A Married Man Part 40

'Why?' Maisie demanded, confused.

'Ben wouldn't inherit,' I said slowly, 'because he's not a Fellowes.'

Maisie blinked. 'What?'

'He's not a Fellowes,' I repeated, dragging my eyes off David's face and turning to her. 'Ned wasn't Archie's son.' 'Not Archie's son! But-'

'He was my son,' said David quietly.

'Your son!'

He nodded. I gazed back. Couldn't take my eyes off him now. I was transfixed. He cleared his throat.

'Rose and I, well we had a long love affair, many years ago, when Archie first started his other life, in London. Ned was the result.'

'So the boys ..

'Are my grandchildren.' His gaze was as steady as mine. Fixed on me. I could hear myself breathing.

'You and Rose!' Maisie gasped.

'Yes, me and Rose.' He hesitated. 'Or Rose as she was in those days. The most beautiful woman imaginable. And I was potty about her, for a long, long time. Because believe it or not, before the bitterness and resentment set in, she wasn't only very lovely, but full of fun and gaiety too, d.a.m.ned good company. The life and soul of any party. I'd known her for years, of course, in that vein, at parties, and later as Archie's wife, but when we became close well all the fun had gone out of her life. The party was over and she was just very, very sad and lonely. She felt betrayed, you see, used. Archie had used her as a breeding machine, effectively. She'd had the son and heir, and then Lavinia, and he wasn't interested any more. He'd moved on. To younger models.'

'Did Archie know?' I whispered. 'About you and Rose?' 'Oh yes.' He looked surprised. 'He asked me once, over cards, straight out. And I told him straight back.'

'Christ! How did he take it?'

'Oh, on the chin. As any chap would. As his due, I think.' He rubbed his cheek reflectively. 'Shook me slightly, though. Seem to remember I lost that hand.' He smiled ruefully, then frowned down into his lap, lost in thought. Looked up. 'And he only ever mentioned it once more, after that. Said to me over port one evening, just the two of us, very late, said, "Glad it was you, David. Saw her going over the edge, eh? Brought her back. Glad you did. Glad it was you. Couldn't face it myself." '

'Oh!' Couldn't face his own wife. 'Too busy with totty in London, I expect,' I said angrily.

David shrugged without rancour, unwilling to censure Archie, his friend, and for the first time, I felt a sneaking sympathy for Rose. An abandoned wife, expected to see abandonment as her lot. And at her age, and in her milieu, whyever not? Expected to tend the garden, chair committees, be content.

'But Pinkie came later?'

'Oh yes, and was his, definitely his. He saw to that. I think even Archie was slightly peeved at being so comprehensively sidelined, so marginalised, so they had another child, and our affair came to an end. Pinkie saved that marriage, undoubtedly, and look how Archie dotes on her now, spoils her. Oh, she's Archie's all right.'

'But he never told Rose he knew about Ned?'

'Lord, no. Chap's got his pride. Can't have all the cats coming out of the bag, running round the county, blabbing. No, people suspected of course, because Ned was so different from the rest, and they knew of our affair, but nothing was said. And Rose thought she had something on him, you see. A trump card up her sleeve. Had no idea he knew.'

I remembered Archie, with tears in his eyes, mumbling by the empty grate, 'Couldn't let her have it, Lucy. Couldn't let Rose have that ...' Couldn't let Ben inherit, that's what he'd meant. Not when Ned wasn't his son. And yet he'd stood by, watched her take us in, pour money into the barn, known what was on her mind ...

'And what about Ned?' asked Maisie, quietly. 'Did he know?'

David looked at me enquiringly.

'No!' I blanched. 'No, I mean, he never said, and G.o.d yes, I'd have known, wouldn't I? He'd have told me. I'm sure he would. And yet well, he always . . I hesitated. Hated was too strong a word. 'He was always so wary of them. Certainly of his mother. And of Archie, too. Distrusted them, almost.'

I remembered our wedding, how adamant he'd been that they wouldn't attend. 'They've screwed up most of my life,' he'd shouted angrily, 'they're not going to screw up this!' And we'd visited them so rarely, in those early days. I'd had to drag him there ... I remembered Rose's letter, too, telling me how Ned had rejected her, in his teens. Been repulsed by her. Had he guessed? I wondered.

'And you never ...?' I glanced quickly at David.

'No, I never said. It wouldn't have been fair, separating him from his family like that. But I hope I always looked out for him'

'He always liked you,' I said truthfully. 'Had a lot of time for you, David. Said so, often.'

Something flooded David's face at this. Love? Relief? His son, whom he'd watched grow up. Whom he must have been itching to acknowledge, all those years. In the early days of our marriage, I remembered him coming to meet us as we arrived at Netherby, an awkward young couple, in an ancient car, with a baby. David, smiling broadly, shaking Ned's hand, quickly pouring us drinks in the library, keeping the conversation going when Rose swept in, frosty and distant. And at the time I'd just thought a kindly friend of the family, and how lucky they were to have him. A bachelor, who'd rather latched on. But it made sense now, didn't it, I thought with a jolt. Why, they even looked alike, David and Ned. Small, wiry, handsome, and it explained why Ned had so little of the Fellowes character, explained instead his brains, his easy, relaxed manner. All David. I looked across the table at him almost gratefully. Pleased for my boys. Mortimers. Not Felloweses. Felt a guilty rush of relief.

A silence ensued as we were each prey to our own private thoughts. As we digested the lies, the l.u.s.t, the love, the deceit and the implacable desire that had unfolded over the years, to end in this.

'So, she told you all this, David?' asked Maisie, eventually.

He nodded. 'Yes. At the end, in the hospital. After Hector and the girls had had time with her, Archie came to find me. Took him a while,' he grimaced, 'I was in the hospital chapel. Said he didn't think she'd got long. That she was asking for me. Asked if I'd like some time with her. I'll never forget the look in his watery old eyes as we stood together in that church; Archie, ramrod straight, face muscles twitching, staring up at the vaulted ceiling'

'Remorseful?' I asked.

He sighed. 'I don't know. No - just very sad, I think. Anyway, I went to her.' He paused, and his hand strayed across the table towards Lucas's pack of cigarettes. I shook them out and he took one quickly, lighting it. As he leaned back in his chair and blew the smoke high in the air in a thin stream, I realised his own eyes were watering too. 'Went to her, and sat with her. Stroked her hair, like I used to ...' He paused, in difficulties now. We all glanced at our hands to give him a moment. He cleared his throat. Went on, calmly. 'And - well, I had wondered about the fire, you see, so I asked if she had anything to tell me. Anything to do with it. She knew she was dying, knew the fight was over - and she was a fighter, that's what I so loved, admired about her - but she knew she was a sitting duck now. So she stretched out her hand, clasped mine, and told me everything.' He gave a wan smile. 'I'm no priest, but I imagine that's what absolution does for you. Gives you some sort of comfort. I hope so. At the end, she asked you to forgive her, Lucy. She asked G.o.d, too. And then she died in my arms.'

I caught my breath, imagining Rose, in a white hospital gown, just another patient, an old lady, dying in her lover's arms. David's grey head bent over her white one, hands clasped, as a deathbed confession unfolded. Rose, asking for redemption. Asking me to forgive her. Really? For trying to take my children? I gulped and stared down at the pattern on the tablecloth. Felt a wave of revulsion. Oh, I don't think so. No, I couldn't do that. Not now, anyway. I'd think about it later, but not when I'd just gone through the most appalling hour of my life.

'But why didn't you tell me all this this morning?' Irounded suddenly on David. 'When I was there, at Netherby, saw the pair of you in the gunroom - why didn't you tell me then! Why didn't you tell the police then? Christ, you could have spared me all of this. I mean, I saw them, roaring up the drive as I was leaving, looking for me, no doubt!'

'Yes, they were,' said Jack impa.s.sively, 'and we knew they were coming. Ten minutes earlier I'd taken a call from the police station, saying they were on their way to interview you. At that stage I didn't have the faintest idea what was going on. David was on the point of telling me, but hadn't, and I got the impression from the police you were in deep trouble. I wanted to give you time, so I simply said I hadn't seen you, which was perfectly true, and why I didn't turn round when you came to the gunroom door.'

'And I wanted to tell Archie and the girls what Rose had done without the police being there,' said David quietly. 'Wanted to get rid of them. Which meant seeing you off the premises, since it was you they were after. They took the bait, but I had no idea they'd find you so quickly. I owe you an apology, Lucy, but I'm afraid I made Archie and the girls my priority. I wanted them to hear what Rose had done, from me, and not some police sergeant.'

I thought of Jack and David, going into the morning room, sitting down in front of them, telling Rose's story.

'And were they horrified?'

'Appalled. Couldn't believe it. The girls particularly. Pinkie was in floods. But then, later, they sort of could . .

I nodded. 'I think we all can sort of believe it, now.' Maisie shook her head, dismayed. Looked down at her hands. There was a silence.

'And do the police know the truth now?' I asked, suddenly fearful again. 'Have you told them?'

'I've let them know I have a statement to make that much has been winging its way down their radio lines, and I'm on my way back to Oxford right now,' he glanced at his watch, 'to do just that. I just wanted to explain to you first, though. In person.'

'Thank you, David,' I said gratefully. 'And I mean, they'll believe you?' I asked anxiously. 'D'you think?'

He smiled. 'Don't worry. There was a ward sister behind the curtain, although Rose didn't know it. They have to be on hand in those sort of circ.u.mstances, when it's so near the end. She'd have heard everything.'

I nodded. Breathed a sigh of relief. After a while, he sighed too.

'I must go,' he said wearily, setting his hands on his knees and making to get up. He looked very old suddenly. Very tired.

'But what I still don't understand,' Maisie stopped him a moment, her fingers on his arm, 'is why Ben said he started the fire?'

We all turned at a noise down the hall. The front door slammed. Footsteps came down the pa.s.sage, then the kitchen door opened. Jack stretched out his hand.

'Let's ask him, shall we?' he said gently. 'Because here he is.'

Chapter Thirty-one.

'Ben?' I got up.

He stood there in the doorway, then came slowly into the room, his dark eyes lowered, glistening. He wouldn't look at me. Down the hall, I saw Lucas quietly shut the front door. Maisie darted her eloquent blue eyes sideways at her husband. He nodded, and quickly ushered Max smartly left into the sitting room with his dripping lolly.

'Ben, darling, this is important' I slipped around the table and crouched down beside him. I noticed he still kept a tight hold of Jack's hand. The other one was in a fist by his side. I held the edge of his T-s.h.i.+rt. 'Ben why did you tell the police you started the fire?'

'Because I did,' he said obstinately, staring at the kitchen floor.

'But that's not true, is it? Granny told David she started it. She lit the fire in the rubbish bin'

'Granny did?' He looked up, startled. 'Why?'

'To frighten us, I think, because I was out, and well, complicated reasons, but not to burn the barn down. It just got out of hand. But Ben-'

'But she said you did it!' he blurted out. 'When she ran up to us through the smoke, along the landing, I screamed, "Granny - the house is on fire!" And she said, "Yes! Yes I know, Mummy left the gas on! The kitchen's caught fire!" '

I caught my breath. My G.o.d, even then, even with the flames licking up the stairs behind her, she'd sought to implicate me. Even in the middle of a burning building, struggling to rescue her grandsons, she'd found time to get her story straight.

'So why did you say you'd done it?'

'Because I thought you'd go to prison!' he cried, eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g. 'I thought they'd think it was such a terrible thing to do, leaving us alone, and with the gas on, that they'd send you to jail, and we wouldn't see you again! So I said it was me, because they don't send children to jail, do they!' He was crying now and his speech coming in bursts, shoulders shaking.

'Oh darling!' I hugged him. His little body was like rock though, shuddering but unyielding, and he didn't collapse on my neck. I took his shoulders and held him at arm's length, knowing there was more, that I had to dig deeper.

'But why were you and Max down there in the first place? Didn't Granny say you were sleeping at the house?'

'No, she didn't,' he gulped, 'and I had an argument with Granny, anyway.'

'Why?'

'Because when you'd gone, she came and found us in the garden. Max and I were down at the pond by the greenhouse. We were lying on our tummies feeding the goldfish and she came up and stood right over us. I rolled over on my back to look at her properly. The sun was in my eyes, but she had afunny look on her face, like she'd won a prize or something. She said, "Well, your mother's really done it this time!" And when I said why, she said that you'd gone out with your boyfriend.' He spat the word out bitterly. 'And that you were staying the night with him, too. So I got up and said that wasn't true, and she was lying, 'cos you didn't have a boyfriend and she said yes it was, and I said, "Well anyway, Mummy said Trisha's coming down to babysit so we're not staying here with you, we're going home!" ' He caught his breath. 'And I ran off!'

'He was crying,' said a little voice behind us. Max had escaped Lucas's clutches and crept in for some drama. 'I see,' I breathed. 'And she didn't come after you?'

'No, no one came. We just went to bed. It felt really odd.' 'Have you got a boyfriend?' asked Max.

I turned to look at him. Shook my head. 'No. No, I haven't. But,' I saw Ben glance up, 'I was going to meet someone that night. That's quite true. But - it didn't work out. He wouldn't have been right' I struggled. 'For any of us,' I whispered.

I was aware of Jack's eyes on me whilst David and Maisie tactfully contemplated the tablecloth.

'You can have boyfriends,' went on Max generously. 'We don't mind, do we, Ben? But we'd like to know, wouldn't we?' He looked at his brother.

Ben nodded, scuffed his toe. 'I think the truth's important,' he muttered.

I took a deep breath. Regarded my own shoes.

'And also,' piped up Max, 'we'd like to be there when you do it. So no door locking or anything, 'cos we're still not sure-'

'I am,' snarled Ben.

'No, you're not. You said-'

'Thank you, Max,' I broke in wearily, straightening up. 'That will do.'

I gazed down at Ben. A silence ensued.

'Well,' said Maisie, breaking it briskly. She got up and made for a cupboard, squeezing my shoulder tightly as she slipped past me. 'I think what we all need now is a very large drink. With plenty of gin. I certainly do, and then some lunch. Lucas and I had planned to make pizzas from scratch, so if you boys want to help throw dough around the kitchen and stick it to the ceiling, you'd better come out to the pantry with me to choose your toppings.' She opened a side door and disappeared.

'I'll come!' Max was off like a rabbit.

Ben followed, but at a slower pace. He stopped at the door. Turned. 'Sorry, Mum.'

'For what?' I swallowed. 'Trying to keep me out of prison?' He shrugged. 'Doubting you, I suppose. Like Thomas.'

'In the Bible.'

'Ah.' I nodded as he left the room. David and Jack were silent.

'You know,' I said, furiously blinking back tears, 'I always imagined my eldest son might be the one helping me into my zimmer frame at the Twilight Home, bringing me grapes and turning up my hearing aid. I just didn't expect our roles to reverse quite so quickly.'

David smiled kindly. 'He's had to grow up fast, Lucy. That's not your fault.'

'Some of it must be,' I muttered. I sat down, rested myelbows on the table, covered my eyes with my hands. 'Oh G.o.d, the relief, though. The relief!' I parted my fingers and gazed through them, wide-eyed. 'I can't tell you. I feel as if a colossal, freezing cold weight has been lifted from my heart. And I can't thank you enough, David,' I turned to him, 'I really can't. Thank G.o.d you talked to Rose, got her to spill the beans! G.o.d knows where I'd be if you hadn't done that.'

He shrugged. 'I think the police might have got to the bottom of it one way or another, but you're right. It is a relief.' He stood up with a great sigh. 'And now, I really must go. Reveal all.' He clicked his heels, military style. 'I'm away. But Lucy,' he paused at the kitchen door, 'I know you think she was a wicked old woman and she got what she deserved, but if you can understand the sort of life she led with Archie...'

I followed him silently down the hall, opened the front door for him. I regarded him on the step as he turned to look at me, anxious-eyed, dapper in his tweed suit and yellow tie, turning his Panama with its brigade band in his hands. I didn't want to hurt him.

'I think that you must have loved her very much, David,' I said quietly.

He looked down at his s.h.i.+ny brown brogues. Nodded. 'Yes. Yes, I did. Never stopped. And blindly, perhaps, but that's how it is, isn't it?' He glanced up ruefully. 'And mostly from afar, too, of course. Certainly when the marriage resumed, and therefore with my hands tied. So much of what I saw, I couldn't interfere in. I just tried to keep an eye on her, tried to be there for her. In the end well, she was too much for me. She got away from me, from my vigilance. My influence. Had I known the way her mind was going well, it goes without saying. You know I would have stopped her.'

'Of course.' I looked into his kind, sad, grey eyes. 'And David, you know, there may come a time when I'll want the boys to know. Not yet, because I think it would all be too much, they've gone through enough, but one day, when they're older, I'll tell them the whole story. As Ben says, I think the truth's important.'

He smiled and his eyes brightened for the first time that day. 'I'd like that,' he said softly.

I realised with a jolt how he must be feeling. With Rose, dead. The only one who'd truly loved her. And who mourned her the most, probably, but in silence. As he must have mourned Ned. He glanced down the hall to where they were already making pizzas in a cloud of flour.