The Silent Pool

‘Oh, plenty really. You won’t have to do a thing. The Simmons are butler and cook, and there’s Meeson who looks after Adriana – she used to be her dresser. Devoted, but she won’t lift a finger for anyone else. And a woman from the village, and a girl called Joan Cuttle – what a name! And of course Meriel does the flowers.’

‘And who is Meriel?’

‘Well, darling, there you have me! Nobody quite knows. One of those intense creatures with a lot of hair. And no one knows whether Adriana had her surreptitiously, or whether she just picked her up somewhere and adopted her, which is exactly the sort of thing she might have done. When I really want to a

‘How old is she?’

‘Oh, I don’t know – twenty-three – twenty-four – so I don’t suppose she could be really, because Adriana must be eighty, though no one knows about that either. She has always been a clam about her age. But she’s my grandfather’s sister, and I’ve got a sort of idea she was older than he was, only it’s all rather hush-hush – because of the Scandals, you know, before she blossomed out into being world-famous. I mean, once the public takes you seriously as Ophelia, and Desdemona, and Juliet, they stop thinking about your private life. I believe she was too heart-wringing as Desdemona. And then, of course, later on there were things like Mrs Alving and the other Ibsen females – and Lady Macbeth – quite overpowering! So no one bothered any more about whether she had lived with an archduke or had an affair with a bullfighter. She was just Adriana Ford, with her name in letters about three feet high and people tearing the box-office down to get seats.’

It sounded a bit overpowering. Janet said so.

A new flow began.

‘Darling, you practically won’t see her. She broke her leg six or seven months ago, and it left her with a limp, so she wouldn’t let anyone see her walk. It was one of her special things, you know, the way she moved and walked, so she’s been saying she couldn’t. Of course the doctors have always said she could if she wanted to, and the other day she went up to town and saw a specialist, and he said she had simply got to lead a normal life and get about as much as she could. Edna was telling me about it before she came out with this horrid thing about Na

Chapter Six

That is the very last one of Stella.’ Star held out a large photograph in a folding leather case. ‘You haven’t seen her for simply years, and of course she’s changed.’

The picture showed a thin, leggy child with straight dark hair cut in a fringe and a face which had lost its baby roundness and was developing features not yet adjusted to each other. The nose had more of a bridge than is usual at six years old. The brows were straight and dark above deep-set eyes. The mouth was wide and rather shapeless.

‘She isn’t a bit like me,’ said Star regretfully.

‘No.’

‘Or Robin. He was terribly good-looking, wasn’t he? And of course Stella may be – you never can tell, can you? But it will be in her own sort of way, not ours. She has got wonderful eyes – a sort of mixture of brown and grey, much darker than mine. Janet, you will write me every single thing she says and does, won’t you? I’m a fool about her – everyone tells me I am – but that’s the way it is. Someone said to me the other day, why didn’t I have her with me instead of leaving her down at Ford House? I nearly scratched her eyes out, and I said, “Oh, it would be a bit of a tie, you know”.’ Tears rushed into her eyes. ‘It isn’t that – I don’t care about anyone else, but I want you to know how it is. I never stop missing her – I don’t honestly. But it’s better for her to be down there in the country. She’s got rabbits, and a kitten, and children do get something out of being in the country that you can’t give them in town. Do you remember us at Darnach? It was heaven, wasn’t it!’

Janet laid the photograph down upon the bed. There was an open suit-case before her, and she was packing it with Star’s filmy underclothes. She had known perfectly well that Star would have been relying on her to do the packing. The mention of Darnach might have been without any special intent, or it might not. She was to know in a moment, because Star said,

‘You don’t ever see Ninian now, do you?’

Janet was folding a pale blue negligée. She laid it in the suitcase and said,

‘No.’

Star brought her over an armful of stockings.

‘Well, I can’t see why not. I ran into Robin the other day, and we had lunch. I really didn’t mind – much. And Robin and I were married, whereas you weren’t even properly engaged to Ninian. Or were you?’

Janet distributed the stockings.

‘It depends on what you call properly.’

‘Well – you didn’t have a ring.’

‘No, I didn’t have a ring.’

There was a little pause before Star said,

‘Did you break it off, or did he? I asked him, and he wouldn’t tell me – just cocked up one eyebrow and said it wasn’t my business.’

Janet said, ‘No.’

‘Because if it was on account of A

‘She was what you might call a contributory cause.’

‘Darling, how stupid! He didn’t care for her – not the least bit in the world! It was just a flare-up! Don’t you ever have a pash yourself and get over it? I have dozens! I see a too utterly expensive hat and feel as if I should die if I didn’t have it, or a mink I can’t possibly afford, or anything like that, and after a little it wears off and I don’t give a damn! A

Janet had been bending forward over the suit-case. Her hands went on putting things into it, folding them carefully, laying them straight. She was a little taller than Star, but not much. And she was pe