Presence of Mind (24 page)

It had been as swift as that. They had had twenty-four hours to examine and exclaim over Gordon's preposterous story and probably decided to reject it out of hand. But two minutes after the girl had entered the house all doubts were gone. What had been said between them I could not imagine, nor did I try. I wanted to tell them this was only a loan, that I must have Briony back as soon as possible. Of course I couldn't say it. And Ailsa – really I couldn't think of her as Briony in this setting – was so completely and immediately at home, helping her mother – the word came naturally to my mind – to lay the table, opening all the right cupboards and drawers for table linen and crockery, that I could only watch and marvel as the MacIntyres were doing.

Mercifully I remember little else about the visit. When it was time for us to leave, it became evident that Ailsa would not be coming with us.

‘But – her things are at the hotel,' I stammered, unprepared for so abrupt a parting.

‘Father will collect them in the morning,' Mrs Cameron said placidly.

We could only turn and go. At the gate Mr Cameron said gruffly, ‘Mrs Tenby, I know fine there's a great deal to say, but you'll appreciate it can't be said just now. Our hearts are too full. Perhaps we can see you again before you go back to England.'

‘Of course.' I added wretchedly, ‘We haven't discussed her board yet.'

‘Board?' He frowned.

I said haltingly, ‘We can't expect you to look after her without –'

‘Board for our own daughter? Not at all. I'll not hear of it.'

Somehow I stumbled into the car and we drove away. I was cold in the sunshine, cold and grief-stricken and desolate. Yet after all, I had achieved what I set out to do.

After a while Elspeth said jerkily, ‘You must come to us, Ann. You can't stay in the hotel alone. We'll come with you now to collect your things and leave Briony's cases at the desk for Mr Cameron. If you pay the bill you needn't go back there at all.'

I tried to keep a veil between my eyes and Briony's belongings as Elspeth and I rapidly packed them away in the cases. A laddered pair of tights lay on the bed where she had dropped them before we set out that morning. I thought of how trustingly she had gone with me, never dreaming I was about to abandon her. What would Lance say, when I returned without her? Would I lose him as well?

The MacIntyre's daughter came out to meet us as the car turned into their drive. ‘Where's Briony?' she asked in surprise.

‘She's staying with the Camerons for a wee while,' Gordon answered tersely, getting my cases out of the boot.

‘But I thought she didn't even know them!'

‘She knows them now,' replied Elspeth. ‘Away into the house, Alison, and take Mrs Tenby up to the guest room. She'll be staying with us for a few days.'

Anticipating embarrassment and worse, Gordon must have spoken to the boys before we met again at the dinner table. They regarded me with puzzled curiosity but they asked no questions.

‘There's a phone upstairs if you'd like to ring Lance,' Elspeth said gently. ‘Give him our love and let him know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like.'

I closed their bedroom door, sat on the bed and dialled the familiar number. Almost at once the ringing tone was interrupted.

‘Yes?'

‘Lance – it's me.'

‘Ann!' His voice was raw with anxiety. ‘What's happening? Are you all right? Where are you?'

‘I'm at Gordon and Elspeth's. Lance – I've just left Briony with the Camerons.'

There was dead silence. After a moment I said fearfully, ‘Hello? Are you still there?'

‘With – the
Camerons?
' he repeated, barely audibly.

‘Yes. They – they want her.' My voice choked into silence.

‘And you don't?'

‘Please, Lance – you can't know what it's been like. But it worked for the girl in America and it might work again. If it – doesn't, we'll just have to do what Max says.'

‘And you imagine they'll sit back and let you take her away again?'

‘I don't know. I haven't dared to think that far ahead.'

After a moment he said expressionlessly, ‘When are you coming home?'

‘In a few days. I want to come straight away, but I must wait for a while in case Briony – comes back and wonders where she is. You do understand? '

‘I don't understand anything. Not one bloody thing. I can't imagine why you didn't discuss it calmly with me instead of rushing off with her without a word.'

I said numbly, ‘You said yourself it was better if you didn't see each other.'

‘At least you could have phoned. This is the third day –'

‘But there was nothing to tell you. I had to know first whether or not the Camerons would take her. We've just got back from there now.'

‘Well, I can at least phone you, now that I know where you are. What's the number?'

I read it off the disc in front of me. ‘You are all right, aren't you, Lance?'

‘I wouldn't go so far as to say that. I've been nearly out of my mind with worry.'

‘I'm sorry. I did tell you not to.'

He gave a harsh laugh which indicated just how foolish such a direction had been. ‘Come home soon, Ann, for pity's sake.'

‘Yes, darling, I promise. Take care.'

The days passed. Mr Cameron met Elspeth and myself and we settled things as best we could. I asked anxiously after Briony, but apparently she had shown no signs of reverting. It was arranged that Elspeth should phone them once a week to see how she was and I in turn would phone the MacIntyres. It seemed wise to avoid the tension of my direct contact with the Camerons. He also promised to phone Elspeth if Briony showed any signs of distress or returning to her own personality. For the rest, he asked after Lance, but only with formal politeness, and he continued to refuse to allow me to pay Briony's expenses.

Lance phoned me every night and I waited all day for the slender contact with him. At last there seemed nothing to keep me in Scotland. So I flew home alone.

Lance met me at the airport. He caught me against him and held me tightly, his face in my hair. Then, without a word, he picked up my case and led the way to the car. He had made the journey out by train and bus in order to retrieve my car from the car-park where I had left it.

As we drove out of the airport and turned along the motorway, Lance said abruptly, ‘I wasn't at all sure you'd be coming back.'

‘Why shouldn't I?'

‘There isn't much to come home to, is there?'

For a stunned moment I thought he was telling me that everything was over between us. Surely he couldn't be so cruel as to bring it up now, when the anguish of losing Briony was still so raw? But before I could brace myself for what seemed like yet another crisis, he had changed the subject and I had to collect my scattered thoughts to answer him.

‘Did the Camerons mention me at all?'

‘Only to ask how you were.'

‘I don't suppose they'll ever forgive me, either.'

‘Either?' I echoed in bewilderment.

‘Any more than you will.'

I turned to stare at him but his eyes, hard and grey, were fixed on the road ahead. ‘You're not to blame,' I said rockily.

‘But I am. Your friend Max said so and he's right. It's been my fault all along. If I hadn't been so idiotic about the painting things might have been different, but after Ailsa died it was like an albatross round my neck. I felt it would be disloyal to get rid of it when she'd painted it for me in the first place.'

‘You
wanted
to get rid of it?'

‘Hell, yes. It was a tangible accusation, hanging there reminding me of what I'd done. Everywhere I went it followed me like Nemesis – you know that. “Lance Tenby, the artist of
Eternal Spring
”.'

Yes, I knew. I too had shared in the haunting.

‘I'm sorry, Ann. I just want you to know that.'

‘Sorry for what?' I was unable to keep up with his verbal gymnastics.

‘For everything, damn it. Everyone I've ever been close to seems to have been hurt in some way. I'm a regular Jonah. I suppose I refused to accept Ailsa's death out of pure selfishness. I wanted her back so that she could forgive me – tell me it was all right. And because I wouldn't accept it I forced her to come back.'

I said whitely, ‘Max said –'

‘Max thinks with his text books, not his heart. I
know,
and I think you do, too. It would have been a hundred times better for you and Briony if you'd never met me. At least you'd still have her now. As it is, you have nothing.'

Obviously during my absence he had been tormenting himself by accepting the full blame for everything that had happened. Even more dangerously, he imagined he had also interpreted my feelings. I prayed for the wisdom to say the right thing, to bridge the chasm which had suddenly opened between us.

I said carefully, ‘I still have you – haven't I?'

‘For what it's worth.'

‘It's worth a great deal, to me.'

‘Don't be
kind
to me, Ann!' The violence in his voice startled me. He added more gently, ‘I'm sorry. This is a terrible time for you and I'm only making it worse. Let's talk about something else. Edgar's been on the phone once or twice, fussing like a mother hen and wanting to know when you'd be back. I can't see what business it is of his, but I suppose he meant it kindly.'

‘Yes,' I said raggedly. My control was in shreds. Any opportunity that might have existed to bring Lance and me closer in our common grief had disintegrated as soon as I touched it. Perhaps it would always be like that. I roused myself to ask, ‘What have you told everyone, about Briony?'

‘That she's had a breakdown and been ordered complete rest. Young Mark Staveley asked for her address so he could write to her, but I said it was better for her not to have any contacts with home at the moment.'

‘What about Max? I phoned him from Scotland to let him know the Camerons were taking her but that was about ten days ago. Has he been in touch with you since?'

‘He certainly has. In fact, he's been making a bit of a nuisance of himself. He seems to have transferred his professional interest to me, now you've deprived him of Briony.'

‘He was probably just keeping an eye on you for me. Perhaps if you really feel so full of blame he might be able to help.'

‘I shouldn't think so. He can only be of use to people who
imagine
they're guilty of something. Ann –' another abrupt switch of topic – ‘would you mind very much if I disposed of that painting?'

‘Mind? I'd be delighted!'

‘You don't like it?' He turned in surprise.

‘I hate it, Lance! I always have, but it seemed to mean so much to you and – and Briony.' I hesitated. ‘I suppose it
is
legally yours, to dispose of?'

‘Oh yes,' he said heavily. ‘There's no doubt about that. Not only did Ailsa paint it for me originally, but she put a special clause in her will leaving me
all
her paintings – the word was underlined – “to do with as I please.” Imagine a girl of twenty thinking of making a will. Her lawyer told me she insisted on it before she had her operation. Almost as though she knew.'

‘You shouldn't have any difficulty selling it, anyway.'

‘No, that won't be the difficult part.'

‘Then what –?'

‘I shall have to admit first that I didn't paint it.'

I was aghast. ‘But Lance, you can't! What will people think?'

‘Exactly. It won't be pleasant but it has to be faced, firstly because otherwise the sale would be a misrepresentation and secondly because no matter whom I sell it to I'd never be really free of it until that point was cleared up. That much at least I owe Ailsa. I should have done it years ago, but I was so stunned and mixed up and by the time I realised how famous it was becoming, it seemed to be too late.' He was silent for a moment, then he added flatly, ‘But I also have my responsibility to you. You had no part in the original deception and I've no right to expect you to share in the unpleasant publicity which is bound to follow.'

I started to speak but he lifted his hand fractionally from the wheel. ‘Just a minute, let me finish. This business with Briony is a turning point. It has to be. Nothing will ever be quite the same again. At the moment you're too upset to think clearly or to see how things may turn out. I'm not rushing you for a decision, you must take your time. I just want you to know that if you decide you could manage better without me, fair enough. It's no more than I deserve. I won't make any public announcement about the painting until you've made up your mind. Then, if you do – go, at least you'll be clear of the disgrace. I'll make it quite plain that you were tricked along with everybody else.'

I said in a whisper, ‘I don't need any time to decide. Do you really think I'd desert you, after sharing in all the glory for sixteen years?'

“No, I'd expect you to stay, out of loyalty. That's why I'm telling you there's no obligation.'

‘I see.' It seemed to me that he had made up his own mind and was offering me a chivalrous loophole. Briony, whom he loved, had gone. In a way she was helping to repay Lance's debt to the Camerons, but to complete the payment the picture would have to go too. After that, and his admission of deceit, he would be purged, free after all these years. Obviously he wouldn't want me trailing behind him as a lingering reminder of it all.

‘Do the Camerons know it's Ailsa's painting?' I asked, when I had a little control over my voice again.

‘I don't know. In any case I'll offer it to them first, and perhaps a token sum for the royalties, if they'll accept it. That aspect of the business was always one of the most worrying.' We were now approaching Rushyford and it was four o'clock. The streets were crowded with school children, dawdling along on their bikes, gossiping on corners, and no doubt comparing notes on the dreaded O- or A-level papers. I tried to turn the sob which escaped me into a cough, but Lance was not fooled by it. He said gruffly, ‘I'm sorry. If there'd been any way to bypass the town I would have done.'