drive was observed by Lydia from her bedroom window, as she sat brushing her hair at the dressing-table. There he was, that strange brother-in-law of hers she had never understood nor greatly liked. She could not help reflecting how much more convenient it would have been if he had died in the war. Lydia would have been happy to pay tribute to him then. James valiantly deceased would have earned her fond praises. James stubbornly and inconsiderately alive was a beast of quite a different stripe.
She turned at the sound of the door opening behind her. Ashley, shaved and washed, had returned from the bathroom, ready for his early start for Paris –
their
early start, that was, his and James’s.
‘Your brother’s already been out,’ she said, signalling with atwitch of her eyebrows her bemusement at the doings and purposes of James Maxted. ‘I’ve just seen him coming back – from a walk, presumably.’
‘Perhaps he couldn’t sleep,’ said Ashley. ‘I didn’t have a restful night myself.’
‘Are you worried, darling?’
‘I wouldn’t be, if Mother had had the good sense to send me alone.’
‘What is she thinking of by involving James?’
‘What is she
ever
thinking of?’ Ashley sighed and patted Lydia’s shoulder. ‘I wish I knew.’
‘You must keep James on a tight rein in Paris, darling. We don’t want him … stirring anything up.’
‘Indeed we don’t. But I believe I have the means to ensure he doesn’t.’
‘You’re not seriously considering letting him proceed with this flying school nonsense?’
‘Good God, no. Pa should never have agreed to such a half-baked proposal. I haven’t the least intention of allowing James to turn good agricultural land into an aerodrome. But nor do I intend to tell him that – just yet.’
‘After the funeral, perhaps?’
‘Yes. That’s exactly what I was thinking. After we’ve brought Pa home and buried him. That’ll be the time to tell James how matters stand. Until then, I’m hopeful he’ll be on his … best behaviour.’
‘You are clever, darling.’
‘Not clever, my dear. Merely … practical.’
As Max crossed the hall, bound for the dining-room, where he supposed breakfast would be waiting for him, he noticed that the door to the library was open. His mother stepped out through it to greet him.
‘Good morning, James,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you have a moment?’
‘Of course, Mother.’
He followed her into the library. The room faced east and wasnormally one of the darkest in the house. Only at this hour was sunlight, albeit of a watery variety, flooding through the high bay window at the far end. Lady Maxted walked towards it and came to a halt by the massive floor-standing globe that was one of the more memorable fixtures of Gresscombe Place.
‘When you were a child, the globe was always at this angle,’ she said, laying her hand on a gleaming curve of the north-western Pacific Ocean.
‘Really?’ Max joined her beside it and realized that it was true. He had regularly turned the globe and peered at the islands of the Japanese archipelago and wondered what his birthplace was like. He shrugged. ‘Well, it’s strange to have been born somewhere one has no memory or knowledge of.’
‘We lived in Japan for two years. I assure you I had little more knowledge of the country at the end of that time than I had at the beginning.’
‘But you remember it.’
‘Increasingly, my memories seem like recollected dreams. Spring blossom so bright it hurt my eyes. A deafening chorus of frogs after heavy rain. Junks bobbing on the water. Winking cages of fireflies on a market stall. Ghost-moths thumping against the window-screens on hot summer nights. Really, what does any of that amount to? Impressions, nothing more. And even they are fading.’
‘I should like to go there one day.’
‘Then I’m sure you will. You do as you please, James. You always have.’
‘Are you praising me or rebuking me,