Wicked Pleasures (63 page)

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Authors: Penny Vincenzi

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BOOK: Wicked Pleasures
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‘It’s great to see you. What a day for the family.’ If he had any idea how ironic his words were, Georgina thought, he certainly wasn’t showing it. ‘Two new brothers for you, Melissa. And you, Kendrick. Now before you meet the boys –’ he made them sound like baseball players, ready sprung from the womb –‘I want you all to meet Angie. Max you’ve met, haven’t you, darling?’

‘Oh, I have,’ said Angie. ‘Hallo, Max. Nice to see you again.’

‘Congratulations, Aunt Angela,’ said Max gravely, bending over her to kiss her, handing her the large bouquet of flowers they had all clubbed together and bought. Georgina couldn’t see his face, but there was something in his voice that was unfamiliar: something grown-up and infinitely more worldly.

‘And this is Kendrick,’ Baby was saying, smiling proudly and indulgently, ‘and this is Melissa. And Angie, this is Georgina, Virginia’s second daughter. I don’t know if you ever met her.’

‘Yes, I did.’ Angie smiled at Georgina. Her voice was very attractive, slightly throaty, her accent absolutely bland and unplaceable. ‘Hallo, Georgina. But she wouldn’t remember me. She was around eighteen months old, I think.

Anyway, it’s really nice to see you again. Oh, these flowers are just beautiful.

How very kind of you all.’

They were actually, compared with the splendour of some of the offerings, rather modest; Georgina felt she was being patronized, and smiled back, rather uncertainly. Angie turned her brilliant smile on Kendrick. ‘And this is the big brother. Hi, Kendrick. And Melissa. It’s very nice to meet you, Melissa. I didn’t expect you to be so grown-up.’

She could hardly have said anything better to Melissa, who beamed at her ecstatically. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I am fourteen, you know. What do we call you? Aunt Angela or what?’

‘Oh please!’ said Angie, laughing. ‘I have absolutely no wish to be an aunt to such a grown-up collection of people. No, you must call me Angie. Mustn’t they, darling?’

She put out her hand to Baby, who took it and kissed it. Kendrick looked down at his feet and flushed. Melissa sparkled at them.

‘Can we see the babies then? I can’t wait. When were they born?’

‘Yesterday morning, at five o’clock,’ said Angie, pushing a bell by her bed. ‘Ten minutes between them. Early little birds, weren’t they, Baby? Your father was hoping to stay in bed and leave me here, doing all the work, Melissa, but I wouldn’t let him. He was there, right through to the end, holding my hand. Didn’t faint or scream or anything. Very brave, weren’t you, darling?’

Poor Kendrick, thought Georgina. He looked as if he might be sick or pass out himself. She was standing by him; she took his hand and squeezed it. He looked at her and smiled gratefully.

‘Oh now look, here they are,’ said Angie, as the door opened, ‘thank you so much, Nurse.’ She took one baby in each arm, and cradled them, sinking back into her pillows. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, I must just check their name tags, I can’t tell them apart myself yet. Oh, yes, this is Sam, already renamed Spike by his father, and this is Hugh. Aren’t they fine-looking chaps?’

Georgina looked at the two awesomely identical little creatures, swaddled up in blankets, their primeval features crushed into concentrated sleep, and felt a sudden and terrible sweep of sadness.

‘Can I hold one?’ Melissa was saying. ‘Oh, please, do let me.’

‘Probably best not, just for now. They’ll wake up and start screaming, and then this nice party will have to come to an end,’ said Angie. She looked down at the babies slightly warily, as if she expected them to break, or take off. Georgina, pulling herself together, forcing herself to smile at her, thought that Angie wouldn’t mind the babies crying, someone else could see to that; what she would mind was having the charming tableau in which she starred destroyed.

‘They suit you,’ said Max, slightly uncannily echoing Georgina’s thoughts, smiling at Angie with that same new, worldly smile. ‘Very nice accessories, Angie. Great picture.’

Angie’s eyes as she smiled back at him were interestingly thoughtful. ‘Thank you, Max. Done any nice jobs lately?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘yeah, I was just in New York.’

‘Oh really? Well that must have been very interesting. Baby, could you take this child a moment, I’m really uncomfortable.’

‘Yes, darling, of course. Are you getting tired? Would you like everyone to go?’

‘No of course not. Don’t be silly.’ But as she settled back on her pillows and took the baby, she winced slightly; she was clearly genuinely uncomfortable. Well, thought Georgina, it was hardly surprising; giving birth to over eleven pounds’ worth of babies was quite an undertaking.

The babies woke simultaneously and began crying. A nurse put her head round the door. ‘You’re going to have to feed these babies,’ she said, ‘they’re starving.’

‘Right,’ said Angie with a resigned sigh, ‘does anyone mind?’ She started easing one brown breast out of her nightdress; Kendrick, clearly terrified, looked out of the window very fixedly. Georgina noticed that Max on the other hand stood looking rather amusedly and interestedly as Angie took the first baby and, oddly tender suddenly, offered a large dark nipple into its small rooting mouth. ‘There you go, Spikey,’ she said, ‘that’ll do for now. I can’t do a duet yet. Nurse, take Hugh, would you, and keep him quiet.’

‘I think we should go,’ said Max suddenly. ‘You’ve got a lot to do here, Aunt Angela. We’re not helping. Come on, you guys.’

‘Don’t call me that, Max,’ said Angie, looking at him. She was smiling, but her eyes were sharp. ‘I really don’t like it.’

‘Sorry. Can’t seem able to help it.’

‘I think Max is right,’ said Baby, ‘it might be an idea if you all went. Very thoughtful of you, Max. Give me a kiss, Melissa. Bye, Kendrick.’

‘Oh, by the way,’ said Max, looking over his shoulder as they left the room, ‘we’re having a party for Alexander, next month. Fiftieth birthday. Charlotte’s coming over, and Freddy of course. You will both come, won’t you?’

Kendrick and Melissa stayed behind for a moment talking to Baby; Georgina and Max went down the corridor. ‘Max!’ said Georgina, looking over her shoulder. ‘Max, that was naughty. We haven’t even checked with Kendrick and the others that they want Angie.’

‘Why on earth shouldn’t they?’ said Max, his blue eyes very wide, very innocent. ‘She’s family now. We have to have Angie, whether we like it or not.’

‘And you do, don’t you?’ said Georgina, looking at him sharply.

‘Yes, I do quite,’ said Max.

Apart from a slight unease about the presence of Angie, and Mrs Wicks (who was now family in Baby’s view and had been invited at his request), Georgina was looking forward to the party. A lot of the planning had fallen on her, and she had spent hours with Mrs Tallow and Nanny, sorting out food, and with Tallow, sorting out wine; Alexander was touchingly pleased by the whole idea. They had wondered about making it a surprise, but it had seemed impossible; and in fact Georgina was glad he knew, looking forward to it had seemed to cheer him up, and he was even making suggestions, asking if it could be black tie – ‘It’s ages since we had a smart dinner party here’ – and taking a great interest in the guest list.

‘It’s so nice of Freddy to come, really charming. And I thought it might be nice if we invited the Dunbars. I would like that very much. Would you mind?’

‘Well of course I wouldn’t mind, Daddy, I love them both, specially funny old Martin, but they’re not family, are they? Well, not strictly family.’

‘No, they’re not, but Mummy was so terribly fond of them both. It would be a nice sort of link with her, I feel. And Catriona was so good to me when Mummy died. I couldn’t have managed without her. I just feel they would make the evening complete somehow.’

‘Well, it’s your evening,’ said Georgina, kissing him, ‘and you must complete it however you like. And they’re certainly more family than Angie’s gran.’

‘Yes,’ said Alexander, who had taken the news that Mrs Wicks was to be present with great equanimity. ‘Yes, indeed. I am looking forward to seeing Angie again. I always rather liked her, you know.’

‘No,’ said Georgina, surprised. ‘No, I didn’t know.’

The day of the party was perfect: ‘Very mists and mellow fruitfulness,’ said Melissa.

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ said Max.

‘Oh, you wouldn’t recognize it,’ she said loftily. ‘You’re so illiterate, Max. It’s Keats. “Ode to Autumn”. Isn’t it, Uncle Alexander?’

‘Quite right,’ said Alexander, smiling at her across the breakfast table. He was in a perfect mood. Georgina had gone riding with him earlier and they had cantered through the parkland and up the hill to the top of the Great Drive. Hartest sat below them, looking more than usually as if it had been carved out of the landscape itself, the grey stone merging into the drifting mist, the windows reflecting the hazy light of the clearing sun. ‘It’s so lovely isn’t it?’ she said. ‘I never stop thinking how lucky we are.’

Alexander smiled at her, put out his hand to touch hers.

‘Good,’ he said, ‘that’s exactly how I want you to feel. All of you.’

They sent him off after lunch, to do things on the estate; Georgina phoned Martin Dunbar and asked him to keep Alexander busy. ‘He’ll just get in the way,’ she said, ‘offering to help and everything. Do you mind, Martin?’

‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘You know I’d do anything for you, Georgina.’

Georgina was surprised; he was not usually so effusive. Perhaps he’d had rather too much wine with his lunch.

Kendrick had decorated the front hall with great swathes of greenery from the woods, and Melissa had spent the afternoon fixing fifty candles into fifty saucers, and setting them all around the Rotunda and up the stairs. Baby and Angie arrived at five o’clock, and Baby and Kendrick moved the piano from the morning room into the Rotunda. Baby had promised to play after dinner, and people could dance if they liked. ‘But not “You’re the Tops”,’ said Georgina. ‘It will simply upset Daddy.’

Charlotte, who had arrived the day before with Freddy, and had plainly been expecting to take over everything, had simply told Georgina after the first hour that she had done a terrific job, and asked, quite humbly, what she should do. Georgina was so thrown by this she couldn’t think of anything, and Charlotte and a distant Freddy were reduced to helping Mrs Tallow in the kitchen.

Charlotte seemed altogether not quite herself, slightly subdued, rather jumpy, and considerably thinner. Every time the phone rang, she looked very edgy, and at one point she disappeared in her car and went off for an hour or so, returning looking rather more relaxed. She said she had been for a long walk to get over her jet lag; Georgina was surprised, Charlotte’s constitution was of such strength that she had never been troubled by jet lag before. She was
clearly wary of Freddy, and there was something of a frost between them; they avoided one another whenever possible, and Charlotte was inclined to shoot sharp little glances at him before she spoke; if Georgina hadn’t known her sister better, she would have thought she was afraid of Freddy.

Tallow had lit log fires in all the downstairs rooms; by dusk, the house was filled with a sweet-smelling warmth. Alexander, who had been sitting in the library with two of the dogs, stood up abruptly at seven o’clock and said, ‘I’m going up to get ready. Otherwise I shall fall asleeep and be a pooper at my own party.’

He put his arm round Georgina’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘I know you’ve done most of the work,’ he said quietly, ‘and thank you. Give your old father a kiss.’

Georgina gave him a kiss. She watched him as he walked out of the library, in his shabby old cardigan, and his socks pulled up over his jeans, and thought how much she loved him, and she felt very aware suddenly of the sense of family in the house, of closeness and happiness. It didn’t always work, in fact it very often didn’t, but when it did, it was unbeatable, the most tangible sense of security, of strength. Nothing could threaten them, nothing could harm them. It was a feeling of pure and very gentle joy.

Charlotte stood up.

‘Quiet please,’ she said. Everyone was quiet. Charlotte had that effect on people.

‘Now,’ she said, ‘I certainly don’t intend to make a speech.’

‘Oh, what a shame,’ called out Max, grinning at her over his glass.

Everyone looked relaxed and happy, Georgina thought. It had been a magically successful evening. Even Martin, usually so shy, was sitting next to Angie and talking more animatedly to her than Georgina had ever seen him.

When he was not talking to Angie, he was listening to Mrs Wicks, who was on the other side of him and who clearly saw it as her social duty to put him at his ease. Mrs Wicks was also having a wonderful time, drinking glass after glass of Dubonnet and bitter lemon, which went down much better with rich food, she said, than wine. She had arrived in a hired Rolls with a uniformed chauffeur, wearing a bejewelled crinoline that would not have disgraced the Queen Mother, and bearing a huge bunch of red and silver balloons saying ‘Happy 50th Birthday’. She had insisted on tying these to the rail of the flying staircase; it was a tribute to Alexander’s great courtesy that he thanked her most graciously and agreed that they did indeed brighten the room up a bit.

Georgina stopped looking at everyone and turned her attention back to Charlotte, who, she was aware, was looking at her rather pointedly.

‘I just wanted to say two things: first thank you to everyone who’s helped to make this party such a success, and especially Georgina who’s done most of the organizing. Georgina, everyone!’

‘Georgina,’ said everyone, and raised their glasses to her. The tribute was totally unexpected; she looked at them in the candlelight and it blurred with her tears. ‘Thank you,’ she said rather weakly.

‘And the only other thing I am going to say,’ Charlotte’s crisp voice broke through her emotion, ‘is would you raise your glasses to Alexander on this perfectly lovely occasion and say, yet again, happy birthday.’

Everyone stood then, smiling, and toasted Alexander, saying his name first disparately, then in unison; he sat smiling, looking with a charming and patent delight into the faces of his family, flattered, youthened by the candlelight.

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