Gently with passion, p.6
Gently with Passion, page 6
‘We all know Mr Simon, don’t we? One of the lads, he is! And I like his taste too, I didn’t quarrel with it last time. Of course, I know my place, missus. I’m the bloke that does the garden. But I’m around, don’t you worry. And I never breathe a word.’
With the leer that accompanied the words his meaning was now plain enough, and Stella started back from him in angry revulsion. She was shocked. Surely she didn’t look like a woman of that sort? Her hand itched, and she barely refrained from striking him across the face.
‘Get off these premises!’
His leer vanished. ‘Now missus, don’t get upshus—’
‘Get off these premises, do you hear?’
‘I’ll go when I’m fit.’
‘You’ll go now, or I’ll ring the police.’
‘I’ll go when I’m fit, not when you order me!’
There was a battle of eyes between them but finally Stella’s anger won it. He shuffled, he dragged on his cap, but in the end he dropped his gaze.
‘But don’t you go thinking—’
‘That’s enough. Get out of here.’
‘You’re making a big mistake, missus.’
‘Just get out. And don’t dare come back.’
He went, though not without several meaningful and insolent glances. She felt hot and was quivering with the intensity of her anger. The foul beast, to come making such overtures to her – so familiar and insinuating! She couldn’t get over the insult of it. And Simon: it was Simon who had let her in for this scene. In a moment of angry insight she understood the whole business. He had bought the cottage for one of his women – that accounted for the expense of it – he had lodged a real floozie in it, one he was ashamed to have up at the house. And Stella, the innocent, had inherited the woman’s reputation. All over the village, very probably, she was being regarded as a tart. In a seething rage she went indoors and snatched up the phone – she was going to let Simon know just what she thought about it.
‘Stella darling, is it?’ Dawn’s sugary tones greeted her.
‘I want to have a word with Simon.’
‘That’s a pity, darling. He’s out.’
‘Where’s he gone?’
‘I wouldn’t know, darling. They went off in the launch. I’m the only one who stopped. Oh, and Keith. But he’s disappeared.’
‘That was thoughtless of him, darling.’
Stella hung up with a bang. And swore.
ELEVEN
AS WAS USUAL with Stella’s rages this one quickly blew itself out, so that before long she was grinning at what had just happened. She had a lively sense of the ridiculous both in herself and in others and she could rarely sustain a feeling of being injured for long. She was tickled now to imagine her would-be gardener’s disappointment. The silly idiot had been so confident that he would be welcomed with open arms. She remembered his incredulity, his note of rightful indignation: it was too absurd. She wondered if the fellow wasn’t perhaps weak-minded. But she was somewhat less inclined to be charitable towards Simon. This was the second time she had caught him out in a deception towards herself. He might have warned her about the cottage, that was the least he should have done; she didn’t think it would have put her off, but she would have been more on her guard with the locals.
Some resentment remained, and she stuck to her resolve to have the matter out with Simon. He would most likely be back for tea and she had a standing invitation, so she locked the door of the cottage and set off for Lazy Waters. When she arrived Dawn was still the only person there. She was lying decoratively sunbathing on a towel spread on the lawn. The two parts of a bikini lay beside her and also a large box of chocolates; she peered up at Stella through outsize sunglasses, then gestured towards the chocolates.
‘Darling, I’ve been so bored today.’
Stella sighed to herself but took a seat in a deckchair. In a moment of irritation she thought that Dawn looked almost obscene: the starlet’s body was completely depilated and she had nipples as broad as crown pieces.
‘Didn’t Keith come back, darling?’
‘No, darling. Have you seen him?’ Dawn raised her sunglasses and her blue eyes sparkled with a touch of animosity. ‘He’s a strange boy, isn’t he? He doesn’t seem to have any interests. Or I didn’t think he had. He’s unbelievably shy.’
‘He’s a poet or something, darling.’
‘Well, I don’t think it’s healthy. He’s too young for it, anyway. Aren’t you a poet, darling?’
Stella shrugged carelessly and reached for a chocolate. Dawn watched her moodily. She fumbled in the box. She chewed chocolates languidly and with an introspective greed. (‘My girl, just you wait. Just you wait till you’re thirty.’)
‘Have you known Simon long, darling?’
‘No, darling. Have you?’
Dawn undulated gently. ‘Yes, darling. He’s nice. I’ve known him almost two years. I think Glynda’s very lucky. I think she’s jealous of you, darling.’
‘She has no reason to be, darling.’
‘No, darling, I’m sure of it. Actually Simon never mentioned you before you turned up here. But she’s jealous of Jill too, and that’s perfectly fantastic. She must know that Jill is les, because it stands out a mile.’
‘Is she jealous of you, darling?’
‘But darling, of course. She was terribly awkward about my coming here. I haven’t the slightest idea why Simon took up with her. She hasn’t any talent. Or none that anyone has noticed.’
‘Perhaps she makes a change, darling.’
Dawn nodded her head seriously. ‘Men can be odd, darling, that’s one thing a girl learns. But Simon is very sweet, he does his best to be nice to her. You’d really be surprised to know the pains he goes to.’
Stella supressed a smile; she thought she had an idea. She felt certain now of why Dawn was laying for Keith. The poor cherub was a sacrifice to keep Glynda docile, and it was Simon who had indicated this prudent diversion.
‘Simon is very sweet.’
Dawn eyed her suspiciously. ‘Of course, you have to know him, darling. Simon is like that to everyone. I was the tiniest bit surprised when I heard you’d got the cottage, but then it’s different, this year. Or is it, I wonder?’
‘It’s different, darling.’
‘Yes, I thought it must be. You’re not the least bit like Vanessa, are you?’
‘I didn’t know Vanessa.’
‘Vanessa was a bitch, darling. He had to keep her tucked away because his father sometimes stays here.’
Dawn reached for a fresh chocolate and sank her teeth in it with relish. Stella couldn’t forbear a glance at the starlet’s smooth stomach. At the moment it was flattish with the barest twirl of a navel, but given a month or so of this treatment Dawn would really be having worries. It was a satisfying thought. Stella lit a cigarette.
‘Have you met Simon’s father, darling?’
‘No.’ Stella exhaled.
‘He’s quite a nice old boy. I didn’t find him a bit alarming. Of course I dressed the part, darling, Simon told me what was expected. Rather drab you know, just a touch of the vicar’s daughter.’
‘You were staying here with him?’
‘Darling, don’t be absurd. Simon took me to supper with him, and Woody, and Jill. It was during the Girl. Simon’s father came to vet it. Simon cued us all in and we put on the act of our tiny lives. Improvisation too, darling. We were really quite something.’
‘And Simon’s father was impressed?’
‘Oh yes. He lapped it up. It was after the row about Vanessa, so it was rather important to Simon.’
‘I hadn’t heard about the row.’
‘No, darling. But there was one. Simon’s father is hung up about sex. He’s got his knife into actresses.’
Stella’s complacency increased as she meditated this tit-bit. It was cheering to know that Simon had his troubles with the lurid Vanessa. She felt a little less sour towards him, he had already received his punishment. It might even be that in letting her the cottage he was making a gesture of contrition. It wasn’t probable, perhaps, but she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
‘Keith is very unlike his uncle, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, he is.’ Dawn was undulating again. She had a suggestive, serpent-like motion that seemed to remember an ecstatic embrace. No doubt she had learned it at RADA or somewhere. ‘Actually, I thought you were getting on rather well with him.’
‘Two poets, darling. We had things to talk about.’
‘Poetry must be a fascinating subject, darling.’
‘It passes the time, darling. It isn’t so dull.’
‘Yes, I could see that.’ Dawn’s action was jerkier. ‘In fact I thought Keith was finding it quite exciting. I thought it was a pity, darling. He’s very young, isn’t he? I’m rather young myself and he isn’t quite as old as me.’
‘Poets are usually young, darling.’
‘Yes, darling. Usually. And he’s rather silly. He doesn’t know what he wants.’
‘It is just conceivable, darling, that you don’t understand him.’
‘Quite, darling. Though I think I may be the proper one to try.’
Dawn flashed her eyes at Stella then let the sunglasses sink over them. She lay still with an expression of delicious repose on her face. She parted her knees very slightly and flexed her none-too-clean toes.
‘Darling,’ she said, ‘I’m so unutterably bored.’
TWELVE
STELLA WENT DOWN to the river where she could sit watching the boats, but she didn’t have long to wait before the launch returned. The launch had a throbbing diesel engine which one could identify at some distance, so that she was aware of its approach before it actually left the Broad. It was an impressive, slipper-sterned vessel built of lustrous red mahogany, with a chromium-plated stemplate and a battery of chromium-plated lamps. From a raked pennant-mast flew Simon’s personal bargee, while over the streamlined stern fluttered a big red ensign. Simon was at the helm himself; he was wearing a red blazer and a yachting cap. He lifted the latter and gave it a wave when he caught sight of Stella. Glynda, who was also wearing a bikini (who was trying to upstage whom?), sat beside him, while the others lounged among cushions in the back. Simon brought the launch to the quay with a prettily calculated manoeuvre, gave a short burst of reverse and touched fenders to the heading.
‘Surprise, my dear.’
His smile was all ready for her. He handed her the bow painter and contrived to press her hand while doing so. His eyes had been anxious but her responding smile cleared them. Glynda watched them bitchily; she had a hand on Simon’s arm.
‘I was wondering if we would have the pleasure of seeing you today.’
‘Thank you, Simon. I felt I would like some company.’
‘Keith mentioned at lunch that he’d met you on the Broad. If I were you I would drop working – there are so many better things to do.’
‘You may he right. Anyway, I’ve stopped working.’
He seemed genuinely pleased that Stella had returned so soon to Lazy Waters, and made a fuss of her that did nothing to placate the sullen Glynda. She stuck by Simon like his shadow, her wide mouth shut tight. It occurred to Stella that the actress might be close to having a part found for her. Woody ambled across to Stella.
‘Should have joined us for the trip, girlo. Sweet parts these are, just one long loaf.’
‘Did you ever need an excuse, Woody?’
His big face grinned down at her. She wondered if it were possible to guess what went on in Woody’s head.
‘Seen any more of the kid, girlo?’
‘Not since this morning. Should I have done?’
‘Thought I saw him in the sailboat in the offing of your spread.’
Stella swore to herself. Damn the lovelorn little idiot! ‘I’m told it’s a good spot for fishing,’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ Woody didn’t look either convinced or unconvinced, he just continued to grin in his outsize way. Stella hesitated for a moment but then decided to let it lie. Woody could think what he liked: who the hell was Woody anyway?
‘You should try fishing yourself. I should have thought it would have suited you.’
‘Too true it would, girlo. But I’d have to dig the bait.’
‘You buy it, Woody.’
‘Then I’d have to hook it on.’
‘You could bribe the gardener.’
‘Break it down! I might happen to catch something.’
Stella wasn’t sure why the incident gave her an unpleasant feeling and she was silent as she accompanied the party up the lawn. She kept repeating to herself: What does it matter? Why should I care? – but could think of no satisfactory answer to either question. It was none of their business if she played around with Keith. If they knew, they would think it nothing out of the ordinary. Yet she didn’t want them to know, she felt a reluctance that she couldn’t account for; she felt annoyed with herself and somehow angry with Keith. She would have to instil some discretion into him if the relationship was to develop.
Keith didn’t come in for tea, and for this Stella was thankful. The meal was taken outdoors on a table under one of the tall willows. Its feathery leaves were ruffled by breeze, admitting sun in little bursts, and from where they sat it was still possible to watch the idle passing of boats. When tea was over, both Glynda and Dawn felt a sudden need for a change of raiment; and Stella seized the opportunity to get Simon on his own.
‘I would like to look at your boats, Simon.’
Simon was on his feet at once. Nobody who wanted to admire his possessions was likely to meet with reluctance from him. He led her across to the boathouse and held the door for her to go through. Inside half a dozen fine craft lay moored along the stagings for her inspection.
‘An evening’s row or a fortnight’s cruise?’
‘Just a chat, if you don’t mind, Simon.’
He raised his eyebrows enquiringly, then pointed to a motor-cruiser.
‘Puma will be the most comfortable. I had her lounge refitted in the spring.’
They went on board and down steps into a cabin furnished with capacious settee-berths. It smelled of fresh varnish and new fabrics and one trod on spongy carpet. Before he sat down, Simon couldn’t help prowling round it and demonstrating its several conveniences.
‘And now, my dear, what can this very serious chat be about?’
Stella looked at him pointedly. ‘It’s about the cottage, that’s what.’
‘The cottage?’ He sounded surprised. ‘But I thought you were settling in so well.’
‘I thought so too. But I find it has a reputation.’
‘Oho.’ Simon placed a comfortable arm around her shoulder; he had a way of doing this that was entirely inoffensive. ‘I didn’t think that would give you any trouble.’
‘I’m not sure I altogether believe you, Simon.’
‘My dear! But truthfully, I thought your character was safe enough.’
‘So did I till this afternoon. But now I’m certain it’s mud in Alderford.’
She told him about Sam Fulcher. Simon heard her out gravely. She wondered if he had known about Vanessa and the gardener, but, if he hadn’t, he gave no sign of surprise. When she had finished he sighed gently.
‘It’s a sordid story, isn’t it?’
‘Well Simon, I don’t propose to set up as judge.’
‘Oh but it is, my dear. I was a damned fool over Vanessa. She was mire for me to roll in – I’m a masochist at times – and roll in it I did. I have the grace to be ashamed.’
‘And the cottage – that was laid on for her?’
‘Something like that, I have to admit. My father comes down here during the summer, and I have to try not to offend him. He belongs to the pre- permissive generation and now I’m his only son, so when he stays here I clear the decks. That was the purpose of the cottage.’
‘But he was bound to find out sooner or later.’
Simon gave her a quick look. ‘My dear, I suspect that you’ve been raking up gossip.’
‘I didn’t need to rake it up. I had only to sit beside Dawn.’
‘Ah yes. Dear Dawn.’
‘You have to allow that I would be interested.’
Simon sighed again and offered her his cigarette-case. They lit cigarettes and blew smoke into the expensive cabin. He had the smallest of frowns on his well-proportioned brow and she had the feeling, as once before, that he was trying to find words for something difficult to say. But in the end he merely shrugged and flicked cigarette ash.
‘Life is a wretchedly complicated business, though in our trade I suppose we should be thankful for that. I’m fond of my father in my own perverse way. He needs handling, that’s all. He has a weakness for high principles.’
‘I heard that you’d had a row, but that you had made it up afterwards.’
‘Ye-es.’ For some reason Simon looked relieved.
‘And now I suppose the cottage has lost the best part of its usefulness.’
He gave her his most charming smile. ‘Not as long as you are my tenant, my dear.’
‘All the same, you might pass it around that I’m not your latest.’
‘I’ll speak to Fulcher, of course.’
‘You can tell him that I’m a nun.’
Stella smoked on more contentedly. She thought she was right in liking Simon. He had his faults, and they were many, but one could depend on his goodwill. He was kindly, and frank. You didn’t have to choose words with him. In a way he was stimulating, and he was always fun to be with.
‘By the way, my dear.’
‘Yes, Simon?’
‘With regard to Dawn. Whether it’s true or not, she thinks you’ve spoiled her pitch with Keith.’
‘Should I worry about that?’
‘Not too terribly you shouldn’t. Only Dawn is a spiteful kitten, so I thought I had better warn you.’
‘She gave me the same impression.’ Stella was surprised by her complacence. With Simon, she found, she could discuss the matter without distress.
