Chapter 8 Section 1

Tracylian ran out to open the door.The doorbell kept ringing aggressively.Then, as he was walking slowly across the hall, the doorbell rang again. Tracylian flushed.Such a rude, impatient ringing of a gentleman's doorbell! If it had been the new choir-boys he would have given them a break, and through the frosted glass above the door he saw the profile of a man— —a tall man in a floppy hat.He opened the door, as he thought--a shallow, gaudy stranger--that repulsive pattern on his clothes--so glaring, a brazen beggar: "Why, it wasn't Tracylian who Strange!" said the stranger, "How are you, Tracylian?"

Tracylian's eyes widened -- took a deep breath -- and widened again.The well-defined, haughty jaw, the high bridge of the nose, the happy eyes.Yes, they were here all those years ago, when they were softer... He gasped, "Mr. Harry!" Harry.Lee smiled. "Looks like I took you by surprise. Why? Waiting for me, aren't you?" "Yes, indeed, sir. Of course, sir." "Then why the surprise?" Harry stepped back a step or two, surveying the house—a large red brick building, uninspired, but very solid. "It's the same ugly old house," he remarked. "It's not down yet, but that's all there is left. How is my father, Tracylian?"

"He's a cripple, sir. He's in his room and can't move about. But he's in pretty good health for a sick man." "The old bastard!" Harry Lee came in and asked Tracylian to help him unfasten his scarf and take off his somewhat dramatic hat. "How is my dear brother Alfred, Tracylian?" "He's fine, sir." Harry grinned. "Looking forward to seeing me? What?" "I think so, sir." "I don't think so! Quite the contrary, and I'll bet it gave him a pretty nasty surprise, I mean my coming, Alfred and I never got along. Still reading the Bible, Tracylian?"

"Of course, sir, sometimes, sir." "Remember that parable about the prodigal son? That good brother didn't like it, remember? Not at all! I bet old Alfred wouldn't like it either." Tracylian looked down at his feet and remained silent.The knife-cut stiff back showed his displeasure, and Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Lead the way, man," he said, "the fat calf is waiting for me. Take me there." Tracylian whispered, "Go this way, sir, into the living room, sir. I'm not sure everyone's there. . . . There's no way they'll come to meet you, sir, and they don't know when you'll arrive."

Harry nodded, and he followed Tracylian down the hall, looking left and right as he walked. "I've noticed that all the old stuff is in the same place," he remarked. "I'm sure it hasn't changed since I left twenty years ago." He followed Tracylian into the living room.The old man murmured: "I'll see if I can find Mr. or Mrs. Alfred." Then he hurried out.Harry Lee walked into the room, stopped, and stared at the figure sitting on the windowsill.His eyes wandered dubiously over the raven-black hair and creamy skin. "God!" he said, "are you my father's most beautiful seventh wife?"

Pilar slid down from the ledge and came up to him. "I'm Pilar Estevardos," she announced, "and you must be my Uncle Harry, my mother's brother." Harry widened his eyes and said, "So you are Jenny's daughter!" Pilar said: "Why do you ask me if I am your father's seventh wife? Did he really have six wives?" Harry smiled. "No, I believe he only has one official one. Eh-pi-what's your name?" "It's Pilar." "Oh, Pilar, I am amazed to see a girl as young and beautiful as you in this big gloomy house."

"This—ah—what?" "Museum with stuffed specimens! I always thought this house was terrible! Now that I see it again, I think it's even worse than before!" Pilar was amazed: "Oh no, it's beautiful here! The furniture is all fine, and the carpets - thick carpets everywhere - and so much decoration. Everything is so nice and very, very luxurious !" "You happen to be here," Harry said, grinning.He looked at her with interest, "You know what, I can't help being excited to see you with them—" When Lydia walked quickly into the room, he shut up and said no more.

She came straight up to him. "How are you, Harry? I'm Lydia—Alfred's wife." "Hello, Lydia." He shook hands with her, and took a quick look at her expressive, intelligent face, admiring the way she walked—few women walked so beautifully. . Lydia was watching him too. Charming though he was--he looked rough, she thought.I don't trust him at all... "How does it look here after all these years? Is it very different or the same?" she said with a smile. "It's almost the same." He looked around. "This room has been renovated."

"Oh, many times." He said, "I mean by you... you made it -- different." "Yes, I hope so..." He grinned at her, a mischievous smile that suddenly appeared, which surprised her and reminded her of the old man upstairs. "It's more tasteful here now, and I remember hearing that old Alfred married a woman who came to England with William the Conqueror." Lydia smiled and said, "I believe so, but our family has fallen by now." Harry said, "How's old Alfred? Still the same goddamn old conservative, nothing changed?" "I don't know if you think there's any change in him."

"Where are the others? Scattered all over the UK?" "No—you know, they're all here for Christmas." Harry's eyes widened. "Routine Christmas family gathering? What's the matter with the old guy? He's never been emotionally stingy. I don't remember him caring so much about his family. He must have changed." "Maybe." Lydia said without emotion in her voice. Pilar watched all this, her eyes wide open with interest. Harry said: "How's old George? Still so stingy? He used to howl if he got a halfpence out of his allowance!"

Lydia said: "George is in Parliament now, he's MP for Westlingham." "What? Goldfish in Congress? Gosh, that's good." Harry threw his head back and laughed. The laughter was loud - unabashed, and very rude in the confines of the room.Pilar held his breath, and Lydia flinched. At this moment, sensing movement behind him, Harry stopped laughing and turned around abruptly.He didn't hear anyone coming in, but Alfred was standing there quietly.He was looking at Harry with an odd look on his face.Harry stood for a moment, then a smile slowly crept across his face.He took a step forward. "Oh," said he, "isn't this Alfred?" Alfred nodded. "Hello, Harry," he said.They stood there, staring at each other.Lydia gasped.She thought: What absurdity, like two dogs - you look at me and I look at you... Pilar's eyes widened.She thought to herself, "They look ridiculous standing there like that...why don't they hug? Oh no, the English don't do that. But they can always say something. Why do they just look at each other Woolen cloth?" Finally Harry spoke first: "Well, uh, it's weird to be back here again!" "I think so—yes, it's been years since you—gone." Harry looked up, his hand on his chin.That was one of his habitual actions, and it carried a provocative meaning. "Yes," he said, "I'm glad I'm back..." He paused, emphasizing the next word—family.