Riders (13 page)

Luigi installed them at a table divided from the rest of the restaurant by a dark green wall of tropical plants. Immediately Helen fled to the Ladies’. She felt so drab in her gray dress, with her pale church face gazing back from the mirror. Savagely, she ringed her eyes with pencil, added a coral splodge of blusher to each cheekbone, painted her mouth to match, and emptied so much Miss Dior over herself that it made her sneeze.

Back at the table, Rupert had ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon and removed his tie. Badger, lying at his feet, thumped his tail. Breathing in the newly applied Miss Dior, Rupert noticed the additional makeup. All good signs.

“I haven’t been in London on a Sunday for ages,” he said. “It’s nice, and it’s the first time I’ve had a chance to look at you properly—that’s even nicer. You’re really an astonishingly beautiful girl. What the hell were you doing with Nige?”

“We work together.”

“In publishing?”

“I read manuscripts and write blurbs. Actually,” she blushed, “I’m also working on a novel.”

“Can I read it?”

“It’s only in draft form.”

“Well, you must put me in it, then. I’ll be Prince Charming. Nigel can be the toad. You’re not really his girlfriend?”

“No, I am not,” said Helen with some asperity. “He just asked me out with the Antis yesterday. How did you get my phone number?”

“Well, Billy and I found Nigel letting down the tires of our lorry, so I shook him till his lentils rattled, then left him trussed up like a Christmas turkey and appropriated his address book. What did you think of your day out?”

“Very cruel. All those people tearing after a poor defenseless fox, ripping it apart for fun.”

“Have you ever seen a chicken coop after a fox has been, all with their heads bitten off and left? Foxes kill for the hell of it, too.”

“The fox doesn’t get a chance,” protested Helen, “with you blocking up their earths and digging them out with terriers after they’ve gone to ground.”

Rupert shrugged his shoulders. “Farmers wouldn’t let us hunt across their land if we didn’t.”

He filled her glass, although she’d drunk only half of it, looking at her meditatively.

“Hunting’s like adultery,” he said. “Endless hanging about, interspersed with frenzied moments of excitement, very expensive and morally indefensible.”

“Why d’you do it, then?” asked Helen primly.

“Hunt or commit adultery? Because I enjoy them both. I fancy other people’s wives from time to time. I enjoy riding hell for leather across country. It’s one of the best ways of teaching young horses to jump anything; or stop an older horse getting stale. Horses love it, so do hounds, so do the people doing it. You just don’t like to see people enjoying themselves.”

“It’s still wrong for people to get all dressed up for the pleasure of killing something,” said Helen, hotly.

“Darling love, the saboteurs had far more fun than we did yesterday. Billy, my mate, always says if ever they abolish hunting he’s going to join the Antis.”

Helen, remembering how she’d attacked Paul last night, had to concede he was right.

“But Nigel does have principles,” she protested. “He’s a strict Vegan.”

“Farts all day in the office, I suppose,” said Rupert, yawning.

Helen blushed, but refused to be deflected.

“Nigel,” she went on earnestly, “has not eaten anything that moves for ten years.”

“Not even jelly?” asked Rupert.

Helen tried to look disapproving and giggled. “You’re impossible.”

“Impassible, am I?” said Rupert, mocking her pronunciation. “Well, you certainly won’t get past me in a hurry.”

Luigi arrived with the menu. Helen noticed there were no prices.

“What are you going to eat? I’m sure Luigi can flambé you some nut cutlets, but why not be really decadent and have a large rare steak?”

Luigi particularly recommended the scampi served with a cream pernod sauce or the filets of wild duck with juniper berry sauce.

“No, I don’t want any of your mucked-about rubbish, Luigi. My guest would like…” He turned to Helen.

“Oh, pâté, and a small steak and a green salad.”

“And I’ll have smoked salmon, and grilled lamb chops, very rare, with some fried potatoes, and can you bring an extra steak for Badger? He likes it well done, and we’ll have a bottle of Number Six, and another bottle of this while we’re waiting.”

While he was ordering, she admired the beautifully lean curve of his jaw. Unlike most Englishmen, and particularly ones who spent so much time out of doors, there was no red tinge to his complexion which, even without the suntan, would have been pale olive. Glancing around, he caught her gazing at him. “Well?” he said.

“You’re very tanned.”

“Skiing last month.”

“I hear you’re an expert at horseback riding.”

Rupert grinned. “You could call it that. The show jumping season’s about to start in earnest. It’s Crittleden next weekend. Why don’t you come down on Saturday?”

He was touched to see how thrilled she was.

“I’d just love to. I’d so enjoy seeing one of your performances.”

“With any luck you might be seeing one of those before that,” he said, smiling at her with those wicked, dangerously direct eyes. Helen chose to ignore the innuendo. Was it Badger or Rupert under the table, pressing against her leg?

“How did you get into that terrible coven?”

Helen looked disapproving.

“Regina House is a very distinguished institution. It was founded to accommodate women of substance.”

“Oh, that’s what’s the matter with them,” said Rupert. “I thought they all looked like that frightful harridan that was out with you yesterday, the one with more spare tires than the Firestone factory.”

Under the influence of the wine, Helen found herself more and more at ease, minding less and less about his flip remarks. As their first course arrived, she found herself telling him about her first digs and the unfixed tom and the lecherous lodger.

“I gained ten pounds.”

“Well, it seems to have gone in the right places,” said Rupert, gazing at her breasts. He ate very fast, finishing his smoked salmon before she was a quarter way through her pâté.

“This is excellent paté.” She pronounced it “part-
ay.
” He wondered idly if her accent would get on his nerves. “I’m afraid I can’t finish it, I’m awfully sorry.”

Off her grub, thought Rupert; another good sign.

“Now is the time for all good dogs to come to the aid of the part
ay,
” he said, spearing it with his knife and handing it under the table to Badger, who gobbled it up with more thumping.

As their second course arrived, she tried to steer the conversation on to more academic lines. Did he enjoy reading?

“Not a lot. The best book I’ve read in years is
The Moon’s a Balloon
.”

“Do you go to the theater a lot?”

“Well, I went once,” said Rupert.

Helen determinedly didn’t look shocked. Writers had to accept all kinds of people.

Rupert was picking his chop bones now, tearing the meat off with very strong white teeth; particularly good teeth, she noticed, for an Englishman.

“Have you any siblings?”

“What?”

“Brothers and sisters,” she explained.

“Only one. A brother, Adrian. Very bright. My mother’s favorite. He runs an art gallery.”

“Oh, which one?” asked Helen eagerly.

“The Bellingham; specializes in modern stuff.”

Helen said she’d been there often.

“Awful tripe, don’t you think?” said Rupert. “Adrian gets frightfully miffed when I tell him Badger could do better with his tail dipped in a paint pot.”

All these remarks were drawled out with a completely deadpan face. She couldn’t tell if he was sending her up.

“At least you must go to the cinema?”

“No,” said Rupert. “Quite honestly, if you’ve got nearly thirty horses, as Billy and I have, many of them novices that need bringing on, or top-class horses that need keeping up to the mark, you don’t get much time for anything else. We’ve got a man and three girl grooms, but we still get up at six-thirty and seldom leave the yard before nine or ten at night. Horses still need looking after on weekends. And you’ve got to keep looking at other horses all the time in case you miss something. Nearly all the year round we’re traveling nonstop from show to show all over the world. You don’t get to the top by going to French films or hanging around art galleries.”

“I’m sorry,” said Helen, feeling corrected. “Do you do the same sort of thing as Mark Phillips?”

“He events, I show jump. Ours is the serious stuff; eventing’s for gifted amateurs.”

“Do you know Mr. Phillips?” Helen felt ashamed for asking.

“Yes, he’s a very nice bloke.”

“Will he marry Princess Anne?”

“So he tells me,” said Rupert, filling up her glass. Helen tried not to betray how impressed she felt.

She couldn’t eat any more of her second course than her first. Rupert gave her steak to Badger.

“It’s so expensive, it’s awful,” said Helen in distress.

“It isn’t offal, it’s steak,” said Rupert, again imitating her accent.

“Did you go to Eton College?” she asked.

“No, Harrow.”

“Lord Byron went there,” said Helen excitedly. “He was an extraordinarily fine poet.”

“Pulled some amazing girls, too.”

“His letters are fascinating.”

“Supposed to have had his half-sister.”

Luigi brought brandy for Rupert and coffee and chocolate peppermint creams for Helen.

“No, thank you,” she said. “I’ve given up candy for Lent.”

“I’ve given up women,” said Rupert, taking her hand, “except you.”

Almost on cue an exquisitely beautiful girl with long, blue-black hair barged into their jungle glade.

“Rupert Bear,” she screamed, “what are you doing, skulking away like a babe in the wood? Aren’t you frightened of all the wild animals?” she added to Helen.

But before Helen could answer, the girl had rattled on.

“Nicky Cripps is absolutely livid with you, Rupe. He booked this table weeks ago and you just pinch it from under his nose. Aren’t you going to offer me a drink, Rupert Bear, just for old times’ sake?”

“Beat it,” said Rupert icily.

“Oh, well, I’ll have to help myself,” and, picking up Rupert’s glass of brandy with a shaking hand, she drained it. Suddenly there was a tremendous thump from under the table and Badger emerged grinning, pressing his black face into the girl’s crotch.

“Hello, Badger,” she said in a choked voice. “You’ve always been keener on me than Rupert Bear is.”

Glancing at Rupert’s face, Helen tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“Why do you call him Rupert Bear?” she asked.

The girl looked at her pityingly. “Don’t you know? Rupert BA-R-E, because he spends so much time with his clothes off.” Reaching over, she picked up the cross that hung round Helen’s neck. “And don’t think that’ll keep you safe. You won’t be able to ward him off any more than anyone else, and afterwards he’ll spit you out like a grape pip.”

Rupert got to his feet. “Get out,” he said in a voice that made Helen shiver. “You’re drunk and you’re boring us.”

The girl gave a sob and fled. Helen escaped to the loo. She felt quite sick. Her face was flushed, her eyes inflamed.

As she slapped on some makeup, two girls came in, heading for the loos, shouting to each other over the partition.

“Bianca’s just had a showdown with Rupert Bear,” said the first. “And all in front of his new girlfriend.”

“She won’t be new by next week,” said the second, “she’ll be an ex like the rest of us.”

As she emerged from the loo, Rupert, having paid the bill, was waiting for her.

“What’s the matter? You’re shaking.”

“I want to go home.”

“Don’t be silly.” Taking her hand, he led her back to the car.

“Now, what happened?”

“Two girls were talking in the john.”

“What did they say?”

Helen told him.

Rupert took her hands again, holding them tightly.

“Look, I’m sure it upset you, and what Bianca said, too. But if you and I are going to have anything going together, and I feel we can, you must shut your eyes and ears to gossip. If you’re any kind of celebrity, which I suppose Billy and I are, people will always bitch about you. If they don’t know you, they make it up; if they catch you snapping at a traffic warden because your mother’s just died, they’ll assume you’re always bloody-minded. I had a brief walkout with Bianca. I broke it off. I’ve even had girls accusing Billy and me of being queer because I haven’t made a pass at them. You listen to me, not anyone else. Is that clear?”

Helen nodded, speechless.

“You’re terribly sweet.” Leaning forward, he kissed her very gently. At first she resisted, then, as her lips parted, he drew away.