Brideshead Revisited(59)
Rex and Brenda Champion were staying at the next villa on Cap Ferrat, taken that year by a newspaper magnate, and frequented by politicians. They would not normally have come within Lady Rosscommon’s ambit, but, living so close, the parties mingled and at once, Rex began warily to pay his court.
All that summer he had been feeling restless. Mrs Champion had proved a dead end; it had all been intensely exciting at first, but now the bonds had begun to chafe. Mrs Champion lived as, he found, the English seemed apt to do, in a little world within a little world; Rex demanded a wider horizon. He wanted to consolidate his gains; to strike the black ensign, go ashore, hang the cutlass up over the chimney, and think about the crops. It was time he married; he, too, was in search of a ‘Eustace’, but, living as he did, he met few girls. He knew of Julia; she was by all accounts top debutante, a suitable prize.
With Mrs Champion’s cold eyes watching behind her sunglasses, there was little Rex could do at Cap Ferrat except establish a friendliness which could be widened later. He was never entirely alone with Julia, but he saw to it that she was included in most things they did; he taught her chemin-de-fer, he arranged that it was always in his car that they drove to Monte Carlo or Nice; he did enough to make Lady Rosscommon. write to Lady Marchmain, and Mrs Champion move him, sooner than they had planned, to Antibes.
Julia went to Salzburg to join her mother.
‘Aunt Fanny tells me you made great friends with Mr Mottram. I’m sure he can’t be very nice.’
‘I don’t think he is,’ said Julia. ‘I don’t know that I like nice people.’
There is proverbially a mystery among most men of new wealth, how they made their first ten thousand; it is the qualities they showed then, before they became bullies, when every man was someone to be placated, when only hope sustained them and they could count on nothing from the world but what could be charmed from it, that make them, if they survive their triumph, successful with women. Rex, in the comparative freedom of London, became abject to Julia; he planned his life about hers where he would meet her, ingratiating himself with those who could report well of him to her; he sat on a number of charitable committees in order to be near Lady Marchmain; he offered his services to Brideshead in getting him a seat in Parliament (but was there rebuffed); he expressed a keen interest in the Catholic Church until he found that this was no way to Julia’s heart. He was always ready to drive her in his Hispano wherever she wanted to go; he took her and parties of her friends to ring-side seats at prize-fights and introduced them afterwards to the pugilists; and all the time he never once made love to her. From being agreeable, he became indispensable to her; from having been proud of him in public she became a little ashamed, but by that time, between Christmas and Easter, he had become indispensable. And then, without in the least expecting it, she suddenly found herself in love.
It came to her, this disturbing and unsought revelation, one evening in May, when Rex had told her he would be busy at the House, and, driving by chance down Charles Street, she saw him leaving what she knew to be Brenda Champion’s house. She was so hurt and angry that she could barely keep up appearances through dinner; as soon as she could, she went home and cried bitterly for ten minutes; then she felt hungry, wished she had eaten more at dinner, ordered some bread-and-milk, and went to bed saying: ‘When Mr Mottram telephones in the morning, whatever time it is, say I am not to be disturbed.’
Next day she breakfasted in bed as usual, read the papers, telephoned to her friends. Finally she asked: ‘Did Mr Mottram ring up by any chance?’
‘Oh yes my lady four times. Shall I put him through when he rings again?’
‘Yes. No. Say I’ve gone out.’
When she came downstairs there was a message for her on the hall table. Mr Mottram expects Lady Julia at the Ritz at 1.30. ‘I shall lunch at home today,’ she said.
That afternoon she went shopping with her mother; they had tea with an aunt and returned at six.
‘Mr Mottram is waiting, my Lady. I’ve shown him into the library.’
‘Oh, mummy, I can’t be bothered with him. Do tell him to go home.’
‘That’s not at all kind, Julia. I’ve often said he’s not my favourite among your friends, but I have grown quite used to him, almost to like him. You really mustn’t take people up and drop them like this — particularly people like Mr Mottram.’
Oh, mummy, must I see him? There’ll be a scene if I do.’
‘Nonsense, Julia, you twist that poor man round your finger.’
So Julia went into the library and came out an hour later engaged to be married.
‘Oh, mummy, I warned you this would happen if I went in there.’
‘You did nothing of the kind. You merely said there would be a scene. I never conceived of a scene of this kind.’
‘Anyway, you do like him, mummy. You said so.’
‘He has been very kind in a number of ways. I regard him as entirely unsuitable as your husband. So will everyone.’
‘Damn everybody.’
‘We know nothing about him. He may have black blood — in fact he is suspiciously dark. Darling, the whole thing’s impossible. I can’t see how you can have been so foolish.’
‘Well, what right have I got otherwise to be angry with him if he goes with that horrible old woman? You make a great thing about rescuing fallen women. Well, I’m rescuing, a fallen man for a change. I’m saving Rex from mortal sin.’