Andrew."
"Yes?" He looked at Jane and she exclaimed with a deep nod,
"Uh-huh."
A piercing scream coming from the hall checked the monosyllabic exchange, and Grace screwed up her face against the sound as it was repeated again and again. There came now cries of "Goodbye, goodbye.
Thank you, goodbye. Merry Christmas ... same to you. Goodbye,"
followed by the front door banging, then into the drawing-room was borne Yvonne, kicking and struggling in her father's grasp, and yelling at the limit of her lungs, "Want to. Want to. Down, Daddy. Want to."
Gerald, stalking to the hearth, dropped the child none too gently on to the rug by the fire, and immediately his hands released her she stopped her screeching.
Yvonne looked round the company there was hardly a tear stain on her face then suddenly she laughed and, turning over on the rug lay on her stomach and kicked her toes into the soft pile.
"Something's got to be done in that quarter," Beatrice nodded downwards.
"She's becoming a perfect little devil."
"If you want to have harmony have a child in the house. What do you say?" Gerald addressed Andrew in a condescending, man-to-man style, and Andrew, getting to his feet, answered quietly, "That's one thing I can't give my opinion on."
"No, no, of course not. Well, you don't know what you've missed."
Grace too rose to her feet and, looking at Andrew, she said quietly,
"You'll be on your own tomorrow, Andrew?" And without waiting for an answer she continued, "Will you come and have dinner with us?"
Andrew was looking at the woman before him. Then his gaze moved from her to the members of her family, to Beatrice, the son-in-law, Jane and, lastly, Stephen. They were all staring at him, waiting he knew for his answer. He looked back at Grace again and it was a moment before he spoke.
"Thanks, I'd like that," he said briefly.
"Good night now." The good night was for her. Then, giving a nod that included the rest of them, he said again, "Good night." As he went towards the door he paused for a moment and, turning and looking back towards Grace, he said, "A Happy Christmas to you."
"And to you, Andrew."
Their voices were low and level.
No-one saw him out, and when the door had closed on him the silence still held, giving him time to cross the hall.
Beatrice was the first to speak.
"But, Mammy," she said, 'there'll be company, Jane's friend . She paused to cast a glance towards Jane.
"George."
"George will be all the better for meeting Andrew, Beatrice."
"But Andrew will be awkward. Mammy; he'll be out of place, it's never happened before."
"Andrew won't be out of place, Beatrice ... I knew Andrew before I knew any of you." Grace nicked her gaze quickly around them.
"I've never known him to be awkward in any company. Andrew is one of the family;
I've always considered him so. "
And now she looked towards Stephen and she saw that his face was working. At this moment he was without his facade, and when she said,
"Well, Stephen, what have you to say about it?" she watched him wet his lips and wait a moment before speaking, and she knew he was going to great lengths to control his temper.
"Well, since you ask, and since you appear to be so much better, I feel that I should speak frankly." He paused and she inclined her head towards him.
"It wouldn't have happened if Father had been alive, would it? And I can't see that the excuse is that he's alone tomorrow.
He was alone on Christmas Day two years ago when Father was here and there was no talk then of inviting him to dinner, and I feel I know why. " Again he paused.
"Father didn't like the man, he never liked him. Why he kept him on I don't know, but there's one thing I know for a certainty: he would never have received an invitation to Christmas dinner from Father."
Whatever effect Stephen's words had on his mother was not evident except for a slight pressure on the lips her expression remained the same but the effect certainly showed on the rest of them, for