“Oh yes, I daresay, it’s natural. They were devoted to Audrey, weren’t they?” Her voice shook a little. “Dear, well-bred, cool, colourless Audrey! Camilla’s not forgiven me for taking her place.”
Nevile did not turn. His voice was lifeless, dull. He said: “After all, Camilla’s old—past seventy. Her generation doesn’t really like divorce, you know. On the whole I think she’s accepted the position very well considering how fond she was of—of Audrey.”
His voice changed just a little as he spoke the name.
“They think you treated her badly.”
“So I did,” said Nevile under his breath, but his wife heard.
“Oh Nevile—don’t be so stupid. Just because she chose to make such a frightful fuss.”
“She didn’t make a fuss. Audrey never made fusses.”
“Well, you know what I mean. Because she went away and was ill, and went about everywhere looking brokenhearted. That’s what I call a fuss! Audrey’s not what I call a good loser. From my point of view if a wife can’t hold her husband she ought to give him up gracefully! You two had nothing in common. She never played a game and was as anaemic and washed up as—as a dish rag. No life or go in her! If she really cared about you, she ought to have thought about your happiness first and been glad you were going to be happy with someone more suited to you.”
Nevile turned. A faintly sardonic smile played around his lips.
“What a little sportsman! How to play the game in love and matrimony!”
Kay laughed and reddened.
“Well, perhaps I was going a bit too far. But at any rate once the thing had happened, there it was. You’ve got to accept these things!”
Nevile said quietly:
“Audrey accepted it. She divorced me so that you and I could marry.”
“Yes, I know—” Kay hesitated.
Nevile said: “You’ve never understood Audrey.”
“No, I haven’t. In a way, Audrey gives me the creeps. I don’t know what it is about her. You never know what she’s thinking…She’s—she’s a little frightening.”
“Oh, nonsense, Kay.”
“Well, she frightens me. Perhaps it’s because she’s got brains.”
“My lovely nitwit!”
Kay laughed.
“You always call me that!”
“Because it’s what you are!”
They smiled at each other. Nevile came over to her and, bending down, kissed the back of her neck.
“Lovely, lovely Kay,” he murmured.
“Very good Kay,” said Kay. “Giving up a lovely yachting trip to go and be snubbed by her husband’s prim Victorian relations.”
Nevile went back and sat down by the table.
“You know,” he said. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t go on that trip with Shirty if you really want to so much.”
Kay sat up in astonishment.
“And what about Saltcreek and Gull’s Point?”
Nevile said in a rather unnatural voice:
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t go there early in September.”
“Oh, but Nevile, surely—” She stopped.
“We can’t go in July and August because of the Tournaments,” said Nevile. “But we’d finish up at St. Loo the last week in August, and it would fit in very well if we went on to Saltcreek from there.”
“Oh, it would fit in all right—beautifully. But I thought—well, she always goes there for September, doesn’t she?”
“Audrey, you mean?”
“Yes. I suppose they could put her off, but—”
“Why should they put her off?”
Kay stared at him dubiously.
“You mean, we’d be there at the same time? What an extraordinary idea.”
Nevile said irritably:
“I don’t think it’s at all an extraordinary idea. Lots of people do it nowadays. Why shouldn’t we all be friends together? It makes things so much simpler. Why, you said so yourself only the other day.”
“I did?”
“Yes, don’t you remember? We were talking about the Howes, and you said it was the sensible civilized way to look at things, and that Leonard’s new wife and his Ex were the best of friends.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind. I do think it’s sensible. But—well, I don’t think Audrey would feel like that about it.”
“Nonsense.”
“It isn’t nonsense. You know, Nevile, Audrey really was terribly fond of you…I don’t think she’d stand it for a moment.”
“You’re quite wrong, Kay. Audrey thinks it would be quite a good thing.”
“Audrey—what do you mean, Audrey thinks? How do you know what Audrey thinks?”
Nevile looked slightly embarrassed. He cleared his throat a little self-consciously.
“As a matter of fact, I happened to run into her yesterday when I was up in London.”
“You never told me.”
Nevile said irritably:
“I’m telling you now. It was absolute chance. I was walking across the Park and there she was coming towards me. You wouldn’t want me to run away from her, would you?”
“No, of course not,” said Kay, staring. “Go on.”
“I—we—well, we stopped, of course, and then I turned round and walked with her. I—I felt it was the least I could do.”
“Go on,” said Kay.
“And then we sat down on a couple of chairs and talked. She was very nice—very nice indeed.”
“Delightful for you,” said Kay.
“And we got talking, you know, about one thing and another. She was quite natural and normal and—and all that.”
“Remarkable!” said Kay.
“And she asked how you were—”
“Very kind of her!”
“And we talked about you for a bit. Really, Kay, she couldn’t have been nicer.”
“Darling Audrey!”
“And then it sort of came to me—you know—how nice it would be if—if you two could be friends—if we could all get together. And it occurred to me that perhaps we might manage it at Gull’s Point this summer. Sort of place it could happen quite naturally.”
“You thought of that?”
“I—well—yes, of course. It was all my idea.”
“You’ve never said anything to me about having any such idea.”
“Well, I only happened to think of it just then.”
“I see. Anyway, you suggested it and Audrey thought it was a marvellous brainwave?”
For the first time, something in Kay’s manner seemed to penetrate to Nevile’s consciousness.
He said:
“Is anything the matter, gorgeous?”
“Oh no, nothing! Nothing at all! It didn’t occur to you or Audrey whether I should think it a marvellous idea?”
Nevile stared at her.
“But, Kay, why on earth should you mind?”
Kay bit her lip.
Nevile went on:
“You said yourself only the other day—”
“Oh, don’t go into all that again! I was talking about other people—not us.”
“But that’s partly what made me think of it.”
“More fool me. Not that I believe that.”