No Angel (Spoils of Time 01) (65 page)

‘She’s not speaking to me.’

‘I see.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve caused you a lot of unhappiness haven’t I? I’m so sorry.’

Celia looked at him; then she stood up and walked over to him. ‘You have given me more happiness, as well, than I would have believed possible,’ she said. ‘Whatever happens, that is terribly important.’ She bent down and kissed him. ‘I love you Sebastian. I love you so much. And when I’m with you, I know that what I’m doing is right. I know it. I will – I will ask my mother. It’s a good idea.’

Barty was longing for Giles to come home. There was something wrong, and she couldn’t work out quite what it was. Nothing had actually changed; Wol spent a lot of time on his own, Aunt Celia was often working late, but that had always been the case. They seemed fairly normal: they weren’t even arguing as much as they used to do. Aunt Celia was in a bad temper a lot of the time, snapping at Nanny and very cross with the twins, who had had dreadful reports from school: but even that wasn’t really unusual. And she wasn’t sleeping at all, Barty often heard her moving about the house in the middle of the night; but then she always had been a night creature. She certainly looked awfully tired and not very well; Barty had even asked her once or twice if she felt all right and she had said yes, she was absolutely fine, just very tired. Well that would be the not sleeping.

But somehow the house didn’t feel happy; before, even when Aunt Celia had been really bad-tempered and having noisy rows with Wol, and furious with the twins, everything had been sort of firm underneath. Firm and cheerful. Suddenly, it felt rocky. And miserable.

Jack was moving out, which might have something to do with it; Barty had actually cried when he told her. She loved Jack, he was so funny and such fun, and played Monopoly with her and other games too, sometimes cards and draughts, except she nearly always won those, so they stuck to Monopoly. He seemed rather miserable too. When she asked him why he was going, he said he was too old to live in his big brother’s house any more, and he needed to be independent. And that he had a girlfriend, who thought the same. He said he had a very nice flat and Barty could come and see it if she liked; she said she would, but he hadn’t asked her yet. Mostly because he seemed so miserable. And he and Aunt Celia didn’t seem to be getting on at all; before they’d always been chatting and joking and had gone out a lot together, leaving Wol behind, and nobody had minded. Now Jack went out, presumably with the girlfriend, and hardly talked to Aunt Celia at all. Maybe they’d quarrelled; of course she couldn’t ask.

‘You’re all to go down to Ashingham for a few days,’ said Nanny, ‘I’ll pack your things, but if there’s anything you particularly want, be sure to put it out on your beds for washing.’

‘Ashingham! When?’ said Adele.

‘Soon as you break up. Next week, I suppose.’

‘Is Giles coming?’ asked Venetia.

‘I wouldn’t know. I suppose so. I haven’t been told much.’

‘But—’

‘But what, Barty?’

‘The next week is the concert.’ She had been chosen to play a piano solo; she was as excited as she was nervous.

‘Well – I wouldn’t know about that either. You’d better ask Lady Celia.’

Barty went down to breakfast, feeling upset. Celia and Wol were reading the papers.

‘Aunt Celia?’

‘Yes, Barty?’

‘Nanny says we’re to go to Ashingham.’

‘Yes, that’s right. You are. Next week. Just for a week or two. It will do you all good, some country air.’

‘But Aunt Celia, it’s the week of the concert. I’m playing in it—’

‘Oh, dear. I’d forgotten, Barty, I’m so sorry. I’m afraid you’ll just have to miss it.’

‘Miss it! But – but I can’t, I’m playing a solo.’

‘Barty, I can’t ask my mother to change all her plans, and change all of mine, because of a concert.’

‘Mummy, that’s so unfair.’ Adele’s dark eyes, so exactly like her mother’s, were brilliant. ‘Barty’s been practising and practising. You should have remembered. Anyway, we don’t want to go either, we’ve got a party, and we want to hear Barty play and—’

‘Adele, be quiet. Until you and Venetia begin to do better at school, there aren’t going to be any more parties, I can assure you of that. Now eat your breakfast, all of you. And be quiet.’

‘Celia, I really don’t think Barty should have to miss a concert.’ Oliver’s voice was unusually firm. He never argued with her about the children in front of them. Four pairs of eyes fixed on him. The children almost audibily drew in their breath.

Celia stared at him; then she said, ‘Oliver, I’m sorry, but I would prefer that you didn’t confuse matters. This is all arranged.’

‘Then it must be unarranged. Barty can stay here.’

‘Of course she can’t. Nanny will be at Ashingham.’

‘And where will you be?’

There was an absolute silence; then Celia said ‘I – I will be here. Obviously. But extremely busy. That is precisely why I want the children to be in the country.’

Another silence. Then, ‘And where will Giles be?’

‘At Ashingham. Yes. Once he breaks up.’

‘Does he know this?’

‘Not yet. Oliver, can we please leave this until later?’

‘No. I don’t think we should. Barty is very upset and I can understand why. Whatever the twins may or may not do, I think she should stay here. However busy you are. I will be here; Barty and I can look after one another. And I can attend her concert, if you cannot.’

‘That’s not fair!’ said the twins, in unison, ‘we want to go.’

‘Well, maybe that is too difficult to arrange. When is it Barty?’

‘Next Wednesday,’ said Barty.

‘Fine. I shall put it in my diary.’

‘Oliver—’

‘Run along now, all of you. Daniels will be waiting.’

As the door closed, and as she pulled on her coat and school beret, Barty heard Oliver say, ‘I have no idea what you are planning, Celia nor do I wish to know. But Barty should not have to miss her concert.’

There was a long silence; then the door opened and Celia appeared, slamming it after her and started upstairs.

‘Temper, temper!’ said Adele under her breath. Not quite enough under her breath. Celia turned and ran downstairs again, raised her hand and struck Adele across the face. Quite hard.

‘It’s time you learned some respect,’ she said.

And then went into the morning room and closed the door, very quietly this time and there was no more sound in the house at all.

Barty sat in the car, trying not to cry, with her arm round Adele who was crying very loudly indeed.

Everything was awful. Absolutely awful. And something was terribly wrong.

‘I can’t go on like this,’ said Celia. She was crying; she had taken a taxi up to Sebastian’s house at lunchtime, careless of the risk. In any case, what risk? Everyone knew, except for Oliver and he refused to know.

Sebastian took out his handkerchief, wiped her tears away. ‘Come on. Tell me about it.’

‘I’m just being so dreadful to everyone. Everyone. Turning into a bad person. Well, I am a bad person.’

‘Nonsense. I don’t like bad people.’

‘Don’t joke. It isn’t funny.’

‘Sorry. What have you done?’

‘First I told Barty she couldn’t play in a concert.’

‘Doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘It’s very bad. She’s playing a solo and I’d forgotten. And then I said it didn’t matter. Sebastian, I would never have done that once. Never. Of course it matters.’

‘Well why can’t she play in it?’

‘Because I’ve arranged for them all to go to stay with my mother. As I told you.’

‘Oh yes. The courageous phone call.’

‘It was very courageous. Anyway, she’s agreed, that’s the point and it’s all arranged, and it means I can – well anyway . . . And then Oliver said she must play in the concert, and she could stay, which made me so angry, how dare he interfere?’

‘And?’ Sebastian’s face was a polite blank.

‘And then I lost my temper and Adele said something cheeky and I hit her.’

‘From what I can gather a few spankings would do those two good.’

‘It wasn’t a spanking. It was a hard slap across the face. In front of the servants and Barty and – it was dreadful. I shall have to apologise.’

‘Well, she’ll enjoy that. It’ll more than make up for any suffering, I’d have thought.’

‘Sebastian, it’s serious.’ She took a cigarette out of the silver box on his table, lit it, inhaled, and started to cough.

‘You should stop that,’ he said severely.

‘I will. When I – when I feel better.’

‘When you’re living with me, you certainly will. Now then, listen to me. I do feel sorry. For all of you. But it’s simply because you’re under such strain, Celia. When this is over, when things are in order again—’

‘But will they be? Will that be order?’

‘Yes, it will. It’s absolutely right, and you know it is.’

‘I don’t,’ said Celia, ‘I don’t know anything of the sort.’

‘Well I do. And if you really don’t, then I shall have to know it for both of us. Now come along, let me give you a big hug. It’s all going to be all right. When is this concert, incidentally?’

‘Next Wednesday. Oliver is going to go. He was terribly angry with me, when he got to the office. Terribly. I said I would like to go too, and he said he would prefer that I didn’t.’

‘Well in that case,’ said Sebastian, ‘perhaps that is the ideal day for your departure.’

‘Oh no, Sebastian. No, I couldn’t possibly do that.’

‘I think there are definitely grounds for taking out an injunction against publishing this book,’ said Howard Shaw. ‘The coincidences could be thought to be too many and too strong. And therefore the material about the affair could very well be argued to be defamatory.’

Jasper Lothian nodded.

‘Of course – you must be prepared for some publicity. If they are determined to publish, and I suspect they are, then we must be very sure of our ground. Is that quite clear?’

There was a fragment of hesitation; then Jasper Lothian said, ‘Yes. Quite clear. I shall, of course, be seen as standing up for my own good name.’

Howard Shaw looked at Lothian; he wasn’t sure that he liked him. He was pompous, he lacked any kind of humour and he was clearly preposterously vain. He dressed rather like an ageing Rupert Brooke, in loose jackets, soft shirts, floppy bow ties; his hair which was silver, fell almost to his shoulders, in what were obviously carefully encouraged waves. Of course academia was full of such eccentricity: more than ever in this rather excessive age. Well, it didn’t matter in the least whether he liked him or not; this was an exciting case for him to work on.

‘You may have to produce witnesses who can testify as to your moral probity,’ he said.

‘That can be arranged. Of course.’

‘Good. Then I shall write to the publishers.’

‘Saying?’

‘Saying, in the first instance, that we want the offending passages removed. That is an option they must be offered.’

‘Well – that would be the ideal obviously,’ said Jasper Lothian. ‘Do you think they would agree to that?’

‘I would rather doubt it. They are central to the story. But it might be possible. It could be better for them than having to withdraw totally. I would imagine a considerable investment has gone into this book.’

‘I see. Well – we shall no doubt see.’

‘Indeed we shall.’

‘Oliver, I shall be late into the office in the morning.’

‘Not unusual.’

‘No. No, I have to go and see Lady Annabel about her book. Foyles want her to do some readings and then—’

‘Yes, yes. I daresay Lyttons will continue to run without you for a few more hours. As you know I am going to Barty’s concert in the afternoon. I have suggested that Daniels brings her to the office; then we can go there together.’

‘I would still like to come—’

‘And I would prefer that you didn’t. If you don’t mind. This is our treat, mine and Barty’s. I have promised to take her out to tea afterwards, to the Soda Fountain in Fortnums.’

‘But Oliver—’

‘We don’t spend much time together these days. I am looking forward to it.’

‘Very well.’

She made one last desperate effort.