Grave Mistake

I’ll put the whole thing aside, she thought, until tomorrow. I’ll sleep on it.

But when she came through the lime trees she met Prunella Foster streaking hot-foot up the drive.

IV

Prunella was breathless, a condition that did nothing to improve her audibility. She gazed at her godmother and flapped her hands in a manner that reminded Verity of her mother.

‘Godma,’ she whispered, ‘are you alone?’

‘Utterly,’ said Verity.

‘Could I talk to you?’

‘If you can contrive to make yourself heard, darling, of course you may?’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Prunella, who was accustomed to this admonishment. ‘I will try.’

‘Have you walked here?’

‘Gideon dropped me. He’s in the lane. Waiting.’

‘Come indoors. I wanted to see you.’

Prunella opened her eyes very wide and they went indoors where without more ado she flung her arms round her godmother’s neck, almost shouted the information that she was engaged to be married, and burst into excitable tears.

‘My dear child!’ said Verity. ‘What an odd way to announce it. Aren’t you pleased to be engaged?’

A confused statement followed during which it emerged Prunella was very much in love with Gideon but was afraid he might not continue to be as much in love with her as now appeared because one saw that sort of thing happening all over the place, didn’t one, and she knew if it happened to her she wouldn’t be able to keep her cool and put it into perspective and she had only consented to an engagement because Gideon promised that for him it was for keeps but how could one be sure he knew what he was talking about?

She then blew her nose and said that she was fantastically happy.

Verity was fond of her god-daughter and pleased that she wanted to confide in her. She sensed that there was more to come.

And so there was.

‘It’s about Mummy,’ Prunella said. ‘She’s going to be livid.’

‘But why?’

‘Well, first of all she’s a roaring snob and wants me to marry John Swingletree because he’s a peer. Imagine!’

‘I don’t know John Swingletree.’

‘The more lucky, you. The bottom. And then, you see, she’s got one of her things about Gideon and his papa. She thinks they’ve sprung from a mid-European ghetto.’

‘None the worse for that,’ said Verity.

‘Exactly. But you know what she is. It’s partly because Mr Markos didn’t exactly make a big play for her at that dinner-party when they first came to Mardling. You know,’ Prunella repeated, ‘what she is. Well, don’t you, Godma?’

There being no way out of it, Verity said she supposed she did.

‘Not,’ Prunella said, ‘that she’s all that hooked on him. Not now. She’s all for the doctor at Greengages – you remember? Wasn’t he an ex-buddy of yours, or something?’

‘Not really.’

‘Well, anyway, she’s in at the deep end, boots and all. Potty about him. I do so wish,’ Prunella said as her large eyes refilled with tears, ‘I didn’t have to have a mum like that. Not that I don’t love her.’

‘Never mind.’

‘And now I’ve got to tell her. About Gideon and me.’

‘How do you think of managing that? Going to Greengages? Or writing?’

‘Whatever I do she’ll go ill at me and say I’ll be sorry when she’s gone. Gideon’s offered to come too. He’s all for taking bulls by the horns. But I don’t want him to see what she can be like if she cuts up rough. You know, don’t you? If anything upsets her applecart when she’s nervy it can be a case of screaming hysterics. Can’t it?’

‘Well –’

‘You know it can. I’d hate him to see her like that. Darling, darling Godma V, I was wondering –’

Verity thought, She can’t help being a bit like her mother, and was not surprised when Prunella said she had just wondered if Verity was going to visit her mother and if she did whether she’d kind of prepare the way.

‘I hadn’t thought of going. I really am busy, Prue.’

‘Oh,’ said Prunella, falling back on her whisper and looking desolate. ‘Yes. I see.’

‘In any case, shouldn’t you and Gideon go together and Gideon – well –’

‘Ask for my hand in marriage like Jack Worthing and Lady Bracknell?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s what he says. Darling Godma V,’ said Prunella, once more hanging herself round Verity’s neck, ‘if we took you with us and you just sort of – you know – first. Couldn’t you? We’ve come all the way from London just this minute almost, to ask. She pays more attention to you than anybody. Please.’

‘Oh, Prue.’

‘You will? I can see you’re going to. And you can’t possibly refuse when I tell you my other hideous news. Not that Gideon-and-me is hideous but just you wait.’

‘Charmless Claude?’

‘You knew! I rang up Quintern from Mardling and Mrs Jim told me. Isn’t it abysmal? When we all thought he was safely stowed in Aussie.’

‘Are you staying tonight?’

‘There! With Claudie-boy? Not on your Nelly. I’m going to Mardling. Mr Markos is back and we’ll tell him about us. He’ll be super about it. I ought to go.’

‘May I come to the car and meet your young man?’

‘Oh, you mustn’t trouble to do that. He’ll come,’ Prunella said. She put a thumb and finger between her teeth, leant out of the window and emitted a piercing whistle. A powerful engine started up in the lane, a rakish sports model shot through the drive in reverse and pulled up at the front door. Gideon Markos leapt out.