Summer Moonshine (11 page)

I
T
was not immediately that Sir Buckstone broke the silence that followed his brother-in-law's departure. For fully half a minute he remained wrestling with emotions which appeared to preclude speech.

Then he said in a low, grating voice:

'Houseboat?'

It was becoming increasingly clear to Joe that a situation had arisen which would call for somewhat delicate handling, and he set himself to pick his words carefully. There had begun to burgeon within him a warm feeling of gratitude to Mr Bulpitt. There, he told himself, was the sort of man he liked – one of few words and with the dramatic sense to exit on the telling line, instead of sticking around and going into a lot of explanations which could not but have proved a source of embarrassment.

'Houseboat?' said Sir Buckstone. 'Did he say "houseboat"?'

Joe coughed.

'I think "houseboat" was the word he mentioned.'

'What houseboat?'

'Could it possibly,' suggested Joe deferentially, 'be that one of yours?'

'But there's somebody living on that. Man named Peake.'

Joe coughed again.

'I was meaning to tell you about that. I was chatting with Peake a short while ago, and the impression I got from something he let fall was that he was thinking of leaving. I'm very much afraid that what must have happened is that Peake has sublet the boat to this man Bulpitt.'

'Gor!'

'I fear so. As a matter of fact, I didn't like to damp you by suggesting it just now, when you were sketching out your plan – your extraordinarily ingenious plan – for having Bulpitt kicked out of the inn, but it did occur to me as a sort of possibility that he might have thought a move ahead of the game and anticipated you. And so it has proved. He went to Peake, and Peake gave him the boat.'

'I'd like to kick Peake's spine through his hat.'

'Many men have felt the same urge.'

'He wants kicking, this man Peake? People have noticed it?'

'Very frequently.'

Silence fell. Sir Buckstone was brooding. A bee buzzed past his nose and he gave it a cold look. He turned and started to stump to the gate.

'One really scarcely knows,' said Joe, following him, 'what to say about a man like Peake. You would have thought that anyone could have spotted that this fellow Bulpitt was up to something, asking for the boat. A child, one would have imagined, would have suspected that his motives were sinister. But not Peake.'

'Chap must be a perfect ass.'

'A very indifferent mentality, certainly. I don't know if you have met him. He has a sort of soppy expression.'

'He's gone and put us in the devil of a hole.'

'It is difficult to forgive him for that.'

'I wasn't thinking of forgiving him,' said Sir Buckstone. 'What I'm trying to work out is, what are we going to do?'

'Yes. The situation will require careful thought. I take it that these papers have to be served personally? Bulpitt can't just slip them in an envelope and mail them to Tubby?'

'Personally, yes. Though Chinnery says you can throw 'em.'

'Throw 'em?'

'Chinnery's second wife's inhuman-cruelty papers were thrown at him. By this very fellow Bulpitt. He said "Ahoy" and threw them at Chinnery.'

'I don't see how he can repeat that performance this time, unless he is the very dickens of a hurler. I mean, if he is on the houseboat and Tubby is at the Hall—'

'But will your brother have the sense to remain at the Hall?'

'We must see to it that he does. I will take it upon myself to watch him like a hawk.'

'Thank you, Joe.'

'A pleasure, Buck.'

The hired vehicle which J. B. Attwater had promised came creaking round the corner and halted beside them. They climbed in and drove off.

'Yes,' said Joe, 'Walsingford Hall from now on must be looked upon as a beleaguered fortress, thanks to Peake.'

'Thanks to Peake,' said Sir Buckstone, breathing heavily.

'But I see no reason why, by the exercise of never-ceasing vigilance, we should not foil this Bulpitt indefinitely.'

'So long as we can hold him off till the Princess has bought the house—'

'Yes.'

'You see, she's my only hope. Women fatheaded enough to want to buy a house like Walsingford Hall don't grow on every bush.'

'Exactly. Well, I feel sure that we can stymie Bulpitt all right. Good heavens, two men of our intelligence against a fellow who chews gum and wears a hat like that! The thing's in the bag.'

'You really think so?'

'I'm sure of it.'

'You're a great comfort, Joe.'

'I try to be, Buck.'

'What astounds me,' said Sir Buckstone, after a few moments of silent brooding, 'is that it should be Miss Whittaker of all people who has brought about this frightful situation. Would you have thought that she was the sort of girl to go and do a thing like this?'

'I wouldn't, no.'

'Nor I. I was shocked. Shocked and astounded. Chinnery says I ought to give her the sack. But how can I give her the sack? I couldn't run the place without her for a day. Chaos. If she had stolen the silver or murdered me in cold blood, I'd have to keep her on just the same.'

'Awkward.'

'Very.'

'Embarrassing, you might say.'

'Most. Man who's being sued for breach of promise and girl who's suing him living in the same house. Creates a strained situation.'

'Stops the flow of conversation at meals.'

'Exactly. But what can I do?'

'It's difficult.'

'No, I've got to keep her on, but I shall be very reserved and distant in my manner when we meet. I'm not sure for the future if I shall say, "Good morning". Blast the girl!'

Joe nodded sympathetically.

'I can readily understand your emotion,' he said. 'But, of course, one must always look on both sides of a thing. She has a case. A woman scorned, you know.'

'Yes, that's true, I suppose.'

'It can't ever be really pleasant for a woman to be scorned, and when she's scorned by a muttonhead like young Tubby, I imagine the iron must enter pretty deeply into the soul.'

'No doubt.'

'So I don't altogether blame Miss Whittaker. The person whose behaviour amazes me is this man Peake. It leaves me positively breathless.'

'Me too.'

'One tries always to see the good in one's fellow-men, and generally one succeeds. But when it comes to Peake, the naked eye is baffled. You need a microscope. Just fancy letting Bulpitt have that boat!'

'Damn fool!'

Joe was looking grave.

'I wonder,' he said. 'It has only just occurred to me, but, weighing the evidence, don't you think it may be possible that he is more knave than fool?'

'Eh?'

'May he not have acted deliberately and of malice aforethought? It seems highly probable to me, Buck, that Peake has been in league with Bulpitt from the start.'

'Good heavens, Joe!'

'It would explain a great deal.'

'Is he the sort of chap who would be in league with chaps?'

'Exactly the sort.'

'God bless my soul! And to think that I invited him to my house!'

'I wouldn't dream of having him anywhere near your house. Have you dogs at Walsingford Hall?'

'Eh? Oh, yes, a couple of dogs.'

'If Peake tries to get into the house, set them on him.'

'They're only spaniels.'

'Spaniels are better than nothing,' said Joe.

The hired vehicle drew up at the front door. Sir Buckstone was out of it like a rabbit. As always when in the depths, he yearned to get to his wife, so that she might apply to his bruised soul the healing ointment of her placidity. Joe, following more slowly, paid the driver and placed his suit-cases in the charge of Pollen. This done, he sauntered off to the terrace. Lunch, he presumed, would be served shortly, but there would be time before the meal for him to make himself acquainted with his new surroundings.

The terrace terminated in a low stone wall, along the top of which were dotted busts of the Caesars and other ancient worthies, placed there in the spacious days of Sir Wellington, when people liked that sort of thing. The one nearest Joe was that of the censor Cato, an unpleasant-looking man who suffered from having a long nose and no eyeballs, but had the saving virtue of possessing a very large bare upper lip, the sort of upper lip which calls imperiously to every young man of spirit to draw a moustache on it with a pencil.

Joe, fortunately, had a pencil on his person, and was soon absorbed in his work. So absorbed, indeed, that it was only a
moment or two after it had been uttered that he heard the curious, sharp exclamation in his rear.

He turned. Jane Abbott was standing there.

If you will take down your copy of Sir Buckstone Abbott's 'My Sporting Memories' from its shelf and turn to page 51, you will find a passage describing in some detail the reactions of the author, at that time a novice to conditions on the Dark Continent, on discovering, while swimming in the River Limpopo, that mixed bathing regulations were in vogue there and that his dip was being shared by a couple of young crocodiles. It is a powerful piece of word-painting, leaving no doubt in the reader's mind that the narrator was genuinely stirred. And what seems to have impressed him most deeply was the eye of the crocodile on the left, which he describes as cold and penetrating and unfriendly.

Very much the same adjectives would have been applied to the eye which Jane Abbott was now directing at Joe Vanringham.

Joe, on his side, was momentarily quite a little taken aback. He had expected that, having gained access to Walsingford Hall, he would meet Jane – indeed, that was the whole idea – but the suddenness of her advent had startled him; and as he met her eye, which was like a blue icicle, he was aware of emotions similar in kind and intensity to those experienced by his host in mid-Limpopo. Sir Buckstone specifically mentions that on that occasion everything swam about him – not merely the crocodiles but the whole of that part of Africa which was visible to him at the moment; and for an instant everything swam about Joe. That stare of hers gave him the impression that something cold and sharp had gone through him and come out on the other side.

But he was not long in recovering himself. After his encounter with Miss Prudence Whittaker, he was in the position of a boxer with a hard fight under his belt or one of the survivors of the Charge of the Light Brigade. A man so recently come from the society of that Spirit of Frigidaire was not easily to be frozen by lesser freezers; and though Jane's eye was keen, it was not in the Whittaker class.

'Oh, there you are,' he said amiably.

Jane continued to stare. Her lips were parted, baring her teeth a little.

'What are you doing here?'

'I am in residence.'

'What?'

'This charming place of yours is now my home. I am one of your father's guests. If Walsingford Hall, like so many English country houses, is open to the public on Thursdays, the butler, as he shows the customers around, will be in a position, dating from today, to say "We are now approaching the banqueting hall. At the table you will observe, banqueting like billy-o, the great playwright, Joseph Vanringham." This added attraction, once the news gets about, should lead to many an extra shilling at the turnstiles.'

He paused, eyeing her closely.

'Correct me if I am wrong,' he said, 'but something in your manner suggests that you are not pleased to find me here.'

'I object to being followed.'

Joe was amazed.

'Followed? Do you think I came here following you? Whatever gave you that extraordinary idea? Nothing could be more delightful, of course, than meeting you again, but—Why, how could I possibly know that you lived here?'

'You might have suspected it when I told you I did.'

'You told me? But this is astounding. When?'

'At lunch yesterday.'

'Surely not? And yet—Wait. . . Good heavens so you did.'

'Yes.'

'Yes, I recall the whole thing. It all comes back to me. I said – I remember now – I was sitting over here and I said, "Do you live in London?"'

'Yes.'

'To which your reply – you were sitting over there – was, "No. I live at Walsingford Hall in Berkshire." Yes, yes, yes. You're quite right. Well, well, well. Astonishing how one forgets these things.'

'Very.'

'I can see how you were led into the error of supposing that I had followed you here. But there is a ready explanation of my presence.'

'I should be glad to hear it.'

'I came because my brother Tubby is staying at the Hall.'

'Oh?'

'Yes. I happened to run into him, and he was enthusiastic about the place. He raved about the food and the company. He told me not to miss a good thing, and had me all on fire. I felt that I must be in this. The squarest of meals, said Tubby, the most sparkling conversation during them, lovely scenery, splendid air, baths both h. and c. I tell you, he sold me Walsingford Hall all right.'

'Odd that you did not mention to me at lunch that you had met him.'

'I ought to have done so, of course, but you must remember that I was in a confused mental condition owing to having been
up most of the night, revelling with triumphant hams. I did tell you that I had had a play produced the night before, with stupendous success?'

'You did.'

'Did I read you the notices?'

'No.'

'Would you care to hear them now?'

'I would not.'

'Just as you like. Let me know when you feel in the mood. Well, as I say, Tubby got me all worked up and I packed a bag and came along. I trust this simple, manly explanation has got across. You do believe that I hadn't the remotest notion in my head of coming here just because I wanted to see you again?'

'No, I don't.'

'I thought you wouldn't. Superficially, that Tubby thing seemed pretty watertight, but one cannot buck a woman's intuition. Very well, then, I will come clean. I did follow you down here. And why not? Why should you be so surprised at that?'

'I'm not surprised. Nothing that you could do would surprise me.'

'Oh, I wouldn't say that. You haven't seen me at my best. But to get back to it. Why wouldn't a man of sensibility want to take the earliest possible opportunity of apologizing to a girl for his uncouth behaviour in asking her to marry him as abruptly as I asked you? I blush to think of it. I had known you only for about twenty minutes, and it was unpardonable of me to have said what I did after twenty minutes. I should have waited at least an hour. Can you ever forgive me?'