Lynda La Plante - The Legacy

Lady Primrose could smell Freedom’s musky perfume — sweet, strange and exciting, as he was — and his touch on her hand was gentle as he traced the lines on her palm. Giggling, she told Sir Charles she didn’t believe in all this mumbo-jumbo, and pulled her hand away, taken aback by the expression on her cousin’s face. He was staring at Freedom, his eyes furious. When he caught Primrose looking at him, he turned away and blushed the scarlet of his monocle ribbon. It was obvious that the gypsy boxer had powers which were not necessarily confined to fortune-telling.

David didn’t know what to say to Evelyne, he kept trying to think of some way to start a conversation, but then stopped before speaking. He could feel her in his arms, so close and yet so many miles away. There was so much he wanted to tell her — needed to tell her — but they danced on and he remained silent. Going back through the years in her mind, Evelyne turned around and came back again. Here she was, dancing close, very close, to the man she had believed she loved, so close that if she turned her cheek she could kiss his lips, and yet nothing could be further from her thoughts. He had shrunk, she was sure of it. She was taller than him now, and that cloyingly sweet perfume was surely not the one she used to wear. His eyes were so pale they seemed filled with tears, and as if he were reading her thoughts he suddenly stopped dancing and sighed, ‘I need some air, which way should I go?

Evelyne sat on the balcony steps, feeling cold, and David took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

‘Do you remember everything now, David? How I used to come and visit you? Do you remember?’

His head twitched, his mouth working. He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, pulled her closer, ‘You are the most beautiful creature, that is what I remember most — and you have filled out to perfection, to perfection.’

His free hand traced her bosom, heavy with milk for her son.

‘Please don’t do that.’

He smiled, kissed her neck softly, and she gasped.

‘You liked it once, you like it now: excite me, excite me, set me on fire.’

She looked around; he was holding her hand tightly, hurting her fingers, pulling her close, and he forced her head back, kissed her “just as he had kissed her that night in his car, forcing her mouth open with his tongue.

‘No, don’t, please, please … Let go of me, please.’

He held her even tighter. ‘What’s the matter with you, you liked it once, I remember. I remember that, you liked it, you loved me.’

Evelyne looked at him, amazed. How could she have been so foolish? ‘That was a long time ago, David, I think we should go back into the ballroom.’

He grasped her shoulders, tight. She didn’t push him away, but neither did she encourage him. She whispered, ‘What do you want from me?’

‘You know, what’s the matter? Not good enough for you now? Tell me, what have you set your sights on for tonight? My God, for a little slut you certainly have done well for yourself, I have to hand it to you, wormed your way in here very nicely …’

Evelyne drew back her right hand and slapped David’s face so hard that he reeled.

‘I am a married woman, with a son, how dare you make such insinuations, how dare you?’

He laughed, a humourless, barking sound, a sarcastic smile on his face. ‘You are still for sale, Evie, and to the highest bidder, your type always are and you know it.’

He was about to move away when she gripped his arm. ‘I’ve never been for sale, David, just poor. Is that a crime? You sicken me, for if there’s anyone selling themselves it’s been you … I loved you with a passion, a childish, naive passion that you abused, just like you abused your own friend, Freddy … How’s your wife? You knew he loved her, and yet you had to have her. Why, David? Because she’s titled? Because she had money? It’s you who’s been for sale, David, you … you’re nothing. Go back to your high society, your rich friends who laugh at you behind your back!’

He backed away from her, wringing his hands. ‘You know, you’re terribly wrong about one thing, my wife, I love her, I always have, but she makes a fool of me … a public fool.’ His voice was childish, pitiful, and to Evelyne’s dismay he started to cry. His shoulders shook, and he stuttered through his sobs, ‘We’re stony broke, all my fault. I lost my way, Evie, so long ago, lost my way, you see …’

He lifted his hands to Evelyne, a helpless gesture, then she saw the familiar habit he had of sweeping his hair back. His signet ring glinted. ‘Damned wretched business, can’t seem to hold on to anything … my father short-changed me, ya know, should have given me a sharp rap across the knuckles, but instead he encouraged me, because …’

He turned away from her, rested his hands on the balcony rail. ‘… Because he wanted me to succeed. Laughable, really — get in with the right set, Mother always used to say — and here I am, cap in hand, begging from Charles because we’re penniless.’

‘Why don’t you work? You were studying to be a lawyer.’

His voice was soft, full of pain. ‘I can’t remember things, hardly the best credentials for the Law Society …’ His eyes pleaded with her, ‘I don’t remember, Evie, I pretend I do, but so help me God, I don’t, because … because I’m scared. Sometimes when I have been with you I recall pictures — Mrs Darwin, my father …’

She knew he was lying, she sensed it, lying like a guilty child. She moved closer, almost touching him, ‘David, you can remember. What happened? What happened to you?’

He stared at her as if cornered, trapped. He shook his head and she inched even closer. ‘What did you do that made you so afraid? Tell me? You can tell me.’

She held him in her arms, felt him trembling, smoothed his hair, patted the silky hair she had longed to touch all those years before. ‘You know, David, in a way you don’t belong here either, you are as much out of your depth as I am. Whatever you did surely can’t make you hide for the rest of your life?’

His face altered, the child disappeared. His slender grasp of reality began to slip. His mouth turned down and his face twisted in fury at her assumption that he was no better than she, as if they were of the same class. When he spoke he had reverted to his usual, over-precise speech pattern. ‘I’m not hiding, duckie, what do you take me for? I know what you bloody are.’ He made a grab for her breast, ripping her gown.

Neither of them had heard Freedom’s soft footstep, or were aware that he had been standing close by. With one swift move he gripped David’s jacket and tossed him aside.

‘It was that bitch’s fault, don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me.’

For one moment Evelyne would have liked Freedom to throw David over the balcony, then she turned, looking for help to stop him.

Ed had been searching for Freedom since Freda had told him David and Evelyne had disappeared together. As he came around the side of the house, he saw Freedom dragging David along the balcony and ran as fast as his fat legs would carry him.

‘Freedom … Freedom! Evelyne, stop him, for God’s sake. Stop him!’ He launched himself on to Freedom’s back and tried to pull him off the hysterical David. Freda and one of the stable lads ran out on to the balcony and the boy tried to help Ed control Freedom, but they were no match for him, and it was not until two more lads came running that they were able to haul Freedom away from the weeping man.

David flailed his arms in the air, his voice a high-pitched shriek. ‘How dare you, how dare you manhandle me, I’ll have you horsewhipped, you animal!’

It was a grotesque, embarrassing scene, and Ed tried his damnedest to calm everyone down. ‘Show’s over — it was nothing, just a bit of fun. Everybody go back inside, it’s over … You all right, sir?’