The weather had changed too, and as the grey skies closed in on the October afternoon, the black tracery of ivy fretted against the casement windows and sharp bitter winds swept the leaves from the lime walk and drove them in withered heaps along the dry gravel paths. However many jerseys she put on, however much she raced about the house, Taggie was still cold, while upstairs Maud oiled and scented herself for Declan’s return, no doubt leaving a horrible mess both in the bathroom and bedroom, which Taggie had just cleaned.
In the kitchen, having put some green tomato chutney to cook on the Aga, Taggie was trying to find a place on Caitlin’s incredibly skimpy pants to sew a name tape. Caitlin, having scattered breadcrumbs all over the dresser, dumped papers and magazines on the table, left the orange juice carton out and her scrambled-egg pan unwashed in the sink, was now peeling an orange.
Give me to drink mandragora,
That I might sleep out this great gap of time
My Archie is away [she moaned].
‘One day you’ll be sewing the name Caitlin Baddingham and a coronet on my pants. Don’t you think I’ll make a good Lady Baddingham?’ She dropped a deep curtsey. ‘I’m going to bunk out of school next weekend so I can see him.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ said Taggie, breaking off a thread with her teeth. ‘You’ll get expelled and it’s bound to get in the papers. Oh, for God’s sake,’ she snapped, as Caitlin dropped her orange peel on the table, ‘can’t you ever throw anything in the bin?’
‘Don’t nag,’ said Caitlin. ‘When I grow up I’m going to live in a really messy house.’
‘What happens when you meet a fantastic man at a party and want to bring him back for a cup of coffee afterwards?’
‘I’d go to his house,’ said Caitlin. ‘How can I live without Archie till next weekend?’
How can I live without Rupert for ever? thought Taggie, getting up to give the tomato chutney a stir. She jumped as Gertrude and Claudius rushed in and leapt on to the window-seat, bristling furiously. They were followed by Maud in a big fluffy pink towel.
‘What on earth are you cooking?’ she demanded in outraged tones.
‘Tomato chutney,’ said Taggie, through gritted teeth.
‘What a disgusting smell to welcome home your poor father, and there are cows in the garden doing great splattering cowpats all over the lawn and the paths, which is even worse. They must be Rupert’s. Ring him up and tell him to take them away.’
‘You ring him,’ screamed Taggie. ‘I can’t do everything.’
‘Temper temper,’ said Maud, exchanging surprised glances with Caitlin. ‘Well, I certainly haven’t got time to ring. Someone’s got to be ready to welcome him.’
‘Scrubbing off other men’s fingerprints,’ said Caitlin scornfully, as Maud flounced off upstairs.
She put a hand on Taggie’s shoulder.
‘You OK?’
‘N-not really.’
‘Is it Rupert? Did you have a lovely day?’
Taggie nodded. ‘But Sarah Stratton was waiting for him when we got back, so I came home. He said he’d ring, but. .’ Her voice trailed off. She stared at the great congealing brown mass of onions, brown sugar and tomatoes. Her mother was right. It was a repulsive smell.
‘I’ll ring him about the cows,’ said Caitlin. ‘That’ll remind him.’
But when she got through, Rupert was on the other line and the secretary said she’d send the farm manager over at once to remove the cows.
‘Rupert’s probably terribly busy,’ said Caitlin consolingly. Then, as the telephone rang, ‘There, that’ll be him now.’
‘You answer it,’ gasped Taggie. Please God make it be Rupert, she whispered over and over again into the vat of chutney.
‘Hullo, Upland House Bakery. Which tart would you like to fill?’ said Caitlin. ‘Oh Archie, darling, I won’t survive either.’
She was interrupted by frantic barking. Gertrude and Claudius shot off the window-seat, taking the cushions with them, and rushed into the hall as a car crunched on the gravel.
‘My father’s just got back. He’d lynch me if he knew I was talking to you,’ said Caitlin hastily. ‘I’ll write tonight. Love you madly. Ciao.’
Fighting back the tears, Taggie went out to welcome Declan. He looked wonderful, incredibly suntanned from filming outside and much less tired. He was about to hug her when she was sent flying by Maud, a tornado of Arpège and desire, wearing Taggie’s new grey cashmere jersey. Throwing herself on Declan, she buried her face in his chest so that he shouldn’t see the guilt flickering in her eyes.
‘Darling, you’re so brown and handsome,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve missed you every single minute.’
Caitlin, lounging in the doorway, whistled, then she quoted sardonically:
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her, though I know she lies.
Declan was too delighted to find Maud in such good spirits to take in what Caitlin was saying. ‘Cameron’s outside,’ he said. ‘Come and say hullo while I unload the car.’
Taggie’s heart sank as Cameron came through the door. Like Declan, she looked wonderful. Her face seemed even softer, her hair less severe. She was wearing a cream silk shirt tucked into brown suede jodhpurs above tight, shiny brown boots. Either it had been a highly successful shoot or she was obviously over the moon about seeing Rupert again.
Ignoring Taggie and Caitlin, she went straight up to Maud and hugged her. ‘Ireland was terrific, but we sure missed you. If you’d been playing Maud Gonne, we’d get an Emmy. Esther McDermott was just awful. But Declan was such an inspiration. His sarcasm can bruise, but, wow, it makes you grow.’
‘Really,’ said Maud, not altogether enthusiastically.
Taggie, unable to take any more, went out to the car, where she had no difficulty in picking out her father’s battered roped-together leather case from Cameron’s Louis Vuitton. On the second journey she picked up a couple of carrier bags.
‘No,’ said Cameron sharply, appearing in the doorway. ‘Those are gifts for Rupert and the kids. I must show you what I got Tabitha, Maud.’
She produced a little leather pony, with a girl rider, and bridles and saddles that came off.
‘Isn’t it neat?’
‘Lovely,’ said Maud without interest.
Cameron had bought a beautifully illustrated book of Irish legends for Marcus, and a pair of gold cuff links for Rupert, which she insisted on showing to Taggie.
‘I’ll get his crest put on later,’ she said. Taggie stared at her dumbly.
‘Very nice, I’m sure,’ said Caitlin tartly. Then, looking at Cameron’s jodhpurs, ‘Are you going for a ride?’
‘I sure am,’ said Cameron with a sudden lascivious smile. ‘After three weeks away I need one, and not on the back of a horse. I’m off, Declan,’ she yelled into the house, ‘I’ll call you as soon as I know when we can see the rushes.’
‘Bitch,’ screamed Caitlin at the departing Lotus. Taggie shook her head. Cameron was the one who Rupert belonged to.
Taking a bottle of duty-free whisky, Declan and Maud went up to bed. Taggie also went up to her room, and, with trembling hands, tried to hold Caitlin’s binoculars still as she looked across the valley to Penscombe Court. Enough leaves had come off the trees now for her to see lights on downstairs in the kitchen and the drawing-room. Then, like a firefly lighting up the almost leafless chestnut avenue, she saw Cameron’s Lotus storming up Rupert’s drive. In an unbearably short time another light went on, which Taggie knew from Tabitha’s guided tour of the house yesterday was Rupert’s bedroom. No one bothered to draw the curtains.