Closed Circle (7 page)

"Oh yes, Felix." I practised my sane unseeing smile. "I'll be sure to."

Max had left for Dorking by the time I returned from Napsbury. I did not know when to expect him back and so should not have been surprised though I was when he appeared early on Monday morning. I was digesting my breakfast and smoking a reflective cigarette at the time, while reading an apocalyptic editorial about what everybody now seemed to agree was a full-scale economic crisis. But it was immediately obvious to me that Max's thunderous expression owed nothing to the run on the pound.

"Don't say it," was his cryptic greeting. "Just don't say it."

"Don't say what, Max?"

"That you told me so. You were right, God damn it. Charnwood won't budge an inch." He helped himself to coffee from the still warm pot on the table and ran his hand ruefully over his unshaven chin. "I practically pleaded with the man. Begged him to give me a chance. I was abject."

The philosophical tone to his remarks gave me cause for hope. "He refused to give his consent?" I asked as sympathetically as I could. "It doesn't surprise me."

"He said I wasn't worthy of his daughter, wasn't fit to marry her." He slumped down in the armchair opposite mine, coffee-cup cradled in his hand. "I love her, for God's sake. And she loves me. But he doesn't seem to care."

"I'm sorry, Max, really I am, but it's only what I warned you to expect."

"He took me out into the garden. Walked me round explaining why he'd planted roses here and rhododendrons there. And then he explained why he'd never allow his daughter to marry a man like me. Why the only thing he was prepared to give me was money. And not even that if I didn't abandon Diana sooner rather than later."

I could not suppress an apprehensive intake of breath at this confirmation of my worst fears. Max heard it and shot a forbidding glare at me before continuing.

"You may as well know I tried to persuade Diana to elope with me. After what Charnwood had said, there seemed to be nothing else for it. If I'd succeeded, he'd probably have cut her off without a penny. But you'll be glad to hear she refused. God knows why, but she needs him to approve of what she does. He realizes that, of course. It's why he's so confident of her obedience and of my compliance with his terms."

"So you will comply?"

He stared at me, then slowly shook his head, as if despairing of my ability to understand. "I can't comply, Guy. I love her. Without her .. . two thousand pounds would mean nothing."

I grimaced. "I never thought I'd hear you say such a thing."

"Neither did I. But it's true."

"If Diana won't disobey him, and you won't withdraw, what will you do?"

"Change his mind."

"How?"

"It's why I caught the early train. Diana has an idea she wants to discuss with you."

"With meT

"Yes. She's accompanying Vita on some hat-buying expedition to Harrods today. She can easily slip away for a while and meet you outside. She suggests the door at the corner of Hans Road and Basil Street around noon. Can you be there?"

"I can, but '

"Diana will explain everything. It's our only chance, Guy, hers and mine. Say you'll at least listen to what she has to say."

I could, and perhaps I should, have refused. But already I had begun to hedge my bets. It was obvious Max was not going to give up until our chances of being handsomely bought off were scuppered. And elopement, followed by disinheritance, was to be avoided at all costs. If I could play some part in persuading Charnwood to accept Max as his son-in-law, however, something lucrative might yet be salvaged from the situation. "Very well," I said after a moment's thought. "I'll see her."

There was some pretence of summer in the weather that morning. Waiting in the sunshine at the back of Harrods, it was almost possible to imagine I was feeling hot. I had seen a dozen ladies built and dressed very like Vita go in or out, and a badger-legged old soldier with a chestful of medals and a begging-tin complete two circuits of the building, when Diana Charnwood emerged to remind me that true beauty is a very rare commodity but was in her embodied.

Thank you for coming, Guy," she said, with a smile I could well imagine melting Max's heart. "I knew we could depend on you." She clutched my hand for a second and for about the same length of time I too thought of myself as dependable. "Shall we walk?"

"By all means." We set off along Basil Street. "Max said you were anxious for a word."

"He's told you what happened this week-end?"

"Yes. I'm sorry if '

"My father's attitude isn't your fault. And don't apologize for striking a bargain with him you weren't in a position to honour." Seeing my jaw drop, she smiled and said: "Max has been completely honest with me. He's kept nothing back." This I found hard to believe. Certainly, I did not want to believe it. But clearly Max had been more candid than I would have wished. At every step, I seemed to find the ground cut from beneath me by his new-found capacity for love. "There can be no secrets between a man and the woman who is to be his wife, Guy. Surely you see that?"

"But are you to be his wife, Diana? I gather your father won't hear of it."

"He doesn't understand how love can transform a person's character. Or perhaps he's forgotten. It's sixteen years since Mama died and.. . But you don't want to hear my family history. Papa knows I love Max, but he can't bring himself to believe Max loves me for my own sake." We turned into Hans Crescent. "We have to convince him he's wrong."

"We?"

"I mean you, of course. If you will."

"How can I do such a thing?"

"By explaining that Max has confounded all your expectations."

"He certainly has."

"By explaining, as his friend, that what he feels for me has changed him, that what you and Papa agreed is simply .. . irrelevant." With a toss of the head, she lightly disposed, as only an heiress could, of the small matter of two thousand pounds. Her hair, where the sunlight struck it beneath the brim of her straw hat, was a golden brown flecked with something close to red. Her eyes sparkled with confidence as she looked up at me. And trust seemed magically to be offered, there on the pavement, outside the world's greatest emporium, wherein almost everything else was available and none of it was free. "He'll believe you, Guy, because you and he speak the same language."

"Which isn't the language of love?"

She blushed and looked away. "I don't mean to offend you. I don't even mean to inconvenience you, as apparently I have done by falling in love with your friend."

"It's not a question of '

The old soldier loomed suddenly up in front of us, rattling his tin. Diana gave him half a crown, shaming me into fishing a few pennies from my pocket. I disguised them beneath my hand as I dropped them into the tin. She looked back at him over her shoulder as we proceeded. "Another victim," she murmured. "There are so many. We owe them at least a job, don't you think?"

"Since you ask, no, I don't."

To my surprise, she smiled at me. "So like Max, with this show of heartlessness. But it's not what you really feel, is it?"

"Isn't it?"

"How did Max come to be shot in Macedonia? He says it was an accident."

"So it was, after a fashion."

"What fashion?"

We reached the Brompton Road and began to traverse the main facade of the shop. I debated whether to tell her, then decided I might as well. If Max could be candid, so could I. "A private called Hopkins went berserk. Driven mad by mosquitoes and boredom. Max and I tried to disarm him and he fired his rifle. The bullet struck Max a glancing blow on the head. It wasn't intentional. Hopkins wouldn't have hurt a fly. That's why we both said the rifle had gone off accidentally. Saved Hopkins from the firing squad, though not a lengthy stay in the glass-house. Max reckoned it was the least he could do in the circumstances. The wound got him sent home and invalided out before the war was over. The rest of us were stuck there till long after the Armistice."

"You make a joke of it, but you didn't need to do it, did you? You didn't need to take pity on Private Hopkins."

"I suppose not, but '

"And Max still suffers from headaches because of that, doesn't he? He's been in pain lately, I know. I've seen it in his face. Arguing with my father's probably made it worse."

"All right." I pulled up. "I'll speak to your father." It was still, I firmly told myself, the only practical course to follow. Let Max and Diana believe I was acting altruistically if they wished. The truth was otherwise. And any comparison with a show of humanity in Macedonia thirteen years before was false. "I'll try to change his mind for you. For both of you."

"It's all I ask. Oh, bless you, Guy." She suddenly leant up to kiss me. The touch of her lips against mine was as disarming as it was delightful. But it did not fool me. Not for a moment. "You're a true friend."

"Diana '

"I must go now. Aunt Vita will be expecting me. See Papa as soon as you can. And remember, Max and I are relying on you. Our hopes will be with you."

"Yes, but '

It was too late. Already, she had turned and slipped away through the door held open for her, her patterned dress vanishing in the shadowy interior of the shop. I sighed and started along the road towards the Bunch of Grapes, where Max was waiting for me. According to Diana, their hopes went with me. In which case they were in good keeping so far as I was concerned.

The offices of Charnwood Investments occupied the top floor of an imposing building otherwise given over to an insurance company halfway along Cornhill's southern side. Charnwood's harpy ian secretary consented to allot me twenty minutes in the great man's hectic schedule at three o'clock the following afternoon and I took good care to ensure I was not late.

Charnwood was drinking tea when I arrived, with lemon. There was no sign of milk or sugar, far less a biscuit, and he did not offer me a cup. There was a noticeably brisker air to him than I recalled, a hint of impatience as he waved me to a chair and addressed the matter between us without preamble.

"I take it Mr. Wingate has seen reason and sent you here to conclude our agreement."

"I'm afraid not. He '

"Wearied me with protestations of love for my daughter last week-end. Surely he is not still persisting in his claim to have no financial motive?"

"He is. And I believe him."

"You surprise me, Mr. Horton."

"Max has surprised me. But there's no doubt he loves Diana quite genuinely and she him. He may have begun as a fortune-hunter, but your daughter has transformed him into an adoring suitor."

Charnwood let out a mirthless laugh. "What poppycock!"

"So I thought at first. But they've convinced me otherwise."

"And now you hope to convince meT

"Yes."

"Is two thousand not enough for you? Are you holding out for more, perhaps? I should not, if I were you. The time is not ripe. Haven't you read the newspapers? The party leaders are being recalled from their holidays. The bankers are in emergency session. Rumours are abroad in Threadneedle Street that the Bank of England will soon be unable to meet its commitments. What will your two thousand pounds be worth then? My advice to you is to take it while you still can and convert it into dollars at the earliest possible opportunity."

"If only I could. Unhappily, Max is no longer interested in money."

"But you are?"

"Of course."

"Very well." Charnwood rose from his chair and moved to the window behind him, where he gazed out towards the Royal Exchange and drummed the fingers of one hand on the cast-iron radiator beneath the sill. "Tell the reformed Mr. Wingate that I have as much faith in his honesty as I have in the gold standard: precisely none. I shall instruct my daughter to consider their engagement ended. I shall forbid her to have any further dealings with him. And I shall take whatever steps may be necessary to ensure that she obeys me."

This sounded as bad as it possibly could. Desperately, I tried to temporize. "Mr. Charnwood, perhaps I haven't explained clearly enough '

"Oh, but you have!" He swung round from the window. "You want to be sensible but your friend doesn't. Isn't that how it is?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"And you calculate that your only hope of reward is to act as broker for his marriage to my daughter."

"Well, I '

"But you're making a mistake. You're failing to see matters from your own point of view. Look here." He plucked a silver five-shilling piece from his waistcoat pocket and laid it on the desk before me. "What shape is this coin?"

"What shape?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's a circle."

"Quite so. But now?" He gathered it up in his hand, then held it out towards me, flat between his forefinger and thumb. All I could see from my position was its milled rim. "What shape now, Mr. Horton?"

"Er .. ."

"Forget it's a coin. Simply describe what you see."

I shrugged. "A straight line."

"Exactly." Smiling, he balanced the coin on the polished surface of the desk, flicked it into a spin and watched it rotating with evident satisfaction. "So, a circle and a straight line may be the same thing, depending on your point of view."

"I don't quite '

"My daughter and your friend are looking to you for help. Well, so am

I."

"You are?"

"Diana's... infatuation... may prove stronger than her devotion to me. She and Mr. Wingate may seek to present me with a fait accompli, hoping my objections will be overcome once they are married. They would be wrong, of course. I would cut them off..." The coin rattled to rest on the desk. "Without so much as a five-shilling piece between them." He looked straight at me. "Be under no illusion, Mr. Horton. I would pauperize my daughter -and your friend with her if I had to."

"I'm not sure such a prospect would deter them."

"Neither am I. Which is why I'm looking to you for help. I shall take Diana abroad at the end of the month, safely out of Mr. Wingate's reach. Until then, there exists this danger I have spoken of. If I had warning of their plans, prior notice so to speak, I could pre-empt them, of course. As their confidant, you could give me such warning."