Forrest Leo - The Gentleman

I ignore her. ‘But if— If you had just— Everything I hated about you wasn’t actually… you ! Why did you not simply appear to me as you are?’

‘I did!’ she cries. ‘I did, and for the first fortnight of our marriage you ignored me entirely! I was a new bride, nervous and uncertain and in undiscovered country, and you locked yourself in this study and made it eminently clear you wanted nothing to do with me.’

‘But that’s because I was composing! I was finishing— I forget what I was finishing, but I couldn’t be interrupted by matrimony ! You’re a poet, you must understand! I was composing. And when I emerged, I found you… vapid.’

‘Where is it?’

‘What?’

‘What you were composing.’

‘I forget what it was.’

‘Liar.’

‘It’s in my desk.’

‘Why is it not published?’

‘Because I couldn’t finish it.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. I became… stuck.’

‘I COULD HAVE HELPED YOU GET UNSTUCK!’

With an exasperated sigh she throws herself down in an armchair. My head is spinning. There is a large part of me which is quite miserable, a larger one which is wracked with guilt, and a third and largest which feels as though I am the luckiest man upon the face of this earth.

‘Well,’ says Lizzie, ‘in a sense the plan worked perfectly.’

‘Yes,’ says Kensington supportively. ‘Mr Savage did realise his mistake, and through Mrs Savage’s absence fell in love with her. I believe that everything is resolved.’

‘Not everything!’ cries Lancaster. ‘I am still undone.’

Viv lifts her head and smiles at her brother mischievously. ‘You know,’ she says, ‘I’ve been thinking it over — and I’m very near to hitting upon a plan for you! It will likely be rather dangerous, though.’

‘Will it involve piracy?’ he asks, perking up.

‘It will.’

‘And derring-do?’

‘And rapscallionism.’

‘And rakishness?’

‘Rakishness, disguise, and swashbuckling.’

‘God I’ve missed you!’ exclaims Lancaster, and I can only agree with him. That I should ever have thought this woman anything but magnificent is and for the rest of my life will remain a source of deepest shame.*

‘Or you could come with me,’ says the Gentleman.

We all swing to face him. ‘I could what?’ says Lancaster.

‘I mean, if you were so inclined — I am certainly not exercising any sort of metaphysical authority, let it be understood. But if you were at all interested (I understand you are an explorer of sorts) you could certainly accompany me home.’

‘Home — to Hell?’

The Gentleman winces. ‘Oh,’ he says, ‘I do so hate that word.’

‘Essex Grove,’ I put in. ‘Essex Grove is a much better name — it makes it sound more inviting.’

‘Precisely!’ cries the Gentleman, much gratified by my memory. He flashes me a shy smile.

‘Well,’ says Lancaster, ‘that is interesting, by Christ. I considered stowing away on the four o’clock train to Paris, but I seem to have missed it. And so—’

‘What time is it?’ asks Hubert sharply.

Lancaster looks at his watch and says, ‘Seven minutes past four.’

‘Oh dear,’ says Hubert in great agitation. ‘I am so sorry. You must excuse me, what? Sorry!’ And he flees from the room.*

‘Do you know,’ says Vivien thoughtfully as we stare after him in astonishment, ‘Hubert is the first man in my life who has offered to fight for my honour.’*

Lancaster is about to protest, but the Gentleman speaks first. He points to the half-finished canvas (which is still upon the easel) and asks Lizzie, ‘Did you paint that?’

‘I did,’ she says.

I open my mouth to apologise for her impropriety, but the Gentleman says, ‘I like it very much.’

‘So do I!’ says Lancaster like a puppy. He peers at it. ‘What are those circles?’

‘Nothing,’ I hasten to reply before Lizzie can. But she pays Lancaster no attention. She is gazing at her handiwork.

She crinkles her nose. ‘It’s a terrible painting.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ says the Gentleman. ‘It’s the work of an inexperienced artist, certainly. But it’s clear that you understand how to make a painting great, even if you do not yet have the skill.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Certainly. It’s the understanding that counts. It’s like music. Mrs Savage was speaking of Mozart — when you listen to Mozart, you of course hear his proficiency — you recognise, if you will, that he is good at his job. But what makes him great is his preternatural grasp of things you cannot even begin to comprehend. Surely you know what I mean?’

‘No,’ I say, even as Vivien and Lancaster answer as one in the affirmative. I sigh inwardly, knowing what is to come next.

‘I am afraid I must plead ignorance,’ says Lizzie with a venomous glance in my direction. (I was correct in my deduction.) ‘Those responsible for my education have been found sorely wanting in certain areas. Ashley, are you really going with him?’

‘Yes,’ says Lancaster slowly, ‘I believe I am. You see, the thing is, I’ve built my life around the explication of things that cannot be explained and the exploration of places that exist which everyone says don’t. And now I have an opportunity, a very rare opportunity, to visit one. And I believe I once told Mummy I’d be damned before I got married, ha ha ha!’* His wonted good spirits seem to be returning by the moment.

‘Good,’ says Lizzie. ‘I’m going with you.’

‘Now see here,’ says Lancaster, shocked, ‘you can’t just up and—’

‘Are you telling me what I can and cannot do, Ashley Lancaster?’ asks Lizzie sharply.

He looks appropriately cowed. After a moment, he says in a small voice, ‘It will be nice to have some company.’

‘It will indeed!’ cries the Gentleman, beaming. ‘I hope that while Mr Lancaster is off exploring the Elysian Fields you wouldn’t be opposed to remaining behind in my cottage and drinking some tea and reading some books and perhaps even conversing a little? I do get most dreadfully lonely sometimes.’

‘The pleasure would be all mine,’ says Lizzie with a curtsy. ‘And you can teach me all about art and music and things!’

‘Lizzie,’ I say, ‘were you intending to ask my permission?’

‘Certainly not,’ she says with some surprise.

‘You two could come!’ says Lancaster.

‘No,’ says Viv, ‘I don’t think so. We have a very great deal to talk about. And,’ she adds with a frank glance which makes me turn crimson, ‘we have other unfinished business besides.’

‘Oh good!’ says Lizzie. ‘I’ve been trying to tell Nellie that he really must—’

Mercifully, she is interrupted by the Gentleman. ‘Oh dear,’ he says suddenly.

‘What?’ asks Lancaster, as eager to change the subject as I am.

‘I’ve just thought of something. It’s rather difficult for me to bring home guests in their corporal form. I quite forgot.’

Lancaster’s face falls. ‘But sir,’ he says, ‘there must be a way! Tell me that there’s a way. I must leave England immediately.’

‘There is a way,’ says the Gentleman dubiously. ‘But it will take some doing, and may not be achievable yet. It would be easiest with some form of aerial transport.’

Lancaster, Lizzie, Kensington, Viv, and I all begin to laugh at the same time.

‘What is funny?’ enquires the Gentleman.

‘I think,’ says Viv, ‘that the trip will not be so difficult after all.’