Silver Guilt (13 page)

Drifting into his room as casually as I could, I accepted a glass of fizz and sat back and told him about my week restoring the figure – just to get the idea of Meissen floating in his brain, you might say. Sometimes my past adventures had upset him, so I didn't dare tell him about Nella's behaviour, and I kept pretty quiet about Piers, too. Sometimes he got jealous if I told him about good times Griff and I had together. Goodness knows what he'd make of the situation if I ever did find I was Arthur Habgood's granddaughter. I had an idea he'd be more upset than Griff.

Lord Elham had never given away much about his own life, and of course I'd closed one subject before he'd opened it by telling him I didn't want to know about his work for Titus. He really didn't see anyone else. Until now, of course.

‘How do you get hold of your pot, by the way?' I asked, casually, but with a hint in my tone I wouldn't mind getting some for myself.

If I hadn't been between him and the door I swear he'd have made a run for it.

‘Look,' I continued, ‘it really is dangerous smoking anywhere inside. If you want a spliff, you should stand in the porch. And make sure you dispose of the nub ends where the police can't find them – you don't want to be done for possession.'

‘That's what that Oates cove said,' he croaked. ‘He said I shouldn't ever do anything that might attract anyone's attention.'

‘Exactly. But you smoke in that room upstairs and leave fag ends everywhere. Not sensible.'

‘I told him to use a saucer or something. There are enough of them around,' he added, as if that put him in the clear.

‘Some of them are a bit expensive to use as ashtrays. Is that why you got him to use those jardinières?'

‘Big pot things? Pot? Get it?' he chortled. ‘He said they'd look good in his conservatory and I said he could have them. Didn't look much good to me – not the sort of thing you sell for me.' His smile was a bit on the sickly side.

‘Did you say he could have that Meissen figurine?'

He looked from side to side as if afraid the curtains might be eavesdropping. ‘He thought he could get a few bob for it – don't like always to be putting on you, Lina.'

He used my name so rarely I nearly dropped my flute.

‘You do a lot for me. Don't think I don't know that. Very fond of you, my girl, and very proud too. But it seems this Darren bloke's got some of your talents too. Here.' He stood and dug in his back pocket, producing a fold of notes. ‘Ninety quid he got for that. And he wouldn't take any commission.'

‘Sit down and listen. One of you has lost a lot of money on that deal. I told you I'd found something that would make a nice little bonus if ever you were really short. That there figure, that Meissen he tells you he got £90 for, was worth £2000 at the very least. OK, I'd have got £200 for selling it, but you'd have got £1800. So either he didn't get enough, so you both lost out. Or he got what it was worth and didn't tell you. In effect,' I concluded unkindly, ‘you were robbed.'

Lord Elham never was a very good colour, but now he looked quite ill. ‘Robbed? My own son robs me? Darren?'

I poured him some more champagne and held his hand to guide it to his mouth, which was a nasty shade of grey. One day I was going to have to get him to a doctor, wasn't I? ‘It might have been Darren that was robbed,' I said. ‘But how come you didn't tell me you'd found one of my brothers? I'd love to meet him.'

He put the glass on the table beside him, and actually squeezed my hand. ‘I know you would. I told him you would. I told him you were a real expert who'd helped when the police came. But – you know what? – he didn't seem at all keen. In fact, he made a point of asking what times you came round, and it seems to me he made another point of coming round when you weren't here.'

In that case, I reflected dryly, I'd better make a point of being there a bit more often. Or my father could have been lying, to get more company and to irritate Griff. I wouldn't have put it past him.

I nodded, non-committally. ‘Tell me about Darren.' I could have bombarded the old guy with questions, and God knows I had plenty to ask, but I'd best wait for him to tell me in his own good time. At least his colour was better now. I topped up his glass and sat down, looking patient.

‘His mother should have known better. Fancy calling someone with the surname Harris Darren. Darrenarris. Dear me. I wouldn't have allowed it, believe me.'

Would he have married her to prevent it? So that Darren would have taken his own name?

‘Anyway, it seems his mother read about that damned book, and thought Darren ought to get his hands on some of my lucre. So he turned up one day. Just as I was watching
The Weakest Link,
too. Told him I didn't have any, not personally, but if he cared to wait till he was thirty, the trust fund you'd made me set up would fork out a few thousand. He seemed a bit miffed. Anyway, he had a bit of a look round, and said he'd come back. And he did. Bought me some Pot Noodles, although I'd told him you said I shouldn't eat them. So he threw the pots straight in the dustbin – disposing of the evidence, you might say. He smoked a joint or two, and I gave him those planter things and he sold the Meissen figure. I shan't half give him a piece of my mind next time he comes.'

It must have been Darren's second visit, since I'd noticed the pot before. And he must have made a third to bring the cash. ‘When's that likely to be?'

I'd tried to sound casual, but Lord Elham dropped into shifty mode again. ‘Oh, he'll be round sometime, I dare say.'

‘Have you got him to sell something else?'

‘I'm a stupid old duffer, aren't I?'

‘I don't know. Darren may be as honest as the day is long, but just not very good at selling things. Does he give you receipts, like I do? Well, then . . . What was his mother like?'

He shook his head. ‘Do you know, I can't remember her at all? Not one scrap.'

‘Is she in your book?' He kept a tatty school exercise book with a list of all his sexual partners, including columns for any issue, any abortions and any diseases.

‘Oh, yes,' he said, so casually I suspected he hadn't looked. Maybe I should.

‘Ninety quid doesn't go very far,' he continued. ‘I don't suppose . . . ?'

‘OK. I'll find something. What we really need to do is sell that silver dish.'

‘No takers yet?'

‘'Fraid not. But I'll keep trying. Now, cricket's quite big at the moment. Have you got any memorabilia you've not told me about? And yes, I will give you receipts, don't worry.'

‘So you're afraid this Darren Harris person – dear me, your father's quite right, it is an unfortunate combination – is simply a fortune hunter with no claim at all on the family?' Griff asked, passing me the salad bowl as we sat at supper.

I helped myself. ‘What family? The thing is, Griff, the old bugger's brain only works half the time. Remember he showed me how to get into the main part of the house and disable the corridor alarms? What if he's shown Darren? OK, he's got to remember the code he's supposed to tap in, but on a good day even that might not defeat him. Plus I've found a couple of other ways in no one knows about, and if I can, Darren can too. Oh, dear. Perhaps I've just got a suspicious mind.'

‘Certain items have disappeared from the hall, and a possibly stolen silver plate turns up in your father's possession. I think you're right to be suspicious. But you must also be circumspect.'

‘You mean I should watch my back, right?'

‘I do indeed.'

‘But I also need to watch Lord Elham's since he doesn't seem able to do it for himself.'

Griff tried not to let his face fall, but I could see he was upset.

The front doorbell rang. I went to see who was there.

‘Piers! I wasn't expecting you!' I flung myself into his arms, and treated him to a huge kiss, which I fancied he returned, with feeling. Perhaps things would start speeding up at last.

‘I know,' he said at last. ‘So I thought I'd give you a surprise. Both of you,' he added, as he walked through to find Griff. ‘Tara!' He flourished a bottle and put it into Griff's hands. ‘I don't know anything about Irish whiskey but they said this was the best. And I got a little present for Lina, too,' he said, looking at me with a smile that melted my knees. ‘It's been such a long time and I've missed you so much and I hope you've missed me.'

I suppose I had. In any case, it wouldn't do to tell him I'd been busy doing other things.

‘So I found something I hope will remind you of me if ever we're apart for so long again. Which I hope we won't be.'

Griff took himself off, tactfully saying he'd find some whiskey glasses.

Piers fished in his pocket, coming up with a small velvet box with an unmistakable shape. Oh, dear – was I ready for anything like that? I might fancy him, but I didn't think I loved him. Or perhaps it was just that I hadn't learned how to recognize that particular emotion. Perhaps if I got to know him in ordinary everyday situations, not just fun, fairy-tale times, that would help me sort out what I was feeling, not to mention why he seemed to be so smitten with me, but not smitten enough to do more than snog.

‘Let's call it – just for the time being – a friendship ring. Just for the time being,' he repeated, eyes holding mine.

I blushed. Deeply. I think he took it for maidenly bashfulness. It was actually an attack of pure lust. For him, to be fair, not the ring that winked at me from the box.

He reached for my right hand, and slipped the ring on the third finger.

‘Piers, it's beautiful! It's stunning!'

It was. It was a glowing ruby, the red they used to call pigeon's blood, nearly two carats in weight. It was surrounded by diamonds, some one and a half carats' worth.

‘I saw it in Dublin – and like they say – there's only one thing I can't resist and that's temptation. I knew I had to have it and I knew you had to wear it.'

Griff returned, saying all the right things. The whiskey went down well, but not very much of it found its way down Piers' throat: it seemed that it was only a flying visit, and he had to get back on the road almost immediately. Griff didn't press him to change his mind: one day he might have to confront the knowledge that I was bonking my socks off in the bedroom the other side of his bathroom, but I guessed he didn't want it to be just yet.

I should have lain awake thinking about the future, and even the possibility that one day I might have to leave Griff on his own, but Griff pressed so much whiskey on me that I fell asleep the moment Tim found his way into bed and slept the sleep of the just.

W
hen a guy presents you with a friendship ring, it might seem a tad ungrateful to subject it to scrutiny. Especially when the guy seems to think the ring might transform itself into an engagement ring in due course. At least I hadn't done it when he was there – I'd waited twenty-four long hours, actually, before I reached out with my jeweller's eyepiece, while Griff was preparing supper the next evening.

Griff wouldn't ever soil his lips with expressions like
looking a gift horse in the mouth.
But he did ask, as he tasted the green curry sauce, ‘More lime, I think. Surely that breaches all rules of etiquette, my darling Lina?'

‘I know.' Putting the eyeglass away unused, I slipped the ring back on to my finger, which I wiggled so that it picked up the light. ‘I think I was a bit bowled over,' I conceded slowly. ‘A jewel like this from a guy I didn't realize was quite so keen on me. For me, Lina Townend!' I didn't mention what I thought it might retail at, because that would truly have offended Griff. Something like £5000, I reckoned.

‘There's no earthly reason why Evelina Townend should not own such things. Indeed, possess them as of right!'

How much pre-supper wine had Griff sunk?

‘Griff, what was I doing? Seriously? Accepting something so valuable?'

‘Piers is, despite his predilection for cords and body warmers, a most dashing piece of manhood,' Griff observed. Then he started to send himself up: ‘Those shoulders! That neat bum!'

‘Those cornflower blue eyes, perfect complexion and honey-coloured hair,' I continued, as if it really was no more than a game.

Suddenly Griff was sober. ‘My sweet one, what else do you know about him? His family, for instance? Is it not time you were taken home to meet them? And don't tell me he's estranged from them, because he doesn't have the air of the cast-off younger son.'

‘I know.'

‘Does he never mention them?'

I shook my head, preferring not to mention the way he'd snubbed me when I suggested it. I couldn't even remember the long word he'd mentioned when he'd said we might be related. ‘All I know is what you know – that he comes from Sevenoaks,' I said, not quite truthfully.

Griff sipped his Pinot Grigio delicately, looking at me from under his eyebrows. ‘I hesitate to suggest what you may consider an entirely unromantic course of action. But have you thought of looking up the Hamlyns on Google?' When I hesitated he said, ‘Let's do it together, after supper.'

We found a removals firm and a farmer, but not a lot else. Was Piers attached to either of these families? I'd simply have to ask him. And as the wearer of the gorgeous pulsating ruby I was surely entitled.

Piers didn't seem to see it that way, however, when I asked him the next day, at a fair in a hotel near Ashford. ‘My family? Why, for God's sake, do you keep banging on about them, Lina?'

‘Because I'm interested.' I resolved never to tell him about my Googling. ‘After all, you've met my family.'

‘Only Griff.'

Only
Griff! ‘He's all the family I have. I don't count Lord Elham. He's just a responsibility.'