All My Sins Remembered (42 page)

Nathaniel put his hand on her arm. ‘Eleanor, this is Clio’s wedding, and she must have it as she wants. If she wanted massed bands and twenty attendants, she would have said as much. If she prefers beer and a chicken sandwich in Islington, then she has my blessing also.’ His eyes were crinkling over the grey and black wool of his beard.

‘I don’t think it will be quite as grim even as you paint it,’ Clio told him before she kissed him. Although in her heart she felt a shiver of doubt as to whether the party was such a festive idea as it had seemed, a month ago, when Miles had agreed to set a day for their wedding. She saw her mother and father glance at each other, and then the loving determination of their smiles.

There was an extravagant bottle of champagne keeping cool on the sill outside the kitchen window. Clio had intended to bring it in with a flourish and drink a toast to Eleanor and Nathaniel and to her own future, but the moment suddenly seemed too brittle with their separate anxieties. The champagne had better stay where it was while they attended soberly to whatever the evening required of them.

Perhaps Eleanor was right after all, she thought sadly. Perhaps there should be music and flowers, and a dress that would swirl in the scented air as she danced with her lover.

But Clio only said, ‘If we are all ready, perhaps we should drive over to Islington now in case Ruth does need any help at the last minute?’

Her little car was parked in the nearby mews. As Nathaniel squeezed into the back seat and Eleanor settled alongside her, Clio was thinking that the Austin was becoming a luxury that she and Miles could no longer properly afford. Since Miles had stopped doing hack work in order to concentrate on his book, they had had to make a series of economies so as to be able to exist on Clio’s money alone. She had a small income from her Holborough grandparents, as well as what she earned at
Fathom
, enough for one person to live modestly on but hardly enough for two. She had made the necessary sacrifices joyfully, for Miles’s sake, and for the great novel.

But her car gave her a sense of independence, and she still loved the mechanical business of driving it. Perhaps they could manage as they were for a few more months, she decided. Until Miles’s book was completed. Or perhaps she should look for another part-time job, one that would pay, instead of giving her time voluntarily to the Mothers’ Clinic. She would have to talk it over with Jake and Ruth. She had hardly seen them, except at the Clinic, since Miles had moved in, whereas the three of them had once been almost inseparable.

The weight of her anxieties seemed to depress the bones of her skull, but when she tried to single them out and confront them they shifted and slid, leaving only the sickly reminder of their pressure. I am getting married, she told herself. We shall be poor for a time, but this is what we have chosen.

The car bumped gently over the cobbles in the mews, and then turned out into Gower Street.

Ruth was in the kitchen with an apron tied over her best dress. She pulled out a drawer and gathered a handful of silver forks, then laid them in a rattling sheaf on the tray to be carried upstairs. She could hear Tabby with Dorcas in the dining room overhead. Perhaps between them they would be able to make a half-decent job of laying the buffet. Dorcas was willing enough but she was only the daily cleaner and couldn’t be expected to have much idea about waiting at table, and Jake’s sister was a good-natured girl who couldn’t keep an idea in her head for five minutes at a time. Ruth assumed that she would have to go up in the end and redo everything, but before then there was still the best cutlery to be sorted and the cream to be piped on to the sherry trifles.

She wiped her fingers on her apron and turned to the table where the dishes were waiting. They were heavy; Jake would have to carry them upstairs.

Where was Jake? He was late back from surgery, and he had promised faithfully that he would be home in time to help her.

Tabby put her head round the door at the top of the narrow stairs that led down to the kitchen and shouted, ‘Do you want us to use the big white tablecloth?’

Ruth winced. Tabitha had been staying in the house for two days and she still hadn’t understood that once the children were in bed the house must be kept quiet until they were properly asleep. Now Lucas would probably be out of bed and running up and down the stairs, and Rachel would start calling for another drink.

She went to the foot of the stairs. ‘Of course I do, that’s why I put it out. Don’t shout, Tabby, please.’

The forcing bag was in the drawer of the table. Ruth found a metal nozzle and fitted it in place, and spooned whipped cream into the mouth of the bag. The basement kitchen was dark, lit only by an overhead bulb, and she stood in her own light and frowned at the bland yellow faces of the trifles. The custard looked rubbery and was shrinking away from the sides of the bowls, but she could pipe the cream to disguise that. The cream came out of the nozzle a fat corrugated worm, following the impatient movement of her fist.

The front door opened and Jake’s medical bag thumped on the hall floor. Ruth heard him greeting Tabby and Dorcas, and then coming down to the kitchen. His bulk in the doorway seemed to darken the room further.

‘Big surgery?’ Ruth asked, not looking up from her piping.

‘Interminable. Winter’s coming.’ He came to the table, prodding a finger into a dish of potato salad and then putting his arms round her from behind. He kissed the back of her neck under the coil of dark hair. The weight of him pressed her up against the table edge and he slid his hand down over her hip.

‘Jake.’ Ruth moved to one side and went on working. He surveyed the laden table good-humouredly.

‘It looks good, all of it.’ Jake had a hearty appetite. ‘The fish especially.’

He had been down to Billingsgate Market to buy the pair of fat sea bass. Ruth had poached them in a borrowed fish kettle and now they lay nose to tail on a big oval platter, an astrological sign in hammered silver decorated with cucumber rings. The fish had been expensive, but in a private conversation Nathaniel had assured Jake that he would pay.

‘It’s what fathers do,’ he had said jovially. ‘Foot the bills.’ He was pleased that Clio was marrying at last, and believed that she was old enough to make her own decisions. Miles Lennox did not seem particularly hardy, but Clio had strength enough for the two of them.

Jake was wondering how he would feel when the time came for him to give Rachel to another man. He did not want to imagine her wriggling eel’s body transformed into a woman’s.

‘Are you going to stand there all evening, or might you go upstairs to change and then come and help me?’ Ruth asked.

‘Five minutes,’ Jake told her. He went upstairs whistling.

Don’t wake the children
, Ruth wanted to scream after him.

At last the puddings were finished and the table was ready, laid out to Ruth’s satisfaction. She was still in her apron, directing Dorcas and Tabby to move chairs against the wall when Clio arrived with the senior Hirshes. The small rooms seemed full as soon as they crowded in.

Jake accepted the praise for the buffet as if he had done all the work himself. But Clio took Ruth to one side, undoing the strings and pulling off her apron for her. ‘There,’ she smiled. She brushed the loose strands of hair from Ruth’s damp cheeks. ‘Thank you for everything.’

Ruth’s shoulders lost a little of their stiffness. ‘Well. I hope you’ll be happy. I wish you every happiness.’

‘Thank you,’ Clio said again. They kissed, and over her sister-in-law’s head Clio saw Miles arriving with Max Erdmann. Miles was wearing his good tweed jacket and a presentable shirt, even a proper tie. He was early, as he promised he would be, and he was rather pale but obviously sober. Clio’s face brightened and the sharper lines dissolved as she looked at him. She felt some of her anxiety lifting. The party would be a success, why should it not be?

They met in the middle of the room and embraced each other, to the satisfaction of all the onlookers.

‘Are you all right?’ Clio murmured. She could see the pale fuzz of hair on the rim of his ear, and a shaving nick under his cheekbone. She tried not to think of putting her mouth against it.

Miles studied her in return. She wanted to put her hands up to her hair, to pinch colour into her own cheeks to bloom for him.

‘A little tired of hiding out in Max’s sordid den.’

Max had offered to put Miles up while Nathaniel and Eleanor were staying in Gower Street.

‘Only a few more nights,’ Clio consoled him. She drew his arm around her waist and turned to face the room.

Ruth’s parents were arriving with her unmarried sister, and some writer friends of Miles followed behind them. Clio saw the Fitzroy regulars glance curiously at the table with its cargo of sea bass and fish balls, potato salads and heavy cream puddings, before herding into a corner with Max.

The doorbell rang continuously. Colleagues from the Mothers’ Clinic came in bearing wrapped presents under their arms, making Clio think hilariously of the brown paper bags of contraceptive supplies. More
Fathom
regulars appeared, apparently the closest family Miles could claim. He seemed to have no relatives of his own, but there were more than enough Hirshes and Shermans to make up for that. The noise level rose and Jake and Nathaniel pushed through the crowd, filling glasses and exhorting everyone to eat and drink and enjoy themselves.

The silver fish were already shredded and there were craters dug in the bowls of salad when Grace arrived, an hour after everyone else.

She stood poised in the doorway, looking in at the red-faced guests on their upright chairs with mounded plates and napkins spread on their knees. Clio knew that she was seeing Nathaniel and Jake holding their bottles aloft, and Ruth with her hands full of dirty cutlery, and wire-haired Dorcas shrinking behind the table as if she would be happier hiding beneath it. Miles lounged with one shoulder against the wall and a cigarette in his mouth, squinting through a plume of smoke at Clio’s grand relations.

Thomas was with Grace. He came in resplendent in his cavalry officer’s uniform, his head seemingly almost touching the ceiling, and behind him were Phoebe and Cressida and Alice.

Because she had begged and pleaded to be allowed to, Alice was staying with the Brocks instead of being billeted on Jake and Ruth. She hovered on the dividing line now, not sure whether to rush across and put her arms around Nathaniel or to linger in Grace’s scented orbit. Cressida hung back even further behind, peering around Phoebe, curious to see this first adult party but embarrassed by her own lavender ribbons and buttoned patent-leather shoes.

Grace sailed across the room. She was wearing ivory silk and her ropes of pearls and all the men in the room turned to look at her. She held two hands out to Clio. ‘I’m so sorry we’re all so late for your party. Will you forgive, darling?’

‘Where is Anthony?’ Nathaniel boomed.

Grace turned to him, smiling, with Thomas and Phoebe beside her like a pair of lieutenants.

She’s so secure, Clio thought. So certain of everything.

‘Uncle Nathaniel, Aunt Eleanor, darling, how marvellous you look.
Don’t
stand up. Anthony is partly the reason why we’re late. He’s not very well, the poor boy. He wanted so much to come, but I wouldn’t let him. He sends all his love, and apologizes, and wishes us all a wonderful time.’

‘What’s the matter?’ Clio asked. Her voice showed her concern.

‘Oh, just a feverish cold, I think. But I sent him to bed.’

Grace was a little piqued. Tom and Cim Mosley had been coming for drinks and she had had to cancel them, and then she had had to drive all the way out to nowhere on her own, with a carload of babies, to come to this impossible party. It was not Anthony’s fault that he was ill, of course. It was simply that she did not much enjoy even their own circle without him beside her.

Clio said, ‘What a shame. But I’m glad
you
could come. Miles, here’s Grace.’

With a round of introductions and greetings, the ripples that the new arrivals had made spread outwards to the walls and became part of the choppy waters of the party. Alice rushed to tell Eleanor and Nathaniel the latest elegant details of life in South Audley Street, and Clio took Cressida by the hand and led her to the buffet. Ruth continued to clear plates with her lips slightly pursed.

Grace was able to look quickly around her and establish that Pilgrim was not there. Relief lightened her mood at once. Jake made his way through the crowd. He put his heavy hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. With his height and girth he was an imposing figure, but Grace could no longer see the handsome boy in him. It was Julius who seemed always unchanged.

‘Anthony is all right, is he?’

‘I think so, doctor, thank you. He’s been overworking, rather. He gave a big speech last week on national relief schemes. He’s made an impression from the back benches already, you know.’

‘I’m sure he has. Look after him.’

‘Jakie, who are all these people?’

Jake laughed. ‘Family, and medical and literary folk, of course. Who would you like to meet?’

‘Are there any of Anthony’s constituents?’

‘I doubt it very much.’

‘Wait, then. Which are Mr Lennox’s family?’

‘Oh, I think he sprang into the world unaided.’

‘And remained unclaimed thereafter?’

‘So it seems. Until now, that is. Now he has all of us.’

They were quiet for a moment before Grace asked, ‘Do you like him?’

Jake considered. ‘I don’t dislike him. Our interests don’t coincide, but I can hardly blame him for that. I believe he’s good for Clio. Her face shines when she looks at him.’

Jake knew that look. It was the dazed impatience of sexual obsession, and he envied her. Miles was less easy to read, but then Jake did not consider it necessary to analyse his sister’s fiancé. Clio was grown-up enough to judge for herself. He simply wished the best of luck to both of them.

‘Really?’ Grace murmured. Privately she thought that Clio seemed nervous in a way that could not be explained just by the imminence of her marriage.