CHAPTER 9

‘They are going to call the baby Isabella. Bella for short,’ said Celia, her voice was cool, ‘because she’s so – ’ she paused, clearly finding it difficult to finish the sentence, ‘ – so beautiful.’

‘Charming,’ said Oliver, ‘quite charming.’

‘I’m surprised you find it so. I thought it rather common myself.’

‘Well, as long as you don’t convey that thought to her parents. And how was she, the little one?’

‘Oh – like all babies. Ugly.’

‘My dear, none of our babies were ugly. The twins were positively beautiful.’

‘This baby is ugly. She will look just like Pandora. She has nothing of Sebastian about her, and no doubt she will be very pretty, but at the moment she is ugly.’

‘And Pandora?’

‘Oh, she’s very well. Considering what she has been through. Absurdly smug of course. Nobody ever had a baby before. And Sebastian is behaving in the most ridiculous way, taking no notice of the baby, just sitting clinging to Pandora’s hand as if she had been rescued from some terrible danger.’

‘Well, I suppose it might be said that she had,’ said Oliver mildly. ‘It has not been an easy pregnancy, as I understand it. Now, my dear, can we turn our minds to other matters? Such as publishing, for just a little while.’

‘I shall be extremely pleased to turn my mind to other matters,’ said Celia, ‘it’s only a baby after all.’

 

‘Sebastian’s wife has had a daughter, Beckenham.’

‘Who’s that, my dear? Who’s had a daughter?’

‘Pandora, Sebastian Brooke’s wife. You must remember her, she—’

‘Oh yes, of course I remember her. Pretty little thing. Lovely eyes. Well, that’s good news. Better if it was a boy, of course, but—’

‘Beckenham, not everyone has a title to pass down. And just as well Sebastian has not in my opinion. Anyway, Celia just telephoned with the news. I’m going to see her now.’

‘What, the baby?’

‘No, of course not. Celia.’

‘Why on earth do you need to see Celia, just because Sebastian’s wife’s had a baby?’

‘You wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain. So I shan’t. But I’ll be back for dinner.’

 

‘Thank you for your cable, Sebastian. What a wonderful relief for us all. So my daughter has had a daughter, and I’m a grandmother at last. I feel immortal. And so, no doubt, does she.’

 

‘Oh, Sebastian, it’s such lovely news. Adele and I are just so – so delighted and proud of you both. And girls are so much nicer than boys. Specially when they grow up. I do hope this new one of mine is a girl. Now, when can we come and see her? Tomorrow? Oh, good. Just say the time. And give her our best, our very best love till then.’

 

‘Abbie, Pandora’s had a little girl. Isn’t that lovely? And they’re both extremely well. After all that. I’m just so happy and so relieved. I’m allowed to go and see her later today, just for a few minutes. She’s very tired still, but Sebastian said as I’d done such a lot to help – absolute nonsense, of course, but still – I could. That’s why I’m home early, to get my car. I’ll send them both your love, shall I?’

 

‘Superb news from England, my darling. Pandora has given birth to a daughter. Both well. Calling her Isabella. Isabella Lily, after you. What do you think of that?’

‘I think it’s wonderful, Jack. As soon as this film is finished, let’s go home and see her.’

‘Fine by me.’

 

‘Kit, old chap, do you want to come and see Pandora with me tomorrow? Pandora and her little baby. Sebastian said you could come with me if you’d like it. We could go after school, I’ll get Daniels to bring you to the hospital, meet you there.’

‘Yes, all right, Giles, that would be nice. I wish it had been a boy, though. More fun for me.’

 

‘Daddy, there’s a cable from Adele. Pandora, you know, that lovely girl who’s married to Sebastian Brooke, she’s had an adorable baby girl.’

‘And how do you know she’s adorable, Maud?’

‘All babies are adorable. Oh, I’m so utterly delighted. They were quite worried about Pandora, you know. I must send a cable back. Goodness, excuse for another visit, do you think?’

‘Hardly, Maud. They’re not exactly family. And—’

‘I know, I know. Money’s not as plentiful as it was. I’m only teasing. But you’re wrong about one thing. Of course they’re family. Sebastian is part of Lyttons, everyone says so. Oh, it’s so exciting. I feel quite tearful about it all.’

 

‘She seems a dear little thing, Gordon. Not exactly beautiful of course, but quiet and good. And Pandora is well, that’s the main thing. And Sebastian is – well, I can’t quite describe how he looks. Isn’t it odd, the happiness babies bring with them?’

 

‘I can never remember being so happy. I never hoped to be so happy. Never. God has been too utterly good to me. Now, my darling, I want you to rest. Too many visitors by half, and I don’t care if Matron did say it was all right. You look exhausted. Very pale. I want you to lie still and hold my hand. I’m not going until you fall asleep. And probably not even then. I can’t bear to leave you. Now that I’ve got you back to myself again. Shut your eyes, darling, and just don’t think about anything at all. The baby’s right as rain, I’ve just been to visit her in the nursery. Let me give you a kiss. Sleep well, my darling. Thank you for being you.’

 

Celia was working late, when she heard the front door bell of Lytton House ring. She decided to ignore it. It couldn’t be anything important. Oliver was at a dinner and the rest of the staff had been gone for over an hour. She loved being alone in the building; she felt time to be entirely hers. And she needed time: a great deal of it. Lady Annabel’s biography of Charlotte and Emily Brontë was not as painstakingly researched as usual, requiring a lot of tactful and constructive editing. It wasn’t going to be an easy task.

The bell went again: and then again. She frowned. A delivery, no doubt, from one of the printers. They knew it was not really allowed, after five. Presumably the typesetters, trying to rush something through before the weekend. She had spoken to them about it before. It would do them good to find no one answering, to have to take the work back again. It might make them take her instructions more seriously.

Another long, insistent ring. Very intrusive. It seemed she would have to go down. She set aside her notes, and stood up, walked rather slowly down the corridor and into the reception hall. Another ring. Louder and still longer. It was too bad.

Perhaps it wasn’t the printers. Perhaps it was a telegram. Or a personal missive from Lady Annabel, who had sensed her displeasure. She had sent her maid with handwritten notes before. On one occasion, even flowers. Yes, perhaps that was it. Although the knock would have been timid, she felt, diffident; the poor girl was very put-upon. The chauffeur perhaps: yes, that was more likely.

She opened the door. It was not a messenger from the typesetters; nor was it a telegram boy, nor even Lady Annabel’s unfortunate maid or chauffeur. It was Sebastian. Standing there, very still, just staring at her. And not speaking; seemingly unable to speak.

‘Celia,’ he said finally, and his voice was strange, heavy, absolutely devoid of expression. ‘Celia, let me come in. Please. It’s Pandora. She’s – she’s dead.’