'Well, that's got rid of him, said Mildred.
Ann sat down. The outburst of tears had exhausted her. She was glad to see Mildred, yet she felt a strange alarm too at the sight of her, as if her old friend were becoming, in some inadmissible way, a rather too significant, rather too menacing object.
She said, 'Do take your coat off and stop looking as if you were going directly. You'll stay to lunch?
'That depends, said Mildred. 'And I'll keep my coat on, I'm frozen. I can't think why you don't have a fire. There, I told you so, it's raining.
Ann looked out. The sun had gone in, and with one of those sudden tricks of the English summer the garden was windswept and the grass and trees darkened and dripping. Ann realized that she felt cold too. She said, instantly overcome by a sense of the meaninglessness of it all, 'oh God, I'm so tired —’
'You need a holiday, said Mildred. She stood there still, feet apart, umbrella under Ann, hands in the pockets of her blue check tweed coat, her light sandy grey hair jumbled about her kindly face which had softened rather than wrinkled with the approach of age.
'A holiday» Ann laughed a little harshly.
'Why not? This place could go on. Bowshott could run it.
'No he couldn't, said Ann. 'Never mind. It doesn't matter. She seemed to be saying that all the time now.
'I suppose there's no news from the deplorable Randall?
'No.
'I suppose he's going to settle down with the Rimmer girl?
'With who?
'Oh Lord! said Mildred. 'Have I put my foot in it? You didn't know he was having a terrific affair with Lindsay Rimmer, you know, Emma Sands' companion?
Ann got up and pushed her handkerchief into the sleeve of her jersey. She had an immediate impression that Mildred knew very well what she was doing. She said abruptly, 'I assumed he was having an affair with somebody. I didn't know who it was. And honestly I don't care much.
'Nonsense, child, said Mildred, after regarding her for a moment. 'Of course you care. But I'm glad that you seem to have written Randall off.
'I haven't written him off. It's just that I'm not curious about the details. He'll come back. Ann spoke jerkily, her voice getting lower and hoarser like someone reciting a confession.
Mildred spoke more softly and lightly now, as if managing a transition from a spoken to a sung litany. 'I don't think he'll come back, my dear.
'Yes, he will, said Ann. She didn't want to cry again. 'Let's go to the kitchen. It's warmer, and we can have some coffee.
'And Randall is a brute, said Mildred. 'Let us call things by their names. A brute and a cad.
'Stop it, Mildred, will you? Let's go to the kitchen. How did you get here, by the way? You said you walked from the village.
'Felix brought me, said Mildred. Her tone was bleak and provocative.
Ann said, 'oh.
When she said no more, Mildred pursued, 'Yes, he's gone to Maidstone to pick up some new blades for the lawnmower. It's so useful having him at Seton Blaise. He's renovated all the machines. — He's so mechanical.
'How will you get back?
'Oh, he's coming back in an hour. I told him to look for me at the pub, or if he didn't see me there to come on up here. You might ask both of us to lunch. Or we might carry you over to Seton Blaise. Why not come and stay for a day or two and be looked after?
Ann rubbed her mouth with her hand and pushed her hair back again. The front of her mind was composed, but in the far background there was a sense of foundering, of confused panic and flight. She said, 'I'm so sorry. I think now that I really ought to go over to Clare's for lunch. I've kept putting her off. She wants to discuss the flower-arrangement competition.
.'But you invited me to lunch!
'Yes, but I'd forgotten Clare. I'm awfully sorry. It would be a bit difficult.
'Well, come to Seton Blaise tomorrow then? Felix could come and fetch you any time in the Mercedes.
'I can't, said Ann. 'I'd love to, but I must keep things going here. It's an awfully important time of year. I must do the catalogue. There's a whole lot to be added to the proofs. We're putting some new things from Germany on the market and I've got to do descriptions and get photographs and so on. But thanks! Have some coffee before you go?
Mildred just looked at her and said. 'Ann, Ann, Ann, Ann!
There was a silence between them, Mildred braced and staring, Ann with bowed head rubbing her brow and eyes slowly and methodically. Then Ann said in a weary voice, 'Come on Mildred. I could do with some coffee myself.
Mildred stood her ground. She barred Ann's way and said very quietly, 'You know that Felix is terribly in love with you?
Ann was silent, and it seemed afterwards that she had passed a vast time in reflection. What she said and did now was crucial, not so much for Mildred as for herself. Mildred had led up to her moment of theatre, but she must be cheated of it and sent away empty. There must be no drama here, no possible foothold for the imagination. What Mildred was trying to conjure up must be made nonsense of, must be made somehow not to exist. The thing must be laughed off briskly, Mildred must be clapped on the shoulder and taken to her coffee. There must be no admission of knowledge or interest, no confused looks, nothing. Again it was no and nothing.
'Yes, said Ann.
A long silence ensued during which Ann lowered her head. She knew that she was blushing violently. Her head seemed like a heavy fruit about to fall from the bough.
Mildred was tactful and merciful. She could afford to be since she was not by any means being sent away empty-handed. She said, 'Well, I won't torment you. I can see you're tired out. I won't stay for coffee, thanks. I'll improve the shining hour by buying one or two things in the village. Felix will pick me up there. Do think seriously about coming to Seton. We'd love to see you any time.
She turned to go, and nearly tripped over the dolls. 'Isn't Miranda getting a little old for dolls? She regarded the little figures. Then she began to knock them over gently: one by one with her umbrella. As each one fell backward on the floor its waxen eyelids closed.
Chapter Fifteen
'I IMAGINED you were joking. You thought just now that Emma was stealing up on you with a blunt instrument.
'Yes, said Randall. 'I'm afraid. And not only of Emma. He drew his hands now downwards from her arched shoulders along her spine to her thighs. Her elbows were planted firmly on each side of his neck: and her face hung over his, too close for him to see more than the hazy laughing glow of her expression. Her dress caressed the silk beneath as his hand gently moulded her and found the warm flesh at the top of her stocking. Randall groaned softly. Their feet were together under Emma's bed jumbled with the shoes.
'Don't be afraid, she murmured. Then she took her weight off her elbows and pressed heavily upon him while her hands fluttered about her head. The next moment something soft and cold descended and the light was blotted out. She had undone her hair.
Randall gasped at the sudden pressure and at the soft cascade. She propped herself up again, deliberately shaking her hair forward to hide her face and shaking it into Randall's eyes. There was a great deal of it. He raised his hands awkwardly and lifted the hair back over her brow, to reveal her bland and smiling beneath. He looked up at her for a moment, straining his neck, and then with a quick movement he shifted her off on to the floor. They both sat up, breathing deeply and staring at each other like two cats.
'Well, let's complete the search, said Randall abruptly. He got up and patted the side of Emma's bed into place.
Lindsay did not take his hand now, but led him into the last room, which was her bedroom. It was a smaller room which looked out on to the little evergreen garden. There was a narrow divan under the window, a table of light oak and a long shelf of brightly coloured paper-backs. The few objects which lay about Randall recognized as things he had given her: a paper-weight in the form of a hand, a miniature silver mirror, an Italian box with a lozenge pattern, a scratching dog of Derby china. It was as if she could not find things for herself. It was like a servant's room, simple, impoverished, and touching.