Oh dear, perhaps she ought to start looking for a father for William.
‘Where does one meet people round here?’ she said.
‘Darling,’ said Sammy. ‘On the other side of the valley is Wakeley, with discos and bright lights and rich industrialists with loads of bread just waiting to spend it on you and me. There’s even a singles bar just opened called the Loose Box. It’s always packed with the most dishy single guys, people who’ve come up North on conferences and who’ve got nothing to do in the evenings. I picked up my Finn there. I’ll take you there one evening next week.’
Harriet cuddled William, feeling his small solid weight against her left shoulder, his fat hands clutching her hair, thinking how gorgeous he smelt. The Loose Box sounded rather too advanced for her.
The telephone went.
‘I’ll take him,’ said Sammy, holding her arms out to William.
It was a Senora di Cuizano ringing from Rome. It was imperative to talk to Cory, she said. Harriet wasn’t risking it.
‘I’m afraid he’s awfully busy at the moment. Can he ring you back?’
The Senora sounded extremely put out. Perhaps she ought to tell Cory? Then she heard the front door bang. He’d probably gone out to get some cigarettes. She went into the kitchen to get tea. Sammy came down and sat in the rocking chair, hiding behind her hair, then peeping out making William crow with laughter.
Ten minutes later she heard the front door open; he must have just gone down to the stables.
‘I wonder what Chattie and Georgie are up to,’ said Sammy, making no attempt to move.
‘I’ll just make the tea,’ said Harriet, ‘and I’ll go up and see.’
‘Oh look — walnut cake,’ said Sammy, ‘how lovely. Elizabeth’s so mean we’re never allowed anything like that for tea and when you consider the amount they spend on drink, and pouring oats down their horses. It must be quite a nice life being Elizabeth’s horse.’
‘Cory’s nice that way,’ said Harriet. ‘He’s not interested in how much money I spend. He’s nice anyway,’ she said, ‘when he’s not being nasty.’
She had spoken too soon. At that moment Cory threw open the door.
‘Harriet,’ he roared, ‘will you get those bloody children out of my hair. Can’t you manage to control them for five minutes. That infernal Georgie’s been smoking my cigars, and sprayed water all over my script, and Chattie’s scribbled over the walls.’
Sammy giggled.
‘Oh God,’ stammered Harriet. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll remove them at once. I thought they were watching television.’
‘Who was that on the telephone?’ said Cory.
‘A Senora di Cuizano rang from Rome.’
‘And what did you say to her?’ said Cory, his voice suddenly dangerously quiet.
‘I — er — said you were busy.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Cory. ‘Don’t you realize that was Zefferelli’s PA? I’ve been trying to get hold of her all day. You’ve probably just lost me half a million bucks.’
Harriet fled upstairs and met Chattie and Georgie coming down.
‘I don’t like Daddy,’ said Chattie, sniffing.
‘Makes two of us,’ muttered Harriet.
Georgie was looking very green.
‘Where does Dracula stay in New York?’ he said.
‘I don’t know,’ snapped Harriet.
‘The Vampire State Building,’ said Georgie, and was violently sick all the way down the stairs.
Later she was telling Chattie a bedtime story.
‘Who’s been sleeping in my bed?’ she said in mother bear’s medium sized voice.
‘Why don’t Mummy and Daddy bear say, “Who’s been sleeping in our bed”,’ said Chattie. ‘Mummy and Daddy used to sleep in the same bed, although they don’t now. They might again one day, I suppose.’
‘And little baby bear said, “Who’s been sleeping in my bed”,’ said Harriet, in a high voice.
‘My mother’s very famous,’ said Chattie. ‘She looks like a princess all the time. Georgie says his mother doesn’t look like a princess first thing in the morning, only when she goes out. People are always asking for my mother’s naughty-graph.’
Harriet decided she’d heard quite enough about Noel Balfour in the last twenty-four hours.
‘And Goldilocks looked up and saw the little baby bear, and screamed and screamed.’
‘Is Drackela in real life?’ said Chattie.
‘Oh Chattie,’ wailed Harriet, ‘can’t you concentrate for one minute?’
Cory appeared in the doorway.
‘Hullo, Daddy,’ said Chattie.
Harriet refused to look up; her lips tightened; she was fed up with Cory.
‘That’s enough stories for one night,’ said Cory.
Harriet got up, and walked straight past him.
She heard Chattie shrieking with giggles as he kissed her good night.
Downstairs, the tea things were still waiting to be cleared away. Harriet groaned. She felt absolutely knackered. Dispiritedly she started loading the washing-up machine.
Cory walked in and opened the fridge.
‘I’m starving,’ he said.
Serve you right, thought Harriet, you should have eaten that omelette.
He opened his mouth to speak, once again she turned on the waste disposal. For a minute they glared at each other, then he laughed.
‘Turn that bloody thing off. I’m going out to get some curry.’
Harriet’s mouth watered.
‘There’s a movie I want to watch later,’ said Cory.
‘Really,’ said Harriet, crashing pans.
‘Will you please stop sulking,’ said Cory. ‘I’m sorry I kept you up half the night. I don’t remember what I said, but I must have bored the pants off you.’
Didn’t have any on, anyway, thought Harriet.
‘I’m sorry I’ve shouted at you and bullied you all day,’ he went on. ‘It was entirely my fault. I was feeling guilty about wasting a whole work day yesterday, and then being in no condition to do any work today. You’re a good girl. I’ve put on a bath for you, so go and have a long soak — by which time I’ll be back with the curry.’
Totally disarmed, Harriet gave a grudging smile. One had to admit that Cory had his moments.
She was just getting into her bath when she heard crying. It was William. She’d only just put him to bed. She wrapped a towel round her and went into his room. Immediately, he stopped crying and cooed and gurgled at her. His nappy was quite dry, but as soon as she’d tucked him up, and turned off the light he started yelling again.
She was just about to go back into the room when Cory came down the passage with his car keys.
‘Leave this to me,’ he said. In amazement Harriet watched him go over to William’s carry cot, wrap his arms into his shawl, winding it up tightly like an Indian papoose.
‘They like to feel secure,’ he said to Harriet.
William opened his mouth to bellow indignantly.
‘And you can shut up,’ said Cory sharply. ‘Give your poor mother a bit of peace.’
William was so surprised he shut his mouth and didn’t make another sound.
Out on the landing, Harriet blinked at him.
‘You’re absolutely brilliant with babies,’ she said.
‘Noel was never the maternal type,’ said Cory. ‘So I’ve had plenty of practice.’
They had a nice, relaxed evening, drinking red wine, sluttishly eating curry off their knees in the drawing room, and throwing the bones into the fire. Harriet enjoyed the film, but, as Cory was an expert on movies, was determined not to appear too enthusiastic.