He said, "How very kind of you to invite me."
"It would be best if we kept it very casual… as though, for some reason, you were coming anyway." She thought about this, and then her face lit up with bright inspiration. "Of course. The Steyn-tons' dance. What could be more natural than that? I know Alexa is in two minds about coming, but…"
"She said she wouldn't go without me and of course I haven't had an invitation."
"That's no problem. I'll have a word with Verena Steynton. There are never enough men at these affairs. She'll be delighted."
"You may have to persuade Alexa."
As he said this, Alexa came back into the room, bearing a pink-and-white jug in which she had loosely arranged Noel's offering. "Are you talking about me behind my back?" She put the jug on the table behind the sofa. "Don't those look lovely? You are kind, Noel. It makes me feel special, being brought flowers." She fiddled with a stray carnation, and then abandoned the arrangement and returned to her seat in the corner of the sofa. "Persuade Alexa to do what?"
"Come to the Steyntons' dance," said Virginia, "and bring Noel with you. I'll fix an invitation for him. And stay with us at Balnaid."
"But perhaps Noel doesn't want to go."
"I never said I didn't want to go."
"You did so!" Alexa was indignant. "The morning the invitation came you said tribal dances were scarcely your scene. I thought that was the end of the matter."
"We never really discussed it."
"You mean you would come?"
"If you want me to, of course."
Alexa shook her head in disbelief. "But Noel, it will be tribal dances. Reels and things. Could you bear that? It's no fun if you can't do them."
"I'm not totally inexperienced. That year I fished in Sutherland, there was a hooley in the hotel one evening and we all leaped around like savages, and as far as I remember, I leaped with the best of them. A couple of whiskies are all I need to lose my inhibitions."
Virginia laughed. "Well, if it all becomes too much for the poor man, I'm sure there'll be a night-club or a disco, so he can go and smooch in there." She stubbed out her cigarette. "What do you say, Alexa?"
"There doesn't seem to be much for me to say. Between the two of you, you've fixed the whole thing up."
"In that case, that's our little dilemma solved."
"What little dilemma?"
"Noel casually meeting Edmund."
"Oh. I see."
"Don't look so miserable. It's the perfect plan." She glanced at the clock, laid down her glass. "I must go."
Noel got to his feet. "Can I drive you somewhere?"
"No. You're sweet, but if you could find me a taxi, that would be great…"
While he was gone on this errand, Virginia put her shoes back on, checked on her beautiful hairdo, reached for her scarlet jacket. Fastening the buttons, she caught Alexa's anxious gaze and smiled encouragingly.
"Don't worry about a thing. I'll make it okay for you before you've even set foot in the house."
"But you and Fa. You won't still be having a row, will you? I couldn't bear it if there was a hateful atmosphere with the two of you being angry with each other."
"No, of course not. Forget that. I shouldn't have told you in the first place. We'll have a great time. And your being there will cheer me up after poor Henry's gone to school."
"Poor little boy. I can't bear to think about it."
"Like I said, neither can I. However, there doesn't seem to be much either of us can do about it." They kissed. "Thank you for the drink."
"Thank you for coming. And for being so marvellous. You… you do like him, don't you, Virginia?"
"I think he's dishy. You'll answer the invitation now?"
"Of course."
"And, Alexa, buy yourself a peachy new dress."
5
Thursday the Twenty-fifth
Edmund Aird drove his BMW into the car-park of Edinburgh Airport just as the seven-o'clock shuttle from London drifted down out of the clouds and lined up for landing. Unhurriedly, he found a slot for himself, got out of the car and locked the door, watching, as he did so, the approach of the plane. He had timed things exactly, and this gave him much satisfaction… Standing around and waiting, for any thing or anybody, filled him with impatience. Every moment of time was precious, and to fill in so much as five minutes kicking his heels and doing nothing caused him considerable frustration and anguish.
He walked through the car-park, crossed the road, entered the terminal. The aircraft, with Virginia on board, had landed. A number of people stood around, come to meet friends or relations. They were a mixed bunch and appeared to be either in a state of wild excitement or total unconcern. A young mother with three small children milling noisily around her knees lost her patience and slapped one of them. The child roared in indignation. The carousel began to move. Edmund stood jingling the loose change in his trouser pocket.
"Edmund."
He turned to see a man he met most days lunching at the New Club. "Hello, there."
"Who are you meeting?"
"Virginia."
"I've come to pick up my daughter and her two children. They're coming to stay for a week. There's some wedding on and the wee girl's going to be a bridesmaid. At least the plane's on time. I caught the three-o'clock shuttle from Heathrow last week and we didn't take off until half past five."
"I know. It's hell, isn't it?"
The doors at the top of the stairway had opened, the first trickle of passengers started to descend. Some searched for the one who had come to meet them; some looked lost and anxious, laden by too much hand-luggage. There was the usual proportion of businessmen returning from London conferences and meetings, complete with brief-cases, umbrellas, folded newspapers. One, quite unselfconsciously, bore a sheaf of red roses.
Edmund watched them, waiting for Virginia. His appearance, tall and elegantly suited, his demeanour, the heavily lidded eyes and expressionless features gave nothing away, and a stranger observing him would glean no clue as to his inner uncertainties. For the truth was that Edmund could not be sure either of his welcome from Virginia, nor what her reactions would be when she saw him standing there.
Relations between them, ever since the evening he had broken the news of his plans for sending Henry away to school, had been painfully strained. They had never had a row before, never quarrelled, and although he was a man who could exist very well without other people's approval, he was bored by the whole business, longed for a truce, and for this chill politeness that lay between them to come to an end and be finally finished.
He was not hopeful. As soon as the Strathcroy Primary had broken up for the summer, Virginia had packed Henry up and taken him to Devon to stay there with her parents for three long weeks. Edmund had hoped that this extended separation would somehow heal the wounds and bring Virginia's sulks to an end, but the holiday, spent in the company of her beloved child, appeared only to have hardened her attitude, and she returned home to Balnaid as cool as ever.
For a limited time, Edmund could deal with this, but he knew that the chill atmosphere that existed between them did not go unnoticed by Henry. He had become uncommunicative, prone to easy tears, and more dependent than ever on his precious Moo. Edmund hated Moo. He found it offensive that his son was still unable to sleep without that disgusting old scrap of baby blanket. He had been suggesting for some months that Virginia should wean Henry from Moo, but Virginia, as far as he could see, had ignored his advice. Now, with only weeks to go before Henry left for Templehall, she was going to have her work cut out.