Havisham: A Novel (19 page)

‘Not at all.’

‘I’ve looked for redeeming virtues. I just can’t find any.’

‘Somewhere there must be.’

He shrugged Arthur off. What interested him, he said, was being allowed to see the brewery.

I asked Tice if he would show my guest round.

‘
If
you’d be so good,’ Charles said to him.

Tice drew himself fully upright. But of course, I told myself, he’ll stand to attention for a man.

I waited until they’d finished.

‘Don’t pretend
that
was a pleasure!’

‘But it was. You’ve known this place all your life, remember. It’s an adventure to me.’

‘Really?’

We had tea outside in the garden. I was a little nervous, in case Arthur appeared again. I chattered away, I spoke too much.

Arthur only appeared as we were saying our goodbyes. He might have timed it for that moment.

Another sneer.

But the two went off into the stable together, where Charles’s mount was waiting.

I heard them talking. Arthur wasn’t being openly insulting, I hoped.

I waited.

Something was said: ‘… a licence to print money, isn’t it?’

It must have been Arthur speaking. Denigrating Havisham’s, as ever.

Charles came out, leading his roan stepper which I had helped him to buy.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ I said.

‘He’s all right.’

‘You don’t have to say anything nice about him. On
my
account.’

‘He’s not so bad.’

‘I don’t understand him at all.’

‘It’s easier for a man, maybe.’

‘That’s what I value about you,’ I said.

‘What’s that?’

‘Oh … your optimism.’

‘Is that how you see me?’

‘Looking on the bright side.’

‘In lieu of all the other trappings?’

‘It’s a spiritual gift.’

His eyes widened momentarily, as if my observation alarmed him.

‘Money alone can’t buy it,’ I said. ‘Or privilege either.’

T
WENTY
-
SEVEN

A few weeks later.

*   *   *

‘I hear’, I said, ‘that your knowledge is very impressive, Mr Compeyson.’

‘Met a brewer once. Things’ve stuck in my head.’

‘I’ll teach you what I know,’ I heard myself telling him. ‘If that’s any use.’

‘“Use”? You’re schooling me?’

I felt I was in danger of blushing.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’ll need your advice. I mean, I would appreciate if you –’

‘I’d be honoured. Couldn’t be taught by better, could I?’

*   *   *

Before my father’s physical decline, production of strong beer was running at over twelve thousand barrels per annum. I made that my own target.

I was buying another five public houses, at prices between £230 and £480 each. Including another thirty-six tied premises, the number of publics we supplied had risen to eighty-six.

*   *   *

On his visits to the town Charles put up at the Blue Boar. He ate there, unless I had invited others to dinner at Satis House, when I would persuade him to join us. But in Cinderella fashion, he was the first to leave. All this punctilious formality, this terrible fear of committing an improper deed. All this intense frustration he let build up inside me. I asked him to stay on awhile in the house, so that we might walk in the garden or sit by the fire, talking, dreaming of life.

But no, he must be getting back.

‘If you really have to.’

‘We can’t always do as we want.’

‘No?’

‘There are rules. Precepts.’

‘You’re right.’

But I said it sadly.

*   *   *

It occurred to me that perhaps they hadn’t been what they’d seemed to me, those three men who appeared at the front door in their threatening poses, asking for Arthur.

I had no trust in anything Arthur said. All I could take as honest was his determination to embarrass me, to provoke my conscience, because it was I and not he who had inherited the greater part of the Havisham wealth.

Organising a few stage stooges to appear on the doorstep of Satis House, that would have been nothing at all to someone of Arthur’s deviousness.

‘It’s only fifty.’

‘
Another
fifty pounds you’re asking me for. Added to the hundred.’

‘I got my sums wrong.’

Here’s yet another scene.

‘How long d’you imagine this is going to go on?’

‘It’s just to tide me over.’

‘You never tell me. What these “expenses” are.’

‘That’s because you don’t want to know. Tell me you do.’

‘Your life doesn’t interest me, Arthur.’

‘Maybe I’m keeping another household.’ He laughed. ‘I’ve got a nice little wife. And we’re planning a brood of children.’

He continued laughing.

‘That
is
a joke,’ I said.

‘What is?’

‘You married. And a father.’

‘And you see
yourself
married, I suppose?’

I looked away.

‘All nicely set up?’ (How bitter his voice sounded.) ‘With the man of your dreams?’

*   *   *

First, Charles told me the house in Blackheath was shedding masonry. Then, that the building was being pinned up. For weeks the air had been thick with dust; the mortar wouldn’t dry. The floorboards would have to be replaced. An elderly uncle was about to descend, needing to convalesce.

‘From Norfolk?’ I asked.

‘Norfolk?’

‘Your relatives. In Norfolk. Or Suffolk.’

‘Yes, Norfolk. That’s where he’s from. From Norfolk. He needs looking after, so I’ve got someone in.’

‘Oh.’

‘Just a nurse. Sort of nurse.’

I nodded.

‘He can get up to the river?’ I asked.

‘Who can?’

‘Your uncle. You’re close to the river in Blackheath?’

‘He’s a cussed so-and-so. I don’t want to inflict him on you.’

‘He’s improving?’

‘His health is. Not his temper, though.’

‘He’ll go back to Norfolk?’

‘To Norfolk? Yes. Eventually.’

‘Poor you.’

His spirits seemed to sink a little at that. His smile was wan. He shook his head.

‘I don’t deserve sympathy,’ he said.

*   *   *

I found I was trying now to excuse Arthur to Charles. I didn’t want anything to come between the two of us, even that wretch.

‘But you told me he wasn’t up to it – didn’t you?’

‘He lacks experience,’ I said.

‘He’d ruin the business, though. Given a chance.’

‘His mind’s on other things. He’s younger than –’

‘Catherine, it’s useless. You can’t go on defending him.’

‘Couldn’t he learn?’

‘No. He’d be useless in a situation like this.’

‘So, what can I do about it?’

‘Look – Arthur needs money. Access to money.’

‘Certainly he does,’ I said. ‘I can’t tell for what –’

‘Let’s not enquire.’

‘That’s his argument, “you wouldn’t want to know”.’

‘Take your pick.’

‘Gambling?’ I suggested.

‘Very probably. But our concern is to get him off your hands.’

‘Indeed.’

‘So – so you have to pay him more.’

‘No. No, I thought you said –’

‘Wait a minute, Catherine. Pay him, in return
for
something. Something that you want.’

‘What’s that? What do I want?’

‘His share in the business.’

‘I beg your pard—’

‘You heard me.’

‘Yes, but…’

‘If you pay – if you pay for his holding in the company … You see the advantages, don’t you?’

‘I’m trying to.’

‘Then you wouldn’t have the worry of his involvement!’

‘How would –’

‘It can be done in stages.’

‘But the cost of it!’ I said.

‘It would cost you a lot. But think of the rise in profits.’

‘It would mean – I’d have to take over all the running, wouldn’t I?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘“Not necessarily”?’

Might I not, he asked, think of engaging some assistance?

‘What kind of assistance?’

‘Sharing the responsibilities.’

‘How?’ I asked.

‘Turning it over to a new senior manager.’

‘I don’t know who…’

He was smiling. He started to laugh.

‘
Who?
’ I said.

‘Who do you think?’

It took me three or four seconds to realise.

‘
You?
’

‘Don’t sound so aghast!’

‘But I hadn’t…’

‘Why not? I know what I know. And I’ll learn. Quickly. I promise you.’

I stood staring at him.

‘Your father didn’t have you mixing with the Chadwycks so that you’d come back to run a brewery.’

I nodded at that.

‘
And
,’ he said, ‘it’ll give us a chance to be together more often. Won’t it?’

He reached forward and took my hand. His was warm. I felt the surge of energy in the fingers.

He raised my hand. Lightly, tenderly, he touched the back with his lips. How – how could I have thought to refuse?

‘But,’ he said as he straightened, as he gently let go of my hand, ‘I shall ever be discreet.’

How could I have told him that I didn’t care if he was not; that I secretly wished he wouldn’t be – that he’d be anything but.

*   *   *

I wrote to Arthur in the fleshpot resort where he had taken up residence. I set out my proposals, the financial terms.

At first he refused me.

‘Well, let
me
try dinning some sense into him.’

Whatever Charles must have said, Arthur was persuaded, and he agreed to my buying an initial portion of his interest.

The next time he was asked, the price of his remaining interest was doubled.

Charles reported back to me.

‘That’s just business, Catherine, I’m afraid.’

I sat down to complete another banker’s order. I had never seen, let alone written, such a large figure before.

‘You’re hesitating…’

‘It was my father’s wish. For his son. His atonement.’

‘Courage, Catherine.’

‘If my father could’ve seen how much…’

‘That’s Arthur’s asking price. He won’t give an inch.’

‘You’re quite sure?’

‘
Quite
sure.’

‘Very well.’

‘You’ll recover it. And more. Much more.’

‘It will take a while.’

‘But if you don’t act, if you don’t do this – Arthur will be disagreeing with you about everything. He’ll be saying you can’t do this or that, you’ve no warranty, no authorisation –’

Charles unfolded a letter from Arthur’s lawyer.

‘This is
our
authorisation.’

‘True,’ I said. ‘True.’

I started with a bold flying flourish to the first numeral of the total amount.

*   *   *

Charles was coming down from London each week, putting up at the Boar. He had asked me to appoint a works manager beneath him.

‘For the hard graft,’ he laughed.

‘You work hard too,’ I said.

‘They’ll think I’m pushing my way in. A cuckoo in the nest.’

‘
I
appointed you.’

‘You’re the chief. I tell them that.’

‘I know what they feel about having a woman in charge. Not that I am,’ I added quickly. ‘That’s why I’m so grateful. Having you here. To deal with the men.’

‘Man to man.’

‘Yes.’

‘Perhaps they’re talking behind
my
back too.’

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘They’ll say – I don’t know – that you have me on a leash or something.’

‘Then show them you know your own mind.’

He came a step or two nearer. Very close to me.

‘No,’ I said, ‘remember the hermitage –’

He stopped just in time. I had a memory flash of the two bodies locked together on the floor, passion sweeping all before it. A ferocious longing had welled up inside me, but now it collapsed in on itself again.

*   *   *

‘I hear you’ve had a visitor,’ Charles said.

‘Yes. Yes, I have. Mr Jaggers.’

‘At your request?’

‘No. Not at all.’

‘A social call?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘About the Chadwycks?’

‘He was just – taking stock.’

‘A general sort of taking stock, was it?’

‘He’d been aware I was drawing on my personal funds.’

‘He misses little, our friend.’

‘That’s what I’m paying him for.’

‘To be your lawyer?’

‘Everything tidily within the law. “Nothing to upset the King”. As he puts it.’

‘And is there?’

‘No. Naturally.’

‘Naturally. He confirmed that, I hope.’

‘I explained about Arthur.’

‘If that’s any of his business.’

‘I don’t mind. I have a soft spot for the formidable Mr Jaggers.’

I paused.

‘But you’re not “soft” on him?’

‘Good heavens, no!’

I had an item of information to impart, gleaned from my visitor.

‘The lawyer Arthur asked us to use –’

‘Yes. Crabbit.’

‘Apparently he’s a crony of Snee’s.’

‘Who’s Snee?’

‘Someone I once crossed.’

‘Is this significant?’

‘The coincidence is peculiar.’

‘Coincidences always are. That’s their nature.’

‘Yes,’ I said, inattentively.

Snee wished to do me no favours. If he was involved, it was to exact some revenge – blatant or, more troublingly, covert – on his former castigator, Catherine Havisham.

*   *   *

I came back one day to learn that Arthur had cleared out the rest of his belongings from the house. A few small
objets
were also missing from the downstairs rooms – a silver box, a silver tankard engraved with our ‘H’ emblem – but I wasn’t bothered: it only mattered to me to be shot of
him
.

A note left for me announced that, all being well, I had seen the very last of yours truly. Now the two of us, he said, could have the run of the place. He wasn’t sorry that he wouldn’t be setting eyes on god-forsaken Satis House or this privy-hole of a town ever again.

T
WENTY
-
EIGHT

Charles should look like a man of parts. I made him buy a supply of banyans for himself; Indian nightgowns. Waistcoats came curved now, with a narrow tail, and so I said he ought to have those too. A selection, embroidered as well as plain. And the new round hats with uncocked brim. And large buckles on his shoes, just as the macaronis used to wear.