Memories of You (43 page)

‘I do, but that's not why I asked. You go and lie down on the sofa for a while. I'm perfectly capable of making spaghetti bolognese.'

‘Really, Matthew? Would you?'

‘Go on. I'll wake you when everything's ready.'

‘If madam baby doesn't wake me up first,' Patricia said with a smile. She handed the wooden spoon to Matthew, gave him a grateful peck on the cheek and headed for the sitting room.

Patricia was upstairs feeding Gillian when George came home. The meal was ready but Matthew kept everything warming and his brother-in-law opened a bottle of wine. They sat at the kitchen table. Matthew encouraged George to talk about his work for the BBC and George told him the latest news from Spain. There was a new Republican government and the Nationalist army had just closed the border with France.

When Patricia came downstairs they decided to stay in the kitchen for their meal, and Matthew and George dished it up and insisted that Patricia relax. They also changed the topic of conversation to something more light-hearted. But by the time Matthew said goodnight he knew the answer to his question.

Although he still had a limp, his leg gave him little trouble these days. He would go into the office tomorrow and demand to be reinstated as a foreign correspondent. If they said no then he would resign. He knew that his reputation was such that there were other newspapers that would be glad to take him on. And if not, then he would go freelance. There was nothing for him here in England. He would go to Spain.

 

 

Selma read Emerald Leighton's society column with growing outrage.

 

 

Once more Hugh had brought the offending newspaper up to bed for Selma and he watched her unenthusiastically while she read the piece he pointed out.

‘How do they find out these things?' Selma raged when she had finished. ‘I've done exactly as you said. I have refused to talk to the press and I have even kept quiet about my feelings when meeting my friends.'

‘That's one thing you don't do, my darling,' Hugh said. His smile was strained.

‘What are you talking about?'

‘You don't keep quiet.' He raised a hand to stop her angry reaction to his words. ‘Oh, I don't mean you go round gossiping. I mean that when we talk together – like at this moment – your voice is raised so loud that I'm sure they can hear you down in the kitchen.'

‘You exaggerate.'

‘I do, but it's almost true. You are so used to servants coming and going quietly about their duties that sometimes I think you are not even aware of their existence. You have quite forgotten the wisdom of the old saying,
pas devant les domestiques
.'

Selma looked weary. ‘So we still have a traitor in the house?'

‘It's the logical explanation.'

‘Then what can we do?'

‘Try to be even more discreet.'

Without realizing what she was doing, Selma began to crumple the newspaper savagely. Hugh took it away from her. ‘Don't,' he said. ‘You'll get newsprint all over your hands.' Selma shot him a look that seemed to say that was the least of her worries and he continued. ‘This will soon be over, my darling. I've arranged for them to come and see me tomorrow.'

‘What will you say?'

‘That depends on what they – on what Perry Wallace – has to say. Selma, think about this, are you sure you don't want to be there?'

‘I'm positive.'

‘Don't you want to see your daughter?'

‘I never want to see Elise again.'

‘That's very unforgiving of you.'

‘I'm sorry, Hugh; I've made my mind up. Just think of the scandal and how that could affect Bertie.'

‘He's only a baby.'

‘But these things don't go away. Whatever Elise does now she's damaged goods. I don't want anything like that to embarrass our son as he grows up. And another thing, I know you don't want me to talk to the press right now and you're absolutely right. But after a while I shall let it be known, just to close friends, who will tell their friends, that Elise was adopted and that no matter how much we tried to make a good life for her, in the end she reverted to type.'

Hugh saw that there was no use in trying to persuade Selma to change her mind, and in any case he wasn't sure if he wanted her to. Even though he had not been entirely in favour of the idea when Selma had asked him if they could adopt Elise, he had grown to love her as much as a father could love a daughter. Yet he, too, felt betrayed by what she had done and he, too, did not want any scandal attached to their own child for whom he had such high hopes.

‘I'd better go now,' he said, ‘but I'll tell your maid to bring some coffee, shall I?'

Selma nodded and raised her cheek for a kiss. Still so beautiful, Hugh thought as he took his leave, and I still adore her. And now I shall have to work out what I am going to do about this most troublesome child. As he ran through the possible options, the most worrying thought pushed itself to the forefront of his mind.

Elise never knew how she came to be adopted by us in the first place, he remembered. What would she say if she knew that her former happy childhood came to an end because it was our car that ran over and killed her mother?

 

Perry was feeling optimistic. When the invitation came for them to meet Hugh Partington in his office he reasoned that at least they were not going to be ignored and that if Elise's father intended to deal harshly with them he would have done so through solicitors; he would not want to see them personally. However, his confidence began to ebb a little when he saw how formally they were greeted.

Elise's father had chosen to see them in the boardroom. When they were shown in he was standing at the far end of a massive table and when Elise would have hurried forward to greet him he raised his hand.

‘No, Elise,' he said. ‘I want you to wait in my office until I have talked to Perry. Miss Phillips will take you there and get you some coffee.'

Elise's face was strained as she left with her father's secretary but she gave Perry an encouraging smile. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Hugh Partington sat down and made a vague gesture for Perry to do the same. Hugh had taken the seat at the head of the table, naturally, but Perry was not sure where exactly he was meant to sit. Surely not at the other end of the table? After hesitating for a moment he walked along and took the chair three chairs down from where Hugh was sitting. If he sat there, he reasoned, they would be able to look each other in the eye.

Hugh was examining some papers spread out on the table in front of him. He didn't look up and Perry became aware of the tick of the imposing boardroom clock on the mantel of the fireplace behind Hugh. Perry's gaze strayed to the ponderous oil paintings framing the walls. No doubt they are very valuable, he thought, but they are all quite hideous. Perhaps they were deliberately chosen to be unappealing so that those who attended the board meetings would not let their attention stray. This thought made him smile and he was startled when Hugh Partington gave a slight cough and said, ‘Something has amused you?'

‘Erm no . . . I mean, the paintings. They . . .'

Hugh looked at the paintings on the wall opposite Perry and shook his head. ‘I've never thought them humorous but perhaps you are a bit of an art critic?'

He made the words ‘art critic' sound like something else entirely: dilettante, amateur, dabbler – someone not entirely genuine. Perry flushed. He knew immediately that he had been wrong-footed and this meeting was not going to be an easy one. He realized how futile it would be to try and explain why the paintings had made him smile so he simply kept quiet and waited for Hugh to continue.

Hugh shuffled his papers into a neat pile and looked Perry in the eye when he said, ‘In case you're wondering, these documents have to do with the trust fund I set up when we adopted Elise. I have decided to allow her a modest allowance until she is twenty-one. Then her trust fund will mature.'

‘Elise is adopted?'

‘You didn't know?'

‘No.'

‘And if you had known would you still have married her?'

‘What are you suggesting?'

‘It isn't a mere suggestion. I'm telling you that I believe you married Elise because she is the daughter of a very rich man and one way or another you hoped to profit from that.'

‘One way or another?'

‘I'll come to that. But had you known she was adopted you might not have believed that she was such a good investment – especially now that I have a son of my own who will naturally inherit the major part of my fortune.'

‘Mr Partington, I love Elise, and as far as money is concerned all we hoped for is that you would give her some sort of marriage portion so that we could live comfortably together.'

Hugh's withering look made Perry squirm uncomfortably. ‘A marriage portion large enough to get you out of your present difficulties, no doubt.'

‘My difficulties?'

‘Surely you didn't think I wouldn't have you investigated? You owe a great deal of money to a very dangerous man. A man who has already threatened you.'

Instinctively Perry looked at the back of his hand where the scar, although fading, looked as though it might be permanent.

Suddenly Hugh Partington's icy disdain gave way to fury. ‘If you have put Elise in danger you will learn that I can be a much more dangerous enemy than the so-called king of London's underworld.'

Perry believed him but he also knew that it was time to stop all pretence. ‘So will you help me?'

‘I take it the modest allowance I suggested would be totally inadequate?'

‘Yes.'

‘You need a large amount of money straight away?'

‘Yes.'