Fen sat glued against Billy, hand on his thigh, any pretense that they weren’t having an affair abandoned. It was only ten miles to Penscombe now. Once there she would borrow one of Rupert’s trailers and drive Macaulay and Desdemona on to the Mill House, arriving about midnight.
Tracey was fast asleep on one of the bunk beds. Sarah was emptying out the fridge. Billy and Rupert’s horses were beginning to stamp and whinney as they recognized the familiar scents of home.
“Will you do me a great favor?” said Billy, staring fixedly at the road ahead. She could feel how tense he was.
“Of course.”
“Will you stay the night with me at the cottage, then I’ll drive you back in the morning?”
Fen was almost speechless with happiness. Billy needed her, he really needed her. She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I was wondering how on earth I was going to drag myself away from you this evening.”
“I rang Mrs. Bodkin from Lucerne and told her to clean the place up and make the bed. I’m a big boy now. I can’t go on living with Helen and Rupert forever, and anyway,” he looked at his watch, “I haven’t fucked you for at least seven hours. Will you mind a few of Janey’s things lying around?”
“Not if you don’t,” said Fen.
She rang Tory from Rupert’s tackroom. “I’ve got as far as Rupert’s. I’m utterly jiggered. Helen’s asked me to stay the night. Do you mind awfully? Billy, or someone, will drive me back in the morning.”
I’ll be punished for lies like that, she said to herself as she put down the receiver.
It was dusk by the time they’d settled the horses. All that was left of the day was a saffron glow on the horizon. Billy, who knew the path along the edge of the woods, led the way, holding her hand, with Mavis racing in front chasing rabbits. He longed to kiss her, but both were conscious of not having cleaned their teeth since morning. The night was so warm they could smell the honeysuckle and syringa a hundred yards away.
“What an adorable place,” said Fen, in ecstasy. “Gosh, you’re lucky to live here.”
In the gateway Billy put his arms round her, holding her like a balloon that might float away at any moment.
“It’s all right,” she said softly. “I’m here to look after you.”
As he opened the front door, Mavis shot ahead, squeaking with excitement. He turned on the light and went into the kitchen, dumping the cases. Fen followed him. “It looks lovely,” she said.
“Mrs. B.’s been working fantastically hard,” said Billy. “Christ, I wish we could have a drink.”
“I’ll make some coffee,” said Fen, picking up the kettle.
“Are you hungry?”
She shook her head.
“Then let’s go to bed. I need to lay you and the ghost.”
Fen went into the hall. Behind the door opposite, she could hear excited squeaking and scrabbling.
“Mavis must have shut herself in.”
She opened the door and switched on the light, then gave a gasp of horror. In front of the fire, thin, beautiful, and menacing in a black sleeveless T-shirt and the tightest black leather trousers, stood Janey.
“Hello, Fen,” she said with a twisted smile. “It’s been amazingly kind of you to look after Billy in my absence, but I’d like him back now.”
Fen gave a sob and turned on her heel, bumping into Billy as he came out of the kitchen.
“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No, I’ve seen a real live person. Go into the drawing room and see.”
As she fled down the garden path she heard Billy calling her to come back, but she kept on running along the woodland path. Once she stumbled and fell over, cutting her hands but not even feeling the pain. She didn’t stop until she reached Rupert’s front door. It was open. The dogs surged forward, barking. Rupert came out of the kitchen, a large whisky in one hand, a letter in the other.
“Hello, duck. Had a tiff?” Then he saw her dirty grazed hands and her stricken face. “Angel, what’s the matter?”
“It’s J-Janey, she was waiting for us at the cottage.”
“Fucking hell, how did she get in?” He led Fen into the kitchen and poured her a large drink.
“I don’t want anything.” Her face crumpled.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. He won’t take her back.”
“He will, I know he will. He only had me as a stopgap.”
“Rubbish, I’ve never seen him happier.”
“I can’t bear it, I simply can’t bear it.”
Helen, who’d been tucking the children up, heard the commotion and came downstairs. Walking into the kitchen, she found a blond in Rupert’s arms.
“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Don’t be stupid, it’s Fen. That bitch Janey’s come back.”
Fen turned to Helen. “I’m so sorry to bother you,” she sobbed, “but I didn’t know where else to go.”
The telephone rang. Still with one arm round Fen, Rupert picked it up.
“Yes, she’s here. Well, not brilliant. What the fuck’s going on? Good, see you. He’s coming over,” he said replacing the receiver. “Now dry your eyes and have that drink.”
Billy was over in ten minutes. Rupert left them alone. Fen looked up, her eyes spilling over with tears. “Oh, Billy.”
“Darling Fen.” He drew her towards him. “I never dreamed in a million years she’d come back.”
“You must talk it over with her. She’s still your wife.”
“I don’t know if I want her back. I’m so much better without her.”
“There’s something you should know. Janey sent you two telegrams, one in Paris and one in Lucerne. Rupert tore them up.”
Billy digested this. Then he said bitterly, “That was only when I started winning again. Janey likes hitching her wagon to a star. Whether she’ll be so amused by a star on the wagon, I doubt.”
His hold tightened on her. “I’ll go back and have it out with her. Will you stay here? Rupert’ll look after you and I’ll come and see you in the morning. I just want you to know you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever been lucky enough to meet in my life.”
Meanwhile Rupert had gone onto the terrace and had found Helen watching the stars come out, the faint reflection of the half-moon mingling with the water lilies strewn across the lake.
“How the hell did Janey know Billy was coming home tonight?”
“Well, I may have told her. I don’t think I did. I had lunch with her yesterday. She was wearing Billy’s Old Harrovian tie. I certainly told her Billy was real happy with Fen.”
Rupert turned on her in fury. “You did what?”
“Well, she was so worried, she said it was so much on her conscience. Billy being on his own and drinking and doing so badly.”
“She knew bloody well he was doing well; she sent him telegrams.”
“Then she looked really sad, and said she did hope some day he’d find someone nice — so I told her about Fen.”
“She was fishing, you stupid bitch.”
“Rupert, please, don’t talk to me like that.”
“You’ve only done Billy the worst turn ever. He’d just struggled out of the quicksand; now you’ve pushed him back again.”
At that moment, Billy came out on the terrace.
“Will you look after her?”
“You should be doing that,” snapped Rupert, “and kicking out that slut.”
Rupert stayed up half the night talking to Fen, who was almost crazy with grief.
“I’m sorry to be so boring but I love him so, so much. I saw her. I know she wants to come back, and she’s so winning, and Billy’s too straight not to let her. It’s funny, I wanted to fall in love so badly — but I never dreamed it would hurt so much. Life’s not like the Pullein-Thompson novels, is it? They always have happy endings.”
Helen couldn’t sleep. Why did Rupert always have more time for other people — Fen, Billy, Tab — than he did for her? On the other hand she knew she was being punished.
