She lowered herself confidently to the stones and arranged her dress. Moscrop stood by uncertainly. Much as he desired it, he could not openly sit beside her with his back against the boat. It was, after all, a public beach. He compromised by removing the telescope from his bag, crouching to give it to Jason and then remaining in that position.
Heavens, yes, peering through a lens couldn’t be compared to this. Now that he had seen her at close quarters, heard her speak, actually touched her, he realised how different she was from all other women. Conversing with her was not easy; she said such unpredictable things, quite unlike the things he was used to women saying, all those women he had observed by the hour at the fashionable south coast resorts. Well to be quite accurate about it he had not been near enough to overhear any of their conversations, but he knew how they talked, the tones of their voices, the silly, trivial, engaging things they said. It never varied, from Torquay to Broadstairs. From the narrow end of a pair of binoculars, they all talked and behaved exactly like his sister Maud; so had Zena Prothero, until this confrontation.
‘Are you a resident of Brighton, Ma’am?’
‘No, my dear, more’s the pity. Gregory has a practice in Dorking, and we’ve escaped for three weeks. We are staying at the Albemarle. Comfortable, but monstrously expensive.
You are here for the season, I expect.’
‘Just three weeks, like you,’ said Moscrop. ‘I’m one of those deplorable individuals who cannot bear to be away from their business for more than the minimum. It betrays a lack of confidence, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh skittles, darling! You’re conscientious, like Prothero. He’s a doctor-did I tell you? Do you know that he has already given up four or five days of his holiday to visit former patients, retired people who moved here for reasons of health?’
He tried to appear impressed, but he could not forget the red-headed equestrienne. She had looked some way short of retirement. ‘Admirable, Ma’am. I’ve always held that it’s a capital doctor who still takes an interest in a former patient. There’ll be plenty for him to visit here, I’m sure. It’s a favourite spot for the convalescent, I’ve heard, what with its ozone and its chalybeate water.’
‘He’s visiting a poor old soul in Rottingdean this very afternoon, dear. Otherwise he’d be here with us. There’s dedication for you! Between ourselves, though, he doesn’t care very much for the sea-shore. He rather disapproves when I bring the children on the beach. It’s not the thing in the season, is it? I find the sea irresistible, though. There, that’s my lower class origins revealed! Now I can see from the way you’re crouching that you aren’t in your element, darling.’
‘Oh, on the contrary, I. . s›. . !s›. . !s›.’
‘Sit on the stones, my dear. Give your legs a rest. The shingle’s cleaner than you think. Now tell me all about Jason’s misadventure. Where were you when you spotted him-on the prom?’
‘Oh. That is-er-yes.’ The conversation was drifting into dangerous straits. ‘May I ask you a question, Mrs. Prothero?’
‘Anything you like, my dear-provided Prothero wouldn’t disapprove.’
Heavens! What did she expect? ‘Do you always favour this part of the beach?’
She laughed for no evident reason. ‘Why yes. It is altogether convenient. Guy likes to bathe from the machines near the pier there, Jason has his Punch and Judy show and I adore watching the excursion-yachts. Ah, Bridget has found Guy-the only useful thing that madam has done today.’ She waved to her stepson. He had come by way of the sand at the water’s edge, for ease of walking. Bridget trotted after him superfluously.
‘A fine-looking lad. There’s an upright look about him,’ said Moscrop, as though he meant it.
‘D’you think so, darling?’ (he fervidly hoped she would drop the endearment when Guy joined them). ‘He is not the easiest boy in the world to manage. It must be beastly for him to have to accept me as his stepmother.’
The cue for a compliment. ‘Quite the contrary, Ma’am. He could not possibly find anyone more acceptable. His difficulty, I suggest, is that you are far too chic to be thought of in a maternal capacity.’
Guy approached with hand extended. Not before Moscrop had seen Zena Prothero blush. Such timing! He stood to meet the boy with the casual air of Irving after some brilliantly-delivered line on the stage of the Lyceum.
‘Guy Prothero. I understand you saved my stepbrother’s life, sir.’
‘I wouldn’t put it as strongly as that. Simply returned him to his mother.’
‘We’re grateful, even so. Give me your card and I’ll inform my father. He’ll wish to show his appreciation. D’you smoke cigars?’
Damned impudence! ‘That won’t be necessary.’ He addressed himself to Zena: ‘Now that your stepson has returned, I’ll take my leave, Ma’am. If I might just recover the telescope from young Jason. . s›. . !s›. . !s›.’
She had given Guy a thunderous look. ‘You can’t leave like this. I shan’t allow it. You must have dinner with us at the very least. Where are you staying, Mr. Moscrop?’
He touched his bowler in as decisive a parting gesture as he could devise. ‘Most generous of you, Mrs. Prothero, but I really couldn’t put you to so much trouble. Your husband is a busy man-‘ ‘Fudge! If he’s too busy to meet the hero who saved his son’s life, I want to know the reason why!’
Guy said something in an aside to Bridget.
‘What was that?’ demanded Mrs. Prothero.
‘We should leave it to Father to make the arrangements. Do you carry cards, Mr. . ? But perhaps your name is pub- lished in the Fashionable Visitors’ List?‘ The note of sarcasm was blatantly calculated to insult.
‘Guy! Kindly leave this to me! Take Jason down to the water with Bridget and clean his hands and face.’
The boy shrugged, took a long look at Moscrop, felt in his blazer-pocket for his snuff-box, sniffed some gracelessly, continuing to stare, replaced the box, nodded to Bridget (who picked up Jason), turned and walked slowly away, kicking at pebbles as he went.
‘Your telescope, Mr. Moscrop.’ She held it out and as quickly withdrew it. ‘Oh, but it wants cleaning. The liquorice.’
‘Not with your handkerchief, Ma’am. It is far too delicate to soil.’ But she was already at work, diligently rubbing the chromium. She might have been scrubbing his back, it gave him so much pleasure.
‘You understand my problem now,’ she said as she worked. ‘I must apologise for the boy’s behaviour.’
‘Not at all. A difficult age, Ma’am. A difficult age.’
‘Darling, if you only knew how difficult. . This is a beautiful instrument, Mr. Moscrop. You shouldn’t have given it to Jason to play with. Lord, I hope the lenses are not damaged! May I look through it?’
‘But of course.’ He stood against the boat, ready to assist.
‘I shall try to pick out Jason. Is he too near for focusing? My dear, I can’t see anything at all.’
Surely this was an invitation! He knelt beside her as she peered through the eye-piece and put his right hand gently over hers to adjust the focus. ‘Hold the telescope steady, then. As I draw out the tube the image will form and you can make it sharper by small adjustments. Do you see anything yet? I am extending it slowly so that you can tell me.’ And so that she could feel the gentle pressure of his fingers on hers.
‘Oh yes! Don’t move it any more, darling. Perfect!’ she said. ‘I can see Bridget as clear as you like, wretched girl. Ah! There is Jason with his feet in the water. What a powerful instrument, Mr. Moscrop!’ She handed it back to him.
‘It’s built for longer distances, actually. If there were a steam-boat in sight. . I’d better put it away, however. My hobby, you know. Optical instruments. My profession, in fact. I have a shop in Oxford Street.’
‘In London? How exciting! Now I know why you cannot bear to be away for more than three weeks at a time. Darling, you must meet my husband. Gregory would be fascinated with your hobby. He has two microscopes himself which I polish for him sometimes. You and he would have so much in common.’