Harriet Evans - Love Always

There was a silence. The magazine slid off Cecily’s lap onto the floor; she ignored it. ‘Wel , I don’t like Frank,’ she said after a while. ‘I just don’t.’

‘Why don’t you go and play cricket, Cecily?’ Miranda said icily. ‘Burn off some of that energy before lunch. Little girls need to behave if they’re going to eat with the grown-ups.’

‘Wel , I’m going to go and play cricket,’ Cecily said, as if her sister hadn’t spoken. She shot out through the French windows, cal ing, ‘Hi! Can I play?’

‘Of course,’ Jeremy said, smiling fondly at his youngest cousin as she ran up to them. ‘Do you want to be a fielder?’

‘Oh,’ said Cecily. ‘Um yes, why not?’

‘Cec,’ said Guy, handing her his bat. ‘I was about to go up and wash my hands before lunch, why don’t you take over?’

Just then, there was a scream from upstairs. ‘Oh! Oh, my God!’ There came a muffled thud. ‘Leave me alone , you vile, vile little shit!’

‘What’s that?’ Frank looked up in alarm. ‘That’s Louisa. Louisa? Are you al right?’

There was no answer. Frank began to run, fast, towards the house. ‘Louisa? Hel o? I say, what’s happened?’

Jeremy fol owed him. ‘Louisa?’ he cal ed, breaking into a sprint. ‘Hey!’

‘Archie again,’ said Cecily softly to Guy, who was looking up at the house.

‘Archie what?’ he said quickly. ‘He’s a peeping Tom,’ Cecily said flatly. ‘Come on, let’s go and see if she’s al right.’

But it was Archie who needed the attention when they reached the top of the stairs. Through the open door Frank could be seen with his arms around Louisa, comforting her while she cried. And on the landing, rocking backwards and forwards, was Archie. Blood dripped from his nose onto the green carpet, staining it black. His careful y groomed hair was messy, the quiff bobbing loose over his forehead, and his beautiful white short-sleeved shirt had blood on it.

‘What happened here?’ said Guy. He leaned down. ‘Oh, my goodness. We need Jeremy, where is he? I think you’ve broken your nose.’

Cecily ran back downstairs to fetch him, her eyes wild, staring at her brother.

‘She hit me,’Archie said. ‘Sil y bitch.’ He shot Louisa a look of hatred, his hand clasped to his nose. ‘I was just walking back from the bathroom and she came out of her room and hit me. I’ve no idea why. She’s hysterical. She’s a hysterical bitch. Bitch!’ he repeated, as if that was the worst thing he could say. He wiped one hand on his jeans, smearing them with blood, and swore again. That was what was almost as shocking, seeing him so dishevel ed. Archie never had a hair out of place, he never showed any emotion other than amused detachment or careful watchfulness.

Cecily reappeared with Jeremy, who grimaced. He put his finger under Archie’s chin and looked at his cousin, who had blood pouring down his face into his shirt. ‘My goodness,’ he said. ‘How did you do this?’

‘I’l tel you how,’ said Louisa, breaking away from Frank and coming forward. ‘He spies on me, I told you, Jeremy! I was just changing out of my bathers, and I heard a noise again, and I looked towards the door. There’s a gap at the bottom, you can see shadows moving. So I pretended to be going to fetch my hairbrush off the dresser.’ She swal owed. ‘And then I opened the door and – I shoved my knee right in his face. Hard.’ She came up to Archie. ‘You disgusting, disgusting little dirty bastard,’ she spat. ‘What is it with you? What’s wrong with you, with you and your damn sister?

You’re both disgusting !’

‘I didn’t do it!’ Archie cried, looking around for support. His gaze fel on Miranda, who had arrived and was standing at the top of the stairs, watching them. ‘Miranda, I didn’t do it. You know I wouldn’t do it.’ He looked imploringly at his sister.

Guy said quietly, ‘What were you doing there, then?’ Archie was silent. ‘Exactly,’ Louisa said triumphantly. ‘Look at you.’

Frank put his arms around her again. ‘Poor honeybun,’ he said into her hair. ‘Why don’t we get you a drink.’ He looked at Cecily. ‘Where are your parents? You’d have thought they’d have heard.’

‘Mum’s stil upstairs working I think, she doesn’t real y hear anything when she’s in the studio. Dad – oh, who knows. He probably didn’t notice either.’ Cecily knitted her fingers together, as if the unconcern of her parents was an embarrassment to her. She turned to Guy. ‘What shal we do?’

‘Why are you asking him ?’ Miranda said scornful y. Guy looked at Jeremy and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

‘I’m going to take you into the bathroom downstairs and get you cleaned up,’ Jeremy said calmly to Archie. ‘And then let’s have a chat.’

‘I’m going to tel your parents,’ Louisa said. Her expression was vicious, ugly. ‘I’ve had enough. This whole holiday, the two of you . . . if it’s not your sister like a dog in heat, it’s you.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ Archie said. ‘I mean, this house is . . . Oh, God, I don’t know!’ Louisa threw her hands up in the air, almost in despair. ‘I hate it! The two of you together, you peering and spying, and Miranda, getting up to God knows what at night-time, I’ve heard her, I know what’s going on . . .’ She trailed off. ‘You should both be locked up, what is it with you two? Is it something in your blood? The other side of the family, I mean.’

There was an awful silence. ‘I wouldn’t say anything more if I were you, Louisa,’ Miranda said, facing her cousin, her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not your house, it’s ours. You’re lucky to be here.’

‘Don’t speak to me like that.’

‘I’l speak to you how I like.’ Miranda was shaking, her voice low, bursting with venom. ‘You’l be sorry, Louisa. I tel you. Don’t – don’t cross me.’

There was a silence, and they were al stil , frozen to the spot, staring at each other, as if seeing each other for the first time.

Louisa broke the spel . ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ she said in a shaky voice, and turned back into her bedroom, Frank holding her hand. ‘Of al of this.’ She shut the door, leaving the others on the other side of it, Archie stil bleeding, Miranda gazing almost in astonishment at the closed door, and the other three standing there, unsure of what to do next.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, bursting out everywhere, as if it had final y found a release valve.

‘Let’s go,’ Jeremy said uncomfortably, handing Archie another tissue, and their strange procession trooped downstairs. ‘I think we should find

—’

‘Hel o?’ A thin, rather querulous voice came from the sitting room, and as they got downstairs a figure appeared in the hal way. ‘Hel o? Is anyone there?’

‘Oh, my God,‘ Jeremy whispered. ‘Jeremy? Is that you? My goodness, what on earth has been going on?’

‘Mother?’ Jeremy said, emerging into the hal way. ‘We weren’t expecting you til tea-time!’ He strode forward, a smile on his face.

Pamela James, Frances’s sister, was standing in the hal , holding a pair of immaculate white gloves. She offered her cheek to her son. ‘We left earlier, to avoid the traffic. Hel o, dear,’ she said. ‘Daddy’s just parking the car. Where is Frances? No use asking for Arvind, I suppose.’

She was like a figure from another world, in a deep fuchsia tweed suit and sensible black patent court shoes, her handbag tucked into the crook of her elbow. Her calm, rather distant gaze took in Cecily, Guy and Archie, a handkerchief pressed to his nose. ‘Again. Can someone explain what has been going on?’

Jeremy took charge. He said, ‘Archie walked into a door. I’m just going to get him cleaned up now, Mother. Cecily, why don’t you go and find Franty – Aunt Frances, I mean?’ Cecily nodded and ran towards the back staircase to her parents’ room.