Mingled With Venom

‘And what about my plans for you?’ said Romula.

‘Old ladies cannot make plans for young men.’

‘You will find that you are mistaken.’

‘No,’ said Gamaliel. ‘You planned that I should come here and live with you, but it did not come off, did it? You have my affection, dear old lady. You cannot have my body as well. That is mine to train and use as I wish. When I am world champion you will be proud of me and you will buy me a dressing-gown of purple and gold with big letters on it to say Ubi, just that, Ubi. I will give you a ringside seat next to all the gentlemen in evening dress smoking their big cigars and betting their big money on me in the title fight. You will see my name next day in all the newspapers. You will be proud to know me.’

‘That is a long speech,’ said Romula, ‘from an embryo prize-fighter. Except that you talk like a child of ten, you might live to regret it if it makes me alter my plans.’

When dinner was over with no more contributions from Gamaliel, Romula patted the drawing-room sofa as an invitation to Fiona to sit with her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘this time I intend to disclose what I have in mind.’

‘I want to come back to you, madre.’

‘To me, or to Maria?’

‘I miss you both.’

Gamaliel, who had left the men in the dining-room with their glasses of port, came over and seated himself on the floor at Romula’s feet. She gave him a push in the back with her knee and said: ‘Go away, boy. I am talking to Fiona.’

‘Don’t you love me, dear old lady?’

‘I do not love your dinner table monologues.’

‘Come over here, Gamaliel,’ said Bluebell. ‘When the others come in, you are not to join in what is said. Is that understood? You have spoken too much out of turn already.’

‘Where is Ruby?’ asked Gamaliel, seating himself obediently beside Bluebell.

‘At her studies. It might have been better had we left you at home to continue yours.’

‘Oh, we have no papers tomorrow and I have not passed in those we have already sat.’

‘You do not know that yet.’

‘My form master said so. He goes over the papers with us and is certain I cannot pass. I shall be leaving at the end of term.’

‘That is for me to decide.’

The men came in.

Romula said to her daughter, ‘Take this key and unlock the bureau in my bedroom. Bring me the long envelope with the blue markings. Settle down, all of you. You shall know something of what I intend.’

‘Is Gamaliel to remain, mother?’

‘Certainly. What I have to say may give him food for thought.’

‘The power of your purse is not as great as you think,’ said Gamaliel. Maria went out of the room and returned shortly with a large envelope scored across with blue to indicate that it had come by registered post.

‘This is a copy of my last Will and testament,’ said Romula, taking it from her daughter’s hand.

‘Is it the custom to disclose the contents of a Will before the testator is dead?’ asked Parsifal.

‘In my stories,’ said Garnet, ‘such a disclosure leads to the crime of murder. The plot of—’

‘Never mind your books, grandson,’ said Romula. ‘It is getting late and most of you have to get home. As for disclosing the contents of my Will, I have better reasons for doing so now than I had at our last family gathering. You were all disappointed then; some of you may be disappointed now. Our young protege—’ she looked across the room at Gamaliel— ‘has referred to the power of the purse. I intend to use it for the good of you all, himself included.’ She unfolded the crackling document which she had taken out of its envelope. ‘I have called this my last Will, and so it is—up to the present. Fortunately I still have my health and strength and the ability to alter or cancel any of the provisions herein at no more than a moment’s notice.’ She looked round at the circle of faces. Most of them remained impassive. Parsifal looked anxious, Diana bored.

Romula looked down at the Will and smoothed out the creases in the parchment. Apart from the sound this made, there was silence in the room. It was broken by the opening of the door and the parlourmaid’s voice.

‘Miss Ruby is here, madam, and asks whether she is to join the party.’

The query was redundant, for Ruby came past the maid into the room. ‘My music-master has gone on holiday,’ she said, ‘so I thought I would pop down for a day or two, abuela.’

‘Sit down, Ruby,’ said her protector testily. ‘I am about to read my Will. Well, not to read it word for word. It is full of lawyer’s jargon. What it amounts to is this: that you are all to do as I please, not as you please, if you wish to enjoy the benefits I have assigned to you. I shall not mince my words.’

‘So our simple understanding will not be clouded by false quantities and doubtful meanings,’ said Fiona.

‘I am not going to mention quantities,’ said Romula, ‘I must keep some surprises in store. I shall tell you who will benefit, but not by how much. I have become aware of some strange cross-currents in this family’s relationships. They must cease. I will explain my meaning as I go along. This is a time to speak plainly.’

‘But you say that is not what you are going to do,’ said Gamaliel. Bluebell brought her hand down with a stinging smack on his thigh. Gamaliel took the hand and kissed it and then grinned cheekily at Romula. ‘God bless you, dear old mysterious lady,’ he said. ‘Your God, of course, not mine.’