‘Sit on the stones, my dear. Give your legs a rest. The shingle’s cleaner than you think. Now tell me all about Jason’s misadventure. Where were you when you spotted him-on the prom?’
‘Oh. That is-er-yes.’ The conversation was drifting into dangerous straits. ‘May I ask you a question, Mrs. Prothero?’
‘Anything you like, my dear-provided Prothero wouldn’t disapprove.’
Heavens! What did she expect? ‘Do you always favour this part of the beach?’
She laughed for no evident reason. ‘Why yes. It is altogether convenient. Guy likes to bathe from the machines near the pier there, Jason has his Punch and Judy show and I adore watching the excursion-yachts. Ah, Bridget has found Guy-the only useful thing that madam has done today.’ She waved to her stepson. He had come by way of the sand at the water’s edge, for ease of walking. Bridget trotted after him superfluously.
‘A fine-looking lad. There’s an upright look about him,’ said Moscrop, as though he meant it.
‘D’you think so, darling?’ (he fervidly hoped she would drop the endearment when Guy joined them). ‘He is not the easiest boy in the world to manage. It must be beastly for him to have to accept me as his stepmother.’
The cue for a compliment. ‘Quite the contrary, Ma’am. He could not possibly find anyone more acceptable. His difficulty, I suggest, is that you are far too
Guy approached with hand extended. Not before Moscrop had seen Zena Prothero blush. Such timing! He stood to meet the boy with the casual air of Irving after some brilliantly-delivered line on the stage of the Lyceum.
‘Guy Prothero. I understand you saved my stepbrother’s life, sir.’
‘I wouldn’t put it as strongly as that. Simply returned him to his mother.’
‘We’re grateful, even so. Give me your card and I’ll inform my father. He’ll wish to show his appreciation. D’you smoke cigars?’
Damned impudence! ‘That won’t be necessary.’ He addressed himself to Zena: ‘Now that your stepson has returned, I’ll take my leave, Ma’am. If I might just recover the telescope from young Jason. . s›. . !s›. . !s›.’
She had given Guy a thunderous look. ‘You can’t leave like this. I shan’t allow it. You must have dinner with us at the very least. Where are you staying, Mr. Moscrop?’
He touched his bowler in as decisive a parting gesture as he could devise. ‘Most generous of you, Mrs. Prothero, but I really couldn’t put you to so much trouble. Your husband is a busy man-‘ ‘Fudge! If he’s too busy to meet the hero who saved his son’s life, I want to know the reason why!’
Guy said something in an aside to Bridget.
‘What was that?’ demanded Mrs. Prothero.
‘We should leave it to Father to make the arrangements. Do you carry cards, Mr. . ? But perhaps your name is pub- lished in the
‘Guy! Kindly leave this to me! Take Jason down to the water with Bridget and clean his hands and face.’
The boy shrugged, took a long look at Moscrop, felt in his blazer-pocket for his snuff-box, sniffed some gracelessly, continuing to stare, replaced the box, nodded to Bridget (who picked up Jason), turned and walked slowly away, kicking at pebbles as he went.
‘Your telescope, Mr. Moscrop.’ She held it out and as quickly withdrew it. ‘Oh, but it wants cleaning. The liquorice.’
‘Not with your handkerchief, Ma’am. It is far too delicate to soil.’ But she was already at work, diligently rubbing the chromium. She might have been scrubbing his back, it gave him so much pleasure.
‘You understand my problem now,’ she said as she worked. ‘I must apologise for the boy’s behaviour.’
‘Not at all. A difficult age, Ma’am. A difficult age.’
‘Darling, if you only knew how difficult. . This is a beautiful instrument, Mr. Moscrop. You shouldn’t have given it to Jason to play with. Lord, I hope the lenses are not damaged! May I look through it?’
‘But of course.’ He stood against the boat, ready to assist.
‘I shall try to pick out Jason. Is he too near for focusing? My dear, I can’t see anything at all.’
Surely this was an invitation! He knelt beside her as she peered through the eye-piece and put his right hand gently over hers to adjust the focus. ‘Hold the telescope steady, then. As I draw out the tube the image will form and you can make it sharper by small adjustments. Do you see anything yet? I am extending it slowly so that you can tell me.’ And so that she could feel the gentle pressure of his fingers on hers.
‘Oh yes! Don’t move it any more, darling. Perfect!’ she said. ‘I can see Bridget as clear as you like, wretched girl. Ah! There is Jason with his feet in the water. What a powerful instrument, Mr. Moscrop!’ She handed it back to him.
‘It’s built for longer distances, actually. If there were a steam-boat in sight. . I’d better put it away, however. My hobby, you know. Optical instruments. My profession, in fact. I have a shop in Oxford Street.’
‘In London? How exciting! Now I know why you cannot bear to be away for more than three weeks at a time. Darling, you
Moscrop got to his feet, picking up his bag. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, Mrs. Prothero. It’s been a rare pleasure talking with you. One never knows what will happen on a beach, does one? It would be an honour to meet Dr. Prothero, and I’m sure he would make me most welcome, but I feel that this afternoon began on the beach with young Jason-and ought to end there. It was a small thing I did, Ma’am. Isn’t it best in the circumstances not to mention it to the doctor? A thing like that’s sure to discommode a man, somewhat. Might lead to the devil of a scene with your servant. I wouldn’t want that to spoil your holiday. Besides, he might be so worried about Jason’s safety that he stopped you from coming to the beach. Then, forgive me, I shouldn’t have the possibility of passing the time of day with you if I came for a walk along the seashore.’
She smiled. It had been a lengthy explanation. ‘Very well, my dear. You are too persuasive. I shall instruct Guy to say nothing. He likes Bridget, I suspect, and will cooperate. But I shall not forget your kindness.’
CHAPTER 6
There was a disturbance on the surface of the water in Brill’s Gentlemen’s Swimming Bath-the First Class Bath- in East Street. A head bobbed above water-level, fairish hair flattened to it, revealing unmistakable signs of baldness at the crown: Albert Moscrop’s. He trod water for a few seconds, rearranging his moustache. Behind him two other swimmers performed stately breast-strokes across different diameters of the circular pool. It was sixty- five feet across, the largest of its kind in Europe. Visitors cognisant of the health-giving effects of manly exercises patronised Brill’s First Class Bath as devotedly in the season as the philharmonic concerts at the Pavilion.
Inhaling deeply to inflate his lungs, he inclined his head backwards and allowed body and legs to swing from the vertical to the horizontal so that two sets of white toes broke the surface ahead of him. First-rate water for floating: sea- water obtained, as the management were at pains to point out in a notice in the foyer (in view of recent disclosures in
The proper cause of his visit was seated on the tiled perimeter of the pool with feet dangling in the water, testing its temperature and trying to appear casual about it-Gregory Prothero, M.D., in stripes worthy of a Hokey Pokey cart.
Moscrop’s conversation with Mrs. Prothero on the beach the previous afternoon had been a revelation. His first reaction had been one of shock, she was so unlike the personality he had assigned to her when he watched her through the binoculars. He had automatically classed her with the numerous sweet, shy and submissive young women catalogued in his memory from hours of observation of seaside promenades and beaches. Yet there she was, as exquisite as any of them, in a single breath invoking the Deity, castigating a domestic and addressing a
