‘And what will happen now? Can the firm carry on without my father?’
‘Just about. The doc was always trying to find ways of improving the process, but the main problems are solved. Certainly the stuff is effective as it is, and the raw material is so cheap we needn’t bother about the high wastage. Your father had an assistant who is fully qualified to cope with the scientific details. And then we’ve got an overseer who’s a trained man.’
‘How many people do you employ altogether?’
‘Oh, only about fifteen—mostly local people from the village.’
‘I wonder if there’s anything I could do to help?’ I surprised myself with that remark. Up to now, the thought of getting personally involved in my father’s affairs hadn’t occurred to me. But I had just learned that I was the owner of the larger share of a going concern. It was up to me to see that it kept going, for everybody’s sake.
Max Tyler turned to look at me again. There seemed to be an element of speculation in his glance. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I suggest we come to some arrangement for you to sell out.’
‘Mr. Boyce had an idea there might be difficulties about selling. He didn’t think it would be easy to find a buyer.’
‘He’s probably right. But I’ve been thinking things over these last few days and I reckon I could make you an offer myself. Not a lavish one, because there are going to be some difficulties in keeping the firm going. Still, it’ll no doubt sound attractive to you.’ He grinned at me impudently. ‘Especially as you weren’t expecting anything at all until the last day or two. Now what d’you say?
‘It’s very good of you, Max, but of course I can’t decide anything definite right now. I must take a look at things first.’
‘Wise girl, Dulcie. I’m not trying to rush you. I just wanted you to know what I had in mind. It must be a bit of a bind for an actress to have the burden of a business like this thrust on her. It’s not like a set-up where you could just sit back and draw a nice fat divi.’
‘I haven’t always been an actress, you know. When I left college I was all set for a business career over in the States.’
He was taken aback. ‘You look to me as if you’d have been film-star material from the word go,’ he said, going into the male routine. ‘I mean to say, that figure ... and dark hair and deep-brown eyes—a terrific combination. I’ve seen you on the telly, of course. Now what was that thing...?’
I smiled indulgently. So many folks get the idea I’d be insulted to be told they’d never heard of me. I left his question in the air, where it belonged.
‘It was by a lucky fluke that I went into show business at all. I was in a college production of “Streetcar Named Desire,” and somebody saw it and liked me. I started out doing TV commercials.’
‘But you’ve come a long way since then?’
‘Yes, since I’ve been in England. A producer over here told me my half-and-half accent is useful. English people find a sort of diluted Yankee drawl attractive, I guess.’
‘Well,’ he said gallantly, ‘I do anyhow. And not just the accent, either. It must be an exciting life, being in show biz? Surely you wouldn’t want to give it up?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t really got around to thinking about the future. Real business might be safer.'
‘Give me glamour any day. I should think this seems deadly dull to you after London.’
We plunged down into a deep valley and crossed a small river by a hump-backed stone bridge, then slowly climbed the zigzag road up the other side. As we straightened out at the top I could see more hills ahead, and to the right a great bluff loomed over us, with jagged scars of bare rock that broke the smooth sweep of gorse and grass.
‘That’s Woolcombe Beacon—the local beauty spot,’ Max told me. ‘From Crofter’s Point up there you can see four counties and nine churches.’
We were coming up to a crossroads. At one corner was a huge oak tree, and sitting beneath it, on a rough wooden seat that circled its gnarled trunk, was a gnarled old man. He was leaning forward, propped on his stick. As Max slowed for the blind crossing, I found myself looking directly into the weather-beaten face. The old-timer gave me a solemn nod which I acknowledged with equal solemnity. Somehow it would have seemed inappropriate to smile.
I had time to glance at the signpost. To the right lay Woolcombe. ‘Most of the staff come from there,’ said Max. ‘A minibus brings them each day.’
To the left the road led to Lechford, and straight ahead was Westabere. The finger pointing the way we had come was broken off. Was it a signal for me that there was to be no turning back?
Max crossed straight over and accelerated hard.
‘Nearly there,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Just round the next bend.’
All at once I was tense, and immensely curious too. It seemed so strange that a manufacturing laboratory should be set in the midst of this quiet country.
Before I was ready for it, we swung expertly between a pair of massive stone gateposts, each leaning in its own chosen direction slightly out of the vertical. The wrought-iron gates were propped right back and looked as if they were never used.
The drive wound its way through a dense bank of laurel bushes. I could see nothing beyond this dark-green shield until suddenly we were drawn up right in front of the house.
Eagerly I looked up at the home of the father I had never known. The house that now belonged to me.
Chapter Two
Malverton was a large rambling house. There was too much of it to take in all at once. I had a confused impression of grey-stone walls rising to a medley of pointed gables, wide and graceful leaded windows, and tall twisted chimneys.
‘But it’s beautiful!’ I exclaimed in astonishment, not able to believe my eyes. ‘From what the lawyer said, I thought... Well gee, where’s the chemical works?’
Max slapped his knee and roared with laughter. ‘Is that what old Boyce called it? Chemical works? I don’t wonder you’re surprised, Dulcie.’
‘But ... but surely you said so too? I certainly got the idea from you that the works were in the same building as the house.’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t put it quite like that. The house has been converted, and that half on the left is the laboratory. But there’s nothing to show from outside. At the back there’s an extension built on, but the same style has been carefully followed, so it blends in very well.’
It was all so different from my expectations. My legs felt a little unsteady as I got out of the car and walked up the steps, so that I was glad of the light support of Max’s arm. When he pressed the bell, the door was opened at once.
The wide entrance reduced the small figure that stood there to near the proportions of a child. So this was Mrs. Cass. The housekeeper was probably in her sixties. Her body was wiry, her face thin with a sharp nose hemmed in close by watchful pale blue eyes. Her hair had perhaps been her crowning glory once, but now it was an uninteresting grey, and pulled back tight in a straggly bun. She was dressed in drab brown cotton. A cameo brooch at her throat was the only attempt at decoration.
When Max introduced us, Mrs. Cass nodded to me without smiling.
‘Good afternoon.’ Her reedy voice was more cultivated than I would have expected.
She stood back with overdone respect to let us into the house. I was put out, almost angry, at my reception. Without knowing me at all, the woman made it quite clear that she disapproved of me.
‘Tea is ready for you in the drawing-room,’ she said. ‘But I expect you’ll want to wash first Miss ... Royle.’ She had hesitated to use my name. To be fair, I realized that she would think of me as my father’s daughter, and therefore as Miss Drysdale.
When I had freshened up in a downstairs cloakroom, Mrs. Cass showed me into the drawing-room and disappeared. Max was standing with his back to a magnificent white marble fireplace.
‘Well, what do you think of your inheritance, Dulcie?’
‘It’s very grand. I had
n’t expected anything like this.’
‘Your dad’s people were very well off, you know. I believe your grandfather did a pretty good job making a dent in the family fortune, and what was left went on paying for the years of research and all the lab equipment. Fortunately your father had simple tastes. For your sake I hope you have too.’
I looked around me, taking in the room. Its former brilliance had gone, but like an elderly duchess with good bone structure, it had worn well. In spite of sun-faded fabrics and frayed drapes, it still retained an unmistakable elegance. The wallpaper, above a painted dado, was gold silk flock in a formalized design. A huge sofa was placed to one side of the fireplace, and several armchairs were arranged around, all covered in brocade of a pattern much like the wallpaper.
There was a great deal of period furniture to delight my American eye—graceful mahogany-backed chairs, a secretaire with an elaborate porcelain lamp on it, a table that was surely genuine Sheraton. Some past member of the family must have been keen on the sea, for a number of nautical paintings in heavy gilt frames hung above us. But what struck me more than anything else was the huge display of books. They lined the alcoves of the chimney, and half the opposite wall.
I realized I was keeping Max on his feet. Hastily I sat down on the sofa.
‘You sure were right about my father being fond of reading,’ I said.
‘Actually this room was the library in the old days. The original drawing-room is now part of the laboratory on the other side of the hall.’
Full of nervous curiosity, I couldn’t remain sitting for long and I wandered over to the double doors which opened out on to a tessellated verandah. A luxuriant wisteria grew up one of the supports and spread out along the glass roof, its pale mauve tassels hanging in great clusters. Outside a stately cedar of Lebanon shadowed the lawn. The mown area of grass ended in a mass of tall laurels, blocking any further view.
Max came out to join me, and pointed to the modern extension of the laboratory. ‘You see what I mean? It doesn’t detract at all from the house.’
We both turned at a noise in the room behind us. Mrs. Cass was setting down a silver teapot and water jug on the trolley, plus a selection of sandwiches and cakes. ‘You’ll ring if you want more hot water,’ she instructed me stiffly. ‘And what would you like for your dinner, Miss Royle? It’s too late to order anything special from the shops now, but I have some lamb chops in the refrigerator. Or there’s ham and salad....’
‘Whichever is most convenient, Mrs. Cass.’
Hands clasped in front, shoulders drawn up, lips pursed, her disapproval rebuked me. ‘It’s for you to decide, Miss Royle. It’s your house.’
‘The ham then, thank you.’
Without another word she nodded and quickly left the room.
I was too bemused to be hungry, but I made myself eat something. I had a feeling that if no impression were made upon the elaborate array of food, Mrs. Cass would find further cause to resent me. I was glad to see that Max ate quite heartily.
When we had finished tea he suggested we went to look over the laboratory. ‘It’ll be empty now—they all knock off at five-thirty. I think I heard the minibus go off a few minutes ago.’
I found we didn’t need to leave the house. Max led me across the hall to a door in an otherwise blank wall. Looking more closely, I saw now that this whole wall was newer than the rest, though an attempt had obviously been made to match the decorations with the original. Max opened the door, and we passed from the cool, soft light of the house into a dazzling white world of gleaming paintwork. A number of doors led off from the corridor we were standing in.
‘This communicating door is left unlocked during the day,’ said Max. ‘Your father was in and out all the time.’
He took me into a very large room with huge windows along one side. It contained a lot of laboratory equipment. Big glass retorts and shining metal cylinders stood on long benches. Against one wall was what looked like a range of ovens.
Max was vague. ‘This is called the Drying room,’ he said. ‘But I don’t understand just what goes on here. All I know is that it’s a tricky business, and if you don’t mumble the right magic words a whole batch is done in.’
I nodded. ‘I guess it’ll remain just about as big a mystery to me.’
Another room was piled high with cardboard cartons. ‘Storage room and dispatch department.’ said Max laconically. ‘This part is the new extension, by the way.’
‘What’s upstairs?’ I asked him.
‘Nothing over this wing. But in the old part it’s the research lab and offices. Come on, I’ll show you.’
He took the steps three at a time and stood grinning down at me while I climbed up more sedately. He was just showing me into the offices when we both heard a faint whirring sound from a door on the left.
Max looked surprised. ‘I thought everyone would have left by now.’
He went forward and flung the door wide open. I caught a glimpse of a tall man in a white coat, who had spun round with angry consternation on his face.
‘Oh!’ said Max. ‘It’s you, Hamilton.’
‘Shut the door quickly, the draught will ruin everything.’ The tone was peremptory, and very cold. He was a Scot. I knew that from those few sharp words.
Lean and dark, he stood facing us, hands stuck deep into the pockets of his coat, hostile and surly.
‘Sorry,’ Max grunted. He made haste to shut the door, I noticed. ‘I didn’t expect you’d be here still. What are you doing?’
‘An experiment. And not an obliging one. It didn’t decide to come to a neat conclusion just because it was knocking-off time.’
The words were hurled across the room with heavy sarcasm. The deep-set dark eyes gleamed—the man positively seemed to enjoy being unpleasant.
Still not introduced, I stood watching him. His face was curiously arresting, with craggy features and thick dark hair tumbling in an unruly mop across his brow.
At last Max got around to the courtesies. ‘This,’ he told me, ‘is Dr. Hamilton—the boffin of the outfit now.’ If there was a sneer behind the words it was barely detectable. ‘He was your father’s assistant.’
‘I’m glad to meet you, Dr. Hamilton.’ I stretched out my hand, doing my best to ignore the antagonism that hung heavy on the air.
For a moment I thought he wasn’t even going to respond, his reluctance was so marked. When he did, the contact was fleeting. It was as if he couldn’t bear to touch me.
‘I do hope we haven’t spoiled your experiment,’ I went on, in an attempt at appeasement.
‘I shan’t know until it’s finished, but I’m not very hopeful. People usually knock before they come in here.’
The man was impossible. I was surprised that Max took this last rudeness.
‘Miss Royle has just arrived, and I’ve been showing her round,’ he said mildly.
Dr. Hamilton twitched his head. ‘I’m sure she is very interested to see what it is she has inherited so fortuitously.’ He turned his back on us and busied himself adjusting the flame of a bunsen burner. I felt sure the action was unnecessary, and that he was deliberately insulting us.
‘Well,’ said Max. ‘I think you’ve seen all there is to see here, Dulcie.’ He put a hand on my shoulder, urging me away. ‘Have you any objection to us opening the door to go out?’ he asked, sarcastic in his turn.
‘Be quick about it, please.’
As soon as we were outside Max exclaimed, ‘Damned boor!’
I shuddered. ‘What gives with folks around here? They’re all so darned unwelcoming.’
Max laughed a trifle unsteadily, his poise not yet fully recovered. ‘Including present company?’ he asked.
‘Sorry. Of course not you.’
Suddenly we were both light-hearted as we clattered down the stairs, forgetting I hadn’t seen the offices. We were glad to be out of the strained atmosphere.
‘Still,’ I said, laughing, ‘even you are trying to get rid of me.�
�
He looked surprised. ‘What do you mean—get rid of you?’
‘You offered to buy me out, remember?’
‘I’m not sure I won’t take back that offer now I’ve got to know you. But seriously, Dulcie, I think you’d find it horribly dull around here.’
I was coming to the conclusion he was right, though I doubted that dull was quite the word. The disapproving Mrs. Cass, the truculent Dr. Hamilton No, staying at Malverton was not an attractive proposition.
Still, I couldn’t make any decision in a hurry. There was so much I didn’t understand, so much I had to find out. Would I ever learn why it was that I had been allowed to remain in ignorance about my father all those years?
When we reached the house again, through the dividing door, Max said he would have to go.
‘I’ve got a dinner engagement,’ he explained apologetically. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. I’m here most days.’
I stood hesitating in the big hall, alone for the first time since the lawyer had given me details of my inheritance. I didn’t quite know what to do next. Although the house was mine, somehow I felt diffident about wandering around on my own. Almost like an intruder.
Fortunately Mrs. Cass appeared out of nowhere at that moment.
‘I expect you’d like to see your room, Miss Royle. I’ve got the main front bedroom ready, but of course it’s up to you to decide if you want to change it.’
I could understand that she had been upset, even saddened, by my father’s death. She had been with him many years, and she might also be uncertain about her own future now. But that was no justification for treating me with such open resentment before she had ever got to know me.
The upper landing was like the hall—a new partition-wall cut across it, though there was no door up here. I thought of the sullen Dr. Hamilton, a few feet away on the other side of that wall, but no sound penetrated. Perhaps he had gone home by now, his experiment ruined.
A Cotswolds Legacy Page 2