Crimson (34 page)

“You didn’t always think that,” she said.

“I do now.” Adam leaned towards her.

Swiftly Miranda told herself that she couldn’t afford to get emotionally involved with Adam: he was too important to her business. Suppose they had an affair and then broke up perhaps he would want to leave the business. She couldn’t yet manage without Adam’s calm reassurance, ts authoritative decisions, his brushing aside of ami his strength of purpose. She could only just manage with him.

Miranda stood up. She wasn’t going to mess up her new career.

F-VRIDAY

25 DECEMBER 1964 y Christmas, Elinor and Buzz had settled down in Sara Th only major change in Elinor’s work routine had e that she now flew to London to do her research instead of travelling by train from Wiltshire. Buzz super three bilingual secretaries, who came daily from Nice to deal with correspondence, clean-type Elinor’s ma nuN A Aq scripts, send them to relevant experts for checking, then dispatch them to the dynamic American agent who had sold Elinor’s work around the world since Joe Grant’s death.

Early on Christmas morning, Elinor’s bedroom door burst open. As always, Elinor’s heart looped the loop as two-year-old Josh appeared in Donald Duck pyjamas. The k” child’s eager blue eyes reminded her so of Billy.

Frantic with excitement, Josh showed Elinor the contents of the knobbly red stocking that he dragged behind him.

Sitting up in bed, wearing a purple paper crown and pulling a cracker with Josh, Elinor felt happy and replete. She wanted nothing more from life: all the people she loved were gathered today under this ancient roof. Sam, Clare, and Josh had flown from California, Annabel and AW11 Scott from New York, Miranda and the Grant boys from on don

cry Later, wearing dressing gowns, ev one ate a champagne breakfast in the cream-tented pavilion by the swimming pool, which was used as an

outdoor dining room. Josh ate seven tangerines anId raced around the terraces on his new French tricycle a present from Father Christmas.

Sam gave Clare a gold neck chain; she gave him a primitive Greek painting of a fishing boat. Annabel gave Scott a set of Mark Cross luggage; he gave her a green leather Gucci jewel case. Miranda watched her two sisters hug their husbands and suddenly wished again that she hadn’t broken up with Angus. But it wouldn’t have worked.

Elinor murmured to Buzz, “It’s wonderful to see the girls together again, so loving, so loyal, so happy and secure!”

Buzz smiled.

“They’re making as much noise as ever they did. You’d think they was teenagers again.” Since the arrival of the sisters, their conversation, which consisted of half-sentences and puzzling allusions, had been constantly interrupted by giggles and shrieks of laughter.

“And the men seem to like each other.” Elinor nodded with satisfaction.

“Everything is going well!”

Standing beside Miranda at the buffet table, Adam whispered, “Annabel’s put on weight, hasn’t she?” “I always thought she was too thin,” Miranda said without conviction.

“Well, she isn’t now.”

Annabel, who was sitting with Clare by the pool, was aware of her weight problem. When her bookings started to slide, Mrs. Bates had crisply told her to lose twenty pounds and given her the telephone number of New York’s smartest slimming doctor. With great effort, Annabel had shed three pounds.

“I love your jewel box,” Clare said cheerfully.

1 chose it myself. If I hadn’t, Scott would have sent a secretary out to buy something for inc.” Surprised, Clare said, “Scott must be … very busy.”

“Nobody need be too busy to buy his wife a Christmas present. Scott isn’t interested in me any more.” be silly, “Annabel He’s here with you, isn’t he?” e laughed.

“After six years, you can’t expect the same attention that you had as a bride even though you’re supposed to be one of the world’s most beautiful o en.”

“I get no attention!”

“Rubbish. Men fall at your feet and you flirt with everyone in sight even Adam.”

“I mean that Scott ignores me not here, of course, in it-ont of you all. If I flirt, it’s only to reassure myself that other men still find me attractive.”

“Cool it,” Clare said curtly.

“Remember, it’s Christmas.” She didn’t want to think about marital flirtation. Sam had resumed his disguise of masculine invulnerability as soon as they returned to LA two summers ago, and Clare never again penetrated his armour or shared the loving warmth they had experienced when their minds, as well as their bodies, were joined on the darkened sands of Cannes.

Clare had started to suspect that Sam was a compulsive womanizer; she noticed the too-casual way certain women spoke to him at parties and the way his black eyes twinkled when they did so. She told herself that Sam’s affairs were probably not much more than one-night stands, and that adultery was almost unavoidable in his business, but such rationalization did not assuage her sadness.

Beyond the pool, Mike strolled to the terrace balustrade, against which Adam leaned to watch a speedboat skip across the blue water.

“Shall we take a boat out after lunch? Just you and me? Get away from Elinor’s family set piece?” Adam said cheerfully, “If you’ve got a message for me, Mike, tell me now. No need to go miles out to sea for privacy.” Mike hesitated.

“You’re in trouble if you can’t pay back your debts by the end of the year.” He paused again.

“You know what I mean by trouble. This time I can’t do anything! “You can make sure Miranda doesn’t hear about it,” Adam said crisply.

“And don’t worry. I’ll fix it. I always do, don’t IT “They all say that. Until the day they can’t fix it.”

“Ease up, Mike. Remember, we’re here to have fun. Okay, this afternoon we’ll sneak away on the speedboat, escape from Elinor’s brood.”

“Nothing wrong with the O’Dares,” Mike said, “except they pick god-awful men.” Adam nodded.

“I don’t mind Sam, but Scott is unbelievably vapid only interested in his job.” Scott seemed incapable even of playing Monopoly without being interrupted by calls from his New York office.

Mike said, “I prefer Scott to Mr. High-Powered Hollywood. Can’t think what Clare sees in him.”

“Maybe the father she never had. She fell for his air of assurance,” Adam said.

Standing together at the far side of the pool, Scott and Sam, both in bathing shorts, watched the Grant brothers.

Scott said, “I can’t think what these women see in that insufferable couple of snobs. And they both talk like faggots.”

“Nah, they’re just British,” Sam said.

“Stand up when a woman walks in, leap around to pull chairs out they all behave like footmen in a costume picture. I don’t mind Mike, but Adam’s a royal pain, and he behaves as if he owns everything in sight! Later, as they dressed for lunch in their bedroom, Sam looked at the maroon Cartier travelling clock that Adam had given Clare for Christmas and said, “Why’s he so generous to you?” Clare laughed.

“Surely you’re not jealous of Adam? Can you hook my back up, plea seT course I’m not jealous of that pompous legal asshole. Ican’t think why Elinor invited him for Christmas.”

“Because Adam is almost family, and his parents are both dead. And Gran would be lost without Adam she’s got into the habit of relying on him.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“Some lawyers can be a very expensive habit.” ” In the late afternoon, after a traditional English Christmas “Ainner had been served in the dining room, Elinor listened happily to the shrieks of laughter around the table. She gazed with satisfaction across the oak refectory table to Buzz, with whom she had shared so many Christmases; what a pity it was that Joe couldn’t see his sons, so handsome in their light suits and Christmas-gift ties. How wonderful it was to see them and her girls together again still happy, still friends after all these years, and all reunited under one roof.

She was pleased that the girls had bothered to dress up, although their clothes were a little startling. Miranda wore a cream lace trouser suit over a nude body stocking; Annabel wore a white mini dress and a bonnet of daisies tied with satin ribbons beneath her chin; Clare wore a sleeveless Jumpsuit of scarlet linen edged with mustard. Buzz wore a Pucci blouse-and-pants outfit in turquoise silk, which is what she had worn every Christmas Day for the past seven years, after inheriting it from Elinor, for whom the outfit had been a little too tight.

How lucky she was, Elinor thought, gazing around at all the beloved faces. Her heart felt settled when they were all together, in a way that it had not done since her last granddaughter left home. She decided to make a little speech and tapped the table. Slowly the happy chatter subsided.

Elinor lifted her glass of champagne, but found herself unable to speak as happiness welled up from her heart. She smiled and said, “To our happy family.” Her words were echoed around the table as everyone raised a glass.

MONDAY, 19 JULY 1965

From her office window, in the west corner of the chiteau, Buzz could see what was happening anywhere on the two main terraces. Now, she stared out only at empty space shadowed by the late afternoon sun. Soon, thank God, things would return to normal. Elinor would be sitting out there again, and they’d be having their usual glass of champagne before lunch. The days of anxiety and concern were almost over; Elinor’s recovery would, of course, be slow, but that didn’t matter. Buzz had warned Clare that there were to be no more arguments, and now all Elinor had to do was get well.

Buzz’s office was briskly efficient; she did not care to spend one second more than necessary in it, and nothing was superfluous in the sparsely furnished room. It held filing cabinets, bookshelves, and a desk upon which an unused IBM typewriter crouched like a grey electronic cat. Behind the desk stood a sturdy swivel chair. In front of it were two nineteenth-century metal conservatory chairs for visitors; they were not very comfortable: Buzz didn’t like people to stay too long.

Buzz looked at her watch. If Adam didn’t arrive soon, he’d be late for the telephone calls he had booked. She opened the door and gazed down a splendid vista of reception rooms that opened out one into the next, which Buzz had learned was typical of grand French houses. Adam appeared in the distance; he hurried through the bar, the summer salon, and the television room before he finally reached the privacy of Buzz’s

office, which contained the only telephone that did not have extensions all over the chiteau. Buzz left the room.

An aggressive French operator informed Adam that his first call had been delayed; as he waited impatiently, he glanced at the bookcases, which held first editions of all Elinor’s books. Adam swiftly read the titles, most of which contained romantic words like ‘love’, “heart’, “arrow’, “passionate’, “fire’, “dream’, “kiss’, and ‘enchanted’. Dream Of the Heart, Passionate Fire, and Fire of the Heart in particular caught his eye.

Unlike many men, Adam did not regard Elinor’s books as a subject for jokes. He remembered a conversation he’d once had with his brother, who had teased him about his interest in the works of Elinor Dove. With an earnestness that had surprised Mike, Adam had responded forcefully.

“You’re wrong, Mike. Leave it to the intellectuals to deride romance novels. Men like you and I can learn from them. They are our guidebooks to what women want. Often a woman reads them because they supply what’s lacking in her relationship; she doesn’t yearn just for sex, or even for love she also needs romance. And so does a man, or at least he does when he first falls in love, when he’s too caught up to pay any attention to what other fellows think. Then gradually, when reality starts to intrude again, he gets embarrassed about the sensitivity he’s shown, and so he gradually pushes it away, to deny it’s even part of his nature. It’s a trap we all fall into, something I don’t see changing soon. And until it does, Mike, until men and women are equal partners in romance, men who understand how women particularly married women feel about romance will always be able to twist them around their little fingers.”

Adam could truthfully tell Elinor that he read every word she wrote and found her books absorbing. This was because he used them as guidebooks. He coldly worked coldly gave Mt. what each of his women wanted, and then to her. And it worked. Given this level of knowledge, shnost any man could become successful at seduction.

Adam answered the telephone on the first ring.

“Mike? Great to hear from you. How’s the new bike? … How do I know? Because you always have a new bike.

In London, Mike laughed.

“Ifs a rather nifty Ducati. Three fifty with single overhead cam. Handles very well, but a bit unreliable. I’ve had trouble twice and she’s only three weeks old! His voice became serious.

“How’s Elinor?”

“Much better. No more talk about scattering her ashes over the Mediterranean by moonlight. She’ll soon be well enough to make her will.”

“Does that matter now?” “Not now, but it will someday, and I’m not risking this scene again.”

“I’m so glad she’s better,” Mike said.

“Dlyou remember how great she was to us when we were kids? She lent me the money to get my second bike that Triumph Speed Twin: it had a lot of poke for the size. When I went to repay Elinor, she wouldn’t accept the money.”

“Is that why you wanted to speak to me urgently? To discuss Elinor’s health?” “Unfortunately not,” Mike said.

“I called to tell you that you have to pay Toby Stitch, and fast.”

After a pause, Adam said, “I’ll talk to Giles.”

“He can’t lend you money. As of last Wednesday, Giles Milroy-Browne is doing seven years in an open prison, for embezzlement.”

“Toby’s waited longer than this before.”

“Exactly. He’s running short of patience. I can’t fix it, Adam. Remember, Toby has already paid your French gambling debts.” Mike wished to God that when Adam went to the south of France, he would stay on the beach like everyone else.

It don’t know what I’d do without you; Mike,” Adam said winningly.

“Just keep Toby off my back for a few more days. Let him think that Elinor may go at any minute. imply that I might soon have funds.”