The Beaufort Sisters. Jon Cleary
and Nina made friends in the village, but gradually Nina began to feel homesick. Food and Christmas gift parcels arrived from Kansas City like insidious propaganda: come home, said every tin and package. But she said nothing and if Tim noticed any change in her, he also said nothing.
She and Tim and Michael had Christmas dinner alone. The table was loaded, but all the food had come in cans from America. Each of them put on a brave face, but Michael was the only one who laughed and enjoyed himself without restraint. Tim had suggested having the Hamills join them, but they had gone up to spend Christmas with some Australian friends in Earls Court. Despite fires in every room the house was cold; it seemed to have a chill of its own that had nothing to do with the weather outside. A winter wind scavenged the trees, seeking the last of the leaves; yesterday’s rain had turned to ice under the hedgerows, like negatives of shadows. When the phone rang at four-o’clock in the afternoon Nina rushed to it as if it were a lifeline thrown to her across the Atlantic, though she knew nobody would call her from Kansas City.
‘We’re here,’ said her mother, sounding warm and comfortable, as if she herself were centrally heated.
‘Where?’
‘In London, of course. At the Savoy. We were going to surprise you, be down with you for Christmas dinner, but the boat was delayed by storms. We – ’
‘Mother, who’s we? All of you?’
‘No, just your father and Meg. Your father had to come over on business – ’
‘What about Sally and Prue?’ She wanted to see them all. She still couldn’t believe her mother was in England, knew this had to be a dream and she might as well dream for the most.
‘Sally’s been left with a tutor. She’s been neglecting her school work for that blessed car you gave her. Can you imagine, she got only nine per cent in history. American history, too.’
Nina laughed and laughed: Oh God, she was glad to hear anything about any of them! ‘Prue?’
‘Has the measles. How is my grandson? How do we get down to see you?’
‘Mother, we’ll come up!’ All at once she didn’t want her parents to see where she and Tim were living; not in this season with the house as cold as it was. She was afraid they would use it as an excuse to criticize Tim, blame him for making her and Michael live in such Spartan conditions. She did not want her Christmas, which had suddenly become Christmas, spoiled. ‘We’ll have dinner at the hotel with you … No, we were going to have it tonight anyway … No, I don’t have enough for us all …’
‘Two Christmas dinners in a day?’ said Tim.
They drove up to London in the pre-war Jaguar SS they had bought when they had moved down to the country. There was still petrol rationing, but Tim got a business quota for the boat-yard and, in the spirit of spivvery of the times, each weekend he filched a gallon or two and it added to the small family allowance they got. Being able to drive up to London was a luxury in itself, another way of feeling rich.
‘Why didn’t you ask them down to the house?’
‘I thought you’d like a break – ’
He said nothing and she knew she hadn’t convinced him.
But any uneasiness vanished as soon as the family reunion took place. Her parents greeted Tim with the same warmth as they did her. It seemed that all was forgotten and this was a new start. Nina went into the main bedroom of the hotel suite with her mother, Margaret and Michael, the latter swamped with attention from his grandmother and aunt. Lucas and Tim sat down in chairs by the window and looked out on the dark river and the bombed ruins along the south bank.
‘Nina’s letters said you were doing well with your boat business.’
Tim himself had never written and he wondered how much Nina had boasted of him as a successful boatman. He said cautiously, ‘It’s too early to tell. I took over at the end of the season. I shan’t really know how things will go till the end of next summer.’
‘Well, if you need any finance … Or shouldn’t I offer that?’
‘I’ll keep it in mind.’ But the last thing he would ever do, he told himself, would be to accept money from Lucas. ‘Why are you here? Edith said you were on business.’
‘The oil company is expanding. We’re setting up an office in London, then we plan to branch out with gas stations all over the country. I’m afraid I’m an internationalist now. Never thought I would be, but a man has to change, I guess.’
‘How’s the project going in the Middle East?’
‘Abu Sadar? The place is floating on oil. Our only problem is keeping on the right side of the Sultan. He’s okay, but he’s got some sons who want to meddle. We’re starting to educate them in America now, you know? Bringing the young fellers to Harvard, Caltech, places like that. A mistake, I think. Educate the natives, you buy trouble for yourselves. Their ignorance is your bliss.’
‘That one of your own?’
Lucas laughed, slapped Tim on the knee: the armistice was complete. ‘I think it was one of your Foreign Ministers talking about the British Empire. Well, shall we go down to dinner? I guess you’re hungry as a horse?’
‘A whole stable,’ said Tim, wondering if he looked as stuffed as he felt.
The Savoy produced a cot and Michael, worn out by all the fuss made of him, was put to bed in the care of a chambermaid. Then the Beauforts and the Davorens all went down to dinner.
Tim sat between Margaret and Edith; it was the former who engaged him. He had never seen her so animated and voluble; she kept grabbing his arm to turn him back to her every time he attempted to say a word to Edith. She looked beautiful and, yes, sexy (he was surprised to find himself looking at her in that light). It occurred to him as he looked across the table that, compared to Margaret, Nina looked tired and drab. He chided himself, because he knew it was his fault.
‘Nina looks tired.’ Edith managed to get a word in. ‘Has she been unwell?’
‘The excitement has just got to her.’ But he knew it was more than that.
‘We miss her, Tim. I have to tell you that, even though you’ll dislike me for it. We miss you, too. And that last isn’t an afterthought.’
‘Of course it isn’t!’ Margaret grabbed his arm from the other side, swivelling him round; at least she was preventing him from eating, a relief he hadn’t expected. ‘We all do miss you! We’re here for a week, you’ve got to spend every day with us – ’
‘I’m a working man – ’
‘Oh bushwah! Close your old boat-yard down – give your men a vacation – ’
‘With pay? That would give your father a stroke.’
But nothing, it seemed, would give Lucas a stroke right now. All his attention was on Nina; he had re-possessed his favourite, if only temporarily. He caught Tim’s glance and he flashed a smile, the across-the-table smile, the dental fireworks that mean nothing. Or did the smile mean nothing? Tim wondered if there wasn’t a spark of triumph in it, that Lucas was beginning a new battle in which he had already made a gain.
Edith suggested that Tim and Nina stay up in town that night, but Tim, feeling perverse, said they would have to go back. ‘But tomorrow is a holiday,’ said Nina. ‘Boxing Day.’
‘You never know, there may be some fools wanting to go out on the river.’
‘Business is business,’ said Lucas understandingly, nodding in agreement. Then: ‘But maybe Nina and Michael could stay.’
Did he say that too innocently? Tim looked across at Nina and was disappointed to see how eagerly she had greeted her father’s suggestion. He felt suddenly jealous; and then, just as abruptly, didn’t