Out of the Past

CHAPTER 3

Esther Field sat by the window and fanned herself. They were in the morning-room, which was the coolest room in the house. She had left her knitting in the hall, but the climb up the cliff path had heated her. She was worried too, because after the first shock of surprise she could see very well that Alan had put them all in a very difficult position by coming here. He really had no business to walk in on them like this. The more she thought about it, the less she liked it and the surer she was that it really wouldn’t do. James wouldn’t like it-not after the way Alan had treated Carmona. He couldn’t be expected to, though she wasn’t sure how much he really knew. Husbands and wives didn’t always tell each other everything. Even Pen-

Her thought jerked back to Alan. What he ought to have done was to stay at the flat and ring her up from there. Emily would have looked after him.

Alan laughed and said,

“Well, old dear? Where have you got to-‘He really oughtn’t to have given us a shock like this’? Yes, I guessed as much. I can generally see through you. Well, I always was a bit funny, you know. When I think of a thing, I like to do it right away.”

In spite of continued fanning Esther’s high flush persisted. She said quite simply,

“You oughtn’t to have come here.”

He made an airy gesture.

“Because Carmona and I were once engaged and very sensibly didn’t get married? Really, darling-we’re not Victorians!”

She said again, “You ought not to have come. Why did you come back from South America?”

He smiled.

“I told you-to go through my father’s papers for that man Murgatroyd. Though I don’t expect you to believe that it’s all filial piety, because of course it isn’t. I can’t really afford that sort of thing-at least not free gratis and for nothing. But if there’s going to be a boom, I’ve at least as much right to be in on it as anyone else.”

The brown eyes which were Esther Field’s best feature gazed at him doubtfully.

“But, Alan, Mr. Murgatroyd wouldn’t be buying the letters. People don’t do that when they are writing a biography.”

“Quite right-they don’t. But there might be money in it all the same.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You will, all in good time. You see, I’ve got to have money. One can’t, unfortunately, get on without it. And as it is, I’ve got a chance of a really good thing. If it comes off, I’ll be made for life and no more trouble to anyone. But I’ve got to have a sprat to catch my whale with.”

Esther went on looking at him.

“What has all this got to do with your father’s papers?”

“Everything or nothing, according to how things turn out. It mightn’t be necessary to bring them into it. It all rather depends-”

“On what?”

He produced one of his most charming smiles.

“On you. Just what are you prepared to do about it, darling?”

“I?”

“Yes, you. It’s quite simple, you know. I didn’t get much out of my father’s estate-did I?”

“You got all there was, Alan.”

“I know, I know-there were only a few hundreds, and you let me have them. The money was yours-you needn’t rub it in.”

“You had already had your own mother’s money. Has it all gone?”

“Every sou, darling. What could you expect?”

She had known what the answer would be. To Alan money was something to spend. Whatever she gave him today would be gone tomorrow. He could charm her heart, which Pen used to tell her was as soft as butter, but she came of a long line of shrewd business men to whom money meant something to save, and he couldn’t altogether charm her head. She said,

“I’m afraid I gave up expecting you to be sensible a long time ago.”

He nodded.

“I’ve been a fool, darling-you needn’t tell me that. But this thing is a cert. Listen and I’ll tell you about it. It’s this horse-breeding business. I’ve been working with a chap called Cardozo. We get on like a house on fire. He’s got a small ranch and he’s been doing very well. Now he’s got a chance to take over a much larger place-going concern, good stock, good water supply-everything just right. He’s prepared to put up two thirds of the capital, and he’ll take me in as a partner, if I can find the rest. It’s the chance of a lifetime.”

“And how much would you have to find?”

“Oh, three or four thousand. Cardozo hopes he may get the owner down a bit, but even if he has to pay the full price it will be dirt cheap.”

Esther Field had stopped fanning herself. She didn’t feel hot any more. She had never liked saying no to Alan, but she was in no doubt that that was what she must do. In so far as she could help him out of income she would do so. But capital was a different matter. It had come from her own family, and it must go to Carmona and Carmona’s children. She said in her kind voice,

“Oh, my dear, I don’t see what can be done about that-I don’t really.”

“Don’t you? Well, I do. This is my chance, and I’m not going to miss it.” His voice, which had hardened, melted suddenly. “You know, old dear, you’d never regret it. The thing is an absolute dead cert and I’d pay you back-say five hundred a year after the first two years. Interest too if you like. Come now, I can’t say fairer than that. What about it?”

Esther Field looked away. If she had been another kind of woman she might have been angry. As it was, she only felt ashamed. Did he really think that she or anyone else could believe that he would pay the money back? He was Pen’s son, and she had loved them both very much. He had ease, charm, grace, and the caressing ways which mean so much to a woman, but she had known for years that he was not to be trusted. And the money wasn’t hers. She regarded herself as holding it in trust for Carmona and her children. She hoped very much that Carmona would have children.

Watching her, he was aware that he had failed. These large, soft women were only easy up to a point. There was a hard core of resistance, and when you came up against it you were done. All right, if she wanted it that way she could have it. He took out a packet of cigarettes, lit one, and pushed the packet back into his pocket.

“As you see, my case is gone. Candidly, I had to pawn it to get my train fare.”

“Alan-”

“It’s true.”

It might be, or it might not. She said,

“I can let you have enough to be going on with until you can find something to do.”

“My dear Esther, I have found something to do. I mean to do it. But I’ve got to have some capital. If you won’t help me, I must get it elsewhere. There’s the life of my father. With the material I can give this chap Murgatroyd it will have a very good chance of being a best seller. Without that material-well, I suppose the libraries will take a certain number of copies and Murgatroyd will have something to put in his pocket. But you know how it is-biographies are dull.” He blew out a little cloud of smoke. “They are damned dull because all the interesting parts are left out. But if they weren’t left out-if the public could buy the true story of who pulled the strings which made the great man work, and just why he did this, that, and the other-especially the other- don’t you think the book would boom?”

Esther turned a bewildered look upon him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t worry-I’m going to explain. In words of one syllable if necessary. To put it quite clearly, darling, my father kept a number of letters which he might more discreetly have destroyed. They constitute what I think the Press would call ‘a revealing correspondence.’ I feel they would make any book a best seller, and I don’t see why Murgatroyd should be the one to cash in on that. But I’m willing to go fifty-fifty with him, and if you ask me, that’s a pretty generous offer. There’ll be an advance, and there’ll be royalties. If he agrees to my terms he can go through the papers and take what he likes. If he doesn’t agree, I’ll publish the letters myself and scoop the lot.”

Esther Field sat in a stunned silence. The smoke of his cigarette hung in the air. After the sun-drenched brightness on the other side of the house the room seemed dark. Alan stood in front of the black mantelpiece with the ebony carving above it. He looked confident and assured. His fair hair shone. If there were lines about the eyes and lips which had not been there three years ago, this shaded light was kind to them. She looked at him, and looked away.

“You can’t!”

“Oh, yes, I can. You gave me a power of attorney, you know, after my father died-when you were ill.”

“I can revoke it.”

His bluff had been called. He had not reckoned on her knowing that. He made a light gesture with his cigarette and said in a laughing voice,

“Well, darling, the one thing which would make the whole affair go with a bigger and better bang would be a legal struggle between us as to the ownership of the papers. You see, even if you got the originals, I should have had copies made, and anyhow I’d have read them, and I have a pretty good memory. You wouldn’t be able to prevent the facts from- how do they put it-transpiring. So you see, it’s no go unless you are prepared to hand over the money yourself.”

Esther’s mind had not followed him. It had remained fixed upon Pen’s letters. What could there be in them that she did not know? They had been happy together. He had had his moods, his struggles, his torments of the imagination. Artists were like that, up one day and down the next. They needed someone to rest them, someone who would just go on being the same. Security-yes, that was the word-they needed someone who could give them the sense of security. That was what she had been able to do for Pen. Nobody could take it away from her. She remembered how he used to look at her with that queer twisted smile of his and say, “You’re a comfortable woman, Esther.”

Her eyes had returned to Alan. Sometimes he looked so like Pen that it hurt. She said, labouring to find words,

“But, Alan-you couldn’t-do a thing like that. Not your father’s private letters. I don’t know what they are-or when they were written. I suppose he may have written a great many letters he wouldn’t have wished to see published. He was always very attractive-to women-and they wrote to him. He didn’t make any secret of it, only of course he didn’t tell me their names-only that it was a lot of silly stuff, and he wondered why there had to be so many fools in the world. He used to laugh and tear the letters up and put the pieces in the fire. I shouldn’t have thought he would have kept-any of them.”

“Well, he kept the ones I am talking about. And I can tell you something, he didn’t laugh at them. He kept them, and he answered them.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the answers are there. The whole correspondence is there-his letters and hers. I suppose she didn’t dare to keep them herself, and she couldn’t bear to destroy them.”

Esther Field said, “She?” And then quickly, “No, don’t tell me! I don’t want to know! Don’t tell me anything!”

He laughed as if he were amused.

“My dear, you won’t be able to help knowing-when the letters are published. If they are published! They needn’t be of course. I don’t exactly want to hurt your feelings. I’d much rather let sleeping dogs lie and get the money some other way.” He turned to look at the clock on the mantelshelf, a monumental affair in the same black marble, with a blue face and squat gold hands. “Half past six! How time runs away in these family reunions! What time do you dine?”

Esther said mechanically,

“It’s cold supper at eight.”

“All right. Then I think I’d better drop in on Darsie and see if she can put me up. If not, it’ll have to be the Anchor-that is, unless Carmona can be induced to change her mind.”

Esther’s flush had faded. She looked as if her thoughts were far away, but at the sound of Carmona’s name she roused a little.

“No, no, you can’t stay here-it wouldn’t do at all-”

“What-with three chaperones!”

Her voice shook as she said,

“It wouldn’t do. You ought not to have suggested it. Go and see whether Darsie can take you in. I have about fifteen pounds in the house-I could let you have that to go on with. And then something can be arranged.”

He smiled benignly.

“Of course it can. And you’re not to worry-it will work out all right. Things always do if you take them the right way. Well, I’ll be seeing you!” He blew her a kiss and went out of the room.

She heard the hall door shut, and saw him go past the window with a suit-case in his hand. The gloom of the room closed round her.