The Birdcage Read Online Free PDF

Cartwright.
    â€˜She’s pretty, isn’t she?’ he says later, hurrying along at his mother’s side. ‘I like her.’
    â€˜Perhaps that’s why she says that you’re like your father.’
    Her voice is sharp, the happiness is gone, and as he trudges back to the car his spirits flutter down and make a tiny cold pain inside him. He fingers the two sticks of chocolate in his pocket: one for him and one for Grandfather, and he still has two pennies left. He climbs into the car, kneeling up on the front seat so that he can see out properly, and as they drive down The Steep he remembers that they are going home to Michaelgarth and he is happy again.
    As she drives along the familiar narrow lanes, between high-banked hedges, Marina is unaware of autumn’s magic. The haws gleam crimson against fading leaves of yellow, hiding the luscious purple blackberries which cluster on rich-red brambles, and the sun is slipping below the blue-black rim of Dunkery Hill. Marina sees none of it: inside her head is a muddle of images and she is torn between guilt and suspicion. She sees Felix – hands in his pockets, laughing with Helen Cartwright – and remembers the instant twisting fear that stifles every other normal reaction. She knows that there is no reason why he shouldn’t talk to an old friend yet she is incapable of responding naturally; of calling across the street to him, as Piers did, or crossing to join them.
    â€˜Hello, Helen,’ she could have said, ‘hello, darling,’ and let him kiss her as he had wanted to, just a little affectionate kiss on the cheek. Instead, fear and rage held her aloof, recoiling from his gesture, hating him for standing with pretty Helen Cartwright in her silly hat and, no doubt, paying her compliments. If only she could have slipped her arm within his own, smiled back at Helen from a position of strength by his side, instead of remaining apart, mistrusting Helen’s look of amusement, sheltering behind disdain.
    Marina’s hands tighten on the wheel: misery and anger war within her. Each time she vows that she will be different, that she will change, but each time that reaction is so sharp, so quick, that she has no time to fight it down and to remember that she means to trust him. She loves him – and hates him – because he is good-looking and attractive, because he likes to laugh and draws other people to him. She suspects every woman who comes near him and feels some kind of need to punish him for that quality, that warmth and generosity, which is like a magnet to men and women alike. He tries to understand and works hard to show that her suspicions are unfounded. That remark to Piers, ‘I’ve been with old Mrs Baker at Myrtle Cottage,’ was meant for her and, decoded, meant: ‘No, I have not been having lunch with Helen Cartwright.’
    She bites her lips with agitation, feeling remorse. As they climb away from the coast she sees Michaelgarth, standing strong and invulnerable on the hill, and she feels balanced again, more calm. She will pour Felix a drink when he comes home, cook something special for dinner, and later they will make love. She relaxes a little, changing gear to turn up the drive, and smiles at Piers, kneeling beside her on the passenger seat, looking eagerly up at the house.
    â€˜We’re home,’ she says to him and sees his answering beam of relief. For the moment all is well.

CHAPTER TWO
    The old Morris bumps through the stone archway that leads into the garth and comes to rest in the open-fronted barn. Piers has to use both hands to open the door but then he is out, running across the ancient cobbles and in through the scullery.
    â€˜Grandfather,’ he shouts. ‘Where are you?’
    He glances round the kitchen and passes into the hall. Even though he is in a tremendous hurry he hesitates here, tilting back his head to stare up at the soaring stone walls, dazzled by the