The Mermaid in the Basement (17 page)

Serafina paused at the door of the dining room, dreading the task of being polite to her aunt. She entered as Lady Mulvane was stating in a voice like a trumpet, “. . . and so you must not give in to weakness, Sister! We must bear the shame of Clive’s disgrace with fortitude!”

Bertha Mulvane was always ready to bear with fortitude any sort of pain—as long as it was someone else’s pain. When Serafina stepped into the room she saw that her mother was weeping silently, her face twisted with grief. Before Bertha could continue her exhortations, Serafina said loudly enough to drown her aunt’s sermon, “Why, Aunt Bertha, I didn’t know you were here.” She advanced and took the hug and peck on the cheek that her aunt offered, but spoke quickly to head off any more jeremiads from her. “Here, come and sit down by me. I’ll fix you a nice plate.”

Serafina steered Lady Bertha to a place as far away as possible from Alberta and practically shoved her into one of the heavy mahogany chairs. “I came as soon as I heard of the disgrace—” she began, but Serafina simply spoke even more loudly, “No disgrace, Aunt.We’re going to have the victory over this thing.” Serafina raised the level of her voice each time Bertha tried to speak, and after piling a plate high, she placed it before her aunt. “There, Aunt Bertha, porridge, bacon, eggs, toast, butter, and preserves. You always like Nessie’s breakfasts. Just start on that and there’s plenty more.”

Bertha was a voracious eater and attacked the food at once. Even with her mouth full of eggs, she still tried to sound a note of gloom, but Serafina’s bright, cheeerful remarks simply overwhelmed her. Finally Serafina sat down by David and said, “We’re going to have company for breakfast.” Everyone looked at her with surprise, and Bertha said with indignation, “It must be a very thoughtless person—to intrude at such a time.”

“Not at all, Aunt Bertha,” Serafina said, her voice strong and her face marked with a pleasant expression. “It’s a gentleman who’s going to be of great help to our situation.”

Aunt Bertha’s double chin trembled with anger. “You shouldn’t have a stranger coming at a time like this. I’m surprised at you, Serafina!”

“Who is our guest, dear?” Septimus asked. He had withered under Bertha’s demanding charges and was very glad that Serafina had come to blunt some of Bertha’s misdirected enthusiasm.

Serafina took a quick breath and plunged in. “The gentleman’s name is Dylan Tremayne. I invited him to come to breakfast this morning because he can help us. He’s a friend of Clive’s, and he’s offered to assist us in any way he can.”

“The actor fellow?” Septimus said. “How could he possibly help?”

Alberta turned and stared at her husband. “What do you mean—an actor?”

“Well, the fellow’s an actor. Isn’t that right, Serafina?”

“Yes, he is. As you know, Clive went to the theatre a lot to meet that woman who was killed. Mr. Tremayne and he became friends.”

“I don’t think it’s quite the right thing to have an actor having a meal in our house,” Alberta said primly. “You know what a depraved group of people they are.”

Bertha had been caught with a mouthful of mushrooms and gravy, so her response was delayed, but now she screeched, “An actor! I can’t believe it! They are the most immoral people on this earth!” She waved her fan in front of her face as if she were about to faint. Bertha never fainted. She was far too solid—and too determined to have her say about the man Serafina had invited.

“I think you’ll find Mr. Tremayne quite acceptable.” Serafina tried to think of some way to prove this and finally said, “He’s a Christian man, as I understand it. He does some mission work down on the wharf among the unfortunates there.”

“I don’t believe it! He’s probably a ranting Methodist—some sort of enthusiast!” Bertha pronounced. “You can’t have such a fellow in our home!”

Aldora was watching Serafina curiously. “But how could an actor be any help to us?” she asked. “I thought we might hire a private investigator.”

“In effect, that’s what Mr. Tremayne is, except that he’s not being paid. He really has an affection for Clive, and I think that’s important.”

“Well, I would really rather you wouldn’t ask him any more, Serafina,” Alberta said. “I don’t feel like having strangers around.” She was nervous and twisted a handkerchief in her hands, and Septimus went over to her and put his arm around her. It was an unusual gesture of affection, and Alberta looked up at him with surprise. Then she glanced back and asked, “Where did you meet him, Serafina?”

Serafina related how Dylan had visited Clive in his cell and alerted the family about its condition. She was interrupted several times by Aunt Bertha, but each time Serafina simply raised the level of her voice. Just as she was ending the story, Barden came into the breakfast room and said, “There’s a gentleman here, a Mr. Tremayne. He says he’s expected.”

“Show him in, will you, James,” Serafina said quickly.

“I hardly know how to think of an actor in the midst of our family,” Alberta said fretfully.

“It’s unseemly, Serafina!” Bertha said loudly.“You should know better.” She had no time to say more, for which Serafina was glad. James returned with Dylan and nodded. “Mr. Tremayne.”

Serafina turned to face Dylan and saw that he was perfectly dressed. He wore a checked jacket of fine wool and a fresh cotton shirt. His trousers were a fawn colour and his boots gleamed, the fine leather catching the reflection of the chandelier. Serafina went forward, saying, “I’m glad you’ve come, Dylan.”

“I hope I’m not late,”Dylan said. He smiled, took her hand and bent over it, and turned to face her family.

“I would like for you all to meet Mr. Dylan Tremayne, a good friend of Clive’s. This is my father, Septimus, and my mother, Alberta. This is my sister, Aldora, better known as Dora, and this is my son, David—oh, and this is my aunt, Lady Bertha Mulvane.”

Serafina glanced at her family, and she saw that Dora’s eyes were wide. She knew that the outlandish good looks of the actor had caught her attention. Her mother, she saw, was impressed by Dylan’s appearance also, and her father’s eyes brightened as he said, “We’re glad to have you, Mr. Tremayne.”

David said, “Can we eat now? I’m hungry.”

“Yes, of course. Mr. Tremayne, this will be your seat.” She had seated him next to her father, across from her, with Dora at his right side. But before he could sit down, she said quickly, “Come along, Mr. Tremayne, let me serve you.”

“Very kind of you, it is. I’m very hungry.” She led Tremayne to the sideboard and handed him a plate, and he filled it with food.

When Dylan was seated, Septimus said, “I haven’t had a chance to thank you properly for the service you did to my poor boy.”

“It was little enough, sir. I hope to be of further service.”

David said, “Why do you talk so funny?”

“David!” Serafina said at once. “That’s an impolite thing to say.”

“It’s all right,Viscountess. I’m accustomed to it.”He turned to David and said, “I talk funny because I come from another country, ay?”

“You ain’t an English person?”

“Well, not exactly. I come from a country called Wales.”

“Does everyone talk like you there?”

“Pretty much, Master David.”

David took a huge mouthful of eggs, and as he chewed it, he said, “Do you have any little boys?”

Dora leaned over and said urgently, “David, don’t ask such personal questions.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not polite.” Dora turned to Dylan and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Tremayne.”

“No problem it is.How is the boy going to learn if he doesn’t ask questions? No, David, I don’t have any little boys, but I hope to someday.”

David thought that over and said, “When you do, will you bring them here to play with me?”

“You may rest assured I will do exactly that,Master David.”

“How long have you lived in England?” Alberta asked.

“Oh, I left Wales when I was but a boy of ten. Came to London, I did. Had a rough time of it for my growing-up years. Then I enlisted.”

“You were a soldier?” Dora asked.

“Yes, I was. The Cavalry.”

“Did you kill anybody?” David demanded.

Serafina was at her wits’ end. She looked at David and said, “David, will you please not ask such personal questions.”

“Well, if he was a soldier, he must have killed somebody.”

“I was in some battles, Master David,” Dylan said. He looked at the boy and smiled. “They were shooting at me, and I was shooting at them. I suppose I killed as many of them as they did of me.”

Dora smiled at this and said, “There, David. Now don’t ask any more personal questions.”

“Have you been out of the Army long?” Septimus asked.

“Yes, for a couple of years.”

“I understand that you’re an actor,” Aunt Bertha said. She pronounced the word
actor
as if it were something very unpleasant. “How did you get into that . . . profession?”

“Why, by accident mostly, ma’am. I got out of the service with no money and no profession really. I took up with some folks who were in the theatrical line, and they taught me a little bit about acting.”

“Have you been in many plays, Mr. Tremayne?” Dora asked.

“Quite a few. I’m not the star of the one I’m in now, of course.”

“I hope you’ll all go see him in the play that’s at the Old Vic,” Serafina said. “He plays a rather dashing young man, sword fights and all sorts of things.”

“I’ll come and see you.Will you teach me how to fight with a sword?” David asked.

Dylan laughed and said, “I expect when you’re a little older, your family will see to it that you have fencing lessons.”

Dora leaned forward. Her eyes were large as she studied Dylan. She was excited, Serafina could tell. “What’s it like being an actor?”

“Not as romantic as most people think.Mostly it’s a lot of hard work, a lot of uncomfortable traveling, sleeping in uncomfortable, strange beds, and sometimes being run out of town.”

“Disgraceful!” Bertha muttered under her breath, glaring at him.

“Not really!” Dora protested. “Run out of town? Why is that?”

“Some of the citizens have strong feelings against theatrical people and the theatre itself. I can understand that. Many of the plays are unfit to be seen.”

“Then why do you appear in them?” Dora asked, a puzzled look on her face.

“I don’t. I appear only in plays that I think are moral, upright, and can have some redeeming social value. Plays that can help a person be better.”

“I hardly see how a person could learn morality from theatre,” Aunt Bertha said stiffly.

“Well, ma’am, the first theatre was related to the church, so the history books tell us. Drama began, at least in our part of the world, with little sketches, always biblical. The story of Job and his wife, for example, would be enacted, or perhaps the history of Noah.”

“That’s true enough,” Septimus said. “I read an account of that once, but the theatre’s come a long way from its religious beginnings.”

“I’m sorry to say you’re correct, sir,” Dylan said. “But there are some fine plays. Mr. Shakespeare has some rather raw things to say, but basically he causes people to think about right and wrong, God and eternity.”

Serafina had to speak very little during breakfast. David and Dora continually asked questions, and Septimus and her mother did the same.

Aunt Bertha, of course, had nothing kind to say. She sat there glowering at Dylan, but he smiled at her as if she were the most pleasant person alive. Between answering questions, Dylan was able to take a few bites, but was unable to finish his breakfast. Finally David said, “Would you like to see my pony? His name is Patches, and you can see my dog too. His name is Napoleon.”

“I would like to see them very much, if that’s all right with you, Viscountess?”

“Yes, David, go show Napoleon and Patches to Mr. Tremayne.”

David looked up, his eyes bright and his face excited. “This way, sir. You’ll like them. I promise you.”

As soon as the two had left the room, Dora said, “Serafina, he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen!”

“Don’t talk rubbish, Dora!” Bertha snapped.“He’s not a proper guest for our house.”

“Dora, don’t talk like that!” Alberta said, shocked.

“Well, he
is.
Are all the actors that handsome, Serafina?”

“I don’t think so.”

Aunt Bertha lifted her voice and filled the room with reasons why it was disgraceful to have an actor in “our” home. She ended by pontificating, “I don’t think we ought to admit him into our family.”

Septimus very rarely went against the wishes of a member of his family. He was more prone simply to ignore difficulties, but now he turned to face Bertha and said sternly, “Bertha, the man is an actor, and actors have a bad name, but I’ll tell you this—if he will be of any help in setting our son free, I don’t care if he’s the Antichrist!”

Bertha, for once, was silenced. She sat back, her mouth making a large O like a goldfish gasping for air.

Serafina watched through the big bay windows in the front of the house as Dylan and David moved from one location to another. She was amused at how, at one point, Dylan simply sat on the ground with David while the two played some kind of a game. She watched as Danny brought Patches out, and saw that Dylan made a great show over the pony, as he did over the big mastiff, Napoleon.