Wicked Pleasures (13 page)

‘It’s a pretty name, Charlotte,’ said Angie carefully.

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ said Virginia. Her face was strained, white; she poured herself another glass of wine. ‘I chose it, insisted, they wanted to call her Alicia which is Alexander’s mother’s name, but I certainly wasn’t having that, it was the one thing I managed to be positive about. Charlotte Elizabeth, she’s called, Elizabeth after my mother, Charlotte because it was my favourite name.’

‘Was your mother there?’ asked Angie slightly awkwardly. She was finding this sudden insight into the neurotic behaviour of her apparently rather serene boss a little unnerving.

‘Yes, she came and stayed for two months.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘I think in spite of everything, she had never been happier. She’s a terrible terrible snob and being in an English stately home, in daily contact with an English earl, was sheer heaven for her. Even though she had a loopy daughter.’

‘But it didn’t help?’

‘No, nothing helped. A psychiatrist came, and talked to me endlessly. He said I was in shock. Well maybe I was. They gave me drugs, they didn’t help, not really. I just wandered about like a zombie, round the house and the grounds, not talking to anyone.’

‘I don’t understand why you were in shock,’ said Angie.

‘Oh, it was the ghastly birth,’ said Virginia quickly. ‘It was truly terrible, Angie, I can’t begin to tell you.’

Angie kept her counsel. She was obviously a stronger person than Virginia. Nevertheless she didn’t think she could take much more of this particular bit of the drama.

‘So what brought you round? Made you better?’ she asked politely.

‘Well, my mother had been talking to Alexander, a lot, obviously, and together they came up with the suggestion that I should go on a trip to New York, stay with my parents, leave the baby and everything behind. And when they suggested it to me, I just felt as if a great weight had rolled off me, it was like feeling a terrible pain begin to ease. I couldn’t wait to get away. Although as we drove away, I did cry, I can still remember crying, I wouldn’t let Alexander come to the airport, and I cried when I said goodbye, and the minute we got to the top of the Great Drive – oh, Angie, you must come to Hartest soon, so all these names mean something to you – I just stopped, stopped crying, that is, and there was another great weight gone.’

‘Don’t you like Hartest?’ said Angie. ‘I thought you loved it.’

‘Oh, I do,’ said Virginia, ‘I do love it. But it’s – well, it’s very demanding. When I first saw it, when Alexander brought me home, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that anything so lovely, not just the house, but the lake, and the park, and the lodges, everything, could be my home, be mine. I cried. I remember Alexander saying that it brought tears to his eyes, every time he returned to it, and it did to mine. But – well, it’s a lot to live with. Or it seemed it then. I’m getting used to it now.’

‘And the trip to New York cured you?’

‘No, not quite. I did feel better. Gradually. Seeing old friends, easing off the pills. But there were still problems. My father, he’s always been very critical of me, didn’t approve of my running away, as he put it. He kept saying I looked all right and he thought I was a fraud. Lightheartedly, but meaning it, you know? That didn’t exactly help. And my mother didn’t really understand. And she fussed and fussed, checking up on my pills and telling me I was drinking too much.’

‘Oh really?’ Angie looked at her thoughtfully.

‘Yes. So silly. No, it was Baby who really cracked it. He took me out to lunch at the Oyster Bar at Grand Central Station, it’s just the greatest place, Angie, you’d love it, I’ll never forget it, and bought me oysters, the first of the season, and said what he thought would be a great idea was if I went back to work. He said Mary Rose was working and it was all fine, and it did her good. Mind you, Mary Rose, that’s Baby’s wife, is a terrible pain in the – in the…’

‘Arse?’ said Angie helpfully.

‘Yes, just about there. She delivered Freddy, that’s their baby, in three hours flat, and she kept telling me so, in tones that implied if I’d been more careful and prepared better I’d have done the same. Well next time, she maybe won’t be so lucky.’

‘Let’s hope,’ said Angie. ‘Anyway, Baby – Virginia, why on earth is he called that?’

‘Oh, it’s because when he was tiny, and he was called Fred, all the first-born sons are, he was called Baby Fred and then at Harvard he was the youngest player on the football team, and it kind of went on from there. It suits him,’ she added vaguely.

Angie thought that if Baby was six foot four and huge with it, as Alexander
had said, this was a little unlikely, but she didn’t like to say so. Baby was obviously beyond criticism, at least as far as Virginia was concerned.

‘Well anyway, Baby thought you should go back to work?’

‘Yes. I was saying the days at Hartest were so long, and I had to go back and I didn’t know that I could, I was so afraid of getting depressed again. And Baby said working would keep the days a whole lot shorter. It seemed sensible, I did miss my work, and I was lonely, terribly lonely, I found the English people I met, neighbours, old friends of Alexander’s, nice but not really my sort of people. But I thought Alexander would be very against it. Anyway, I called him, and talked to him for ages, and I could tell he had great reservations, but he was terrific. He really was. I told him about how I was scared of coming back, and how much I would like to get back to my design work and he said of course if I really wanted to, then we should consider it. He said he’d been worrying about me being bored and lonely; he said he quite understood about my difficulties making friends; but he said he was worried about Charlotte. That I’d neglect her. I promised I wouldn’t, and that there was Nanny, and he said he’d talk to Nanny, and she, bless her, said she thought it was a very good idea. She’s my best friend here, Angie, her and you. So that was that, really. And suddenly I felt brave enough to come back. But I’m afraid he still doesn’t really like it. Especially his daughter being raised by her nanny rather than her mother. Originally, we thought Charlotte and Nanny could come to London on Sunday evening with me, but she increasingly stays in the country. Well, everyone knows the country air is better for children, don’t they? And Alexander certainly prefers to think of his daughter growing up in the house that he is so famously in love with. Just the same, he doesn’t like it, but then he’s frightened of the alternative. And so am I. God, look at the time. Angie, I’m sorry. I’d run you home, but I’ve had just a bit too much to drink. I’ll call you a cab.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Angie, ‘I’ve enjoyed it. And I don’t need a cab. I’m having a drink with M. Wetherly at the Carlton Tower. I can walk. I’ll enjoy it, honestly.’

Walking quite slowly up Sloane Street, she thought how bizarre it was that someone as rich and blessed as Virginia should claim as her best friends two women as far removed from her in age and situation as it was possible for them to be.

Angie noticed a change in Virginia as the year wore on. She seemed more confident, altogether happier; Angie put it down to her increased fame and success; since the success of the hotel she had designed for M. Wetherly, offers poured in almost every day, and they were even trying to work out if they should get a third person in to help (a notion Angie was half pleased about, half resistant to) when Virginia came down rather late to the office one morning halfway through August looking pale and told Angie she was almost certainly pregnant. ‘I’m over three weeks late, and I’ve just been sick,’ she said proudly.

‘Oh Virginia, that’s really nice,’ said Angie, slightly awkwardly. Congratulating people on prospective parenthood was slightly outside her sphere
of experience. ‘How do you feel? Oh, that’s silly, you’ve just been sick. Sit down, I’ll get you some water or something.’

‘You’re an angel, could it be herb tea? Camomile, I think. I don’t feel too bad. Not really. I haven’t had it confirmed yet, well I haven’t had any tests, but I really don’t think I need to. I went to see my gynaecologist yesterday, that’s where I was, not with terrible Lady Twynam at all. I called my mother last night to tell her, and she said Mary Rose was pregnant too. Isn’t that odd?’

‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ said Angie.

‘She’s just about a month ahead of me. I’m awfully glad. I’ve got the impression recently that Baby was just – well, rather depressed about their marriage. But my mother says he’s like a dog with three tails. So that’s really nice.’

‘Um – how does Alexander feel?’

‘Well, I only told him last night as well. He’s terribly thrilled. Praying for a boy already, of course.’

‘Of course. Well, I’m sure you’ll manage it now.’

‘Let’s hope.’

‘Well,’ said Angie, ‘let’s hope you stay – well this time.’

‘Yes.’

‘I think you’re very brave, Virginia.’

‘Well, we have to provide Hartest with an heir somehow. I’m anxious, of course I am, but I think I can manage things better. I’ve been reading a lot about natural childbirth and I really think it will help me.’

‘Well I think it’s terribly exciting,’ said Angie, ‘and you must let me do everything I can to help. Maybe we should go ahead and take on this new person. As long as it’s clearly understood she’s junior to me,’ she added with a grin.

‘No, Angie, I’ve been thinking a bit about that. If – as – I’m going to have two children, I don’t think I can be quite as much the career woman as I have been lately. Don’t look like that, it’s all right, I’m not going to pack it in and take to weaving my own nappies. And you’re certainly going to be busier than ever. But I do think we should ease off a bit. Not get any bigger at least. So I’ve made a conscious decision that for the next year or so we’ll only take on jobs – and people – we really like the look of. How does that sound?’

‘Absolutely fine,’ said Angie, trying to appear enthusiastic.

A few days later Alexander came up to Eaton Place. Virginia was upstairs when he arrived, having a rest after lunch. She was, despite all her protestations, feeling extremely unwell. Alexander on the other hand looked wonderful, tanned and happy, and very relaxed.

‘Hallo, Angie my dear, how are you?’ he said, wandering through the big office, idly leafing through the colour swatches on her desk. ‘Ghastly, most of these things, aren’t they? Virginia once threatened to let her skills loose on Hartest. Fortunately I managed to dissuade her – tactfully, I hope.’

‘Don’t you like what she does?’ asked Angie, genuinely surprised.

‘Not much of it, no, between you and me. Oh, I’m sure it’s very clever, but
I have to say that most of it is very vulgar. Well, let’s say it’s not for me. Anyway, where is she?’

‘She’s lying down for a bit. She doesn’t feel terribly well.’

‘No, I’m afraid pregnancy doesn’t really suit her,’ said Alexander with a sigh. ‘Let’s hope this time we have a boy, and she can relax.’

‘Can’t – couldn’t a girl inherit Hartest?’ asked Angie, half seriously.

Alexander turned to her, and she was genuinely startled by the expression on his face. It was almost fiercely intense, and beneath the smile he forced it to wear, bleak and sad; his mouth had a tight white line round it.

‘Absolutely not,’ he said, ‘it’s completely out of the question. It isn’t just Hartest, it’s the title. There has to be a male heir, it’s imperative. I – and Virginia of course – both understand that. It is our prime role at the moment, to provide an heir.’

‘But surely,’ said Angie, genuinely intrigued and puzzled by his emotion, ‘I can see it would be ideal – important even, but if she – you – don’t have a boy, you don’t. I imagine a girl – well Charlotte – could inherit the title, couldn’t she? Or is there a cousin or anything?’

‘There is no cousin, and I have no intention of allowing the name of Caterham to die out through being passed down a female line,’ said Alexander. He was making a great effort now to sound more lighthearted; only his eyes, harsh and sad, gave him away. ‘That seems to me to be taking female emancipation a little too far. No, we shall have a boy, of course we shall. My friend the Earl of Dudley has five daughters to date. I believe he is confident there is a boy on the way now. Anyway, it certainly isn’t anything you should bother your extremely pretty little head about. Now I shall go and see the mother of my future son and heir to try to persuade her to come to Hartest for a few weeks until she’s feeling better.’

‘Oh, do,’ said Angie, ‘I can easily hold the fort here, there’s nothing special going on. I’ll be happy to cope, really.’

‘I’m sure you will. And thank you.’ He was his old self now, easy and charming; but Angie felt chilled, somehow, disturbed by their conversation.

Later that afternoon she wanted a telephone number urgently; a client phoned in a fury, saying the builders were insisting on re-laying a floor and it was not in the specification Virginia had sent her. Angie knew it was and she wanted to contact the architect to get him to confirm it to the client. The number was not for some reason on the Rolodex, nor in any of the files; worried, thinking Virginia would be well rested, and that Alexander had gone, she went out into the hall and quietly up the stairs to the wide landing where Virginia’s bedroom stood, at the front of the house, overlooking the square. She waited before knocking, hoping to hear movement inside, or Virginia’s radio on – she listened constantly to classical music on the Third Programme; instead she heard Virginia’s voice: fretful, faintly fractious, but with the steely underlying note that Angie had come to know extremely well. Never being over-scrupulous in matters of personal privacy, Angie listened.

‘Alexander, please listen to me. I don’t think you’re taking me very seriously.
I want to have the baby at home. Not here, but at Hartest. I think, well I know, I shall cope better, feel less frightened.’

‘What, in the house?’

‘Yes, in the house.’

‘Oh, darling, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Supposing something went wrong.’

‘I’m sure it won’t. I’ve already talked to a gynaecologist about it.’

‘Mr Dunwoody?’

‘Not Mr Dunwoody. I never want to see Mr Dunwoody again.’