Who have we here? Mr. Eliot said, and Walter Vail leapt across the room to shake hands. Mr. Eliot, not accustomed to sudden physical contact, recoiled a little. Mrs. Eliot emerged from the murky hall, pulling vaguely at her gloves. Lilian introduced her guest.

Oh yes, said Mrs Eliot. Diana told me they had you. She kept her face half-turned as if waiting to decide what she made of this person. With a mixture of sincerity and shyness, Walter Vail told them how greatly he admired the house and to Mrs. Eliot how beautifully he thought she’d arranged it. She wore a dazed expression. Arthur, leaning back on the arm of a chair, smirked. Lilian gave him a cross look.

Won’t you sit down? Walter Vail said. The Eliots had yet to be invited by a guest to sit in their own house.

Of course, said Mrs. Eliot, and she removed her hat, arms reaching deftly, without tipping her head one degree.

Mr. Eliot strode further into the room and stood stiff-kneed by the tea tray. He lit a cigar and asked Walter Vail about his army training. Camp had not been so interesting, Walter Vail replied, an opinion Mr. Eliot did not seem to appreciate. He paused, too, when he heard Walter Vail utter the distasteful phrase ‘the excitement overseas.’

Isn’t your mother the actress? said Mrs. Eliot, surprised she’d remembered.

Used to be.

I suppose one must be a sort of exhibitionist to be an actress, Mrs. Eliot said.

On the mantel a clock chimed and was echoed more faintly by the standing clock in the hall. Oh my God, said Walter Vail, using an expression Mrs. Eliot often checked in Arthur. He stood up. I didn’t realize the time. The Fenwicks will be expecting me.

In the outer hall with the door opened Lilian said goodnight. Walter Vail had a peculiar expression, a cross between pain and curiosity. He cupped Lilian’s round cheek with his hand and, as he stepped back, let his fingers run along her jaw.

Lilian told her mother she’d asked him for dinner on Monday night.

Shouldn’t we have Madelaine? Mrs. Eliot said.

I don’t see why, Lilian said. She wasn’t skating.

All that evening Lilian found she could gaze for long periods of time at nothing in particular and be perfectly content.

7 • The rendezvous and its aftermath

7 • The rendezvous
and its aftermath