No Wind of Blame Page 7

  The Prince, who considered that Connie Bawtry had held the stage for long enough, said that for himself he preferred ethics to religious creeds, and added that the narrow-mindedness of the Church had done much to bring Bolshevism into power. No one showed the smallest desire to argue the point, and Tom Bawtry, seizing the opportunity thus afforded of starting a less objectionable topic, leaned across Mary to ask the Prince whether he had been mixed up in the Russian Revolution. The Prince smiled somewhat cynically, and replied: ‘Merely, I lost my all.’

  Any sympathy that might have been expressed was nipped in the bud by Mrs Bawtry, who said that worldly possessions were only dross, and that she knew many people who had given up their all to the Group Movement. Naturally, the Prince was not going to stand this kind of thing, and he said, with just as firm a smile as hers, that making voluntary sacrifices was very different from being stripped bare of your every possession, and cast into prison into the bargain.

  This was quite unanswerable, and had the effect of making the Prince at once the centre of attraction. Ermyntrude begged him, in a proprietary tone, to tell the rest of her guests about his dreadful experiences, and he at once began to do so, in a whimsical way which even Connie Bawtry thought very touching, and which made every man present feel a little unwell.

  Hugh, who had the advantage of being acquainted with several distinguished Russians, had written the Prince down as spurious within twenty minutes of first setting eyes on him, and could not now resist the temptation of asking him one or two rather awkward questions. The Prince, however, proved to be most adroit in sliding out of uncomfortable corners, and had no difficulty in holding the interest of the female half of his audience. Tom Bawtry, too, who never expected any foreigner to be anything but grotesque, was considerably impressed, and exclaimed at intervals: ‘By Jove!’ and: ‘Extraordinary fellers those Bolshies must be!’

  The thought of the Prince’s immeasurable losses had always the power to bring a little spring of tears to Ermyntrude’s eyes, but Connie Bawtry’s sympathy found a more practical expression. At the earliest opportunity, she told the Prince that if he would only put himself under God-control he would find that all his troubles would vanish. In proof of this statement, she cited the case of a certain business man, who (she said) was actually losing money when he got Changed. ‘But now,’ she said, ‘he’s absolutely God-controlled, and his whole business has taken a turn for the better, and he’s actually doing very well indeed.’

  Only two of her hearers appeared to be gratified by this uplifting reflection. Hugh said: ‘Connie, I love you dearly; in fact, I regard you almost in the light of an aunt, but you do utter the most repellent remarks.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Wally facetiously. ‘It sounds pretty good to me. You’d better try it, Prince.’

  ‘Why, it’s like a miracle, isn’t it?’ said Ermyntrude, looking round with a beaming smile. ‘Fancy!’

  For an almost imperceptible moment Hugh’s eyes met Mary’s across the table. Vicky’s voice, holding an imperious note, recalled his attention. ‘Crack these for me, please.’

  He took the walnuts from her, and stretched out his hand for the nut-crackers. She said rather belligerently: ‘I suppose you don’t believe in miracles?’

  ‘Not that kind of miracle. Do you?’

  ‘Oh, I think it’s lovely!’

  He peeled one of the nuts, and gave it back to her. Feeling her last remark to be quite unworthy of being replied to, he said nothing.

  Vicky put her elbows on the table, and began to nibble the nut. ‘Lawyers never believe anything. You are a lawyer, aren’t you?’

  ‘Barrister.’

  ‘Oh well, it’s just the same. Fusty.’

  He glanced down at her. ‘Thanks a lot! Where did you learn your pretty manners?’

  A sudden gurgle escaped her. ‘Absolute truth!’

  He smiled, but said softly: ‘Careful! What makes you think barristers are fusty?’

  ‘Oh, they all are!’

  ‘Of course, you know so many.’ He saw her hunch one bare shoulder, and added: ‘Come off it, Vicky! You’re forgetting that I knew you when you were a skinny brat with a band round your teeth. It won’t wash.’

  ‘I must have been rather sweet,’ she said reflectively.

  ‘You weren’t. You were a little pest.’

  ‘I think it’s so remembering and marvellous of you to know what I was like,’ she said. ‘I thought you were most frightfully grown-up and dull. In fact, I was rather hazy about you till I saw you tonight, and then, of course, it all came back to me. You haven’t altered a bit.’

  ‘You know, you have a real talent for small-talk,’ said Hugh. ‘Sorry I can’t return your compliment!’

  ‘Sorry?’ repeated Vicky, raising a pair of startled eyes to his face. ‘But don’t you think I’m much, much prettier now? Everyone else does!’

  ‘You wouldn’t be so bad if you hadn’t plastered so much make-up on your face,’ he replied coolly.

  ‘Ah, yes!’ she said, recovering her balance in a flash. ‘I thought you were rather the sort of man who’d prefer a violet by a mossy stone. Probably I shall be putting on that act one day.’

  He regarded her from under brows lifted in faint surprise. ‘Is your incredible life a series of “acts”?’ he inquired.

  ‘Yes. Didn’t you know?’

  ‘I couldn’t believe it. Don’t you find it a pretty rotten way of living?’

  ‘How silly! Of course not!’ she said scornfully. ‘Life seems to me a most frightfully overrated business, and practically always dull, if you stay the same person every day. On the other hand, you can’t be dull if you’re always somebody else.’

  ‘Adventures in the spirit?’

  Ermyntrude had risen to her feet. Vicky got up, remarking in a more friendly tone: ‘I still think you’re fusty, but not so fusty.’

  In the drawing-room, Mrs Bawtry became guided to explain the Group Movement to Mary. Lady Dering seized the opportunity to seat herself beside her hostess, and, presently, to broach the subject of the proposed new hospital. Vicky powdered her nose, and deepened the scarlet of her lips, until her appearance was fairly certain to shock sober-minded persons.

  Ermyntrude had had two card-tables set out, and had spent the greater part of the afternoon trying to arrange two Bridge fours. As she had once, at a Charity Bridge Afternoon, played with Connie Bawtry, who became very fierce over the game, and argued about the play of every hand, her task soon grew into an insoluble puzzle, for nothing, she had decided, would induce her to play at Connie’s table, or with Sir William, of whom she stood in considerable awe; while it was clearly unthinkable that she should not have the Prince at her table, or should fail to separate husbands and wives.

  However, when the men presently came into the drawing-room, it soon became apparent that the second table would have to be abandoned, for Hugh said firmly that he only took a hand if he was forced to do so, and Vicky developed a fit of contrariness., and said she hated Bridge. Ermyntrude was forced to fall back on Mary, an indifferent player, and on Wally, who had an unsuitable habit of cutting jokes all the time. But while she was trying to compose the two tables, the butler came into the room, and spoke in a disapproving undertone to Wally.

  Ermyntrude was feeling flustered, and unfortunately demanded of Peake what was wanted. Peake, who despised both his employers, said primly, but not without a certain satisfaction: ‘A person of the name of Baker wishes to see Mr Carter, madam.’ He added fiendishly: ‘Upon urgent business.’

  Ermyntrude turned white, and then red. Wally looked as discomfited as anyone of his temperament could, and said that it was all right, and he would come. Ermyntrude was so much upset by this contretemps that she lost any grip over the Bridge-question that she may ever have had, and weakly jettisoned the second table. Finally, th
e Derings and the Bawtrys sat down to play, on the understanding that Ermyntrude and the Prince would cut in after the first rubber.

  That the butler’s announcement had been most unwelcome to Ermyntrude was apparent to all her guests, but the swift glance that passed between Mary and Vicky was noticed only by Hugh. As her elders moved towards the Bridge-table, fussed over solicitously by Ermyntrude, Vicky slid off the arm of the sofa, where she had perched herself, and strolled sinuously to the door. Mary said sharply: ‘Vicky, where are you going? I was going to suggest billiards – or something.’

  ‘All right,’ said Vicky. ‘I’ll join you.’

  She went out, and Mary, having the liveliest mistrust of her discretion, said hurriedly to Hugh: ‘Do go along to the billiard-room! I’ll be with you in a minute. I must catch Vicky first.’

  Considerably intrigued, Hugh docilely obeyed these instructions, and was discovered presently practising cannons. He straightened himself as Mary came in with Vicky at her heels, and after casting a look at two rather worried faces, said: ‘Is anything the matter? Can I help, or do I pretend to be unconscious?’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing!’ replied Mary unconvincingly. ‘At least, nothing of importance.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s awfully important that no one should be allowed to spoil Ermyntrude’s party,’ said Vicky. ‘You may think it’s lousy anyway, and as a matter of fact it is, but the point is she doesn’t, and I’m perfectly certain she’d hate and loathe a scene.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Vicky, shut up!’ implored Mary.

  ‘Oh, don’t make a stranger of me! Who’s going to create a scene? The person of the name of Baker?’ asked Hugh.

  ‘Well, I’m not at all sure, but I shouldn’t wonder if it seemed a pretty good sort of an act to him, on account of his being a Communist, and probably disapproving of parties,’ said Vicky. She looked measuringly at Hugh, and her eyes brightened. ‘Are you any good at chucking people out?’ she demanded.

  ‘I’ve never tried my hand at it. Do you want Baker chucked out?’

  ‘I may,’ said Vicky cautiously. ‘But not if it would be a noisy business. Of course, I may be doing him a frightful injustice, or on the other hand, Wally may manage to get rid of him.’ A fresh idea presented itself to her. She turned to Mary. ‘I say, do you think he would be useful? On account of being a barrister, I mean?’

  ‘No, certainly not,’ said Mary. ‘Nor do I think we need discuss the matter.’

  ‘Yes, but, darling, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if you turned out to be full of repressions, and inhibitions, and things, and in any case it’s practically bound to be all over Fritton by this time, because things always are.’

  ‘By all of which I deduce that your relative has got himself into some sort of a mess,’ said Hugh, addressing himself to Mary. ‘I shouldn’t think I could be of any use, could I?’

  ‘No, none at all, thank you,’ said Mary. ‘It’s purely a family matter.’

  ‘Oh, I thought you didn’t want him to know!’ exclaimed Vicky innocently.

  Hugh looked quickly at Mary’s indignant face, and said: ‘Good Lord, you don’t mean it? I don’t believe it!’

  ‘No, nor did we at first,’ agreed Vicky. ‘But I’m rather coming round to it, because I had a long talk with Percy this afternoon, and he utterly believes it. It’s a sickening nuisance, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is Percy the person named Baker?’ asked Hugh. ‘Who and what is he?’

  ‘He works in a garage. He’s Gladys’s brother,’ explained Vicky.

  ‘And is Gladys the lady involved?’

  ‘Yes, of course. She’s the box-office girl at the Regal. I dare say you know her.’

  ‘Good God! But how do you two come into it? You know, really this is a bit thick! You’ve no business to be mixed up in it, either of you.’

  ‘We aren’t mixed up in it,’ said Mary, in an annoyed voice. ‘At least, we shouldn’t be if Vicky hadn’t taken it upon herself to interview the man when he came here this afternoon.’

  Hugh looked Vicky over critically. ‘Oh! Nice little handful, aren’t you? If you take my advice, you’ll keep your nose out of it.’

  ‘Yes, but I shouldn’t think I would,’ replied Vicky. ‘I’ve been very modern and advanced all day, and I quite feel I may have done a lot of good, talking to Percy.’

  ‘You’re more likely to have made things much worse,’ said Hugh unflatteringly. ‘Leave your stepfather to settle his affairs for himself. He’s probably quite capable of doing it without your assistance.’

  ‘Oh dear, you do seem to me to be most frightfully fragrant and old-world!’ said Vicky. ‘Besides practically dumb. Poor darling Wally never settles things, and the more I think about it the more I’m definitely against Ermyntrude having to pay up.’

  ‘You can’t do any good,’ persisted Hugh. ‘You’d merely make a nuisance of yourself.’

  Vicky’s eyes glinted at him. ‘Well, I think you’re wrong. I often get very brilliant ideas, and I quite think I will over this, because I don’t want Ermyntrude to have to put up with a scandal she doesn’t like.’

  With that she tossed the stump of her cigarette into the fireplace, and walked out of the room.

  Hugh turned to Mary. ‘But she’s incredible!’ he complained. ‘She just isn’t possible.’

  ‘I warned you,’ said Mary. ‘I can’t cope with her at all. I wish I could, because she’s quite capable of doing something outrageous.’

  ‘Little beast!’ said Hugh wholeheartedly. ‘Between friends, Mary, is this Baker fellow likely to make trouble?’

  ‘I don’t know, but if what Vicky told me was true I should think quite possibly. Oh dear, what a household we are!’

  ‘Poor Mary! It’s rotten for you.’

  ‘It’s worse for Aunt Ermy. I oughtn’t to be talking about it, but just lately things seem to have got dreadfully tense. Ever since that ghastly Prince arrived it’s been most uncomfortable – rather as though we were on the brink of something disastrous.’

  ‘Do you mean that he’s had something to do with it?’

  ‘No, not really. Don’t let’s talk about it! I hope to Heaven Vicky hasn’t gone to barge in on Uncle and Percy Baker. That would just about tear things wide open.’

  ‘Vicky,’ said Hugh, ‘wants suppressing.’

  ‘You’re telling me! I say, what on earth shall we do if Baker does start a row?’

  ‘I haven’t thought out the answer to that one,’ Hugh confessed. ‘What you might call a delicate situation.’

  Happily, no sounds of strife in the library came to disturb the absorption of the Bridge-players in the drawing-room. Wally returned presently, not, apparently, much disturbed by his interview with Mr Baker, and was easily persuaded to cut into the game. He was mendaciously assuring his partner, Connie Bawtry, that he was conversant with the rules governing the Four-Five-No-Trump convention, when the butler made his second entrance, and informed him that Mr White wished to speak with him on the telephone.

  This was too much for Ermyntrude. Before Wally had time to reply, she told Peake to inform Mr White that his master was engaged, and could not come to the telephone.

  Bridge came to an end at eleven o’clock, and after everyone had added up his or her score, the errors had been traced to their sources, and a result arrived at which satisfied everyone, it was half an hour later, and the Derings’ car had been announced quite twenty minutes earlier.

  The initial strain of entertaining guests of whom she stood in awe, coupled with the alarming announcement of Mr Baker’s arrival, and capped by Harold White’s ill-timed telephone call, had proved to be too much for Ermyntrude. She felt quite unequal to the task (clearly incumbent on her) of demanding an explanation of his conduct from Wally, and after bidding the Prince good night in a failing voice, she went upstairs
to bed, leaning heavily on the banisters.

  The Prince did not long outstay her. He refilled his glass once, but as Wally, who had been replenishing his throughout the evening, showed an inclination to indulge in long, rambling reminiscences, he soon excused himself, and withdrew.

  If Wally had hoped to have escaped questioning that night, he had reckoned without his stepdaughter. That damsel was lying in wait for him, and came out of her bedroom when he passed her door on his way to his own.

  ‘What happened?’ she demanded.

  Wally eyed her uneasily. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You might just as well come clean,’ said Vicky. ‘I know all about Gladys and Percy. In fact, we all know.’

  Wally was pardonably affronted, and animadverted bitterly upon the licence permitted to the young in these unregenerate days. ‘Nosing into my affairs!’ he said. ‘Nice behaviour for a girl just home from school, I must say!’

  ‘Well, you’re wrong. I didn’t do any nosing. Ermyntrude found Percy’s letter in your pocket, and was so upset that she told Mary and me.’

  ‘Which pocket?’ inquired Wally, with a kind of hazy interest.

  ‘Oh, one of your coats! What on earth does it matter?’

  ‘Well, it’s nice to know, because as a matter of fact I couldn’t for the life of me remember where I’d put the thing. However, I thought it would turn up sooner or later. Not that there’s anything in it,’ he added.

  ‘You’re pretty well bound to say that,’ replied Vicky. ‘The point is, we don’t want Ermyntrude to be worried by a rancid scandal.’

  ‘Nothing of the sort!’ said Wally, with a lordly wave of one hand. ‘It’s just a slight mistake, that’s all.’

  ‘But what about Percy?’ insisted Vicky. ‘Is he going to make trouble?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ said Wally. ‘The whole affair was absurd.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Vicky doubtfully. ‘Did you get Percy to see that?’

  ‘Naturally. Just a few minutes plain talk, and I was able to put the whole thing straight.’