A High Price to Pay (4 page)

papers for us,' Melanie said promptly. 'She says it's only right we

should know what wickedness there is in the world.'

'Well, I think I shall write to Miss Lesley when you return to school.'

'Don't you mean "if"?' Melanie muttered, but in too low a voice for

her mother to hear. Alison shot her a warning glance.

'Mr Bristow's personal affairs are no concern of ours,'-she pointed

out. 'The least we can do is leave him in peace to conduct them. And

that means finding somewhere else to live as quickly as possible.'

'But where are we going to find with sufficient room .to

accommodate us?' Mrs Mortimer demanded. 'There's the grand piano

to consider, for one thing.'

Alison controlled a swift surge of impatience. 'None of us plays the

piano, Mother,' she said gently. 'I think it would be better to let it go to

auction.'

Mrs Mortimer's back straightened in outrage. 'May I ask, Alison, if

you're determined to make me live in squalor?' she demanded.

'I'm not making you do anything, I hope— except maybe face a few

facts,' Alison said wearily. 'We have to accustom ourselves to things

being very different in future.'

Mrs Mortimer's eyes filled with tears. 'Aren't you beeing a little

insensitive, Alison? I'm sure I need no such reminder.' She pressed

her handkerchief to her lips, while her daughters exchanged

despairing glances. After a pause, she went on, 'Hugh and Beth have

very kindly asked me to stay with them, while I consider my future. I

may well take them up on their offer. Now, I'm going to lie down for a

while, and try to recover some of my strength. I presume dinner will

still be served in this house this evening, Alison?' And on this, she

swept from the room with a certain majesty.

'Mummy's brought making people feel guilty to a fine art,' Melanie

remarked dispassionately when they were alone. 'I think that's

probably why Daddy never confided in her about the mess he was in.

He knew she'd make it a hundred times worse.'

'Don't say that, Melly.' Alison gave her a wry look. 'This must have

been the worst week of her life. She loved Daddy very much, you

know.'

'Yes, but she never helped him.' Melanie put another log on the fire.

'If he'd asked her to economise, she wouldn't have known what he

meant. He couldn't—lean on her when the going got rough. I don't

suppose she even knew he'd been having chest pains for months.'

'No, but then neither did I,' Alison said quietly, wincing a little.

'He probably thought you had enough on your plate already.' Melanie

began to fiddle with the handle of the poker. She said suddenly, 'This

is going to be my last term at Mascombe Park, isn't it?'

'The honest answer is, "Probably",' Alison admitted after a pause.

'I guessed.' Melanie's face was mournful. 'I suppose I could try and

get a place in the local comprehensive, although the course will

probably be different. Or would it be more help if I tried to get a job?'

'No.' Alison shook her head positively. 'You're Oxbridge material,

Mel. You can't give that prospect up without a struggle.'

'I don't want to.' Melanie gave a faint grin. 'But something tells me

that if we can't manage the fees, Miss Lesley will give me up without

a struggle all right.'

'There used to be bursaries and things,' Alison frowned. 'I suppose we

could enquire.'

'Mm.' Melanie gave a slight grimace. 'It would be hateful, though,

going cap in hand. I'm not sure I wouldn't rather leave.'

'Well, don't let's make any hasty decisions,' said Alison. 'Mr Liddell's

coming back tomorrow to talk over a few things, and I'll see what he

has to say.' She hesitated. 'I would have mentioned it earlier, but I

don't want to discuss personal family things jn front of Nicholas

Bristow.'

'You really don't like him, do you?' Melanie gave a little sigh. 'I think

he's amazing! I wish I was Hester Monclair, lucky bitch. Of course

she's gorgeous-looking, and sophisticated, and she probably knows

exactly how to turn him on in bed ...'

Alison was surprised into unwilling laugher. 'Mel, for God's sake!

Don't let Mummy hear you.'

'Don't worry, I won't.' Melanie put her head on one side. 'But don't

you fancy him, Ally? If you're honest, in your heart of hearts, just a

little? You can't really prefer boring old Simon.'

'Simon is neither boring nor old,' Alison said calmly. 'And I wasn't

aware that my sexual preferences—or Nick Bristow's for that

matter— were on the "A" level curriculum. Stick to Eng. Lit.—it's

safer.'

'What's safe?' asked Melanie, getting restlessly to her feet. 'We're all

going to be living dangerously from now on.'

* * *

to find that the office hadn't changed. And nor had Simon, who

seemed endearingly pleased to see her. The locality had been buzzing

with gossip since the funeral, Alison knew, but Simon, with noble

tact, refrained from asking any questions about the disposal of

Ladymead.

He simply said that a smaller, more convenient house was vital, and

promised to keep his eyes and ears open for suitable properties

coming on to the market.

She was glad to be back at work. Melanie had returned to Mascombe

Park, although for how much longer was anyone's guess. Alec Liddell

had pursed his lips ruefully over the question of school fees, and

when Alison had attempted to discuss the problem with her mother,

Mrs Mortimer had dissolved into floods of tears.

It was not an attitude which helped, Alison thought tiredly, as she

looked through an assortment of bungalow details. But then her

mother's behaviour generally was giving her deep cause for concern.

She wasn't eating, and hardly ever left her room. Alison had tried to

persuade her to take up the Bosworths' invitation, although she

supposed, privately, it was a rotten trick to play on Aunt Beth, but

Mrs Mortimer wouldn't hear of it. She seemed to have it fixed on her

mind that if she ever left Ladymead, it would be for ever, and Alison

knew that the doctor was as worried about her state of mind as she

was herself. He had started talking in guarded tones about the

possibility of treatment in a complete change of scene, and the sound

of it made Alison's heart sink.

'Are you saying my mother needs to see a psychiatrist?' she had

asked.

Dr Barnet had given her a straight look. 'She's clearly in a very

disturbed state,' he had returned. 'Bereavement is usually enough of a

trauma for anyone to cope with, but when you add the other losses

your mother is suffering .. .' He shrugged. 'Frankly, it's enough to

undermine the emotional constitution of someone with three times

her strength. And, unfortunately, she's become fixated on this house

as a symbol of her security rather than you or Melanie. It's not a

healthy situation.'

He could say that again, Alison thought, shoving the bungalow

details back into their folders with scant respect. Nicholas Bristow

had said he wouldn't evict them—but the way her mother was

reacting, he might have to.

'It's my home,' her mother kept reiterating. 'My only home. He can't

take it away from me!'

The fact that they could no longer afford to live there seemed to have

escaped her completely, Alison thought wryly.

She was thankful to have her work to immerse herself in once again,

and she and Simon had already tentatively discussed the terms by

which she would work for him full time.

It was a relief to know she would have a wage she could live on, but it

didn't solve Melanie's problem, as the letter she had received only that

morning served to underline. Melanie had had a preliminary

interview with Miss Lesley, her formidable headmistress. It had been

relatively civilised, Mel wrote, but the question of where the next

term's fees would be coming from had inevitably been raised.

And that was the problem in the forefront of Alison's mind as she

drove her elderly Mini back to Ladymead that evening.

As she rounded the last bend in the drive, she was surprised to see

another car parked outside the front door. She didn't recognise the

number plate, she thought frowningly, as she switched off her engine

and got out, and she certainly wasn't expecting visitors.

As she walked into the hall, Mrs Horner appeared. 'It's that Mr

Bristow,' she said in an undertone. 'He's been here over an hour.

Asked for you specific, and not for madam, so I made him some

coffee and hope I did right.'

'Quite right,' Alison said promptly, her spirits plummeting. 'Is he in

the drawing room?'

'He is, miss. I told him madam wasn't too well, and that you were at

work, but it made no difference. Said he'd wait.'

'Oh?' Alison returned wanly, as she unbuttoned her jacket.

He was standing by the fireplace, one arm resting on the mantelshelf,

as he looked broodingly down into the flames. His head came round

sharply as Alison closed the drawing room door.

'You're late, Miss Mortimer,' he remarked impatiently. 'I didn't know

your work included overtime.'

'It doesn't as a rule.' She dropped her jacket over the back of a chair,

aware of the disparaging glance he sent her plain navy dress. 'Just as I

was leaving, my boss called me back to say he'd heard about a cottage

that might suit us.'

'Oh.' He didn't appear to receive the news with ill-concealed delight.

In fact, he frowned slightly. 'Where is this place?'

'Far enough away for us to be able to avoid each other,' she returned

composedly.

His lips tightened. 'I see. And have you made an offer for it.?'

'Hardly. My mother and I have to see it first.' Alison touched the

coffee pot and grimaced. 'This is cold. May I offer you some fresh?'

'No, thanks,' he said. 'But I'd sell my soul for a large Scotch—it's been

one hell of a day.'

She gave him a surprised look under her lashes as she turned to get his

drink. She was probably imagining things, but he seemed almost ill at

ease.

'And- you'd better have one too.' His voice followed her. 'You may

need it.'

She poured a measure of Scotch into a glass and handed it to him. 'No,

thank you. I've managed to cope so far without propping myself up

with alcohol.'

'My congratulations.' He raised his glass in a parody of a toast.

'You're clearly not as fragile as you look. I hope you can overlook the

weaknesses of lesser mortals.'

'Admitting to weakness?' Alison asked sweetly. 'How very

uncharacteristic!'

'Make the most of it,' he drawled, his eyes glinting. There was a brief

silence, then he said abruptly, 'I didn't intend to come here in person. I

was going to approach you through Alex Liddell in the first instance.'

She stared at him, suddenly dry-mouthed. She said huskily, 'I suppose

you want us to leave.'

'No, on the contrary ...'

'You've changed your mind? You're going to let us stay here?'

Alison's heart leapt in joyous incredulity as she stared at him.

He frowned again. 'I'm afraid it's not as simple as th^t. A few days ago

I contacted Liddell, and told him I would prefer it if the present staff

continued working for me, if they were willing. I mentioned I'd like to

meet the housekeeper for a preliminary chat.' He paused again. 'I

must confess his reply staggered me.'

Alison sat down. 'He told you I was the housekeeper?' She shrugged.

'There's no problem, Mr Bristow. I can guarantee I won't take you to

the industrial tribunal for firing me, and hiring someone else.'

He said abruptly, 'Isn't this formality rather overdone? My name is

Nick.'

'To your friends, perhaps,' she said coolly. 'But you'll never count me

in that small and exclusive company. I prefer formality.'

'As you wish,' he said coldly. 'But it imposes additional difficulties on

the proposition I'm about to put to you.'

Alison's brows shot up. 'You're not offering me the job of

housekeeper, I hope?'

'Yes, I am,' he said shortly. 'And before you turn me down, perhaps

you'd better listen to the whole deal.'

'You think any deal on earth could persuade me to be your servant?'

Alison asked dazedly. 'My God, you have some gall!'

'Listen to me,' he said impatiently. 'If you agree to what I want, you

can have the lot. The house as your own, a self-contained flat for your

mother— anything you wish.' He hesitated, then added flatly, 'And I

understand from Liddell that your sister's school fees are a problem.

I'll pay them, and see her through university too, if she makes the

grade.'