The girl in the blue dress (17 page)

To Beverley it seemed that Geoffrey had never, been
more deeply absorbed in his work, nor more eagerly optimistic about the future.
The mood of confidence was even reflected in his work and, partial though she was,
Beverley knew it was true that he was doing some of the best painting he had
ever done.

Insensibly her own optimism and confidence deepened,
and she began to dare to hope that the unhappy infatuation for Sara, the existence
of which she could
no longer doubt, might
perhaps die a natural death,
in the glow of a long-delayed artistic
success.

Almost every evening she would go down to the studio
and watch him work, almost as she had in the days when she was a child, and, to
her infinite pleasure he started a portrait of herself, declaring that he must
have her in the exhibition, if only as his mascot.

"Franklin is going to lend you the one in the
blue
and white dress, in any case, "
she told him. But she was
happy that he should want one of her as she
was, in
addition.
 

He worked with extraordinary rapidity, as though
the sureness of his hand simply could not fail him, where she was concerned, and
as she saw the portrait taking shape beneath his hand, she knew it was the best
thing he had ever done.

Within a matter of days all the main, work of the painting
had been accomplished, and when Beverley
strolled
down the village street, one bright July evening,
she guessed that he
would finish the work either that evening or the next day.

She felt happy about it, and she felt happy about
him. Much happier than she had done for a long
time.

For in painting her picture he had seemed, in some strange
way, to grow nearer to her again, and, as he did so, to achieve a certain inner
tranquility which, she realized now, had been missing for a long time. Beverley
was all the more distressed, therefore, to find him almost on the doorstep, ready
to go out although he must have been expecting her. And she saw immediately, from
his almost agitated expression, that something was wrong.

"Oh, Geoffrey, what is it?" She tried to
keep the alarm out of her tone and failed.

"Something has happened, -" his voice was
even a little hoarse.

"Not about the exhibition? Nothing has gone
wrong about that?" she cried anxiously.

"The exhibition? No, no, that's all right.
It's my father, " he said, and he passed a slightly bewildered
hand over his face. "He's had a bad heart
attack, and
they don't expect him to live the night. And he's asked for
me, Beverley. After' all these years, he's asked for me."

"YOUR father? Oh, Geoffrey, I am sorry."
In that first moment, she thought only of his distress. "I wont keep you.
You must go at once, of course."

"Walk up the street with me." He slipped
his hand round her arm and pressed it, as though he found some sort of
reassurance from the contact with her.

"Yes, of course. Are you going to take the bus
into Castleton?"

"No. I'm hoping Barton will have the village
taxi free I was going up to enquire when you arrived."

They walked up the village street together, and she
tried to think of something comforting to say, for she saw he was badly in need
of some sympathy and support.

Until then, she had never thought of there being any
bond between Geoffrey and his father. The disagreement between them had been so
deep, and its existence so long, that it had not occurred to her that,
even in an emergency, either of them could feel
differently. But blood, she realized now, is a strange thing it
was
obvious that Geoffrey was deeply moved by what had happened.

"I'm glad he asked for you, " she said at
last. It shows he was really fond of you, in spite of every "Yes. Yes, that's
what I thought. It makes me feel, rather awful now. As though I ought to have
found some way of bridging the gap before."

"But you did try, didn't
you?"

"Not very persistently." Geoffrey shook
his head and looked even more unhappy. "I was always afraid of appearing
to be after his money."

"Well I suppose some pretty hard things were
said between you, and, one does have one's pride, "

"Never, That's what I told myself. But then, something
like this happens, and you wonder what pride
matters,
beside the fact that the old man was lonely and obstinate, and
quite incapable of making the first move."

"He has made the first move now, "
Beverley pointed out.

"I know. And that only goes to show how much he
must really have wanted us to get together again. I could kick myself."

"Don't be too harsh on yourself." She
pressed his
hand against her. "It's
difficult to see things in their right
proportion at a time like this.
Just get there as quickly as you can, and try to make him understand that you want
to be friends as much as he does."

This was a poor sort of consolation, Beverley knew,
but it was the best one could do with words. And just then they arrived at what
was known in the village as "Barton the taxi" a composite term which
included Mr. Barton himself, his small house, garage and large car of ancient
vintage.

Fortunately Barton the taxi was disengaged, and
only too pleased to drive Geoffrey into Castleton, especially when he heard the
address to which they were to go.

His prominent, red ears positively quivered with
interest, as though tuning themselves in to some dramatic story which would
inevitably be unfolded.

"You wouldn't come too?" Geoffrey caught
Beverley by the hand again, just as she was about to say goodbye to him.

"Willingly, if I thought I could be of any use,
" she said. "But I don't think your father wants to see anyone but
you just now, Geoffrey. This evening belongs to him alone.""

"Yes, of course. You're
right." He kissed her hard.

"But if for any reason you want me later, just
send Barton back for me."

"Very well."

Then Geoffrey got in beside Mr. Barton, and, with a
certain amount of bucking and spitting, the taxi drove
off.

Beverley slowly retraced her steps homeward, reflecting
soberly, as she went, on the great amount of
family
unhappiness which could be avoided if only
obstinacy and pride were not
such common human
failings.

"You're back early, " observed Aunt Ellen
as she reentered the cottage. "Is something wrong?"

This would have been Aunt Ellen's automatic
suggestion, whatever Beverley's reason for returning early, and it was slightly
annoying to have to admit that, on this occasion at any rate, Aunt Ellen was
right.

Beverley therefore merely said briefly, "Geoffrey
had to go and see his father, " and went into her mother's room.

Aunt Ellen, however, knew at least as much about the
private affairs of most people in Binwick as they knew themselves, and
sometimes more. So she immediately assessed the momentous quality of this
simple statement.

"See his father?" She followed Beverley.
"Geoffrey has gone to see his father? Did you hear that?" She
skillfully drew her sister into the circle of interesting news and discussion.
"Geoffrey has gone to see his father, and, to my certain knowledge, they
haven't spoken for years. Why should he go now?"

"His father sent for him." Beverley sat
down by her mother's bed and ran her hands through her fair hair. "He is
very ill, it seems he had a heart attack and may not live long, and he wanted
to see Geoffrey."

"That means he is going to do something about his
will, " declared Aunt Ellen, divided between the,
rival attractions of having Geoffrey cut off with a
shilling or
her niece's fiancé endowed with a fortune.

Characteristic pessimism, however, triumphed over
even family feeling, and after a moment she added, "He was always a hard
man, Peter Revian. He's going to tell
Geoffrey
that he's leaving it all to charity, you mark
my words."

"I think he just wanted to make sure that he
saw Geoffrey again, " Beverley replied simply. "They must
have been, closer than I ever supposed. At least, at
one time they must have been: I don't think I have ever seen Geoffrey
more moved or distressed."

"Well, the situation is moving, " her
mother said thoughtfully. "And particularly it's sad to think how much
time has been wasted when they could have been friends again."

"That's what I feel. Mother. But, you can't be
wise for other people."

"It's difficult enough to be wise for oneself,
" remarked Aunt Ellen, a sober truth which no one could dispute.
"Have you thought how this may affect you, Beverley?"

"Me?" Beverley looked startled. "How
do you mean?"

"Well, if there is some sort of reconciliation,
and old Revian leaves Geoffrey everything, he'll be a rich man instead of a
poor one."

"I, suppose he would be yes, " Beverley
agreed slowly. "I hadn't thought of that."

"You're too unworldly, " Aunt Ellen told
her.

"No, she isn't, " declared Beverley's
mother. "She merely thought first of the human side of things, which was
quite right. But, it is a fact, dear, as Ellen says,
this could make a great difference to you and Geoffrey.

Your prospects could be infinitely brighter."

"You don't know, "
countered Aunt Ellen cautiously.

"Perhaps only his prospects "will be
brightened. Geoffrey might decide he wanted someone else, more socially desirable,
if he found himself a rich man."

Beverley stared at her aunt, indescribably shaken
at having her inmost fears so unexpectedly put into words, even though it was
no more than natural for her aunt to prophesy thus. But Mrs. Farman cried
impatiently,

"Oh, Ellen, you do have the most uncomfortable
and ridiculous ideas! Why should Geoffrey want someone else, for heaven's sake?
He has been in love with
Beverley for
years."

"Well, perhaps you're right." Aunt Ellen
seemed impressed by her sister's vehemence, even to the extent of admitting a
glimmer of light into the general gloom of her prognostications. "But one
never knows, " she
reiterated, on
principle.

Still Beverley said nothing. She managed to smile slightly,
as though associating herself with her mother's protest while not really taking
Aunt Ellen seriously. But she was aware of a terrible chill at her heart. For, absurd
though Aunt Ellen's suggestion might be, as a general view, there was still the
particular aspect, about which her aunt and her mother knew nothing.

If, in fact, Geoffrey did suddenly find himself a
rich man, how was that likely to affect the situation between him and Sara
Wayne?

The rest of the evening dragged slowly by. But, although
Beverley stayed up later than usual, and the light in the front-room window
advertised the fact, there was still no news of Geoffrey when she finally went
to bed, not long before midnight.

It was Saturday the following day, which meant that
Beverley did not go to Huntingford Grange, and
was,
therefore, at least available for any news as soon as
it came.

Thanks to the village grapevine (as represented by the
milkman and the postman) Aunt Ellen was able to report that Geoffrey had stayed
in Castleton for the night, and that Barton the taxi had returned quite early the
previous evening, with the news that old Mr. Revian was supposed to have
rallied a little.

"How did Barton know that?" enquired
Beverley curiously.

"I suppose he asked someone at the house how
the old man was, " replied Aunt Ellen, with a simple under standing of how
these things were done. "But that would
be
early in the evening, of course. It's around midnight
and the early
hours that old people are at their lowest."

It was obvious that, so far as she was concerned, Mr.
Revian was already prepared for his funeral, and when Geoffrey arrived at last,
about eleven o'clock, she
automatically
composed her features into an expression of condolence.
   
 
'

Geoffrey, however, who arrived in a chauffeur
driven Rolls-Royce, instead of in Barton the taxi looked almost eager, and
certainly a good deal happier than when Beverley had last seen him. And he came
in with an air of briskness and optimism much at variance with Aunt Ellen's
muted gloom.

"Oh, Geoffrey, he's better, isn't he?"
exclaimed Beverley, as soon as she saw him. "You look quite different."

"Do I?" Geoffrey smiled and kissed her.
"Well, I feel different. I can't tell you how different! It's true
that the old man is quite a bit better, though not
by
any means out of the wood yet. But, oh, darling, " he hugged her
so tightly that she gasped and laughed, "in some extraordinary way, everything
is all right between us again."