The Old Jest (14 page)

‘Visitors fuss him a little at the moment.'

‘We'll come and have dinner. How about that?'

‘That would be lovely.'

‘Saturday after the races?'

‘Perfect.'

The tall Miss Brabazon leaned across the bonnet.

‘My dear … Do get in, George, and stop fidgeting round like that … did we tell you about the Shinners the other night trying to pinch the car?'

Aunt Mary looked alarmed.

‘My dear Celia …'

‘There we were all dressed up on our way to dinner at the Pilkingtons, the night after we got back from France … just driving along the back road to Roundwood. They'd pushed this cart across the road so we had to stop and then they jumped out of the ditch at us waving guns …'

‘I screamed,' said George complacently.

‘What did you do?'

‘They had those scarves draped all over their faces and one of them said … I must say, very politely … “I beg your pardon, Miss, but we want your car” …'

‘Imagine,' said George.

‘My dear, I just put out my hand and pulled down the scarf and who was it but Tommy Roche from our back cottages. If you lay one finger on this car, This Car, I said, I'll tell your mother what you're up to when she's not looking and she'll tan your rebel backside for you.'

Aunt Mary laughed.

‘Honestly, Celia, you have a nerve! What happened?'

‘And get that cart out of the way, I said. We're late for dinner already.'

‘And they did,' said George. ‘Imagine.'

‘Thank you, I said, very politely. Any other car … any other … the Morris, for instance … but not This Car. You should know perfectly well. After all, he's a sort of a household pet. “I'm sorry, Miss,” said Tommy, “we thought youse was still in France.” So we drove on. I never heard if they got a car or not, or what they wanted it for. Something terribly nefarious, I'm sure.'

‘Wasn't that a scream?'

‘Did you go to the police?'

‘Don't be silly, Mary dear. They might have got into trouble.'

She gave the car a final loving rub and jumped into the driving seat.

‘We'll call for you on Saturday. We'll go in this car. I was crippled after the last time we went to the Curragh in yours.'

She pulled on her gloves, smoothing the wrinkles out of each finger with care.

‘It's your long legs, rather than Mary's car, you have to blame for that.'

‘Rubbish!'

She pressed the starter button and the car began to vibrate.

‘Ah! Good old fellow.'

She put her head out of the window and spoke in as low a voice as she could manage.

‘Whatever you do, Mary dear, don't worry. Everything is going to be all right. We'll have dinner on Saturday; don't forget to tell Bridie. Goodbye, Nancy, look after your aunt.'

She put a hand on the horn, which snarled gently, more like a tiger than a horse, Nancy thought, then they were off in a flurry of gravel and smoke.

‘Phew!' said Nancy.

‘She drives that thing as if it were a stage coach.' Aunt Mary still waved her hand after her friends. ‘I've told them about …'

‘Mmmm!'

‘After all, I've known them all my life.'

‘I can't imagine them ever being children.'

‘So, I thought I should tell them …'

They went into the house. Grandfather's voice, singing softly, reached them as they entered the hall. Nancy wondered how tall her father really was.

‘ … I'd have told them before except they were away. Asked their … think they have a little house for us. Isn't that splendid. Over near Laragh. No one's been in it for several years so it needs a lot of work done on it.'

‘I think I'll go up to town tomorrow afternoon. Can I do any messages for you?'

‘I really shuddered at the thought of all that searching. Of course we won't have the sea, but I expect we'll get used to that …'

‘Mary, is that you?'

‘I'll go up on the two o'clock train.'

‘Yes, pet, I'm just coming … or railway either, but he'll just have to find something else to look at. Bridie has cousins over that way. It sounds …'

‘Mary!'

‘… ideal. Don't you think?'

‘Yes. Anything in town?'

‘Perhaps library books, dear. Coming, father. Coming this minute.'

She disappeared into the drawing room.

Nancy ran upstairs to her bedroom and looked out of the window. She saw below her the sloping fields scattered with neat houses, flowerbeds, rose pergolas, rockeries, here and there a fanciful summerhouse; washing floated on discreetly hidden lines, motor cars were parked on gravel sweeps, and high hedges, neatly trimmed, not a twig out of place, kept the neighbours safely insulated from each other. There would have to be tennis courts, too, she thought and kitchen gardens, and the sun would have to be ordered to shine permanently.

If my father is taller than the tall Miss Brabazon, he must be very tall indeed. A skyscraper of a man. Taller than Cassius on the beach. Taller than Harry.

‘Yoo-hoo!'

Taller than Mr De Valera, of whom she had seen photographs, standing on various platforms head and shoulders above his companions.

‘Yoo-hoo!'

A soft ball of earth hit the wall beside her and scattered on to the sill and her hands.

‘Oh!'

‘You look like Rapunzel leaning out of her window, only your hair's not long enough.'

Harry stood below on the path.

‘Hello. I always thought that was a silly story anyway, because by the time her hair had grown that long she'd have been about a hundred. So would he. Far too old to be carrying on like that.'

‘Magic. It was all magic. Now that you're back from whatever far-off dream you were in come and have a swim. I feel like a swim.'

‘He'd have had to stand at the bottom of the tower weeping piteously about having wasted his life waiting for her hair to grow … Oh save me, God, from extreme old age!'

‘Nancy, wake up. Will you or won't you swim?'

‘Are you speaking to me?'

‘Don't be an ass. Come and swim.'

‘What about Maeve?'

‘She's just had her hair done. I came down in the train with her.'

Nancy slammed the window down.

Hair done, indeed! She pulled her bathing togs and her towel off the hook on the back of the door and ran down the stairs.

‘I presumed you were coming.' His voice was peevish. At any moment, if she wasn't careful, he might stop speaking to her again.

She took his arm and marched him across the terrace and down the steps.

‘I can never resist a swim. It's going to be freezing though. The wind is blowing straight in from the sea.'

‘Darling.' Aunt Mary's voice called from the window.

Nancy waved her towel in the air.

‘A very quick swim.'

‘Don't be late for dinner. Hello, Harry.'

‘Hello, Mary. I promise she won't be late. A quick dip. In and out. Straight out.'

‘Don't stand about in your wet togs, dear. That's an east wind.'

‘Fuss, fuss, fuss,' said Nancy. ‘Don't do this, don't do that. I'm not an idiot.'

‘You're not always very sensible.'

‘Immature, you called me.'

‘That's right.'

‘Well, I'll tell you something. I'm not going to be immature for long. I've made up my mind. I think … well … first of all I'll lose my virginity, that's a terrible liability, and then I'll join the Republicans. What do you think of that for a plan?'

She looked at him out of the side of her eye. He looked angry.

‘You need a good spanking.'

He unhooked himself from her arm and walked sternly on down the hill in front of her.

‘Can't you take a joke? Or two?'

‘I deplore bad taste. Particularly from a child like yourself. You don't know what you're talking about.'

‘What's bad taste about either virginity or Republicanism?'

‘I don't know why I put up with you.'

She ran up beside him and put her arm through his again.

‘I do. It's because I love you and you're secretly rather pleased and flattered. You love to see the admiration glowing in my eyes.'

‘Rot!'

He began to laugh and squeezed her arm close in to his side.

‘You're a terrible leg-puller, Nancy. I don't suppose I have much sense of humour. I've always been told I haven't.'

‘Won't it be amazing when this field is all covered with desirable residences?'

He didn't answer.

‘We are probably at this moment striding,' she strode for a moment, ‘across someone's precious rosebed, trampling the pink and yellow hybrid teas into the earth. Getting thorns into our legs. Or …' she let go of him and began to run, ‘running through the dining room, where some startled maid is laying the table for dinner, polishing up the glasses with the corner of her apron. Oops, sorry!' She stopped dead in front of Harry. ‘Close your eyes like a good chap, Madam has been discovered in her bath. Only a sponge to protect herself.' She climbed over the gate and out on to the road. Harry stood in the field and looked at her.

‘Yes.' He said. He opened the gate and walked politely through it and then closed it behind him.

‘Maeve told me that she's told you.'

‘Over there,' she pointed across the road to the stretch of field below the railway, ‘the houses will be a little less superior because the smoke from the passing trains will be a nuisance to everyone. Smuts will float in through the open windows. Washing will get …'

‘It's a really very good idea. Good for everyone.'

‘Of course.'

‘What you might call a Godsend for Mary.'

‘Absolutely.'

‘I'm glad you're being sensible about it.'

‘I am being amazingly sensible. How long have you known about it?'

Much to her amazement, he blushed slightly.

‘Oh … a while.'

They reached the path under the arch. She bent down to take off her shoes. She was never able to bear sand in her shoes, rubbing and grinding away at the soles of her feet and getting in between her toes. Under the arch the sand was always cold and slightly damp. When it rained, the water dripped down through the cracks between the sleepers and it never seemed to dry away. A boy and a girl leaned against the stone wall of the arch whispering to each other. Far away along the beach a man threw a stick for two dogs; everyone else in the world had gone home. The wind was bitter. Nancy wriggled out of her clothes and into her togs. Harry already had his on under his trousers. He stood waiting for her, looking beautiful and serious, the sun making a halo behind his head. She picked up his hand and kissed it.

‘Come,' she said, starting to run towards the sea. ‘This is probably the last bathe we will enjoy together. Tomorrow I'm thinking of starting on a life of crime. Maturing crime.'

He took a hold of his sense of humour and laughed.

‘Ha hahaha!'

They ran together into the retreating sea.

A cloudless day.

At ten o'clock she went down to the railway bridge as he had told her to. She watched him coming along the track with quick confident steps. He covered two sleepers with each stride she noticed. As he came closer, she saw that he was wearing a tweed suit and a brown hat, which he took off and waved at her. He looked for all the world like a country gentleman out for some exercise, only he lacked the dog at his heels. In one hand he held a small attache case.

‘Good morning.' He put his hat back on his head again.

It was a bit like being in Grafton Street, she thought.

Down below them on the beach the horrid little Fenton children were throwing sand at each other, while their nanny read a book on a brown rug. He took an envelope out of his pocket and held it out to her. She took it and put it into her pocket without looking at it. That seemed the right thing to do. They stood looking at each other. It was odd to see him dressed like that.

He was wearing what looked very like a regimental tie. She wondered where he had kept his clothes over the last week, they looked so neat and cared for.

‘I presume you know Bewley's Café in Grafton Street?'

‘Bewley's Oriental Cafe,' she said somewhat idiotically. ‘Yes.'

‘You go through the shop into the café at the back.'

She nodded.

‘Sit down at the first table on the right inside the door and give the envelope to the young man who will be there. He'll buy you a cup of coffee, or tea if you prefer.'

She wanted to ask what to do if there was no young man there, or if the table were full, but she presumed that all that had been taken care of.

‘Have you got that?'

‘First table on the right. Young man.'

‘I am very grateful.'

He took his hat off once more and bowed slightly towards her.

‘If you wouldn't mind walking on the beach for a few minutes. It would be a good idea.'

She slithered down through the rocks and stood on the sand watching him stride along the line towards the station. When she could no longer see him, she took the envelope out of her pocket and looked at it. There was nothing written on it at all. Disappointing in a way.

She arrived home as Aunt Mary and her grandfather were having their morning cup of coffee.

‘I saw you,' said the old man, as she came into the room.

Her heart gave a little jump.

‘Yes, darling. He says he saw you talking to a man on the railway line.'

‘I just said good morning. That was all. It was just a man walking along.'

‘I saw you,' said Grandfather, ‘talking to a man.'

‘Good morning was all I said. He … um … took off his hat.'

‘You can't be too careful whom you talk to,' said Aunt Mary.