The room was brightly lit, the curtains back, the Gordon Highlanders were away with A Hundred Pipers And A’, Kelly was singing, Maggie was making an about turn—and the doorbell rang. It was a firm ring, polite but firm. Her heart leaped despairingly to the person nearest at hand. Oh no! She groaned, and opened the door.
If it wasn’t ‘hornie’ himself, it was the next best thing—a somewhat surprising Graham in a deep green track suit.
‘Good evening, Miss Campbell. Is it convenient to call?’
The tone was so composed that Maggie clamped down on her amusement.
‘Of course, Graham, come in.’
‘You’ve been—’ she halted.
‘Training,’ he filled in. ‘I’m trying to get on the team.’ It explained the pink in his cheeks. Indeed, if her first thoughts had been gently derisive, her second ones were admiring. He was a handsome lad and the striped muffler tucked into the zippered jacket gave him quite a dash.
But like his father he missed nothing. She saw his eyes embrace Kelly’s beaker of cocoa, the biscuit she had not eaten, the comics lying on the rug and the half-solved jigsaw puzzle.
‘Don’t look at the mess—as if you could do anything else!’ she joked, and cut off a hundred pipers in the flower of their youth.
‘Oh, please, it’s all right, I like it,’ Graham protested politely. ‘Anyway, I’ve only come for a minute. It’s about your niece. You see, I babysit, if you’re interested.’
Again Maggie had hard work not to laugh.
‘Usual rates,’ the applicant proceeded. ‘I think you’ll find me very reliable. I can, of course, provide references if you need them.’
From the hearthrug Kelly, scarlet-cheeked, shook her head frantically from side to side.
‘How old are you, Graham?’ Maggie asked gently.
‘Eleven, but I don’t have to go to bed early. And lots of people use me. If you’d like to check. I’m trying to raise enough money to go to Norway. There’s a party going from school at Easter.’
‘I’d have to think about it,’ Maggie temporised. ‘But if I did how about tomorrow lunchtime?’
Kelly’s head shook furiously.
‘Tomorrow would suit very well,’ Graham stated. ‘And she will be perfectly safe. It’s all right,’ he added, looking at I Kelly. ‘You don’t have to talk to me. I’ll bring some books for you to look at.’
He seemed to have it all settled. In Maggie’s mind it was still far from that, but next morning, quite unexpectedly, Kelly announced that she had decided to stay with Graham.
Maggie went over to clinch the deal and was interviewed not by the contractor but by the contractor’s father.
She had been knocking fruitlessly on the front door when he appeared round the corner driving a garden tractor which was hauling bags of cement. He stared at her for a moment and then pulled up, jumped down and came over.
‘Hallo there. I didn’t recognise you.’
His eyes seemed to study her changed appearance—shirtwaist dress in a mostly pink Persian print, red shoes, white-gold hair brushed back and clasped in black velvet. Nothing to set the Thames on fire, but it was the first time he had seen her out of trousers.
‘As a matter of fact I didn’t recognise you!’ she rejoined. That wasn’t surprising either. He had dungarees over a petrol blue cardigan and a pipe between his lips. He looked quite ordinary and rather pleasant. ‘I’m attempting a bit of landscaping. We need a terrace and steps. What can I do for you? Oh yes,’ he said seriously when she’d explained. ‘He’ll be delighted. And you needn’t worry. He’s an old hand at this, and anyway I’ll be here.’
‘He told me he was saving up for a trip to Norway.’ The fact had interested her.
‘That’s right. His own idea. He wants to do it himself.’ Pride underlay the levity in his tone. ‘I’ll give him your message. He’ll be over.’
As on the day they’d arrived, Maggie was favourably struck by the man-to-man relationship between Angus MacAllan and son. If you had to bring up a boy on your own it seemed a pretty good angle.
Normally ultra-fussy about Kelly, she was surprised at the calm she felt when handing her over to Graham, who strolled in prompt to the minute. He looked approvingly at the cold snack she had left for them and waved her off with a solicitous: ‘Have a good time. Everything here will be all right.’
‘You know, I believed him,’ she said as Derek ushered her to a table. ‘He’s not twelve yet, but he’s quite adult. I don’t know if you think that strange...’
‘Strange?’ Derek echoed. ‘I think it’s splendid, the best news I could have hoped for.’
She raised a brown-gold eyebrow and he elaborated, ‘Just that. Today I want you to myself. After all, if you remember, we left off at rather a crucial point.’
Yes, she did remember the tall window above Northbridge and his gentle caress. It was base to think: ‘He couldn’t be going to ... not so soon ... I want much longer in Strathyre.’ Odd how at first sight it had gripped her, that soft red house with the fanlight arches and the graceful white pots in its garden. She had never seen Strathyre near Aberdeen before, but childhood had taken her in and out of the houses frequented by Jane Eyre, Maggie Tulliver, Anne of Green Gables and many others. Here was another in the club, a story-teller house.
It would not do. She was being distrait and discourteous. ‘As usual I’m saying thank you. Everything has worked out beautifully.’
It seemed she had been crossing a bridge that was not there. Derek, leaning back comfortably with folded arms, looked pleased and interested but not about to leap into a proposal.
‘I really am delighted,’ he said warmly. ‘Now tell me all about it.’
A gin and tonic later she had got only as far as the welcome freedom of the past few days. Angus MacAllan had not been near her, until this morning she had not so much as glimpsed him. As for Troy, she had vanished into the blue. ‘I don’t mean that’s welcome, of course,’ Maggie qualified. Derek thought highly of Troy.
‘But you like to find your own way. I know. It’s quite understandable,’ he smiled. ‘You won’t see Troy for a week or so. She’s gone back to college. She has a couple of re-exams to take before lectures begin.’
‘She needn’t worry about the stables,’ Maggie said confidently as they walked from the cocktail bar to the dining room. ‘We’ll cope. In fact between you and me and the gatepost Rob could almost cope on his own. Sometimes I ask myself am I really necessary.’
Derek’s lips stretched out in a secret smile. He never looked more attractive than when he wore blue and today suit, shirt and long free-flowing tie were all in the Wedgwood shade. ‘I hope to convince you before too long. Meantime,’ he tapped the menu folder, ‘I can recommend the melon and then perhaps the duck. They sometimes have it with olives, which makes a change.’
It made not only a change but a sumptuous main course and to follow it came a lemon mousse equal to any Maggie had cooked in her armchair. Good food, good surroundings and good company. All last year she had dreamed of just such an occasion. Now, as a wave of sentiment sent her eyes to Derek, the communication between them had never been stronger. He spoke first: ‘Maggie, I’m not going to beat about the bush. Join forces with me.’
It could only be the influence of romantic Strathyre that made her think of the words in which Edward Rochester had addressed his bride. ‘Our honeymoon will last our life long, its beams will only fade over your grave or mine.’
What would you do if Derek spoke like that?
I don’t know. Laugh, probably
Exactly.
‘Well?’ he prompted gently.
‘Will you hate me...’
‘You mean, can I do the impossible?’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘No, my dear, I can’t.’
‘Then could we leave it a while longer?’
His face clouded. ‘I’d have said we’d already left it too long.’
She stretched over and touched his hand. ‘I know it’s selfis
h. But if we did—say three months—Christmas is an awful nice time to get a ring.’
His gaze was steady and not a muscle moved in his face. ‘What are you trying to say, Maggie? That you’re not sure?’
‘No. I just don’t want to put on an engagement ring when I’ve only been a week in the job.’ Was it so amusing? She had a definite feeling he was having a gentle laugh at her expense. But he did not interrupt her and she continued: ‘I need from now till Christmas to get things sorted. The stables aren’t making money and they should be. I’ve things I want to sound Troy out on. If she doesn’t think they’re viable well and good. By Christmas she could even decide to sell. But I don’t want her to get the idea she’s being stampeded, and she might if she knew definitely I was leaving.’ The pause after she had finished seemed to be going on a long time. ‘Please, darling,’ she submitted.
‘Oh, very well,’ Derek said.
The meal over, they walked back to the cars. Derek’s was dusty. It had come a long distance and had as far to go back. Not to worry, he said lightly, motorway much of the way. She did worry. She felt she’d made little of him. ‘Do you mind awfully?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I’m a bad loser,’ he said simply. ‘Don’t take any notice of me. I always carried on when I had to go back to school. Especially for Christmas term. It always seemed endless in September.’
‘But Christmas always came,’ Maggie reminded gently. ‘You never noticed the time going, but it did. This will too, you’ll see. I know how busy you are.’
‘You can say that again!’ He flicked a glance at his wrist. ‘I’ve got something at the moment that I’m really hung up on. Did you but know it you’ve had a lucky escape!’
‘How?’
‘Had things gone my way, I’d fully intended to end up here crying on your shoulder.’ No, he added firmly when she pressed him, not now. After all, as she’d just admitted, she too had business problems.
He took a great deal of persuading. She almost had to threaten. Did he not trust her? She was the same person, with or without a ring on her finger. And she wanted to help, he couldn’t guess how much. At that, he weakened. ‘I won’t deny two heads are better than one. Can you hold on, then? Will Kelly be all right?’
‘Kelly will be fine,’ Maggie returned with confidence. ‘And I’m not budging till you tell me.’
In the warmth of afternoon the place to which he took her, tree-hung and overlooking the Dee, was very pleasant. Its name, Lovers Lane, was that also. They found an empty bench and sat close together.
‘You know my job is security,’ Derek began. ‘I’ve had an ironic assignment. In two words—Angus MacAllan.’
Maggie blinked. In three words—it was nonsense. Security was locks and bolts and strongrooms.
‘And people,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sorry. Didn’t you know? Surveillance, counter-espionage and defence.’
‘I—had no idea.’ They were the only words she could find. Completely inadequate. Thoughts were storming her—James Bond, Paul Temple, hidden microphones, sleazy back rooms. To fit Derek into either world was ludicrous.
‘And you’re shocked?’ The blue eyes were understanding.
‘I’m scared. Isn’t it dangerous?’
His head shook amusedly. ‘Expensive, essential and legitimate. Almost routine these days. No wise firm takes a leap in the dark. If they’re opening up in a new country it’s only sense to check the prospects and the competition. If it’s a merger then obviously the credit rating of the executives they’ll be working with is of paramount importance.’
Maggie’s head jerked. It was the smallest of movements. He noticed it. ‘You reacted. How come? Do you know about this already?’
‘About what?’
‘My headache—the MacAllan merger. I’ve been retained by the other side?’
‘To do what?’
‘Supply a personal briefing of the managing director.’
‘But how?’
‘Oh, the usual. Drinking habits, family life, weaknesses, bank balance. What’s the matter?’ He peered at her face.
‘It’s horrible,’ she said shakily. ‘You know him. You must turn it down.’
‘That’s the hang-up. If I do it could be misleading.’
‘You mean they might think you were hiding something?’
‘That in a nutshell.’
She left Angus MacAllan for the moment. ‘Do you do much of this?’
‘As little as I can. It’s not my favourite facet.’
‘I can believe that. It’s revolting!’
‘My dear, I’m sorry.’ Derek’s hand found hers. ‘But don’t be too trusting. It doesn’t pay, not these days. I give a service. I don’t think too much about the means because the end is vital.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ There was a lesson somewhere. Or a commentary on the affluent society. When snooping became a virtue how topsy-turvy could values get? ‘Then you are going to report on Angus MacAllan?’
‘Case of the lesser of two evils.’ He looked at her sharply. ‘You’re very hot under the collar. Why?’
‘Oh, not for any personal reason.’ Troy’s warning, almost forgotten, came thudding back. ‘I don’t even like him. But it’s smutty. What will you have to do?’
‘Depends. I’m not sure I should tell you. I may not be entirely sold on it, but investigation is part of my business and I have to be careful. If I put a contact into MacAllans I can’t risk tip-offs.’
‘A contact?’ Horror blotted out the slur on her own discretion. ‘What sort of contact?’
‘The best I can get. Someone already there, perhaps, or a new temp if he should need one. There are ways. You wouldn’t like them.’
She was loathing it, but she stayed silent. He took it for invitation.
‘Any firm making a profit is in line for takeover. Merger, then,’ as Maggie’s head moved. ‘They know it, they’re waiting for it. MacAllans is no exception.’ That was true. Angus MacAllan had said as much the evening he’d telephoned from the stables in Glencullen. ‘Friend Angus talked to a lot of people at that get-together in Dublin. My clients had an agent there keeping an eye on him. It’s all right—they like what they saw. If I check him out he’s in clover.’
Good for Bonnie Tweeds. Maggie was no ‘Mr. Memory’, she forgot a lot of things, but funnily enough not that name. Angus MacAllan had said it when he had called up Directory Enquiries from her sitting-room. For some reason her mind had stored it.
Derek was being very right and proper about his clients’ identity, it was amusing that unbeknown to him she knew it already.
‘No trouble there,’ she said lightly. ‘He’s John Knox, Calvin, Queen Victoria, remember, with the Bank of England for afters!’
‘Why do you say that?’ Derek’s eyes were shrewd. ‘Christopher Wren had a word for it! Circumspice. Have you ever been to Strathyre?’
He shook his head.
‘It’s fascinating. One minute you think it’s all just a posh suburb and then you drive up and it’s another world. There’s enough land to make a Western in.’
Somewhere at the beginning Derek had said: ‘Maggie.’ She was afraid she had been rather rude, she’d rattled on. Now he said again quite patiently: ‘Maggie. You’ve given me an idea. Why not you?’
Had she heard aright? She stared, suddenly hearing her heart beat.
‘No. No, Derek, I couldn’t!’
Astonishingly he chuckled. ‘Did you think I meant it? Sorry. I only wish I could get someone with your qualities. Oh yes, love, everyone isn’t like you. Some people don’t forget what they pass on. It’s a risk I have to take, but I don’t underestimate it. I read once that every scrap of information can be the trigger that controls the gun that can be pressed against anybody’s forehead.’ As she flinched, his arm went round her. ‘Not that we need lie awake over this subject. He’s not the son to crack even if it doesn’t come off.’
‘But surely there’s no fear it won’t?’ Angus MacAllan’s few and g
uarded comments had been enough to show his hopes.
‘He’s got to be vetted. Thoroughly. I have my clients, to think of.’
‘You don’t sound sure?’
‘I’m not.’
‘Derek!’
‘Maggie!’ He caught her hand. ‘We have exactly ten minutes left. Forget my smutty job. Let’s count the shopping days to Christmas.’
They sat quietly, his hand cupping her shoulder. No one passed. Below, the Dee lapped its banks. A romantic river. Derek said idly that the Queen Mother was fond of fishing it. ‘Some day I’ll take you right up to Braemar and Glenshee. We might see some red deer if we’re lucky.’ He was talking for the sake of it, hoping to show that he did not blame her. Resting against him she could not but think of the good turns he had done her. She owed him the stables, Wee House, and the marvellous change in Kelly. This was her first opportunity to repay and she’d shied like a nervous filly.
‘I’ve not been much help to you, have I?’ she murmured penitently.
‘Why should you? You’re not marrying my business. I’m sorry it hasn’t more prestige to offer.’
Again compunction welled in her. She had made a shallow judgment, shown a fourth-form mentality. ‘Snooping’ was less than just. Prudence and foresight were good words. Why be derogatory? She could be positive. Here in one was the way to help all parties.
‘I don’t think it need be ashamed of what it offers,’ she said. ‘I think I should be for flying off the handle. Now tell me, what would I have to do?’
He turned her round to face him. It was the least bit scaring that his hands seemed to be trembling. ‘You will? You really will? Oh, bless you!’
In all the time she’d known him she had never seen him lose his cool before.
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