Moreton's Kingdom (20 page)

‘Take a deep breath!’ Emma advised, lifting him into her arms. ‘Otherwise you’ll go off pop! Did you see the lions?’ She kissed his cheek.

‘Yes, I saw two lions an’ they had two baby lions as well. They were sittin’ on some rocks, but one lion was walking up and down, watching everybody. I think he didn’t like people staring at his babies.’

‘I guess not.’ Emma was looking at Fergus. ‘There’s quite a lot to pack if we’re going to take everything back with us,’ she pointed out. ‘More than we can cope with in the Mini, I’m afraid.’

Fergus looked at Katherine.

‘Kate could bring the rest,’ he suggested. ‘I’ve already asked her to come back to the glen for a few days.’

‘I’ll be looking for a job,’ Katherine reminded him, although her pulses were already racing at the thought of the glen.

‘Come, all the same,’ he said.

‘I’ll get the pictures ready, anyway,’ she promised, confused because it was her dearest wish to return to Glassary, but not like this. Not on Fergus’s invitation only.

There were still a few people in the gallery, the inevitable stragglers who came in late and lingered after closing time pretending a profound interest but not buying. Emma glanced at her watch.

‘If we’re going to make the glen before bedtime,’ she said, looking in Sandy’s direction, ‘I think we should be on our way. You’re quite sure you can manage by yourself?’ she asked Katherine once more.

‘Once this lot make up their minds to go it won’t take me very long to clear up,’ Katherine assured her. ‘I’ll come back for the remainder of the pictures in the morning,’ she added, ‘and leave them at the flat.’

‘Bring them to Glassary,’ Fergus insisted. ‘You can’t possibly want to look for another job right away.’

‘I’ll see,’ she told him vaguely.

‘We’ll give you till Tuesday,’ he said, ‘and if you don’t turn up by then we’ll come and fetch you.’

It was the decision she should have made for herself, Katherine thought, to let them come back for the pictures and then make some excuse for not going to Glassary.

Her heart felt as cold as ice as she watched them pack most of the unsold canvases in the boot before they turned to help Sandy into the car. He was still excited by his busy day and she stooped to kiss him on the cheek as they parted.

‘Take care of the animals,’ she said huskily. ‘Especially Fudge.’

‘Uncle Charles has mended your bike,’ he remembered. ‘It’s all ready for you to ride again.’

She hugged him close to hide the tears which gathered in her eyes.

‘Goodbye, darling,’ she said under her breath.

‘Remember what I said.’ Fergus got in beside Emma when he had finally locked the boot. ‘Tuesday—or else!’

‘I’ll remember.’

She stood in the doorway, watching them go, seeing Sandy’s fair head through the back window until the Mini turned a corner and was lost to her for ever.

I won’t go, she thought. I couldn’t bear the pain of going back to the glen, not even to the hotel.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It
wasn’t difficult to clear the gallery, but she decided to leave the remainder of the paintings there overnight and collect them the following day. Then she would take them to the flat and hand the keys over to the caretaker and that would be that. It would be the end of a happy chapter in her life when she had come to know Fergus and Emma intimately while they worked together for the common good, and certainly the exhibition had been that for Fergus, at least. The change in him had been miraculous and the thought of Coralie upsetting it all was too much to contemplate, but Coralie was an unstable sort of person, given to sudden impulses, which might easily complicate the situation, once again. The half-promise she had made had very little substance behind it, and even as she had talked of ‘sharing’ Sandy under the terms of the law she had been doubtful about the actual result. She was still ‘clawing her way to the top’, as she had put it so succinctly, and she meant to give her undivided attention to that end. She could, however, make it impossible for Sandy to settle and Fergus to forget her completely. She could still spoil his life—and Emma’s—by being there and wanting to dominate the scene by asserting her rights. Yet, if she succeeded in her career, if her life became full and satisfying elsewhere, it was doubtful if she would ever want to see Glassary again.

When she had locked the canvases in the office, Katherine closed the gallery door and walked slowly along the almost deserted streets to where she had parked her car. Edinburgh in this evening hour was an enchanted place, with the old houses looking down at her on either side and the shadowy vennels guarding their secrets as she passed. The sun had set towards the west, leaving haunting shadows among the gabled roofs and slants of yellow light at the corners where the tall buildings came closely together like whispering neighbours, their heads almost touching as they gossiped together at the ending of another day. Yet she could not feel the warmth of friendship nor the happiness of belonging. She had never felt so alone in all her life as when the Mini had turned the corner and disappeared from view.

As she opened the door of her car it seemed to be the ending of a chapter which could never be re-written, however hard she tried. The initial mistake she had made in trusting Coralie implicitly had brought her confusion and heartache, but it had also brought her companionship and love. She would never forget Emma and Fergus and Sandy, who had left a bright warmth in her heart, just as she could never forget Charles, who must still hold her in absolute contempt. So much so that he must only be glad that she would never return to the glen.

There was very little to do when she reached the flat because she had decided to tidy up finally on the Monday morning. After that she would leave, phoning through to Emma at the hotel to tell her what she had done. The paintings would be safe enough at the flat until someone could come to Edinburgh to collect them.

All next day she wondered about Glassary, thinking that the routine would be very much the same as it had always been; seeing Sandy riding down to the Stable House on his pony or sitting bolt upright on Fergus’s knee while the electric wheelchair careered down the slope towards the loch; seeing Fergus preparing a new canvas for his brush while he discussed it with Emma, or even showing it to Charles. There would be the boat on the loch lying beside the wooden jetty with the oars ready, and the ducks congregating among the reeds, and high up against the rugged contours of the mountains there would be a kestrel or a buzzard hovering above the moor to plummet in a magnificent aerial dive when it found its prey.

Because it was a day for heights she climbed to the top of Arthur’s Seat to look down on the broad estuary of the Forth and beyond the water to the green Ochils standing in a bright half-circle, shutting out the wind from the north. Edinburgh lay at her feet, its undoubted magic casting its spell until she knew that she would stay there for good or ill. This lovely northern capital with its grey towers and battlemented castle standing high on its ancient rock had bewitched her, and she would look for a job here. London, in comparison, seemed very far away.

Her decision made, she scanned an old issue of
The Scotsman
to assess the situation as it would affect her and decided that her chances were good. In the morning she would ring an agency, leaving her credentials with them for reference.

It occurred to her, then, to phone Emma at the hotel, telling her that she would leave the paintings at the flat for Fergus to collect when he was next in Edinburgh. There was a long pause before Emma answered.

‘I think you’re wrong,’ she said slowly, ‘avoiding Glassary like this. I think you ought to come back to the glen even if it’s only to say goodbye.’

‘I’ve already said my goodbyes.’ Katherine almost choked on the words. ‘I couldn’t bear to do it all over again, especially if I met Charles.’

‘I guess that would be inevitable if you went to Glassary,’ Emma agreed, ‘but why not come here and take a chance?’

‘Later, perhaps,’ said Katherine. ‘I’ll look for a job, Emma, and then I’ll contact you again.’

‘I hope you will,’ Emma said doubtfully, ‘but I warn you that Fergus might not take “no” for an answer. He’s very grateful for your help, Kate. We all are, and we’ll be terribly disappointed if you cut adrift.’

‘I won’t do that,’ Katherine whispered. ‘Honestly. I’ll be in touch when I’ve settled in and perhaps we can meet when you come to Edinburgh!’

‘You’re still at the flat, of course?’ Emma asked.

‘Till tomorrow. Then I mean to look for a quiet hotel where I can stay for a while until I land a suitable job. Wish me luck!’ she added as lightly as she could.

Emma said: ‘Of course I wish you luck, but not while you’re being stupid and renouncing all your friends. You’ve done so much for us, Kate, we simply
have
to care about you. Fergus isn’t going to be at all pleased when he hears your decision.’

Katherine put down the receiver, her vision blurred by the tears she could no longer hold in check. They had become friends in the shortest space of time because Emma and Fergus had judged her impartially, apart from Coralie, but Charles had seen her as just another lightweight character like his sister-in-law and his former fiancée, and that alone would keep her from returning to the glen.

In the morning she packed her suitcase, leaving it just inside the door beside the paintings she had collected from the gallery the evening before. The view of the glen she had bought for herself was still unwrapped and she stood looking at it for one tender moment before she found the corrugated cardboard and brown paper in which to protect it against damage until she found a place for it on the wall of some other flat or even in a bed-sitter somewhere in the suburbs.

Even after she had dusted the living-room and smoothed out the cushions for the last time it was still only eleven o’clock. She had nearly a whole day before her, the first of many lonely days. They would fall into a pattern in the end when she eventually found work, but it would be a pattern far removed from Glassary.

The doorbell rang, jolting her thoughts back to the present, although she could not imagine whom it might be. Wildly she thought of Charles, her pulses racing for a moment, but when she lifted the receiver it was a woman’s voice that answered.

‘It’s Coralie,’ she said. ‘Can you let me in?’

Katherine’s first impulse was to refuse, to say ‘no’ because Coralie had caused so much trouble in the past, and then, almost automatically, she pressed the button which released the lock on the main door.

She was standing at the entrance to the flat when Coralie came up the stairs, and she saw instantly that her visitor had spent a restless night.

‘I have to talk to you,’ Coralie said, passing her as if she had expected to be kept standing on the landing. ‘I’ve got a lot to say.’

‘If it’s about Sandy,’ said Katherine, ‘surely you’ve said it all?’

Coralie closed the door behind her.

‘Not quite. I’ve taken nearly two days to think about it and now I’ve made my decision.’ She walked into the tidy living-room. ‘Are you leaving?’ she asked.

‘I can’t stay here indefinitely now that the exhibition is over,’ Katherine pointed out. ‘Emma and I had the use of the flat while we were working at the gallery, but I can’t expect Charles to go on accommodating me for ever.’

‘Why not?’ Coralie’s eyes were brilliant. ‘I could make this place look entirely different, given a chance,’ she decided. ‘I’d do away with this atrocious purple carpet, for a start, and change the wallpaper to liven things up a bit. Then I’d have different curtains and new furniture and plenty of side tables to reduce the space. I could do it over for Charles if he did want to let it.’

‘I don’t think he does,’ Katherine said firmly, ‘and I wouldn’t ask, if I were you. What did you come to say to me?’

Coralie’s enthusiasm died in her eyes as she met the challenge. She was no longer the effervescent designer, but a rather sad person who had come to a reluctant conclusion about her future.

‘Could we have some coffee or something?’ she asked plaintively. ‘I have to talk.’

Katherine went towards the kitchen where everything had been washed and stacked away.

‘I was going out to look for a hotel,’ she explained. ‘I won’t be staying here tonight.’

‘Surely a cup of coffee can’t be too great a problem,’ Coralie suggested, following her through. ‘I’ll help wash up afterwards, if you like.’

‘Two mugs won’t take much washing.’ In the face of her visitor’s obvious distress Katherine felt suddenly churlish. ‘I’m sorry! I should have offered,’ she apologised, ‘but there isn’t much to eat.’

‘I don’t eat in the middle of the morning,’ Coralie said. ‘I have to watch my figure, especially now that I’m going places and doing things. I’ve got that job I told you about, by the way,’ she added, ‘and the promise of a follow-up if I can go to Rome immediately afterwards. My designs are taking off in a big way.’ Her blue eyes glittered. ‘Success attracts success, as the saying goes!’

‘I expect it does,’ Katherine allowed, ‘but that’s not what you came to discuss, is it?’

Coralie spooned instant coffee powder into the jug she had found.

‘No, it isn’t,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t know why I have to tell you, unless it’s because you were so fond of Sandy.’ Katherine turned to look at her in the full light from the kitchen window. All the brilliant anticipation of a successful future had faded from Coralie’s eyes and she looked lost. She was so like a bewildered Sandy in that moment that Katherine’s heart seemed to turn over, and then she said:

‘I guess I’m an essentially selfish person, Kate, but I’ve thought very carefully about the future now.’ She carried the coffee jug into the living-room. ‘You see, I hung around after I came to the gallery on Saturday afternoon intending to come back when Fergus had returned with Sandy. I
did
come back,’ she added, ‘and I was in one of the cubicles looking at Fergus’s paintings when they arrived. I saw you all together then for the first time. I saw Sandy’s joy and security and I knew I could never match it. I could never give him what he had at Glassary by right.’ Her voice faltered as she looked through the window at the trees in the gardens across the road. ‘I can hardly expect you to believe me,’ she said, ‘because it’s the toughest decision I’ve ever made, but I
do
mean to put Sandy’s interests first.’