The Golden Deed Page 5
There was something, they decided, almost unbalanced about the way he made trouble. He did it quite unnecessarily and irresponsibly, loosing malicious verbal shafts out of the blue with no provocation whatever, just as he’d done at the caravan. His chief target was the patient Mellanby, to whom he was insolent and patronizing by turns. But the others didn’t escape. The children came in for a good deal of mischievous teasing – not without protests from Sally – and were several times reduced to tears. Kira, perhaps, suffered most of all. Roscoe had not been content merely to carry out his promise and keep his attentions within bounds – now he had gone to the other extreme and was treating her like a menial, sending her off to post letters and buy cigarettes for him as though she were his personal servant. To the Mellanbys his behaviour was quite unaccountable – it was as though, in some desperately perverse way, he was driven to make people dislike him, to turn friends into enemies, to destroy. True, he was unpredictable – he could still, if he happened to be in the mood, switch on the charm and be the unexceptionable guest. But the total impact of his Jekyll-and-Hyde character upon the household was calamitous. What had been an exceptionally harmonious and tranquil home was rapidly turning into a moody and irritable one.
Only Mellanby’s profound sense of obligation prevented him from asking his guest to leave at once. He discussed it all with Sally in a long, anxious session and they agreed that if things got no better the moment was bound to come – and probably very soon. But Mellanby was deeply reluctant to take the step before he had to. The recollection of what he had so nearly lost, of the immense debt he owed to this strange, schizophrenic man, was so fresh in his mind that he shrank from the ingratitude of an ultimatum. Considering what Roscoe had done for them, he said, it was really a very minor sacrifice they were making – and they’d feel much happier in the end if his departure came naturally. It wasn’t as though he were showing any signs of settling in – he was still busily combing the district for his farm and with a bit of luck they wouldn’t have to put up with him much longer … Sally, torn by the same inward conflict as Mellanby, agreed …
Then, five days after Roscoe’s arrival at the house, there was a most disconcerting episode. It happened before dinner, when Sally and Mellanby were in the garden. The telephone rang, and Kira answered it in the sitting-room. The call was for Roscoe, who had just returned from a long day in the country. He came quickly downstairs to take it. Mellanby hoped it might have something to do with clinching a property deal, but evidently it hadn’t. The caller, whoever he was, was extremely angry. Harsh crackling sounds were audible through the open window as far away as the copper beech. Roscoe, holding the receiver away from his ear, glanced a little sheepishly across the lawn.
Snatches of one-sided conversation followed, on a rising pitch of temper never before heard in the Mellanby house. ‘I don’t see you’ve anything to make a fuss about, old chap …’ – ‘Don’t be so bloody silly, it was only a friendly gesture …’ – and, more aggressively, ‘You’d better watch your step, too, or you’ll get hurt – I’m not used to being threatened …’ Presently, with another glance across the lawn, Roscoe reached out and closed the window and the Mellanbys heard no more.
Roscoe didn’t come out for his usual drink when the conversation was over. He went straight back upstairs, with an ugly scowl on his face – and stayed there.
Mellanby said quietly, ‘I wonder what mischief he’s been up to now!’
‘I don’t know, he sounded horrible …’ Sally looked tense. ‘Darling, I don’t think I can stand much more of him – really.’
‘Not if he’s going to be like that, I agree.’
‘I think we ought to set a limit for ourselves,’ Sally said. ‘I think we should give him just two more days and then ask him, in as friendly a way as we can, to find somewhere else to stay … I don’t a bit mind him going on using the car, or you helping him, or anything – I just don’t want to have him in the house.’
Mellanby looked at her in silence for a moment. Then he said, ‘All right, Sally … Two more days.’
Chapter Nine
On the following afternoon Sally took Tony and Alison over to Blackett’s Lane to have tea at the caravan. Eve Sherston had rung up as she’d promised, the day after their meeting, to make the arrangement, and Sally had accepted with alacrity. The children had been told about the caravan and were both eagerly looking forward to the outing.
They reached the quarry about half past three. Sally’s recollections of the place were a little vague, but it turned out to be quite as pleasant as she remembered it. It was a flat, spacious semi-circle, ringed at the back and sides by a rough cliff of yellow stone which in turn was surmounted by some scattered silver birches and scrub oak. In one corner, a large horse-chestnut tree provided useful shade. The floor of the quarry was hard and dry, with patches of short turf and moss growing among the stones, and some old bits of tree boughs bleached white like the bones of animals. Near the road, where the ground was softer, a belt of thick bushes gave a curtain of privacy to the site.
Eve was sitting in a deck chair by the caravan reading a book when they arrived. At the sound of the car she waved and came smiling to meet them, greeting the children with a friendly ‘Hallo!’ There was no sign of George Sherston, and Eve explained that he’d gone into Bath for the afternoon. It would give Sally and herself a better chance to talk, she said, with an oddly conspiratorial air.
Once again, as Sally looked at her, she was struck by Eve’s outstandingly attractive appearance. With her beautiful colouring, her dark, amused eyes, and her easy manner, it was impossible not to be drawn to her. The children took to her at once, and were fascinated when she showed them how all the bits and pieces of the caravan worked. There was a wooden shelf that let down and became an extra bunk, and for a while they were absorbed in fitting together the jig-saw of foam rubber that made up the mattress and then taking turns climbing up on to it. Afterwards Eve got them to gather sticks, and lit a fire outside the caravan to boil the kettle on – just to make it seem like real camping, she said. She’d prepared a superb tea for them inside and, altogether, was proving herself a model children’s hostess.
Both Alison and Tony were looking a little somnolent by the time the last of the cakes had disappeared. Eve, casting about for something new to occupy them, said, ‘Do you collect conkers, Tony?’
‘You bet!’ Tony said, livening up at once. ‘I’ve got a four-hundred-and-ninety-eighter at home,’ he confided. ‘It’s a last-yearer. It’s the school conker. We have form conkers, too.’
‘Well, there are no end of them under that tree over there – but I don’t know whether they’re ripe.’
‘Oh, I’ll soon tell. Come on, Alison, let’s go and see … Can we, Mummy?’
‘Of course,’ Sally said. ‘You can do what you like as long as you keep away from the cliff …’ She watched them race off. For the first time, she and Eve were alone together.
‘Well,’ Eve said with a smile, ‘now that the little pitchers are out of the way I can give you the message I’ve got for you. George says he’s terribly sorry about last night – he realizes he was awfully rude and he hopes you’ll forgive him.’
Sally looked at her blankly. ‘What on earth are you talking about, Eve?’
‘Why, his ringing up, of course. Obviously he ought to have spoken to one of you first – it was unforgivable. However angry he was he ought to have done that.’
Sally stared. ‘You mean it was he who rang up Roscoe?’
‘Why, yes … Didn’t you know?’
‘No – Roscoe didn’t tell us who it was …’ She broke off. She was beginning to understand now why Eve had had that oddly collusive air to start with. ‘What was it all about?’
‘Well, it was quite stupid actually. Believe it or not, Roscoe suddenly turned up here yesterday morning … I was never so surprised in my life. He said he just happened to be passing, but frankly I think he’d been hanging around. Anyway, it was an
odd coincidence that George was away in town making inquiries about that “cure” business – and very awkward for me afterwards. I wouldn’t have mentioned it to George at all – he’s terribly jealous and I knew he’d be furious about it – but Roscoe was smoking a cigarette and he came into the caravan with it, and as George and I don’t smoke I knew he’d realize someone had been there. So I had to tell him, and he was mad, as I knew he would be – he rushed straight off to the phone box, and warned Roscoe to keep away.’
‘Good heavens, Eve, I’m not surprised. And I don’t blame him in the least … Eve, I am sorry.’
‘Well, it wasn’t your fault, was it? Anyway, it was a lot of fuss about very little – nothing really happened, except that Roscoe got a bit fresh and I had to tell him to behave himself. I must say he’s got the most colossal nerve! I didn’t tell George he’d got fresh, of course, or he wouldn’t have been content just to telephone … ! What’s the matter with the man – hasn’t he got a girl of his own?’
‘Apparently not’ Sally said, ‘though he obviously ought to have – he’s a positive menace … It isn’t the first time this sort of thing’s happened, you know. John and I got very worried about him and Kira a few days ago – she’s our nice Norwegian girl – and John had to speak to him about it Now it looks as though he’s switched to you. He told us he was thinking of taking a wife – but I’m afraid he’s just a wolf.’
Eve smiled. ‘Well, he’d better not try to take George’s wife unless he’s looking for trouble! George is a kind old thing at heart but he’d beat the brains out of anyone he caught making a pass at me. He was brought up rough and tough, and I’m afraid he’s still not very civilized …’
‘It’s Roscoe who isn’t civilized,’ Sally said bitterly.
Eve gave her a puzzled look. ‘I agree, I think he’s a terrible man – but as he’s a guest in your house and a friend of yours …’ She broke off. ‘Well, it’s a bit difficult.’
‘He’s not a friend,’ Sally said. ‘He’s much more than that – and much less …’ In a few words, she told Eve about the rescue incident and all that had followed it.
Eve listened, fascinated. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘that really is a story … Now things are beginning to make sense … You know, George and I simply couldn’t make out how Roscoe fitted into the picture – we were absolutely baffled. You and your husband seemed so charming and gentle, and we both thought Roscoe was a shocker – frightfully good-looking, of course, at least I thought so, but the way he behaved …! You should have heard George on the subject that first night – he was really livid about that crack that Roscoe made … I’m not surprised, either – it was a bit much, coming from a complete stranger … Roscoe must be an extraordinary person.’
‘We can’t make him out at all,’ Sally said. ‘Sometimes he seems quite normal – and other times he behaves like a particularly nasty delinquent. It’s terribly worrying.’
‘I should think so … What are you going to do about him?’
‘Oh, we’re going to tell him he’ll have to go. We’d have done it before, but the thing is, he did save me and Tony, nothing can alter that – and John’s so very conscientious …’
‘Heavens!’ Eve said. ‘How conscientious can you get?’
Chapter Ten
But now even Mellanby’s patience was at an end. For sheer reckless impudence he had rarely heard anything to beat Roscoe’s latest escapade. The other incidents had been disturbing enough, but this was really going too far. As soon as Sally told him the news he mentally gave Roscoe one more night. He would speak to him that evening, he decided, and ask him to leave first thing in the morning.
Then something rather confusing happened. When Roscoe returned shortly after six he sought Mellanby out and humbly apologized for his behaviour of the previous day. He said that the angry telephone call had been from Sherston, and explained why it had been made. He said that he’d called at the caravan on impulse and was now thoroughly ashamed of himself. He realized that he’d behaved abominably in his host’s house – indeed, that he’d been behaving badly for some time – and he was ashamed of that, too. He knew it didn’t excuse him, but the fact was he’d been under a good deal of strain since he’d left the Army, worrying about how he was going to make a living. Things had got him down a bit – but from now on he’d try to do better. His manner was so chastened, his attitude so different from what it had been, that Mellanby – with some misgivings – felt he had no alternative but to wait a little longer and see what happened.
He was glad next morning that he’d done so, for the change of heart seemed genuine. Through the next two days, Roscoe’s behaviour was impeccable. He was kind to the children, gentle to Kira, and as polite and considerate as anyone could wish. The sense of strain departed from the house. Relations, if not exactly cordial, were at least amicable again. Mellanby was able to concentrate on his work once more without anxiety. Eve, whom Sally had invited to tea on a return visit, said she could only suppose that Roscoe had been brought to his senses by George’s sharp warning. Whatever the reason she was glad for Sally’s sake that things had been patched up. When, next day, the Mellanbys gave the Sherstons lunch at a little restaurant near the Pump Room, the talk was scarcely at all of Roscoe, and almost entirely of Bath. George Sherston had been most impressed by the Roman remains they’d seen, and Mellanby, riding his hobby horse, was only too happy to discuss them. Altogether, he got on very well with Sherston. He liked his vigorous enthusiasms, and found his outspoken manner most refreshing.
Next morning a letter arrived for Roscoe – the first he’d received at the Mellanby house. The contents were evidently not to his liking, for he looked very glum during breakfast and went off in the Humber afterwards with scarcely a word. When he returned in the evening he was still brooding, and as soon as dinner was over he asked Mellanby if they could have a private talk. Mellanby took him along to the study and gave him a chair. ‘What’s worrying you?’ he asked.
‘Well, old man,’ Roscoe said, ‘it seems as though I’ll have to take you up on that offer of a loan, after all.’
Mellanby looked at him in surprise. ‘You mean you’ve found a place that suits you?’
‘No, I haven’t found anything – and unless I can raise some money quickly I’ll have to give up the whole idea.’
‘Why, what’s the trouble?’
‘Well, the fact is, I owe quite a bit,’ Roscoe said. ‘I hoped the chap would wait and take it a little at a time when the farm started to pay, but instead of that he’s dunning me for the whole lot right away … That was the happy news I got in that letter this morning.’
There was a little silence. Then Mellanby said, ‘How much do you owe?’
‘Oh – a thousand or two …’ Roscoe gave a rueful grin. ‘Well, more than that, actually. I suppose I’d better come clean with you … Seven thousand pounds.’
Mellanby stared at him. ‘That’s a lot of money.’
‘You’re telling me, old man …! Still, it wouldn’t be a lot to you, would it? I mean, you’re obviously well-heeled.’
‘It’s a lot of money by any standards,’ Mellanby said.
Roscoe gave a shrug. ‘I’m told you’ve given much more than that to charity – everyone I’ve talked to in the town speaks very highly of your generosity … Well, surely I’m a more deserving cause than any charity?’
Mellanby said nothing.
‘Look,’ Roscoe said, ‘let me put it this way … If you’d known you could save your wife and child from drowning by paying seven thousand pounds beforehand, you’d have paid it, wouldn’t you, like a shot?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Well, as it happens, they were saved first and now you have the chance of settling afterwards. You owe me for two lives. You’ve talked a great deal about gratitude. Okay – this is the pay-off.’
Mellanby looked hard at him. The change of heart was clearly over. Here was the old, offensive Roscoe back again – but this time there was some
thing new as well. The whole situation, Mellanby felt was beginning to take a rather ugly turn.
‘You put things very bluntly,’ he said.
‘I’ve got to put things bluntly. Unless I can raise this money, I’m sunk. You promised to help me, and I need help. I’m claiming it as a right.’
Mellanby took out his pipe, and lit it and puffed away quietly while he considered the position. Finally he said, ‘All right Roscoe – I’ll be equally blunt. I accept that I have an obligation – a big one. It’s been weighing on me quite a bit. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to discharge it. If you’d come to me, as I hoped you would, and said that you’d found the farm you’d been looking for and needed a few thousands to put you on your feet there, I’d have been glad to help. I still want to help – but I’d like to be quite sure I’ll be doing you some real good.’
‘Surely I’m the best judge of that?’
‘Even so, I’d like to know a bit more …’
‘You mean you want to pry into my affairs?’
Mellanby gave a slightly sardonic smile. ‘You’re asking me for a present of seven thousand pounds – don’t you think perhaps I’m entitled to put a friendly question or two?’
‘As long as they’re friendly. I don’t like unfriendly questions …!’ The old note of truculence was back. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Well – who do you owe this money to?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It matters to me.’
‘All right,’ Roscoe said sulkily. ‘If you must know, he’s a colonel in the RE – or was. Chap named Lancaster. He’s retired now. Lives in London.’
‘Would you think it prying if I asked you how you came to borrow so much money?’