“Be a sport,” said Milly.
“No, we can't really.”
“All right. Well how about a little present? We're professional dancing partners, you know,” said Babs.
“Oh yes, sorry, how much?”
“Oh, we leave that to the gentlemen.”
Tony gave them a pound. “You might make it a bit more,” said Babs. “We've sat with you two hours.” Jock gave another pound. “Come and see us again one evening when you've more time,” said Milly.
“I'm feeling rather ill,” said Tony on the way upstairs. “Don't think I shall bother to ring up Brenda.”
“Send a message.”
“That's a good idea … Look here,” he said to the seedy commissionaire. “Will you ring up this Sloane number and speak to her ladyship and say Mr. Grant-Menzies and Mr. Last are very sorry but they cannot call this evening. Got that?” He gave the man half a crown and they sauntered out into Sink Street. “Brenda can't expect us to do more than that,” he said.
“I tell you what I'll do. I go almost past her door so I'll ring the bell a bit just in case she's awake and still waiting up for us.”
“Yes, you do that. What a good friend you are, Jock.”
“Oh I'm fond of Brenda … a grand girl.”
“Grand girl … I wish I didn't feel ill.”
Tony was awake at eight next morning, miserably articulating in his mind the fragmentary memories of the preceding night. The more he remembered, the baser his conduct appeared to him. At nine he had his bath and some tea. At ten he was wondering whether he should ring Brenda up when the difficulty was solved by her ringing him.
“Well, Tony, how do you feel?”
“Awful. I was tight.”
“You were.”
“I'm feeling pretty guilty too.”
“I'm not surprised.”
“I don't remember everything very clearly but I have the impression that Jock and I were rather bores.”
“You were.”
“Are you in a rage?”
“Well, I was last night. What made you do it, Tony, grown up men like you two?”
“We felt low.”
“I bet you feel lower this morning … A box of white roses has just arrived from Jock.”
“I wish I'd thought of that.”
“You're such infants both of you.”
“You aren't really in a rage?”
“Of course I'm not, darling. Now just you go straight back to the country. You'll feel all right again tomorrow.”
“Am I not going to see you?”
“Not today I'm afraid. I've got lectures all the morning and I'm lunching out. But I'll be coming down on Friday evening or anyway Saturday morning.”
“I see. You couldn't possibly chuck lunch or one of the lectures.”
“Not possibly, darling.”
“I see. You are an angel to be so sweet about last night.”
“Nothing could have been more fortunate,” Brenda said. “If I know Tony he'll be tortured with guilt for weeks to come. It was maddening last night but it was worth it. He's put himself so much in the wrong now that he won't dare to feel resentful, let alone say anything, whatever I do. And he hasn't really enjoyed himself at all, the poor sweet, so that's a good thing too. He had to learn not to make surprise visits.”
“You are one for making people learn things,” said Beaver.
Tony emerged from the 3.18 feeling cold, tired, and heavy with guilt. John Andrew had come in with the car to meet him. “Hullo, daddy, had a good time in London? You didn't mind me coming to the station did you? I made nanny let me.”
“Very pleased to see you, John.”
“How was mummy?”
“She sounded very well. I didn't see her.”
“But you said you were going to see her.”
“Yes, I thought I was, but I turned out to be wrong. I talked to her several times on the telephone.”
“But you can telephone her from here, can't you, daddy? Why did you go all the way to London to telephone her? … Why, daddy?”
“It would take too long to explain.”
“Well, tell me some of it … Why, daddy?”
“Look here I'm tired. If you don't stop asking questions I shan't let you ever come and meet the trains again.” John Andrew's face began to pucker. “I thought you'd like me to come and meet you.”
“If you cry I shall put you in front with Dawson. It's absurd to cry at your age.”
“I'd sooner go in front with Dawson,” said John Andrew between his tears.
Tony picked up the speaking tube to tell the chauffeur to stop, but he could not make him hear. So he hitched the mouthpiece back on its hook and they drove on in silence, John Andrew leaning against the window and snivelling slightly. When they got to the house, he said, “Nanny, I don't want John to come to the station in future unless her ladyship or I specially say he can.”
“No, sir, I wouldn't have him come today only he went on so. Come along now, John, and take off your coat. Goodness, child, where's your handkerchief.”
Tony went and sat alone in front of the library fire. “Two men of thirty,” he said to himself, “behaving as if they were up for the night from Sandhurst — getting drunk and ringing people up and dancing with tarts at the Sixty-four … And it makes it all the worst that Brenda was so nice about it.” He dozed a little; then he went up to change. At dinner he said, “Ambrose, when I'm alone I think in future I'll have dinner at a table in the library.”
Afterwards he sat with a book in front of the fire, but he was unable to read. At ten o'clock he scattered the logs in the fireplace before going upstairs. He fastened the library windows and turned out the lights. That night he went into Brenda's empty room to sleep.
Two
That was Wednesday; on Thursday Tony felt well again. He had a meeting of the County Council in the morning. In the afternoon he went down to the home farm and discussed a new kind of tractor with his agent. From then onwards he was able to say to himself, “Tomorrow this time Brenda and Jock will be here.” He dined in front of the fire in the library. He had given up the diet some weeks ago. “Ambrose, when I am alone I don't really need a long dinner. In future I'll just have two courses.” He looked over some accounts his agent had left for him and then went to bed, saying to himself, “When I wake up it will be the week-end.”
But there was a telegram for him next morning from Jock saying, Week end impossible have to go to constituency how about one after next. He wired back, Delighted any time always here. “I suppose he's made it up with that girl,” Tony reflected.
There was also a note from Brenda, written in penciclass="underline"
Coming Sat. with Polly, and a friend of Polly's called Veronica in P.'s car. Maids and luggage on 3.18. Will you tell Ambrose and Mrs. Massop. We had better open Lyonesse for Polly you know what she is about comfort. Veronica can go anywhere — not Galahad. Polly says she's v. amusing. Also Mrs. Beaver coming, please don't mind it is only on business, she thinks she can do something to morning room. Only Polly bringing maid. Also chauffeur. By the way I'm leaving Grimshawe at Hetton next week tell Mrs. Massop. It's a bore and expense boarding her out in London. In fact I think I might do without her altogether what do you think? except she's useful for sewing. Longing to see John again. All going back Sunday evening. Keep sober, darling. Try.