Lovers and Dancers by Heather Ingman

Author:Heather Ingman [Ingman, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2017-05-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The Portrait

It was a cold crisp March morning. They were walking in the woods above High Park, safe from prying eyes. Vi strode along in her breeches, her hair tucked under a cap, her hands thrust into the pockets of her jacket. Louisa followed more slowly, the hem of her skirt making a swishing sound as it skimmed last year’s leaves.

‘I can’t get used to the idea that James is dead.’ Vi’s cheeks glowed in the morning chill. ‘I taught him to ride, you know, though he was never very good at it.’

‘Yet he went into the cavalry.’

‘His family, I suppose.’ She kicked some leaves ahead of her. ‘How was Cynthia?’

Louisa recalled the scene in Cynthia’s elegant drawing room. The three of them dwarfed by the high ceilings which somehow seemed to muffle and render insignificant human emotion. Max had gone off with the rector to make arrangements for the memorial service. Cynthia said,

‘It feels as though my life has ended.’

‘Oh come now.’ Edward hovered awkwardly in front of the chaise longue where Cynthia lay dressed in unfamiliar black, clasping her damp handkerchief in her hands. ‘You have Lavinia. You must live for her.’

He smiled kindly over at the small, forlorn figure crouched in the window seat.

Cynthia shook her head. ‘It’s not the same. It’s our sons who give us our immortality and carry on the line.’

‘Not a very nice thing for Lavinia to hear,’ commented Louisa now.

‘I can understand Cynthia feeling like that,’ said Vi. ‘Oh not the absurd distinction between daughters and sons. But I saw what Frank’s death did to Pa. He went about as if he’d had a limb chopped off. It would have been the same if Colm or I had died. At least Cynthia didn’t say she was consoled by the fact James had died a hero, fighting for his country.’

‘I expect that will come.’

‘Cynic! You don’t much like her, do you?’

‘She bullies Lavinia.’

‘Lavinia shouldn’t allow herself to be bullied.’ Vi paused and looked up at the monkey puzzle tree towering in front of them. ‘That tree must have been here for hundreds of years.’

‘Three hundred, Edward says.’

‘Really? What things it must have seen.’ She glanced back at Louisa. ‘I would have liked a child, you know. Someone to remember me when I’m gone. Perhaps I should plant a tree instead?’

‘Vi, you’re still young! Why do you keep talking like this? You’re only twenty-nine. Heaps of time still to get married and have a child.’

Vi shook her head. ‘I shall never marry. And if I had a child I’d have to choose – her or Ireland. An impossible choice. Besides, when I say I’d like a child, I don’t mean I want to spend all that energy bringing her up. It’s simply a selfish desire to be continued in some way.’ She grinned at Louisa. ‘Pure vanity.’

‘Anyway – look at James – there’s no guarantee, if you did have a child, that he or she would outlive you.’

This morning, she’d received another letter from Andrew.

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