Part 38 (1/2)
”I don't understand something. About you and...and Nick. Please-he doesn't know I'm asking you this.”
”Yes,” said Laura. ”Go on, what?”
Charles put the car into gear, but he carried on looking at her. ”Did you honestly not realize who he was?”
”When?” said Laura stupidly.
”This summer, Laura. When you met him. And you thought I was Lord Ranelagh, not him. Did you-seriously, did you not think it was him?”
”No!” said Laura. ”He told me you were. Why would I think any differently?”
”He didn't,” said Charles. ”You a.s.sumed. He never actually lied, did he?”
”Well, no,” Laura conceded. ”But why do you find it so weird? I just didn't realize.”
”That's what I find so strange,” said Charles, starting through the intersection. He was silent for a moment; then he said, ”I just-I always think of him as...as this person.”
”What person?”
”A-a lord, a grand personage. You know. We're friends, have been for most of our lives. I see the real Nick more than most people do. But part of me always sees him as the Marquis of Ranelagh. Can't help it, just do. Owner of this beautiful estate.” He waved an arm, encompa.s.sing the fields around him. ”Descended from generations of Danverses and Needhams. The lord of all he surveys. He's an incredibly important person, not just because he's famous or whatever, but because he's in charge of hundreds of lives, looks after millions of pounds' worth of wealth. It's funny. I can't ever forget that.”
”Well,” said Laura. She thought of the Nick she'd known that summer, the Nick she still knew who missed his mother, who snored in his sleep. ”He wasn't being that when I met him, was he?”
”No,” said Charles, and his smile was sad. ”That's why you're special.”
Charles grew more nervous as they approached the house, Laura could tell, though she didn't know why. Afterward, it made complete sense, of course; but as they drove through the Chartley lands and then onto the estate, turned into the driveway, saw the sign, now freshly painted, Laura had seen all those months ago with her parents, she had no idea what lay ahead.
”Right, right, we're nearly there,” said Charles. The car crawled slowly up the driveway. The autumn sunset had begun, and the light filtered through the leaves. The view was carpeted with trees of all different colors, red, gold, orange, green. A light mist sat in the valley sloping away to the left; the park itself was ablaze with color. Laura craned her neck eagerly for that first glimpse of the house, to see what it would look like in this light, at this time of year.
Gradually, the hall slid into view, section by monumental section, as the drive curved toward it. Laura had forgotten how huge it was, just how imposing. She looked up to the East Wing, to make out Nick's room. It gave her a context, a sense of familiarity in this bewildering, vast landscape that she knew, yet felt so alien in.
”Look,” said Charles as they reached the house. He turned off the engine. ”I'll go in. I may be a minute or two. Stay here, okay?”
”In the car?” said Laura.
”Yes,” said Charles. ”I have to-to check something. And I'll-I'll find Nick. Don't want you wandering around the house getting lost, and all that.”
”Er,” said Laura, confused. ”Okay, of course.”
”Great,” said Charles. He opened his door and got out, then looked back in at her. ”I really won't be long, honestly. I just have to find Nick and explain something to him, and find out-er, what your room is, yes, that's it, what your-”
”Charles?” came a voice from behind him, and Charles spun around. Appearing through the fast-falling dusk was an unmistakable figure.
”Nick!” Charles said, his voice rather high. ”My G.o.d, h.e.l.lo.”
Laura sat still, not knowing what to do. Something wasn't right; she couldn't make it out.
”h.e.l.lo,” said Nick. ”Where have you been? I've been looking for you. You've been ages. You said you were-h.e.l.lo. Is that someone in there? Have you got someone in the car, Charles? Well, I never. h.e.l.lo?”
He bent down, his arm on the roof of the car, and looked in. His expression froze. ”Laura?” he said, his voice soft, hoa.r.s.e almost.
”h.e.l.lo,” said Laura, suddenly shy. She clambered out of the car and stood across the bonnet from him and Charles.
Nick stared blankly at her. ”Sorry. What on earth are you doing here?”
”Er...” Laura said, not sure if he was joking or not. ”Am I early?”
”Nick,” said Charles, putting his hand on Nick's shoulder.
Nick turned to Charles. ”Laura-here. You're here,” he said, turning back to her. He looked at her almost desperately. ”Why have you come back? Why now?”
”You invited me!” said Laura, half laughing, trying to keep her voice light. ”You can't change your mind.”
”Nick, listen,” said Charles more loudly.
”What?” said Nick. ”What are you talking about?”
A kaleidoscope of images and words started rus.h.i.+ng through Laura's mind. The e-mail. The broken phone. Charles's nerves. Nick's expression.
”Oh, G.o.d,” said Laura. She looked at Charles. ”Charles-?”
”I invited her,” said Charles, standing straight and looking at Nick. ”I invited her down. Pretended to be you. I thought you should see her again. I thought you two should-sort it out. There are things you need to tell her, Nick.”
”You did what?” said Nick, advancing toward him.
”Oh, s.h.i.+t,” said Laura. ”Oh, no. No, no. You sent that e-mail, didn't you?”
”Yes,” said Charles. His expression was defiant, aggressive, as with those who know they are wrong but feel they have just cause to be. Laura and Nick stared at him as he stood between them. ”I'm sorry,” he said. ”Well, I'm not sorry. She's here now, Nick. She can't go back till tomorrow. I know you both hate me, but-but I did the right thing.”
Laura swallowed, and s.h.i.+fted on both feet. She didn't know what to say. The gravel crunched under her shoes. She wished she were anywhere. Anywhere but here.
”The right thing-” Nick swore under his breath. He took a step toward Charles. ”Charles, you-oh, G.o.d. What have you done?”
He grabbed the shoulder of his friend's jacket. Charles stared at him impa.s.sively. They were still for a few tense seconds; then Nick released him and stepped back.
From behind them, through the vast wooden entrance doors, came a lilting voice: ”Nick! Nick, darling! Come inside! I can't find the drinks. I'm thirsty!”
As if she were a housewife ordering her husband around through the patio doors at a barbecue, there at the stop of the stairs was Cecilia Thorson, in a headscarf, wide print skirt, pretty little pumps. She fluttered, birdlike, halfway down the stairs. ”Nick? Nicky,” she said across the driveway. ”Are you coming?”
”What's she doing here?” said Charles sharply, under his breath.
”Rose invited her,” said Nick. His lips were thin, his voice expressionless. ”She turned up about fifteen minutes ago. Now do you see what I mean?”
He turned back toward Cecilia. He didn't even look at Laura, or Charles. He took a deep, ragged breath. ”Yes,” he said, looking up at her. ”I'm coming, Cecilia.”
His back was still turned to Laura. ”Find her a room,” he said in a low voice to Charles. ”She can be your date tonight. I'll talk to you about this tomorrow, Charles.”