I bit my lip.
‘I think she looks tremendous,’ said Buster giving me a warm look. ‘In the pink, I might say,’ he laughed heartily.
The room was filling up. Buster and Calen were joined by some ancient general, and they were soon busy recounting to each other the number of creatures they had slaughtered in the last week.
‘Grouses, and twelve bores, and twenty bores, and million bores, that’s all men can think about up here,’ said Coco. She began talking to me about shoes.
There was a sudden stir and a whisper ran through the room. The old general straightened his tie and smoothed his moustache.
‘What a beautiful girl,’ he said.
A swift flush mounted to Rory’s pale cheeks. With a sinking heart, without turning my head, I knew it must be Marina.
‘Hello, everyone,’ she said, coming over and kissing Coco, ‘how’s your poor leg, darling?’
She was wearing a pale grey chiffon dress, smothered in two huge pale grey feather boas. With her flaming red hair it made one think of beech woods in autumn against a cloudy sky. I noticed she had no truck with Hamish’s tartan across her bosom. I supposed it was Rory’s tartan she was after. Sadly I realized that if I spent a million years on my face and clothes, I would never be as beautiful as Marina. Hamish, all done up in black velvet and frills, looked awful.
‘Mutton dressed as cutlet,’ said Rory to Marina under his breath. Even worse was to come. Following her into the room came Finn Maclean in a dinner jacket, with a sleek brunette.
‘Oh God,’ said Rory, ‘here comes the virgin surgeon. Diney,’ he added, turning to the daughter of the house, ‘what the hell is Doctor Finlay doing here?’
‘He was absolutely wonderful about Mummy’s ulcer,’ said Diney, her eyes shining.
‘Probably gave it to her in the first place,’ said Rory.
‘Well, I must say, I think he’s rather super myself,’ said Diney.
‘I’m surprised at you,’ said Rory, ‘one really shouldn’t know one’s doctor socially.’
Finn came up to Coco.
‘How’s it feeling?’ he said.
‘Much better,’ said Coco.
‘May be, but there must be no dancing on it,’ he said firmly.
‘Who’s that with him?’ I whispered to Calen Macdonald.
‘I think she’s one of his nurses,’ said Calen.
‘She’s pretty,’ I said.
‘Not my type,’ said Calen, and started whispering sweet everythings into my ear. I, however, was much more interested in seeing how Rory and Finn reacted to each other.
‘Look, Rory,’ said Coco, ‘here’s Finn.’
Rory, just lighting a cigarette, paused, eyeing Finn without any friendliness.
Finn nodded coldly, ‘Hello, Rory,’ he said.
‘Good evening, Doctor,’ said Rory — he smiled but his eyes were cold, his face as pale as marble. There was an awkward pause.
‘Isn’t it nice Finn’s back for good,’ said Coco brightly to the assembled company.
‘Not for my good, he isn’t,’ said Rory.
‘This is Frances,’ said Finn, ignoring him and introducing the sleek brunette. ‘She works at the hospital.’
‘Oh, a staff outing,’ drawled Rory, ‘what fun. Did you come here by charabanc with a crate of beer, or is it part of the S.R.N. syllabus — a dazzling night of dancing and passion in the arms of Doctor Maclean?’
‘Only for very privileged nurses,’ said Frances, smiling at Finn.
‘I’m surprised you’ve been able to drag him away from delivering babies and darning up appendices,’ said Rory.
Frances was obviously uncertain how to take Rory.
‘Dr Maclean certainly doesn’t allow himself enough free time,’ she said warmly.
‘Quite so,’ said Rory, his eyes lighting up with malicious amusement. ‘He’s an example to us all. I gather that’s the reason your marriage came unstuck, Finn. I heard your ex-wife couldn’t cope with the short hours, or wasn’t your double bedside manner up to scratch? However,’ he smiled at Frances, ‘you seem to be consoling yourself very nicely.’
I turned away in embarrassment; if only he wouldn’t be so poisonous. Rory grabbed my arm.
‘You haven’t met Emily, have you, Finn?’
‘Yes he has,’ I said quickly.
‘Oh?’ Rory raised an eyebrow.
‘We met at Coco’s one day,’ I said, ‘when Finn came to see her about her ankle.’ Rory held out his glass to a passing waiter to fill up.
‘Are you still trying to paint?’ Finn said.
‘He’s got an exhibition in London in April,’ I said hotly.
‘Doesn’t really need one,’ said Finn. ‘He’s been making an exhibition of himself for years,’ and taking Frances by the arm, crossed the room to talk to his host.
‘Scintillating as ever,’ said Rory, but his hand shook as he lit one cigarette from another.
‘Do you like dancing reels, Emily?’ said Marina.
‘If I have enough to drink,’ I said, draining my glass, ‘I reel automatically.’
We went in to dinner.
The leathery, sneering faces of ancestors looked down from the walls. The candlelight flickered on the gleaming panelling, the suits of armour, the long polished table with its shining silver and glasses, and on the pearly white shoulders of Marina.
‘I hope there’s a huge flower arrangement in front of me so I don’t have to sit staring at Doctor Maclean,’ said Rory.
I was horrified to see that he and Marina were sitting next to each other on the opposite side of the table. I was next to Calen, who ran his fingers all over my bare back when he pushed my chair in. And now the bad news. On my other side was six feet four inches of Titian-haired disapproval — Finn Maclean.
‘Hello, Finn,’ said Calen, ‘how are things, have you met this steaming girl?’
‘Doctor Maclean isn’t one of my fans,’ I said.
‘Maybe not,’ said Calen, ‘but he’s tall enough to see right down your front, unless I rearrange that sash. That’s better, don’t want to give you blood pressure, do we Finn? Always get swollen heads, these quacks, think all the nurses and women patients are nuts about them.’
I laughed, Finn didn’t.
‘It must be exciting, running your own hospital,’ I said to him. He was about to answer when someone shoved a steaming great soup ladle between us. ‘Great fun running your own hospital,’ I went on. Then it was his turn to help himself to soup.
‘What’s the disease people suffer most often from round here?’ I asked.
‘Verbal diarrhoea,’ muttered Calen.
I was just warming to my subject, asking Finn all the right questions about the hospital and the operations he would perform there, when Calen lifted up the curtain of hair hanging over my left ear and whispered: ‘Christ, I want to take you to bed.’
I started to laugh in mid-sentence, then blushed:
‘I’m awfully sorry,’ I said to Finn, ‘it’s just something Calen said.’
Finn obviously thought we were too silly for words and turned his huge back on me and started talking to the girl on his right.
Footmen moved round the table, the clatter of plates mingled with the clink of knives and glasses and the hum of various animated conversations. Lady Downleesh sat at the end of the table, a large imposing woman who must once have been handsome. Only Marina and Rory sat mutely side by side, talking little, eating less. They appeared to see and hear nothing of what was going on around them. Suddenly I felt panicky. They were probably playing footy-footy. I imagined their cloven hoofs entwined. Calen and Finn were temporarily occupied with other
