The Granville Sisters (27 page)

‘Get Charles to help,’ Juliet said, looking round, wondering where she could sit.

‘How
can
he?’ Rosie replied with savage fury, throwing a damp tea towel over the back of a chair. She hated Juliet for barging in like this, uninvited. She felt humiliated by the squalor of her home, and bitterly jealous of the fact that her sister, looking fresh and elegant and rich, had never had to do a single menial task in her life.

‘He’s still spending the week in London, is he?’ Juliet asked, to make conversation. ‘I heard he was working in a gallery in Duke Street. I brought you a little present, by the way.’ From her crocodile handbag, she produced a small gift-wrapped box.

Rosie, who felt like weeping with aggravation, filled the kettle at the sink, and then plonked it down, with a resentful bang, on the stove. ‘You needn’t have bothered.’

‘No, I needn’t, but I wanted to.’ The sisters looked icily at each other. Rosie picked up the box, and unwrapped a bottle of Shocking perfume, by Schiaparelli.

‘Oh …!’ Her breath seemed to have been sucked out of her body, and her face turned scarlet.

‘I remembered it was your favourite.’ Juliet spoke with sudden gentleness. ‘There’s nothing like a good squirt of scent to cheer a girl up.’

Without saying anything, Rosie put the bottle down, and turned away, so Juliet wouldn’t see her face.

‘Sophia’s growing fast, isn’t she?’ Juliet remarked, to fill the awkward silence. ‘She’ll be walking before long, I imagine. Does she sleep through the night, yet?’

‘Mostly,’ Rosie murmured, her voice choked.

Juliet reached into her handbag for her gold cigarette case. For the life of her, she didn’t know what to say or do. The gap between them was too wide, too serious, to be bridged by a flippant remark.

We’re both so proud, Juliet thought, as she drew on her cigarette, and watched Sophia playing in the garden. Neither of us will even admit we made a mistake, and are unhappy.

‘I hear you’re having another baby?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’ll be nice for Sophia.’

‘Providing it’s a
boy
,’ Rosie snapped.

At that moment, Charles arrived, carrying some shopping bags.

‘Hello there, Juliet,’ he said, brightening when he saw her. ‘What a nice surprise. And how is Your Grace?’ he teased.

Compared to Rosie, he looked good in his casual country tweeds, which disguised the gangling thinness of his body.

‘Terribly well,’ Juliet said with brittle lightness, sounding like a parody of a witless débutante. ‘Thriving, in fact.’

‘Good.’ He looked her up and down, approvingly. ‘And have you brought His Grace with you?’

‘Poor Cameron has so much to do on the estate, he simply couldn’t get away,’ she trilled. ‘So I’ve popped down on my own.’

Rosie filled the sink with fresh hot water. ‘Did you get all the shopping, Charles?’

He’d ignored Rosie up to now, but as he plonked his shopping on the kitchen table he remarked casually, ‘They didn’t have any cucumbers. Or beetroot. Do we really have to have another bloody salad for lunch?’

Rosie grabbed the brown paper bags, accidentally splitting one of them, and there was a series of thuds as the potatoes fell to the ground and rolled away.

‘Damn!’ she swore, her face scarlet with misery and embarrassment.

‘Don’t fuss,’ Charles remonstrated in a weary voice. ‘They’re only potatoes, for God’s sake.’

‘But they’re covered in earth! I’ve
already
washed this floor this morning.’ She looked so vexed, Juliet didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Charles had scooped up the offending potatoes by now. He chucked them in the sink.

‘
Now
look what you’ve done!’ Rosie screamed. ‘I was about to wash those dishes, and now the water’s all muddy.’

He looked askance at Juliet, and made a grimace. ‘As you can see, I can’t do anything right.’

Juliet ignored the look, and rose to her feet. ‘I must be off, or I’ll be late for lunch. Why don’t you both come to dinner tonight? And bring Sophia. Nanny can look after her.’

‘Thanks, we’d love to,’ Charles replied with alacrity.

Rosie said nothing. Not even goodbye.

Henry’s sister, Candida Montgomery, who lived ten miles away at Whitchurch, in Hampshire, also joined the family for dinner that night, arriving late and bringing her son Sebastian.

‘Sorry, Marina couldn’t come,’ Candida said bluntly. ‘These young things are always making their own arrangements and only telling you at the last moment,’ she added cheerfully.

Her portly figure was encased in a maroon dinner dress that Liza privately reflected must have been designed by a tent manufacturer. But ropes of pearls made Candida a regal figure, dignified and commanding in her own way.

Sherry was offered.

‘Sherry?’ she repeated, appalled. ‘My dear Henry, who drinks sherry these days? It’s a filthy drink. Too liverish. I’ll have a dry Martini, please.’

Henry grinned. ‘Right-o! A dry Martini coming up.’

Liza smiled bravely. Part of her envied Candida’s nonchalant cheek; she’d never have dared ask for anything different, not even in a relative’s house. Candida’s self-assurance was awesome, and she had a habit, although Liza didn’t think she realized it, of making Liza feel very small and very provincial.

‘So, how are you, old thing?’ Henry asked with equal breeziness.

‘Plodding on, you know. Plodding on. I’ve bought a new hunter. Grey Ghost, sired by The Siren out of Grey Mist; great dam, that Grey Mist. Goes like the clappers. Can’t wait for the hunting season to start again,’ Candida boomed.

Liza twisted her diamond rings. The only hunting she was planning to do was to look for a new mink coat for the winter.

‘Good for you.’ Henry looked at his sister affectionately. She was indomitable; strong, brave, and determined not to mope since the death of Marcus, her husband, five years ago.

Candida moved closer to Henry and spoke, her low rumbling voice like a motor mower just about to peter out. ‘What’s the matter with Rosie? She looks terrible.’ She glanced over to the far side of the room, where her niece sat, huddled and frail-looking.

‘She’s having another baby.’

‘That’s not what I mean, Henry. She’s changed. She used to be sweet and gentle; a really lovely girl. Now, she looks so –’ Candida paused, frowning in her search for the right word – ‘so hard-bitten! Sort of … cold and ruthless.’

Henry’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘I hadn’t noticed. I suppose, seeing her every weekend … but has she changed so much?’ he added, looking distressed. He glanced at Rosie, who was talking to his mother. She’d become very gaunt in the past couple of years, but Candida was right. Her face seemed to have frozen into hard lines, and her eyes no longer reminded him of bluebells, but of cold steel.

‘She’s not happy with that drip, is she?’ Candida continued, undaunted. ‘Damn shame she got married so young. What was she ever going to do with a loser like that?’

By the fireplace, Liza was now trying to make small talk with Charles. ‘Bond Street is a nice place to work; all those lovely shops,’ she gushed. ‘Is it very busy in the gallery?’

Charles shrugged, one hand holding his drink, the other in his trouser pocket, while he lounged against the mantelshelf.

‘Fairly busy. This is not the best time of year, though.’ He looked beyond her, bored.

‘It must be very interesting work, though,’ she persisted. ‘It’s always nice to be surrounded by beautiful things.’

Juliet came up to them at that moment, relieving him of having to reply to his mother-in-law.

‘When are you and Rosie coming back to live in London, Charles?’ Juliet asked.

‘It was never my idea to leave London,’ he retorted, offended. ‘I hate the country. I don’t know how you manage, stuck up in Scotland, or perhaps you don’t? Perhaps that’s why you’ve come south, is it?’ he added slyly.

Juliet ignored the taunt.

A shrill voice spoke, just behind her.

‘If you’d
bought
the house in Farm Street, Charles, instead of just renting it, and then not paying the rent, we’d still be in London,’ snarled Rosie. Her eyes were flashing furiously, while her hand was held protectively over her stomach.

An uneasy hush fell over the room. Lady Anne looked deeply troubled. Liza had turned scarlet with embarrassment and shock, and Henry, looking grave, went and put his arm around Rosie’s shoulders.

‘I don’t think, my darling, that everyone wants to hear about our troubles, do you?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Let’s talk about it in private, tomorrow.’

‘What good is that going to do?’ Rosie retorted loudly.

‘Dirty linen is always better washed in private,’ Candida boomed cheerfully. ‘Henry, are we going to eat soon? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’

‘I’m sick to death of protecting Charles,’ Rosie said to her grandmother, as she went upstairs after dinner to collect Sophia, to take her home. ‘He may have a job, but I don’t see any of the money, except for the bits and pieces of food he buys at the weekend. Even then he says the shops don’t have the things I want.’

‘Darling, in public one must always stand by one’s husband,’ Lady Anne said firmly. ‘Of course I sympathize with you for the position you’re in, but is it really necessary to humiliate Charles in front of the rest of your family?’

‘I simply couldn’t help myself,’ Rosie admitted. ‘Maybe the sherry went to my head. I bet it gave Juliet a kick to know that while she’s married to a multi-millionaire, I’m married to a pauper.’

‘I’m sure it gave Juliet no pleasure at all. You let yourself down tonight, darling. More than you actually let Charles down. I’m not taking his side for one minute,’ Lady Anne said quickly, as Rosie was about to protest, ‘but whatever happens, you’ve got to keep your dignity. At least, thank God, it was only a family party, because if you’d done that in front of outsiders, it would have been really embarrassing.’

‘I don’t care.’ Rosie spoke rashly and with desperation in her voice. ‘Daddy’s increased my dress allowance – which has been turned into money to support the three of us, and soon there’ll be four mouths to feed, but he refuses to subsidize Charles.’

Lady Anne spoke firmly. ‘It wouldn’t be good for Charles if your father did. He must learn about responsibility. Do you want to turn him into a kept man?’

‘He’s a kept man, already,’ Rosie flashed back. ‘I don’t think I can stand much more, Granny. I’m at the end of my tether. Mummy never brought me up to be a domestic drudge.’

That’s the root of the trouble
, Lady Anne thought.
She brought you up to be a duchess
…

‘Divorce is out of the question, Rosie.’ Liza looked aghast.

The previous night, Henry had made Liza face the facts about Rosie’s unhappiness.

‘Everything will be fine, once Charles gets a better job. That gallery ought to pay him more.’

‘Charles is never going to have any money,’ Henry said severely. ‘He’s a penniless waster, who spends what he’s got on drink and gambling.’

‘But we can’t let Rosie starve, if they’re as poor as you say; especially as she’s having another baby.’ Liza clasped her hands, fingers interlaced in anguish. ‘We’ve got to help her more, Henry. If it gets out that …’ She closed her eyes, unable to continue.

Liza decided to go and see Rosie the next day, to try and persuade her to make a go of her marriage.

‘It’s not just the money, Mummy,’ she explained fretfully, ‘it’s
everything
. I can’t bear Charles now; he’s weak and selfish and hopeless. I certainly didn’t want this other baby, but he got very drunk one weekend, and he … he forced himself on me. I couldn’t stop him. The only answer is to get a divorce.’

Liza spoke harshly to her daughter, for the first time in her life. ‘The scandal of a divorce will ruin you,’ she raged. ‘Even a separation is out of the question. Pull yourself together, Rosie, for God’s sake! Other people have unhappy marriages, too, but they just get on with it. Don’t you realize you’ll be marked for life if you split up with Charles?’

Rosie sat very upright, her face stony. ‘To be rid of Charles would be worth it.’

‘Don’t be silly, darling,’ Liza said, looking frightened at the prospect of such a family scandal. ‘You’re just feeling low because you’re tired, and you’re pregnant, and everything’s got on top of you. Why don’t you come and stay with us in London, for a bit? Nanny would adore to look after Sophia again; she really misses not having a baby to care for. Do come, sweetheart,’ she coaxed more gently now. ‘We can go shopping; I’ll get you some lovely clothes. We can meet friends for lunch at the Choiserie, give some little parties, get you back in the swing of things among your old friends. Then it won’t be nearly so hard, being married to Charles.’

Rosie’s body slumped, as if the fight was going out of her. ‘If I stay at Green Street, Charles will stay also. That will be worse; I’ll be forced to be with him during the week, as well as at weekends.’

Liza crumpled, too. ‘Oh, dear. Apart from giving you some money, what can I do?’

‘Hope he drops dead?’ Rosie shot back harshly.

Liza looked at her in horror. ‘
Rosie!
That’s the most terrible thing to say.’

‘Shall I invite Rosie and Sophia up to Glenmally?’ Juliet suggested, as she walked around the gardens of Hartley with her father on the Sunday afternoon.

‘That could exacerbate the situation, sweetheart,’ he replied. ‘She already sees you as having everything, while she’s got nothing. Don’t offer her money either.’

‘What a mess.’ There was genuine sympathy in Juliet’s voice.

‘At least you’re happily married, to a very nice man,’ Henry remarked, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m really happy you’ve made such a success of your life.’

Juliet, longing to tell him how barren and loveless her marriage really was, and how unhappy she felt at Glenmally, looked up at him, and knew she couldn’t. He’d be so disappointed by her failure, on top of Rosie’s.

Instead, she said lightly, ‘Then you and Mummy must come to stay again. Very soon. I do miss you, you know.’

Henry hugged her to his side. ‘We miss you too, sweetheart.’