‘I’ll do that,’ said Hope. She followed Susie into the kitchen where a tea tray was already laid out. ‘Gosh, you are organised.’
‘I just need to pour the water into the teapot and we can go through.’ Susie chatted on as she filled the teapot and carried the tray into the bright and airy conservatory. Hope suspected her godmother was filling any silences because she was nervous of what lay ahead.
What did lie ahead? Just looking at a few old photographs. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?
It felt quite odd to see so many pictures of her mother when she was young. She had seen plenty of pictures of her father’s childhood, but the earliest picture of Elspeth had been at her wedding. Now Susie was passing her picture after picture, of Elspeth alone, with Susie, at school.
‘This is your mum ready for the end-of-school dance,’ said Susie. ‘Now.’ She took a deep breath and bent closer. ‘This is your grandfather, Elspeth’s dad, Joseph.’
Hope peered at the black and white print. The man was slightly built and looked ill at ease before the camera, but the overriding impression was one of pride. He had one hand on Elspeth’s shoulder. Hope tried to work out how old he would be. Probably in his late fifties. He looked older, with what little hair he had cut very short, and a heavily lined face. She remembered Susie had said he never quite recovered from his time in the concentration camp.
‘He looks nice,’ she said.
‘He was a lovely man. A great gardener, I told you that, didn’t I? He used to smuggle handful of peas in their pods to your mother and I when we were younger.’ Susie smiled reminiscently. ‘He did grow a few flowers, I remember that now, although Jane didn’t really approve.’
Hope examined the picture again.
‘I wish it was in colour,’ she said.
‘There are a few snaps of the wedding in colour, I’ll show you those in a minute. But even then the official ones were in black and white. Your mother insisted they couldn’t afford colour. Or maybe it was your gran who insisted. I can’t remember now. Look, here are some of the wedding ones.’
Hope turned her eyes to the woman who must be her grandmother. She was finding she liked her less the more she heard about her. This was the woman who had given up her own child for adoption. Who had kept the secret of her birth from Elspeth for all those years.
‘Yes, that’s Jane. She was very attractive, even at that age. Apparently she had been a real beauty in her youth.’ Hope remembered Mrs Slater’s words, saying how Hope looked like her grandmother. Was she like this tall, slender woman who held herself aloof from the crowd around her? A little pill-box hat was perched on the top of her head. It should have looked silly, but instead looked stylish.
Hope looked closer. Apart from the bride, Jane was easily the best-dressed person there. Her suit fitted beautifully. The blouse beneath was of some soft material that hung in perfect pleats. She looked out of place among the cheery, crumpled crowd.
‘Where on earth did she get the money for her clothes?’ she asked. ‘I thought you said my grandfather was an estate worker: they can’t have been well off.’ Hope wanted something else to dislike Jane Irving Calvert for.
For some reason Susie looked pleased by this comment. ‘Oh, no, she didn’t spend any money on her clothes. Jane was an expert needlewoman. I thought you knew? I’ve always presumed that’s where you get it from. Sewing and materials were the only things that really brought Jane to life.’
Hope stared at her. She got her love of sewing from her grandmother? No!
‘I never knew that.’
‘I suppose sewing suited Jane. She liked to keep herself to herself and it was something she could do inside. Her dad, Matthew Irving, was said to be just the same. Jane wasn’t the easiest person but I have to say she sewed beautifully, and she could be generous with it. She made your mum’s wedding dress, of course, and my bridesmaid’s one. Don’t you think it’s lovely, with that Queen Anne neckline? It was pale pink; I’ll show you on the colour snaps. And your gran altered it for me afterwards, took up the hem a bit so I could wear it for dancing. I told you, she could be kind.’
Her grandmother could be kind? She wasn’t really such a bad person? Hope didn’t want to know that. Once again the kaleidoscope of who she thought she was, what her past contained, had shifted, and she was left confused and bemused.
Chapter Sixteen
Hope had been looking forward to her evening out with Robbie. It had been decided they would go to an early movie in Dumfries and then for a meal afterwards. Now, however, she was sure there was something wrong with Mr Jackson and she didn’t think she should go.
Susie disagreed. They were discussing the situation over the phone.
‘Of course you should go. I’ll get his tea for him, as I promised. Simon is going to come down and we’ll all eat together. He enjoys a chat with Mr Jackson. Once he’s in bed Simon can go back home, but if you’re really worried I’m quite happy to stay at Kirkside.’
‘No, he won’t like that. I am grateful to you, it’s just … I don’t know, he hasn’t been quite himself since the wedding and he looks a bit flushed today.’
‘Simon can have a look at him when he comes down. Having a retired GP on hand can come in quite useful.’
‘I suppose so …’
‘You go and get yourself ready. You can’t let Robbie down when he’s gone to all that trouble.’
Hope allowed herself to be persuaded, and an hour later was sitting beside Robbie in his 4x4, heading into town. She felt shy. This was an official date, not the casual chats she had become accustomed to.
Robbie didn’t seem to be quite his normal, easy-going self, either. She wondered if he was regretting asking her out.
‘Was it difficult to get away from the farm?’ she asked nervously. ‘I know you have a lot to do. It’s very good of you to work with your dad like this.’
‘It wasn’t that difficult at all,’ said Robbie, frowning. ‘I wasn’t going to ask my dad to help, because he can be so awkward. But he suggested it himself. Weird, actually.’
‘Maybe he thought you deserved some time off?’
‘I doubt it. More likely he wants to check up on me: do the cows himself so he can be sure they’re all right. I actually invited him out for a drink with me some time this week, but he said he didn’t have the time.’ Robbie looked most put out, and Hope could sympathise. From what she had seen of his father, he wasn’t an easy man. It was good of Robbie to invite him out.
‘Maybe he appreciated the gesture?’
‘Maybe. Who knows, with my old man. I’ve given up trying to fathom him out.’ But his frown remained, and Hope suspected he hadn’t given up at all, he was still pondering on the problem. It was good to see someone who made an effort with their family. Not something she had ever experienced, herself. She thought of the box of family photographs Susie had given her to take back to Kirkside. So far, she hadn’t looked at one.
The film was being shown in a small cinema on the banks of the river. Afterwards Robbie had booked a table in a restaurant in the same building. Over the meal, they chatted about the film, a South American comedy that had been peculiar rather than funny, and about Luke and Clare who were due back in a few days’ time, and about the food which was delicious.
Once again, Robbie was very easy to talk to. He seemed to have recovered from whatever unease had troubled him earlier on. He took her hand as it lay on the table, listening attentively to what she said, smiling into her eyes. It was strange to feel so special.
‘Are you going to play in that ceilidh band again?’ she asked him, wanting to learn more about him. ‘I didn’t realise you could play so well. I mean, I know you said you played a bit, but that was amazing.’
‘It was a good job I’d been practicing, wasn’t it?’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s something I’ve always loved doing, playing the fiddle. I’d kind of wondered about getting back into a band, but it won’t be Abhainn. They don’t need a second fiddler,
although they’ve said they’ll call on me if they ever need a stand-in, which I suppose is a compliment.’
‘Of course it is. You were brilliant. They should have been grateful to have you.’
‘Oh, they were. They even cut the cost of the gig seeing as I’d helped out like that.’
‘They should have paid you,’ said Hope, laughing.
‘Actually, they offered, but I thought it better if they reduced their price. Anyway, I couldn’t take payment for playing at my brother’s wedding, could I? Even if my father probably does think that is what happened.’
His frown returned. Hope wondered why he hadn’t just told his father the truth, but decided that would have been too straightforward. She sought for a change of subject to distract him.
‘I’m going to need to do something to earn a bit of money myself,’ she said. She began to tell him about the dressmaking jobs she had taken on, and how much she was enjoying them.
‘But like your music, I don’t think I could make a living from it. And anyway, I’m not trained as a dressmaker.’
‘Sounds to me as though you are as good as. Clare thought you were better than the woman they paid to do the bridesmaids’ dresses. She was very impressed.’
Hope blushed, pleased and embarrassed. ‘That was nothing, honestly.’
‘But you enjoy doing it, don’t you? Why don’t you take on a bit more and see how it goes?’
‘I don’t know.’ Hope had never considered it seriously. ‘I’d need to set myself up properly, have my own studio and so on.’
‘And would you like to do that?’
Hope shrugged. ‘I’m not sure.’ She was enjoying sewing to demand more than she had expected. Previously she had only made things for herself or occasionally for close friends. She hadn’t seen this as a marketable skill. ‘I thought I was more interested in fabrics. I never intended getting into the design and sewing side.’ She smiled at the thought of the pleasure she had had, setting up her lovely shop. ‘It is such fun, sourcing materials, providing the right ones for the right people. I just loved looking at the shelves and shelves of fabric. I suppose that sounds stupid, doesn’t it? Anyway, that didn’t work out.’
‘It must have been awful, your friend disappearing, letting you down like that.’ Robbie stroked her hand gently, his sympathy so sincere she found herself telling him more about what had happened. And about how Amy had now been found, and how instead of being relieved she just felt more confused.
‘My solicitor wants me to press charges against her. But I can’t do that, can I?’
‘Why not?’ Robbie didn’t seem judgemental, just interested.
‘She was my friend.’
‘But if she stole from you she wasn’t really your friend, was she? And she didn’t just steal from you.’
Hope looked down, embarrassed. ‘In the end, nobody else lost out.’
‘How was that? I don’t understand. I thought you said she’d taken everything, left you with lots of debts.’
‘She did. She left the business with huge debts.’ She sighed. She knew he was going to think she was stupid, like everyone else did. ‘But I paid everything off, from my own money.’
‘Goodness. Did you have to do that? Has it left you penniless?’
‘I didn’t have to, legally. We had a limited liability partnership which meant I wasn’t legally responsible for the business debts. But I felt responsible. So I paid them.’
He looked at her for a long time in silence. ‘That was a very noble thing to do.’
‘What?’ She was amazed. Her solicitor and accountant had thought she was crazy. She hadn’t even explained the details to Simon and Susie, she knew they too would have advised her not to do it. And now Robbie sounded approving.
‘You don’t think I’m mad? That I should have let other people suffer and kept the money for myself?’
‘Not if you felt you shouldn’t. And you’re not that kind of person, are you?’
Now that he was taking her side, Hope felt she had to explain what a fool she had been. ‘But it was my mother’s money, money she left me to set myself up in life. That’s what she thought she was doing. And I just wasted it.’ She still felt guilty about that. She didn’t regret giving the money away, but she was sorry she had let her mother down.
‘Your mother must have brought you up to be the way you are. Maybe she would have understood?’
Hope thought that over. It was a new idea. Her mother had always been careful with money. She had had to be, bringing up a child on her small widow’s pension and part-time earnings. But she had been scrupulously honest in her financial dealings. Up to a few weeks ago, Hope would have said her mother was scrupulously honest about everything. Now she knew there were ways of deceiving without actually lying.
She wondered if the way her mother was about money stemmed from her own childhood. She imagined money had been tight at Cleughbrae. In answer to Robbie’s question, she nodded and said, ‘You know, I think she might have understood. My mother never liked to see anyone struggling.’
‘Well, there you are then. It’s just a shame it has left you without a nest egg. Do you think there is any chance you could get any of the money back from your so-called friend?’
‘No,’ said Hope. She decided, at that moment, she wouldn’t even try. It was over. Best to leave the past behind and move on. ‘Actually, it didn’t take all my money, just most of it. I’m not completely poverty-stricken.’ She didn’t want him to think she was seeking sympathy.
‘That’s good,’ said Robbie smiling at her warmly. ‘You’re better off than I am then. I thought coming to live back at home was a good idea. Mum was keen and I thought it would let me save up so I could get a place of my own. But the longer I stay at the farm the more I think I was wrong. If it was possible I’d move out right now.’
‘Your mum would hate that,’ said Hope immediately.
‘What about my father? I’m sure he’d love it. They’re both perfectly fine about Luke and Clare moving into the little bungalow at the edge of the village.’
‘That’s different,’ said Hope immediately. ‘They’re getting married. They’ll want to start their new life in a place of their own.’
‘I suppose,’ said Robbie. He looked at her in a new way, as though something had changed, although she couldn’t imagine what. ‘Yes,’ he said, raising her hand suddenly to his lips and kissing her fingers. ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’
Hope wasn’t sure if she was pleased of disappointed when the waiter came up to see if they wanted dessert and Robbie released her hand to take the menu.
It had been a lovely evening. Everything about it was perfect. The strange little movie, the meal, Robbie’s company. They didn’t stay out too late. Much as Hope was enjoying herself, a little part of her mind was still worrying about Mr Jackson, and soon after ten they set off home.
‘We could do this again sometime?’ suggested Robbie as he drew up before Kirkside.
‘I’d like that. I …’ Hope paused and looked about.
Something was wrong. There were too many lights on in the house: practically every downstairs room was lit. And Simon Ashbury’s car was still here. As she peered around, Hope saw a second vehicle which she didn’t recognise.
She jumped out of the car without another word and ran up the steps, pushing open the heavy wooden door.
Susie came hurrying out of the kitchen.
‘Hope, my dear, I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t decide whether to phone you but I didn’t want to disturb your evening …’
‘What’s wrong? Is Mr Jackson all right?’
‘He’s not too well. Simon was starting to worry about his temperature and we decided to get the on-call doctor to come and have a look. Mr Jackson was quite awkward about it; I don’t know how you’ve coped with him, it’s not easy to get him to do something he doesn’t want, is it? But it’s a good thing we went ahead. They think it’s a blood clot and an ambulance is on its way. He n
eeds to have it dealt with as soon as possible.’
‘A blood clot? But surely …’ Hope had read all the notes about what to do after an operation like Mr Jackson’s. She had tried to follow the instructions. Blood clots were a known risk. She remembered what the symptoms were. A high temperature. Pain in the calf or leg. Should she have realised?
‘Can I go and see him?’
‘The doctor’s still with him. Such a young man, they seem to be scarcely out of their teens these days … Ah, here they are.’
Simon Ashbury and a dark-haired man who didn’t look particularly young to Hope appeared from Mr Jackson’s bedroom. She waited only long enough for them to confirm what Susie had told her, and then went in to see the old man herself.
He was lying propped up on his pillows, looking dazed. He didn’t turn his head as she approached.
Hope took his hand, which was very hot. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here,’ she said softly. ‘You’ll be right as rain as soon as they get you to hospital.’
‘Ah, you’re back.’ He paused. ‘Didn’t want to spoil your evening.’
‘My evening doesn’t matter! It’s getting you well that counts.’
‘I’m an old man, Hope. Don’t take on so.’
Hope could feel tears welling up in her eyes. He sounded like he had given up. ‘You’ve got to fight this,’ she said, desperately. ‘Now they’ve identified the problem you’ll be fine.’
‘I’m very tired,’ he said so quietly she could hardly hear. The words made her shiver. She remembered her mother saying that, near the end.
‘You’ll be fine,’ she said again, squeezing his thin fingers. ‘I’ll come to the hospital so you’re not on your own.’
‘No.’ A pause. ‘Stay with Lucy.’ Another pause. ‘You’re a good girl, Hope.’
Sounds outside heralded the arrival of the ambulance and there was no time for further conversation. Lucy stood with her shaggy head pressed against Hope’s leg as Mr Jackson was transferred to a stretcher. The old man placed a shaking hand on the dog’s rough coat for a moment before they took him away.
Family Matters Page 10