Cushing's Crusade Read online

  On the pavement outside his father’s block of flats, Derek’s excitement quickly subsided. With a sharp stab of apprehension he realized that, without having deliberately planned it, he was now committed to no less than an all-or-nothing attempt to destroy his wife’s affair. The full implications of this terrified him. If he pressed her too hard, mightn’t she feel forced to take drastic counter measures? Would he find, even if he succeeded, that his very success had destroyed any hope of any future with her? Panic again, and an attack of it quite as powerful as the one he had experienced in the archive room at the Institute. He stood motionless in the middle of the pavement while people jostled past him. An empty taxi was passing; he ran out into the road and hailed it. Safe inside he breathed more easily. The repetition of his terror was enough to convince him that however distressing and distasteful were the steps he might have to take, they were essential. He had to keep her; and from the moment he had decided that action was more likely to achieve this than inaction, he had without fully realizing it cut out the possibility of any half-measures.

  As the taxi reached Marble Arch it started to rain. Derek watched the drops gathering on the glass and smiled to himself. It was not hard to imagine how Charles was going to take the news; not only was he going to have to put up with Diana’s husband, he was also going to have to suffer her obsessive and unpredictable father-in-law. As time passed the art dealer would become more and more irritated and resentful, and Diana would be the only person on whom he could vent his displeasure. A successful man like Charles would be used to getting his own way and would find it very hard to tolerate such spectacularly bungled plans. Diana had probably boasted about how easy it had been to fix up a time when they could be alone together. When he got back to the flat Derek intended to write to Giles’s scout master telling him that G. A. Cushing would not after all be going with the school party to the Peak District but would instead be going to Cornwall for a family holiday.

  Derek’s only remaining problem would then be to choose the ideal time and place to inform Diana and Giles of the change of plan. He would contact Charles after that. The later they were all told, the less chance they would have of doing anything about it; the nearer Derek could make it a fait accompli, the happier he would be. Ideally Diana should be confronted with the news on an occasion which would make it very hard for her to start a violent argument. If he could survive her first reaction, Derek was confident that he would not weaken or back down. The right setting for his disclosures was clearly of vital importance.

  Chapter 5

  The Cushings turned into the narrow drive; ahead of them, sandwiched awkwardly in a small triangle of grass between two railway lines, the school buildings rose up with all the imposing grandeur of a badly designed Victorian hospital. In front of the main block, a boy with a white arm-band directed Derek to the end of a line of parked cars.

  Open Day for parents of boys at Linacre High, Wandsworth, took place on the last Friday of each summer term and was, according to the headmaster, ‘an opportunity for parents to see some of the extra-curricular activities of the boys’. Dotted around the grounds were a number of outdoor stands: Rowing Club appeal stand‚ Gliding Club, Archery Club and so on. Derek glanced at his wife and saw her sour and disapproving look. Diana’s educational views had been that if Giles could not go to one of the half-dozen academically orientated public schools, and Derek’s salary had ruled this out, the boy ought to have attended the local comprehensive. Giles had not done so because the science side had been so bad there. Instead he had been sent to Linacre, a direct-grant establishment with minor-public-school pretensions that made Diana cringe.

  Giles’s contribution to Open Day was the Geology Exhibition, which he had set up with the help of two other boys. His parents found him in an almost deserted prefabricated classroom tacked onto the back of the main block. The contents of the exhibition were ranged on tables pushed back against the walls of the room. Giles handed Derek a typed description of the various displays. ‘TABLE 1 Devoted to hardness of rocks. TABLE 2 Streak, specific gravity and amber test. TABLE 3 Lustre and crystal systems.’ A table on mining, another on volcanoes with models, types of synthetic minerals, polishing, mounting and displaying of stones. Derek and Diana wandered from table to table, admiring their son’s professionalism. Giles was only thirteen and yet half the exhibits were incomprehensible to his parents; both pretended to find the exhibition exciting; Derek did better than Diana, partly because for the past two years he had tried to keep up with his son’s hobby, and partly because adrenalin was lapping in his stomach and he found enthusiasm relieved his inner tension.

  They had arranged to meet later for tea in the school cafeteria. Arriving before Giles, Derek and Diana queued for a cup of tea and went and sat down at a table in the far corner of the room. No long oak tables and minstrel’s gallery in the Linacre dining hall. A modern cafeteria, self-service, strip lighting and tables with blue, pink and green formica tops. The Victorian dining-hall had long since been split up to make more classrooms. Derek’s hand shook as he lifted his cup. Diana was looking round glumly at other parents sitting with their sons. The atmosphere was hushed, as though nobody wished the people at the adjacent tables to overhear what they were saying. Derek’s nervousness had increased, but the time, he told himself, had undoubtedly come. He pushed back his chair. ‘Just going to get something from the car.’ Before Diana could object he was threading his way across the room towards the door.

  When he returned, Derek was clutching a long cardboard box; from a distance he saw that Giles was now sitting beside his mother. Derek sat down and smiled at them both, then, without saying anything, he unwrapped the package and produced a large pair of green flippers and a matching face-mask and snorkel. A short silence and then Giles leaned across the table and grasped his father’s hand.

  ‘That’s fantastic’ The boy examined his mask more closely and fiddled with the adjustable strap. ‘I can’t wait to use them.’

  ‘You won’t have to,’ Derek replied, smiling at Diana, who was looking puzzled and put out. He breathed deeply and held onto the edge of the table. ‘We’re all going to Cornwall,’ he said, in a tone that a man might have used in telling his family that he had won the pools or been made managing director of his company. Silence. Derek smiled nervously and gave a little cough. ‘Well, aren’t you pleased?’

  Giles looked confused and embarrassed. ‘But I’m going to scout camp.’

  Derek shook his head.

  ‘I’d rather you came with mummy and me,’ he replied gently. ‘I’ve written to the scout master.’

  ‘But your research,’ cut in Diana with unconcealed amazement.

  Derek studied the formica table top and sighed.

  ‘There are more important things in life than research,’ he murmured, and then, with a slight tremor in his voice, ‘You said that yourself and you were right. Of course you both come first.’

  Diana, who had been frowning to herself, suddenly took Derek’s hand and smiled.

  ‘It’s not that I’m not pleased; of course I am. But it is rather short notice. Have you told Charles yet?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Derek. ‘But he won’t mind. You heard him yourself the other day, telling us how disappointed he was that I wasn’t coming. He’ll be pleased too.’

  Derek felt less nervous already; perhaps he had underestimated himself to imagine that there could be any difficulties. After all what possible objections could Diana have raised to his changing his mind? She had pretended to be disappointed when he had stuck to his research. She could hardly go back on that now. A moment of doubt recurred when he heard her ask Giles whether he would mind missing his scout camp, but it was over the moment he heard the boy say, ‘I can always go next year.’

  ‘So it’s all fixed,’ cried Derek, clapping his hands and smiling broadly. He sipped his tea thoughtfully and then put down the cup with a clatter. His father. So intent had he been on judging her reactions to the news that
he himself would be coming, he had briefly forgotten the deadlier bit of information he had to impart. He toyed with and then dismissed the idea of telling his father that it was all off. The problem was whether to tell her now while she was still shocked and surprised by his first revelation, or whether to wait till another occasion. Derek tried to think logically but without success. Better get it over with quickly.

  ‘I know the idea won’t immediately appeal to you‚’ he said to Diana, ‘so please don’t jump at me.’ He took a bite from a chocolate biscuit and chewed, giving himself time to think. ‘I saw my father the other day and I hinted, no more than hinted, mind you, that there was a faint chance that he might come to Cornwall with us.’ He smiled apologetically. Diana was looking at him as though he had just confessed to a particularly abhorrent perversion.

  ‘You mean you’ve asked him,’ said Diana in a chillingly level voice.

  ‘No, I don’t mean that,’ returned Derek, passing the back of his hand over his sweating forehead. ‘I simply told him that there was a possibility of his coming. I did go on to say that I couldn’t see any immediate reason why he shouldn’t come, but I left the matter open.’

  ‘You asked him,’ repeated Diana in the same flat cold voice.

  ‘All right. I asked him conditionally.’ Derek smiled and dabbed at his forehead again. Diana’s face was flushed and her eyes narrowed with anger.

  ‘You’d better un-ask him—’ she paused slightly—‘unconditionally.’

  ‘Isn’t that being a bit unfair? He won’t get in anyone’s way. There must be a good many pubs in the area. He can stay at one of them or at a bed and breakfast.’ He lowered his voice a little. ‘Quite honestly the only reason I suggested he might like a holiday is this whole Malayan business. I thought a few weeks away would give his obsession a rest; take him out of himself. You surely can’t disagree with that?’

  ‘You don’t suppose that when Charles realizes your father’s staying in the local pub he might feel obliged to ask him to stay at the house?’

  The savage tone of sarcasm was worse than Derek had expected. With as much calmness as he could manage, he said, ‘I’ll tell Charles that my father’s a recluse and that he only wants to see us once or twice every couple of days. He’d honestly be happier in a pub.’

  Diana looked him in the eye and said quietly, ‘If he comes, I don’t.’

  ‘You can’t begrudge an old man a chance to get away for a bit. You’ll hardly see him. How can it affect you?’

  In any other circumstances Derek was certain that she would have thrown something at him, but the other people around them prevented her. He could see from the way she was breathing that the effort not to scream at him was almost unendurable. She twisted her mouth into a bright social smile.

  ‘Oh Charles, something I didn’t tell you; my father’s been a bit odd lately so I’ve brought him along. He’s at the local pub down the road. No, he’s not a lunatic, just rather unbalanced. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind having him to lunch every other day.’ She threw up her hands suddenly, and, abandoning any attempt to keep her voice down, went on, ‘Why not have a mad wife as well? Two for the price of one.’

  Giles was looking around with acute embarrassment. He could see several members of his form sitting three tables away with their parents.

  ‘I suppose Giles and I could go on our own,’ Derek said, ‘but it obviously wouldn’t be the same.’

  ‘Blame yourself,’ snarled Diana, pushing back her chair with a loud scraping sound.

  Giles got up and blurted out imploringly, ‘Can’t you talk somewhere else?’

  Diana looked at him coldly and said, ‘As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing more to talk about.’ Giles picked up his mask and flippers and fled. Diana stared furiously at Derek.

  ‘That was your fault,’ she forced out between clenched teeth.

  Derek didn’t reply but started to eat a nasty-looking piece of pink cake.

  ‘Hadn’t you better sit down?’ he muttered.

  Diana was fumbling in her bag.

  ‘Give me the car keys,’ she said, holding out a hand. Derek shook his head. ‘All right; let me have some money for a taxi.’ She was swaying slightly as she held on to the back of the chair. It would not altogether have surprised Derek if she had started ripping off her clothes and throwing them at amazed parents.

  ‘Let’s go outside and talk,’ he said, taking her arm.

  ‘Will you give me some bloody money?’ she shouted.

  ‘Later.’

  Heads all over the room had turned to look at them. For Giles’s sake it was just as well it was the end of term, reflected Derek. Observers might well imagine that he was a prostitute’s client who had just refused to pay. Diana turned on her heel and headed for the door. Derek followed at a distance.

  When she reached the main entrance to the building, Derek was relieved to see that Diana started walking towards the cricket field and not towards the drive. He caught her up on the far side of the ground in front of the sight-screen. The Scoreboard opposite showed that the fathers had bowled out the boys for 137 and were now 36 for 4 in reply. A boundary was greeted with a thin round of clapping from the small pavilion. She stared straight ahead of her, ignoring him.

  ‘If you cared a damn about my coming,’ he said quietly, ‘my father wouldn’t bother you at all. He’ll go for walks on his own, look at plants; he used to collect butterflies.’ He suddenly saw his father blundering along a cliff path brandishing a large net. He hoped that Diana had not had the same vision. A boy using a loud-hailer was exhorting fathers to enter for a tug of war against the school’s rugger fifteen. Her silence was unnerving Derek. She had to come; he had not even guessed at the possibility that she might pull out altogether.

  ‘I really will go with Giles if you refuse to come. I won’t be blackmailed.’

  She turned to him wearily and let her hands drop to her sides. Her anger had clearly burned out.

  ‘Not wanting your father to come may be selfish, but it isn’t blackmail. So stop being so melodramatic.’

  Derek studied the grass and tried to think of what to say. A ragged shout from the distant cricketers announced the fall of a wicket. The fathers were in danger of collapse. Diana lit a cigarette and tossed away the spent match.

  ‘All right; I’ll come,’ she said suddenly. ‘Now let’s go home.’

  ‘We’d better check up on Giles on the way.’

  She nodded agreement. Derek’s relief was such that he slipped an arm round her waist. She didn’t disengage herself.

  A little later she said, ‘You’ve been incredibly thoughtless even for you; but it still wouldn’t be fair if I refused to come.’ She stopped and took both Derek’s hands in hers. ‘I was so delighted when you told me you were coming. Then you sprang your father on me. Surely you can see why I was so upset?’

  Derek’s confidence wavered for a moment but no longer. Her contrition was proof of her guilt. In any other circumstances an invitation to his father would not have been forgiven for several months. In silence they followed the boundary rope back towards the school.

  Chapter 6

  During the two days remaining before their departure, Derek was fully occupied making arrangements, so he had little time to brood over the outcome of the next two weeks. The car had to be taken in for a service, its first in eight months; there were various items of clothing to be bought, including a new pair of swimming-trunks. He liked the idea of a striped pair in violently contrasting colours. There should be nothing drab on this particular holiday. Then Mr Cushing senior had to be accommodated. Derek spent the best part of a morning on the phone before finding his father a room in the Three Pilchards, a village pub five miles from Charles’s house.

  Now that he was committed to going to Cornwall, Derek felt a sense of relief so great that, in spite of continuing fears for the future, he was still able to enjoy the immediate preparations and was even capable of relishing their hidden ironies. He had dis
covered from a book called Cornish Rivers and Estuaries that they would be staying barely two miles from a famous prawn breeding-ground. Prawning would be an excellent family activity, so he bought three large nets. In the same shop he also acquired some mackerel spinners. Since Diana had attacked him for failing to provide a real family holiday the year before, Derek was determined that this time she should not be disappointed: there would be bags of fun for all the family with prawning, fishing, beach cricket, picnics and numerous outings to places of interest. Derek made his preparations with the hearty bonhomie he felt sure a good-natured and happily married paterfamilias ought to display on such occasions. Giles, who had evidently forgiven his mother for her outburst on Open Day, was equally enthusiastic, and Diana, Derek noted with ironic pleasure, also felt obliged to enter into the holiday spirit.

  It was not until the eve of their departure that Derek remembered the cat. When Derek and Diana went away, their black cat, Kalulu, was usually looked after by the couple in the flat above, but unfortunately on this occasion their holiday coincided with the Cushings’. Derek suggested that rather than spend hours the following morning trying to get the animal into a cat’s boarding-house, they should take him with them. Diana remonstrated briefly but then gave in. Derek was not really surprised at her uncharacteristic surrender. After all, if you tell your lover you’ll come alone and then turn up with your husband, son and father-in-law, the addition of a cat doesn’t make much difference.

  By half-past eight the following morning they were passing through that no man’s land between city and country; the tree-lined avenues of semis and the palatial factories lay behind them; now houses gave way to scarred open spaces, car dumps, reservoirs, shunting-yards and gasometers. A sunny day, and ahead of them the holiday traffic thick on the roads. For a while country, but not for long: the green belt, followed by the stockbroker belt, followed by cummuter-belt Camberley and after the belts the M3 and overspill Basingstoke. A long way to the real country and all the way Kalulu in his basket howling with fear and indignation. The car’s service had not cured the steering-wheel judder, nor the curious whine that came from the region of the back axle. So many new cars on the road, their paintwork shining, bumpers undented, engines energetic and responsive, their owners all better paid than archivists. Diana was driving; in the back Giles was reading a thriller. Derek sat beside his wife with the cat basket on his knee; above him the shrimping-nets beat out a regular tattoo on the roof. Derek smiled to himself.