A Married Man Part 6

I would, of course, but first I thought I might just pause to greet Hector, whom she'd brushed past rather dismissively.

'Hi Hector, how are you?' I reached up and bestowed a quick kiss on his cheek. He blushed predictably.

'I'm well, thank you, Lucy,' he muttered, spectacles flashing in the sunlight as he glanced nervously at his mother's back. 'Shall we ... ?'

I took the point and we obediently fell in behind the great lady, speedily following her up the mountain of steps, the boys, nimble as goats behind us.

As we crossed the threshold and went through into the vast, vaulted, black and white flagstone hall, heavy with the scent of orchids which rose from urns poised on columns, Rose paused - for effect, I couldn't help thinking. We dutifully gazed about us, adjusting our eyes to the gloom, silently succ.u.mbing to the hushed opulence of our surroundings. Above the magnificent stone fireplace a stag's head bore down with dead eyes, and from the walls, yellowing, faded faces gazed out from the ancestral oils. Dotted about sparingly was the sort of furniture one normally only views from behind a rope, and in the distance, I heard the familiar stately ticking of a large and ancient clock. The faded rose drapes at the windows, like everything elsc, bore the pall of antiquity and, more importantly, the touch of generations of Fellowes.

'Wow,' said Ben, shortly.

Rose said nothing but smiled and raised her chin in appreciation. There was a proud gleam in her eye, a certain dihedral to her nose. Timing it to a nicety, her daughter chose that moment to trip lightly down the grand staircase. One hand brushed the rail and her dark, straight hair bobbed and shone behind her, held back still, I noticed, by an eighties velvet hairband. She was wearing a sensible Liberty print shirt and skirt I knew of old. What was new, however, was the broad, bright smile, and the light in her dark eyes.

'Lucy! You're here at last!' she cried. 'How marvellous, we've been absolutely dying for you to come.'

'Have you?' I said, wrongfooted slightly and trying to keep the surprise from my voice. 'Gosh, how sweet of you, Lavinia.'

And what a cow I was for thinking she was spying on us up there. She was probably just waiting at the window. I hid my embarra.s.sment in her hair as she pecked me on the cheek.

'And you're going to just love the barn,' she gushed. 'Everyone who's seen it is so impressed. I can't wait to showyou round. I have to say, Mummy and I have worked jolly hard in there, and now it's finished, I'm even just a teeny bit jealous. Quite tempted to live in it myself!'

'Don't be silly, Lavinia, it's much too big for a single person,' said her mother crushingly, comprehensively taking the wind out of her sails.

'Oh well, Mummy, I didn't really mean-' She turned anxiously.

'I'm sure it's wonderful,' I a.s.sured her quickly, 'and I can't wait to see it. As for you . . I looked her up and down approvingly. 'Am I allowed to say . .

'That I've put on some weight?' She laughed. 'You are. Two stone actually, although admittedly most of it's up here' She indicated her huge bosom. 'But I feel marvellous. Loads better.'

'You look it,' I smiled, relieved.

Poor Lavinia, jilted two years ago by Piers, the fiance whose feet had frozen solid just as the invitations were going out and the presents were rolling in. She'd never quite got over it, and whilst not exactly Miss Havisham-esque in her grief, had nevertheless gone into a steep decline. White as a sheet, she'd wandered this house like a ghost, quite unable to eat or sleep for months, poor girl. Her whole life had been a preamble to getting married to the right man, living in the right house, and in the right county, like some throwback from a Victorian novel, but having snared her totally harmless and charmless suitor he'd glimpsed the future and done a runner. Never mind that he brayed like an idiot, wore his trousers under his armpits and had all the pre-possession of a duck, he was also in possession of a pile which, whilst not comparable to Netherby, was still 'a house one wouldn't be ashamed to entertain in,' she'd once confided breathlessly to me. Lavinia was devastated by her loss.

I remember being lost in secret, grudging admiration for Piers at the time. I wouldn't have thought he'd had it in him, to snub the Fellowes like that, but I was also deeply sorry for her. She'd suffered the most unimaginable indignity of her tribe; a huge wedding had been planned, the tiara was out of the vault, half the county were ready to a.s.semble, and then - total, naked humiliation. I wondered, then, if she'd ever get over it, but looking at her now, her hazel eyes shining in a face that was still a bit pale - but then that was her particular pallor - I thought with rclief that she had. She looked better than I'd seen her for years.

'And look at you, you great big boys!' She bent down to greet them. 'My, you've grown - haven't they grown, Hec?'

'They certainly have,' said Hector, straightening up. 'Little men, now.' He cleared his throat importantly. 'And may I say, Lucy, how pleased we all are that you decided to come and live here. We couldn't be more delighted to have you and the boys amongst us, and we hope you'll be very happy.'

This was quite a speech for Hector, and his gla.s.ses all but steamed up with the effort. His mother and sister gazed at him in astonishment.

'You sound like an alderman, Hec,' giggled Lavinia. 'You'll be growing a paunch next!'

Hector palpitated a bit behind his gla.s.ses, but I was touched. And, suddenly, thoroughly ashamed of all my doubts and misgivings. I looked at the three faces smiling anxiously at me and realised that actually, they were all perfectly sweetand it was all going to be fine. In my mind I'd stupidly let them balloon into grotesque, pompous caricatures, blue-blooded ogres, which they weren't at all, just simple, country people who couldn't be more welcoming.

'Thank you, Hector,' I smiled. 'That's so sweet of you. I'm sure we're going to be really happy here' I squeezed his arm, knowing anything more effusive would send a rush of blood to the cheeks again.

'So.' Rose clapped her hands happily. 'Come on then, let's take you boys through to the sitting room for an orange juice and a biscuit, and we'll get Mummy a cup of coffee. Oh. Where's Max?'

I swung about. G.o.d, where was Max? He was here just a moment ago, but it would be just like him to disappear to the furthest turret and stone the peac.o.c.ks the moment we arrived.

'Here,' said a little voice behind us as he appeared from down a long corridor. 'I went to the toilet.'

'Loo, darling,' I breathed nervously. 'They say that at school,' I muttered.

'Well, clever boy for finding the right place,' said Rose, which made me quake again. G.o.d, what exactly had he found to pee in? A priceless commode? Archie's gun cabinet?

'And did you wash your hands?' she tinkled merrily, leading him off down the corridor.

He gazed at her solemnly. 'No, but I licked them' Rose dropped his hand hastily.

'Max!' I squealed.

'Ah, well,' Rose purred, 'you'll soon get used to our funny little ways. I'll introduce you to the delights of Wright's Coal Tar tomorrow.'

'But Rose, he-'

'But for the moment,' she swept on, ignoring me, 'refreshment! Here we are,' she hung a left down the panelled corridor. 'In here I thought, it's cosier. And let's hope the dogs haven't scoffed all the Jaffa Cakes!'

Still smarting with embarra.s.sment I followed her into the sitting room. A long stool in front of the fireplace was laden with coffee, juice and biscuits which the boys fell on instantly.

'Steady.' I gripped Max's wrist just a little too tightly as it flew to the plate.

'Ow!' He turned on me. 'That hurt!'

'Just behave,' I breathed, fixing him firmly with my eyes, then adding brightly for Rose's benefit, 'Oooh, Jaffa Cakes, Max. How lovely.'

I perched apprehensively beside him on the club fender. Rose had indeed chosen one of the few cosy rooms in this vast mausoleum of a house for our induction, and Jaffa Cakes out of a packet with the boys kneeling on a rug and patting the dogs whilst they ate, would never have been allowed when I'd first met Ned. I had a feeling Rose had planned the consciously casual ambience rather meticulously, even down to the newspapers strewn about on the floor, but so what? That in itself was considerate, designed to make us comfortable. And perhaps, too, I was being cynical and they really had relaxed a bit. They certainly looked less tucked up, I thought, watching Lavinia laugh with Ben. I glanced about the room. Family photos as usual abounded, but it seemed to me that the serried ranks featuring Ned had gone. I peered. Yes, just one or two. Rose caught my eye.

'I put them away,' she murmured. 'Can't live in the past forever, can we? Time to move on.'

She regarded me over her coffee cup and I smiled gratefully back. I made a mental note to check out the fossil collection and the cricket bats tomorrow and phone Jess triumphantly if they too had disappeared.

'What's this one called?' asked Ben, hugging a huge s.h.a.ggy lurcher and sharing his biscuit with him.

'That's Hoover, and you can see why,' remarked Rose as he slavishly licked the carpet clean of crumbs.

Ben laughed. 'Better than a hoover!'

'And that,' said Rose pointing to the one sitting in front of Max, quivering with excitement as she watched him for t.i.t-bits, 'is his daughter. So guess what she's called?'

'What?'

'Dyson.'

The boys were delighted with this. 'And is she going to have puppies?'

'Yes, if we can find a suitable mate.'

Ben instantly ransacked his memory bank for more household suction appliances to cover this eventuality.

'Electrolux! If she had puppies you could call one Electrolux! Or or just Vacuum, that'd be good'

'Or d.i.l.d.o,' said Max thoughtfully.

'Max!' I gasped, horrified. 'Where did you hear that word!' 'Pietro told me. Rozanna's got one in her flat. He went in one day and saw it by her bed. You turn it on and it shakes.' 'Well, that's not a hoover then is it?' demanded Ben. 'That's no good, it's got to be a sucky thing'

'More Ribena, boys?' murmured Lavinia, getting up to pour and shooting me a faintly hysterical look. Hector gazed, puce-faced, at his shoes, whilst Rose looked thoughtful.

d.i.l.d.o. Pretty name. Why not? I'll put it to Archie'

'How - how is Archie?' I managed, hoping to G.o.d she'd forget, or that finding a suitable mate for Dyson would prove as difficult as it was for her children.

'Fine,' she beamed, 'in' peak condition, as he would say. Fishing, naturally, at the moment, or supervising the re-stocking of the river, but longing to see you. He sends his regards and you'll see him at supper. I thought we'd have an early supper, incidentally, so that the boys could join us. Or,' she added anxiously, 'or maybe you'd prefer to be on your own the first night?'

'An early supper would be fine,' I soothed. 'Thank you for including us.'

'Excellent.' She looked relieved. 'So, let's go and see the barn.' She rose abruptly and stood before me, sovereign and motionless.

'Oh! Right.' I startled. Threw a cup of hot coffee down my throat.

The others jumped up too, quite skippy with excitement, and it dawned on me that this was quite an event. Even Hector was hopping about a bit and I prayed the boys would react well, enthuse madly, that we could all come up with some kind of reciprocity of scale.

I needn't have worried. As we trooped out of a side door, followed a gravel path past a number of formal beds, skirted the old kitchen garden and Orangery and headed for the most park-like fringes of the place, I suddenly spied it across the lake.

'Oh!' I stopped in my tracks. Shaded my eyes. 'Is that it?'

I was genuinely surprised. Where once had stood a fairly grotty, dilapidated barn on the far bank, now stood a very smart, timbered and whitewashed affair, complete with a reclaimed slate roof, a weather vane on top, and surrounded by a riotous jumble of cottage garden.

'Oh, but it's gorgeous. Look, boys, isn't it heaven!'

But they were off already, running down to the water's edge, thundering across the wooden bridge that crossed the - narrowest part of the lake, and up the bank towards the little picket fence that surrounded it. It was closer to the main house than I'd remembered, I thought, glancing back at Netherby with a secret qualm, but at least we were separated by the water, I consoled myself rather guiltily.

By the time we'd got there, the boys were already thundering up the path and throwing back the front door.

'Look, Mum, it's huge!'

I peered inside. Blinked. It was. Because true to the natural aesthetics of a barn, it had been left open and cavernous insidc with no obvious part.i.tions. I walked into the most magical room I had ever seen. The floor was of seasoned wood, the walls, whitewashed and beamed, but hung with Navajo-style stripy blankets, and the sitting area, a square of colourful, squashy sofas and armchairs covered in Kelim tapestry; all flowed effortlessly into a dining area with a robust wooden table that faced the garden, and beyond it, a small wooden kitchen. Up above, and running all around, was a gallery, and up higher still, exposed rafters supported the roof, huge ones, that had been strippcd back to their natural pale pine. It looked like the ultimate log cabin, where a person could snuggle down in one of the deep, cushion-strewn sofas and not emerge for days.

'Oh Rose, it's wonderful,' I breathed, meaning it, and delighted I could mean it, too.

'Do you like it? Do you really like it!' Lavinia was beside herself with excitement, rushing to the windows to fling them open. 'Look at the view, Lucy. You can see all the way up through the meadow to the old folly, and then right up to the woods!'

I went across to admire. Outside, a sillful of wisteria snaked about. I smiled with pleasure. 'It's fab, Lavinia. Really fab.' 'Up here, Mummy! Look!'

The boys had clattered up to the gallery and were leaning over. 'There are some rooms up here, Mum, bedrooms, and - ooh, look!' They disappeared into one. 'This is ours, must be, because it's blue with two beds in it and - oh! A train set! Hey, Mummy, there's a train set! A Hornby one!'

'Hector's old one,' explained Rose. 'And I put them in together because I knew that's what they were used to in London.' She sounded anxious. 'There is another bedroom, only it's much smaller and I didn't know if Max might feel aggrieved'

'No, together is perfect,' I said. 'Just perfect. And just as they'd want. Thank you, Rose. Thank you so much.'

As Rose despatched Hector to supervise the bringing round of my luggage, I wandered around touching everything, taking it all in. Stroking the backs of the sofas, running my hand along the granite work surface that divided the kitchen, feeling the soft, thick curtains, admiring their warm stripes of ochre, grey and spicy red; soft, unpretentious, expensive.

'But the money,' I breathed, 'I mean, to convert this place. The plumbing, the lighting, and then - then putting in a properfireplace, and all these furnishings!' I knew it was unutterably vulgar to mention the subject in this family, but I simply couldn't help myself.

'Now don't you worry, Lucy,' said Rose, quickly coming over and putting a hand on my arm. 'I wanted to do this for you and the boys, but .. ' she hesitated. 'Well, I wanted to do it for Ned, too,' she fmished softly.

I hung my head. Waited. This would normally be the cue for a hanky to come out of a sleeve, for a small sniff, a dab at the eye and then a reminiscence; a story of the day she'd taken him to the village fete and he'd won the best-kept rabbit compet.i.tion, or the day he'd accompanied her to the sheepdog trials, and then the sniff would turn into a full-blown weep, and Lavinia would rush up to console her. I steeled myself -but nothing. Instead, she smiled, shook her neat grey head impatiently.

'Anyway, it's what I wanted to do, and it's given me an aim, a project. We've loved it, haven't we, Lavinia? Every second. Had real job satisfaction. Don't quite know what I'm going to do with myself now.'

'I'm not sure I do, either,' I said nervously. 'You see, I'm afraid they've ditched me at Christie's. Couldn't cope with me being quite so temporary, apparently. I'll have to look for something else. Something round here.'

'Oh, what a shame' Rose looked genuinely concerned. 'You loved that job'

'But quite nice to have a break from it, surely?' suggested Lavinia. 'I mean, you're not exactly desperate to work, are you?'

'Well, I'll need the money, obviously.'

'Oh, but my dear, I intend to pay for everything here,' said Rose in surprise. 'You know that, surely? All your bills, your gas and electricity, telephone you won't actually need much money.'

'I couldn't possibly let you do that!' I said, horrified.

'Nonsense, I do it for all the othcr children. I do it for Lavinia, in her flat, and Hector in his cottage on the estate, and Pinkie in her rooms here, why on earth wouldn't I include the barn? Of course I would. And it would be quite wrong of me not to,' she added firmly. 'Quite wrong. And actually, Lavinia's right. Now that the school fees are covered and what with the money you got for the flat in London well, you won't need to work.'

They regarded me squarely. I felt a bit like Lear, trying to explain his frivolous need for soldiers to Goneril and Reagan. Reason not the need. But she was right. If she was covering all my bills, and all I had to do was find the wherewithal for food and clothing for me and the boys, the Royal Avenue money would easily cover it. I was grateful, overcome even, but panicky too. I took a deep breath.

'You're very kind, Rose,' I said carefully, 'but you know, I will have to do something. Find some sort of employment, just well, just for me. To satisfy myself. I also have to have some sort of financial independence. Because although I'm obviously going to be here for quite a while, who knows, maybe one day ...' At this point my courage failed me. It seemed so churlish to mention it. To mention moving on, buying my own house, standing here as I was in her luxurious barn, her wide, anxious blue eyes upon me.

'Well, one day, who knows.' I finished lamely. 'You've all been so incredibly kind, but I do feel I'd like to do something.'

Lavinia seized my arm urgently and brought her face close to mine. 'Prison visiting,' she hissed. 'That's what I do. Honestly Lucy, it's marvellous, and quite, quite gripping. You should hear some of the stories they tell me' Her bosom began to heave rather alarmingly. 'Quitc unprintable! And I really get through to them too,' she added earnestly. 'Those poor, poor misguided men. I really,' her bosom lurched again, 'you know communicate with them. It's so spiritually uplifting, I can't tell you'

I had an idea it was their spirits that were supposed to be lifted, but I let it pa.s.s.

'Er, yes, well, prison work would be lovely, or-'

'NSPCC?' Rose swooped, with a quick, hawk-like plunge of the nose. 'I always did the NSPCC when I was younger, remember, Lavinia? And we had a super committee. Hugo Ashworth was chairman then, of course.' She looked wistful. 'He had the most marvellous b.a.l.l.s.'

'Oh!' I blinked.

'Yes, huge. In his old barn. We used to get at least three hundred in there, plus a jazz band. Or Cancer Relief? That's very rewarding, if you get the right people.'

What dying? I wondered wildly. Or just on chemo?

'Er, yes, maybe. Or,' I ploughed on bravely, 'or, you know, perhaps something in an office? Or a shop?'

Rose looked thoughtful. 'I believe Save the Children has a shop in Oxford'