Читать книгу Scandalous Risks - Susan Howatch - Страница 33

Easter was the following weekend. In the interval I loafed, smoked and vegetated, unwilling to think deeply about the future and telling myself I needed a few days of absolute rest in order to recuperate from the horrors of London life. I did toy with the idea of reading Honest to God but the desire to escape from my problems by being intellectually mindless was so strong that I could only reread Primrose’s childhood collection of Chalet School books.

Finally I was roused from my torpor by the spectacle of Easter in a great cathedral. I avoided the Good Friday services but attended matins on Sunday morning and was rewarded when Aysgarth preached a most interesting sermon about how Christianity was all set to undergo a dynamic resurrection, recast and restated for the modern age. The Bishop, who was ensconced in his cathedra at one end of the choir, spent much time gazing up at the east window as if he were wondering how it could possibly be cleaned.

The next day Aysgarth was obliged to supervise the conclusion of the special services, but on Tuesday he was free to depart for the Hebrides; he and Eddie planned to drive to Heathrow airport and leave the car in the long-term car-park. At half-past eight that morning after Primrose had departed for her office I wandered across the courtyard of the stables to say goodbye to him, but no sooner had I entered the house by the side-door than I heard Dido’s voice, throbbing with emotion, in the hall. Automatically I stopped dead. I was still well out of sight beyond the stairs.

‘… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I absolutely swore I wouldn’t break down like this, but I do so wish you were coming to Leicestershire – I know horses bore you, but you could read quietly in the library and –’

‘Darling –’

‘– and at least you’d be there. I just think it’s so sad for Elizabeth and Pip that we’re never together on our own as a family –’

‘But that’s not true!’

‘Not on our own, Stephen – there’s always someone from your first marriage there – all right, we won’t talk of Primrose, but it just seems so wrong that we’re not going to be together –’

‘But when Lord Starmouth offered me the lodge the first thing I did was ask you to come with me!’

‘How could I when I’m ill every time I try to go in a plane?’

‘I was quite prepared to go overland, but since you were adamant that nothing would induce you to go to the Hebrides –’

‘I thought you’d back down and come to Leicestershire. I never dreamed you’d run off instead with Primrose and Eddie and – my God! – Venetia –’

‘What’s wrong with Venetia? Isn’t she Primrose’s best friend and the daughter of one of my own oldest friends?’

‘I don’t give a damn who she is, that girl’s sly, not to be trusted, a trouble-maker –’

‘My dearest, I really don’t think this conversation does you justice –’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just that I feel so depressed, so alone, so utterly abandoned –’

There was a silence. I guessed he had been driven to silence her with an embrace. Pressing my back against the wall of the passage I held my breath and waited until at last she said tearfully: ‘How I hate separations!’

‘I’ll write every day.’

‘If only there was a phone at this stupid place –’

‘I’ll try and phone from the nearest village.’

‘Promise?’

‘Of course I promise.’

‘Oh Stephen …’ Another silence elapsed before Aysgarth said abruptly: ‘Here’s Eddie with the car. Quick, take my handkerchief and dry your eyes – where are the children?’

‘I don’t know … Elizabeth! Pip! Your father’s leaving!’

At once I slipped silently away.