‘You’ve seen the papers?’
‘Yes.’ Resignation rather than the jubilation she’d expected laced his tone. ‘I think they’ve said it all. So we needn’t.’ He smiled. ‘Am I forgiven?’
‘Of course. But it doesn’t alter what I’ve been saying.’ His face clouding over sent compunction into her voice. ‘I shall always be very fond of you, but please don’t ask me to marry you.’
‘I kid you not, my dear,’ Derek said casually. ‘Marriage was never in it so far as I was concerned. I’m glad we understand each other.’
She couldn’t believe it. ‘You proposed to me.’ How naïve it sounded!
‘Did I?’ He smiled ‘Cast your mind back. I think my phrase was “join forces”. You were the one who mentioned engagement rings.’
It was fair comment. Laughable, humiliating and a relief, by turns all of these, but primarily fair. She remembered that look he had given her the Sunday they’d lunched together when she’d suggested announcing their engagement at Christmas. At the time it had puzzled her, but now she understood. It had been the look of someone who knew better, quite fond but amused. It showed her utter detachment from him that now all at once she just wanted to laugh.
‘As I say,’ Derek repeated ‘Now we understand each other. It’s a spin up. No claims. No encumbrances. Just you and me.’
Her frozen silence seemed to go unnoticed. He strolled to the window beside her. ‘Awkward about Kelly. We may not get her in anywhere mid-term. Still, we’ll worry about that when the time comes. How soon can you get away?’ His arm slipping round her waist acted like a switch. She was alive and galvanised into action.
‘Derek, you must be crazy! I didn’t mean that. I couldn’t!’
‘Stay with me, Maggie.’ He too had a ‘switched-on’ lode. ‘We’ll win next time. There’ll be no complications.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’
‘MacAllan. I admit I underestimated him. He played one hand too close to his chest and overplayed the other. I got him feeling sorry for you; he went on and made you fall for him.’ He laughed. ‘I didn’t think he had it in him, the dog!’
‘Sorry for me?’ Maggie’s voice shook. ‘Derek, stop it. Tell me. What do you mean?’
‘I had to get you in here,’ he said carelessly. ‘You made a colossal mess of it and then you backed down. Oh, that was great, my darling, that was just great. So I had to work on Angus MacAllan. Come back all I said about Kelly and boarding school, we couldn’t have done it without her.’ As Maggie continued to stare he went on: ‘Bachelor girl, not well off, responsible for orphaned niece and working in Ireland “where the green hills are not Highland Hills”. It really was easy. He was full of sympathy, felt he’d rocked the boat, which he had, and offered there and then to see you and make amends. Far as I can make out he’s been salving his conscience ever since.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Maggie’s voice still trembled. ‘That’s not what you said before. What about the job you found for Mac?’
He chuckled. ‘In three days? Be your age, love. I don’t pull ‘em out like rabbits.’
‘You told me...’
‘I told you.’ He sighed resignedly. ‘And I told you to forget it. It was MacAllan’s idea to make it seem you were doing Troy a favour—and mine...’
‘Yes, Derek, I can guess. Yours was to make me think you’d done me one.’ Another little claim on her loyalty, she figured, another little burden of gratitude. Derek both knew her well and had been making doubly sure. In the art of quick thinking and seizing his moment, he certainly needed no tuition.
But it was not a big hurt, in fact it was no hurt at all. The sting came from the realisation that she had been Angus’s penance. South Pacific, the blue sweater, Glencoe and the invitation to Braemar had all been because he was sorry for her. No explanation could have been more deflating. She felt as though she were oozing away into a grey puddle. Pity—what woman wanted pity from the man she loved?
‘Sorry to be the one and all that!’ Derek’s eye carried a spiteful gleam. ‘But there it is. So what will you do now?’
‘Do?’ This had to sound convincing. ‘Carry on, of course. What else? It’s the job I want, not the man next door.’
‘In other words, heads you win, tails I lose,’ he commented sourly.
Maggie was tired of word play. ‘Stop moaning, Derek, you haven’t lost. Or don’t we read the same papers? The Bonnie Tweeds merger has gone through. I told you it would.’
His head tilted. ‘Say that again.’
‘I knew it would be all right. I knew Bonnie Tweeds wouldn’t need all the information you wanted.’
Suddenly there was a stillness. Derek’s face had whitened and was strange to her. His hand closed roughly on her wrist. ‘Did you know this was going on? Did you know about Bonnie Tweeds?’
‘Yes. But surely you did?’
‘Are you mad?’ Why do you think I brought you here? What did you think I wanted?’
‘What you asked for. Corroboration of Angus’s character so that Bonnie Tweeds wouldn’t buy a pig in a poke.’
‘I never mentioned Bonnie Tweeds!’
‘I knew you couldn’t,’ Maggie affirmed simply. ‘That part would have to be confidential. That’s why I couldn’t mention them either.’
‘When did you know?’
‘Two months ago. The day Angus came to Glencullen. He asked to use the phone and he told me why.’
‘And it never occurred to you to tell me. When you knew how important it was?’ Quiet as Derek’s voice was, it had somehow a scaring quality.
‘Naturally not. It was a confidence,’ she said patiently. ‘Though—also—I assumed you knew.’
‘On what grounds?’ Once before he had interrogated her and it had been unnerving. This time again the questions were like hammer blows.
‘You were acting for the firm who wanted to merge with him.’
‘And that proved they were Bonnie Tweeds?’
‘I suppose not. Aren’t they?’
‘It’s not “aren’t”,’ Derek corrected bitterly. ‘It’s “weren’t”. They’re out, and I’ve lost a packet. Thanks to your Sunday School conscience.’
All at once Maggie felt a new anxiety. ‘Derek, what was going on? Would your merger have been better? Has Angus lost too?’
It seemed to amuse except that Derek’s bared teeth had a freak wolfish gleam. ‘Angus MacAllan wouldn’t have known what hit him. My people weren’t interested in merging. They would have taken him to the cleaners.’
Discretion would have left it at that, but the anger that still shook his voice sent him on. His clients were a multimillion American group shopping for a knitwear company in Scotland. Yes, shopping, he repeated loudly, and wanting to buy at the right price. That was why he had been hired, to do the homework. That was why she could have helped. Many a director in personal difficulties had taken the bait of a cash ‘sweetener’. Many obdurate businesses had found themselves unexpectedly in trouble with their competitors.
It was a bombshell. ‘And you do that sort of thing?’ She felt literally sick.
‘Certainly,’ Derek retorted. ‘And if I may jog your memory so do you! Perhaps you should remember that before you start casting stones.’
Before she recovered breath he had whipped the door open and gone striding across the driveway. A moment later she heard the car start.
Shock still numbed her as Angus came round the corner from Strathyre.
‘Hullo. Just wanted to give you some instructions,’ he said calmly.
‘Instructions?’ She fought to bring her mind into focus.
‘About Graham,’ he said, looking at her as though she were a halfwit. ‘I can’t leave this till tomorrow. I’ve got a directors’ meeting which could go on all night!’ It sounded like a joke. She smiled obediently. Why had it not dawned on her before? Angus did speak to her as though she were part of the furniture. An object of charity, perhaps? A responsibility?
‘Perfectly.’
‘I saw Grant’s car, I think, as I was coming over.’
Again it irked, that penetrating, almost carping glance. Perhaps he suspects I’ve broken with Derek, she thought, perhaps he’s afraid the object of charity is going to cry on his shoulder. ‘Yes. What of it?’
‘Nothing,’ he said inconclusively. ‘I heard a funny thing, but I suppose you know what you’re doing.’
‘I think so.’
He looked worried and dull-eyed with no trace of the mischief of that evening in Glencoe. She did not blame him. Now that she knew why he had talked her into coming to Strathyre she could see every step his conscience had dictated and how often it must have been burdensome.
‘Well, about the weekend,’ he began awkwardly.
‘Oh, I meant to tell you.’ She drew a breath. ‘Count us out.’
All credit to him. His face dropped. ‘Why on earth? It would do you good.’
‘Pressure of work.’
‘But I’ve paid for your chalet. Suppose I can’t get a refund?’
This she knew was a joke, but it was unnecessary. As from this moment so were all ‘do-gooder’ acts. ‘What about asking Troy?’ Surely he was not going to let the girl he wanted slip through his fingers.
‘Troy?’ he stared. ‘I don’t think that would be quite fair. Not this time. After all, it is Graham’s treat.’
It was unanswerable. And if he were going on to make a plea to her on Graham’s account that too would be unanswerable. She could not resist it. Despite all resolves she would weaken and give in. But Angus did not plead. ‘Why mope round here on your own when you could be enjoying the good mountain air? You look as though you could do with some this minute.’
So did he. She would have loved to sit him down and make him have a pipe and one of the bottles of beer Derek had left. But if he did stay he might just be taking pity on her loneliness. You could never be sure. So once and for all he had to be shown that no one need be sorry for her.
‘Who said I’d be on my own?’ she laughed. ‘Thanks, Angus, it’s very kind of you, but I’m well able to stand on my own feet, and at the moment they’re rather busy ones.’
‘I see.’ There was no doubt he’d got the message. ‘Well, in that case forget about everything, Graham included. He can go to his school friend. No, please—’ as Maggie began a horrorstruck protest—’I wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘You don’t understand—’ she faltered.
‘I didn’t. I do now.’ His chin had never looked so rugged. ‘And that’s an end to it. There’s nothing more need be said.’ He did not slam the door or send the gravel flying as only a few minutes previously Derek had done. He went undramatically, even raising his hand to sketch a wave. But he did not turn his head.
By the time he reached the corner of his own house she saw him only through a blur of tears, but it was enough. Angus MacAllan had turned back once before because he had been made to feel sorry. Now he was walking on again, his duty done.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next few days were miserable. Kelly’s disappointment was acute and Maggie was learning the hard way that virtue did not bring its own reward. She had rid Angus of his obligations and she thought the phrase was that now ‘she could live with herself again. In fact, she had been much happier living with ignorance. Even memories lost their richness when seen for what they were—Angus feeling sorry, Angus making a gesture, Angus putting up with her.
On Friday at breakfast the weather forecast for the weekend was good, thought it contained a warning of low temperatures.
‘Cream Cracker hasn’t had much exercise these last few days,’ Maggie said craftily. ‘Tomorrow we might try that trek Rob was talking about. Would you like to?’
‘Yes, but I’d rather wait for Graham,’ Kelly said, unfortunately but honestly. She had developed the habit of skipping across the school yard when Maggie dropped her. This morning she drooped.
Given it all over again, Maggie wondered wearily as she drove back to the stables, would she have been so diehard? Perhaps she should have thought of the children before she’d axed the weekend.
As she parked the van in the yard she heard the phone and ran to answer it. ‘Strathyre Riding Stables.’
‘Maggie?’ a familiar voice enquired. ‘I’m hung up here. I can’t get away. Not till some time tomorrow, I think, so the weekend’s off. Will you intercept Graham and explain?’
‘Oh dear, I am sorry.’ Graham’s round face framed in its new pageboy hair style rose before her. He would be very disappointed. The trip had been his idea and he had been looking forward to it so much.
Angus did not appear to realise this. His thanks were grateful but cursory.
‘Well, if he’s left his friends, would you like me to put him up tonight?’ Maggie offered. The three of them could go trekking tomorrow, it would be some sort of recompense.
‘No, no, certainly not,’ Angus said briskly. ‘Tell him to go back to Western Road.’ (It was where Graham had been staying). ‘I’ll phone him later.’
It sounded callous and in a way it was her fault. Had the original arrangement stood she and the children could have gone ahead and Angus could have followed. If it came to that, they still could. Speed was everything. The phone at the other end was about to be put down. She said nervously: ‘Hold on a minute. Could I help?’
Angus listened with a total lack of reaction. ‘I thought you were busy,’ he said unhelpfully.
‘Yes, but this is an emergency.’
‘Is it? You’re sure it’s not a way over the wall?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘My dear girl, you’re not as obtuse as all that. Neither am I. Still, it’s an ill wind, and the children may as well benefit. Take them by all means.’
The truth flashed horribly. He thought he’d been the reason she’d cried off. He thought she’d changed her mind now because he was not going.
‘I think you’ve got the wrong idea.’
‘Later, please. I’ve someone waiting. Can you handle it, then? You know the way, you’ve been there. The accommodation’s booked.’
If she had had doubts she would not have voiced them. ‘Right. Thanks,’ Angus said briskly. ‘I’ll try not to get there too soon.’ There was a click and Maggie found herself gasping protestingly into an empty line.
At least the children were charmed with the arrangement. Getting under way was a hilarious business, Graham suddenly producing an alpenstock and an old pair of skis belonging to Angus. ‘They might be useful, though I admit it’s not very likely,’ he observed judiciously.
Kelly was more positive and noisier. Lately, Kelly was very noisy.
‘No dresses, no dresses!’ she shouted gleefully.
In the car she was still noisy and sang at top pitch.
‘You’re damaging my eardrums,’ Graham moaned.
‘Yes, Kelly, pipe down. We can have too much of a good thing,’ Maggie ordered.
‘Did you say a good thing?’ the man of the party enquired. And how heartbreakingly like his father he looked. Even more so when in response to pressure from Kelly he said seriously: ‘Ay, I could, but I’m saving it for the concert platform.
‘If you would just hold your whist I’d tell you what those cairns were for,’ he added.
Driving conditions were excellent and already they had covered three-quarters of the distance. The rowan trees round Ballater were berryless, the shops displayed the Royal coat of arms and Highland cattle in a field on the outskirts had earned the comment from Graham that they gave stringy meat Now the main road was cleaving its way through the Cairngorms and the skyline to right and left was pepper-potted with stone cairns.
‘When the clans were wanted for a war,’ Graha
m explained, ‘they sent a runner out with two sticks dipped in goat’s blood. It was called the Fiery Cross. That’s how they knew to come. They each put a stone on a pile as they met and when they came back they took it off again, and if they didn’t come back it stayed.’
Maggie respected the Cairngorms. They weren’t the highest mountains in Scotland, but they had a reputation for quick weather changes and they took life. You could get lost and wander for twenty miles in their glens without finding a road. It could be said that like ogres they captured their victims alive, and truth to tell in the fading afternoon light of this last Friday before wintertime the cairn memorials to those who had not come back were an eerie touch.
She was glad to make the right-hand turn into Braemar where the windows of the souvenir shop and the horn craftsman’s premises had gay stag-printed tea-towels and polished cowhorns. A fine stone hotel stood on the left and their own destination just beyond it. As advised, Angus’s friends were expecting them.
Dinner served in the dining-room of the main house was ample and excellent and by the time it was finished even Graham’s head was nodding. The two chalets, each with two bedrooms, had been made ready, but Maggie thought he seemed reticent about sleeping in one by himself. Somehow it added to the pleasure to take him into theirs.
‘You’re getting too fond of Graham,’ she told herself sharply as he said goodnight.
It was not surprising. He was so good-humoured, so patient with Kelly, and so sensible for his years that his excitement that afternoon had been touching. He could not have been more like Angus and there she supposed she had said it all.
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