Nevile said in a rather unnatural voice: 'I don't see why we shouldn't go there early in September.'
'Oh, but, Nevile, surely — ' She stopped.
'We can't go in July and August because of the Tournaments,' said Nevile. 'But we'd finish up at St. Loo the last week in August, and it would fit in very well if we went on to Saltcreek from there.'
'Oh, it would fit in all right — beautifully. But I thought — well, she always goes there for September, doesn't, she?'
'Audrey, you mean?'
'Yes. I suppose they could put her off, but — '
'Why should they put her off?'
Kay stared at him dubiously.
'You mean, we'd be there at the same time? What an extraordinary idea!'
Nevile said irritably: 'I don't think it's at all an extraordinary idea. Lots of people do it nowadays. Why shouldn't we all be friends together? It makes things so much simpler. Why, you said so yourself only the other day.'
'I did?'
'Yes, don't you remember? We were talking about the Howes, and you said it was the sensible, civilised way to look at things, and that Leonard's new wife and his Ex were the best of friends.'
'Oh, I wouldn't mind. I do think it's sensible. But — well, I don't think Audrey would feel like that about it.'
'Nonsense.'
'It isn't nonsense. You know, Nevile, Audrey really was terribly fond of you … I don't think she'd stand it for a moment.'
'You're quite wrong, Kay. Audrey thinks it would be quite a good thing.'
'Audrey — what do you mean, Audrey thinks? How do you know what Audrey thinks?'
Nevile looked slightly embarrassed. He cleared his throat a little self-consciously.
'As a matter of fact, I happened to run into her yesterday when I was up in London .'
'You never told me.'
Nevile said irritably: 'I'm telling you now. It was absolute chance. I was walking across the Park and there she was coming towards me. You wouldn't want me to run away from her, would you?'
'No, of course not,' said Kay, staring. 'Go on.'
'I — we — well, we stopped, of course, and then I turned round and walked with her. I — I felt it was the least I could do.'
'Go on,' said Kay.
'And then we sat down on a couple of chairs and talked. She was very nice — very nice indeed.'
'Delightful for you,' said Kay.
'And we got talking, you know, about one thing and another. She was quite natural and normal — and — and all that.'
'Remarkable!' said Kay.
'And she asked how you were — '
'Very kind of her!'
'And we talked about you for a bit. Really, Kay, she couldn't have been nicer.'
'Darling Audrey!'
'And then it sort of came to me — you know — how nice it would be if — if you two could be friends — if we could all get together. And it occurred to me that perhaps we might manage it at Gull's Point this summer. Sort of place it could happen quite naturally.'
'You thought of that?'
'I — well — yes, of course. It was all my idea.'
'You've never said anything to me about having any such idea.'
'Well, I only happened to think of it just then.'
'I see. Anyway, you suggested it and Audrey thought it was a marvellous brainwave?'
For the first time something in Kay's manner seemed to penetrate to Nevile's consciousness.
He said: 'Is anything the matter, Gorgeous?'
'Oh, no, nothing! Nothing at all! It didn't occur to you or Audrey whether I should think it a marvellous idea?'
Nevile stared at her.
'But, Kay, why on earth should you mind?'
Kay bit her lip.
Nevile went on: 'You said yourself — only the other day — '
'Oh, don't go into all that again! I was talking about other people — not us.'
'But that's partly what made me think of it.'
'More fool me. Not that I believe that.'
Nevile was looking at her with dismay.
'But, Kay, why should you mind? I mean, there's nothing for you to mind about!'
'Isn't there?'
'Well, I mean — any jealousy or that — would be on the other side.' He paused, his voice changed. 'You see, Kay, you and I treated Audrey damned badly. No, I don't mean that. It was nothing to do with you. I treated her very badly. It's no good just saying that I couldn't help myself. I feel that if this could come off I'd feel better about the whole thing. It would make me a lot happier.'
Kay said slowly: 'So you haven't been happy?'
'Darling idiot, what do you mean? Of course I've been happy, radiantly happy. But — '
Kay cut in.
'But — that's it! There's always been a 'but' in this house. Some damned creeping shadow about the place. Audrey's shadow.'
Nevile stared at her.
'You mean to say you're jealous of Audrey?' he said.
'I'm not jealous of her. I'm afraid of her … Nevile, you don't know what Audrey's like.'
'Not know what she's like when I've been married to her for over eight years?'
'You don't know,' Kay repeated, 'what Audrey is like.'
April 30th.
'Preposterous!' said Lady Tressilian. She drew herself up on her pillow and glared fiercely round the room.
'Absolutely preposterous! Nevile must be mad.'
'It does seem rather odd,' said Mary Aldin.
Lady Tressilian had a striking-looking profile with a slender bridged nose, down which, when so inclined, she could look with telling effect. Though now over seventy and in frail health, her native vigour of mind was in no way impaired. She had, it is true, long periods of retreat from life and its emotions when she would lie with half-closed eyes, but from these semi-comas she would emerge with all her faculties sharpened to the uttermost, and with an incisive tongue. Propped up by pillows in a large bed set across one corner of her room, she held her court like some French Queen. Mary Aldin, a distant cousin, lived with her and looked after her. The two women got on together excellently. Mary was thirty-six, but had one of those smooth ageless faces that change little with passing years. She might have been thirty or forty-five. She had a good figure, an air of breeding, and dark hair to which one lock of white across the front gave a touch of individuality. It was at one time a fashion, but Mary's white lock of hair was natural and she had had it since her girlhood.
She looked down now reflectively at Nevile Strange's letter, which Lady Tressilian had handed to her.
'Yes,' she said. 'It does seem rather odd.'
