Dreams to Sell (27 page)

‘Yes.'

‘Typical November.'

‘It is.'

‘Laurence!'

‘What?'

‘Will you just tell me what this is about?'

‘I'm sorry, Roz. It's not that easy. Let's leave it till we get to the house.'

She sighed and said no more, twisting her gloved hands on her lap and gazing out at the familiar road, or what could be seen of it, while Laurence beside her sat hunched over the wheel, his presence, usually so pleasant to her, now a source of deep anxiety.

It was a relief to reach the house, where the spaniels gave their ecstatic welcome with Mrs Meldrum inclining her head, but Laurence said the only place that would be warm was the morning room, where there was a log fire.

‘Elsewhere, it's cold, cold, cold.' He smiled briefly, looking no less haggard. ‘As you would expect.'

‘It's certainly warm enough here,' observed Roz, admiring the fire and taking one of the shabby old chairs close to it. How old were its faded, crumpled loose covers? Twenty years, thirty years? What on earth did it matter? She knew she was trying to fill her mind with something other than the blow that must be coming her way.

‘Oh, God, I feel so bad!' Laurence suddenly cried, flinging himself into a chair near hers, while the spaniels looked at him in surprise and came to rest their heads against his knees. ‘So bad, Roz. You don't know, you can't know!'

Should she tell him she'd already guessed? No, why should she? Why should she lighten the load for him? Remember what he'd said, ‘There won't be any pain with me, I promise … You can always trust me …' Always trust him? Well, she had trusted him, there was the irony, but he'd turned out like Jamie all the same. Strange, that two men who'd loved her – and she believed they had – should both have let her down. No, he must find the words to tell her himself that he was saying goodbye.

As she looked at his ravaged face, however, her heart softened. He was suffering, there was no doubt of it, for what he wanted to do went against his whole code of behaviour. When he'd told her she could trust him, he'd truly believed it, but now he'd broken that trust. He couldn't face her, tell her what must be told, because he couldn't face himself.

‘Laurence,' she said, taking the decision to raise the issue herself, and putting her hand on his. ‘This is to do with Meriel Leys, isn't it?'

He raised his head. ‘How did you know?'

‘I didn't, I guessed. I mean, it was pretty obvious, really.'

‘But we'd parted, she didn't want me …'

‘She changed her mind. Decided she did want you after all, so you changed too.'

‘Not about you, Roz, never about you!'

‘You still love me?' She sat back in her chair.

‘I do, Roz, I do!'

‘But you love Bellfields more.'

He looked down, putting his hand to his eyes, while his dogs left him and moved away to lie down, resting their heads on their paws but watching him all the same.

Suddenly, Laurence rose and stood gazing at Roz. ‘Look, I've let you down, as I thought I never would, but I don't know what to do, which way to turn. Paul says there's no way out without a sale, and there's no sale on the horizon. The banks won't help and, as you can see, the place is in a bad way. Country houses do get like that if they're not kept up; I know of dozens that have had to be left, or have just mouldered away around the owners' heads.'

He took her hands in his and held them tightly. ‘It's true what I said, Roz. I do love you, and I don't want to let you go, but if I don't take Meriel's offer, it will be Bellfields that will go, and I can't let it happen, Roz, I can't!'

‘Her offer?'

He hesitated, letting her hands go. ‘She says she'll take care of the house. Do what's necessary to make it safe.'

‘If you …?'

The question hung between them, both already knowing what he must do, until Laurence turned away, shaking his head.

‘There's nothing I can say to defend myself, Roz. I can't even say I'm sorry. It's too much, what I've done, isn't it? To say sorry for?'

As Roz was slowly rising to her feet, the door opened and Mrs Meldrum appeared.

‘Shall I bring in tea now, sir?'

‘Tea?' He stared blankly. ‘Oh – Roz, would you like some tea?'

‘I don't think so, thanks. Must get back.'

‘Right. Thanks, Mrs Meldrum, we won't be wanting tea. We'll be going back to Edinburgh now.'

‘Very good, sir.'

After the housekeeper had withdrawn, Roz stood for a moment, looking round at the morning room, then stooped to pat the heads of Hugo and Mascot.

‘If there are any more people wanting to view Bellfields, I'll ask Mr Appin to bring them,' she said over her shoulder, then caught her breath. ‘Oh, but there won't be any more people, will there? You'll be taking the house off the market.'

‘On Monday,' he answered hoarsely. ‘I'll – I'll just get your coat.'

The drive back to Edinburgh was silent, each of them sitting like strangers with nothing to say, until they were nearing the city and Laurence asked if he could take Roz to dinner.

‘No, thank you. I'd rather go straight home.'

‘You must have something.'

‘I'm not hungry.'

As he drove on, sighing deeply, Roz said lightly, ‘You know, I think I knew as soon as I saw her that Meriel had won. Strange, isn't it? I didn't even know there was a contest.'

‘I think actually it was when she saw you that she decided to change her mind about me.'

‘When she saw me? But I was just someone from the property department.'

‘No, she asked me about you later. I told her.'

Roz gave a brittle little laugh. ‘That's the way it goes, eh? But I got it wrong, didn't I? It wasn't Meriel who won, it was Bellfields. I've lost out to a house.'

When Laurence stopped the car outside her home, Roz immediately put out her hand to open her door, but he held her arm.

‘Roz, weren't you going to say goodbye?'

‘Oh, I think we've said that, haven't we?'

‘Listen, I know I can't ask you to forgive me, but try to remember how I feel about you, and why I'm doing what I'm doing, will you? You've taken it so well – I can't believe you've been so good to me. Don't forget me, please.'

‘Goodbye, Laurence,' she answered. ‘Enjoy Bellfields.'

And then she did open her door and was out, running into her house without looking back, while he sat on in his car until he saw passers-by peering in and finally, slowly, drove away.

The days that followed her break with Laurence were dark, not just for Roz, but for the nation, caught up in anxiety for the health of the king, George the Sixth, who had had serious health problems for some time and was looking increasingly frail. After an operation in September, described as a ‘lung resection', there were rumours of cancer, and when more and more of his duties were seen to be taken by others, everyone wondered just what the future held.

Flo, though not a great royalist, admired the king for his work for his people during the war, and read with interest all newspaper reports of his health, which rather surprised Roz, who'd expected her to be more concerned with the ending of her own affair with Laurence. Still, it was refreshing not to have her sympathy, for to have everyone feeling sorry for her over the loss of her ‘Prince Charming' was proving very irritating. Oh, those sad-eyed looks from Chrissie, Nora, Angus and others were almost more than she could bear. It wasn't the end of the world for her, was it?

She wasn't sure. Though it was true she wasn't suffering the same sort of pain she'd had after her split with Jamie, she did feel a deep regret for the loss of Laurence. And not only Laurence, but Bellfields. For the first time she'd encountered a true dream house that for a little while had become part of her, as Laurence, also something of a dream, had seemed to be a part. He wasn't, of course. Wasn't at all what she'd thought – though he might have meant to be – and it was as though a light in her life had been put out and she must manage for some time in the dark. Even her pleasure in her work seemed to have deserted her, though she flung herself into it, making herself think of something other than Laurence, who had traded her in for a woman he didn't love in exchange for a house.

‘Aye, it's a good job you've got your work,' Flo said one evening when Chrissie was out with Bob. They had been listening to dance music on the wireless, but Flo had switched it off – a sure sign she wanted to express her views. ‘Takes your mind off things, eh?'

‘Usually,' Roz answered, busy knitting a sweater for Dougal which she'd just begun.

‘You could've seen this coming, though, if you'd wanted to. I mean, I always knew he would marry one of his own, and you must've known that too.'

‘We never discussed marriage.'

‘Well, there you are! You both knew it'd never work out, a fellow like him and you. You're a lovely, clever girl, and I'm sure he was very keen on you – though of course I never met him—'

‘Your decision, that.'

‘Never mind now. The thing is, like I say, he was keen on you, but what about his friends? They'd all be very different, eh? Have every advantage and expect you to be the same. You'd never have been happy, Roz.'

‘I think I might have got on with his friends, Ma.' Roz laughed shortly. ‘It was his housekeeper who disapproved.'

‘Cheek! Now she'd no right to take that line, and you an educated girl!'

‘Ma, it's all over and done with now. I'm just going to get on with my life and put it all behind me.'

‘Very wise. You stick to that, Roz, and you'll come through well.' Flo opened the evening paper and sighed. ‘See this about the king? They're wondering if he'll be able to do his Christmas broadcast, the poor man.'

‘I haven't begun to think about Christmas yet.'

Roz finished a line and wrapped her knitting up in her work bag. ‘Don't think I'll be feeling much like it, anyway.'

‘If only Dougal could come home, eh? Whenever are we going to see him again, Roz?'

‘I shouldn't think it'll be too long now. The papers are saying that the Korean War's reached a stalemate.'

‘That just means it might go on longer,' said Flo glumly.

In the event, Christmas and Hogmanay turned out to be as cheerful as usual, with even the king managing to make his customary broadcast on Christmas Day. The fact that this was done by recording small passages at a time was kept quiet, it being considered enough for the nation to know that he'd made it, and that was certainly good news.

No good news came out of Korea, though, at least as the stalemate between the two sides continued. There was no bad news either, and Dougal's letters home always looked on the bright side. His Christmas parcels had arrived safely, he told Flo, and he and his mates sent heartfelt thanks for all the goodies they'd contained. If and when Roz finished his sweater he'd be truly grateful. ‘What have you been doing, then?' he asked cheekily. ‘Going out gallivanting like Chrissie and Bob?'

‘No need to tell him what's happened,' Roz said earnestly.

‘Oh, but he must be told,' Flo insisted. ‘No need to send bad news, of course, but he wouldn't think your parting from a fellow like Mr Carmichael was bad news. He'd be happier to see you with someone like Bob or Evan.'

‘Evan?' echoed Roz. ‘I scarcely know him.'

‘Didn't take long for Chrissie to get to know Bob, did it? And now they're engaged.'

‘Ma, don't start match-making for me, please. I don't want to get involved with anyone else for some time to come.'

‘But Evan's attracted to you, Roz. I could tell, that time he came down for Chrissie's little celebration. And he's got a good job, you know.'

‘Look, I'm not interested. Just leave it, eh?'

‘Aye, sorry, pet. I know you're still upset over Mr Carmichael. You won't mind if you see Evan at Hogmanay, though? Chrissie's invited him to come with Bob to see the New Year in.'

‘No, I won't mind,' Roz said with an exasperated sigh. ‘Though if I had my way I'd go to bed early and not give a damn about nineteen fifty-two. I don't suppose it'll be any better than nineteen fifty-one.' Seeing the look on her mother's face, she added quickly, ‘Unless Dougal comes home, of course.'

The day before New Year's Eve, a small staff party was held in Mr Banks's office, this being a custom everyone enjoyed. Wives were invited, as well as anyone who was officially engaged to a member of staff at Tarrel's, and this was where Norma sprang her surprise by appearing at the party accompanied by Tim Clunie and exhibiting a quite large, handsome ring.

‘Tim's grandmother's!' she announced, as Miss Calder and Roz bent over it with exclamations of admiration, while Tim stood modestly by and Mr Banks and everyone else clapped their congratulations.

‘This calls for an extra celebration!' Mr Banks declared. ‘Miss Calder, please bring out the champagne I was keeping for our last drink – I think we ought to have it now.'

Champagne! Who'd have thought old Banks would have splashed out on that? But, as he said, this was a special celebration, for Norma had now worked for some years at Tarrel's and deserved some recognition.

‘We couldn't be happier about this,' he told her and Tim when he made the toast, ‘though we hope we won't be losing you, Miss Ward?'

‘Not yet, Mr Banks,' she answered, blushing, as Roz exchanged glances with Miss Calder. There had been a time when Mr Banks would have wanted no married women whatsoever at Tarrel's, and of course he had not yet appointed a woman lawyer – but things were changing in the modern world and perhaps even Mr Banks was changing with them.