Wild Lily (19 page)

The Lockwood estate, including the house and the workers’ cottages was finally put up for sale nearly three years later. By then the whole place had run wild, and the beautiful lawns round the house had been cut by Mr Butterworth for hay every summer. But there were no eager buyers, only a handful of developers who soon realized that the cost of demolishing the fortress-like house would far outweigh the profit from building new. There was anxious talk of it being used for a lunatic asylum or even a prison, but the affluent house-owners in the surrounding area made a strong and successful stand against that idea, and even a man who wanted to start a private boarding school soon saw that the architecture was not given to inspiring youngsters, so dark and forbidding. But one day a gang of demolition workers moved in with their impressive machinery and word came that the site was to be cleared, and the workers in the cottages were given a year’s notice to quit. Nobody knew who had bought it.

With Clarence’s roll of banknotes still sitting in a vase on
top of the kitchen cupboard, Lily was not worried by the notice. She had been looking for a convenient cottage to buy ever since she had received the money, but there had been no hurry and she was loath to leave the only home she had ever known. Amazingly, Squashy got himself a job with the demolition firm, trundling stone and bricks in a wheelbarrow to the waiting lorries, the first time in his life that he had found anything so satisfying to his simple brain which he actually got paid for doing. Barky and Ludo followed and became the mascots of the workforce, getting fat on titbits from the men’s bait at lunch time.

As for Antony …

‘Far better that he had killed himself properly,’ Simon said. ‘Instead of only half killing himself.’

‘No!’

‘Well, I wouldn’t want you to see him, that’s for sure. I shan’t take you, Lily, however much you scream and shout.’

Lily had begged and pleaded, to no avail. Antony had been in a London hospital for nearly three years now. Lily, who had never been to London in her life, had set off one day the previous year to visit him with one of Clarence’s notes in her purse, got hopelessly lost as soon as she got off the train at Waterloo, asked for help, was manhandled, robbed of her money and only saved from being seriously assaulted by the fortuitous arrival of a bowler-hatted gentleman with a ferocious boxing talent. He had rescued her, comforted her, taken her back to Waterloo and put her on a train for home with a cheese sandwich and a couple of half-crowns. Gabriel, hearing
the story, thrashed her, locked her up until he was tired of cooking his own meals and, when he let her out, forbade her ever to give another thought to the good-for-nothing Antony Sylvester, or else he would send her to live with his old aunt Enid in farthest Wales.

Lily, sobbing, had never heard of Aunt Enid – was he making her up? She knew he wouldn’t do it. But her brief experience of London and its ways did not encourage her to try again, although she never gave up thinking of Antony: the habit was too deeply engrained.

Keeping friendly with the Goldbeaters was her only way of keeping in touch. Simon had followed a good honours degree from Oxford with further study at a university in London and could visit Antony without too much inconvenience. He only went when hounded by his mother, for hospital visiting was not on his list of pleasurable pursuits, in no way to be compared with driving fast cars, playing golf, drinking, gambling and visiting nightclubs. But he was able to report back.

Mrs Goldbeater relayed the news to Lily. ‘Poor lad! I would go myself, Lily, sometimes, but that dreadful aunt of his is nearly always there, and I really cannot stand her. Of course, without her he would be doomed, wouldn’t he? She pays for all his treatment, the very best of care. He’d be dead without her, abandoned with the paupers, Eton boy or no Eton boy. Mr Goldbeater has been in a few times, but it depresses him so, and he says the poor boy never really knows who is there or not.’

He would know me! Lily always thought fiercely. His face
would light up! When she said this to Simon, Simon said simply, ‘Yes, Lily, I think it would.’

The two Americans, in spite of promises, had never taken her to see Antony, and only been to visit him themselves once or twice before packing up and going back to America. The escapade had shaken them badly and they felt, perhaps correctly, that they were under a cloud in Brooklands and that it would be much simpler to forget the whole thing back at home.

But the next time Lily saw Mrs Goldbeater she was told that Antony was being moved in May to a hospital in the country, a convalescent home near Richmond.

‘He has made some progress at last. They think that in a year or two he might be able to go home.’

‘He has no home.’

‘He has his Aunt Maud. She is his home now.’

‘I think he would rather die.’

‘The instinct to live is very strong, Lily, even when faced with the likes of Aunt Maud. The point is, there is no alternative for him.’

‘I would look after him!’

‘Talk sense, Lily! He will need nursing all his life. And that is very expensive. But perhaps you could visit, now that he is closer. Simon can take you the next time he goes. I will arrange it. But bear in mind, Lily, he’s probably not the Antony you used to know, not after all this long time.’

She spoke kindly, gently. She had visited Antony herself once, unfortunately at the same time as Aunt Maud, and the
visit had been so painful she had no wish to repeat it. But Aunt Maud was paying the unending hospital bills without demur and would take her nephew home with her when the time came, so how could any of them criticize her?

‘Do you ever hear from those American boys these days? They did visit Antony at first, didn’t they?’

‘Yes, they promised to collect me when they went again, but they never did. They said it would upset me.’

‘They were probably right. They must have felt responsible too, although of course it wasn’t their fault.’

‘They gave me some money. They were very rich.’

Lily knew that now she was going to buy a cottage, the whole village would wonder where she had got the money from, so best to set the gossips at rest in good time. Mrs Goldbeater would spread the news. No need to say they had taken a picture.

‘That was kind. We worry about how you are managing, Lily, now that your father is failing. If there’s anything—’

‘No, we’re all right. Squashy’s earning and I get plenty of jobs. We grow a lot of our own stuff and Mrs Butterworth sends things.’

‘Ah, poor Mrs Butterworth, she’s failing too these days, you know. Her husband is very worried about her. Of course, it’s not been the same at the farm since Sylvester went. It’s been very hard for them, Mrs Butterworth getting ill …’

She chuntered on and Lily excused herself, having extracted all she wanted and not bothered with village gossip. Simon might take her to visit Antony when he next came home: that
was the news she wanted. She would make quite sure that this time he wouldn’t be given a chance to opt out.

Of course he didn’t want to take her. He didn’t want to go at all, but was not without a sense of decency, given his public school upbringing.

‘I’ll take Melanie with me,’ he said to his mother. ‘Females don’t mind hospital visiting.’

‘You’ve got to take Lily. I promised her you would.’

‘Oh, Ma, honestly! You know what she’s like – she’s so wild! She’ll probably throw herself on him and cry and carry on—’

‘Just this once, Simon. She’s eighteen now, not a child any more. She’ll behave herself, I’m sure. It’s not asking too much. Then your duty is done.’

Simon knew when he was beaten. He hated seeing old Ant in the state he had come to, and had to try hard on his visits not to reveal the fantastic life he was living and arouse envy in poor Ant, which was almost impossible. What else was there to talk about now? He had considered, but never succumbed to the idea of taking Lily, but now his mother was adamant. If she was coming though, he doubted whether Melanie, his girlfriend now, would come too. Antony had always said he was going to marry Melanie – fat chance of that now. What an idiot he had been to half kill himself: the way he was now he would be better off dead. But he had rarely put his mind to doing anything properly, even committing suicide. Even the magical party in the grotto, he had only ordered things to be done, not done them himself. What a night that had been! Simon had to admit that without Antony the days of his youth
at home would have been incredibly dull. Oh yes, and he had learned to fly … give him that much.

When he saw Lily again he was thrown by her appearance. Melanie Marsden was milk and water beside this tough, gorgeous eighteen-year-old with her wild, unbobbed golden hair and confident, fierce blue gaze. She was no longer the gangly kid, but a tall, slender and striking young woman and – to Simon’s now adult, discerning eye – very sexually attractive. But he wasn’t going down that road.

‘I can come with you?’ Not a plea, but a command.

He laughed. ‘Yes. My ma insists I take you.’

Simon had been right; Melanie had decided not to come when she heard Lily was coming. So he drove Lily to the hospital, just the two of them, in his little sports car, enjoying showing it off to someone as admiring as Lily. Lily had scarcely slept since she knew that the date of the visit was planned and, now the time was so near, tried hard to keep herself calm and grown-up in Simon’s presence. But the excitement was a fire bubbling inside her, very hard to contain.

‘He’s starting to walk again, Ma says,’ Simon told her, ‘so that’s something.’

‘It’s been so long!’

‘Lucky he survived. At least, I suppose so, although sometimes I wonder – when I first saw him I assumed he would die. Broken spine, pelvis, legs – just about everything – what a mess, you can’t imagine! What an idiot!’

Lily made no reply. She found she was beginning to sweat with the anticipation of seeing Antony again after all this time,
unable to imagine what he might look like, broken and ridden with pain for such a long period of time. Their childhood now seemed a century ago. Simon sensed from her pale silence what she was going through and took her arm kindly as they drew up outside the hospital door. Trees and lawns surrounded the place and there was a happy riot of birdsong ringing in their ears as they went up the steps and through the swing doors.

Lily had never been in a hospital before. She huddled against Simon as he enquired for Antony from a nurse, and he felt her shaking against him. He was terrified she was going to pass out.

‘Steady on, Lily. It’s not so awful. Pull yourself together! He doesn’t want to see you all wobbly and daft. Show him the old Lily, for goodness sake – you’re here to cheer him up!’

She tried. She followed the nurse down the long white corridor, up some stairs, along another corridor, and into a side ward with half a dozen beds in it, filled with afternoon sunlight from a large window across the end. She looked at the men in the beds and saw nobody she knew.

‘Simon—!’

‘Look, dafty, the end bed.’ Simon’s voice was soft and kind.

‘No!’

She could not believe it was Antony, half sitting, half lying against high white pillows. The tumbled black hair was grey now at the sides, the bright face haggard, seamed with lines. He looked forty at least.

‘Antony!’ She could not help herself: she flung herself on
the bed and buried her face in the blankets over his chest.

He put his arms round her and hugged her. ‘Lily, my darling Lily! After all this time! Where’ve you been? I’ve wanted you so!’

She was weeping again, although she had vowed not to. Simon was laughing, and then Antony started to laugh, and so she choked, and turned her tears into laughter. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. He had never properly held her in his arms before – not that this time he had had any choice.

‘Oh, Antony, I still love you so!’

‘You’re mad, Lily! After all this time? I’m just old rubbish now.’

‘You were so stupid! So stupid!’

‘Yes. Truly stupid, I agree.’

She pushed herself up, embarrassed now, aware that there was an audience from the other beds and a few jokes being thrown.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’

‘Gosh, Lily, you’ve really grown up since I saw you last! I wouldn’t have known you if you hadn’t flung yourself at me. Grown up, but not changed. Don’t ever change, Lily! You’re the best bit of what happened before. I lie here and think about it, nothing else to do.’

‘It’s all change now though,’ Simon put in. ‘They’re knocking the old place down.’

‘Yeah, I hear it’s been sold.’

Lily was glad that the conversation had changed to
normality. Simon brought up two chairs and the two men started to talk while Lily just sat and stared at Antony, drinking him in. How changed he was! What had she expected? – she supposed the old laughing, teasing boy she remembered. She had no imagination, she knew. He laughed now at times, but winced with the pain of it. Was he ever going to get better? she asked him.

‘I am better,’ he said.

Three years … so slow!

‘I walk a bit. Learning to run, to escape Aunt Maud.’

‘Does she come?’

‘Oh, she comes all right – passes the time for her, planning my life for me. Holding a job open for me with her solicitor friend, looking out for a nice gel who can look after me, with prospects of marriage. She’ll buy a nice little house for me, just round the corner from her place so she can look in every day, make sure my wifey is looking after me properly – oh, the excitement! Making plans for the future, she says, gives me something to live for. You had nothing before, she tells me, idling around without ambition. Oh, what bliss it was, idling around – eh, Simon? We really enjoyed that. But of course, knowing what lies ahead for me now encourages me to get better, doesn’t it? I can’t wait. No more idling around. No more idling in bed. She said that to the sister and got her comeuppance there. It was really beautiful. Sister hates Aunt Maud as much as I do, which is quite saying something.’

‘Crikey, Ant, you can’t go along that road! My parents could help you better than Aunt Maud, you know that!’