Patricia Wentworth - Out of the Past

“I know, dear. But I can’t. You see, I’m not sure what Alan did about them. I was ill, and he managed everything.”

“You must know what he did with the papers.”

Esther looked vague.

“He managed everything-and it’s nearly ten years ago- Carmona and I had that cottage-there was so little room. Of course they must be somewhere. I promised Mr. Murgatroyd I would have a good look, and he said he would put an advertisement in the South American papers-for Alan, you know.”

Adela Castleton pressed her lips together. She was of the opinion that it would probably be better for Esther and everyone else if Alan Field were to remain on the other side of the world. There had been so many stories about him. Men didn’t like him-didn’t trust him-never had. There was a time when he used to run after Irene. So many young men did that, and he was only a boy-twentyone-twentytwo. Old enough to be quite terribly attractive-and a troublemaker. That last year Irene had seen a lot of the Fields… Irene swimming out to sea and drowning there…A sudden attack of cramp?…She had never had cramp in her life…

“Oh dear!” said Esther Field. “I’ve dropped two more stitches! No, three! Carmona darling-”

When the stitches had been retrieved Carmona stood up. She was still holding the shawl. The man who had come down the cliff path looked at the little group and saw her like that, in her white dress with the folds of crimson wool falling down it to her feet. He stood for a moment to take in the scene. Quite a decorative effect. She had, if anything, improved in looks. Pretty would always be the wrong word for her, and no one would ever call her beautiful, but there was something about her that pleased the eye-a charm, a grace. Since Hardwick was away, they might have quite a sentimental meeting.

His eye travelled to Esther Field. She really hadn’t changed a bit. He supposed she never would, the soft-hearted, muddle-headed old thing. He felt quite fond of her as he remembered how easy it had always been to get round her.

Neither of the Trevors was in evidence. Esther’s maid had told him they would be here-“Such a nice party, Mr. Alan. Mrs. Field was ever so pleased about it. Colonel and Mrs. Trevor, and Lady Castleton-quite a reunion as you might say, not to speak of meeting old friends we used to see when we went down to Cliffton regular every summer. The only pity is Major Hardwick not being there.”

Somehow, he felt, they would be able to do very nicely without James Hardwick. And without the Trevors too. Maisie was all right-she might even be useful-but old Tom had always given him a pain in the neck. Adela Castleton- no, on second thoughts, Adela might be worked into the game. It would be tricky of course, but he could do it-oh yes, he could do it. And to play a tricky game well was half the fun.

He came across the shingle to the beach hut, and Carmona saw him. It was just as if someone had struck her a sharp blow. The shawl slipped from her hands and fell. She didn’t know whether she was hurt or not. There was just that sense of shock and of everything being wrenched a little out of focus. His voice and the touch of his hand on her shoulder-

“Carmona!”

He was smiling and looking down into her eyes just as he used to do. And then he was on his knees by Esther Field, an arm about her, kissing her.

“Well, old dear, how are you? But I needn’t ask-you look marvellous. I’m even a little hurt. The wanderer returns, and nobody has been pining for him!”

“Oh, my dear boy! Oh, Alan, my dear, dear boy!”

He endured an embrace which entangled him in crimson wool. Half a needleful of stitches slipped and were lost. He disengaged himself, laughing, and turned to Adela.

“Lady Castleton-how nice to walk right into a family party! Emily told me when I turned up at Esther’s flat, so I thought I would come down right away. Pity about Hardwick not being here. I was looking forward to meeting him.”

Carmona had not moved. She did not move now, but she spoke.

“I hope he will be here tomorrow.”

Alan Field said, “Delightful!”

The numbness went out of her. The shock of the blow was passing and she could feel again. What she felt was not what she had expected to feel. Whenever she had thought of seeing Alan again there had been an intolerable sense of shrinking, but now that he was here it was gone. He stood looking at her with the smile which used to twist her heart, and all she felt was the prick of anger.

As he stepped into the sunlight, she saw that he looked more than the three years older. Whatever he had been doing in South America, it had not done him any good. There was the old charm, the old grace of movement and manner, the old ease, but it seemed to her as if something had gone out of all these things. Or was it that something had gone out of her? That little glow of anger persisted. It was outrageous of him to blow in like this…He had come to see Esther. There was nothing outrageous about that… It wasn’t Esther’s house…It belonged to James Hardwick whom she had married after Alan had let her down…And James wasn’t here…If he had been, would even Alan have had the nerve to walk in like this?

He had the nerve now to laugh in her face and say, “Well, Carmona, how about it? I hope you are going to ask me to stay, because, quite frankly, I’m broke to the wide.”

Pippa sat up and stretched.

“Who isn’t?” she said. “Hullo, Alan, where have you blown in from? I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“Darling, you couldn’t very well-I was in South America.”

“Why didn’t you stay there?”

“Partly because I was broke, my sweet, and partly because someone was advertising for me. I thought there might be money in it, so I came home only to find it was a bloke who wants to go through my father’s papers. Seems there’s a boom in Penderel Fields, and he wants to cash in on it and write a life.”

Pippa stared.

“Well, I shouldn’t think Carmona could put you up. Frankly, I think you’ve got a nerve to ask her. And anyhow the house is pretty well crammed.”

Esther Field had scrambled to her feet.

“No, no, you can’t stay here-of course not! The house is really very full indeed. It wouldn’t do at all. Carmona mustn’t think of it. Come up to the house with me and we will have a talk. You remember the Annings? They used to take p.g.’s, and you stayed there once or twice when we had the house too full.”

He laughed.

“Oh, yes, I remember the Annings.”

“Well, Mrs. Anning is quite an invalid, but Darsie carries on. It’s really quite a boarding-house now. I met her yesterday, and she was asking particularly for you. And I don’t think she is full up, so perhaps-But come up to the house, my dear, and we will talk it over. I have to take that cliff path slowly.”

Carmona had not said anything at all. Her expression was grave and still. Alan Field turned to her now, his eyes dancing.

“Well, Carmona? Time seems to be getting on, and I lunched on a sandwich. Talks with Esther are rather apt to be lengthy. Am I invited to dinner, or is the house too full for that?”

She smiled, and said in her natural voice,

“Oh, I think we can manage dinner, Alan.”

Esther Field sat by the window and fanned herself. They were in the morning-room, which was the coolest room in the house. She had left her knitting in the hall, but the climb up the cliff path had heated her. She was worried too, because after the first shock of surprise she could see very well that Alan had put them all in a very difficult position by coming here. He really had no business to walk in on them like this. The more she thought about it, the less she liked it and the surer she was that it really wouldn’t do. James wouldn’t like it-not after the way Alan had treated Carmona. He couldn’t be expected to, though she wasn’t sure how much he really knew. Husbands and wives didn’t always tell each other everything. Even Pen-