Seven Dials (20 page)

But not completely. His welfare and her developing skills had become inextricably woven in her mind, so that she knew that her training would only be complete when she had operated on him and dealt with that wide scar that puckered his face and wrinkled his eye so interestingly. When she had smoothed out that pucker and disposed of that wrinkling then and only then would she be ready to leave McIndoe’s side and start out on her own career as a mender of hurt faces.

That was her new ambition, the plan on which all her previous training and experience now seemed to be focused, so that in a very real sense Brin mattered to her not only
personally but professionally too. His welfare was hers - and that made her feel both exhilarated and uneasy. To be so dependent on another person for fulfilment can’t be healthy, her inner voice would murmur, and she would try to ignore it. But the anxiety was always there.

Today it sharpened her eagerness to see him, and after the hour had at last passed by - some of it occupied in buying a quaint old medical book published in 1890, from Foyle’s bookshop - she made her way with a bouncy step to the door that led around the corner from the rehearsal room feeling everything about her with extra sensitivity; the icy wind slapping rubbish around the frosted gutters, and whipping her own cheeks to a glowing red, the smell of petrol and gas in the street from the nearby building site where a main had, as usual, been fractured - London seemed to smell of gas almost everywhere these days - and the rattle of traffic in Cambridge Circus, all battered at her senses. But she was content, for what better way could there be to spend one of her few days off than with Brin?

And today, happily, he seemed as pleased to see her as she was to see him. Sometimes he was sulky and almost offhand when they met, only gradually becoming more cheerful as their time together went by, but she put this down to the way he felt about what he was doing.

That even an unpaid job was better than no job at all was undoubted. He needed to be occupied and he was well aware of that fact, and to give him his full due, he was not a man who cared a great deal for money as money. He wanted to be a highly paid actor if he could, but only because the level of his cash reward would be an indication of the level of the esteem in which he was held by the public. All he needed now, however, was enough to live on and he had that. His little flat in Earlham Street, which he had rented for a number of years, was cheap and he was lucky to have it in these times of chronic housing shortages; his small income, drawn from the modest fortune his mother had left him, and supplemented by an allowance from his father, was enough to feed him. There were no costs to be met for clothes, for who could buy clothes when rationing was so severe that one was lucky if one’s meagre allotment of coupons kept one in essentials like socks and underwear? So that was not a problem.

But the longueurs of the job he had were. Letty, he would tell Charlie furiously, had allowed far too much time for the production of this Benefit show. She had said it was because she had to fit in with the performers, all of whom were giving their services free and needed to earn their livings as well as to work at raising money for Nellie’s, but as far as Brin was concerned, this was all nonsense.

‘It’s all so damned
tedious
,’ he’d said the last time they had met, sitting hunched over the interminable cups of coffee or tea they would share in shabby Lyons’ teashops whenever Charlie came to London. ‘Peter sits there as silent as the bloody grave and only manages to dredge up some conversation when Letty comes in - I could die of boredom.’

‘Not enough work to do?’ Charlie said sympathetically, knowing how miserable she would be without her hours well filled.

‘Oh, it’s not that,’ Brin said. ‘They keep me belting around like a lunatic. There’s plenty of work - it’s just that there’s no one to talk to as much as I’d like - though some of the dancers are rather delicious.’ He had chuckled then, his mood improving suddenly. ‘They don’t talk much, or when they do it’s just babble, but then, it’s not talking I want to share with
them
.’

And Charlie had managed to say nothing and not to show that she minded these casual references he would make to flirting with the girls. She knew he did, that casual kisses and caresses in dark corners of the rehearsal room were an integral part of his life and was glad he talked to her so freely about it, seeing it as an indication of intimacy they shared. If they weren’t close friends, rather than patient and doctor, he would be more discreet, surely? His free and easy chatter about girls was really a compliment, she would tell herself fiercely and it was silly to get these stabs of jealousy. The dancers meant nothing to him; they were just silly girls he played with and then forgot and she knew it. But all the same the jealousy did flare, often, and she hated it.

But on this bright and blustery morning it was different, and her belly tightened with pleasure when she walked into the rehearsal room and saw the wide and welcoming grin with which he greeted her. Today his mood was a good one and they’d have a lovely time, and she grinned back delightedly,
not knowing how pretty her relief made her look.

‘Charlie, I’ve got a treat for you today!’ he said gaily. ‘I managed to scrounge some chicken off the ration, would you believe, from that funny little shop in Short’s Gardens, and this morning, before I came here, I put it with great reverence into Mrs Burroughs’ hands with strict instructions to make something magic out of it. She mayn’t be much of a cleaner of the flat, but she’s a fantastic cook, I’ll tell you, so come on. We’ll have a super lunch
chez moi
and gossip.’ And he waved a casual hand at the others and they went clattering happily away down the stairs.

Katy watched them go and then said easily to Peter, ‘Chicken! Lucky devil - but he’s not the only one. Peter, dear heart, I have been making the most outrageous sheep’s eyes at the old man at Ley On’s, and I’ve got a table! He’s promised me all sorts of wondrous Chinese goodies if we turn up there in good time. What do you say? Noodles and the like should set you up for the afternoon, and you’ve got that big flower sellers’ number to do, haven’t you? And Rollo said he’d be in too, to do ours - and high time too, the lazy wretch - so we need a bit of sustenance.’

Peter looked up vaguely from the set designs he had been studying and Letty, sitting beside him, looked sharply at Katy too and considered for a moment opting herself into the planned lunch. The waiter at Ley On’s restaurant wasn’t the only recipient of Katy’s outrageous sheep’s eyeing, she thought; maybe Peter needed a little protection. There was no way, as Letty well knew, that Katy was doing anything but playing a game of flirtation with him to pass the time until she could go thankfully back to Hollywood when her contract was ended and promptly forget him, and Peter had been hurt enough.

She threw a quick glance at him now and thought for a moment and then relaxed. It was worth the risk; he was looking much better now than he had, his body becoming less fragile and his face filling out a little as at last he began to put on some weight, and he seemed to be amused by Katy, no more. Right now he was looking at her with a grin and seemed very much like the Peter of the pre-War years.

‘It sounds delicious, but I did sort of tell Lee that I’d see her
this afternoon, give her a bit of a progress report - the Committee are wanting more news now we’re getting to about the half-way stage, and I want to know how they’re getting on with the brochure and so forth. I really ought to -’

Letty made up her mind suddenly. Katy was doing more good for Peter now than she might do potential harm, she decided.

‘I’ll see her,’ she said brusquely. ‘I want to talk to her about this wretched paper shortage. They’ve sent out a damned Government circular limiting the amount that can be used for magazines and so forth, and I’m worried about our ration for the brochure. So you go and have lunch - I’ll sort things out with Lee.’

‘There!’ Katy said gaily and reached for Peter’s hands and pulled him to his feet. ‘Noodles were written in your stars for you today, and who are you to fight the stars? We shall go and make absolute pigs of ourselves and to hell with the regulations. He’ll charge us the legal rate for lunch and pounds and pounds for our pots of Chinese tea and we’ll get far more than our share. Lovely and greedy! Do you mind being a black marketeer?’

‘Not too much,’ Peter said, and shrugged on his coat. ‘It’s a very minor form of villainy, after all. I’ve seen worse -’

‘Haven’t we all, darling,’ Katy said, and tucked her hand into his arm and threw a glittering look at Letty. ‘Give my best love to darling Lee,’ she said, and took Peter triumphantly away, and he went happily enough, with more of a spring in his step than Letty had seen before, so that she began to regret her hasty decision to aid and abet Katy. That minx, she thought uneasily as she heard their footsteps receding down the stairs; will she hurt him? He’s doing so well, and it would take so little to shatter him again. But it’s too late now, and she heard the street door far below slam behind them.

In the event it was better for Peter that she had kept him away from Lee, she decided an hour or so later as she sat opposite her in the teashop near the rehearsal rooms. She was as well dressed as she always was, as perfectly turned out, but there was a listlessness about her that made the air between them seem to hang heavily and Letty looked at her bent head as she stirred her tea mechanically for far longer than was necessary
to dissolve the saccharin in it, and shook her own head in some irritation.

‘Well, come on Lee, out with it,’ she said. ‘What’s bothering you?’

Lee looked up, almost visibly pulling her mind into the here and now from wherever it had been.

‘I’m sorry, Letty,’ she said. ‘Am I being rather dull? It’s - it’s just that I’m worried about this brochure business. We’re going to need every penny we can get, and it’s worth thousands and thousands to us to get that advertising printed. If we can’t, then, really, the Benefit just won’t be as worthwhile as it should and -’

‘We’ve been through all that. I’ve told you, I’ll fix it. I’ve got contacts. This is me, Letty, remember? I’m family as well as friend. Now, what’s really the matter?’

There was a little silence and then Lee said baldly, ‘I’m going to divorce Harry.’

‘Oh,’ Letty said after a long pause. ‘Are you indeed?’

‘I’ve found a house, and it’s almost ready. I’ll be moving in with the children a fortnight on Friday. It’s quite a nice one. Very convenient for the children’s schools and so on, and Nanny has said she’ll stay with me, thank God. I was afraid she’d go all proper on me and refuse to work in a household where a divorce was happening -’ Her voice trailed away and she returned to the stirring of her tea.

‘What does Harry say about this? Has he agreed to - to give you grounds?’

‘Give me grounds?’ Lee laughed, a singularly mirthless sound. ‘He doesn’t have to give me any grounds. I’ve had them to hand any time this past two years. I shall just serve the papers on him. Or my solicitor will. As for what he’ll say -’ She shrugged. ‘I really don’t know. I’m past caring.’

Letty stared at her blankly. ‘Are you trying to tell me you haven’t talked about this?’

‘What’s the point, Letty? We’re miles apart and - what’s there to talk about? He spends all his time flirting with other women, rushing from one to another - if one refuses him then he seems not to care and turns to the nearest that will listen to him. It’s one of the things that makes me feel so
sick
.’ Lee’s pale face reddened suddenly. ‘He’s so undiscriminating. It’s as though anyone will do. As long as it isn’t me -’ And again she
bent her head, unwilling to meet Letty’s direct gaze.

‘Well, I certainly hope you manage to keep the children out of earshot the day you move out,’ Letty said grimly. ‘I imagine he’s unlikely to just sit there quietly and let you pick up your luggage and go.’

‘He won’t be there,’ Lee said drearily. ‘He’ll be away for the weekend. Says he’s got a case in Sussex, near Brighton, to follow up and won’t be back till late on the Sunday.’

She laughed again, that short ugly little sound that was so unlike the Lee that Letty had always known. ‘He’s got no imagination, has he? Brighton! I ask you - he’s probably taking her to the Metropole with all the other seedy little weekenders -’

‘Do you know who she is?’ Letty asked, her voice as sympathetic as she could make it.

‘Could be anyone. One of the nurses, I imagine. He’s bedded most of them, at one time or another. No, don’t look like that, Letty. I’m no fool. Not now, at any rate. I have been, for far too long. He’s been rushing around women like - like some bloody rabbit for all this time and I’ve tried to pretend to myself it hasn’t been happening. Well, I’m not telling myself any more lies. I’ve had enough -’

That Lee should swear, however mildly, was an indication of how distressed she was, Letty thought, and reached out impulsively to hold her hand on the table top. ‘My dear, I’m so sorry. Anything I can do to help -’

‘Thanks,’ Lee said. ‘I - it’s the family I’m worried about. Old Sir Lewis and -’ She swallowed. ‘They were all so proud of you when you got your Damehood, and - and now I’m going to disgrace you all. There’s never been a divorce in the Lackland family, ever, and I’m going to ruin everything. But I just don’t know what else to do - I truly don’t -’ and tears began to splash off the end of her nose onto Letty’s rather gnarled hand on the table. ‘I’m sorry, Letty, so sorry. I hope there won’t be any publicity - I hate the thought of it for myself enough - I hate it even more for you.’

‘Never mind that,’ Letty said bracingly. ‘I doubt any of the papers will care at all. They’re so short of newsprint these days that such matters won’t concern ’em -’

But she knew she was lying. When her name had appeared in the New Year’s honours list there hadn’t been a newspaper
of any political colour that hadn’t made much of it. Her photograph had been everywhere, and now taxi drivers greeted her cheekily as Dame Letty when they picked her up, and strangers in the street nodded and becked knowingly at her. Oh, there would be publicity all right over a divorce involving a member of the Lackland family.