CHAPTER 21
Catriona arrived three days later. A taxi drew up outside the house, a woman got out, walked up the path and rang the bell. Two pairs of eyes watched her through the half open curtain in the living room. Henry felt a small hand creep into his own. It was trembling slightly. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
‘It’s gran,’ whispered Lynn. ‘I told you she would come.’
‘You wait in here,’ said Henry. ‘I’ll see to her. After all, I’m the one she has come to talk to, and I think it’s probably better if you stay out of sight. If you are needed, I’ll come for you, but that shouldn’t be necessary.’
He disengaged his fingers with difficulty and strode to the front door. Opening it, he nodded courteously to the woman standing on the step.
‘Good afternoon,’ he said. ‘Can I help you?’
The woman studied him for a moment with a puzzled expression on her face before answering.
‘I’m Mrs. Walker. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. I’ve only heard tell of you as Henry, assuming I’m addressing the right person.’
Henry inclined his head. It could have meant something, or it could have meant nothing.
‘If so,’ she continued, ‘I believe you have my granddaughter, Lynn Parrish, living here.’
‘If you are Lynn’s grandmother, yes, that’s right,’ said Henry. ‘I gather you have something about the arrangement you wish to discuss.’
‘I have,’ came the grim sounding reply.
‘Then perhaps you had better come inside. This way please. The library is where I normally see any visitors.’
He walked a few paces to the library, noting with amusement that the living room door was partly open, although he knew he had closed it when leaving. With an extra feeling of compassion, he left the library door similarly ajar.
‘May I take your coat? It’s so warm in here, I’m sure you would be more comfortable without it. Please take a seat. I can recommend that armchair as being perhaps the best in the room.’
Slightly overwhelmed by the old fashioned courtesy, Catriona removed her coat and handed it to Henry, who placed it on a coat hanger at the back of the door.
‘Some refreshment, perhaps,’ he suggested. ‘Tea? Coffee? I have some rather splendid cakes from a local bakery.’
‘Thank you,’ said Catriona. ‘I would appreciate coffee. I’ve come rather a long way.’
Henry excused himself, reappearing a few minutes later with a tray, on which were a selection of the cakes he had mentioned, together with a fine porcelain jug of coffee and two silver bowls, containing milk and sugar respectively. The bowls and the jug all presented that deceptive simplicity of design that told of high cost. Henry was rather pleased with them. He poured, and offered a cup to Catriona on a small table beside her chair, before moving to sit with his back to the window. From there, he could see every expression on Catriona’s face, while his own was in deep shadow, his reason for offering her the chair she sat in. Catriona took less than half her coffee, then spoke.
‘About my granddaughter,’ she said.
‘Lynn?’ said Henry, going on the attack immediately. ‘A splendid girl. One of the best. A good head on her shoulders. You must be very proud of her.’
‘Proud? Ashamed is more like it.’
‘Ashamed?’ Henry raised his eyebrows.
‘Yes, ashamed,’ snapped Catriona. ‘I never wanted her to waste her time like this in the first place. She should have found herself a job, a proper job as soon as she left school. History studies! What on earth use is that?’
‘Well, I would have thought that was something for her to decide for herself,’ said Henry in a placid tone.
‘That may be your opinion,’ said Catriona stiffly. ‘I happen to think differently. She’s just a child. She has no business sponging from her family. I will be frank with you, Mr...?’
Henry pursed his lips before answering. ‘Forsyth. Henry Forsyth. You used to know me better as Harry, but that was before I grew old enough to become more formal.’
‘Harry?’ Catriona’s voice faltered as she took a closer look at the man in front of her. She rose from her seat and came to stand next to him, looking through the shadows at his features.
‘Harry?’ she repeated. ‘I knew there was something familiar about you when I came in. That’s it. Harry Forsyth. Lynn only referred to you as Henry, so it never registered.’
‘My Sunday name,’ apologised Henry. ‘It’s just that nowadays every day seems to be a Sunday. I’ve retired, you see,’ he added inconsequentially. ‘Some time ago, in fact. I haven’t worked for years.’
‘But I never dreamed... Lynn didn’t mention anything.’
‘It may be that Lynn wasn’t aware of the fact,’ said Henry, considering that it was probably better not to give this woman any extra ammunition for her fight. ‘How would she, after all, unless I had told her?’ It wasn’t really a lie, he told himself, beating his conscience down effortlessly, just a creative truthfulness.
‘How did you two meet?’ demanded Catriona, somewhat shocked but recovering herself rapidly, determined not to let the purpose of her visit be distracted.
‘In a way that was almost a cliché,’ said Henry. ‘She fell off her bicycle just outside my house. Practically at my feet, as it happens. Naturally I took her inside and treated her out of the first aid box. I’d do as much for anyone.’
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ admitted Catriona grudgingly. ‘What I would like to know is how things got to the present stage.’
‘Present stage?’ asked Henry, determined not to give anything away before he had to.
‘I think you know perfectly well what I mean. Lynn tells me that you have offered her a room in your house for as long as she is studying, and that you are also subsidising her in cash. Is this correct?’
‘Quite correct,’ said Henry.
‘Why?’ she snapped.
Henry heaved a sigh. This was going to be difficult. ‘Why? Apart from the fact that that’s my business, I think she has potential, that’s why.’
‘A statement which tells me nothing. Potential for what, may I ask, although I shudder to think what the answer may be?’
‘Nothing immoral or illegal, I assure you. Not at my age. Just potential, generally. I’m no expert, but I do see a good deal of the young men and women who are students here. I’ve even employed some of them in the past, and I think I can judge their value pretty well. Lynn strikes me as one who could develop a strong academic career. One with money in it, if that happens to be important.’
‘It’s not exactly unimportant,’ said Catriona. ‘I started being frank with you a few minutes ago. I’ll finish that statement. The family has been used to better times, as you must remember, but for various reasons which don’t concern anybody else, finances are a little more strained than I would like them to be. For that reason, if for no other I consider that Lynn has a duty to start earning. I do not consider that she should be encouraged in her foolishness.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Henry.
‘Meaning that you tell her she cannot stay with you, and that you cannot subsidise her.’
‘Ah. I see. There’s just one thing. I really don’t think I can do that.’
‘Why not? It’s a perfectly reasonable request.’
‘Is it? It sounded more like a demand to me.’
Catriona lost what little patience she had been displaying. ‘It can sound whatever you like. The fact remains that your interference in family matters must, and will, stop.’
‘Er... no,’ said Henry.
‘No?’ Catriona was not accustomed to being defied, and her voice showed it.
‘No,’ said Henry again, shaking his head slowly. ‘My apologies. It’s a bit abrupt, perhaps. I’m not usually so ill mannered. At least I try not to be. Perhaps you might like to hear an explanation.’
‘I most certainly would, though I warn you, I will not change my mind.’
Henry sat for a long moment, marshalling his thoughts. ‘Do you remember our dancing days, Catriona? The Palais? Eric Delaney? Joe Loss? Patent leather shoes?’
‘Do stick to the point, Harry.’
‘I am, Catriona. Believe me, I am. I just want to set the background, that’s all. Besides, you will need to make allowances for the maunderings of an old man. You know, she reminds me in many ways of you. That is, of you at about the same age, of the way you used to be. You’ve changed, Catriona, changed quite a lot.’
‘We all change, Harry. It’s called growing up.’
‘Ah,’ said Henry. ‘Now there you’ve got me. I don’t think I ever learned how to do that. Not really in my vocabulary, you see. Comes of working in a toy shop, I suppose.’ He took pleasure in the jibe. ‘I still have a faith, some might call it a naive and touching faith in my fellow man. By that, I mean that I still believe in the same things now as I did when I was a good deal younger. Well, perhaps not Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy,’ he grinned. ‘Although I’m not too certain even about that. Not just the little things either. I also believe in the big things. Things like Faith. Like Hope. Like Love. I loved you passionately once, Catriona, but you could never meet me on that. Oh, I don’t blame you. I hadn’t much to offer. For what must have seemed like very good reasons to you, you made your choice, and I wasn’t included. Fair enough. That one I didn’t win. But I did love you. I never looked at another woman in all these years, although I don’t ask you to believe it. I find it a bit difficult to believe myself.’
Catriona sniffed. ‘More fool you, then.’
Henry gave a sad smile. ‘Yes, you’re probably right. I always was a fool. That sort of fool, anyway. So you got married to someone else, and forgot all about me until just now. I’m rather surprised, by the way, that your husband isn’t here to add force to your arguments.’
‘I’m divorced,’ she said shortly.
‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ said Henry, thinking it expedient to hide the fact that the information was already second hand. ‘You deserved better than that.’
‘I don’t know what I deserved,’ she said, ‘ but that’s what I got. Can we please keep to the business in hand.’
‘Almost there, Catriona. Almost there. Do you remember how I promised you everything I had? Rather more years ago than I guess either of us would wish to think about, but I did make that promise. Remember?’
‘I remember,’ she sighed, her eyes rolling upwards to the ceiling. ‘It was an easy promise to make when you had nothing.’
‘I’m the faithful type, Catriona. Always was. The promise I made then holds good now. You indicated that your finances are a little tight. Well, I haven’t done so badly over the years.’ He paused. ‘I still offer you what I have now with only two exceptions. A man has to live, but my needs are really quite modest. That’s one. The other is that I continue subsidising Lynn until she has finished university and begins working. Everything else is yours. If you want it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Catriona flared out in a hot temper. ‘I haven’t time for these silly games.’
‘Oh, I have. But no game this,’ answered Henry.
‘No? Well, if I was idiot enough to take you at your word, I would just remind you that since you had nothing to offer all those years ago, except floor scrubbing, you are hardly likely to have anything to offer now.’ She sounded angry.
‘You don’t want it?’ asked Henry, in a small voice that had been a warning sign to those who had got to know him well during his years in business.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Catriona repeated. ‘If you have anything to give away, go and find somebody else of your own class to give it to. I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything you might have. I never did. That’s just one of the many things you never seemed to understand.’
There was a long silence before Henry replied. ‘I see. Very well. As you wish. The offer had to be made, Catriona. I wouldn’t have slept nights unless I had made it. But, it’s your decision. Again. I accept it. Again.’
She shook her head irritably. ‘What I want to hear is your decision about Lynn.’
‘No you don’t,’ said Henry, his voice gaining strength, almost rasping with the sound of someone accustomed to command. The sound gave Catriona a jolt. ‘What you want is to hear your decision, not mine, about Lynn. I’ve already given you mine, but I’ll repeat it, so there is no doubt about the matter. I’ll not force her to live here. I can’t do that, nor would I wish to do so. But neither will I force her to leave. She can stay for as long as she wishes. She could have been our granddaughter, Catriona. For that alone, I feel I owe her something.’
‘Then I wish you well of her. I wash my hands of the entire affair. But I tell you this. You take her in, you support her. Not another penny does she get from me, and I’ll see to it that she gets nothing from the rest of the family either. I hope you can afford it, Harry Forsyth.’
‘Um,’ murmured Henry, his voice subsiding. ‘It’s Henry, not Harry. I’ve gone respectable since you knew me. As for affording it, I’ll just have to see if I can manage out of my pension.’
‘My coat, if you please,’ said Catriona stiffly. ‘I can see I’m wasting my time here. I’m leaving.’
Henry watched as Catriona walked rapidly along the road to a taxi rank that was visible in the near distance. He waited until she climbed into a cab and was driven away. Thoughtfully, he turned and entered his house again, shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. The living room door was firmly closed again. He opened it and sat down in an armchair opposite a pale looking young woman.
‘She’s gone,’ he said.
‘Yes. I saw her leave,’ answered Lynn. ‘How...? What...?’ She found it difficult to speak, to express her thoughts. Henry nodded slowly.
‘You continue living here,’ he said. ‘If you want to, of course.’
‘Really? Gran agreed?’
‘Well, no, I wouldn’t say that exactly,’ said Henry. ‘She’s a stubborn woman. She indicated that she would have nothing more to do with the matter.’
‘If you believe that,’ said Lynn, ‘you don’t know too much about her. She’ll be back. We haven’t seen the last of her, not by a long way.’
Henry shrugged carelessly. ‘If she wishes. It doesn’t matter. It’s my house. I’m not obliged to let her in. The important question is, are you staying?’
Lynn’s lips parted and her eyes grew wider. ‘May I? Oh yes please.’