My clothes had arrived from London by now, so I was suitably enough turned out in a comfortable dress and low-heeled walking shoes. My short lambskin coat kept me warm. Ian, again wearing a tweed jacket and grey slacks, seemed not to notice the cold. He strode forward, the wind jostling his dark hair and whipping out his tie in a flapping streamer.
Soon we had climbed high enough to look right down on the village nestling snugly in its fold of the hills.
‘I just love this countryside,’ I said. ‘There’s a grandeur about it, yet it’s intimate too.’
Ian nodded. ‘I know what you mean. It seems a bit isolated at first, but not when you get to know it.’
‘I should have thought you might find it rather tame after Scotland,’ I said. ‘Compared with all those bleak moors and mountains and lochs.’
He seemed amused. ‘The whole of Scotland isn’t like that, you know. I was born in a rather dreary suburb of Glasgow. The only time I saw the Highlands was during our holidays, but even then we came to England as often as not.’
‘So your father wasn’t a laird? I thought all Scottish fathers were.’ I was joking, of course, but at the same time it was a bit of a let-down to find his background wasn’t as colourful as I had somehow imagined. He looked just the type to stride the patriarchal heather with swirling kilt.
‘A laird?’ He laughed. ‘Sorry to have to spoil such a nice idea. My father’s dead now, but he used to own a small printing works.’
‘And your mother? Is she still alive?’
‘No, she died when I was a child. I have an elder sister who played quite a part in rearing me. She’s married with three children. I visit her now and again for a weekend—they have a house in Surrey.’
Busily I made the necessary adjustments. I tried to imagine Ian as an uncle, but I was short of data. ‘What ages are your sister’s children?’
‘Alison has twin boys of nine, and a four-year-old girl with pigtails and freckles. She’s rather sweet.’
He talked naturally and easily. If his words destroyed my mental images, his present manner made it difficult to remember his surliness, the extreme rudeness of earlier meetings. Yet that I had not imagined. Although he was ready to tell me what I wanted to know, I found I had to prompt him with questions. He wasn’t the sort of man so full of himself that he could think of no better subject for conversation. I noticed, though, that he showed remarkably little curiosity about me. I couldn’t help feeling piqued about this.
We had walked down the other side of the hill and followed a path which ran beside a stream. Where the two met at a little stone bridge, we stopped for a few minutes, leaning on the parapet, watching the clear bustling water.
‘Ian...?’ I said, and stopped.
His elbows resting on the stone ledge, he turned his head to look at me.
‘Yes, Dulcie?’
‘I ... I realize you can’t possibly commit yourself at this stage, but can you tell me if you have any plans for the future? I mean, are you thinking of sticking with Drysdale Pharmaceuticals?’
I felt awkward asking such a direct question, but this was an opportunity that might not occur again. ‘You see, I’m thinking very seriously of staying on to help run the business, but my final decision rather depends on you. I know perfectly well how much the laboratory leans on you scientifically, so it’s important to know if you intend staying.’
He was silent for a long time before replying. What he said was not very satisfactory.
‘I’m afraid I can’t commit myself indefinitely.’ He looked away from me, down at the water again. ‘Whether I stay or not depends on ... a lot of things.’
It was the way he said it that made me sure his hesitation was because of a woman. Was he trying to make up his mind whether to marry Gillian Hayes?
Ian had picked up some tiny loose flakes of stone from the coping, and was dropping them one by one into the stream.
‘I can promise you this much.’ he said, as if it was a new thought. ‘I won’t leave you in the lurch. I mean, I won’t push off without giving you time to find a suitable replacement.’
That was a relief at any rate.
We started to walk again. Jenner was running among the trees, and we followed him. Heavy rain in the night had made the leaves underfoot wet and slippery, and several times my rubber heels began to slide. When I nearly pitched headlong, Ian caught my elbow. In trying to save me from falling, he pulled me round so that I was in his arms.
He didn’t let go. For several seconds we stood frozen like that. I knew he was going to kiss me. My heart was pounding as I waited, quite still, not daring to move.
Then suddenly his arms were gone and he was standing away from me. ‘I think we’d better stick to the path,’ he said abruptly, looking at the ground, avoiding my eyes. ‘It should be less slippery.’
It was mortifying. We both knew perfectly well what had nearly happened. My humiliation went all the deeper because I’d wanted him to kiss me. I’d let him know I’d wanted him, and yet he had turned away. It had been his decision.
We hadn’t far to walk back to the house. We trudged along in a heavy silence, not even trying to make conversation. I don’t remember seeing the sun again all day.
Mrs. Truscott pretended not to notice anything, though I’m convinced she had a pretty shrewd idea of how things stood between us. It took all her skill to relax the tension enough to get us talking again.
It had been on my mind to ask her if she would like to choose something from Father’s possessions as a personal memento of their friendship. I had an idea it would please her.
I was right. When I mentioned it over tea her monkey-ugly face split in a delighted smile. ‘How sweet of you, Dulcie, to think of it.’
She didn’t hesitate about what to pick. ‘The cut-glass ink-stand on Eliot’s desk,’ she said. ‘He used it every day, you know—he was old-fashioned enough to insist on a dip pen. I used to tease him about it.’
This started her off talking about Father’s idiosyncrasies. He’d had a lot, and she recalled them with affection.
‘Except for his science, poor Eliot lived in the past. The present meant little enough to him. It was understandable, I suppose….’
I said quickly, ‘Yet it could so easily have been different for him.’
Ian had been listening without speaking, so his sudden contribution was unexpected. ‘It wasn’t his fault that life lacked fulfilment.’
I glanced up at him in surprise, but he was looking steadily out of the window.
Apparently Ruth Truscott hadn’t noticed the interjection. She was musing. ‘I don’t mean Eliot was really unhappy, of course. He had reached a degree of contentment. His life was very placid on the whole. Such a pity it should have been marred like that at the end…’
‘Like what?’ I cut in. Then realizing I had sounded rude, I amended. ‘Was there something wrong, Mrs. Truscott?’
‘There must have been. When he spoke to me on the telephone the day before he died, he was terribly agitated.’
“But I didn’t know this,’ I said. ‘What was it all about?’
‘I’m not sure. I got the impression it was connected with the firm in some way or other.’
Too late I realized where we were heading. This was delicate ground. I didn’t want a discussion of Ian’s quarrel with my father right now.
But apparently Ian himself wasn’t troubled with such qualms. He had swung round in his chair to look directly at Ruth Truscott, suddenly alert. ‘Did he give you any clue at all? I ... I didn’t see much of Dr. Drysdale myself those last few days.’
‘No, not really.’ The elderly woman looked from one to the other of us, concerned, trying to be helpful. "I did wonder at the time if perhaps....’
‘Yes?’ Ian prompted her.
She gave a half-smile, as if to excuse her wild imaginings. ‘Well, it could just possibly have been the same sort of thing that happened a few years ago.’
Ian was gently persistent. �
�And what was that, Mrs. Truscott?’
She bit her lip. ‘The trouble is, I don’t know the details. It was when Eliot was still working on research, before MJ71 was anything like perfected. He was always trying out new experiments, varying the procedure. You know the sort of thing, Ian?’
‘Yes indeed. I still do that, to some extent.’
‘I remember Eliot phoning one afternoon. He was dreadfully upset, and wanted to come over to see Charles right away. That in itself was unusual, for even in those days Sunday was his time for visiting us. He arrived as soon as Charles’s evening surgery was over, and the two of them were talking together until quite late.’
Ian asked, ‘And what was it all about?’
‘I wish I could tell you. I was in and out of the room, you see, and anyway, I was never interested in their technicalities. Charles did explain to me afterwards, but I had a strong feeling that he didn’t tell me everything. It was to do with an experiment that had gone wrong,’
I sat there quite still, sensing Ian’s sharp attention. He seemed to be willing Mrs. Truscott to remember.
‘It was something to do with steeping the dried herbs in a solution of …. some sort of chemical, I can’t recall what it was, then when they were dried again afterwards, Eliot found that a most curious change had taken place. He was terribly worried that whatever it was might fall into the wrong hands. I can still remember him crying out, “But it’s so damned simple, Charles, so incredibly simple. Any fool could do it, if he only knew the method”.’
Ian leaned forward in his chair, his face paling. ‘Did you hear anything more?’
‘No, nothing.’ She spread her hands helplessly. ‘I’m sorry, Ian.’
‘You needn’t be, Mrs. Truscott. I think you’ve told me enough already. Certainly enough to get to work on. My God, if it’s what I think it is...."
‘What’s that?’ I asked, in some alarm. ‘Tell me!’
‘I’m not going to say anything for the moment. I’ve got to think about it."
I pressed him, but he was as close as a clam.
I didn’t see him alone again that day. When we left, we each had our own car. Ian went by a direct route to Lechford, so we even took different roads.
Chapter Eleven
The summer weather returned, and two days passed in deceptive tranquility. There might never have been any trouble, any sinister suspicions at the Drysdale Laboratories for all it showed on the surface.
I was hardly seeing anything of Ian. It was obvious he was avoiding me deliberately. After what had happened on our walk, it cost me a lot to seek him out, but I had to know what was happening about the thefts.
He was very abrupt. ‘I told you I’d let you know when I had any news.’
‘Sure you did—back at the weekend.’
‘Good heavens, you’ll need more patience than that. This business must have been going on for a long time. We can’t expect to put a stop to it in a couple of days.’
‘Don’t you think we ought to tell the police, and let them handle it?’
‘Certainly not,’ he snapped back at me. ‘We want to keep the police from poking around here.’
‘But I don’t get it...'
‘Believe me, I know what I’m saying.’
Damn the man for his stubbornness!
‘Surely,’ I urged, ‘there must be some little thing I could be doing to help?’
‘There’s nothing—except that I advise you not to come in here too often. It might just possibly arouse suspicions.’
‘Whose suspicions?’
‘That’s what I don’t yet know for certain.’
‘And you won’t even tell me who you think it is?’
‘No, not for the moment. It would be nothing more than guesswork. The first thing to do with a theory is to find supporting evidence.’
The scientist coming out again! I began to doubt there was another side to him after all. Ian Hamilton was getting to be very hard to take.
He launched into a lecture on ethics.
‘We mustn’t lose sight of the prime duty of this firm, which is to manufacture MJ71. An awful lot of poor devils out East depend on us for their supplies—there’s no other source in the world. Above everything else we must ensure that production goes on normally. We can’t risk having the police snooping around.’
‘I guess you’re right.’ I felt depressed because we seemed to be getting nowhere fast. ‘But what about enlisting Max’s help? At least he’d bring a new way of looking at things.’
‘What does Tyler know about the firm?’ Ian was contemptuous. ‘As far as I can see, sweet damn all. He’s good at talking, though. No, the fewer people who know anything about these thefts the better.’
‘Oh, have it your own way,’ I snarled angrily, and walked out on him.
It looked to me as if he was loving the drama of the whole thing, with himself playing the lead. Was that why he wouldn’t take me into his confidence? But no—Ian Hamilton just didn’t want to have anything more to do with me than he was obliged to. The kiss that never happened was a barrier between us.
It was only three or four yards back to my own office. I made straight for it, and slammed the door viciously—it relieved my temper. The lock didn’t catch, and the door swung back on its hinges again.
‘Hi there, beautiful! What’s the paddywack all about?’ I faced round to see George Leeson impudently sitting at my desk, smoking a cigarette. He was leaning back negligently, making himself thoroughly at home.
‘What do you want?’ I asked coldly.
He got up and came round the desk towards me. ‘Need you ask?’ he said softly.
‘Now look here, George, I’m busy. So if there’s nothing special, will you please go?’
‘Why do you have to be like that, honey?’ His voice was throaty, a voluptuous caress. ‘If you give me a chance, I’ll show you just how much of a man I am.’
‘Will you behave yourself?’ I snapped at him. ‘I won’t have you talking to me like that ... and with the door wide open, too...!’
But George Leeson just laughed and patted my shoulder. ‘Why darling, are you afraid someone might see us?’ He went across and pushed the door to. Just as it closed, I caught a glimpse of a white coat passing.
‘You fool,’ I cried furiously. I rushed past him and wrenched the office door open again. ‘There was somebody in the corridor then. Now just you get out, and don’t come in here again unless you’re sent for.’
‘My my, aren’t we throwing our weight around. Of course, you frigid women are all the same—you run a mile when a real man shows up.’
‘Will you get out of here?’
He took a last drag at his cigarette and ground it out into the ash-tray, deliberately and insultingly taking his time about it.
‘Don’t think I’ll forget this in a hurry, Miss Hoity-Toity,’ he said as he lounged out.
Not long after, a rap on the door startled me. Ian Hamilton walked straight in, his face dark with fury. I felt very small as he towered above the desk, but I barked bravely just to keep my end up.
‘And what do you want?’
He glared down at me. ‘You idiot. You really ought to have more sense.’
‘What ... what have I done?’
‘With that lecherous swine Leeson,’ he stormed. ‘I don’t care a damn what you do with yourself out of the office, but for God’s sake keep your sordid little affairs away from here.’
I started to protest, but he cut straight through me.
‘What the devil do you imagine the effect on the staff would be if you were seen? If you intend taking a hand in management, you’ve got a hell of a lot to learn.’
I burst out, ‘There was nothing to see. Leeson made a fool of himself, that’s all.’
‘Leeson made a fool of himself. I like that. Don’t you realize you’re playing with fire...?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I can handle his sort....’
‘His sort? What do you know about him?
If I were to tell you...’
‘If you were to tell me what? Are you making some specific accusation against the man?’
All at once Ian became very subdued. ‘You asked me earlier just who it was I suspected of these thefts....'
‘Do you mean to say...?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, it’s Leeson. I’m pretty sure of it.’ A spark of his anger came back. ‘But for God’s sake don’t go blabbing about it to all and sundry. Keep your mouth shut.’
With that he upped and left me. No explanation, no discussion, no apology. He just walked out.
When Max popped his head round the door later on, I smiled in relief. The sight of his cheery face brought a reassuring normality to this crazy morning.
‘How did the London trip go?’ I asked him, leaning back in my chair.
‘Bang on.’ He winked. ‘And it was only the thought of the lovely Dulcie slaving away here that brought me back so soon.’
‘I’ll bet,’ I scoffed.
He came right in and perched himself comfortably on a corner of my desk.
‘Now then,’ he said, settling for a chat, ‘how’s it been going?’
Sitting there, he looked so solid, so friendly, that I couldn’t help spilling out some of my troubles. Max’s shoulder wasn’t the kind for crying on, but I thought maybe it would help just to talk to him.
I told him about the scene with George Leeson. Max looked uneasy. I’d set him a problem, and the poor man didn’t like problems.
'Look here,’ he muttered, ‘I’d better have a word with Leeson, if he’s getting too fresh....’
‘No no, let it go. We don’t want him getting uppity and walking out on us. Anyway, I don’t reckon he’ll try it on me again.’
In an exasperated sort of way, it tickled me to see the clouds evaporate from Max’s face. His sunny smile shone out again.
‘You must come and have dinner with me, Dulcie. It’s high time you had a night out.’
‘Now Max, you don’t have to try so hard to cheer me up.’
‘You think too well of me,’ he snorted. ‘If I ask you out, it’s for my own sake because I want the pleasure of your company.’
A Cotswolds Legacy Page 10
