The Sea, The Sea Part 21

'Oh yesWell, have a drink, James? Before you go.'

'Thanks, anything. That white wine that's open.'

'We drink it with blackcurrant,' said t.i.tus.

'Are you his maternal cousin or his paternal cousin?' asked Gilbert, who liked to get such things straight.

'Our fathers were brothers.'

'Charles always pretends to have no family. He's so secretive.'

Gilbert, affably rolling his eyes, poured out four gla.s.ses of wine. He seemed to have lost some weight climbing about on the rocks in his new plimsolls. He looked younger and more relaxed. t.i.tus added the dash of blackcurrant. He was smiling. It was clear that both of them were glad of this diversion, glad to have another person, an untainted outsider, present to talk to, to dilute the atmosphere; glad too perhaps to have an extra fighting man.

'Yes, you've got a very odd and interesting house,' said James.

'You don't feel any bad vibrations?'

James looked at me. 'Who owned it before?'

'A Mrs Chorney. I don't know anything about her.'

'Can you see the sea from the upper windows?'

'Yes, but the view's better from the rocks. I'll show you if you can spare a minute. What sort of shoes have you got on? It's a great place for breaking your ankle.'

I wanted to get James out of the house. I hustled him quickly out onto the gra.s.s and he followed me a short way over the rocks until we could sit on a warm summit with the sea view. The sea had now changed colour and was a slightly greyish glittering pale azure, crepitating with little movements.

'How stuffy it is. James, I hope you don't mind going to that hotel, it's called the Raven Hotel, and it's got a lovely outlook over that bay you liked. And you could drive down the coast and look at those seagulls and things. The fact is, I can't have you because there isn't another bed. We're full up. As it is, t.i.tus is sleeping on the floor.'

'I quite understand the situation.'

You don't, old c.o.c.k, thank G.o.d, I thought. And I thought, in a minute I'll take him back to his car. I looked at my cousin, now vividly revealed in the bright dark light which delineated everything with a fearful clarity. James had carried his gla.s.s of wine with him over the rocks and was sipping it with a maddening air of contented repose, looking out over the sea. He was wearing lightweight black trousers with an open-necked mauve s.h.i.+rt and a white summer jacket. He was a careless dresser but could be foppish in his own way. His hawk-nosed face was dark with the irrepressible beard and with the curious cloud, perhaps the effect of his obscure brown eyes, which always seemed to hang over it. His brown hair was jaggedly untidy.

I suddenly thought, if he's no longer in the army, why does he have to come and see me at a holiday weekend when the roads are full of traffic?

'Are you doing anything?' I said. 'I mean, have you got another job or anything?'

'No, gentleman of leisure.'

That was odd. It then came to me in a flash that of course James had not really left the army at all. He had gone underground. He was preparing for some top-secret mission, perhaps involving a return to Tibet. Why had he seemed so annoyed that I had seen that strange oriental figure in his rooms? My cousin had become a secret agent!

I was trying to think of some subtle tactful way of letting him know that I had guessed when he spoke again.

'And what has happened about Mary Hartley Smith?'

'Mary Hartley Smith?'

'Yes. Your first love. You told me she was living here with her husband. That boy is her son. I asked you his name. t.i.tus.

Have you forgotten that too?'

The strange thing was that I had forgotten, I had completely forgotten telling James that story. Why had James wanted to know t.i.tus's name? 'I must be mad/ I said, 'I had forgotten, but I remember now. You gave me some good advice.'

'Did you take it?'

'Yes. You were right of course. I was just imagining things. The shock of seeing her set off a lot of old memories. I've recovered now and of course I'm not in love with her, it wouldn't make sense. Anyway she's just a boring old hag now. The boy drops in occasionally. He's a bit of a bore too.'

'I see. So all's well that ends well.'

'Have you got a tie?'

'A tie? Yes.'

'You'll need one to get into the dining room at the Raven Hotel. I'll just see you to your car.'

I escorted him round by the side of the house so as to avoid further conversation, in the kitchen.

'Nice car. New one?'

'Yes, it goes well. Where can I turn?'

'Just beyond that rock. How dark it is. You almost need headlights.'

'Yes, it's a funny day. Looks like a storm. Well, thanks for the drink, look after yourself.' He handed me his empty wine gla.s.s.

'Goodbye, drive carefully.'

The black Bentley moved, swung round, then shot off down the road. James waved, vanished round the corner. Would he come back? I did not think so.

I walked slowly across the causeway and into the house and shut the door. How odd that I had forgotten telling him those things. I must have been drunk. Well, tomorrow was destiny day. I was going to act tomorrow. I thought, I will take Hartley to London. This place is bedevilled somehow. I stood in the hall for a while. I wanted to be by myself. I put Tamest wine gla.s.s down on the stairs. I could hear the low conspiratorial voices of Gilbert and t.i.tus who were talking in the kitchen. Tomorrow I would speak to t.i.tus. t.i.tus and Hartley and I would be alone together, in another place. My act, my will would create a new family.

I heard a faint straining sc.r.a.ping sound. I looked up and saw the wire from the front door bell quivering. Then I heard the resonant incoherent clamour. Ben? I turned round quickly and flung the door open.

Peregrine Arbelow was standing outside holding a suitcase.

'h.e.l.lo, Charles, what a funny place.'

' Perry!' Perry!'

'I wish wish you'd call me 'Peregrine'. How many times have I said that to you? A thousand?' you'd call me 'Peregrine'. How many times have I said that to you? A thousand?'

'What on earth are you doing here?'

'What on earth am I doing here, he says. You issued an invitation, I accepted it. It's Whit weekend, remember? I have had a very long and tiring drive. I have been looking forward to open arms and cries of joy for the last hundred miles.'

I could now see Peregrine's white Alfa Romeo parked where James's Bentley had lately stood.

'Peregrine, I'm terribly sorry, you can't stay here, there aren't any beds and'

'Look, may I just push my way in?' He did so.

Peregrine's loud voice had alerted the conspirators in the kitchen.

'Peregrine!'

'Gilbert! What a pleasant surprise. Charles, I can have Gilbert's bed.'

'You b.l.o.o.d.y won't, I shall defend my sofa.'

'Introduce your charming boy friend, Gilbert.'

'This is t.i.tus Fitch. Not my property alas.'

'h.e.l.lo, t.i.tus. I am Peregrine Arbelow. Gilbert, get me a drink, will you, there's a good fellow.'

'OK, but there's nothing but wine and sherry here, you know. Charles doesn't drink spirits.'

'Oh, f.u.c.k, I'd forgotten, I should have brought a bottle.'

'Peregrine,' I said, *you won't be happy here. There's nothing for you to drink and nowhere for you to sleep. I'm sorry I forgot the date and I don't actually think I invited you at all. There's an excellent hotel just down the road-'

At that moment the front doorbell ran again. Peregrine turned to open the door and over his shoulder I could see my cousin James.

'h.e.l.lo,' said Peregrine, 'welcome to Hospitality Hall, proprietor Charles Arrowby, there's nothing to drink and nowhere to sleep but '

'h.e.l.lo,' said James. 'I'm sorry to come back, Charles, but the Raven Hotel is full up, and I wondered '

'I imagine that's the place where he wanted to park me,' said Peregrine.

'Let's go into the kitchen,' said Gilbert.

Gilbert went first, then t.i.tus, then Perry, then James. I stood for a moment, then picked up the winegla.s.s from the stairs and followed.

'I am Peregrine Arbelow.'

'I think I've heard of you,' said James.

'Oh goodie' goodie'

'This is my cousin. General Arrowby,' I said.

'You never said he was a general,' said Gilbert.

'I never knew you had a cousin,' said Peregrine. 'h.e.l.lo, sir.'

I took James by the sleeve of his immaculate white coat and pulled him back into the hall. 'Look, you can't stay here, I suggest you '

At that moment I saw James's eyes widen, looking behind me, and I realized that Hartley was standing on the stairs.

At our sudden silence the other three emerged. We all stood there looking up at Hartley. She was still wearing my black silk dressing gown with the red rosettes. It reached to her feet and with the collar turned up to frame her hair it had something of the effect of an evening dress. Her eyes, startled and large, had their violet tint; and although, with her disordered grey hair she looked old and mad, she seemed in that arrested moment like a queen.

I recovered in a second or two and made for the stairs. As she saw me move Hartley turned and fled. I saw the flash of a bare ankle, a bare foot. I caught her at the curve of the stairs and hurried her towards the upper landing.

We almost ran together along the landing and I pushed her in through the door of her room. She went at once and sat down on the mattress, like an obedient dog. I do not think that in the whole period of her incarceration I ever saw her sit upon the chair.

'Hartley, darling, where were you going? Were you coming down to look for me? Or did you think that Ben had come? Or were you going to run away?'

She pulled the dressing gown closer about her and simply shook her head several times. She was breathless with agitation. Then she peered up at me with a sad timid sweet look which suddenly reminded me of my father.

'Oh, Hartley, I love you so much!' I sat down on the chair and lifted my hands to my face. I grimaced into my hands. I felt so helplessly, vulnerably close to my childhood. 'Hartley, don't leave me. I don't know what I'd do if you went away.'

Hartley said, 'Who was that man?'

'What man?'

'The man you were with when I was on the stairs?'

'My cousin James.'

'Oh yesAunt Estelle's son.'

This unexpected exhibition of memory made me sick with shock.

Down below in the kitchen I could hear a lively murmur of voices. Gilbert and t.i.tus, feeling released by Hartley's apparition from any necessity to be discreet, were doubtless telling all they knew and more to James and Peregrine.

I groaned into my hands.

That night we slept as follows: I slept in my bedroom. Hartley slept in the middle room, Gilbert slept on his sofa. Peregrine slept on the cus.h.i.+ons in the bookroom, James slept on a couple of chairs in the little red room, and t.i.tus slept out on the lawn. It was a very hot night but there was no storm.

The next morning there was a holiday atmosphere among my guests. t.i.tus swam from the cliff as usual. James, after exploring the tower and uttering various historical conjectures about it, swam from the tower steps. (I had still forgotten to fix a rope, but it was high tide.) Peregrine, a great white blob, lay halfnaked sunbathing upon the gra.s.s and got thoroughly burnt. Gilbert drove into the village and came back with a ma.s.s of foodstuffs and several bottles of whisky which he put down to my account at the shop. Later James drove to the village to get The Times The Times and failed. There was general amazement at my ability to live without 'news'. 'Who's dead, who's hijacked, who's on strike,' as Perry summed it up. He had brought a transistor set with him, but I told him to keep it out of my way. James pioneered a popular plan to go to the Raven Hotel to watch the Test Match on television, only Gilbert, again despatched to shop, this time for sunburn lotion for Peregrine, reported that electrical disturbances had put the local TV out of order. Gilbert and t.i.tus, hoping to find recruits for their choir, succeeded with Perry who sang a gruff and s.h.a.ggy ba.s.s, but failed with James, who could not sing a note. I had managed on the previous evening to warn t.i.tus and Gilbert not to tell Peregrine about Rosina's visit. This was just as well, since in the morning I was almost incapable of rational thought. I felt as if something had snapped inside my head, a brain tumour had burst or something. and failed. There was general amazement at my ability to live without 'news'. 'Who's dead, who's hijacked, who's on strike,' as Perry summed it up. He had brought a transistor set with him, but I told him to keep it out of my way. James pioneered a popular plan to go to the Raven Hotel to watch the Test Match on television, only Gilbert, again despatched to shop, this time for sunburn lotion for Peregrine, reported that electrical disturbances had put the local TV out of order. Gilbert and t.i.tus, hoping to find recruits for their choir, succeeded with Perry who sang a gruff and s.h.a.ggy ba.s.s, but failed with James, who could not sing a note. I had managed on the previous evening to warn t.i.tus and Gilbert not to tell Peregrine about Rosina's visit. This was just as well, since in the morning I was almost incapable of rational thought. I felt as if something had snapped inside my head, a brain tumour had burst or something.

My desperate state was caused partly by the presence of James, who seemed to be a centre of magnetic attraction to the other three. Each of them separately told me how much he liked James. No doubt they expected to please me by this information. t.i.tus said, 'It's funny, I feel as if I'd met him before, and yet I know I haven't. Perhaps I saw him in a dream.' The other thing which drove me half mad was a sudden change in Hartley's tone. She had been saying that she must go home, but she had lately said it almost listlessly as if she knew it was becoming impossible. Now she began to say it as if she meant it, and to back it up with almost-rational arguments.

'I know that you think you're being kind tome'

'Kind! I love you.'

'I know you think it's for the best and I'm grateful'

'Grateful! Oh good!'

'But it's all a nonsense, an accident, an incidentwe can't stay together, it doesn't make sense.'

'I love you. You love me.'

'I do care for you'

'Don't use that whimsy language. You love me.'