The Death of Corinne

17

The Fool of Love

Antonia entered the billiard room, doing her best to appear as calm and normal as possible. She watched her husband play a shot and miss rather an easy cannon off the red. Major Payne made an impatient gesture and grumbled that it was too damned hot in the room, didn’t they think? Impossible to concentrate. His face was very red and he had an expression like thunder. Antonia guessed that he had been losing game after game to Jonson… Hugh was not a particularly gracious loser. The squabbles they had over Scrabble! He seemed bent on revenge. Both men were in their shirtsleeves, facing each other across the billiard table, holding up their cues, scowling – like duellists en garde, Antonia thought.

Lady Grylls was sunk in one of the two dark leather button-backed chairs by the fireplace. She had a black silk Chinese shawl embroidered with dragons around her shoulders. She was eating chocolates out of a circular box embellished with mauve orchids and lavender silk ribbons, sipping brandy from a balloon glass and smoking through a long jet-black holder. A gold ribbed cigarette case with pave sapphires lay on the round table beside her chair. She had a stately and somewhat decadent air about her – rather as if she taught etiquette on a pirate ship, Antonia thought.

Lady Grylls had been telling her nephew and Jonson how she could have become Princess Philip of Greece. That was back in 1946, the year before Philip had married the Queen. Lady Grylls hadn’t been married either – she’d been a mere Hon. They had met during an extremely dull shooting party. Philip had been jolly keen, but she hadn’t reciprocated his ardour. Still, she had been fascinated by his turbulent family history and strange genetic heritage. His grandfather had been assassinated, his father exiled, his mother had become a nun and had then been consigned to a lunatic asylum, at least one of his sisters had married a Nazi. ‘When we met again a couple of years ago he thought I was somebody else.’ Lady Grylls sighed.

It was quarter past eleven. They had been having coffee – a tray with three ultra-thin porcelain cups, red with gold borders, and a silver pot stood on a side table. Antonia had heard Lady Grylls describe the new brand of coffee her suppliers sent her as ‘rich and dark as the Aga Khan’, which, she gathered, had been a non-PC advertising slogan from Lady Grylls’s youth.

‘Hugh, I’d like a word.’ Antonia tried to smile. ‘I do apologize, but it’s important.’

‘Ah, the little secrets of the newly-weds… A chocolate, my dear? The violet creams are particularly heavenly.’ Lady Grylls proffered the box but Antonia declined. ‘You are on a diet, admit it!’ Lady Grylls cried gleefully.

Payne put down his cue. ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy. I haven’t finished with you yet,’ he told Jonson. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked Antonia.

‘Wait,’ she mouthed.

Up in their room she said, ‘I found it. The photograph. It was in Jonson’s case. He did bring it with him.’

Major Payne looked scandalized. ‘You ransacked Jonson’s room?’

‘I didn’t ransack his room. The photo was in his case. You won’t believe this -’

‘You don’t think it’s Corinne? Is that why you are so excited?’

‘No… It’s her all right. At least it looks like her. She has very short hair and a wig can be seen on her dressing table – it’s exactly as Jonson said.’ Antonia frowned as though for a moment something bothered her, then waved her hand. ‘That’s not it. There is a photograph on Corinne’s dressing table. A framed photograph -’

‘A photograph within the photograph? A double-edged clue, eh? Who’s in it?’

She told him. He stared at her. ‘Fancy now… A framed photograph on Corinne’s dressing table suggests a degree of intimacy. Are you sure?’

‘I am sure, yes.’ Antonia paused. ‘He looks younger but it’s him all right… When did they meet?’ The next moment she gasped. ‘Of course. The second concert. So he did tell a lie!’

‘Yes. Let’s make assurance doubly sure.’ Payne turned round and made for the door.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Going to phone my sister. She will tell us… Amanda’s always at home these days – ever since she got divorced and became an agony aunt to the great and the good.’

There was nobody in the hall. Payne walked across the parquet floor that had been recently polished by Nicholas. The portrait of the eighth Baron Grylls stared down at him disapprovingly from its momentous place at the foot of the staircase, as though to say, No scandals in our family, but Payne ignored him. His eyes fixed momentarily on the glass case above the massive fireplace, which contained a grotesquely large stuffed salmon that had been caught by the ninth Baron in the Spey in 1920, pinkish but dull, its body’s dance and sheen long gone. He walked up to the small table, where the ancient black telephone made of Bakelite stood beside a Waterford bowl filled with rose petals, and dialled his sister’s Park Lane number.

‘That you, Amanda?’

‘Hugh? Good lord. Where are you phoning from – Cap Ferrat? Shropshire? At Chalfont – nothing wrong, is there? Is Aunt Nellie all right? She hasn’t had her cataract operation yet, has she? I hope Antonia’s well – Sorry? Do I remember -? What an odd question! Of course I remember Corinne Coreille and the Albert Hall… 1969. We went together, didn’t we, me, you and Aunt Nellie… What? The second concert? Yes, I did go… Speak up, would you? Yes, it was with him – he didn’t want to go but I persuaded him… He had come down from Eton – he was staying with his parents in Kensington… Yes, we did go to see Corinne Coreille in her dressing room afterwards… Did anything happen? What do you mean? What in heaven’s name are all these questions for?’

‘Did they talk?’

‘Of course they talked. It would have been odd if they didn’t.’ A cautious note had crept into Amanda’s voice. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I have my reasons. Did anything happen? Come on, Amanda. As a matter of fact, I know something happened, I only want you to confirm it.’

‘How do you know?’

‘He told me,’ Payne said, giving Antonia a wink. ‘I didn’t believe him, that’s why I am asking you. Thought he was boasting.’

‘He told you? He swore me to absolute secrecy!’

‘Well, he said it no longer mattered – it was all such a long time ago. More than thirty years. We sat drinking last night and he suddenly came out with it. You know the way these things happen – chaps together,’ Payne went on improvising.

‘Is he at Chalfont too? He’s gone now? Oh very well.’ Amanda paused. ‘He took a wild fancy to Corinne – one of those instant things. I could tell, despite his cool exterior. He asked her out… No, Mr Lark wasn’t there. It had to be kept secret from him. He was extremely protective of Corinne, yes. I don’t know whether Mr Lark too fancied Corinne – he was a great number of years older than her – maybe he did, though it was her career he said he cared about.’

‘Did they really start seeing each other?’

‘All right. They did. He kept going to Paris. She gave him her grandmother’s phone number. She did like him too, obviously. It was so funny – the way they stood looking at each other – he so English, she so French… Did they -? All right. Pretty intimate, yes. He told me later – boasted about it. Her very first. His first too.’

‘It all came to nothing, apparently?’

‘Yes… So sad… Her career took off and the protective net around her became impenetrable. That’s why he joined the diplomatic corps and then the trend-spotting thing – to be able to travel because of her. She was travelling an awful lot, but it was no joy… Yes, he did tell me all that himself. I am very good at receiving confidences and giving advice, you know… He was devastated when -’ Amanda broke off.

‘When what?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing? Come on, Amanda.’

There was a pause. ‘He didn’t tell you that – all right – there were developments – it was all rather distressing -’

Payne listened. His brows went up. Soon after he rang off.

‘Not only did they have a relationship,’ he told Antonia,

‘but Corinne became pregnant by him. Sadly, the child was born prematurely and died. She couldn’t have any more children after that, apparently. It was all kept hush-hush. He was extremely cut up about it. You wouldn’t have thought it of him, would you? That’s why he never married. He always blamed her for having given in to Mr Lark’s bullying – for being Mr Lark’s puppet. Amanda doesn’t think they have been in touch since, but of course she may be wrong.’

‘The fact that she still keeps his photo on her dressing table suggests she probably still has feelings for him,’ Antonia said thoughtfully. ‘Jonson must have recognized him when he bumped into him here. He clearly didn’t like to be reminded.’

‘Yes.’ There was a moment’s silence, then Payne continued, ‘Must be in the blood. I mean not one but two de Brokes succumbing to the fatal charms of the French.’

Antonia said, ‘Poor Peverel.’