Read May We Borrow Your Husband? for Free Online Page B

Earl of Rochester. What did I care about Dornford Yates, Hugh Walpole or Sir Charles Snow? I was even in the mood to recite to her, hopelessly inapposite to the situation though the lines were:
    Then talk not of Inconstancy,
    False Hearts, and broken Vows;
    If I, by Miracle, can be
    This live-long Minute true to thee,
    â€™Tis all that Heav’n allows
    when the noise – what a noise! – of the Sprite approaching brought us both to our feet. It was only too true that all that heaven allowed was the time in the bar at Antibes.
    Tony was singing; we heard him all the way up the Boulevard Général Leclerc; Stephen was driving with the greatest caution, most of the time in second gear, and Peter, as we saw when we came out on to the terrace, was sitting on Tony’s knee – nestling would be a better description – and joining in the refrain. All I could make out was
    â€˜Round and white
    On a winter’s night,
    The hope of the Queen’s Navee.’
    If they hadn’t seen us on the steps I think they would have driven past the hotel without noticing.
    â€˜You are tight,’ the girl said with pleasure. Tony put his arm round her and ran her up to the top of the steps. ‘Be careful,’ she said, ‘William’s made me tight too.’
    â€˜Good old William.’
    Stephen climbed carefully out of the car and sank down on the nearest chair.
    â€˜All well?’ I asked, not knowing what I meant.
    â€˜The children have been very happy,’ he said, ‘and very, very relaxed.’
    â€˜Got to go to the loo,’ Peter said (the cue was in the wrong place), and made for the stairs. The girl gave him a helping hand and I heard him say, ‘Wonderful day. Wonderful scenery. Wonderful . . .’ She turned at the top of the stairs and swept us with her smile, gay, reassured, happy. As on the first night, when they had hesitated about the cocktail, they didn’t come down again. There was a long silence and then Tony chuckled. ‘You seem to have had a wonderful day,’ I said.
    â€˜Dear William, we’ve done a very good action. You’ve never seen him so détendu .’
    Stephen sat saying nothing; I had the impression that today hadn’t gone quite so well for him. Can people ever hunt quite equally in couples or is there always a loser? The too-grey waves of hair were as immaculate as ever, there was no contusion on the cheek, but I had the impression that the fear of the future had cast a long shadow.
    â€˜I suppose you mean you got him drunk?’
    â€˜Not with alcohol,’ Tony said. ‘We aren’t vulgar seducers, are we, Stephen?’ But Stephen made no reply.
    â€˜Then what was your good action?’
    â€˜ Le pauvre petit Pierre. He was in such a state. He had quite convinced himself – or perhaps she had convinced him – that he was impuissant .’
    â€˜You seem to be making a lot of progress in French.’
    â€˜It sounds more delicate in French.’
    â€˜And with your help he found he wasn’t?’
    â€˜After a little virginal timidity. Or near virginal. School hadn’t left him quite unmoved. Poor Poopy. She just hadn’t known the right way to go about things. My dear, he has a superb virility. Where are you going, Stephen?’
    â€˜I’m going to bed,’ Stephen said flatly, and went up the steps alone. Tony looked after him, I thought with a kind of tender regret, a very light and superficial sorrow. ‘His rheumatism came back very badly this afternoon,’ he said. ‘Poor Stephen.’
    I thought it was well then to go to bed before I should become ‘Poor William’ too. Tony’s charity tonight was all-embracing.
    8
    It was the first morning for a long time that I found myself alone on the terrace for breakfast. The women in tweed skirts had been gone for some days, and I had never before known ‘the young men’ to be absent.