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CHAPTER 29: Cynthia

Cynthia woke to find the news all over the Friday paper. 'BASINGSTOKE WOMAN SAVES EARL' the headlines cried. She had to hunt through the Times and the Telegraph to find the incident mentioned, but was relieved to find it, buried inside.

It seemed that the phone had been ringing all morning, friends praising her bravery and sympathising with her ordeal, journalists requesting interviews and photo opportunities. Best of all was an invitation to dinner on Saturday from Jack. Just see Jacob try and dodge that. Jack owns far too much property and sits on far too many Boards and Committees for an ambitious architect like her husband to pass up such an opportunity.

It might help too.

Jack promised to get Dr Whithorne along to talk to Jacob and make it clear why it's okay for Patrick to be gay. She's a bit unsure about that now herself. It all made a lot of sense while Jack was talking to her but now she's not so sure. She tried to explain to her husband, but doesn't think she got through. This evening she'll try again, knowing from past experience that if she spends enough time talking to Jacob about something he usually comes round.

There's another problem. Despite all Jack's assurances there are two 'friends' who haven't rung to congratulate and commiserate, the two most important.

Veronica Dixon - well it's not surprising she hasn't called, all things considered. Cynthia knows what a fool she made of herself on Sunday, whining and complaining and sulking, trying to ear bash James Alcock, then making a scene with Patrick and running away. She cringes at the memory.

Why did she have to carry on like that over Steven Carter? As if it mattered. Just because some fool like Hillary thought having the Carter boy at Belvedere would destroy the reputation of the school and damage her daughters' chances for the future.

And to top it all off she had to be rude to Veronica and Raymond about John. Does it really matter if John Dixon is gay? Does it really matter if John and Steven are lovers?

Is it that important to stay on Hillary's good side? Yes it is, but not at any price. What if Patrick brings home a boyfriend? Will she disown him just to stay in favour with Hillary?

What if he already has a boyfriend?

Paul?

Patrick and Paul?

Could they be, is it possible they're lovers? No! Think about that later!

Might they be? LATER!

Back to Veronica - after the weekend she knows it will be up to her to make the first move. If she were in Veronica's position she would never do it.

Hillary - What was it Grace nicknamed Hillary? 'The Godmother of Basingstoke.' Unkind perhaps, but true.

The phone rings. Again! She's becoming a bit tired of that sound.

"Hello?" she says into the mouthpiece, hoping for a friendly voice.

"Why hello Elizabeth. How are you today?"

"Well what could I do? I couldn't let the boy be harmed, could I?"

Why did she take the knife from Eli's father? It was instinctive. At the time it seemed the only possible thing to do.

Damn! What was it Elizabeth just said? She really should pay attention and not drift away.

"Sorry Elizabeth?"

"It was a pretty good picture wasn't it?"

"Of course."

"I'll see you this evening then."

"Bye."

It's a moment before the dial tone penetrates Cynthia's thoughts. Elizabeth has hung up. Feeling a fool she puts down the phone. She has been standing there, holding the receiver to her ear, lost in thought.

This evening - the cocktail party at Maria's. If she hasn't heard from Hillary by then she'll have to face her and know she's lost, that Hillary is still the undisputed ruler of Basingstoke society.

The phone rings again. This will be the last one, the answering machine can take the next call.

"Hello?"

"Veronica! How nice."

"Quiet an experience indeed."

"Of course I can meet you for lunch."

"That sounds lovely. I've always liked that restaurant."

"Bye then. See you at 12.30."

Veronica! Forgiven! What a nice woman! It'll be good to see her. She can apologise and then, perhaps, talk about Patrick. Is she ready to talk about him yet?

But Hillary?

What's the worst that can happen? So they find out Patrick's gay, what of it? Would they hold it against her? No. Hold it over her? Yes. Just look how she went on about Steven Carter and all the things she's been saying about Veronica. Now they'll say it about her. Sure she'll still get the invites, but they'll be sniggering behind her back. How can she stand that?

It's all Patrick's fault. How can he be gay? It's just not fair.

But would it be fair to treat him like Eli? That poor boy. The fear in Eli's eyes at the sight of his own father is an image she will never forget.

That's it!

That's what made her ask for the knife. The fear in Eli's eyes! It reminded her of Patrick's eyes the night he tried to tell her he was gay. How could she have ignored that fear. What kind of a mother has she become?

She makes a mental note to talk to Jack about Eli. Can she do anything for him? Does he need financial support?

That fear! She never wants to see that fear again! Not in Eli's eyes and definitely not in Patrick's.

No, it's not Patrick's fault. It a damn nuisance, but it can't be helped.

But Hillary!

Her reverie is broken by the doorbell. She's not expecting any deliveries or visits. Patrick is out with Paul, so it's not Paul.

Are they? Later!

Could they be? Later! Later! Later!

Probably Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses is her thought as she opens the door to see ... the Honourable Hillary Wickham-Fiennes standing there, smiling cheerfully, as if she's just run into her dearest friend.

"Hello dear. I was just passing and thought you might be in." The well modulated tones drip from the lips of the perfectly made up, perfectly dressed Hillary, every inch a lady, the personification of everything Cynthia yearns to be.

"And I am. Come on in."

Just passing indeed! To do that Hillary has had to drive halfway across town on the off chance that Cynthia might be home. What does she want?

Exchanging polite pleasantries, Cynthia shows Hillary through to the patio, then, having offered tea and had the offer accepted, goes off to get it ready.

"Are you recovering from your ordeal my dear?" Hillary asks as Cynthia returns with the tea and settles it on the table.

"It wasn't that much of an ordeal really."

"I'd call having a nice thrust at me pretty terrifying," Hillary says dramatically.

"I doubt he would have used it," Cynthia replies coolly as she pours tea.

"But look what he did to Lord Forthampton. How is His Lordship?"

"He's fine."

"Have you spoken to him since?"

"We had a long chat this morning. He says his head's a bit achy where he landed but otherwise he's okay."

"Thank God! What an ordeal for the poor man. Have you known His Lordship long?"

Ah, Hillary's come to the point pretty quickly. "A little while." Only since yesterday to be exact, but why confuse Hillary with accuracy when vagaries are far more impressive?

"He seems such a nice man."

"He is. Very understanding too. He cares a great deal about the kids at the Hall."

"What took you down to that place?"

"I've been asked to join the Fundraising Committee."

"They'll be lucky to have you. Very luck indeed." Hillary sips her tea and nibbles genteelly on a biscuit. "Can I ask you something?"

"By all means."

"That madman with the knife, the papers didn't give his name or say why he was there."

"They wouldn't have. There's a minor involved."

"Can you tell me?" Hillary asks eagerly.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but, since it's you..."

Hillary leans forward in anticipation.

"He was there because he wanted to take his son away from the Hall."

"Surely there are more usual ways to do that. Mind you, I hear it can be hard to get children away from those places once the Social Workers have got involved."

How curious, Hillary seems to be automatically on the father's side. But of course she would be. She's always moaned about the Government money wasted on refuges. That sort of thing never happened in the glorious days when Hillary's father's was a government minister.

"Well in this case it's absolutely necessary to protect the boy. The father is an utter beast. He broke his son's arm with a brick!"

"No!" Hillary's mouth drops open in astonishment. For a second, before she recovers her perfect poise, she is no longer the grand society matron, she's just another middle-aged gossip. "Why on earth did he do that?"

"Because his son is homosexual." There! Cynthia's used the H word. Better to say it herself then wait for Hillary to bring it up later.

"That's an odd way for a father to react."

"I agree. It's not as if there's anything wrong with it." Cynthia holds her breath, on tenterhooks waiting for Hillary's reply. So much hangs on what she will say.

"No there isn't," Hillary concurs. "Look at the Dixon boy. You couldn't find a nicer lad."

Cynthia need not have worried about Hillary. She's worked out the official position of Basingstoke society on homosexuality. Clearly Cynthia Granville-Barker thinks it's okay. Elizabeth Grainger thinks it's okay. Veronica Dixon thinks it's okay. So it's okay.

"He is, isn't he." Cynthia relaxes, one major hurdle passed.

"How's your boy?"

"Doing very well." Why the segue? What has Hillary heard?

"I hear he's going to be School Captain next term."

"The head's asked him to be and Patrick's willing. I thought your daughter might have been interested."

"Jane? No. I suggested it to her but she's wants to concentrate on her studies." Actually Hillary's daughter had laughed and told her not to be such a bloody fool.

"I hear your son's made quite a friend of Grace Hayward's grandson."

"Yes he has and I'm really happy about it." Is Hillary fishing for information? Probably, but she'll have to wait. Does she suspect? After all Cynthia doesn't know herself. Does she?

"By the way Cynthia, what are you doing for lunch?"

"Lunch? Thank you for reminding me Hillary. I'm sorry I'm going to have to be rude and throw you out. I'm meeting Veronica in half an hour."

"What a pity. Let me know if you're free one day next week. There's a new restaurant I want to try."

"I'll have to check my diary. Can I get back to you later?"

"Of course. Whichever day suits you should be fine. I'm free most of the week."

Free! The tables have turned. Lunches with Hillary usually have to be arranged long in advance. Why is she being so eager?

"We can talk about it at Maria's." Cynthia stands and, almost reluctantly, Hillary rises.

They are almost to the door when Hillary, having discussed who will be at the party tonight, praised a few and maligned the rest, makes what seems to be a casual comment.

"By the way, please tell Lord Forthampton that if he ever needs any help with his charities I'd be happy to give him whatever assistance I can. One can never do too much for the underprivileged."

"Of course I will Hillary. I'll tell him Saturday."

"A meeting at the Hall Cynthia?"

"Oh no. Jack's having us to dinner. He says he wants to thank me for rescuing the boy."

A clearly impressed Hillary bids Cynthia goodbye and drives off, convinced she's done the right thing in dropping by. Cynthia's on a first name basis with someone as important as Lord Forthampton. That man has contacts all through the country, right up to the highest levels. That could prove very useful. Now why couldn't Jane have got to know Grace's grandson first?

Watching the car drive away Cynthia heaves a sigh. It really looks like everything is going to be alright.