Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh [85]
With characteristic ruthlessness he tossed his load of explosive without warning into what, till then, had been a happy family party. The library at Marchmain House was being devoted to wedding presents; Lady Marchmain, Julia, Cordelia, and Rex were busy unpacking and listing them. Brideshead came in and watched them for a moment.
'Chinky vases from Aunt Betty,' said Cordelia. 'Old stuff. I remember them on the stairs at Buckborne.'
'What's all this?' asked Brideshead.
'Mr, Mrs, and Miss Pendle-Garthwaite, one early morning tea set. Goode's, thirty shillings, jolly mean.'
'You'd better pack all that stuff up again.'
'Bridey, what do you mean?'
'Only that the wedding's off.'
'Bridey'
'I thought I'd better make some inquiries about my prospective brother-in-law, as no one else seemed interested,' said Brideshead. 'I got the final answer tonight. He was married in Montreal in 1915 to a Miss Sarah Evangeline Cutler, who is still living there.'
'Rex, is this true?'
Rex stood with a jade dragon in his hand looking at it critically; then he set it carefully on its ebony stand and smiled openly and innocently at them all.
'Sure it's true,' he said. 'What about it? What are you all looking so het up about? She isn't a thing to me. She never meant any good. I was only a kid, anyhow. The sort of mistake anyone might make. I got my divorce back in 1919. I didn't even know where she was living till Bridey here told me. What's all the rumpus?'
'You might have told me,' said Julia.
'You never asked. Honest, I've not given her a thought in years.
His sincerity was so plain that they had to sit down and talk about it calmly.
'Don't you realize, you poor sweet oaf,' said Julia, 'that you can't get married as a Catholic when you've another wife alive?'
'But I haven't. Didn't I just tell you we were divorced six years ago.'
'But you can't be divorced as a Catholic.'
'I wasn't a Catholic and I was divorced. I've got the papers somewhere.'
'But didn't Father Mowbray explain to you about marriage?'
'He said I wasn't to be divorced from you. Well, I don't want to be. I can't remember all he told me—sacred monkeys, plenary indulgences, four last things—if I remembered all he told me I shouldn't have time for anything else. Anyhow, what about your Italian cousin, Francesca?—she married twice.'
'She had an 'annulment.'
'All right then, I'll get an annulment. What does it cost? Who do I get it from? Has Father Mowbray got one? I only want to do what's right. Nobody told me.'
It was a long time before Rex could be convinced of the existence of a serious impediment to his marriage. The discussion took them to dinner, lay dormant in the presence of the servants, started again as soon as they were alone, and lasted long after midnight. Up, down, and round the argument circled and swooped like a gull, now out to sea, out of sight, cloud-bound, among irrelevances and repetitions, now right on the patch where the offal floated.
'What d'you want me to do? Who should I see?' Rex kept asking. 'Don't tell me there isn't someone who can fix this.'
'There's nothing to do, Rex,' said Brideshead. 'It simply means your marriage can't take place. I'm sorry from everyone's point of view that it's come so suddenly. You ought to have told us yourself'
'Look said Rex. 'Maybe what you say is right; maybe strictly by law I shouldn't get married in your cathedral. But the cathedral is booked; no one there is asking any questions; the Cardinal knows nothing about it; Father Mowbray knows nothing about it. Nobody except us knows a thing. So why make a lot of trouble? Just stay mum and let the thing go through, as if nothing