The Rich Are Different (110 page)

Geoffrey was loading the boat but he paused to kiss me when I arrived breathlessly at the jetty. Neither of us spoke. For a moment I thought of the Dunkirk beaches which lay waiting for us but before I could feel frightened my thoughts turned back to Cornelius. I saw then that my earlier passiveness
towards him had mirrored England’s pacifism, that his mounting aggression had echoed Hitler’s goose-step, that my determination to stand against him was a bizarre reflection of post-Munich England. It was unfortunate that the parallels now had to cease. With the British army in retreat I found it difficult to picture England beating Hitler, but I could already see my victory over Cornelius Van Zale.

The moment came half an hour later when we had finished loading and were ready to leave. Pretending I had forgotten something I left Geoffrey by the boat and entered the house for the last time.

The silence, deep, intense and moving, enveloped me. I started to cry but dashed the tears away. This was triumph not tragedy. This was my finest hour.

I hesitated only once more and that was when I reached the top of the stairs and looked back at the medieval hall. I felt as if I were looking back into the past, towards Steve and beyond him to Paul, and I thought how odd it was that an obscure manor house in the remotest part of Norfolk should have played such a large part in their wealthy, sophisticated, cosmopolitan lives. A second later I saw I was misinterpreting the past. It wasn’t the house which had played the leading role. I had automatically assumed it was because I had always identified Mallingham with myself; I had been too young, as Paul had once said, to cut the umbilical cord which had tied me to Mallingham, and for years I had been too insecure to see my own identity. But I was insecure no longer. The journey to maturity which had begun when Geoffrey had wheeled the hamper into Paul’s office had ended at last, and now Geoffrey was with me again as I set out into a new life and a different world.

It was time to sever the umbilical cord.

The rafters of the hall soared above me. I stared, feasting on the sight for the last time as my heart blazed with the most passionate love, and then I walked with pride into the room where I had outwitted Cornelius Van Zale, and calmly turned the knob on Alan’s little wireless.