Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Charlie didn’t wait for a reply, he just turned and marched off, leaving Edward feeling like a spare part. He somehow knew Charlie didn’t want him to meet his friends.

Edward sat at the small nursery desk for a few hours, studying, until he heard a car outside on the gravel. He looked out of the window to see Lord Carlton in his car. He opened the door and Lady Primrose ran to join him. They drove off, and Edward could see her kissing Freddy’s neck as they disappeared from view. He felt slightly disgusted — Lady Primrose had to be in her early fifties, yet she was acting like a teenager, and a naughty one at that.

By mid-afternoon the sun was hot enough to crack the flagstones so Edward crept into the dead Clarence’s room and found himself a pair of swimming trunks. The water was icy cold, and the surface of the pool was covered with leaves. He nervously lowered himself into the water. Clinging to the edge, he dog-paddled, never having swum in his life. He tried a few strokes, and made it from one side of the pool to the other. Then he got out of the water and sunbathed, lying on the marble side of the pool. He had still not been paid, and it was beginning to irritate him. So Charlie was in a mess, that didn’t mean Edward had to follow in his tracks. He was going to succeed, even, perhaps, one day, live in a place like this. He liked the old furniture, its weight. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘one day I’ll have a place like this.’

He began to burn from the heat of the sun, so he returned to his room. He had a long bath, then changed for dinner. He was always a little wary of going to the drawing room before the dinner gong sounded, as he felt such an intruder.

At last the gong boomed, and Edward made his way downstairs. He was starving from his walk and his swim. Charlie thumped him one from behind as he moved down the stairs. He was in full evening dress, a white silk scarf wrapped around his neck. ‘Just out for the evening, you don’t mind. Oh, Ma, Ma... the Henleys want you to call them, I said you’d see them at their fete.’

Edward hung back slightly as Lady Primrose stood at the open doors waving Charlie off, calling to him to enjoy himself. Edward stood in the hall, uncertain what to do.

‘Well dear, it’s just you and me. God knows what Mrs Forbes has come up with tonight... now, I insist you sit in the throne, David won’t be down. Do help yourself to wine...’

‘Thank you, er... where’s Charlie gone, Lady Primrose?’

Lips puckered, she picked at the dreadful mess on her plate, then jabbed at it with her fork. ‘Oh, he’ll be with Lorna... they’ve come for a few weeks, all staying at the Waverleys’... Humphrey, what on earth is this? It’s like dead frog.’

Edward ate in silence while she chattered away, hardly touching her food, but the wine decanter was refilled by Humphrey and they both drank liberally. ‘She’s such a darling, awfully pretty gel, poor darling child was so in love with Clarry.’

Edward found it difficult to follow her train of thought. When she mentioned her dead son she stared into space. ‘Lorna is so patient. Charlie’s supposed to be engaged to her, you know, but he won’t name the date. This is dreadful, I can’t eat another mouthful. Why don’t we have some coffee in the drawing room... come along.’

Edward, still hungry enough to eat anything and light-headed from having consumed nearly a bottle of wine by himself, dutifully followed her into the drawing room. She offered him brandy and he accepted. He had never had it before and found it a harsh, burning liquid, but he liked it, it relaxed him. He even accepted the proffered cigar.

The fire blazed, the room was hot and stuffy, and the brandy and cigar made Edward feel a little dizzy, but he liked the feeling. He asked Primrose if she would mind if he loosened his tie, and she laughed, crossed over to him and, with one deft finger, unhooked the tie, then loosened his collar. He averted his face, ashamed. Lady Primrose misconstrued his look. He was certainly a very handsome young man, much better-looking than any of the other students Charlie had landed her with. ‘Shall we play some music, sort out something from that pile of records over there — not that other stack, they were Clarence’s.’

She watched him standing over the record-player. He hadn’t refused, hadn’t made an excuse to go to his room. Perhaps he rather liked her. She leaned back and sighed, that would be nice, to have a young man in love with her. She lolled against the cushions and closed her eyes in what she thought was a provocative pose.

Edward had no idea what record was what, and he looked through them at a loss. He chose one at random, placing it on the turntable and winding the handle energetically. ‘The Moonlight Serenade’ drifted out, slightly cracked and at a rather slow tempo as he had not wound the phonograph up properly.

‘I’ve had a disastrous afternoon.’

Edward wound the handle. ‘Pardon?’

‘Shall I tell you something, something naughty? I have been having an affair with Lord Carlton for more years than I care to remember. It’s not as shocking as it sounds, his wife knows, she’s known for about as long... she just turns a blind eye. But it’s no good when it’s sort of accepted, is it?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

She laughed, held out her glass. ‘Be a sweet boy and give me a refill, would you, make it a large one. Thank you, sweetie.’

Edward took her glass to the cabinet and filled it, took it back to her and turned the phonograph off as he went. He handed her the glass.

‘Well, chin chin, aren’t you going to join me... oh do! Go on, help yourself.’

Edward shrugged and refilled his glass.

‘He’s impotent, well, he has been for the past four months... I put it down — haw, haw, haw! That was a slip of the tongue — his factory, or his wife’s factory, is being closed down, not many people are really all that interested in toffee when there’s a war on... Come and sit beside me.’

Edward moved closer, but did not sit beside her. He sipped his brandy and stared into the fire. He felt Primrose’s hand touch his head, stroking his hair.

‘You’re very quiet, what are you thinking about?’

‘Oh Christ,’ he thought, ‘she’s making a play for me.’ Aloud, he said, ‘I think I’ll go up and do some work, do you mind?’

‘I’ve got a super record somewhere, better than that creepy slow stuff, we’ll have something bright and lively.’ Her whole body broke into a flush as she looked at him. He was so tall, so lean, and his hair coal black. It had grown longer over the summer and it suited him. He was quite the most beautiful boy she had ever seen in her life. There was a quality to him that she found so overtly sexual, even on their first meeting she had noticed it — a strange, animal quality, the way he moved, so guarded, so watchful, his eyes brooding.

Edward turned as she laughed. ‘I was just talking to myself, in my mind, thinking what a handsome boy you are. My thoughts were like those cheap penny-dreadfuls; “animal quality”, you know the sort of thing, “He paced the room like a wild beast, his broad shoulders, his dark, handsome looks.”’

When he looked at her, she couldn’t tell from his expression what he was thinking, and she didn’t care if it did sound like a cheap novel, his eyes were as unfathomable as... somewhere, somewhere she had seen eyes like these before, perhaps in the picture house, some long-forgotten film... she got up and went to the gramophone. Edward watched her tossing records about, and downed his drink. He shouldn’t have mixed them. ‘I don’t dance, and I’m a bit drunk, actually, I really think I should go up to my room.’

‘I’ll teach you, this is a tango, come on, up you get, on to those long legs of yours.’ Lady Primrose began to dance, and she swayed across the room as the music crackled from the old gramophone. She was still slim, still able to move like a young girl, and she began to tango. She tugged a shawl from the table, almost overturning the bowl of flowers. ‘Come on, dance with me, dance, hold your arms up, that’s it. Now stamp your feet, as if you were a bullfighter... wonderful, da-da, darumrum-rum da... da rumpupup daaa.’