Edward could hear Alex’s Rolls coming up the drive, and he swore, tossing the leaflets aside. He hadn’t bathed, changed, nothing... ‘Dewint, they’re here, get them drinks and I’ll be down.’
Barbara was wearing a sequinned, full-length white evening gown, off the shoulder on one side, a single sleeve on the other side reaching to a point on the back of her hand. The skirt fluted out from the knee, and she carried a matching sequinned handbag and a silver-fox wrap. Alex was dressed in a white evening suit and black tie, more to suit Barbara than for Edward. He had told Barbara little, just that Edward was as difficult as ever but had agreed to the buy-in, and was considering the Buchanan House deal.
Dewint served chilled champagne and murmured that Mr Edward would be down shortly. Then he shot up the stairs to warn Edward to dress, and found him still soaking in the bath.
‘Are you expecting any other guests, sah? They are wearing formal attire.’
Edward swore, heaved himself out of the bath and grabbed the proffered towel. Then he fetched his address book. ‘Call a few regulars, some from a show, and tell them to come on later — make it about eight to ten of them, okay?’
‘Would that be for dinner, sah?’
Pulling out clothes from the closet, Edward told Dewint just to get a few faces along after they had dined.
‘Stars, Dewint, look under “S” for stars, they’ll be here.’
Dewint hovered, squinting at Edward’s scrawling writing and shook his head as Edward held up a grey suit.
‘I don’t think so, sah, they are, as I said, dressed.’
Alex and Barbara sat in silence. The clock ticked and they could hear the constant pinging of the telephone.
‘Where has he been, did he tell you?’
Alex said he had asked, but Edward had been as evasive as usual. She began to tap her foot in irritation. ‘I presume he is aware that we are here? How long does he intend to keep us waiting?’
Alex stared out of the window across the river, where the Barkley Company Ltd sign loomed high in the sky. He sipped the champagne, then lit a Havana cigar, carefully clipping the end.
‘I must say the place is frightful! Who on earth did the interior for him? A lot of it looks almost threadbare... and all those terrible paintings, Alex, in the hall.’
Puffing his cigar alight, Alex went to stand at the fireplace. ‘Oh, they’re family.’
Harriet sounded very distressed on the telephone. The Judge was nearing the end and she found Haverley Hall very cold and her family in a similar state. Edward asked if she was all right, and not getting too upset, and she retorted that of course she was upset, anyone would be under the circumstances.
‘Look, sweetheart, I’ve got to go. Alex is downstairs, I’m to meet the new wife. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?’ He replaced the receiver.
Alex and Barbara both looked at the phone as it pinged again, and Barbara stood up, smoothing her dress over her tight, firm figure. ‘Perhaps you should go and bring him down. He’s obviously on the phone — it’s ridiculous keeping us waiting like this.’
The double doors opened with a bang as she finished, and Edward beamed, open-armed. He wore a white silk suit and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck, a thick, heavy gold bracelet, and his long hair was tied in a thong at the nape of his neck. Barbara’s jaw dropped, but she recovered rapidly as Edward strode towards her.
‘Well, you must be Barbara... I have to apologize for keeping you waiting. There’ll be just the three of us dining, and then some more guests will be joining us.’
Edward bent his head over her outstretched hand and kissed it. She could smell a heavy, musky perfume, and found herself blushing. ‘Alex, you are a sly old dog. You never said you’d married a raving beauty... Sit down, sit down and let me look at you — champagne, let me toast the pair of you.’ He raised his glass and drank, then sat opposite Barbara, smiling, and continued to flatter and tease her. When she told him about her daughters he laughed, tossing his head back, saying she had to be lying, no woman who looked like she did could have two grown daughters.
Barbara warmed to Edward, laughing and joking with him. She did not mention her anger at being kept waiting, or make any reference to her previous visit. He asked her all about Texas, and when Dewint entered to say that dinner was served he leapt to her side, guiding her into the dining hall.
Rows of candles shed their light on the long table, which was set out with heavy silver, polished and dazzling, as for a banquet. There were big silver goblets, bowls of fresh fruit, large chunks of bread in silver bowls, and Edward was the perfect host. If Barbara spoke, he gave her his full attention, his eyes never leaving her face as if everything she said was of vital importance. She was flattered, and the flow of conversation continued throughout the meal.
Alex toyed with the thick, home-made chicken soup, and hardly touched the roast beef, which was overdone and too thickly carved for his taste. The wine flowed, good wine, and Edward kept their glasses filled as Dewint moved around silently, clearing and setting, as unobtrusive as ever.
Barbara regaled Edward with stories of her old devil of a grandfather, and even though they were not particularly amusing he threw back his head and laughed as if she were the wittiest woman he had ever met. Alex watched his wife blooming under Edward’s encouraging attention. Occasionally Edward would reach over and pat his arm. ‘You lucky man, you lucky man... Barbara, another toast to you both. My brother’s a lucky man, but I warn him, he should keep you tied to the home...’
Alex felt very emotional. Again and again he saw the ghost of his father in Edward. Sitting in the throne, with his huge shoulders and thick black hair, the only difference was that Edward was a year older than Freedom had been when he died. It was as if Freedom had come back to say, ‘Look at me, this is what I would have been if everything had gone well, if my life had been different...’
‘You’re very quiet, Alex? Have some more wine, I’ve lots of people arriving to meet your wife, so I don’t want you crawling off with one of your headaches...’ Alex’s lips tightened — Edward made him sound like an old woman. But he smiled, and accepted the wine as Dewint passed round a mediocre selection of cheeses.
The doorbell rang a couple of times, but Edward gave not the slightest indication that he had heard it. They could hear voices, people arriving, laughter, but still Edward concentrated on Barbara. It was not until Dewint murmured that coffee was served in the lounge that Edward jumped to his feet and withdrew Barbara’s chair. But as the three made their way past the long refectory table towards the lounge, Edward stifled a yawn.
Barbara recognized several of Edward’s film-star guests. She listened as they discussed a columnist who had written a scandalous piece about a drug addict, but she had no idea to whom they were referring. The doors constantly opened to allow more guests to enter. Two of the men were obviously gay, wearing extraordinary thick platform boots and flared trousers with torn tee-shirts. The next couple were both in seedy evening dress, but they all greeted Edward with familiarity, shrieking with laughter when they saw him.
‘Eddie, the hair! Dahling, I mean, it’s Buffalo Bill!’
Edward grinned and laughed with them all, completely relaxed. He kept the stereo playing all the time, with Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, and then a band so loud that Barbara could no longer hear the film stars’ gossip. ‘I’m a back door man, Yes... Yes I am...’ Barbara noticed that a joint was being passed round — not that it came in her direction, it bypassed Alex and herself discreetly.