Now his eyes rested on her lovingly. It saddened Derek that she had never remarried. He felt sorry that she was alone, and he frequently worried that she would be lonely in her old age without a partner by her side. For the moment she was a busy woman, of course, caught up in the daily running of Jardine’s. But one day she would retire, step down, hand over to Nigel.
Nigel. His mind settled on Stevie’s eldest son. There was no question that Nigel must be plotting against her, if she believed this. But why? It didn’t really make sense.
8
“GRANDPA! GRANDPA! WAIT FOR ME. WAIT FOR ME!”
Derek swung around and saw Chloe racing after him across the lawn, and so he paused, stood waiting for her.
“What is it, Chloe? Is there something the matter?” he asked when she finally drew to a standstill next to him.
“No, Grandpa,” she panted, endeavoring to catch her breath. “I just wanted you to wait for me so that I could come with you on your walk.”
“And I thought there was a major disaster, the way you were screaming like a banshee.”
She threw him a swift glance, saw at once that he had a teasing look in his light blue eyes. She relaxed, laughed lightly, then she said, “I can come with you, can’t I?”
“Of course, but come along, let’s not stand here. It’s not that warm today. I was making for the summerhouse down by the river. It’s a pleasant walk there and back.”
Chloe nodded, tucked her arm through Derek’s, and fell in step with him.
He said, “You mustn’t shout like that, Chloe, screaming so hard; you could very easily damage your voice.”
“But I’m not going to be an actress, Gramps.”
“Nevertheless, you could hurt yourself, strain your larynx. I once did, and it was very painful, let me tell you.”
“When did you do that?”
“Oh, a long time ago, when I was a young actor just starting out. I was shouting very loudly instead of throwing my voice. You see, I wanted it to reach the back of the theater, and I really did hurt myself in the process, quite badly too. It taught me a good lesson. I went out of my way to learn how to project my voice after that. I could pitch it quite high, but that wasn’t really what was needed to reach the last row. So I worked with a voice coach, who told me that if I spoke very distinctly, I would make everyone in the theater hear me. I soon learned that volume didn’t matter. It was distinctness that did. I also learned to enunciate my words very carefully, without making it seem labored.”
“It must have been exciting when you first became an actor.”
“It was, and it still is, Chloe. There’s nothing quite like walking onto a stage for me, or saying those first lines. It’s truly thrilling, if a little frightening sometimes.”
“Frightening?”
“Oh, yes. Like many actors, I often suffer from stage fright. Not as much as I used to, but it still attacks me now and then.”
“You?” Chloe swung her eyes, looked at him, and shook her head in wonder. “Gramps, I can’t believe it! Not you, Sir Derek Rayner, the greatest classical actor on the English stage today.”
He smiled slightly. “As I just said, many actors; do have attacks of stage fright. My friend Rich did, he used to tremble excessively at times. Other actors I know experience nausea, and poor old Larry Olivier had a curious nervous laugh when he first walked onto a stage. At the beginning of his career, that is. He managed to get that laugh under control eventually, at least most of the time.”
“And you, Grandpa? What happens to you?”
“I shake a bit, feel sick, think I’m going to vomit, worry that I’m going to forget my lines and make a fool of myself. I suppose that’s what stage fright is about actually, the terrible fear that one is going to make a mess of it all and look ridiculous in front of an audience.”
“I understand. It must be awful.”
“It is. Fortunately, it doesn’t last long for me. Once I’ve said my first few lines, I’m off and away, and I forget everything because I’ve become the character I’m playing. The drama of it sweeps me along.”
“Sometimes I’ve thought that I would like to be an actress, and I once even talked to Grandma about it, but she sort of…put me off.”
“Did she now.” Derek’s eyes twinkled. He continued. “But you should follow your star, my dear, and never listen to anyone.”
“You’d better not let Mom hear you say that; she’ll be mad at you,” Chloe cautioned.
“You’re right, she would indeed be angry. However, she’s bright enough to know that I speak the truth. Shakespeare said it best when he wrote, ‘To thine own self be true.’ You must always remember that. If you live by this yardstick, you won’t go too far wrong.”
“What Shakespeare meant was that we should be true to our own beliefs. Isn’t that so?”
“Indeed it is. You’re eighteen now, Chloe, and growing up fast. It’ll be time for university soon.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, and held her breath for a moment, wondering whether to confide in him.
“That’s a very small yes, and not at all like you. Why, you sound like a scared little church mouse.”
Chloe had to laugh. “No, I don’t.”
“Well, what about it? I thought it was always Oxford for you.”
When she did not respond, Derek came to a sudden stop, took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Chloe, Oxford is magical…a city of colleges and quads, domes and shining spires, the Bodleian Library, All Souls, and the Union. This glorious place does exist, if you want it, darling.”
“I don’t know anymore, Gramps,” she answered, as always being scrupulously honest with him because of his immense integrity and his love for her.
“I see.” There was a moment’s pause before he murmured, “But you were so very positive about going up to Oxford when you were old enough.” He stared at her keenly, his eyes penetrating. “What’s happened to make you change your mind?”
Chloe hesitated fractionally, then answered quietly, “Nothing, not really.” She shrugged her shoulders lightly. “I think…well, to be honest, I don’t want to go to college at all, Gramps. I’d like to…work at Jardine’s.”
“Good God! You can’t be serious!” Not waiting for her to say anything, he rushed on. “I can see that you are very serious from the look on your face. Why the change of heart, darling?”
“I don’t know; I can’t really explain it.”
“Have you told your mother this?”
Chloe nodded. “Yes, on Wednesday night, when I first got here.”
“Mmmm. Is she pleased that you want to go and work with her at the store?”
Chloe bit her lip. “Mom wants me to finish my education, go to college. More specifically, she wants me to go to Oxford.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.”
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “I’d like to work with Gideon at the London store.”
Derek was flabbergasted when he heard this, although his expression was unreadable when he said, “I sincerely hope you didn’t tell your mother that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Oh, dear…she must have been terribly upset.”
Chloe bit her lip and nodded again.
Derek took hold of her hand, tucked her arm through his, and started to walk on toward the river. A silence fell between them.
Eventually, Derek broke the silence when he murmured, “I am quite certain that it hurt her very much, Chloe, hearing this from you.”
“I suppose so,” she mumbled.
“I don’t understand you!” he exclaimed, sudden irritation rushing to the surface. “Why London? You could learn as much in New York. And there’s no one smarter than your mother. Being at the Fifth Avenue store with her would please her no end; I know that for a fact. It wouldn’t do you any harm either.”
“I think I would learn a lot more about stones and designing jewelry in London. The showrooms are bigger, so are the wor
kshops, and there are many other kinds of craftsmen there, as well as lapidaries—silversmiths, goldsmiths. Anyway, Gideon would teach me better than anyone. He’s one of the greatest lapidaries there is, and he’s the Crown Jeweller, the only person allowed to handle the Crown Jewels of England.”
“Yes, yes, I know all that,” Derek exclaimed irritably. “But look here, Chloe, you could work at Jardine’s, be it in London or New York, after you’ve graduated. I’m the last person to stop you from chasing your dream; didn’t I just say that to you? Nevertheless, won’t you consider going to university? For yourself, for your mother, and for me too, but mostly for yourself. It’s so important for your future, whatever career you choose ultimately.”
There was only the slightest hesitation before she said, “I’ll think about it, Grandpa.”
The two of them walked on quietly, without speaking, lost in their own thoughts, still heading in the direction of the river that flowed past the house at the bottom of the gardens.
Derek was truly dismayed about his conversation with Chloe, and genuinely upset for Stevie. Knowing her as well as he did, he realized how terrible she must be feeling, hurting inside. Oh, the young, how carelessly cruel they could be with their rash words, usually uttered without a single thought. And no hurt ever intended, of course. Selfish youth. But then, hadn’t he been selfish when he was young? When he thought he knew it all, believed he had all the answers?
He was sixty-eight years old now, and in so many ways he felt as though he knew nothing, had learned nothing, in spite of the multitudinous experiences in his life. The longer he lived, the less he knew, or so it seemed to him. He was always telling Blair that nothing surprised him anymore, because he always expected the worst. Yet he was constantly being surprised. Chloe had just done that.
They arrived at the summerhouse, which stood under the willows close to the river’s bank. Derek marched purposefully up the steps, saying over his shoulder, “Let’s sit in here for a few minutes; it’s nice to watch the wildlife on the river from here, and we’re protected from the wind. Anyway, I need a rest; that was quite a long walk.”
Dutifully Chloe tramped after him up the short flight of steps and joined him on the wooden bench where he had seated himself.
Slowly she unwound her scarf, pulled off her knit cap, and sighed as she ran her hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face.
“All the troubles of the world on your shoulders, eh, Chloe?”
She shook her head.
He looked at her intently and realized that she was on the verge of tears. Reaching out, Derek put his hand on her arm and murmured gently, “Now, now, what’s all this?”
“Nothing, nothing, Grandpa,” she said, shaking her head, and then she flicked her fingers across her eyes, swallowed hard, and tried to smile without success. Her bottom lip quivered slightly.
“There’s nothing to cry about, Chloe. Was I too harsh with you, darling? I didn’t mean to be.”
“No, no, you weren’t. Honestly, you weren’t. It’s just me. I’m being silly, I suppose.”
“In what way?”
“I’ve upset my mother about not going to college, and you, too, Grandpa. And I guess I’ve really hurt her feelings, telling her I prefer to work in London. I didn’t want to cause trouble. I really didn’t, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone either, especially Mom.”
“I know that, Chloe, and I’m quite certain that she does too. Anyway, you did say you would consider going to Oxford first, before embarking on a career, be it at Jardine’s or not. If you tell her this, you will please her, make her feel so much better, I promise you.”
Chloe was silent. After a split second she nodded and then, swiveling her head to Derek, she stared at him, biting her lip nervously. Quite unexpectedly, and much to her mortification, tears welled in her eyes, slowly slid down her cheeks.
“Chloe, Chloe, whatever’s the matter?” Derek asked, staring at her in concern, reaching out once more, taking hold of her hand this time.
When she remained silent, he asked, “Is there something you want to tell me? Do you have some sort of problem?”
Taking a deep breath, Chloe replied, “One of the reasons I wanted to come for a walk with you was to ask you something—” She cut herself off and simply stared at him as blankly as before.
Derek nodded. “Go on, then, ask me. I’m not going to bite your head off, you silly goose.”
“It’s…it’s about…about my father.”
“What about him?” Derek asked, although he knew at once what she was going to say.
“Who was he really?”
Derek sighed heavily. “I don’t know, truly I don’t, Chloe.”
“Would you tell me if you did know?”
“I most certainly would.”
“I don’t think my mother is being fair to me. I’m grown-up now. Anyway, I’ve known about being illegitimate for years. I think I should know about my father, know about his background, who he was, what he was like.”
“I agree, Chloe,” Derek replied, and he meant this.
“Then help me, Gramps, please.”
“How, darling?”
“Talk to Mom. She listens to you. Tell her she should tell me everything about my father.”
“She won’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve no idea.” He shook his head. “She’s always been very secretive about him.”
“You never met him? Never knew him?”
“No, I didn’t, Chloe.”
“And Grandma?”
“She didn’t meet him either. He was always…the mystery man.”
“I don’t even know what my father looked like,” Chloe whispered, her eyes filling.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“Grandpa, please talk to her.”
“First, let’s go and talk to your grandmother.”
9
BLAIR STOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SMALL SITTING room that adjoined their bedroom, staring first at Derek and then at Chloe. She exclaimed, “You’re both looking very conspiratorial! What is it?”
Derek said, “Ask Chloe, my dear,” and walked across the room, where he positioned himself in front of the fire, stood warming his back against the flames.
“Is something wrong, Chloe?” Blair asked, searching her granddaughter’s face intently, frowning as she did so.
“I want to know about my father, everything about him. Mom has never told me a thing. Please, Grandma, you tell me,” Chloe said, getting straight to the heart of the matter. “Please?”
Blair was somewhat taken aback and showed it. Then she sat down heavily in a chair and said, “But I can’t tell you anything, Chloe. For the simple reason I never knew your father. I never met him, never even spoke to him on the phone.”
“But Mom must have said something about him, mentioned him to you.”
“She didn’t.”
“But how…how did she tell you about me, Gran?”
“She came to me one day and said she was pregnant. I was very happy for her, enthusiastic, because naturally I thought there was going to be a wedding.”
“But there wasn’t because—” Chloe stopped with abruptness. She went and flung herself on the sofa, looking disconsolate.
Derek and Blair exchanged pointed looks, and Derek said, “Because what, darling?”
“Because he was dead. She told me my father was killed in a car crash before they could get married.”
“Oh,” Blair said.
“Didn’t she tell you that, Grandma?”
Blair shook her head.
“Then what did she say?” Chloe demanded quietly.
“Nothing much, actually, Chloe,” Blair told her, and explained, “When I said something about her getting married, how happy I was for her, she said, ‘I’m not getting married. There won’t be a wedding.’ I’ve always remembered her words, remembered that particular day very clearly. It was a rainy day in London, and I recall walking over to t
he window, looking out at our garden. We lived in Hampstead in those days. Near the Heath. I just stood there, feeling numb, looking out at the sodden trees, watching the rivulets of water running down the panes. And I thought, it’s like my tears, the rain is like my tears.”
“So you were upset then, Gran?”
“Of course I was upset! For your mother. After all, she wasn’t getting any younger; she was almost twenty-eight. I wanted her to find happiness with someone, have a second chance at life, a chance with another husband.”
“Instead of another husband, she got me. The bastard.”
“Chloe! Don’t speak in that way! You’ve never been made to feel unwanted or unloved, and certainly you’ve never been made to feel like a bastard. That’s most unfair of you,” Blair chastised, her voice reproving, her face stern. “We’ve all loved you very much, Bruce Jardine included. And you’re a Jardine, don’t you ever forget that. Why, nobody’s given a thought to your father, or asked questions about his identity, for the past eighteen years. There’s another thing you should remember—” She paused, and her voice softened as she finished. “You’ve given us all a great deal of joy, and you’ve made a difference in all of our lives. As I just said, we love you, Chloe, cherish you.”
“Indeed we do!” Derek exclaimed. “And we want only the best for you. Your mother most of all wants that.”
Chloe said, “On my birth certificate it says my father was John Lane. Who was John Lane?”
“I don’t know. Your grandpa doesn’t know.” Blair leaned forward, an earnest look washing across her face. “Until the day your mother told me she was expecting a child, I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend. She worked extremely hard, and she was bringing up your brothers, and it seemed to me she didn’t have very much time left to conduct an affair, have any kind of personal life.”
“She had John Lane, Gran. Ask her. Ask her about him. Make her tell you. Everything. I’ve a right to know.”
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