‘Not on your life!’ Emma declared. ‘They’re almost your best effort and they’ll look splendid along that back wall.’
They were inside the gallery now, having obtained the keys from the shop next door, and she was already planning the layout for the exhibition, deciding where this or that would be placed to the best advantage when she had finally studied the light.
Smiling gently at her enthusiasm, Fergus followed her from section to section leaning heavily on his stick, while Katherine tidied up the floor.
‘It isn’t really dirty,’ she decided, wielding a broom when most of the packing material had been stacked beside the door. ‘Just untidy-looking.’
There was much to be done. When they started to carry in the canvases it was amazing to see the amount of work Fergus had got through in the past three years. Most of the larger paintings had been done before his accident, but there were small gems of landscapes which he had worked on after Coralie had left.
‘He put everything he had into them,’ Emma said, coming up behind her as Katherine handled one. ‘It was a sort of escape mechanism as far as he was concerned and I think they’re magnificent. That one is the glen beyond Glassary. He could get there in the car after a while and be alone.’
Katherine had already recognised the painting and the deserted croft on the hillside where Charles had found her when she had strayed from Glassary. Fergus had captured it all so faithfully: the green of the new heather and the grey of the boulders where the river ran down, and the sun gilding the rocks above the treeline. There was even a hint of mist descending slowly as it had done that day as she had cycled along the rough hill track, but in the picture there was a shaft of light above Glassary that was like a promise.
The painting was priced at sixty pounds and she asked impulsively:
‘Do you think I could have it?’
Emma looked surprised.
‘If you really want it,’ she said. ‘Why are you so keen?’
Unable to meet her searching gaze, Katherine looked down at the picture again.
‘Because I was lost up there,’ she said slowly. ‘You can even see the empty croft where Charles and I were forced to shelter till the mist cleared. Fergus has a keen eye for detail.’
Emma continued to gaze at her.
‘I heard about it,’ she said at last. ‘It was lucky that Charles found you so quickly.’
‘I was terrified,’ Katherine admitted. ‘It was so quiet, yet there were so many inexplicable sounds.’
‘The moor whispering!’ Emma laughed. ‘We used to listen as children, scaring each other to death! Never mind—you were rescued, and that must have been the end of fear as far as you were concerned. Another human being on the scene can make a world of difference.’
Katherine could feel the comfort of Charles’s arms about her as they had found each other in the darkness and her fingers tightened possessively about the ornate little frame. ‘I must have it,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll tell Fergus.’
‘His first sale of the exhibition!’ Emma stuck a little red seal on the glass above the painted croft, ‘He’ll take it as an omen! I wish I’d thought of it first,’ she added, ‘because having even one “sold” seal on your work before you open makes a difference. A certain type of person will always buy if they think things are already going well, and we want to encourage them.’
At two o’clock they went out to a nearby restaurant to find something to eat.
‘We can’t do much more,’ said Emma, ‘and I’m ravenous. We haven’t eaten since the cafe at Callander. I really am getting excited now that things are shaping up so well,’ she added. ‘I can see it all happening!’
‘Don’t get too enthusiastic,’ Fergus warned. ‘Otherwise you’ll be more than disappointed if things don’t sell out.’
Emma had arranged most of her own work on little tables between the different sections of his paintings, and it was quite true to say that everything was very saleable if only they could attract the necessary customers.
‘Do we need flowers?’ Katherine asked. ‘Or would they detract from the exhibits?’
‘Nature against art?’ Emma mused. ‘Perhaps they would. I rather like the stark look of Fergus’s drawings against the sea-green of the walls. They’re decoration enough.’
‘You’re right,’ Fergus agreed. ‘All we need is a great bank of azaleas from Glassary to hide all that glass at the entrance. Kate could bring them through on Monday morning.’
Bringing something of Glassary to Edinburgh to remind her of the glen, Katherine thought, but perhaps she didn’t need a cascade of vivid colour spilling from a metal trough to keep the memory of Glassary in her mind.
It had been arranged that she should bring the Mini back to Edinburgh with the final exhibits on the Monday, while Fergus and Emma would join her on Tuesday morning prior to the official opening of the exhibition at two o’clock. They had dispensed with the idea of a celebrity to launch their endeavour, preferring to open quietly and let the public drift in as they felt inclined. They had advertised extensively and Fergus hoped that they would attract the right clientele without the added expense of a glamorous film star or a popular singing idol to speed them on their way.
‘That sort of thing doesn’t really attract the sort of people we want,’ he said, smiling as he looked at the little red seal on Katherine’s picture. ‘It’s buyers we want.’ His eyes lingered on her flushed face. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘My painting? I’m going to keep it,’ she told him, ‘to remind me of these past two weeks. I’m going to hang it on a wall somewhere so that I can look at it all the time. I suppose I want to remember Glassary because, in spite of everything, I’ve been happy there.’
Emma turned abruptly towards the door.
‘Time to go,’ she said. ‘Time to pack up and set out for home.’
It was after three o’clock before they had tidied the entrance, stacking the best of the corrugated sheets into the back of the Mini to take with them.
‘We’ll meet at Callander for a quick snack,’ Emma said, getting in behind the wheel. ‘If you beat me to it, as I think you will, you can order.’
When she drove away Fergus said:
‘I ought to have taken you to see the flat. Did Charles give you a key?’
‘The key and all the necessary instructions,’ Katherine told him. ‘Don’t worry about me settling in. It won’t be the first time I’ve taken over an empty flat.’
She wanted to go to the flat alone, to be there without anyone—not even Fergus—looking on when she first opened the door. It was foolish, she knew, something she found hard to explain, even to herself, but it was what she wanted.
At Callander the Mini was parked at the kerb before the cafe where they had been served excellent coffee that morning and Emma was ordering tea when they joined her.
‘We’ll be home before dark,’ she assured them. ‘There’s plenty of time.’
It was a respite from driving for Fergus, who had insisted on taking the wheel of the Rover when they had left the gallery, and he looked relaxed and almost happy now, thinking of the effort which lay behind them.
‘I’d like Charles to see it,’ he said. ‘Perhaps he’ll drop in during the week if he has time to spare. Personally, I think he works too hard.’
‘He said he might look in,’ Katherine answered, feeling that his brother’s concern for him brought Charles very near. ‘He must want to see what you’ve been doing with yourself all these months,’ she added lightly, ‘and I think he’ll be surprised.’
Emma was still thinking about the exhibition.
‘We’ve got a good position,’ she said. ‘Anyone interested who was in Edinburgh even for a day couldn’t fail to spot us.’
‘With all Kate’s azaleas in the entrance lobby they could hardly miss!’ Fergus laughed. ‘You’re going to need the Rover to bring them over from Glassary.’
‘I could give you rhododendrons if you came
down to the hotel,’ Emma mused. ‘But no! Perhaps we’d better stick to one species and be more artistic!’
They covered the remaining distance to the glen, one behind the other, saying goodbye to Emma when they reached the hotel.
‘You’ll come in?’ she asked, but Fergus shook his head.
‘We’re already late,’ he said. ‘See you Tuesday!’ Turning into the glen, they were conscious of its peace, of the quiet that came, like acceptance, at the ending of the day. Neither of them spoke until Fergus said unexpectedly:
‘If you’ll drop me at the Stable House I’ll get the murals ready.’
Katherine drew up when they had crossed the bridge. ‘I’ll walk from here,’ she offered, getting out from behind the wheel. ‘There’s time to stretch my legs before dinner. You can bring the Rover up when you come.’ Walking slowly through the shrubbery where the rhododendrons shone like pale lamps in the gathering dusk, she allowed the stillness of the gardens to encompass her. There was practically no sound apart from the rustle of leaves as some small creature of the night hurried across her path and a sleepy duck took to the water with a scarcely audible splash. Behind the shrubs and the still water Glassary stood waiting, and when she hurried towards its lighted windows there was a strange hope in her heart.
She came out of the shrubbery on to the end of the terrace, to stand there transfixed by what she saw. The light was still strong enough and there could be no mistake. Her car had been returned from the garage where it had been repaired and it was waiting for her outside the front door. Charles was letting her see as plainly as he could that she was no longer welcome at Glassary. It was his way of saying goodbye.
CHAPTER SIX
CHARLES was standing in the hall when Katherine went in.
‘There’s been a phone call,’ he said, coming forward. ‘Someone for you. Mrs. Stevas took it and didn’t ask who was speaking. It was a woman’s voice, but the line was bad.’
He was looking directly at her and because she still felt distressed about the car her voice faltered a little.
‘I’ve no idea who it could be,’ she said after a moment’s consideration. ‘No one knows where I am.’
‘Except Coralie,’ he suggested. ‘You phoned her several times.’
‘Only to leave a message.’ She met his distrustful gaze, aware of a new anger in him. ‘You must believe me, Charles. I haven’t spoken to Coralie direct since I left London, but I did think she ought to know where Sandy is. I’d be out of my mind with worry if he was my son and I discovered that my sister hadn’t got him, after all.’
‘I doubt if you would ever find yourself in that kind of situation,’ he said, to her surprise, ‘but that’s beside the point. Do you think she’ll come here?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve no idea what Coralie might do because I’m realising, more and more, that I never really knew her. It was a man who answered when I last phoned the flat, and he seemed to know quite a lot about her,’ she added reluctantly. ‘He gave me the impression that she’d pursue her career quite ruthlessly now that she found herself on the road to success.’
Charles nodded his agreement.
‘There’s just one thing,’ she added, taking off her coat. ‘However ambitious a woman may be, she must want her child more than anything else.’
‘To trail round the world with her, leading an unnatural life?’ His eyes were suddenly remote. ‘We don’t intend Sandy to develop into a mixed-up kid, as he would do if he were left entirely to Coralie’s tender mercies. Fergus has legal custody and he’s given Coralie reasonable access to Sandy in the past, but now we have to settle for the letter of the law. No more “kidnapping”, as she likes to call it. This is Sandy’s home. You can see for yourself how happy he is at the Stable House with his father, and when Fergus eventually marries again he’ll be able to give him a normal home.’
‘I don’t think it will be very long before Fergus does remarry,’ said Katherine, thinking of Emma and the bond which existed between her and Sandy. ‘If this exhibition is a success—even if they sell only half of their work—it will make a tremendous difference to him. He wants to prove himself, Charles, to feel that he can stand again on his own two feet with no props to support him. I don’t mean that he isn’t grateful for all you’ve done for him,’ she added swiftly, ‘but it would help a lot if he could feel capable of supporting a wife and family on his own.’
Charles moved to the open door to look out.
‘It’s a natural enough ambition,’ he allowed, ‘and I can only thank you for your part in it.’
She tried to smile.
‘Don’t thank me too soon,’ she said. ‘I was just adding things up because—because I’ve become very fond of Sandy in the short while I’ve known him. I hope he can have the best of two worlds,’ she added quietly. ‘Knowing his mother—being with her from time to time—yet recognising Glassary as his true home. It’s asking a lot of a child of his age to accept the fact that his mother lives such a nomadic life most of the time, but Glassary might make up for that. Its security is something that even a child could accept.’
She stood beside him in the open doorway looking out into the night and seeing only the means which would take her away from the glen.
‘Now that my car is repaired I must go,’ she said bleakly. ‘You can’t want to keep me here any longer, Charles. I’ve been nothing but an embarrassment to you.’
‘Where will you go?’ he asked without turning to look at her.
‘To Edinburgh for the exhibition. After that, I don’t know. I love Scotland,’ she added simply. ‘I’d like to stay here.’
He looked beyond the shadowy outline of her car to where the hills came down, closing in the glen.
‘It shouldn’t take Fergus too long to make up his mind,’ he said brusquely. ‘There’s just one thing.’ He turned to look at her, at last. ‘I don’t think you should tell him about the phone call when there’s just a chance that it wasn’t Coralie after all.’
‘They’ll ring again if it was important,’ Katherine said, ‘and meanwhile I’ll try to think who else it might have been. I’d cut adrift from my old colleagues in a way after my boss died, but it’s just possible that one of them might have traced me to Glassary. How, I don’t know, unless they had some idea that I’d always had a love affair with Scotland!’
Her gaze followed his to the shadowy contours of the hills and the dim outline of the mountains above them and back again to the nearer quiet of the gardens where the rhododendrons still gleamed in the dark, realising suddenly that he might think she was pleading her own cause.
‘There must be lots of things I could do in Edinburgh,’ she concluded firmly, ‘but meanwhile I’m not thinking farther ahead than the outcome of the exhibition.’
In the silence which followed her confession twin headlights pierced the darkness, heralding Fergus’s approach from the Stable House.
‘He’s changed completely,’ said Charles, turning to go inside. ‘At one time he wouldn’t even attempt to drive again.’
Fergus braked beside her parked car.
‘That was quick,’ he said, winding down his window. ‘Or is it just that we don’t want you to go?’
‘I’ve had my reprieve,’ Katherine tried to say lightly. ‘Charles obviously feels that I can’t do any more harm.’
Painstakingly Fergus edged himself from behind the steering-wheel to cross the gravel to her side.
‘I never thought that you did,’ he said gravely, putting an arm about her shoulder in a comforting way. ‘Even when you first came here I guessed that you must be doing it for Sandy’s sake and that you weren’t really Charles’s prisoner. The whole idea was absurd, you know. He couldn’t possibly have kept you at Glassary against your will.’
‘I suppose I knew that, really, but it was all rather disconcerting in the beginning,’ Katherine admitted. ‘I had no idea what you would be like or how—homely Glassary would turn out to be. I suppose I judged everything b
y Charles’s attitude towards me, but I think I can understand his anger now, though not his contempt.’
‘It’s time he got over that,’ said Fergus, pressing her hand. ‘Don’t worry too much about it, Kate, if he hasn’t such a good opinion of women. He has his reasons, quite apart from Coralie, but that’s too long a story to relate just now.’
She looked round at him, trying to see the expression in his eyes.
‘He never married,’ she said. ‘Was it because of someone? Someone he loved and lost?’
Fergus hesitated, looking towards the house with its watching windows.
‘More or less,’ he said. ‘Charles has a long memory.’
They walked the short distance to the door, still with his arm about her shoulders, and his grip seemed to tighten as they entered the hall where his brother was waiting. Charles turned towards the fire which Mrs. Stevas had lit in the wide stone fireplace to dispel the damp, and Katherine thought it would have been the most welcoming sight in the world if her thoughts hadn’t been in turmoil.
‘How did your day go?’ Charles asked his brother. ‘Are you more or less ready to stun the public with your genius and Emma’s little men?’
‘The “little men” are mostly animals,’ Fergus laughed, releasing Katherine as they reached the fireplace.
‘I thought she’d bequeathed most of the animals to Sandy,’ Charles said. ‘Judging by his collection I shouldn’t think she has many left.’
‘She’s been hoarding them for years,’ Fergus returned. ‘I’d no idea how many she’d made. I’m going down to the hotel in the morning to help her root out some more in case we do have a quick sale.’
‘She could do them on commission afterwards, I suppose,’ Charles suggested. ‘How long will you be away tomorrow?’
‘Why?’ Fergus asked. ‘Is there anything spoiling? Anything I could do here?’
Charles shook his head.
‘Not a lot,’ he said. ‘I’ll be going on to the hill to check up on some prowlers we’ve seen around at the weekends. They come up with innocent-looking caravans and not so innocent-looking vans and invariably there’s a fleece lying in the heather where they’ve butchered a ewe. They don’t always take the fleece with them and, of course, we’ve to think of the lambs. They’re not big enough yet to be worth killing, but we have to protect them if the ewe’s been taken.’
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