The Swallow and the Hummingbird (47 page)

Max raised his eyebrows and grinned to himself for no one was more eccentric than Mrs Megalith. She hadn’t seemed to age in all the years that he had known her. She still suffered from the effects of the doodlebug that had fallen on her sister’s house during the war and had walked with a stick for as long as he could remember, which made her appear older and more vulnerable than she really was, but her debility was deceptive. Perhaps her hair was whiter but it was still thick and glossy and her skin was as plump and dewy as that of a much younger woman. Like the rest of the house and gardens she had been touched by that inexplicable magic and would probably outlive them all.

‘Bring me a sherry,’ she said and looked at him over her glasses with a knowing glint in her moonstone eyes. There was little that escaped her notice. ‘Why are you looking like the cat that’s got the cream?’

Max longed to tell her that he was going to propose to Rita. He was barely able to contain his nervousness, but he didn’t want to spoil it for her. If she didn’t know already then he had a rare opportunity to surprise her. ‘I’m just happy to be home,’ he said. Mrs Megalith snorted through her nose and raised her eyebrows suspiciously.

‘You’ve always been a dark horse,’ she said, taking the glass of sherry from him. He sat down opposite her and leaned back and stretched. ‘It’s high time you found a girl to spend all that money on.’

Max chuckled. ‘They don’t grow on trees, you know,’ he replied.

‘Sometimes all a person has to do is look under his nose.’ Max narrowed his eyes and wondered whether she already sensed his intentions. Had Rita spoken to her? Did Primrose know something of her feelings?

He decided to double bluff. ‘How’s Rita?’

Now Mrs Megalith put down her sherry glass and took off her glasses. ‘Thanks to you Max, she’s very content.’

‘How do you mean?’ He barely dared breathe.

‘She’s happy. You’ve enabled her to make something interesting out of that dreadfully tedious job in the library. You’ve encouraged her to read books and meet fascinating people. She’s busy and her life has purpose. I think she’s seen George and Susan and realized that she’s got her own life to lead. That silly pining is done with, I hope. She’s looking marvellous and has a spring in her step. About time too!’

Max took a sip of wine and tried to steady his twitching nerves. He was greatly encouraged by Primrose’s words. It was only natural that their friendship should flower into something deeper.

‘I’ll go and see her this evening,’ he said, draining his glass.

‘She’s spending Christmas at Bray Cove so she can enjoy the children.’ Mrs Megalith noticed his disappointment and added, ‘Why don’t you wait until tomorrow? They’re all coming for Christmas lunch. Ruth’s chosen the fattest turkey especially.’

‘I suppose she’ll be having a quiet Christmas Eve with Maddie and Harry,’ he said flatly.

‘I lit the Menorah with Ruth, you know. Old habits die hard,’ she said with a chortle. ‘Do you remember how I used to tell you the story about the wicked King Antiochus who tried to stop the Jews from worshipping God in their own way?’

‘Yes, and we used to make stars out of foil and hang them from the kitchen ceiling.’

‘You used to love hunting for your presents. One day you’ll do all that for your children so they know where they come from.’

Max brightened up at that thought. He imagined a house like Elvestree, a roaring fire in the grate and Rita surrounded by their children. He had waited years for her. What was another day? He would propose to her tomorrow.

That night Ruth and Max went for a walk around the garden. They wandered across the lawn where the moon shone so brightly in a crisp, starry sky that the estuary glittered below like a diamond-studded gown draped over a sandy bed. Max smoked, wishing that he were there with Rita, for the night was as romantic as he had ever seen it. Ruth confided in him about the young student doctor with whom she had fallen in love, but Max felt unable to share his own secret with her. He had kept his feelings to himself for so long he was reluctant to open up now until he had something definite to divulge.

‘Do you know, if she had lived, Lydia would be twenty-six and a half now,’ said Ruth suddenly. Max stopped walking and stared at her. It was the first time they had ever talked about her. Even on the train after the service at Bevis Marks she hadn’t mentioned their baby sister. ‘I wish I remembered her,’ she said. ‘I wish I could remember what she looked like.’

‘I don’t remember either.’

‘I sometimes feel so afraid, Max, because I can’t see Mother and Father. I can’t visualize their faces. I try, but it’s a mist. Then I have to look at that photograph. That old, fading photograph. It’s all I have left. Even memory fades.’

Max put his arm around her and kissed her temple. She had been withdrawn all day, but neither Mrs Megalith nor he had taken much notice. She had always had a quiet nature, a reserved figure who said little and kept her thoughts to herself.

‘Why now, Ruth?’ he asked.

She turned to him with eyes that sparkled in the moonlight. For a moment she hesitated as if having second thoughts, but then she blinked away a tear and her lips quivered. ‘Because I’m expecting a baby and I wish Mother were here.’ Max drew her into his arms and hugged her.

‘You’re pregnant?’ he asked in amazement.

‘Yes, and I feel so alone.’

‘God, Ruth, you’re not alone. I’m here.’

‘I know but . . .’

‘Is the father standing by you?’ he asked. ‘If he’s not I’ll . . .’

‘Yes. Oh, Max, we love each other,’ she interrupted hastily, sensing his anger and feeling heartened by it.

‘Will he marry you?’

‘He wants to, but he doesn’t have any money. He hasn’t qualified yet. He lives with his parents.’ She sniffed and lifted her chin.

Max was horrified at his neglect. He had been so preoccupied with Rita he hadn’t noticed his sister’s predicament. He was ashamed of his own selfishness and determined to put it right. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘I’m telling you now.’

‘You’re the only family I have, Ruth. You know I’ll take care of you.’ She smiled at him gratefully and wiped her eyes. ‘You’ll never want for anything, I promise you.’

‘You’re so good to me, Max.’

‘You’re family. What belongs to me belongs to you.’ He curled a stray piece of hair around her ear. ‘Is he a good man?’ he asked.

‘The very best.’

‘Then marry him and pretend you’ve inherited money from Primrose or something. Don’t tell him I’m financing you, it might hurt his pride.’

Ruth wound her arms around him. ‘Thank you, Max,’ she whispered into his neck, unable to believe that all her problems had been solved in a single conversation.

‘I only ask one thing,’ he said in a steely voice. ‘Never hesitate to come to me again, do you understand? Father would turn in his grave if he knew that you hadn’t asked for my help when you needed it.’

‘I promise,’ she replied happily.

This would be the best Christmas ever. They walked with their arms around each other towards the house and Ruth told him all about Samuel Kahan, how they had met when she cooked for his parents one weekend the previous spring. The wife of a handsome Jewish doctor, their parents would have been so proud.

As they passed the drawing room window they both stopped suddenly at the astonishing sight within. Mrs Megalith was holding an animated conversation all on her very own. She was laughing, gesticulating, frowning her disapproval and flirting as if talking to someone she greatly admired. ‘My darling Denzil, there are plenty of bottles left in your cellar,’ she said with a coy smile. ‘Remember that 1928 Krug? Ah, what an occasion that was.’ Then she leaned back in the armchair and laughed a deep-throated laugh in response to something Denzil must have said. She tilted her head to one side and sighed wistfully, without taking her eyes off what must have been the spirit of her dead husband. Ruth looked at Max and giggled.

‘Come on,’ he said leading her away. ‘I think we should creep in through the back door, don’t you?’

Chapter 31

The following morning Max awoke with an intense feeling of optimism and excitement. By the time the sun set Rita might have agreed to marry him. He didn’t allow his nervousness to ruin so perfect a dawn, or consider that she might refuse him. He bathed and dressed and joined Mrs Megalith and Ruth in the kitchen for breakfast, which Ruth was cooking on the Aga, her cheeks flushed with happiness. Her cheerfulness was infectious and soon the three of them were laughing and joking over poached eggs, toast and tomatoes. Only Max knew why Ruth ate enough for the entire household and why she quietly kept raiding a plate of olives.

When Max saw Rita he was struck immediately by the change in her countenance. She looked as radiant as when he had first fallen in love with her. Her cheeks were as rosy as Elvestree plums, her eyes as gold and shimmering as Mrs Megalith’s sherry. She smiled at him – a wide, carefree smile – and he felt his stomach lurch as it did when he drove his car too fast over the bridge just outside Frognal Point. She embraced him affectionately and he breathed in the familiar scent of violets that always clung to her skin.

‘You look so well,’ he said, looking her over appraisingly.

‘Thank you.’

‘Will you come for a walk with me after lunch? I want to catch up with you properly. I feel I haven’t spoken to you in ages.’

‘Of course. Just like old times,’ she said brightly. ‘We can take Tarka. I had to leave her in the car because she hates Megagran’s cats.’

‘I should imagine the feeling’s mutual.’

‘You look well too, Max,’ she remarked, noticing how his eyes shone a bright cornflower blue.

‘I have so much to tell you, Rita. I wish we were alone,’ he said, looking at her steadily.

‘Later,’ she whispered, crinkling up her nose. ‘I have lots to tell you too.’ And they smiled at each other as old friends do.

Maddie and Harry helped themselves to drinks while Freddie, Daisy and Elsbeth ran over to the tree which stood in the corner of the room decorated with old-fashioned glass balls, red and gold ribbon, and velvet figurines that were much older than Mrs Megalith herself. Beneath the tree were strewn piles of brightly wrapped presents which each family had brought. The children immediately began to hunt around for their gifts until Rita told them to wait patiently until their great-grandmother decided to hand them out. Aunt Antoinette and David arrived with Harrods bags full of extravagant parcels which had all been wrapped in the same red paper by the shop assistant. William followed with his snooty, glamorous wife and young children, and Emily with her dull solicitor husband and screaming baby. Antoinette told her daughter to take the baby upstairs. In her opinion small children should be rarely seen and never heard. David was pleased to find Humphrey with Hannah in the hall, draping their coats on top of the cats on the sofa. He took his friend into the small sitting room, away from the chaos of the drawing room, to discuss Macmillan’s government over a large cigar and a glass of Bell’s whisky.

Hannah kissed her grandchildren, handing Elsbeth a bunch of feathers she had gathered from the garden to add to the child’s growing collection. Like her parents Elsbeth adored birds and knew all the regional ones by name. Hannah suddenly thought of Eddie far away in Africa and her heart was pinched with sorrow. She would have loved her to be there, celebrating Christmas with the family. Of all her daughters Eddie had been the most special to her and now she was gone. If only she had managed to work that broomstick then she could have flown back just for the day. She sat next to her sister on the fender but didn’t voice her regret to Antoinette. Instead Hannah listened to her sister praising her daughter-in-law who she obviously regarded as a pretty reflection of herself. ‘William has always had good taste in women,’ she declared with misguided pride. ‘I set him a rather high standard. I thought he’d never be satisfied, but in Caroline he’s found not only good looks and class but intelligence too. I’ve always said a woman ensnares a man with her beauty but keeps him with her mind. She’s a very bright girl.’
She’s also glum and unpleasant
, Hannah thought to herself. She had never seen a more dissatisfied face in all her life. On reflection Antoinette never really smiled either; she just pinched her lips together, screwed up her face as if she was in pain, and simpered in an artificial way. She noticed that her sister’s hair was bigger and redder than was natural and her lips a harsh scarlet that did not become her face. She was too old to wear such vibrant colours.

Mrs Megalith sat regally in her armchair surveying the room with disdain. The children were too noisy and spoilt. Antoinette smoked far too much and looked utterly ridiculous modelling herself on the fashion magazines she so slavishly followed. Hannah was covered in feathers from the new dovecote Humphrey had installed for her to compensate for Eddie’s absence, and William and his monosyllabic wife made no effort to join in but stood against the wall drinking all her champagne and looking down at everyone from the dizzy heights of their egos. Maddie hung onto every word her ludicrous aunt said while Harry watched her with eyes that dripped with love, quite absurd still to be so infatuated with one’s wife at his age. Rita was full of joy, which was a blessing, but no doubt Antoinette would burst her bubble by the end of the day and send her into a rapid decline. Ruth worked away in the kitchen listening to the wireless; Mrs Megalith gave her little thought. At least she could trust that the food would be good. At her age, food was one of life’s greatest pleasures.

However, her face softened when her old eyes settled on Max. She watched him with ill-concealed adoration. She turned to Emily who had put the baby to bed upstairs but was too anxious to concentrate on anything other than the faint sound of his crying, and said, ‘Now there’s a fine example of a man with the best of everything. Why didn’t you marry someone like Max?’

Emily still took offence in spite of having grown up with her grandmother’s often tactless comments. ‘Because there’s only one Max, Grandma, and he wouldn’t have me,’ she replied.