The Stranger Came (12 page)

'No
one
would
believe
it.
Sixty
perhaps.’

'No,'
he
said
firmly.
He
had
sunk
down
so
that
she,
taught
in
childhood
to
sit
up
straight,
looked
down
on
the
white
clean
curve
of
his
brow.
'That's
flattering
but
not
so.
I
look
like
what
I
am
–
a
well
preserved
seventy-year –
old
who's
blessed
with
good
health
and
fortunate
enough
to
be
one
of
the
lucky
few
who
don't
have
to
comply
with
any
nonsense
about
retiring.
I
shan't
retire.
I'll
go
on
like
this
and
one
day
someone
like
you
will
say,
You
might
be
sixty
–
and
the
next
the
deception
will
cease
and
some
unconsidered
piece
of
the
machinery
wear
out
and
I
shall
be
dead.’

He
paused
as
if
there
was
a
response
she
might
care
to
enter
at
this
point,
but
since
what
he
had
said
was
truth
so
clearly
expressed
it
did
not
occur
to
her
to
offer
any
comfort.
She
waited
with
hands
passive
in
her
lap
and
as
though
pumped
under
pressure
he
rose
up
until
he
had
straightened
himself
behind
the
shelter
of
the
desk.

'I
wondered,'
she
said
diffidently,
'if
there
would
be
any problem
about
my
attending
the
Trust
meeting
next
Wednesday.’

He
stared
blankly,
looking
his
age
in
that
mild
confusion,
until
recovering
he
said,
'A
place
for
you
is
there
at
any
of
our
meetings.
Of
right,
as
it
were.’
He
reflected.
'Is
Maitland
unwell?
If
there
is
some
point
he
wishes
to
be
covered,
I
could
present
it.
There
wouldn't
be
any
need
for
you
to
trouble
yourself.’

'He'll
be
there.
It's
just
that
I'd
like
to
be
there
too.’

At
a
loss,
he
frowned.
'Then
there's
something
that
...’
A
shadow
of
irritability
clouded
his
gallantry.

'When
I
think
of
my
father,'
she
said,
'I
feel
I
should
have
been
more
involved.
But
Maitland
was
there
and
I
felt
I
would
hardly
be
missed
–
not
while
Maitland
was
there.’

'You
say
he'll
be
there
on
Wednesday.
He's
well
enough?
Yes
…
But
you'd
like
to
be
present
also.’

'My
father
put
so
much
of
himself
into
the
Trust.’

It
was
all
she
had
to
offer,
and
his
acceptance
of
it
as
some
kind
of
explanation
would
allow
her
also
to
be
satisfied.
'As
of
right';
she
had
a
right
to
be
there;
that's
what
he
had
said.

'Your
father
would
have
been
older
than
I,
if
he
had
been
spared.
I
find
that
strange.
When
I
think
of
him,
I
think
of
a
young
man –
so
filled
with
energy
and
purpose.’
He
sighed.
'The
war
killed
him
though
he
survived
it.
As
it
did
so
many
others
–
so
many
of
those
who
died
in
the
nineteen
fifties.
They
should
have
put
“Killed
in
Action”
on
their
graves.
It
would
have
been
more
honest.
All
part
of
the
price
this
country
paid.’

She
remembered
his
wife
was
dead,
but
found
she
had
no
memory
of
his
children,
whether
he
had
any
or
what
had
become
of
them.
'The
Trust
owes
so
much
to
you.’

'It
went
down
after
your
father's
death
–
even
before Gregory
went
off
to
Australia.
I
did
my
best
for
your
father's
sake,
but
I
was
working
hard
to
build
up
the
practice
in
those
years.
I
hardly
ever
saw
Emily
or
the
girls.
It
seemed
the
right
thing
to
do,
at
the
time.’
He
paused,
and
then
began
again
as
if
remembering
what
he
had
intended
to
say.
'Maitland's
made
the
difference.’
He
directed
a
fresh
look
of
speculation
upon
her.
'You'll
find
our
meetings
are
very
much
a
matter
of
routine.
There
isn't
anything
coming
up
of
particular
interest.’

'It's
a
matter
of…staffing,'
she
said.
Of
course,
that
was
why.

The
old
man
jerked
his
hand
up
as
if
to
constrain
her
to silence.
A
touch
of
red
dabbed
each
cheek.
'Oh,
dear,'
he
said.
'The
Trust
still
has
a
role
to
play.
There's
plenty
for
it
still
to
do.’

She
was
perplexed.
'Of
course,
there
is.’

'That's
why
there
mustn't
be
any
breath
of
scandal.’