Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Edward obliged, and the lecture continued with Edward writing down the notes for Charlie that were to be handed in the following day. Charlie was very grateful, and waited for Edward as he came out of the lecture. Slinging his arm around Edward’s shoulders, he walked with him to the hall for lunch. They were coming up to the end of term, and Charlie, with his mouth full, asked Edward what his plans were. Edward shrugged and said he would be going back to London, and Charlie asked if perhaps Edward would like to spend the long vacation with him. ‘There’s a bit of a catch, see. If Ma finds out the condition I’m in this term all hell will break loose, know what I mean, old thing? On the other hand, if you were to stay for the summer vac, as a house guest, she wouldn’t go out and grab Emmott or some other cripple to get me working all summer. You and I could do a bit of swotting, help me along, what d’you say?’

Edward wanted to say yes, but he thought of money as always. Charlie grinned, as if reading his friend’s mind, and said it would cost his Ma about ten shillings an hour to pay a tutor and he, Charlie, would hand it over to Edward instead, then he would have his full board and lodgings plus a hell of a good time.

Edward wrote to his mother to say he would not be able to return home for the summer, as he was taking a special course in Wales. She did not have to worry about money as he would have all his costs paid. He would write to her when he got there. He wrote the note on a picture postcard of Cambridge town centre, knowing she would like to show it to her friends.

Edward packed his case into the back of Charlie’s MG, and was amazed at how much luggage Charlie had — two trunks and three cases. Edward’s small, cheap case looked embarrassing.

‘You travel light, don’t you? Well, come on, hop in, we’ve got a long drive. You ever been to Wales? We’ve got a pile of rubble there we use for hols.’

They drove fast, and Edward was again astonished that Charlie never seemed concerned about petrol, just as he seemed unconcerned about everything in his life.

They headed for Cardiff, and Edward looked around the countryside. It was so different from bombed, scarred London — as if war were far removed from this part of Britain. The sun shone, they passed farms where cattle grazed, it was idyllic and Edward started to relax. He had worked hard all term, and he looked forward to days with nothing to do. As usual, Charlie talked incessantly throughout the journey, gossiped about his pals, who they had been out with, the abortion they had fixed up for the redhead from the cosmetic counter at Woolies, the barmaid with the big tits from the Old Boar.

They drove through Cardiff town centre, shooting through red lights while Charlie yelled to Edward that he should look at this or that sight. As he never stopped, Edward was forced constantly to swivel round in his seat. The town disappeared behind them and they drove along twisting country lanes.

Charlie stopped and went behind a hedge to pee. He shouted to Edward that they were nearly there. When he got back in the car his mood had changed, suddenly he was quiet and he drove more slowly, and he spoke more calmly. ‘Look, there might be a bit of an atmosphere at home, with Clarence getting it. Ma might be a bit down. But she’ll be all right, there’s lots of friends coming up, so we won’t get too bored.’

They travelled on in silence, and Edward looking sidelong at Charlie who was chewing his lips and seemed edgy. They went on for another ten miles before Charlie spoke again. ‘You’ll find my old man a bit strange. Just ignore him, something happened to him in the war so he’s a little daffy.’

Edward asked which war, and Charlie chortled, said the first one, but he doubted if his father even knew what day it was so he might think he was fighting in the present war.

The car bounced along a dirt track and across a field, which Charlie said was a short cut. He waved to a farmer, who shook his fist at them, and then doffed his cap. They emerged on to a man-made road, wide enough for one car only. The hedges were thick on both sides so Edward could not see what went on. Suddenly they ground to a halt before a wall in which were set two huge iron gateposts, the gates missing. Charlie eased the car over the cattle-grid, bumping and thudding, then put on speed again. The path was edged with rhododendrons in full bloom, some of them overblown, the pink petals littering the ground. The drive seemed to go on for ever, but then they were among gardens and long, sweeping lawns which needed trimming, but were thick and lush. The car rounded one more curve and Edward gasped, ‘It’s a castle, Charlie, it’s a castle, you never said you lived in a castle.’

Charlie snorted and said again that it was just a pile of rubble, they could only use it in the summer as the place froze everyone to death in winter. ‘We only use one wing, the rest is falling down. We were lucky — my uncle, oddball fellow, died without any heirs, so he left it to Ma, there she is... Ma! Maaaa!’

Edward looked in the direction Charlie was waving, and he could see a figure in a picture hat, cutting roses. She carried a large basket on one arm and wore a man’s gardening glove on the other hand. She waved frantically and put the basket down, running towards the car.

The car skidded to a halt and Charlie jumped out, not bothering to open the door, and ran to her. She was shouting and waving as she ran, and Charlie caught her up in his arms and twirled her around, kissing her. Edward had still not seen her face beneath the hat, she was kissing Charlie and holding him at arm’s length, cooing that he looked just wonderful. Edward detected the same plummy accent, just like Charlie’s. He remained sitting self-consciously in the car as Charlie pulled his mother by the hand towards him. ‘Eddie, this is Ma; Ma, Eddie’s staying for the vacation, his family was bombed out so he had nowhere to go.’

The lie came out without Charlie batting an eyelid, and Edward tried to get out of the car and shake hands at the same time.

Lady Primrose Collins was furious with Charlie for not warning her or asking her permission to bring Edward, but Edward couldn’t detect anything but a rather cool welcome. She took off her hat and removed the gardening glove. ‘How do you do, please come into the house, Humphrey will see to your luggage.’ She linked hands with her son and walked up the big, crumbling steps into the castle. Edward hung back slightly, then followed them. He had been taken aback slightly at Lady Primrose’s age, thinking at first that she was very young. It was the way she moved, but close up he could see that she must be in her fifties. Charlie had inherited her pale blue eyes and snub nose. Even though she was gardening she was perfectly made up.

Edward’s initial reaction was disconcerting; a shadow seemed to pass over his heart and he felt his entire body shake in a strong sensation of deja vu. Yet he knew he had never met Lady Primrose before.

Perhaps not, but his father had known Lady Primrose Collins. And his mother, Evelyne, knew this pretty woman very well. If Lady Primrose had looked closely at Edward she, too, would have felt the powerful hand begin to manipulate from the grave. Edward strongly resembled his father, although he was not as tall, or as wild. His dark hair was cut fashionably short, but the young man’s face was almost a mirror image of the gypsy fighter’s.

Lady Primrose did not feel the past catching up with her, not yet. She simply welcomed into her home a young friend of her son’s, that was all.

The huge, baronial hall with its stone walls and massive, open fireplace was, as Charlie had said, cold, even though the sun was shining outside. There were suits of armour, shields and animal skins everywhere, very masculine, and the stone floor echoed their footsteps. Humphrey, in his butler’s uniform, walked past them to collect their luggage, while Charlie chattered away to his mother, telling her about the journey down and how well he had been doing.