CHAPTER 1
If he had ever looked back upon his life, David Howard might have realised that it fell rather neatly into three stages. There was the period of his youth, when he had been left in the care of his sister after the death of their mother. She had survived her husband by several years, but her heart had clearly never been in it. David remembered his father, but not as well as he would have liked, relying on Fiona to keep his memory alive. Fiona was his one anchor in life at that time. As brother and sister, they had always been close, and drew closer together still as David climbed through boyhood into youth. The transition had not always been easy, as sister acted sometimes as a sister, more often as a parent, a task made no simpler by the few years there were between them in their respective ages. There were the inevitable strains as Fiona grew up herself and learned to cope with the occasional young man calling on her, a learning process often made difficult by a boy, not quite a child, but not yet adult, who was always there in the background. Not every young man understood the situation. Not every young man had enough patience to cope with it. Those who couldn’t understand were never asked to visit again.
Fiona had her own life now and a family of her own. Training to be a concert pianist, she had met Greg, a pleasant young American, who had swept her off her feet. Aware of her self imposed obligations, she kept him waiting until David was old enough to go to university. Greg had understood. Greg had been patience itself. Generous almost to a fault, he had loaded both Fiona and David with so many tactfully given presents that their financial situation eased considerably. Never actually poor, brother and sister had always been keenly aware of the need to make their stock of money stretch to take in the essentials of life. After Greg appeared, nothing was ever quite the same again for Fiona. Even then, it had been an effort to get her to accept changing circumstances. David recalled the situation well.
’You’ll hardly see me any more, Fiona,’ he had told her. ’I’ll be studying most of the time. You’re the one I have to thank for getting me to university in the first place, and I’ll not be wasting the opportunity.’
’That’s nonsense,’ protested Fiona. ’You’re going there on your own merits.’
’Well, I should hope so. Just the same, if it hadn’t been for you taking over when mum died, I’d have got nowhere, merits or not. It’s not been easy for you, I know that. In any case, you’ll not want to have me at home every weekend. You should have some time for yourself. If you’re lonely, invite Greg to stay.’ He grinned. ’I’m broadminded. Let him stay overnight if you like. I always wanted to be an uncle.’
David dodged the cushion thrown at him with practised ease and continued speaking. ’Seriously though, he’s a nice fellow. You should marry him, he’d take you like a shot, you know that.’
’Yes, I do know. In fact, brother dear, he’s asked me more than once.’
’I’m glad to hear it. I just thought he was being a bit slow, which doesn’t sound a bit like him. Well?’
Fiona sighed. ’I’m not sure, David.’
’Don’t you want to marry him? I always got the impression you wouldn’t say no if he had asked.’
’Yes I do. I’ll admit that much. But it’s not as simple as that, is it? I mean, we’ve been together now since mum died. I can’t just sweep seven years away as though it had never happened.’
David smiled fondly at his sister. ’You’re not capable of it, but that’s not the point. You have a right to a life of your own. You haven’t had all that much, what with me being in the way. And no comments about that, either. I know you’ve done what you felt you had to do, and done it willingly. Just the same, you do have a right to your own life. If you don’t believe that, then accept that I have a right to a life of my own. I’ll always be grateful to you for what you’ve done for me, but it’s time I struck out. I know what I want to do, and I can’t do that with a spinster sister hanging round my neck every time I want to bring a harem home, can I? Go on, marry Greg before he gets tired of waiting.’
Fiona smiled at her brother with affection and relief. ’But he wants me to move to America with him. Not immediately perhaps, but when his job here is finished. That may not be for some time yet, but he won’t be here for ever.’
’So? It is civilised, I understand. More or less. Practically. Well, almost bound to be.’
’But you’ll be on your own if I do that.’
He grinned at her. ’I don’t expect to spend all my time studying. I understand there are creatures of the female persuasion in university. Creatures with brains as well as, hopefully, good looks. There should be a few minutes in the week I can spare to do a bit of chatting up. If not, it won’t be for want of trying.’
There had been more, but eventually, Fiona had been persuaded. Neither she nor David had regretted her moving away, although he often felt he would like to see her more often. Greg, he felt, was a thoroughly pleasant man, and a patient one, hard working and sensible. Just the sort of man David thought Fiona deserved.
Then there was the period of hectic work, not altogether unconnected to the first period. It was a time he always thought of with pleasure, albeit a time long since past. It remained in the past because of circumstances he wouldn’t want to repeat, even though he had many happy memories of that stage in his life. It had been a time when he was young and worked for the sake of working, when work was a pleasure that needed no excuse, carving out a career for himself in a near frantic explosion of activity. Not only for himself. At first there had been Stella. Stella, who had taken him for a ride, a ride he had been only too willing to accept. Foolish of him, he knew, and had known even then. Stella, for whom even the best was never enough. Stella, who would have stripped him of his wealth, his self respect and his dignity before casting him off like a well worn piece of clothing, as she had done to so many others.
That was before Laura. Laura had come later. Laura, who had taught him to slow down, to accept life as it came, to see instead of simply looking. Laura, who had taught him first to look. Laura, who had given him many reasons to slow down. Laura, who had taken their daughter to their shared grave after so few, so pitifully few years together.
After Laura there had come a long, slow period of settled living, in which he had transformed boredom almost into an art form. A life which was very different from that he had known earlier. A life in which he deliberately turned his back on society and lived with his own dark thoughts until some sort of life became liveable if not exactly bearable. He had rejected the repeated offers of sister and brother in law to move in with them, wanting to suffer the agonies of a too sharp memory entirely on his own. He had felt that he didn’t need people, especially understanding and helpful people. Even a brief visit had convinced him of the rightness of the decision. His decision, right or wrong. America was a great place, with friendly, if somewhat overpowering people. Nevertheless, it was still a foreign country, and the idea of foreign countries brought back too many happy memories of a type he had no wish to recall, but rather to wallow in the misery of dark and dreadful thoughts. England, at that time, was the only place he wished to be in, if he wished to be anywhere at all.
It had been a settled life disturbed by nothing very much at all, until he met Alison. Alison, who had brought him back to life again. Alison, so unlike Laura, yet strangely having so much in common with her. It had all started so long ago, with a man he hardly recognised, a man that at this end of his life seemed to be quite a different person altogether.