Part 5 (1/2)

'James is fine.'

This appeared to be true. Her brother didn't complain as much as he used to; he didn't fly off the handle so easily. For the first time in his life he seemed to be aware that he was the farm's inheritor, that the work he did was for himself. This transformation had come about since Mary Louise's marriage, and had intensified since Letty had begun to go out with the vet.

'And how are the Quarrys?' her aunt inquired.

They, too, were fine, Mary Louise replied.

'Well, that's good.'

'I mustn't stay long.'

'Oh, don't be in a hurry, dear. We don't see much of you.'

Robert laughed. 'We don't see her at all.'

She told them how the bicycle ride, and the long hill, had years ago been too much for Letty and herself, how it had jaded them, which was why James had been given the task of delivering the weekly gift of b.u.t.ter. She thought she'd better say that, in case offence had ever been taken.

'That's why we know James better,' her aunt said.

'He used to play bagatelle with me,' Robert said. 'He loved bagatelle.'

'He plays cards with the Edderys now.'

They laughed. But she wondered if she should have mentioned cards in view of the stories about the gambling that had left her aunt and her cousin penurious. Again she felt warmth creeping into her cheeks, and hoped they wouldn't notice.

'Stay and talk to Robert for a little,' her aunt begged. The soft plea in her tone had an edge of anxiety to it. She rose as she spoke and poured them each another cup of tea. Then she went away, the Kerry Blue ambling sleepily after her.

'She thinks I don't see people,' Robert said when the door closed behind her. 'Which of course is true.'

'What do you do all day, Robert?'

'I come downstairs to this room. I'm very fond of this room. I light the fire when it's chilly. We have breakfast together in the kitchen. The rest of the day depends on all sorts of things.'

She remembered his being driven to school by his mother when everyone else either walked or cycled. She had always a.s.sociated him with his mother, that weather-chapped face behind the steering-wheel. She never saw her aunt in the town these days, and she wondered where the shopping was done. She had pa.s.sed a general store and a petrol pump a couple of miles back. It would be there, she guessed.

'A quiet life,' her cousin said.

'Yes.'

The crooked smile expanded and straightened. He was watching her: all the time he was talking she could feel him watching her.

'I don't think I'd have been much good at anything noisier.'

She smiled in turn, not knowing whether to deny that, deciding not to. He said: 'I used to want to be an auctioneer when I was at Miss Mullover's. I fancied myself shouting the odds. Can you believe it? I really did.'

'I can't see you an auctioneer, Robert.'

'Useless I'd have been.'

'I wanted to work in Dodd's. It seemed like paradise.'

'You got the next best thing.'

'I thought of Quarry's too.'

'And is it paradise, Mary Louise?'

'Oh, all that was just a childish thing.'

He laughed, still watching her. His eyes were brown, but very dark, nearly black when they lost their luminosity. His gla.s.ses, tortoisesh.e.l.l-rimmed, perfectly round, suited him.

'Come and look at another childish thing,' he said.

He pushed himself out of his armchair and led her to the table in the window where the soldiers were displayed. It was the double battle of the Aisne and Champagne, he said.

'General Nivelle's plan was to break through the German line between Vailly and Reims. This cl.u.s.ter of German armies was under the command of the Crown Prince himself.'

He pointed to where the German line had held, between Vendresse and La Ville aux Bois. Elsewhere it had been pushed firmly back. Mary Louise wondered which war was being fought, and for what purpose.

'The Germans mustered a good counter-attack, but even so the French pressed on, breaking through the Chemin des Dames.'

Arrows with neatly printed names indicated all that. Some of the soldiers were lying down. These were the dead, he said.

She plucked up courage. 'Which war was this?'

'The one before last. The double battle took place in the spring of 1917.'

She followed him back to the fire. She began to say again that she must go, but already he was explaining that if the Russians hadn't been preoccupied with their revolution it would have been a different story. She wanted to tell him that in Miss Mullover's history lessons she'd been fascinated by Jeanne d'Arc. Shyness held her back again.

'In the end it was the Germans who emerged victorious from the Aisne and Champagne encounter. I'm sorry: this is boring.'

'No. No, it isn't.'

'I was explaining how I spend the day because you asked. I play with soldiers. And read. I read a very great deal.'

Mary Louise was not much of a one for reading herself. As well as Picturegoer Picturegoer, Letty bought Model Housekeeping, Model Housekeeping, and there used to be the and there used to be the Girl's Friend Girl's Friend years ago, when she and Letty were younger. In the farmhouse there was a bookcase on the landing. Mary Louise had read years ago, when she and Letty were younger. In the farmhouse there was a bookcase on the landing. Mary Louise had read The Garden of Allah The Garden of Allah and and Greenery Street; Greenery Street; at school they'd read at school they'd read Lorna Doone Lorna Doone. She had never even looked at the t.i.tles of the books in the attics of the Quarrys' house.

'When it isn't winter,' her cousin said, 'I do things in the vegetable beds. Sometimes I wander down to the stream. There's a heron on that stream.'

'I've never seen a heron.'

'You could see one here, Mary Louise.'

He smiled again, and all of a sudden she wanted him to know that once she'd thought herself to be in love with him. She didn't know why she had that urge, and of course it couldn't be realized. But she thought it would be nice if he knew that being an invalid didn't make him pathetic. He probably did know, she thought then: he seemed extraordinarily happy with the limited life he led.