A String in the Harp (40 page)

And then Peter disappeared. One minute he was beside Becky, pinching crumbs off a cream bun, the next he had vanished.

“Where is he?” demanded Jen, looking around.

Becky shook her head, equally astonished. Out of the corner of her eye, Jen saw the outside doorknob move, but by the time she’d wrenched the door open, Peter had gone.

“How
could
he?” she exclaimed indignantly. “How could he run out like that? It’s because of him we’re in this mess!”

“It isn’t really,” Becky reminded her. “It’s because of you Dr. Owen’s here at all. You told him and Dr. Rhys.”

“Did you know he was going to sneak out?”

“No, he didn’t tell me, but I think it might be better without him.”

David called them just then, and Jen snapped her mouth shut. Her thoughts were black, as she took the tray to the lounge. She felt betrayed and furious with Peter for ducking
out on an afternoon they had known from the start none of them would enjoy. And she felt guilty, too, because Becky was right. It was her fault.

“Ah, yes,” said Dr. Owen getting to his feet as they entered. “Jennifer and—”

“Becky,” supplied David. His face told the two girls nothing important had been said yet. “Where’s Peter?”

“Gone out for a minute,” said Becky evasively.

David looked hard from Becky to Jen. “I thought I just heard him in the kitchen with you.”

“I’m sure he’ll be right back.” Becky’s voice expressed a conviction Jen did not share, nor was she sure Becky actually believed her own statement. But David appeared to accept it.

Jen sat behind the teapot. If Becky could be calm, so could she. “Dr. Owen, would you like milk or lemon in your tea? And sugar?”

For the next few minutes Dr. Owen allowed the conversation to wander in a politely aimless fashion from the weather to Aberystwyth, the University, life in Borth. But didn’t the Morgans miss living near a city? This did seem a bit primitive. David chuckled and said that, after a few weeks in Borth, Aberystwyth looked like a city to them. Dr. Owen smiled in agreement, but all the while Jen felt he was watching her, and they were all waiting for the real conversation to begin.

Dr. Owen didn’t waste much time coming to the point. He had business to transact and wouldn’t permit himself to be sidetracked.

“Well,” he began, sitting back in his chair, his hands folded. Three pairs of eyes were on him at once. “I don’t know if Gwyn told you the purpose of my visit, did he? I do have a reason for asking to come.”

“I think we know it,” said David quietly.

“That should make this all very much easier then,” Dr. Owen said pleasantly. “I’ve thought about you a good deal since your visit to Cardiff. I was very interested in the
questions
—ah—Jennifer asked me. She seemed to have something
rather specific
on her mind, and when I spoke to Gwyn last month he confirmed this. As I believe I mentioned at the Museum, objects do turn up in strange places and we can hardly afford not to chase them. So, since I was coming to Aberystwyth, I thought we might just continue our conversation.”

“I’m sorry?” Jen struggled to sound as if she’d forgotten it.

“Oh, come. You were far too
interested
not to remember what you were asking about,” said Dr. Owen. “It rather sounded to me as if you’d found something that you thought might be of
value.
Of course, no one can tell until it’s been examined, but I’m right, am I not?”

“Actually,” Jen hedged truthfully, “I haven’t found anything.”

“Perhaps not. It was your sister or your brother then? You did mention your brother.” Dr. Owen regarded her shrewdly. “You asked
specifically
about harp keys as I recall.” He turned to David. “I told you then how important the discovery of one would be, didn’t I? Yes, I was sure I had. It would be most
unwise
to withhold an object of that nature, but I’m sure I needn’t tell
you
that, David. Your background must certainly make you aware of it.”

“Yes,” said David and looked at Jen.

“Suppose I had found something,” said Jen carefully, “and it turned out not to be old. What would happen to it then?”

“Well, if it weren’t of interest to the Museum you could keep it, of course. And you can be sure we’d be perfectly honest with you, Jennifer. No question there. If it were an important find, on the other hand, you’d have the satisfaction of knowing you’d
contributed
to the history of the country. Not everyone can do that.”

Behind Dr. Owen’s calm, pleasant little smile, Jen sensed
a very sharp edge. She had to go with extreme caution; he would see through any deception. “No,” she said finally.

“Good.
I see we’re beginning to understand one another. Why don’t you just show me this object, hmm? There’s every chance I shan’t even have to take it back to Cardiff with me. These things frequently turn out to be more quaint and curious than valuable, you know, David.”

“I’m sorry.” Jen shook her head. “I don’t have it.”

The smile slipped for an instant, and Jen saw irritation. But only for an instant. “Why don’t you get it then while we wait?”

“I don’t know where it is.” What a relief to be able to tell him the truth!

Dr. Owen frowned slightly. “Have you lost it? That would be dreadfully careless. Perhaps you could think
hard
for a minute?”

“It won’t help. I don’t know where it is,” Jen said again.

“But there
is
such an object?” Dr. Owen had scored one point anyway.

Jen could see no virtue in flatly denying it and fumbling for a cover-up. Dr. Owen was far too clever to accept that, so she said nothing. Instead David interrupted, speaking mildly. He evidently thought Dr. Owen had gone far enough without interference. “I believe Jen understands the importance of what you’re saying, Dr. Owen.”

“I would hope so, David, but I’m not quite sure. There seems to be no doubt that
one
of your children has found something, and Gwyn seemed to feel it might be of special interest. I’ve great regard for his judgment.”

“So have I,” agreed David. “He also feels that my children are capable of taking responsibility for such an object, whatever it is. He has said so to all of us. I can’t allow him to have more confidence in them than I do!”

“Up to a point, David, surely, but they
are
children, after all. They can scarcely be expected to judge the value of an object
that might just
possibly
be thousands of years old. I know you’re their father, but you are also a scholar and you must understand my point.”

“Has Gwyn actually seen this object?”

“No, as a matter of fact he said he hadn’t when I asked him. But he mentioned he’d discussed it with your daughter—again, Jennifer, I believe. I
am
right?”

Jen gave an unwilling nod.

“So you see.”

“I see that you’ve really got nothing but hearsay to go on,” said David. “In Cardiff I remember your telling us that nine times out of ten the objects people turn up and bring to you are simply archaeological rubbish. The countryside must be full of it.”

“Quite, David, quite,” said Dr. Owen with exaggerated patience. “But we do examine every piece that comes in and
occasionally
we find a real treasure. How can we be sure until we see?”

David nodded. “I understand that. You depend upon cooperation, though, don’t you? You can’t force someone to give you whatever he’s found, involuntarily.”

“Well, not always. That’s a rather touchy subject, David, and I’d as soon
not
get into it with you. Unpleasant, you know. Naturally, we do depend to a great extent on
voluntary donations,
as it were. Cooperation is terribly important, not only because it’s far simpler for everyone, but it gives people a sense of having
done
something. Really, David, all I’m asking for now is
your
cooperation.”

“But I’m not the right person to ask. You must go to the one with the object.”

“There.” Dr. Owen made a gesture with his hands, as if to say exactly so. “One of your children and here I am. If I seem to be addressing myself primarily to you, it’s because I feel we’re colleagues in a sense and I know you understand my position. I rely on you to make your children understand it.
After all, I’m a stranger to them. However, I’m sure
you
can
make
them bring it forward. I know children love to play games, but this really isn’t a matter to be taken lightly.”

“I agree.” David’s tone was cool. “I don’t much like the word ‘make’.”

“Sometimes it does seem necessary. It’s only fair to warn you that the Museum does have methods of dealing with those who are uncooperative, when it seems advisable. If it were learned that you were withholding an important specimen from us, there could be rather an unpleasant investigation. Mind you, I don’t say there
would
be, but there
could
be. And you’d not have a very strong position, David, as a visitor to Wales. . . . Nor would it seem altogether admirable, shall I say, for a man in your line of work.”

“Meaning?”

“You
are
a university lecturer. Someone dedicated to scholarship and all that.”

“I would be sorry to see it come down to that,” said David shortly.

“Indeed, so should I,” Dr. Owen assured him with sincerity. “But this is my
job,
you understand. Normally I enjoy it tremendously—I find it exciting and vital—but from time to time there
are
situations . . . and this is one of them, I’m very much afraid. I don’t think there’s anything
unreasonable
in my position, do you? I am simply doing my job the most effective way I can. As a parent, I would rather have thought
your
job—”

“My job is to bring up my children the most effective way
I
can,” interrupted David. “Part of that job is teaching them responsibility and then trusting them with it. I find it’s not easy to learn, either for them or for me. We all have to allow each other to make mistakes, and we’re not always as quick as we should be to understand and help. But we
are
learning, Dr. Owen. I’m beginning to have a good deal of confidence in us—I think we’ll survive as a family, but only if we can rely on
each other. So”—he paused—“I’m going to rely on them now to do what’s right. And they can rely on me to help. You’ve made your case and I’ll grant it’s a strong one, but I’ll tell you in all honesty, I will not stand to see my children bullied by anyone but me.”

Jen’s heart lifted. She felt like cheering.

But Dr. Owen looked aggrieved. “There is surely a difference between bullying and using common sense, David. You could perhaps call it intervention?”

“Of course. I want to be fair with you, I respect your position. But I truly believe Jen, Becky, and Peter would none of them treat this matter irresponsibly. If I change my mind for any reason, I won’t hesitate to
intervene,
as you say. Right now I’m going to leave it to them.”

“Not a very professional attitude, David,” said Dr. Owen reproachfully. “I certainly hope you don’t regret it.”

“So do I,” David agreed. “I don’t think, however, that we’ll get any further by pursuing this now.” He turned to Jen and Becky who had been listening to the conversation intently. “Do you both understand quite thoroughly what we’ve been saying?”

Jen pulled herself together. “Yes.” Becky nodded.

“Good. Dr. Owen’s quite right, I
am
responsible for you—you’re minors—so if I think you’re getting out of hand,” the suggestion of a smile, “I will interfere, I promise you.”

With a sigh Dr. Owen stood up. “I’m sorry I can’t
really
approve of your method of dealing with this, David.”

“So am I.” David got to his feet; so did Jen and Becky. “Of course, there’s always a good chance we’ve wasted a lot of breath on an object that doesn’t even exist—neither you nor I nor Dr. Rhys has seen it.”

The two men exchanged a long, not entirely unfriendly look. “Well, David, I’ve little time to spare this trip, I’m afraid. I’ve got some rather pressing business at the National Library before I go back to Cardiff. I hope you feel assured my interests
in this matter are purely
professional
if we find we must pursue it further.”

“I do,” said David.

“Good. And if anything
does
turn up, you can reach me at this address for the next few days—it’s a guest house in Aberystwyth. I’ll be there until Wednesday. I think possibly once you’ve had time to
consider,
you may want to reach me.”

David nodded. “We may. Becky, would you get Dr. Owen’s coat, please?” He and Dr. Owen shook hands.

“Thank you for tea. I hope I’ll be speaking to you again soon.” Dr. Owen paused long enough to look sharply at each of them, then left, walking quickly away from Bryn Celyn, down the hill to the bus stop. Jen, Becky, and David watched him go.

“What’ll happen now?” asked Becky.

“I don’t know,” David answered. “I doubt very much that he’ll drop it, he’s too sure of himself, and his arguments are good ones. But he knows where I stand, heaven help me! I only hope I don’t live to regret this, as your Aunt Beth would say, I’m sure. I’m only being humorous, Jen, don’t frown at me. And where the hell do you suppose Peter’s got to this time?”

“You swore—are you terribly cross with him?” Becky asked.

“I have a feeling I ought to be!”

“You can be if you want,” Peter said suddenly. “I just couldn’t face him at the last minute. I’m sorry. And I didn’t tell you where I was going.” He made no move to enter the lounge but stood uncertainly in the doorway, his hand on the knob.

“Where were you?” demanded Jen. “And why
didn’t
you tell us?”

“You wouldn’t have let me go.”

“You’re right.”

“I thought we’d been all through this business of going off alone,” said David severely.

“He hasn’t been gone very long,” said Becky. “He can’t have gone far, it’s only four-thirty.”