Read A Quiet Death Online

Authors: Alanna Knight

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Historical Fiction, #Crime Fiction

A Quiet Death (17 page)

BOOK: A Quiet Death
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With a sad smile he added: 'Seems that my services as doctor are well thought of, at least.

Although I had behaved so outrageously, they were prepared to forget the past. All very heartening, Stepfather, especially as they have seen fit to accompany their goodwill towards me with a substantial rise in salary.

'I was very touched when the old man said there was no one they would rather have seen Rachel marry, as he thought very highly of me both as a doctor and as a young man with excellent qualities.'

He darted a look at Faro. 'Are you pleased? I was.' And without waiting for an answer: 'I am now a constant visitor to Deane Hall, free to use the library too. You would love that. Once a week I go and examine Sir Arnold, listen to his heart and that sort of thing. Then afterwards I have dinner with Wilfred and a game of billiards or a hand at cards. Who would have thought it?'

Who indeed, wondered Faro somewhat cynically, feeling uncharitable for his newly aroused suspicions that Vince too might have been bought by Deane's. Hiding his thoughts, he merely smiled, remarking that he had recently encountered Wilfred Deane on Princes Street on his way to a business meeting.

'Yes, I gather he comes fairly often, so he has very good reasons for wishing that accursed bridge was complete.'

'So he said.'

'He didn't mention me?' Vince asked.

'We were both in a hurry, we only had time to exchange the civilities.'

Faro would not easily forget his reaction to recognising Deane emerging from a carriage outside the Royal British Hotel. That familiar figure jolted him back to their last unhappy meeting and wishing heartily that this encounter could be avoided, he realised that this was impossible. Since one had to step aside to allow the other passage, a lack of acknowledgement would have amounted to rudeness.

It had to be said for Deane that Faro saw in his fleeting expression of annoyance and even embarrassment, an equal eagerness to avoid this meeting. But the politenesses had to be observed.

Both men bowed, raised their hats, wished each other good day, enquired earnestly about each other's health and agreed that the weather was abominable.

Deane went further. He felt obliged to explain: 'I am here for a meeting with our Edinburgh shareholders. More frequently than I would wish with that infernally tedious train journey in both directions.'

But each saw in the other's face how even indirect reference to the unfinished Tay Bridge touched unpleasant memories. And it was with considerable relief that they bowed and parted once more.

Vince sighed. The fact that we both loved Rachel is a bond between us. It keeps her alive for us.' His eyes suddenly filled and he shook his head. 'I'm not in any danger of ever forgetting her. As I told you, I see her everywhere. At first—after the funeral, I was in a daze, those early days.

'Can you imagine, I used to follow perfectly innocent young ladies in the Overgait, terrified them by my approaches. I just wanted to speak to them, be comforted, if you like, because there was something, the way they walked, or the set of a bonnet, a laugh or a cloud of dark hair that reminded me of Rachel. Even such glimpses were oddly consoling. I can see now that I was always searching—and will continue to do so, alas, for that lost happiness.'

He shrugged apologetically. 'I know this isn't making sense, Stepfather.'

It was Faro's turn to be sympathetic. He knew all about such reactions as a phenomenon of loss, and had entertained a persistent belief that Lizzie must still be alive somewhere if he could only find her again.

'After your dear mother died, lad, I found myself looking for her in shops, walking down the High Street, haunting crowded places, staring into strangers' faces, just longing to see someone who reminded me of her so that I might relive a tiny fragment of our life together.'

'That's it exactly. I thought I was going mad.' Vince sounded relieved. 'Does the search ever end, I wonder? At the moment, I imagine going on to the end of my days trying to find someone exactly like her and yet knowing deep down that I never will.'

They were interrupted by Mrs Brook's arrival to draw the curtains and attend to the fire. When she departed Vince told him about the wedding at St Giles and added: There is something I have promised McGonagall. I must find time for this.'

He took from his pocket a brooch in a velvet case. 'This belonged to his grandmother who was Kathleen's great-aunt.'

The brooch was of diamond and pearl in the shape of a shamrock. 'I suspect it's been the lifeline of the McGonagalls, in and out of pawn, but things are looking up now and he wants Kathleen to have it. Says it will bring her luck. Have you seen the shop, by the way?'

'Aye, and very smart it is too. Prosperous. She should do well in there.'

When next day Vince returned from visiting the Rose Street shop Faro was very glad he had kept his suspicions about Kathleen's modest establishment to himself. His stepson, at least, was oblivious to any interesting possibilities as to how she might have suddenly acquired a thriving millinery business.

Faro wondered if in fact Vince was aware that Kathleen was the owner not the employee when his thoughts were diverted by a happy glow long absent from Vince's countenance.

'I must say, Stepfather, that she is quite a stunner. I was quite captivated. I'm only sorry we did not meet earlier, when she was in Dundee,' he added ruefully.

And Faro that night felt more cheerful than had been the case for many a day, for Vince could talk of nothing but the fair Kathleen.

'I should have liked to have taken her to the wedding. I fancy she would have enjoyed that. She would have been a sensation in one of her delicious bonnets too. Oh, incidentally, there was one familiar face. Remember Dr Ramsey?'

'I do indeed. The dour young police surgeon at Dundee.'

'The same. He was Sam's best man. Seems they are cousins. And let me tell you, away from those doleful surroundings, he is anything but dour, quite the contrary.

'As for the fair Kathleen, I haven't much time now but I'm hoping to be better organised when next I come home for a weekend. And, of course, there is always the possibility of her visiting Paton's Lane to see the McGonagalls. She did mention that.'

Faro was intrigued. 'I should very much like to meet her.'

'And so you shall, Stepfather. I thought we might have luncheon at the Café Royal before I leave.'

Faro had a table near the window and as the couple approached and he shook hands with Kathleen he suppressed a smile. His first impression was that Vince had in fact succeeded in his search. Whether consciously or not, he had found a girl who reminded him of his lost love.

True, on closer acquaintance he realised that any resemblance to Rachel Deane, whom he had met so briefly and under somewhat trying circumstances, was quite superficial. And during the meal it faded completely as he studied this pretty girl, so shy and overwhelmed by her surroundings that they had the effect of rendering her almost inarticulate.

When later he mentioned those first impressions, Vince shook his head firmly. 'They are not in the least alike, Stepfather. But I do know what you mean. Perhaps that's what attracted me to her when we first met. I can't explain it, except that they are basically the same type, rather than anything more definite.

'I had only seen her photograph at Willie McGonagall's and that was taken when she was very young. She's much prettier now.'

A now buoyant Vince departed for Dundee, leaving his stepfather gratified by promises of fairly regular visits home in future, for which Vince was even prepared to endure cheerfully that abominable train journey. To be near his new love, thought Faro, seeing through any other excuses Vince had readily available.

And so the day came when Vince threw casually into the conversation that he was seriously considering the possibility of a situation in Edinburgh again.

As Faro suspected, the fair Kathleen was the main reason.

'Who knows, Stepfather, perhaps in the not too distant future I may be able to achieve the circumstances which would allow me the right credentials to set up successfully as a family doctor,' he added with a shy smile.

'Are congratulations in order?' Faro asked, his first feeling of delight mingled with gratitude that Vince was making a spectacular recovery from his tragic infatuation for Rachel Deane.

Chapter Fifteen

 

To Faro's question regarding his intentions, Vince grinned sheepishly. 'A bit early for that, Stepfather. But I have hopes. I mean, Kathleen is always glad to see me, never refuses an invitation. And of course, the McGonagalls would be delighted.'

'Scarcely a valid reason for choosing a wife, is it, lad?'

'I know that perfectly well, Stepfather. I haven't asked the lady formally but her attitude has given me every reason to believe she will accept me.'

Observing Faro's veiled glance, he added hastily: 'No, no, Stepfather. Nothing like that. No unbridled passion this time. This is quite a different courtship, if that's what I might call it. And I'm very glad it is so. All very proper and up to now nothing more has been exchanged between us than a chaste goodnight kiss—on the cheek. But,' he added cheerfully, 'sometimes I suspect—and hope, dammit—that my chaste fair Kathleen has hidden fires.'

Faro received this information on the progress of Vince's courtship with mixed feelings. Did the cautious reserve on Kathleen's side involve the ownership of the milliner's shop and confirm his own suspicions regarding the possibility of a protector, a secret lover?

Vince was smiling happily. 'I'm glad that there has been this restraint between us. It has given me time to sort out my own feelings. I shouldn't like Kathleen to discover—or even to imagine for one moment—that she was my second choice.'

'Does she know about Rachel?'

Vince shook his head. 'I didn't consider that was necessary.'

The likelihood that he himself was a second choice had not occurred to Vince's unsuspicious nature. Direct and honest in his dealings, if he had a fault it was to believe that as he always spoke truth, then so too did others.

'I shall certainly tell her, if she consents to be my wife. That would only be proper.'

'I detect a certain reluctance. Are you afraid that your unhappy love affair might influence her?'

'At this stage, perhaps I am.' And with a heartfelt sigh, 'Let's face it, Stepfather, I can now see quite clearly that whatever my feelings about Rachel and hers about me, marriage between us would have been a complete disaster. Her fits of unreason—insanity, let's give it an honest name—were going to get worse.'

He paused and then added, 'The heightened emotions and physical demands of married life would have increased her instability. In such cases the bearing of children is a further hazard, quite capable of throwing the young mother over the edge.

'This is not conjecture on my part, it is alas a proven medical fact, and something not at all infrequent in unbalanced young women. Paul Ramsey, my new friend, lent me a very interesting book on the subject just last week.'

Was this all Vince needed to prove to himself that he had loved not wisely but too well, thought Faro cynically?

'There would have been little in the way of family life for us and a sad bleak prospect for any children we might have brought into the world. We would have been wise to make the decision to remain childless and I know now that willing as I was to marry her, eager for her to be my wife, my role would have been increasingly that of attendant, doctor rather than husband.'

As Vince left for Dundee, Faro said: 'Let me know in time when you are coming again and I'll drop in a note inviting Kathleen to dinner.'

'What a splendid idea.'

From Faro's point of view, hoping for a glimpse of Kathleen's hidden fires, that evening two weeks later was unremarkable and even, for him, a little boring.

Kathleen again seemed overwhelmed by her surroundings and spent a lot of time gazing around her and admiring the furniture. Otherwise he found her once again more inarticulate than he thought accountable from shyness and a certain awe of Vince's famous stepfather.

Reserved and retiring in company, with little to say for herself, Kathleen was also, Faro reminded himself, the shrewd business woman, whether as manager or owner of the Rose Street establishment.

That second meeting also confirmed her lack of sexual attraction. He realised from his limited experience that apparently shy women are capable of stripping off a colourless personality with their garments once the bedroom door is closed. But in Kathleen's case, the idea of her being anyone's secret mistress became increasingly absurd as the evening dragged to its weary close.

Only once did he succeed in raising her animation. In the drawing room was a grand piano belonging to the previous owner of the house, which Faro had acquired with other furniture. Apart from his daughters' visits when they taxed its grandeur with scales and pianoforte exercises, it remained untouched.

Observing that on several occasions Kathleen's wistful glance had strayed towards it, he asked in sudden hope: 'Do you play?'

She shrugged. 'A little and not well.'

'Mr McGonagall mentioned that you sang very sweetly and were very talented,' Faro said encouragingly.

BOOK: A Quiet Death
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