The Silent Pool (9 page)

Stella talked about the party all the way home from the Vicarage.

‘I can wear my new dress that Star got me just before she went away, it’s a sort of yellow. I like it because it hasn’t got frills. I hate frills. Miss Page has got a dress with frills – she’s going to wear it this evening. It makes her look all fluffy like a doll on a Christmas tree, only black. She put it on, and Mrs Lenton pinned up the hem, and she said, “Oh, Ellie, you look like a picture!” I think that was a silly thing to say – don’t you? Because there are all sorts of pictures, and some of them are ever so ugly.’

Janet laughed.

‘Mrs Lenton meant that Miss Page looked nice.’

Stella made a face.

‘I don’t like black dresses. I won’t wear one ever. I’ve told Star I won’t. I don’t know why Miss Page has one.’

‘Fair people look nice in black.’

‘Miss Page doesn’t. It makes her look like that pink dress I had which the colour all washed out of and Nanny said it would have been better if Star had tried a bit of the stuff first and washed it. Joan Cuttle says Miss Page has gone off something dreadfully.’

‘Stella, it isn’t very nice to repeat things about people.’

‘No – Star says so too. But Miss Page used to be much prettier and nicer than she is now. Jenny Lenton says she cries in the night. She told Mrs Lenton, and she put her and Molly into another room. They used to sleep with Miss Page, but they don’t any more because it kept them awake. Isn’t it nice it’s such a fine warm day? Jenny said you wouldn’t know it wasn’t summer, but I told her that’s silly because of the flowers. You don’t have dahlias and michaelmas daisies in the summer, do you?’

By dint of encouraging these horticultural speculations it was possible to get home without any more embarrassing confidences on the subject of Ellie Page.

It was indeed one of those early autumn days which are sometimes hotter than anything conceded by July. Edna Ford, under the necessity of having something to worry about, now concentrated upon the unseasonable temperature.

‘Adriana never makes proper lists of who has accepted and who has refused, but I believe she has asked about two hundred people, and if even half of them come the drawing-room will be unbearably hot, because she won’t have the windows open – at least I suppose she won’t. She always says she had enough draughts when she was on the stage and she means to be comfortable now. Only once the curtains are drawn, perhaps she wouldn’t notice if a window was opened behind them. I could ask Geoffrey to see about it. But of course if she did notice, it might make her very angry. You see, as soon as the lights are on inside, the curtains will have to be drawn. There is nothing she dislikes so much as being in a lighted room with the curtains open. It’s quite a thing with her. So really I think I shall have to speak to Geoffrey and see what he can do.’

By a little after six the drawing-room was beginning to fill. The day was still warm, but it was clouding. Adriana stood to receive her guests, her head high, her pose gracious. Behind her the fine old fireplace was banked with flowers, and an antique carved chair stood ready to support her when she should feel in need of rest. She wore a grey dress of great elegance, with a diamond flower on her shoulder and three rows of exquisite pearls. As the light faded and the great chandeliers were turned on, her hair caught the glow and reflected it. The colour was certainly a work of art, as was the flawless tinting of her skin.

Poor Mabel Preston came off a very bad second. Since her last visit she had reduced her straw-coloured locks to a messy imitation of Adriana’s deep copper-beech red, and she had been unwisely lavish with powder, rouge and lipstick. The black and yellow dress was a disaster. Ninian, penetrating the crowd and arriving by dint of perseverance at Janet’s side, gave one glance at her and murmured,

‘Queen wasp! They should all be destroyed quite early in the year.’

‘Ninian, she is pathetic.’

He laughed.

‘She is enjoying herself like mad. You look very handsome, my sweet.’

‘Star didn’t think so. She said I was like a brown mouse in this dress.’

‘I like brown mice. Nice companionable little things.’

Janet ignored this.

‘It’s useful, because no one remembers it,’ she said.

He was looking across the crowd.

‘Hullo, Esmé Trent is very smart! I wonder whether Adriana asked her, or whether she gate-crashed.’

‘Why should she?’

‘Up-and-coming sort of girl – she might think it a joke.’

‘I mean, why shouldn’t Adriana ask her?’

He cocked an eyebrow.

‘Dear Geoffrey might be led astray. Or dear Edna might have issued an ultimatum. Some day, you know, she’ll go right off the deep end, and Adriana will be bored stiff. Geoffrey amuses her, but she expects him to keep within bounds. What are the odds he slips into the garden with Esmé as soon as it’s dark enough to be safe?’

It was later on, when Simmons had drawn the long grey velvet curtains and the dusk was deepening outside, that Janet was making her way back to the table at the end of the room with a tray in her hand. The cheese straws and small savouries she had been offering had run low, and she was coming back to renew the supply. The easiest way to get along was by the wall on the window side. The three recesses afforded elbow-room, and at any rate you could only be bumped from one direction.

But just by the last of the windows she became hemmed in and could get no farther. A solid block of people was pressed against the table beyond her, all talking at the top of their voices and forming an impenetrable barrier. She was forced up against the curtain, the thick velvet touching her cheek, and beyond it from the window recess voices came to her.

By some trick of acoustics these voices did not merge with the babel in the room. They were detached and clear. Ellie Page said, ‘Oh, Geoffrey darling!’ and Geoffrey Ford said, ‘My dear girl, do take care!’

Janet went hot and cold. She couldn’t move away. She couldn’t even put her fingers in her ears because of the tray she was holding. If she coughed or shook the curtain, they would know that they had been overheard.

Ellie said, ‘Couldn’t we slip out? I heard her asking you to open a window. No one would miss us.’

‘I can’t possibly. It would be madness.’

‘I must see you!’

‘You saw me last night.’

So it had been Ellie Page down there in Edna’s sitting-room at two in the morning – Ellie Page.

Ellie said on a sob,

‘You sent me away—’

‘Well, if you want to ruin us both—’

‘Oh, I don’t!’

‘Then you’ve got to be patient.’

There was another sob.

‘How long is it going on?’

He said in an exasperated tone,

‘What is the good of asking me that? If I leave Edna, Adriana will cut off supplies – she has told me so right out. Well, we can’t live on nothing, can we?’

Someone moved on Janet’s left and she stepped into the gap. That poor wretched girl – what a mess! She pushed and prodded her way up to the table and set down the tray.

Mabel Preston was enjoying herself. All those nice little savouries and any amount to drink. Every time she took another glass she felt more convinced that she was right on the top of her form. After the third or fourth she had no hesitation in talking to anyone. And why not, if you please? Most of the women’s clothes were not half so smart as hers. Adriana always did go to good houses, and there was one thing about black and yellow, it showed up well in a crowd. Right from the beginning she had noticed people looking at her, which made it quite easy to get into conversation and let them know who they had been looking at.

‘Mabel Prestayne. That was my stage name — I expect you’ll remember it. It’s some years since I retired — on my marriage of course. But the public doesn’t forget. Now I always think Adriana stayed on too long. I believe in being remembered at one’s best.’

She did not really notice that the people to whom she addressed these remarks had nothing very much to say to her and soon detached themselves. She continued to sip from one little glass after another and to confide more and more frankly in the total stranger. It was disappointing that the Duchess shouldn’t be here, but she heard Lady Isabel Warren announced, and she was the Duke’s sister, which would do very nearly as well to talk about afterwards. She ought perhaps to make the next drink her last. The bother was she was out of practice, and the room was so hot. She thought perhaps she would go out into the hall and cool down. It wouldn’t do if she came over queer in a crowd like this.

Meriel edged her way between two chattering groups and skirted old Lady Bontine, who took up as much room as two other people and was a great deal harder to shift. It brought her to the point she was aiming at. Ninian was simply bound to come back this way. He set down the tray he was carrying, turned, found her at his elbow, and said, ‘Hullo!’ She gave him the smile which she had spent some time practising before her looking-glass.

‘Oh, you’re back! Did you have a good time?’

‘Quite a successful one, thank you.’

‘I wish I had known you were going up. I would have come too. I have quite a lot to do in town, but I do so hate travelling alone. It would have been delightful if we could have gone together.’

‘Well, I had to meet a man, and I was a bit rushed.’

‘A friend?’

‘Oh, just a man I know.’

She tried the smile again.

‘That sounds mysterious – and interesting. Do tell me all about it! Only it’s so hot in here — couldn’t we open one of those windows behind the curtains and slip out? We could go down into the garden and sit by the pool. It would be lovely, and you could tell me all about everything. Oh, Ninian, do!’

He had begun to wonder what she was up to. There was just one thing you could always be sure of with Meriel, and that was that she was playing a part. He thought she was being the sweet and sympathetic friend, in which case her get-up was a mistake. That slinky magenta dress and the matching lipstick! Sweet sympathy flows oddly from magenta lips. Definitely the wrong note to strike. He thought what an ass she was, and he was hanged if he was going to pour confidences into her ear in a dark garden. He shook his head and said,

‘Adriana expects me to be on duty – you too, I imagine. We shall both have black marks if we don’t get on with it. I must go and pay my respects to Lady Isabel.’

Meriel stood where she was. Why should Adriana have what she wanted? They were all at her beck and call. And why? Just because she had the money. It was no use having beauty and youth and genius unless you had the money to back them up! And why should Adriana have it and go on keeping it away from everyone else! She saw Ninian laughing and talking with Lady Isabel, and thought angrily that if she wasn’t a duke’s daughter nobody would look at her twice. The anger reached her eyes as she saw Ninian move on and find his way to Janet and Stella.

Stella caught at him.

‘She says it’s my bedtime, but it isn’t. Say it isn’t!’

‘Darling, I only wish it was mine.’

‘You can go to bed instead of me. Why should I go when I don’t want to? What would Janet do if I was to scream?’

‘You had better ask her.’

Stella swung round.

‘Janet – what would you do?’

‘I don’t know.’

Stella jigged up and down.

‘Think – think quick!’

‘There’s no need to think about things that won’t happen.’

‘Why won’t they happen?’

‘Because you have too much sense. Only a very stupid person would want to be remembered for ever and ever as the child who screamed at Adriana’s party and had lemonade poured over its head.’

Stella’s eyes became immense.

‘Would you pour lemonade on me?’

‘I might, but I’m sure I shan’t have to.’

Stella looked down at a brief yellow skirt.

‘It would spoil my dress,’ she said.

Mabel Preston stared at the little group. She saw them hazily. She began to make her way towards the door.

Esmé Trent stood with her back to the room talking to Geoffrey Ford. She said,

‘Where have you been hiding yourself? I thought you were never coming near me.’

‘Oh, there are always plenty of duty people to talk to at a show like this. I have to play host for Adriana.’

‘Getting into training for doing it for yourself?’

‘My dear girl!’

She laughed.

‘No one can hear me in this uproar. It’s as good as being on a desert island. By the way, who is that ghastly Mabel creature who buttonholed me? She seems to be staying here.’

‘Mabel Preston? Oh, she’s just an old stage acquaintance of Adriana’s – a bit of a down-and-out. Adriana has her here, gives her clothes – all that kind of thing.’

Esmé Trent was explicitly profane.

‘Well, I call it cruelty to guests. The most ghastly bore I’ve ever come across, and the most ghastly sight. Like one of those wasps you find crawling about the house after there’s been a frost and it ought to have died. By the way, where is Adriana?’

He said,

‘She was over by the fireplace. Didn’t you see her? Very good stage effect – one of those carved Spanish chairs set back against greenery and chrysanthemums – other lesser chairs for the favoured few.’

‘Yes, I saw her.’ She gave a hard little laugh. ‘How she adores the limelight! But she isn’t there now.’

Geoffrey frowned.

‘It’s frightfully hot in here – she may have found it too much for her. Edna wanted me to open a window behind those curtains some time ago. I expect I had better do it.’

They began to push their way into the crowd.

They had not seen Mabel Preston between them and the door. When they moved, she managed to get it open and slip out. Esmé Trent’s words rang in her head – her false, cruel words. How could she say such dreadful wicked things? They weren’t true – they couldn’t be true! They were just spite and envy! But her head was throbbing and the tears were running down over her face and spoiling her make-up. She couldn’t go back, and she couldn’t stay here for anyone to see her like this. Someone was coming from the direction of the hall—

She began to walk the other way until she came to the end of the corridor and the glass door which led into the garden. Fresh air — that was what she wanted, and to get away quietly by herself until she had got over the insulting things that horrible woman had said. But she had better have a wrap. The black and yellow dress was only crêpe-de-chine. There was a cloakroom here by the garden door, and the very first thing she saw when she looked inside was the coat Adriana was giving her – the one that girl Meriel had made all the fuss about. But Adriana wasn’t giving it to Meriel, she was giving it to her! There it hung, with its great black and white checks and the emerald stripe which had taken her fancy. She didn’t know when she had seen anything smarter. She slipped it on and went out into the dusk.

The air felt fresh after the heated house. She walked waveringly and without conscious aim. She really had overdone those drinks. Or perhaps it was just the room being so hot and that Mrs Trent insulting her. She had asked who she was, because she looked as if she might be somebody. Mabel Preston shook her head. Smart looks aren’t everything. She wasn’t a lady. No lady would have used such an insulting expression. The words ran together into a blur. When she tried saying them aloud they sounded exactly as if she was tight. Hot room and too many drinks – never do to go back until she was all right again.

She lifted the latch of a small gate and passed into the flower-garden. Wandering on in the half light, she saw that she had come to a place where there was a pool and a seat. Nice quiet place with hedges round it. She went and sat down on the seat and shut her eyes.

It was much darker when she opened them again, and at first she didn’t know where she was. She just woke up in the dusk with the black hedges round her and a glimmer of light on the pool. It was frightening to wake like that. She got to her feet and stood for a little, remembering. It had been hot – she had had a drink too many – and that Mrs Trent had insulted her but she was all right now – she wasn’t hot any more. A shiver went over her. Silly going to sleep like that.

She moved towards the pool and stood looking down into it. Her legs felt stiff. A small bright light came flickering through an arch in the hedge. The arch was behind her and to her left. The light slid over the black and white of her coat and the emerald stripe. It startled her, but she had no time to turn or cry out.