Jinks’ hair was very thick, and she wore it in pigtails — one always higher than the other as Harriet usually plaited it for her. It gave her a strange, lopsided effect which was not improved by her new glasses. She had a gruff voice which always made them laugh as she sounded like an elderly gin-sodden lady.
Edward was forever watchful over Harriet, worried that the stress of Jinks’ operation might take her near the edge. He persuaded himself that that was why he was feeling so pent up: he felt bound to the house, to his wife. His old wanderlust returned and, bored, he began venting his frustration at work, taking on more and more deals, buying and selling, anything to occupy his mind. So much attention was paid to Harriet’s condition that Edward’s feelings were often swept aside. Only Dewint, whose loving care had been the mainstay of the household for so many years, could feel the undercurrent and waited with trepidation. Dewint knew Edward was drinking heavily, and he suggested that perhaps Harriet and Jinks should go to the country, to Haverley Hall, for a short holiday.
If Harriet was aware of Edward’s drinking she said nothing, she was so wrapped up in her new role of motherhood. She agreed that Jinks would benefit from some fresh air, and proceeded to pack. Edward drove them both to the station, and as he watched the train pulling out of the station, his daughter’s face pressed against the window as she waved goodbye, his depression deepened. He couldn’t really understand himself why his moods changed so radically and why, whenever he felt content, felt that life was good, something inside him, like a sickness, made him try to destroy that happiness. He caused mayhem when he returned to the office that morning; he was already drunk, his behaviour erratic. He screamed instructions to Miss Henderson and made her wish for Alex to return to regain some semblance of order.
Alex did not return for a week as he had been in Mexico trying to decipher the companies that Edward had, without a word to him — his so-called partner — been running for years. Miss Henderson was more than relieved to see him. She was close to tears and she showed him the bedlam created by Edward: his manic instructions, his new shares and business transactions were a confused mess of papers. Alex listened, his fury mounting at the destructive and foolish deals his brother had begun and left half finished.
‘You’d better give me the keys to his office, Miss Henderson. God knows what else he has got us involved in.’
‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t have a spare set, no one does...’
‘Well, if that’s the case, I’d better go and find him. Is he at home?’
‘I don’t know. I can call the manor, if you wish.’
‘Don’t bother, I’ll go personally. Make a list of all these new transactions and leave them on my desk.’
Dewint opened the front door, and looked aghast as Alex stepped in. ‘I’m afraid, sah, Mr Edward... he has company, sah.’ He told Alex that Harriet and Jinks had gone off to spend a few weeks in Yorkshire. But Alex would not be put off.
‘Tell him I am here, would you, Dewint, and I have no intention of leaving.’
Alex looked into the lounge; the room was a mess. Bottles were strewn everywhere, dirty glasses. From somewhere in the house he could hear music. Then he heard Edward’s voice, shouting, telling Dewint he didn’t want to see anyone. Alex strolled back to the hall door and saw two scruffy tarts being hustled out by Dewint. He sighed, about to turn away, then froze.
Edward appeared, unshaven, his eyes red-rimmed. Alex could smell him a mile off, and he was reeling drunk. He started shouting, incoherently, then slumped on to the sofa. Alex calmed him down and tried to talk to him, begging him to rest. He was sure Edward was an alcoholic, but he just could not fathom out what had caused the change. He seemed hell-bent on destroying everything they had built up.
‘Why, Edward, in God’s name, what is the matter with you? Just as everything is going so well... Are you ill? Is that what all this is about?’
Edward stared at him without replying, then began to pick up empty bottles.
‘You need a doctor? You carry on this way you will destroy everything we’ve built up together.’
‘Together? Don’t be so fucking crass, you an’ me aren’t together, you line your own pockets like every other bastard I come into contact with... fuck off, leave me alone!’
Alex sat down, tried to keep his voice calm. He played for time, his mind reeling, wondering what Edward had discovered. ‘Maybe that’s your fault... you see, every time I think I can trust you, I find out something that makes me more wary of you than ever... what the hell have you got going in South Africa?’
Edward sneered at him, poured himself another drink. ‘Whatever I’ve got going keeps you out of the shit, so why worry... I’ll go to prison, not you, haw haw haw.’
Alex wanted to shake him, hit him, but he gritted his teeth and tried once more to discover what Edward was working on in South Africa. ‘Is it legal, just tell me...?’
Edward laughed, a boozed, humourless laugh. Then he switched on the stereo so loud that it was pointless to continue.
He watched Edward as he moved around the room, trying to dance to the music. It was pitiful. Alex closed the door and switched off the stereo as the music ended, determined to talk things through. Edward smiled at him, fumbled in his pocket. ‘Look, I’ve been making out my will. You get the lion’s share, on condition you take care of Harry and Jinks. Christ, look, I’ll come clean — I am bored, understand? I am so bored, and... and I packed them off to Yorkshire. I’m thinking of upping and leaving, you know... Oh, you won’t understand, I get these feelings inside of me and... I feel trapped here, I’m trapped.’
Alex read the will. Sure enough, Edward had left him everything apart from some legacies to Harriet and Jinks. He looked up as Edward poured himself another drink. ‘Here, take it back. And if you want some advice, grow up. You’ve been a selfish bastard all your life — just for a change, think about Harry, about Jinks, and what they’d do without you.’
‘Think about them? Jesus Christ, I spend my whole life worrying about her and the kid... Well, I can’t take it, it’s like living with a bloody time-bomb — I never know when she’s going to blow. Have you any idea what it’s like...’
‘Getting yourself drunk won’t help matters. Maybe you should take a holiday, you’ve pushed yourself to breaking point. You can’t be an easy man to live with, Edward, and, well, you’ve got your daughter to think of...’
Edward drained his glass. ‘Yeah, little Four-eyes. She’s so damned well behaved, so quiet, she’s like a fucking mouse. Even the nanny creeps about like a fucking nervous cow.’
Edward leaned back on the sofa, turned his bleary eyes to his brother and, out of the blue, asked about Evelyn. Alex shrugged and said he hadn’t seen much of him lately as he had only just returned from New York.
‘He a good little chap, is he?’
Sighing, Alex replied that he was a bit of a handful, and they were unable to keep a nanny for more than a few months. Edward stared sullenly into the fire and hurled his glass, shattering it on the tiles. ‘I’m going out, fancy a night out?’
‘No, I’m on my way home, and if I were you I’d get to bed, sleep it off.’
Edward began to swear to himself, and he didn’t even notice when Alex walked out.
On the back seat of Alex’s car lay the tell-tale newspapers, and he picked one up. It showed a picture of the ‘tycoon’s brother’, drunk and being thrown out of Tramps nightclub. Alex swore and waved his hand for the chauffeur to drive away. ‘Go on, drink yourself to death, you bastard, and the sooner the better.’