A Family Concern (14 page)

Catherine smiled acknowledgement of Rona, and took Max's hand. ‘I'm delighted to meet you. I've been an admirer of your work for some time, as Rona might have told you.'

‘And I ungraciously declined to speak to your Art Appreciation Society,' Max said, ‘for which I belatedly apologize.' His mouth twitched. ‘Possibly, now that you're almost family, I might reconsider.'

A waiter was hovering to show Tom and Catherine to their table, and as her father passed her, Rona said in a low voice, ‘Incidentally, Lindsey's also here. With Hugh.'

Tom stopped in his tracks. ‘Hugh? Good God, I thought all that was supposed to be in the past.'

‘Not any more, it seems. Have a good evening, Pops. Nice to see you, Catherine,' she added – naturally, she hoped – and smiled at Catherine's murmured agreement.

‘Bloody hell!' Tom said succinctly, when their waiter had left them with their menus. ‘Here I was, hoping for an intimate
dîner à deux
, and I find it's to be conducted under the eagle eyes of both my daughters!'

Catherine laughed softly. ‘Max is charming, isn't he? And so distinguished-looking, with that thick white hair. He can't be out of his forties, surely?'

‘No; he apparently went white in his twenties. His sister is the same.'

‘Darling, I don't want to search the room,' Catherine murmured, ‘but have you located Lindsey?'

‘No, and I don't particularly want to. Things have been a little strained between us, but she turned up trumps this evening, bless her, coming to the reception, and with a handsome present for good measure. If I see her with Hugh, my disapproval might show and we'd be back to square one. However, if we do catch sight of each other, of course I shall introduce you.'

‘My God!' Lindsey exclaimed suddenly. ‘There's Pops, with his fancy woman.'

Hugh looked up from his menu. ‘Where?'

‘Up on the gallery to your left, about the fourth table from the end. I wonder if they've seen us? Or Ro and Max, come to that.'

‘Poor guy,' Hugh said, ‘hoping to spend a romantic evening with his lady-love, and finding almost his entire family here. I'm experiencing much the same thing myself.'

‘There's no point in our being secretive any more,' Lindsey agreed. ‘Not,' she added, ‘that there's really anything to be secretive
about
.'

‘More's the pity,' Hugh muttered.

Her eyes had strayed back to the gallery. ‘I can't
think
what he sees in her,' she said.

‘Oh, I don't know; she has a certain something,' Hugh returned, studying the unaware Catherine. ‘Poise, elegance, a charming smile.'

‘Too long in the tooth for
you
, at any rate,' Lindsey said waspishly.

Hugh flicked her a glance, and his mouth twitched. ‘I wouldn't say that,' he murmured consideringly. ‘Sex appeal has no age limit, after all.'

‘Men!' Lindsey exclaimed disgustedly, and Hugh, satisfied, let the subject drop.

‘So what do you think of her?' Rona asked.

‘Very attractive.'

She looked at him in surprise. ‘Really? So do I, but I can't convince Linz. All right, she's not conventionally pretty, but she has a lovely smile – lovely eyes, too – and she's always so perfectly groomed, it's a pleasure to look at her.'

‘You like her, don't you?'

‘Very much. I always have. She helped me with my Buckford project, if you remember.'

‘Oh, I remember, but I didn't realize you felt so warmly about her. Why didn't you say so?'

Rona shrugged. ‘Almost as soon as I met her, I saw her with Pops that evening, which put the kibosh on everything. After that – well, divided loyalties, I suppose.' She paused. ‘Will you really talk to her society? Won't it be starting a precedent, or opening the floodgates, or something?'

Max laughed. ‘My darling girl, I'm not as avidly sought after as you seem to think. I believe I can safely make an exception in Catherine's case. If, that is, she asks me again.'

‘Oh, she will,' Rona said confidently. ‘Believe me, she will.'

Since Lindsey and Hugh were still at their table when they were about to leave, Tom made a point of taking Catherine across to meet them. Hugh came to his feet, his eyes appraisingly on her, but after a quick, acknowledging glance, Lindsey's eyes dropped.

Aware of the embarrassment on all sides, Catherine said easily, ‘Isn't this a splendid place? A real asset to the town. How long has it been open, do you know?'

It was Hugh who answered. ‘About a month. Our firm received flyers, advising us of the opening. They don't serve lunches, incidentally; only dinners.'

‘Very wise,' Tom commented. ‘There'd be nowhere to park at lunchtime, whereas the meters are free after six. I'm sure they'll do well, particularly in the run-up to Christmas. Well, we must be on our way. Enjoy the rest of your meal.' And with his hand under Catherine's elbow, he steered her away from their assessing eyes.

‘One more hurdle over,' he said, as they reached the car and he opened the passenger door for her. ‘It'll be easier next time, I promise.'

Catherine wasn't so sure. There was a surly air about Lindsey very different from her twin's openness. She could, Catherine felt, hold grudges indefinitely.

Tom started the engine, and after a few yards, turned off Guild Street into Windsor Way.

‘There's no need to drop me off, Tom,' Catherine said softly. ‘If I may, I'd like to be with you your first night in the flat.' And at his exclamation, she added, ‘Yes, I know; we said we wouldn't spend a night together till we're married, but this is a one-off. It's your birthday, your retirement and – to paraphrase – the first night of the rest of your life. You wouldn't mind, would you?'

‘Mind?' Tom echoed, his voice choked. ‘I can think of nothing more wonderful.'

On the Saturday morning, Max received a phone call from his sister.

‘I promised to report back after Father had seen the doctor,' she began. ‘I tried to ring you last night, but there was no reply, and I didn't want to leave a message.'

‘How is he?' Max asked quickly.

‘Actually, he seems a little better. His appointment was yesterday morning; I ran him there, of course, but he refused point-blank to allow me to go in with him, so I have only an edited version of what transpired. However, he seems to have had a thorough going-over and was prescribed some antibiotics, which, naturally, he scoffs at. But I made him promise to take them.'

‘No sign of pneumonia?' That had been Max's secret fear.

‘Not as far as I know.'

‘Then let's hope the medicine gives him an appetite. He'd be a lot stronger if he ate properly.'

‘I've been telling him that for weeks.'

‘Thanks for letting me know, Cyn. I'll phone you next weekend, and hope for some positive progress.'

The Darcy Hall was packed for the performance of the
Messiah
, and judging by the continuing applause when it ended, the audience had enjoyed it to the full.

‘It's only ten o'clock,' Gavin remarked as they filed slowly out of the hall. ‘How about some wine and tapas at the Bacchus?'

‘Excellent idea,' Max approved, and they walked the hundred yards or so to the wine bar along the road. It seemed others had had the same idea, and they were lucky to get the last vacant table.

‘So,' Gavin began, when the food and wine had been served, ‘what are you two up to these days?'

‘Max has been commissioned to paint local landscapes for a calendar,' Rona volunteered. ‘Talk about forward planning – it's for the year after next.'

‘I'm trying to choose appropriate scenes for each month,' Max explained. ‘They don't all have to be rural, and I've made some preliminary sketches of Guild Street resplendent with its Christmas lights. With the old Georgian frontages, it should be very effective.'

‘Put our name down for one!' Magda said, reaching for a stuffed squid.

Gavin turned to Rona. ‘As for you, I can't open
Chiltern Life
these days without seeing your byline! Not thinking of a takeover bid, are you?'

‘I'm still trying to get her back to biographies,' Max said ruefully. ‘It seems a far less hazardous occupation.'

‘Well, you'll have to put it on hold,' Magda told him. ‘She's already planning a new set of articles, aren't you, Rona? On long-standing local shops and businesses.'

Gavin looked up. ‘That should be interesting; who will you start with?'

Rona hesitated. ‘I'll have to sound them out first, but I thought probably Tarlton's – the jewellers.'

‘Good choice,' Gavin nodded. ‘Not only a long-established business, but with interesting personal stories as well, if you can get them to open up.'

‘Such as Lewis's ex marrying one of the Clarendon lot?' asked Magda, with her mouth full.

‘That, of course, but also the flighty wife fleeing the marital bed.'

‘Spare us the journalese, Gavin,' Max said. ‘Elucidate.'

‘Oh, it was years ago now, but old Robert's wife did a bunk with her lover and left him holding the baby. Two of them, in fact.' He bit into a prawn. ‘Actually, I knew her – Velma Tarlton. My mother used to play tennis with her.'

‘Gavin, that's fabulous!' Rona exclaimed. ‘What was she like?'

‘Pretty, in a blonde, blue-eyed way. In fact, very like her daughter, who works in the shop. Not as fragile-looking, though; she had bags of sex appeal. Too much, as it turned out. According to snippets I overheard, she'd had a string of lovers.'

‘And who was the last one?'

‘Ah, the million-dollar question! The prime suspect was a bloke she'd had an affair with before. He left town about the same time she did.'

‘I wonder if she stuck with him,' Max mused, ‘or moved on to someone else. I suppose we'll never know.'

According to Kate, Rona remembered, Robert had hoped for years that she'd go back to him. Just as well all broken hearts didn't take so long to mend, she thought, with a guilty glance at Gavin. Thank God he and Magda were happy together. They made a striking couple, he just over and she just under six foot, Gavin ash-blond and Magda with her Italian mother's dark hair and eyes. Rona felt a rush of love for them both.

‘What are you doing for Christmas?' Magda asked. ‘Going to the parents, as usual?'

Rona took a deep breath. These were their closest friends, and after all, Pops had openly taken Catherine to Serendipity.

‘It's not quite as simple as that,' she said quietly, aware of Max's eyes on her. ‘My parents have just separated.'

‘Oh no!' Magda exclaimed. ‘Oh, Rona, I'm so sorry!'

Gavin said, ‘Your father's retirement was in today's local rag. It said your mother couldn't attend because she had flu.'

‘Only the diplomatic variety,' Rona replied.

‘So – what's going to happen now?'

‘Pops has moved out and is renting a flat in Talbot Road.' No need, yet, to mention Catherine. Rona didn't want him to appear the guilty party.

‘Was it – amicable?'

‘Not at first, but I believe things are easier now.' She paused, then carried on determinedly, ‘Actually, Mum has blossomed in the last few weeks – new clothes, new hairdo, and she's taken a job at the local library.'

‘Well, good for her,' Magda said uncertainly.

‘How's
your
mother?' Rona put in quickly. ‘I keep meaning to pop in and see her.'

Paola King had been an important figure in Rona's childhood, providing the warmth and tenderness that had been lacking in her relationship with her own mother.

‘She's fine. Do call in, she'd love to see you.'

Mention of the separation seemed to have put a dampener on the evening, Rona thought sadly, and soon afterwards their party broke up and went their separate ways.

Max glanced at her as they got into the car, and laid a hand on her lap. ‘It still hurts, doesn't it, love?'

‘Of course it hurts. And oh Max, what are we going to do about Christmas?'

‘As Gavin would say, that is the million-dollar question.'

On which unsettled note, they drove home.

O
n Monday morning, another invitation dropped through the letter box and Max, about to leave for Farthings, opened it.

‘It's from the Trents,' he reported. ‘Supper on Saturday the seventeenth.'

‘Barnie said he'd arrange something while Mitch was over. That's every Saturday till Christmas accounted for. At one time, I'd thought we might have a party ourselves, but there's been so much going on I haven't got round to it, and now it's too late.'

Max bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Have a good day and I'll ring you this evening.'

‘If you're going out sketching, make sure you wrap up,' Rona called after him, as he went down the steps.

Actually, it was slightly less cold than it had been, and after days of drizzling mist the sky was a welcome blue. Resisting its temptation, Rona went up to her study, determined to complete Coralie Davis's story. Then, she told herself, all she'd have to do would be to return the photographs and papers and deliver the article to
Chiltern Life
, after which she could draw a line under the whole project and move on to something else.

On the days when Max had evening classes, he was free during the day to attend to his own work, and that morning he had, as Rona anticipated, taken his camera and sketch pad to the Memorial Gardens on Guild Street. From there, he had a good view of the busy thoroughfare, without being jostled by its crowds. Although he preferred its more sober aspect, when the bow windows, uneven rooftops and painted railings gave an air of Georgian elegance, its present festive mood would, as he'd told his friends, look admirable gracing the December page of the commissioned calendar.