‘Whereas you, my dear Veronica -’
‘Whereas I -’
‘But didn’t you go a little far in sending that anonymous letter to the Count?’
Mrs Mount smiled and shifted her handsome silky legs. She sipped the cognac, then looked at Manfred. In the dim light she looked young, her face smooth, her dark eyes glowing.
‘How did you know?’
‘The Count showed me the letter and I recognized your typewriter. ’
‘Cunning old you.’
‘What I couldn’t make out was your motive.’
‘You know my motive.’
‘I mean your calculation. How was it supposed to help you to expose Tim’s fling with Gertrude?’
‘I reckoned the sudden publicity would force their hand. If it had stayed secret it would have been easier to dismantle if there were second thoughts. But confronted with us all Gertrude would be determined to go through with it.’
‘Not bad reckoning,’ said Manfred, ‘and of course I’m flattered, but you played a risky hand, Veronica. I gather you also obligingly informed Gertrude that Guy and I were lifelong enemies. Untrue incidentally.’
‘How do you know I said that?’
‘Gertrude told the Count who artlessly told me, only he didn’t put it quite like that.’
‘Nor did I quite.’
‘I can see the working here. But it could have misfired. It was likely to attract Gertrude’s attention to me. And it might have worked the other way and set off some deep anti-Guy particle in her of which we know nothing.’
‘Do you think there is such a particle?’
‘No. But one can’t be sure.’
‘I reflected on that, but I thought it more likely to put Gertrude off you.’
‘You are very thorough, Veronica.’
‘One must fight for one’s life.’
‘You exaggerate as usual.’
‘No.’
‘Then writing to tell Tim to try again, that was child’s play.’
‘It had a certain obviousness, and it worked.’
‘Tim quite loves you now I’m told.’
‘He imagines I feel a sentimental fondness for him, and that’s always endearing. I let him think so. Why miss an ally? And if Tim and I are dear friends I can monitor the marriage.’
‘Oh - my dear Veronica - !’
‘You would have said something. It was too interesting to keep mum about.’
‘About Tim and Gertrude? I don’t know.’
‘What made you so sure in France that they were having an affair, apart from their agitation?’
‘Gertrude said Tim had just arrived, but I looked at his drawings and there were too many local ones, he must have been there several days.’
‘So you think it’ll stick? After Guy, it’s so very odd.’
‘Not really,’ said Manfred. ‘A bereaved woman often falls quickly in love with a quite different man. And as you said yourself, Gertrude is a person who must love somebody. It was a terrible bereavement and she couldn’t bear it alone. She had to run to someone for consolation.’
‘To someone. It’s just as well I forced myself into your car on that occasion.’
‘No force was necessary.’
‘Well, I know you are a man who never does what he doesn’t want to do, that’s why I feel so safe with you. All right, you did what you pleased. But if Gertrude had come on to Rome instead of staying in France she might have fallen in love with you and not with Tim.’
‘And what would I have done then I wonder.’
‘I hate to think. You’ve always wrapped yourself in mystery. I feel I’ve had a narrow escape.’
Manfred smiled his bland smile. He said, ‘You’ve had a narrower escape than you realize, my dear.’
‘You mean that if Gertrude -’
‘Nothing to do with Gertrude.’
‘What then?’
‘I fell in love.’
‘What?’
‘This summer I fell terribly in love.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Mrs Mount. She sat up straight, putting her feet on the rug. ‘Who in heaven’s name with?’
‘Anne Cavidge.’
‘No!’ Mrs Mount was silent, taking it in. Then she said, ‘An unfrocked nun. You would.’
‘You are taking it sensibly.’
‘Were you afraid of how I’d take it? That’s some consolation. But I’m not taking it sensibly. I’m shattered, I’m terrified. Are you still in love?’
‘I got nowhere.’
‘Are you still in love?’
‘Very considerable discomfort remains. But it will pass. She is gone. I got nowhere.’
‘Oh - poor - old - you - But did you try?’
‘Discreetly. I was soon aware of a major difficulty.’
‘What?’
‘Her affections were engaged elsewhere.’
‘Gertrude.’
‘No, the Count.’
‘Really? I had quite set her down as being of the other persuasion. Surely Gertrude was her whole point, the object of her affections, the occasion of her departure?’
‘No doubt she loves Gertrude too,’ said Manfred, ‘but she was madly in love with our Pierre. She wanted him.’
‘So you hadn’t a chance.’
‘I hoped.’
‘But why should she run and not fight? Or did you somehow wreck it?’
‘I did nothing. Unlike you, Veronica. I am not prepared to stoop in order to obtain what I want.’
‘You accept the homage.’
‘I’m touched. You like living dangerously.’
‘Anyway, you did nothing. Gertrude acted.’
‘As you said, she simply reached out her hand and secured the Count.’
‘I suspect he was ready to vanish and Gertrude knew it. But was the Count aware of the passion he had inspired in that chaste bosom?’
‘No, I’m sure he had no idea. He loved Gertrude and he classified Anne.’
‘And Gertrude didn’t know?’
‘No. She might have cursed but she would have held back.’
‘I must say, I hardly noticed Anne at all, I couldn’t see her -’
‘Yes. A nun’s invisibility. I worshipped it.’
‘Still, it’s strange that I missed the whole business -’
‘Considering how relentlessly you watch. I thought the less you knew the better, dear Veronica. Je te connais.’
‘Ah, if I had known it all -’
‘As for Anne not fighting, consider how the poor thing was placed, loving both of them. What could she do? She had to give the Count a clear field. She probably felt she ought to help him to secure Gertrude.’
‘She never thought much of Tim.’
‘Then when Tim came back -’
‘The Count didn’t put up much of a fight either.’
‘No. The Count is a moral oddity and so is Anne. They were made for each other, but alas it was not to be.’
‘I think they’re a spineless pair. Couldn’t she have made some effort once Tim was back?’
‘The Count was obsessed. I think she hoped to win him by silent patient love. And she didn’t foresee Gertrude’s move.’
‘Then she’s a fool. I would have done. All right, don’t comment. Anyway, she waited and then hey presto it was too late.’
‘She realized how much it meant to Gertrude to have the Count eternally around the place.’
‘And to the Count to survive as Gertrude’s slave. I find it all curiously disgusting. So Anne didn’t try, she ran away. But how do you know all this? She can’t have told you?’
‘Good heavens no!’ said Manfred.
‘The sharp eye of love?’
‘I was present when the Count came to Ebury Street soon after Gertrude got back from the north. He was shuddering with emotion. Anne was patently annoyed.’
‘That could have been for the other reason.’
‘I considered that. She may have felt possessive about Gertrude. But when
I began to watch there were plenty of other signs. The way she looked at him and -’
‘Yet it remains a supposition?’
‘No, I was very sure. I had the final proof on that Polish Pope evening. The Count and Gertrude were suddenly like young lovers. Anne saw what had happened. She had a look of death in her face.’
‘She always had that look, she looked like a ghost, transparent. But when did you begin to love the cold pale creature?’
‘She impressed me very much on that first occasion when we met her at Ebury Street just after she arrived. She seemed to be something amazing, she had an authority which touched me directly. That was love. Only I didn’t realize it at once.’
‘She still smelt of the convent. But you soon realized?’
‘Yes ... it gradually ... became ... an obsession ...’
‘Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear. But you said nothing and she didn’t guess? I mean how did you get to know her at all, or did you?’
‘I talked to her quite a lot dans le cercle.’
‘But, heavens, were you ever alone with her?’
‘Yes, once.’
‘When, where?’
Manfred shook his head.
‘Did anything happen?’
‘No.’
‘You fool!’
‘It was all so amazing,’ said Manfred. ‘I became a different person, I lived in a different world where everything was huge and bright, but all my ordinary judgements left me. It was as if my mind was drained clean and I had a new mind, beautiful and clear but unfamiliar and hard to manage. All the dull old usual reactions were gone. I didn’t know how to proceed. I felt alienated and awkward and I was so afraid of making a mistake. I was terrified of giving her any shock or hurt and then seeing her draw back. It was wonderful at first that she took me for granted as someone she could easily talk to. I hoped for some miracle of communication, some moment - It was all so precious, so -’
‘So unlike the mediocre scene you usually put up with.’
‘When I was driving her and Gertrude to Cumbria - it became extreme -’
‘Oh God! I didn’t come because I thought Anne was chaperoning Gertrude!’
‘It was the other way round. I had Anne sitting next to me part of the way. I nearly went mad.’
‘Your shoulders touched. I can’t bear it!’
‘I hoped she might take some notice. We talked quite a lot, and watching a man drive can interest a girl.’
‘I fell in love with you when you were driving. But then I’ve loved you since the world began, since the big bang or whatever Gerald now thinks was the first thing.’
‘Come Veronica, you’ve loved others.’
‘Bagatelles.’
‘You loved Guy once.’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘I wanted Anne to drive the car. I had a bet with myself that if she drove the car everything would come out right. I knew that as soon as I saw her driving the car I would be uncontrollably in love and perhaps inspired -’
‘But she didn’t?’
‘No.’
‘Nor coming back?’
‘No. But I was in a different mood then.’
‘Less in love?’
‘More in love, but more patient. I was making plans.’
‘You didn’t secretly go to see her in Cumbria - ?’
‘No, no, I didn’t want to intrude on her when she was obsessed with looking after Gertrude. And I felt - not that she was fragile, I think she’s the strongest thing I’ve ever met - but that she was new and strange and a bit lost. She was so much from elsewhere. I thought I had plenty of time, and I thought I was the only one who could see her, like you said, about her being invisible. I wasn’t aware of any special danger, except of course the final one of her simply not wanting me, and this was somehow still, I can’t quite express it, all wrapped up in the wonderful totality of her. I just didn’t want to put a foot wrong. And, all the time, she was away in the north, I was so happy, just thinking of her safe up there in that place beside the sea -’
‘Yes. I can recall your happiness. I thought it had another source.’
‘Then when she got back -’
‘You realized you had a rival. But if you had declared yourself she would have succumbed, how could she not.’
‘She loved someone else. And why should she love me? I’m not irresistible.’
‘Aren’t you? I heard you offering to take her home from the Polish Pope party. Would you have kissed her in the car?’
Manfred was silent.
‘And this migraine you suddenly developed -’
‘Fictional. I was looking for something in common. We could have swopped pills.’
‘How furious Gertrude would have been, she would have fallen in love with you directly. Do you know you share your passion with Ned Openshaw? He fell totally in love with Anne.’
‘Discerning boy.’
‘I hope she has left the country?’
‘Yes.’
‘And it’s really over?’
‘Yes - it’s really over.’
‘Don’t you want to chase her now the Count’s out of the way - or are you sure you’d fail? I know you hate failure.’
‘You see-I think she’s become a nun again - not in a formal sense, but - I’d never get her, never.’
‘Too worldly? An attractive man is never too worldly for a lonely woman. However, don’t think I’m trying to persuade you!’
‘I’ve lost her,’ said Manfred. ‘And I have ... made up my mind ... to that.’
‘It’s not like you not to seize what you want. I conclude you did not love her enough.’
Manfred was silent.
‘Now you’re angry with me. I feel alienated from you. And you’ve been - you know - and that was why.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I endure your moods. I always have, it’s part of the treaty.’
‘I am grateful.’
‘Pah! Now you regret having told me. You know my discretion, where you are concerned, is absolute.’
‘Sometimes I feel sick to death of myself and everything about my life. But I recover.’
‘My loving you is part of what you’re sick of. But you recover. My love is a bond and a burden to you.’
‘A burden sometimes, a bond never.’
‘All right. You’d be off like a flash if you fancied someone.’
‘Well, I’m still here.’
‘I wish I had the magic to make you happy. I haven’t. Yet here we are.’
‘Here we are.’
Veronica looked at Manfred’s profile. She did not make any move towards him. She tucked up her feet and narrowed her eyes.
Manfred said, ‘I’m sorry you put it about that Guy and I were enemies. I loved Guy.’
‘You said he was cold to you near the end. I wonder if he saw you married to Gertrude.’
‘No, that would have been impossible, and I’m sure Guy knew it, it would have been incestuous.’
‘Because Guy was a father to you.’
‘In any case I could never have viewed Gertrude in that light.’
‘I wish you’d made that clearer earlier. I suppose you were throwing dust in my eyes.’
‘It was your idea, and it kept you occupied.’
‘It kept me thoroughly unhappy.’
‘I’m still sorry we didn’t say Kaddish for Guy.’
‘You would never have found a quorum parmi les cousins et les oncles.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘Your persistent secret sentimentality about our old religion amazes and touches me. Guy never felt like that, he wouldn’t have thanked you for your prayers.’
‘How can one be sure? When he was dying, I heard him talking to the ancestors.’
‘What ?’
‘On one of those curious evenings I came through the hall and heard him talking Yiddish.’
‘I didn’t know Guy knew Yiddish.’
‘He was all alone -’
‘Perhaps it was the inspiration of death. I shall be there myself tomorrow. Chattering Yiddish in Abraham’s bosom.’
‘Veronica, I wish you wouldn’t always pretend to be so old.’
‘Protective colouration.’
‘At least you don’t have to pretend with me. How old are you?’
‘Older than you think, younger than you think. When we travel together people say “he’s so kind to the old dear”. This used to amuse me, it doesn’t any more. But I tell you one thing on the day when you really go off with someone else I shall become a hundred in an hour like someone in a fairy tale.’
‘Oh don’t be so -’
‘Vulgar is the word. I sometimes think you fear vulgarity more than evil.’
‘Vulgarity is evil.’
‘You must admit that no one has the faintest idea about cosa nostra.’
‘No, thank God.’
‘That leaves you free.’
‘All right, all right -’
‘Everyone think’s you’re queer, and that helps of course.’
‘Veronica, please -’
‘I wish you were queer, I could bear your loving boys.’
‘Oh don’t start that again.’
‘Sometimes I feel, like my own pain, how very very sad you are inside.’
‘I have no inside.’
‘I have. I live with fear. I have nothing in my life except my addiction and that fear. Sometimes I wish a friendly cancer would end it all, or that cosmic catastrophe Gerald keeps hinting at.’
The bell rang.
‘Damn!’ said Veronica.
‘Who can it be at this hour?’ Manfred went to the house telephone. ‘Hello? Who’s there?’ He turned to Mrs Mount. ‘It’s Balintoy! ’
‘Oh good! Let him in, my darling.’
‘I’ve still got that bottle of Power’s whisky!’
They ran to the door of the flat to welcome the Irishman.
Balintoy came bounding in. His weather-beaten face looked to them older, but his eyes were a radiant piercing dark blue, a little moist now from the cold outside. Tiny snow flakes sparkled upon his overcoat and upon his curly well-tended shock of brown hair. They laughed and made much of him and settled him down with his whisky. And Balintoy, who knew more about them than they imagined, looked happily and affectionately from one to the other, and stroked them with his outstretched hand. ‘Now, my dears, tell me all the news!’
Anne Cavidge was sitting in the Prince of Denmark with Perkins on her knee. Outside it was snowing. Inside it was warm and smoky and noisy and rather dark. Anne had been there for some time, moving from one seat to another until she had got herself into a corner from which she could survey the whole bar. She was looking for Daisy.