Secrets and shadows, p.30
Secrets and Shadows, page 30
‘Oh, not too bad – it varies a bit. Luckily I’m almost entirely synthetic anyway. Not much of the original frame left now, but thank God for all these wonderful spare parts. I’m hoping they’re going to redo my right knee again soon. Put another log on the fire, darling, and then make yourself comfortable.’
Isobel perched on the wide club-fender. ‘If I was dropped into this room blindfold, I’d always know exactly where I was,’ she said, closing her eyes and sniffing. ‘Azaleas and daffodils and wood-smoke; leather and old books and your special potpourri. It brings my childhood straight back – me lying under the piano sucking your treacle toffee and reading Lorna Doone and Jock of the Bushveldt and half listening to you and Pa arguing about everything under the sun after Sunday lunch.’
‘When you get old, people suddenly start agreeing with you – to your face anyway. It’s very dull. I do miss your father,’ said Evelyn, ‘and not just for the arguments.’
‘Oh, so do I! Whenever something funny happens I still want to ring him up and tell him. I miss Mum too, of course, but Pa was my guiding star . . . my yardstick.’ She looked at the old lady. ‘I badly want his advice right now,’ she said, ‘and for the first time in my life he isn’t there when I need him.’
‘Ah.’ Evelyn Fergusson shot her a piercing look. ‘It’s partly about your father that I want to talk to you.’
‘What’s the other part?’
‘The other part is about Lorna.’
‘I rather thought it might be.’ Isobel picked up the heavy brass poker and jammed its point into one of the big logs in the grate, sending an army of sparks marching up the chimney. ‘Did you know that Giles and I’ve had Lorna’s son, Rory, staying with us?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Evelyn gave a snort of laughter. ‘Hamish’s wife had it from their daughter-in-law, who had it from Janet MacDonald’s daughter whom they’d met at the tup sales – I think the little boys played together when Janet had her grandson staying. So the bush telegraph is in good working order, you see.’
‘And? I think you know something about Rory, Evie.’
‘How much do you know yourself?’ countered Evelyn.
‘I know he’s Giles’s son and that’s enough of a problem to be going on with.’ Isobel looked at the old lady to see if this came as a shock to her, but she remained inscrutable.
‘Did Lorna tell you that herself?’ she asked.
‘Not in so many words. She very definitely hinted at it but I think she’s enjoying a game of cat and mouse with me. But I know.’ Isobel stabbed the fire again. ‘He’s the living spit of Giles, for one thing,’ she said. ‘But I still had to be sure.’ She looked up rather defiantly, Evelyn thought, as though expecting disapproval. ‘I’ve had a DNA test done,’ she said. ‘Two, actually, to be on the safe side. It’s very easy at the moment, but I discovered that the law’s going to change soon, and it’ll require the mother’s consent in the future, so I thought I’d get in quick while it’s still possible.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The results have just come through. Of course they matched. I knew they would.’
‘And have you told Lorna that you’ve done this? Have you actually told Giles?’
‘I haven’t told Lorna. I’ve told Giles the result, though I know I should have asked him first before getting it done. He had every right to be cross with me for not telling him sooner,’ she admitted. ‘But actually I think it was a relief to him because he was as certain about it as I was from the moment we clapped eyes on Rory. We both needed confirmation – it could be important. When we first heard Lorna was pregnant, Giles went to see her to tackle her about it, because . . .’ Isobel paused and said painfully, ‘because we knew from the dates that it had to be a possibility that the baby might be his. I can’t tell you how difficult I found that. I was convinced that Lorna would make all the capital she could out of the situation just when we’d got our marriage back on track, but then, astonishingly, she denied to Giles that the baby was his. And then, to our huge relief, she went back to South Africa. I don’t think we were either of us really convinced by what she said,’ she added honestly, ‘but it suited us to go along with it. When we heard from my parents that the baby had arrived, very early for the dates, we let ourselves accept the story Lorna put out, and hoped that he could – just conceivably – be the child of her first husband before she’d come back to Scotland. It’s amazing,’ she added ironically, ‘what you can make yourself swallow if you want to believe something badly enough.’
‘And now?’
‘Now Lorna’s sent for Rory to go back to her. And instead of feeling relieved, I’m miserable. It was awful. He’s clearly terrified of her and he begged to stay with us. Shocking really, and you won’t believe this, Evie – I can hardly believe it myself – but after being so upset to think he was Giles’s son and not mine, when it came to it I could hardly bear to let him go. What a mess! Five years ago Lorna nearly succeeds in wrecking our marriage. Then against all the odds she takes herself off the scene. Now it seems she’s back in trouble-making mode again, though I don’t know what she’s after this time, but it suddenly occurred to me the other day that this had all started up again since Pa’s death and there had to be a connection. You and Pa were always very close and Lorna is your goddaughter . . . am I right in thinking he told you something?’
‘Yes,’ said Evelyn. ‘Your father was always afraid that if anything happened to him Lorna would get up to her old tricks again and try to make life difficult for you and he wanted someone else to know what he’d agreed with her. It’s very sad, because Lorna has got so much, if only she’d let herself enjoy it: talent and looks and now a child and a rich second husband. But nothing is ever enough for her. She was always a deeply jealous little girl – her own worst enemy – and she’s grown up into a jealous woman who’s capable of being extremely vindictive. Over the years I think your father’s managed to act as a brake on some of her more exaggerated behaviour, because she was always a bit afraid of him, but the tragedy is that she makes herself as unhappy as she makes other people. She certainly told your parents that the baby was probably Giles’s and made no secret of the fact that she intended to cause the maximum disruption for you both. But Lorna’s always been extremely acquisitive and your father struck a deal with her. If she withdrew from Scotland and promised not to press any claim on Giles he would guarantee to support her and the baby and would leave her the property in France, which I gather was originally to have been shared between you, and which she coveted so much. But he also told her that if she caused any more upsets he would cut her out of his will entirely.’
‘I have to admit I was secretly a bit hurt to discover that Le Colombier was left entirely to Lorna – not just for myself but because the children always adored going there so much. We all did. Giles pointed out to me that Lorna and I could never have shared it successfully – but why didn’t Pa tell me any of this?’ asked Isobel. ‘I’d have understood if he’d explained.’
‘How could he? He got a promise out of Lorna that she wouldn’t name Giles as the father of her baby, but he had to give a similar promise of silence to her. Your father’s whole object was to stop you being hurt. Before the child arrived I don’t think your parents were convinced it really was Giles’s baby either, and they didn’t think Lorna was that sure herself – it could have been spite or wishful thinking. But I gather that from the moment they first saw the child there was no doubt in their minds – or Lorna’s either.’ Evelyn shook her head sadly. ‘Your parents hoped that once she had a baby of her own – something she’d apparently always been desperate for – Lorna would become an easier, happier person.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a tragedy it didn’t happen that way. As you know, your mother went out to South Africa for the birth, but from the day he was born Lorna couldn’t cope with the baby at all – could hardly bear to look at him, let alone touch him. It does happen occasionally, of course, but whether it was aggravated by the fact that he was premature and spent the first week in an incubator, whether it was triggered by post-natal depression, or whether it’s just how Lorna is, we’ll never know. The point is she obviously didn’t bond with the baby and in the early days your mother was at her wits’ end. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but I’m not sure Lorna’s capable of real love. Even when she was little, I always felt there was something . . . missing.’
There was silence in the room except for the wheezing of the dog and the hissing of the fire. Then Evelyn said briskly: ‘So what do you hope will happen now? Do you want to see the child again? What does Giles feel?’ She thought Isobel looked anguished.
‘The thing is, it’s hard for Giles because he’s afraid of hurting me if he shows his affection too much – afraid of underlining the contrast between Edward and Rory.’ Isobel twisted her wedding ring round and round. ‘When he first arrived I could hardly bear his likeness to Giles – his physical perfection, so unlike Ed. It was torture, but I told myself I must do my best for him for the sake of my mother, who’d more or less brought him up until she was too ill to cope. She always tried – not very successfully – to avoid talking about him in front of me.’ Isobel pulled a face. ‘Poor Mum. She was never much good at hiding her feelings.’
‘That was always part of her charm and warmth,’ said Evelyn. ‘And you’re right. She adored that child – and your father did too. But where does all this leave you?’
‘Rory got under my skin – it’s as simple as that. I started by being dutiful in a rather martyred, self-righteous way and I gave Giles a hard time. I’m not proud of myself. Then I started to love Rory for himself – really love him. It just sort of happened, and of course that changed things . . . and then something else happened this weekend which altered everything.’ Isobel told Evelyn about Amy’s reaction. ‘We had no idea she knew, though I suppose we might have guessed. Children always pick up more than anyone thinks when grown-ups try to hide something from them and Amy and her music were very involved with Lorna’s power struggles that summer. But it wasn’t only that. She couldn’t bear the idea of us sending Rory back to Lorna either – and that opens up a new set of possibilities.’
‘You want to adopt him? Is that it? Even if Lorna agreed, could you really cope with that?’
‘I don’t know about adopt . . . we hadn’t got that far. But yes, we’d like us to get joint custody and try to give him the security he so badly needs, a normal life. Of course we wouldn’t want to cut him off from Lorna completely . . . well I might want it,’ she amended, honestly, ‘but I think that would be wrong. I’d like him to be based with us and I hope I could manage my feelings about Giles and Lorna better now. I think our marriage is stronger than it was when Lorna had a go at wrecking it five years ago. Giles promises me he doesn’t feel a thing for Lorna and it gave us both a terrible fright: shook our priorities up – perhaps we even needed that fright; perhaps we’d got a bit complaisant – but I believe we could do this together now. Louisa said something interesting to me the other day: she pointed out that even though Rory isn’t my child, he still has most of the same genes that my children have, has just as much of Pa and Mum in him as they do. I found that a very helpful new way of looking at things – but even so I wouldn’t be contemplating this if he hadn’t climbed inside my heart.’ Isobel spoke jerkily but with great intensity and Evelyn had no doubt that she meant what she said. All the same, she thought there could be many pitfalls ahead, and she trembled for the whole family.
‘The snag is,’ Isobel went on, ‘that I’ve no idea what Lorna really wants. Did she send Rory over just to upset our marriage, or did she secretly gamble that Giles would want to keep him because there’s actually no place for him in her present life? One thing’s certain, though. If she thinks I actually want him, she’ll keep him out of spite. I don’t know how to approach her at all.’
‘Ah. Well, I might be able to help you over that. I know from your father that Lorna told her senator that Rory was the child of her ex-husband. He has the highest political ambitions and an illegitimate stepson – especially involving scandal with a sister’s husband – would not be at all acceptable. I know this because Lorna wrote to your father when she got engaged to Brooke Congleton and told him so. She said it was very important any “uncertainty”, as she put it, about Rory’s paternity should not come out.’ Evelyn looked at Isobel over the top of her glasses. ‘I have that letter,’ she said. ‘Your father sent it to me just before he died.’
‘Evie! Are you suggesting I should blackmail Lorna?’
‘I’m not suggesting anything,’ said Evelyn firmly. ‘I’m just telling you something you might find it useful to know. What use you put the information to is entirely a matter for you and Giles. But think very carefully, Izzy. A lot depends on Giles. He needs to want this too, as much as you do and for the same reasons. And you have to accept that if he wants it, then you mustn’t become resentful because he does. It won’t be just one big altruistic gesture that gives you a satisfying virtue rush and then goes away. It’ll be every day for all of you. That might be more difficult than you’re prepared for, and if you make a mess of it Lorna will have put something over on you – and the child will be the loser.’
Isobel looked at her with troubled eyes. ‘I know, I know,’ she said. ‘That’s why I need advice. What do you think we should do? What do you think Pa would say?’
But Evelyn Fergusson was not to be drawn. ‘God knows what Lorna may do or what her motives are, but I think your father would say that only two people can make your particular decision. I’m not one of them – and nor is he. I also think Hamish will be back very shortly with your group. Perhaps you’d go through to the kitchen and ask Mrs Cameron to put the kettle on so that we can have tea as soon as they come in. And could you bring me a glass of water when you come back, darling – I think I’ll take one of my pills before they arrive so I can walk to the dining room without looking too much like an old crock, but I shall get you to show them round the house. I’m very much looking forward to meeting them all.’
And Isobel knew that, at any rate for the time being, she had got as much out of the old lady as Evelyn was prepared to disclose.
Chapter Twenty-three
Everyone enjoyed the garden tour. Hamish was not only extremely knowledgeable about gardening in general, but knew every plant at Tillydrum so that he seemed to be talking about intimate friends. He possessed the gift of being able to transmit his own passion for his subject to a mixed audience and make it as enjoyable and accessible to the uninitiated as to fellow enthusiasts. He had a fund of stories about the hazards and rewards of opening to the public, a store of entertaining anecdotes about the eccentricities of his forceful employer, whom he clearly adored, and a racy way with words that kept them all amused. Every plant and tree was clearly labelled, though he pointed out a few notices, beside blank spaces in various parts of the garden, which bore the sad legend: THIS RARE PLANT WAS REMOVED BY A VISITOR.
For Morwenna the afternoon was the highlight of the most enjoyable ten days she had spent in years, and when Hamish, impressed with her knowledge and obvious enjoyment of the garden, asked if she might consider doing an article on the Tillydrum gardens for a Scottish paper and said he’d like to suggest it to Miss Fergusson, she was overcome with pleasure. Somehow Catherine had managed to instil in her a new confidence about her journalistic abilities and suggest ways in which she might become a little more adventurous in her writing and give rein to her sense of humour. Perhaps she could do a series of articles on Scottish gardens? Perhaps she should try to send copy out to editors of other journals as well as her local magazine?
The Colonel watched her pleasure with quiet satisfaction. Under his conventional appearance the pilot light of a romantic nature flickered. Devotion to Queen and country, family values, loyalty, idealistic views about service, liking for order and tradition: these old-fashioned attributes were on the surface for all to see – though none the less genuine for that – but less obvious qualities including an eye for the beautiful, a dry sense of the ridiculous and a capacity for love were there for the discerning to discover. The great silver beech trees of Tillydrum, through which sunlight filtered on to moss, bluebells, wood anemones and a few remaining primroses, made a kaleidoscope of purple, green and gold which made him think of the graceful fan-vaulting and richly coloured stained glass of York Minster, where his father-in-law had been a canon, and where he’d exchanged vows with the wisp of a girl he’d adored. She’d followed him round the world, given him two children and been not only the perfect wife for a commanding officer, but his best friend. John Smithson had been devastated by her death in a car crash only a year after his retirement from the army. It had seemed very bitter that after moving house and uprooting her possessions so often, she had only been able to enjoy her first real home in thirty years of marriage for so short a time. After her death, he’d got on with his life in the only way he knew – uncomplainingly, but her absence left an aching void. Plenty of women, paid up members of the casserole army who specialise in hunting widowers, had tried to woo him with tasty dishes, but he’d never been tempted – until now. This unassuming woman with no guile or pretensions to glamour, who thought so little of her own talents but who was such an enjoyable companion, made him wonder if something unlooked for and marvellous was about to happen to them both. Even as the thought occurred to him, she glanced in his direction and they exchanged a moment of shared happiness – something that hadn’t happened to either of them for a long time.
Louisa saw the look and felt like crying. It was one thing to envy Marnie the attentions of the glamorous Christopher, but that the unaccustomed feeling of isolation and bleakness which kept blowing through her like an icy wind could be triggered by such a pair of old stooges – nice old stooges, thought Louisa, but stooges all the same – as the Colonel and Morwenna left her baffled and disturbed. What is the matter with me? she wondered. Isobel had asked her much the same question the previous evening when they’d had a pre-bedtime drink in the kitchen together, and Louisa had enquired how Rory’s departure had gone.
