by Anne Douglas
‘That was truly delicious,’ Roz told him when they were out in the warmth of the fine July evening. ‘Thank you very much, Laurence.’
‘My pleasure, Roz.’
‘I just feel …’ She stopped and he bent to look into her face.
‘Feel what? Don’t tell me, I can guess. If I’ve been giving you the impression that I can’t afford a decent dinner, that’s not true. Refurbishing Bellfields from top to bottom is one thing. Affording a dinner is quite another.’ He took her arm and tucked it into his. ‘Now, it’s a fine night. The car’s quite close but I was thinking we could drive to the Meadows and walk a bit, couldn’t we? Before I take you home?’
The Meadows. Another reminder of Jamie. His flat had been in that area.
‘Good idea,’ she said swiftly. ‘Let’s do that.’
Though the children had left the Meadows, there were still plenty of people about, walking, playing ball games, enjoying the summer evening. Roz and Laurence were enjoying it too.
‘The perfect end to a perfect evening,’ Laurence remarked. ‘Our first time out together has been terrific – don’t you think so, Roz?’
‘It’s been lovely, Laurence …’ She hesitated.
‘Hey!’ He stopped and turned her to face him. ‘Do I detect a “but” in there somewhere?’
‘Well, you said our first time out together was terrific—’
‘So? It was, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t really think there should be any more times. Together, I mean.’
‘No more times together?’ His look was baffled, almost stunned; it was clear he’d never for a moment expected her not to want to see him again. ‘Why do you say that, Roz? If you’re happy being with me, why not want to see me again?’
‘It’s not that I don’t want to see you, Laurence. It’s just that – well, for a start, you’re a client. It’s not really the thing, is it? For us to go out together?’
‘Oh, come on! Are you telling me anyone’s going to object? Why should they?’
‘Mr Banks can be a stickler for, you know, doing the right thing.’
‘Well, we’re not doing the wrong thing, in my view. I’ve a perfect right to ask you to dinner, and you’ve a perfect right to say yes. If that’s all that’s worrying you, we can forget it.’ He gently held her shoulders, his gaze seeking hers. ‘But you said for a start, didn’t you? Is there something else troubling you?’
She looked away, desperately watching some young men in the distance packing up their cricket stumps, for the fact was she didn’t know what to say. How was she to put into words what the problem was? How to explain what he should be able to see for himself?
‘So, there is something else,’ he said softly, releasing her. ‘Look, there’s a vacant bench over there – let’s sit down for a minute and knock this thing on the head once and for all.’
Sitting close on the bench, he took her hands in his. ‘I think I know what it’s about, and it’s to do with Bellfields, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘You won’t go out with me because I live in a place like Bellfields, and you don’t?’
‘That’s a funny way of putting it.’
‘It’s true, though, isn’t it? The point is it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter where either of us live, or who we are, or what we do, if we’re attracted to each other and want to meet. If we enjoy being together, why shouldn’t we be just that?’
‘You make it sound so easy, but people don’t live in a vacuum, do they?’ Roz shook her head. ‘Look, I’m going to be very honest, Laurence. Going out with someone can lead to a relationship and I don’t want one. I’ve been hurt once and I don’t want to be hurt again.’
‘And you think I would hurt you? Roz, that would never happen. Trust me, it wouldn’t.’ He made her look at him, meet his eyes that were so sincere. ‘Please believe me.’
‘I believe you wouldn’t want to, but things might be too difficult for you if we went any further.’ Roz stood up, glancing at her wrist watch. ‘I think we’d better go back now, Laurence. It’s getting late.’
After a long pause, he sighed and turned to go. ‘As you wish,’ he said quietly and, without speaking again, they returned to the car.
Forty-Seven
It was only when they were back in Deller Street again, with welcome dusk enfolding them, that Laurence stopped the car and turned to speak to Roz.
‘I’ve no right to ask, but this chap who hurt you – who was he? What sort of an idiot was he?’
‘He wasn’t an idiot. He did love me, but I don’t want to go into it. He let me down – and someone else too. I couldn’t trust him.’
‘You can always trust me.’
She smiled sadly. ‘I know you’d want to do the right thing.’
‘Well, then!’ He took her hand. ‘But I hate to think of you being hurt. I know what it’s like.’
‘Laurence!’ She sat up straight. ‘I never thought – who could have hurt you?’
‘Oh, it was some time ago. We were almost engaged, Meriel and I – until she said I cared too much about Bellfields.’
‘Cared too much for Bellfields? I can’t believe anyone could say that!’
‘Well, it didn’t interest her, you see. Her family has several properties and to her they’re just places to live. They’re not important. So, we said goodbye.’ Laurence smoothed Roz’s fingers. ‘No need to worry, I’ve quite forgotten her now. Have you forgotten your chap?’
‘Oh, yes.’ It was true, she was well over him.
‘But you haven’t forgotten the pain. Roz, there won’t be any with me, I promise.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Look, won’t you reconsider – about seeing me again? I do want so much to be with you. Ever since we met in that café in Kirkcudbright, I’ve hardly stopped thinking of you. I kept wondering how I could see you at Tarrel’s, and then it came to me – you worked in property, so when I put Bellfields on the market, which I knew I had to do, I guessed you’d come to the house, which, thank God, you did.’
He let go of her hands and drew her towards him, holding her lightly, then releasing her again.
‘It seemed like the answer to a prayer. We could meet naturally, I could ask you to see me, it was exactly what I wanted – what we both wanted, I believed. You can’t really mean I was wrong, can you? You can’t say you don’t want to see me again? Not now we’ve found each other?’
It was beginning to seem to her more and more like one of her dreams, that this man, the owner of a dream house like Bellfields, had somehow become dependent on her – had, you might say, put himself in her power, which was not something she could ever have expected, or even wanted. How had they reached this stage so soon? Was he really in love with her? She couldn’t help feeling touched by his words, by the depth of the feeling he’d expressed for her when they’d only just met, when he didn’t even really know her.
Perhaps he didn’t need to know her? Had she really known Jamie when she’d found herself so drawn to him? Events had proved that she hadn’t known him at all, yet the strange thing was that though she didn’t really know Laurence, she really felt that she could trust him. He’d said she could, and she believed him. And if, as yet, her own feelings might not match his, they might – probably would, in fact – if she gave into them. And for now? She felt herself weakening, all the resolve she’d thought she had drifting away on a cloud of longing to please him, to make him happy – herself too.
‘Don’t turn me down,’ he was saying, his face close to hers. ‘Don’t end things for us before they’ve even begun …’
‘I don’t want to,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t, it’s just …’
‘Just nothing!’ he cried, taking her into his arms. ‘Roz, be happy! Let’s both be happy! Let’s take what comes – why not? Is it dark enough for me to kiss you? Are you afraid people might see?’
‘No, no!’ She was still up on her cloud as their mouths met, and for long moments they clung together bef
ore finally drawing apart and facing each other with shining eyes.
‘I’ll ring you,’ Laurence said. ‘Soon. Very soon.’
‘I’ll be waiting.’
‘I was thinking we might go to a play. There’s a good one at the King’s. You’d like that?’
‘I would.’
They were silent for some time, until Laurence leaped out and opened the car door for her. As she stepped out, he put his hand on her arm.
‘Roz, thank you.’
‘Thank you, for a lovely evening.’
‘Was it this evening we had dinner? Seems a long time ago.’
They laughed, and finally, reluctantly, parted – Roz to go to her door, Laurence to watch as she stood and waved, before taking his seat in the car again and with a last lift of his hand, drove away.
‘You’re back, then?’ cried Flo, when Roz appeared in the living room. ‘I was just going to bed. You’re even later than Chrissie.’
‘Sorry. We went for a walk in the Meadows after dinner.’
‘Nice meal?’ asked Chrissie. ‘Which restaurant was it?’
‘Duthie’s, off Forrest Row.’
‘Oh, pricey! Top quality Scottish, eh?’
‘It was certainly very good.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Flo. ‘Seeing as it was a once-only thing.’
There was a silence as Flo’s pale eyes went over Roz’s face and Chrissie gave a knowing smile.
‘Was it?’ Chrissie asked.
‘No,’ Roz answered, looking bravely from her sister to her mother. ‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘I knew it!’ cried Flo. ‘I knew you’d never say no!’
‘I’m keeping my eyes wide open,’ said Roz. ‘I’ll be all right, Ma, I promise. Now don’t be down-hearted, I mean it.’
‘After all you said! It’s just friendly, nothing romantic, it’s not going to lead to anything, just this once – why did I listen to you?’
‘Ma, just believe me. I trust Laurence, I’m going to be all right.’
‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Flo. ‘Oh, dear, oh dear.’
‘Don’t be down about it, Ma. Promise me! Think of me being happy, eh?’
‘If only I could. Chrissie, give me a hand to bed, will you?’
‘Yes, Ma.’ Chrissie, catching Roz’s eye with a sympathetic glance, went with her mother from the room, leaving Roz to sigh as deeply as Flo before a smile curved her lips and she sat on, lost in remembering. She should have felt bad, giving in as she had, but in fact she felt good. ‘Be happy,’ Laurence had said. ‘Let’s take what comes – why not?’ Why not, indeed? OK, she’d said she didn’t want to risk being hurt again, but she’d changed her mind. Now she was prepared to take any risk there might be, and if the worst happened, it happened. But there’d be no regrets. That was a promise she’d make to herself. No regrets.
Forty-Eight
Everyone agreed that Tarrel’s Bellfields brochure, produced by Angus Appin and Reggie MacEwan, was a great success – a triumph, no less, with much interest being shown by prospective buyers who’d received it after following up advertisements. There’d even been enquiries from over the border, and as the requests for viewing came flooding in Mr Banks expressed himself well pleased, which, if it didn’t surprise Reggie, smoothed the worried frown from Angus’s brow. The only person who didn’t seem happy was the owner, whose spirits grew ever lower the more likely it seemed that there might soon be a sale.
‘Laurence, I know you don’t want to sell,’ Roz told him over one of their frequent dinners, ‘but if it has to happen, at least you should get a good price. I mean, Angus and Reggie did such a wonderful job – a lot of people have been attracted and that’s sure to bring in the offers.’
‘Oh, I know,’ he said, drinking wine despondently. ‘I know I should be grateful to the chaps. Reggie’s photographs were amazing – how he managed to make everything look so perfect, I can’t think. And Mr Appin’s write-up was excellent. Even got in a bit about my family history, did you notice?’
‘Certainly did. I was really interested.’
Roz paused to reflect on what she’d learned about those early Carmichaels, wealthy Edinburgh merchants who’d built a fine country house on the site of the present Bellfields, only to see it burn down and require re-building in the eighteenth century – this at the same time as they’d lost most of their money in the South Sea Bubble trading disaster. They hadn’t given in, though – they’d held on to the new house and handed it down to their descendants, even if with little capital, who in turn had kept it going until Laurence had made the decision to sell.
‘I don’t like talking about my family much,’ he told Roz. ‘It brings it home to me that I’m the one who’s let them down. There never was much money around – I think you know that the land had to be sold, which meant that there were no rents coming in, but everyone before me kept Bellfields afloat. Now it’s going and I’m responsible. Don’t expect me to be happy about it.’
‘You have to remember that you had no choice!’ cried Roz. ‘Things aren’t the same for you as for your ancestors. You need staff to maintain Bellfields and in the old days workers were cheap. Now – and I’m glad of it – they expect better, which means it’s just too much for you to hang on any longer.’
She covered his hand with hers and held his eyes with her own direct gaze. ‘Don’t blame yourself, Laurence. You’ve done all you could. Try to think of that.’
His look still moody, he shook his head. ‘I bet if the house had been yours, you’d never have given it up, would you? You’re a fighter, aren’t you? You’d have kept it even if you were living on beans on toast and doing all the work yourself. Come on, admit it!’
‘How can I say what I would have done? Maybe, like you, I’d have had to sell in the end.’ Roz lowered her eyes. ‘But it would have broken my heart.’
‘Now you know how I feel, Roz.’
‘Laurence, I’ve always known how you feel. About Bellfields, anyway.’
The wonderful thing was that they were so happy together. In the long days of August, when possible buyers were still going round Bellfields, they met often, for meals, for theatre visits, shows at the festival, or long walks on Sundays, always ready to kiss and caress when they could, longing sometimes to progress but never quite going so far. Even in the privacy of Bellfields, where Laurence liked Roz to come, they kept on the safe side of passion – especially as Roz was always nervous when visiting the house privately, conscious that the housekeeper, Mrs Meldrum, didn’t approve, though showing it, of course, only by her manner and never by words.
Why should I care? Roz asked herself. No reason, of course, but she did care. Not that there was anything she could do about it, any more than she could persuade her mother to meet Laurence, either in her home or anywhere else.
‘No, I’ll wait till I’m feeling happier,’ Flo told Roz. ‘Till I believe you’re going to be all right with this grand fellow. Time enough to meet him then.’
‘Ma, I tell you I am all right!’ Roz would cry, but Flo would only set her mouth and look away, and Roz knew it was useless to say any more.
‘She’s got a lot on her plate,’ Chrissie told her. ‘Worrying about Dougal, eh? Seems so long since we saw him. He does get leave now and then but only over there.’
‘I know, and of course in his letters he makes out he’s fine, but who knows?’ Roz sighed heavily. ‘You’re right, I shouldn’t try to pressure Ma into anything, just in case.’
‘She’s been OK lately. Maybe she’s getting better?’
‘Maybe. And maybe not.’
Meanwhile, it gradually became apparent that the supply of prospective buyers was drying up, and that of all those who had so far been shown round Bellfields by Angus or Roz, not one had even expressed interest to a lawyer, never mind making a genuine offer.
‘I don’t understand it,’ Angus said worriedly to Roz. ‘I know some will have been put off by what’s to be done, but you’d have thought that out of all the
droves we took round Bellfields somebody would have wanted it!’
‘It’s disappointing,’ Roz agreed. ‘Though Laurence isn’t too worried.’
‘You’d know, of course,’ Angus said, giving her a shrewd look.
He was one of two people at Tarrel’s who’d been told by Roz that she was going out with Laurence, the other being Norma. Best to put them in the picture from the beginning, Roz had decided, for in some ways it would be easier not to hide things from the two who knew her best, and both could be trusted not to say anything to Mr Banks. Really, she would have preferred to have no secrets at all after her early experiences with Jamie, but it might be better if Mr Banks didn’t know just yet of her relationship with a client.
Norma, so much wrapped up in her own love life, had opened her eyes wide at Roz’s surprising news, but had commented very little, and Angus had simply told her that it was her business and hers alone. He couldn’t see any harm, if she was happy about it.
‘Of course I’m happy!’ Roz had cried, and he’d nodded and said no more.
Now, when she smiled but said nothing about Laurence, Angus remarked, as he’d done before, that Laurence Carmichael was one of the strangest clients he’d ever known. What seller didn’t want any buyers?
‘One who wants to keep his house for himself,’ Roz told him.
Forty-Nine
At last, on a golden day in September, things began to look a little more hopeful when a Mr and Mrs Elphick, who’d made an appointment for a viewing, arrived at Tarrel’s and appeared very excited about Bellfields. They were from Perth, looking for a property near Edinburgh to convert into a hotel, this being their way of investing a recent inheritance, and from the brochure which they’d only just read Bellfields seemed to fit the bill. Now they were to be taken by Roz to see it and couldn’t be more keen.
Fingers crossed, her eyes had said to Angus as she escorted the middle-aged, smartly dressed couple to the car, and fingers crossed was his unspoken reply as she drove away. They had a splendid afternoon for viewing, that was true, just as long as the sunshine didn’t show up all the defects, of course. But one must look on the bright side, Angus decided – Roz was now so expert at showing buyers round, she knew exactly how to present the house to its best advantage.
