I mean?'

She continued to stand by the other window, which looked east over the hill. One knee was resting on the broad seat and her eyes were fixed on the spinney where new leaves were transforming the bare branches with a tender misting green. In the ivy below the window the sparrows were busy, chattering noisily together, whilst in her hidden, secret nest the blackbird guarded her eggs, waiting for the return of her mate.

Theo stirred. Sitting with his arms folded on the battered leather-topped desk he attempted to find words with which to help her. He'd listened carefully whilst she told him about Miles's plans for the future, trying to hear what she wasn't saying as well as what she was actually telling him, praying for guidance. As usual he felt all the weight of his own inadequacies and wondered why it was that she thought he might have the wisdom to help her. He realised that she was feeling her way through a kind of moral maze and he wondered whether she really expected him to explain that there was a clear-cut path; a definite choice of right and wrong. He gave a deep internal sigh. If only it were that easy and, even if it were, why did she assume that he would have the right to help her decide?

She'd gone to great lengths to put both sides of the argument, to explain Miles's character to him, to be as fair as possible. He could understand this. Ultimately, there was never any point in cheating, whether it was yourself or other people. He knew how frighteningly easy it was to distort truths to justify one's actions, often at the expense of someone else. How tempting it was to drug one's conscience until it dwelled contentedly in a shadowy land beyond the reach of the bright searching beam of self-knowledge.

‘The trouble is,' Fliss was saying, still with her back to him, ‘that's it's almost too late. If only he'd discussed it with me earlier it wouldn't have made it seem so desperate – but it's all fixed. There's no time for me to put my point of view calmly or sensibly, no time to consider other options. I had a letter from Mary Maybrick before I left home this morning, telling me how delighted she was that it was all arranged and that she's got somewhere lined up for us to live until we sort ourselves out. Part of me wants to think that he's bounced me into it because he suspected that I wouldn't want to go. I sometimes think that it's almost impossible not to, if you see what I mean. It's like a kind of awful nightmare where you find yourself being swept along and you can't shout or move. I feel that one day I'm going to wake up in Hong Kong and that will be that. But to be fair to Miles I honestly don't think it
was
that. It just took hold of him and obsessed him. He genuinely can't imagine that I'm not thrilled to bits. He thinks it's because of the twinnies and all of you here.'