Brideshead Revisited(41)

When I remonstrated he said, ‘I can’t stand all these people about,” but it was when they finally left and he had to face his family at close quarters that he broke down.

The normal practice was for a cocktail tray to be brought into the drawing-room at six; we mixed our own drinks and the bottles were removed when we went to dress; later, just before dinner, cocktails appeared again, this time handed round by the footmen.

Sebastian disappeared after tea; the light had gone and I spent the next hour playing mah-jongg with Cordelia. At six I was alone in the drawing-room, when he returned; he was frowning in a way I knew all too well, and when he spoke I recognized the drunken thickening in his voice.

‘Haven’t they brought the cocktails yet?’ He pulled clumsily on the bell-rope.

I said, ‘Where have you been?’

‘Up with nanny.’

‘I don’t believe it. You’ve been drinking somewhere.’

‘I’ve been reading in my room. My cold’s worse today.’ When the tray arrived he slopped gin and vermouth into a tumbler and carried it out of the room with him. I followed him upstairs, where he shut his bedroom door in my face and turned the key.

I returned to the drawing-room full of dismay and foreboding.

The family assembled. Lady Marchmain said: ‘What’s become of Sebastian?’

‘He’s gone to lie down. His cold is worse.’

‘Oh dear, I hope he isn’t getting flu. I thought he had a feverish look once or twice lately. Is there anything he wants?’

‘No, he particularly asked not to be disturbed.’

I wondered whether I ought to speak to Brideshead, but that grim, rock-crystal mask forbade all confidence. Instead, on the way upstairs to dress, I told Julia.

‘Sebastian’s drunk.’

‘He can’t be. He didn’t even come for a cocktail.’

‘He’s been drinking in. his room all the afternoon.’

‘How very peculiar! What a bore he is! Will he be all right for dinner?’

‘No.’

‘Well, you must deal with him. It’s no business of mine. Does he often do this?’

‘He has lately.’

‘How very boring.’

I tried Sebastian’s door, found it locked, and hoped he was sleeping, but, when I came back from my bath, I found him sitting in the chair before my fire; he was dressed for dinner, all but his shoes, but his tie was awry and his hair on end; he was very red in the face and squinting slightly. He spoke indistinctly.

‘Charles, what you said was quite true. Not with nanny. Been drinking whisky up here. None in the library now party’s gone. Now party’s gone and only mummy. Feeling rather drunk. Think I’d better have something-on-a-tray up here. Not dinner with mummy.’

‘Go to bed,’ I told him. ‘I’ll say your cold’s worse.’

‘Much worse.’

I took him to his room which was next to mine and tried to get him to bed, but he sat in front of his dressing table squinnying at himself in the glass, trying to remake his bow-tie. On the writing table by the fire was a half-empty decanter of whisky. I took it up, thinking he would not see, but he spun round from the mirror and said: ‘You put that down.’

‘Don’t be an ass, Sebastian. You’ve had enough.’

‘What the devil’s it got to do with you? You’re only a guest here — my guest. I drink what I want to in my own house.’ He would have fought me for it at that moment.

‘Very well,’ I said, putting the decanter back, ‘Only for God’s sake keep out of sight.’

‘Oh, mind your own business. You came here as my friend; now you’re spying on me for my mother, I know. Well, you can get out and tell her from me that I’ll choose my friends and she her spies in future.’

So I left him and went down to dinner.

‘I’ve been in to Sebastian,’ I said. ‘His cold has come on rather badly. He’s gone to bed and says he doesn’t want anything.’

‘Poor Sebastian,’ said Lady Marchmain. ‘He’d better have a glass of hot whisky. I’ll go and have a look at him.’

‘Don’t mummy, I’ll go,’ said Julia rising.

‘I’ll go,’ said Cordelia, who was dining down that night, for a treat to celebrate the departure of the guests. She was at the door and through it before anyone could stop her. Julia caught my eye and gave a tiny, sad shrug.

In a few minutes Cordelia was back, looking grave. ‘No, he doesn’t seem to want anything,’ she said.

‘How was he?’

‘Well, I don’t know, but I think he’s very drunk’ she said.

‘Cordelia.’

Suddenly the child began to giggle. ‘“Marquis’s Son Unused to Wine”,’ she quoted. “‘Model Student’s Career Threatened”.’

‘Charles, is this true?’ asked Lady Marchmain.

‘Yes.’

Then dinner was announced, and we went to the dining-room where the subject was not mentioned.

When, Brideshead and I were left alone he said: ‘Did you say Sebastian was drunk?’

‘Yes.’

‘Extraordinary time to choose. Couldn’t you stop him?’