Old Sins

by Penny Vincenzi

  She did not greatly mind, and indeed it was good to feel stronger, more in command of life, but there was no denying it was a worry. Dotty seemed to have no concept that she was a drain on the household, and it was made worse by the boy, sitting there, doing almost nothing and eating her out of house and home.

  Miles was very devoted to Dotty, of course, very sweet and charming he seemed, you couldn’t exactly dislike him, and she felt almost sorry for him these days, now that Billy was gone. He was obviously lonely, but she really couldn’t figure out why he didn’t get himself a proper job. It wasn’t good for him and it wasn’t natural. More importantly, it wasn’t fair on her. He’d had a fine education and he’d got a good degree, and here he was wasting his days on some tennis court, and seemed to think all he had to give her in the way of a contribution to the household was a smile, and occasionally help Little Ed with chopping wood. She wondered what in the end he was planning to do. Nothing, going on past performance. That kind of thing irritated, even angered Marcia. A young man should have a sense of purpose, not waste his life away; and besides she just didn’t like him being around so much during the day. It offended her sense of rightness. It hadn’t been so bad at first, when he had obviously had to settle down, find his feet, but now day by day it got more on her nerves. And besides, there was just something about him she didn’t quite trust. She wished Dotty had left him on the beach in California; she wished he would go back there.

  She wondered what was going to happen to the house in Malibu. It was all very well, Dotty living here, and she was pleased to have her, but it seemed awfully silly just leaving that place empty, rotting, when it could be converted to money in the bank.

  She wondered where the deeds were. Presumably in Dotty’s box under her bed, with all her other stuff, the pictures of Lee, and her will and everything. She felt for the box; it was there. Cautiously Marcia pulled it out and tiptoed out of the room.

  ‘Dotty,’ she said that night, casually, over supper. ‘Have you thought of selling your house in California lately?’

  ‘No, no,’ said Mrs Kelly firmly. ‘That’s mine. I wouldn’t sell it.’

  ‘It isn’t a lot of use to you, Dotty. Not sitting there. You should convert it into money.’

  ‘I don’t want Miles to have the money. It won’t do him any good.’

  ‘Nobody’s saying Miles should have the money, Dotty,’ said Marcia patiently. ‘You should have it. In the bank. Earning interest.’

  ‘Me? What for?’

  ‘Well, Dotty, dear, I’ve never said anything before, but I ain’t getting any richer. Times are costly. It would be a real help if you could put a bit in now and again.’

  Mrs Kelly was stricken. Emotion cleared her brain. ‘Marcia! You should have said before. Oh, my! I certainly have been thoughtless and selfish. You’re right. I’ll put the house on the market straight away.’

  ‘I’ll do it for you, Dotty. You don’t have to worry with any of the details. Just give me the deeds, and I’ll go down to my lawyer in the morning, and get it all put in hand.’

  ‘All right, Marcia. That’s very kind of you. I’m sorry, I’m real sorry. I never intended to take your charity. I’ve been paying into your account each week, or so I thought, and imagined it was enough.’

  ‘Well, Dotty, not quite, not any more. Give me the deeds, dear, and I’ll see to it.’

  ‘They’re in my box. Under my bed. I’ll get them after dinner.’

  ‘All right, dear.’

  Marcia thought it best for Dorothy to discover for herself that they weren’t there.

  ‘Miles, do you have any idea where the deeds of the house might have got to?’ she said next day. ‘Your grandmother can’t find them, and she’s getting very upset.’

  It was true; the old lady was wandering round the house, searching endlessly in the same places, getting increasingly distressed.

  ‘The deeds? No idea at all. Why?’

  ‘Well, I have been talking to Dotty and we have decided that the house should be sold.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘We need the money, Miles. This house ain’t cheap to keep up. That’s a few thousand dollars, about eighty thousand I’m told, sitting there in California, and I could do with them. Or some of them. It might not have entered your idle head that you’ve been living here rent free for three years. I consider I have a right to some input.’

  He looked at her. Then he smiled, his most disarming smile. ‘Of course. You’re right. I couldn’t agree more. Don’t worry, Mrs Galbraith, I’ll find the deeds.’

  The bank manager was very nice, but firm. He couldn’t let Miles have the deeds back until he paid off the loan. There was the original four thousand dollars and then there was that other thousand he’d borrowed last year. Of course it wasn’t much set against the value of the house, but nonetheless, the deeds must stay with the bank.

  ‘But we want to sell the house.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right. Put it in the hands of a realtor. Nothing to stop you doing that.’

  ‘OK. Thanks.’

  ‘It’s OK, Mrs Galbraith,’ said Miles that afternoon as his grandmother slept. ‘I’ll see to selling the house. I guess it’s mine in a way and my responsibility.’

  ‘It is not,’ said Marcia, indignant on her friend’s behalf. ‘That house is your grandmother’s. She’s always said so. No, I’ll see to it, Miles. Just give me the deeds when you find them.’

  ‘I have found them, Mrs Galbraith. They’re with the bank.’

  ‘The bank! How did they get there?’

  ‘I guess Granny must have taken them there and forgotten. You know what she’s like these days.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know, Miles. I’ll ask her.’

  ‘No, don’t.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake why not?’

  ‘You know it upsets her when she realizes how vague she’s become. Let’s just leave them there, and I’ll go ahead and organize the sale. OK?’

  She looked at him doubtfully. ‘OK. Which bank?’

  ‘Oh, her bank, of course.’ He met her suspicious eyes with his wide, candid blue ones. ‘Does it matter?’

  Mrs Galbraith’s lawyer and Miles’ bank manager were members of the same golf club. Over just one too many bacardis one afternoon, the bank manager, knowing the connection with Marcia, remarked what nice manners young Wilburn had, and what a rare pleasure it was to find such a phenomenon these days. The lawyer agreed, and cited several examples of young men who had no manners at all, whereupon the bank manager went on, with extreme indiscretion, over yet another bacardi, that it had been a pleasure to be able to help young Mr Wilburn with a loan the year before, and asked his friend the lawyer what he thought, purely as a matter of interest, a house in Malibu, California, might be worth these days, as Miles was in the process of selling one. The lawyer said he had no idea and that he also had no idea that young Wilburn was a man of such substance; on Mrs Galbraith’s next visit to his office, he made the same observation. Marcia looked at him, her eyes deceptively innocent. ‘I always thought that house belonged to his grandmother. She’s a very frail, confused old lady. I know I shouldn’t be asking you this, but might it be possible to just check that the house really is in Miles’ name?’

  The lawyer hesitated. He didn’t like using a friendship. But two old ladies in distress surely needed help. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘Try not to worry.’

  He asked her to go down to his office three days later. ‘No, Mrs Galbraith, you’re wrong. Mrs Kelly has definitely signed a transfer deed, making the house over to Miles. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure. Can I help in any other way?’

  ‘Not for now. But thank you very much. You’ve been really kind.’ Marcia’s blood was up; she was enjoying herself.

  Later that day she asked her friend if she had ever thought of transferring the deeds of the house to Miles’ name.

  ‘Well of course not, Marcia,’ said Mrs Kelly, irritated out of her vagueness. ‘
How many times have I told you I would never let Miles get his hands on that house? He’d just waste the money away. If he’s ever going to get a proper job, he certainly can’t be handed several thousand dollars on a plate.’

  ‘No, Dotty,’ said Marcia. ‘He certainly can’t.’

  She went back to her lawyer. ‘Could you find out a little more?’ she said, ‘discreetly. I don’t want Miles suspecting anything.’

  The lawyer did.

  ‘I have to tell you, Mrs Galbraith,’ he said, ‘that boy seems to have been borrowing on that house. Five thousand dollars. Are you sure your friend doesn’t know anything about it?’

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘Well, the money’s been spent. Not much, of course, in view of what the house is worth, but it has, and if that signature was obtained unlawfully, then the boy could be in trouble.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Galbraith. ‘Well, thank you. I’ll let you know if there’s any more to be done.’

  Miles was in love. He had met her at the hotel, and she was just seventeen years old, with long, silvery blonde hair, huge blue eyes, and freckles dusted prettily on her tip-tilted little nose. Her breasts were tip-tilted too, just a little, and her legs were as long as a colt’s; she had a disposition as sunny as her hair, and her name was Candy, Candy McCall. She should have been in high school, but her father had taken her out for a bit; he thought it would be good for her to see a bit of the world. So far the world had consisted of Acapulco and Nassau. Candy wasn’t too impressed, but it was better than school. Candy’s father, Mason, was in confectionery, and was married to Candy’s fourth stepmother, Dolly; Candy hated her.

  They were staying in Nassau for a few weeks while Dolly played the roulette table, and got a tan, and Mason did some property deals.

  Until Candy had met Miles she had been frantic with boredom. Despite her virginal appearance she had had several boyfriends, most of whom had been granted the pleasures of her small, neat body; Miles, who had a sure instinct for anything to do with sex, recognized her experience, and her capacity for pleasure, instantly and easily.

  ‘Don’t give me that,’ he said good-naturedly when Candy squirmed under his exploring hands, pushing them gently, modestly away, ‘you know you want it as much as I do.’

  ‘I know nothing of the sort,’ she said, smiling up at him, her small freckled nose wrinkling, ‘I just am not that sort of girl.’

  ‘Show me what sort you are, then,’ said Miles. They were lying on a rug on Candy’s balcony, on the penthouse floor of the Bahamian, out of view of anyone except the most determined cat burglar. He stood up and pulled off his shorts. Candy looked up at him, his tall, golden body, his glorious face, his magical smile; then she knelt in front of him.

  ‘This sort,’ she said, and took his penis in her mouth with a gentle hunger.

  After that they were seldom apart.

  ‘Miles,’ said Marcia after breakfast one morning, ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Miles, sitting back in his chair and smiling at her. ‘Here I am.’

  ‘Not now. When your grandmother is asleep this afternoon.’

  He looked at her slightly warily. ‘I shall be working.’

  ‘Oh, I know how important your work is, Miles. Maybe just this once you could arrive a little late.’

  ‘Not very. I have a game booked at three.’

  ‘Fine. We’ll talk at two.’

  An odd unease gripped Miles; a shadow came over the sun. Even Candy’s company seemed a little drab.

  ‘What’s the matter, Miles?’

  ‘Nothing. Just a little worry.’

  ‘Let me take your mind off it.’

  But she couldn’t.

  That evening, after his afternoon’s games, she found him sitting drinking a beer, looking miserable.

  ‘Miles. Come on, tell me. You can. I won’t split on you. Or let you down. I might even be able to help.’

  He looked at her. ‘I don’t think you will. Unless you can give me five thousand dollars, I and I don’t think even that would make much difference.’

  ‘Well, tell me anyway. Oh, come on.’

  So he told her. That Mrs Galbraith had guessed what he had done; that she threatened to go to the police; that her lawyer knew too; that unless he repaid the money within a month, she would tell his grandmother and the bank. ‘I kept telling her I didn’t have any money, that I couldn’t pay it back. She just said I’d spent it in the first place, and it was my duty to put it back.’

  ‘She sounds batty.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘What about your grandmother?’

  ‘Oh, really, I think if she knew it would really send her right over the top. Poor old lady.’

  ‘You’re real fond of her, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s been very very good to me.’

  ‘Don’t you have anyone else in the world who could help?’

  ‘Nope. Not really.’

  ‘No relatives?’

  ‘Only an uncle. He doesn’t have any money.’

  ‘Could he get some?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Not without a terrible fuss.’

  ‘Well, who put you through college?’

  ‘Oh, some guy.’

  Candy looked at him and laughed. ‘Miles, what do you mean? What sort of guy?’

  ‘Oh, a creepy old guy. Friend of my parents.’

  ‘He sounds pretty nice to me. Creepy or not.’

  ‘Well, maybe. But I quarrelled with him. Pretty badly.’

  ‘I can’t imagine you quarrelling with anyone.’

  ‘No,’ he said, looking at her almost with surprise. ‘I never have before. Or since. Only with him.’

  ‘What did you quarrel about?’

  ‘Oh, he wanted me to get a job, and I thought I could work in his company. He said I couldn’t. He was lousy to me. I wouldn’t have any more to do with him.’

  ‘So you just said you’d never speak to him again, just because he wouldn’t give you a job.’ She looked at him amusedly. ‘You great spoilt baby.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t understand.’

  ‘I don’t see how I could.’

  Miles never got angry or defensive. ‘You couldn’t. Anyway, I haven’t been in touch with him for years.’

  ‘Maybe you should be now.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, maybe he could let you have the money.’

  ‘No,’ said Miles. ‘No, I couldn’t go begging to him. I’d rather go to jail.’

  Candy shrugged. ‘OK. Suit yourself. I hear the Nassau jails are pretty unpleasant. Come on, let’s go upstairs. Dolly will be up from the beach soon. I don’t want her to see you.’

  ‘Why not? I like older women.’

  ‘Ugh!’

  That night Miles sat in his room in Marcia’s house, thinking. Whichever way he turned, there was no escape. He thought of running away, back to the beach, but they would know exactly where to look for him. He wondered if he should go somewhere else, up to Miami, he could work there in the hotels; but then, they would find him there too. Mrs Galbraith wouldn’t give up, he knew.

  And even if she did, he didn’t want to leave his grandmother alone with her. At least not until he had this thing settled. He felt she needed him.

  ‘Granny, I want to talk to you.’

  It was tea time, and her mind was at its clearest.

  ‘Yes, Miles.’

  ‘Granny, I want to write to Hugo.’

  ‘Oh, Miles. That is real good news. Whatever’s brought that on? Though why he should want to hear from you now I can’t imagine.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to do what he says, I think. Tell him I’m going to get a proper job. I thought he’d be pleased. I guess I owe it to him, after what he did for me, putting me through college and everything.’

  Mrs Kelly shot him a shrewd glance. ‘This is mighty sudden, Miles.’

  His face was totally open. ‘I know. But I guess I finally realized I can’t go on
playing tennis for ever.’

  ‘Playing tennis? I thought you were working at the casino.’

  ‘Yeah, well, a bit of both.’

  She sighed. ‘I surely would like to see you settled. And so would Mr Dashwood. What are you thinking of doing?’

  ‘Oh, banking I guess. I thought I’d go up to Miami or something. I could still come down and see you regularly. It isn’t far.’

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I certainly would miss you. But it would make me real happy.’

  ‘Good. So could I have Mr Dashwood’s address?’

  ‘Well, I only have the one in New York. Not in England. We never had one. I’ll get it for you. Wait there.’ She paused. ‘You’re not going to try asking him for a job again, are you, Miles?’

  ‘No, Granny, I swear I’m not.’

  ‘Good. Because you’ll just open up old wounds, that’s all.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It’s funny,’ she said, ‘we never heard from him. He promised to write, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ said Miles. ‘He was a pretty strange guy.’

  He wrote the letter. It was scary. He waited. He didn’t have long. Mrs Galbraith was mercifully a little vague about time. But her lawyer wouldn’t be. April came. He began to feel frightened. He had written to several banks in Miami. They mostly wrote regretfully polite ones back, telling him he was a little old for a trainee. Two asked him to come for an interview. He couldn’t afford to go, so he wrote polite letters, stalling. One of them wrote back and told him to forget it.

  Candy was leaving soon. Dolly was bored, and Mason’s deals were nearly done.

  Mrs Galbraith stopped him in the hall one day and told him she hadn’t forgotten their conversation. Miles didn’t dare antagonize her further. He smiled his most charming smile. ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Galbraith, I’ll get the money very soon. Please have faith in me.’

  ‘Even if I did, Miles, I’m afraid my lawyer hasn’t.’

  Finally, a letter came.

  Dear Miles,

  I was absolutely delighted to get your letter. It seems a very long time since we met, and I do assure you I have missed you. You were an important element in my life for a long time, and it was a considerable loss. (Creep, thought Miles.)