False Charity (11 page)

Noel took a seat, leaning back, hands in pockets, not a care in the world. ‘Am I late? I took the receptionist to lunch, didn't I? Nice place, you'd like it.'

‘Noel!' She tried to keep calm. ‘We were worried sick!'

He examined his perfect fingernails. ‘I thought it could go on expenses. The little chick was all over me. I didn't give her the cheque for the hotel until I dropped her off, so they can't get it into the bank today. There's been no hue and cry yet. The barman had only just started work at the hotel, and no one knew much about him. They were livid when he didn't turn up this morning. Short staffed, it seems. They haven't even got round to reporting him missing yet. In a couple of days we'll be out of here, with different names. There's nothing to worry about.'

He drew a stack of envelopes out of his breast pocket. ‘I called round the shop in the Grove on the way back. The usual. More requests for tickets for Saturday, cheques, dunning letters.'

He held them up, just out of Richie's reach. Richie tried to take them, and Noel pulled his hand back, laughing.

Lena said, ‘That's enough, Noel. You're such a child, sometimes.' But her tone was indulgent, and both men understood what that meant.

Wednesday, evening

D
own the steps from the sitting room came Max, dressed in a suit despite the heat of the summer's evening. His eyes looked anxious, but he dispensed approving smiles all round before bending over Bea to give her a hug and kiss her cheek.

‘I see you've found the domestic staff. Mother, I must speak to you.' His eyes were on Piers, who looked as if he were wishing himself elsewhere.

Bea hoped Max wasn't going to make a scene as she didn't think she could cope. She said, ‘How long is it since you two met?'

Max said, ‘He used to come to school to watch me bat, the year I was captain of cricket, but he never spoke. Hamilton pointed him out to me.'

Piers got to his feet. ‘I was in the House of Commons when you made your maiden speech, too. Do we shake hands, do you think?'

Max coloured up, but put out his hand to shake.

Bea tried not to grin. ‘Too, too British, both of you. Max, have you eaten? Piers, pour him a drink.'

‘Not wine,' said Max. ‘I have to go back to the House soon. Mother, may I have a word in private?'

‘Of course, dear.' She handed him a sausage in a roll and led the way up the stairs to the sitting room, cool and shadowy in the early evening.

Max followed, holding the hot dog as if it were burning his fingers. ‘Mother, it's so good to have you back, you've no idea how much I've missed you and Hamilton. I keep thinking that I can ask him something and then remembering that I can't. And now there seems to have been some sort of misunderstanding about the house, which is quite ridiculous. Poor Nicole doesn't know whether she's coming or going.'

Oh yeah? thought Bea.

‘I don't know what to say to her. I thought it was all settled, and I still think it's the best solution for all concerned. Not least for you. Hamilton was so worried about how you'd cope without him. He asked me to look after you, to see that you didn't fall to pieces …'

As if I would! thought Bea. And then, Well, maybe I could, if I allowed myself to.

‘… and so we arranged, he and I, what should happen if, when, well, you know. He did hope to get back to England, but he knew he'd never be able to run the business again. I said I'd do whatever he wanted …' He looked around for somewhere to put his hot dog, and deposited it on the mantelpiece next to Hamilton's photograph.

Piers came into the room and sat by the window with his glass of wine.

Max gave Piers an uneasy glance, but continued. ‘… And that's what I did. I went down to the South Coast on three separate occasions and looked for the sort of accommodation Hamilton had in mind near to a golf course, and I got Nicole to come with me the last time and we selected a couple of places which were just what Hamilton said he wanted, and now—'

Bea interrupted. ‘Dear, dear Max. You've been to such a lot of trouble for me, but my dear boy, you should have talked to me about it first. Those nice quiet places on the South Coast aren't at all my thing. I'm a city girl, Max. I'd die of boredom down there.'

Max swallowed. ‘I hear what you're saying, and of course I respect it. But as Nicole says, it's come as a bit of a shock to learn that you're going to throw out everything Hamilton wanted for you.'

‘Wanted for himself, dear. Not the same thing. If he'd lived, I'd have gone along with it because he was very dear to me and I knew he was on his way out. I never said I didn't like the idea when he was alive because I wouldn't have hurt him for the world, but now, I can.'

Max rubbed his eyes. ‘I can see that. It's just that when I mentioned it to Nicole she thought it solved all our problems. She's been so excited, making plans for the future. It still seems to me that … though of course I see your point of view … but I don't like to disappoint Nicole. It's going to be so hard for her if she has to start looking for another place, and what we could afford wouldn't be anything like this. You do see how I'm placed, don't you, Mother?'

‘Nicole must find you a place that she can do up to her own taste. I love this house and I can afford to live in it for the time being, so that's what I'll do. Long term, I really don't know.'

‘You know Hamilton thought the world of you, and was really worried that you'd be taken for a ride when you were all alone, and lonely.' He didn't actually look in Piers' direction, but Bea got the message.

Piers snorted into his drink. ‘Hamilton asked me to look after her, too. And here I am, rather against my better judgment, I must say. To be frank, Bea, I'm almost of the same mind as Max. Are you sure this big house with all its memories, isn't going to be a burden to you, rather than a pleasure?'

Bea thought about that. The house had four bedrooms, and she'd be occupying only one of them in future, with a creepily dark basement below. She'd arrived home to a houseful of people but in a few days' time it would be just her, rattling around in a too-quiet house, with all its memories of Hamilton still in place. How long could she stand that?

Then a house needed constant maintenance. The garden would need caring for; that sycamore tree ought to be lopped again. The basement needed redecorating. Possibly rewiring. Wouldn't she be better off, not have so many cares, if she moved into a little flat? Not on the South Coast, of course, but somewhere else in Kensington?

Coral had come to stand in the doorway, unseen and unheard. She said, ‘What about me? If you two have your way, I can say goodbye to my money, my daughter will be homeless, and Oliver and Maggie will be thrown on the street.'

Max shook his head. ‘Coral, it's sad but true that you've made your bed and must lie in it. My mother couldn't possibly take Hamilton's place in the agency.'

‘I second that,' said Piers, downing the last of his wine.

Bea didn't know what to think. She was annoyed that Max believed her incapable of running the agency, even though the thought of the effort involved gave her indigestion. If Hamilton had been here, would he really have wanted her to move into a happy retirement home? And if she did, what would she do with herself all day?

Well, what was the alternative?

What she wanted more than anything was to go to bed and lie there watching television, with someone bringing her drinks and tasty foods every now and then. She could afford it, couldn't she? Hamilton had made sure of that, what with investments and insurances and pension plans, and so on and so forth.

She didn't want to move to the seaside and play golf. Not her scene at all. Besides, if she did that, she'd lose touch with all her old friends. Like Coral, who knew her better than any of the people in their social circle. Coral had known her since she was a bedraggled divorcee with a small child in tow, desperately trying to make ends meet by cooking and waitressing while taking an IT course in the evenings.

She didn't want to let Coral down. Or those two awkward children, Maggie and Oliver, who had now joined Coral to look at her with wide, beseeching eyes. Where would they go, and what would they do, if she turned them out? Did she have the strength to fight their battles for them? Wouldn't helping them out only be one way of staving off the loneliness which threatened to overwhelm her the moment she stopped thinking about something else?

Well, Maggie would land on her feet. But Oliver? No, probably not.

‘Max,' she said, ‘I'm really touched that you've been worrying about me so much. It makes me feel much less lost. Since Hamilton …' She stopped for a moment, fighting a desire to burst into tears. ‘Since he died, I've concentrated on getting back home in one piece, and I've made it. I'm not sure what I do want to do with the rest of my life but I do know that I don't want to go and live by the seaside and play golf. Perhaps I will want to one day. I don't know. I can't see into the future. So for the time being, I think I'd better just stay here and tidy up the remains of the agency and just give myself time. Right?'

‘Hear, hear,' said Piers, emptying the last of the bottle into his glass. ‘You always were a sensible little thing, Bea. Is there another bottle somewhere?'

That made her laugh. She, sensible? She didn't feel it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coral make wafting movements to Maggie and Oliver, edging them out of the room.

Max stood with his legs slightly apart, head forward. Max was thinking up his next argument. Max was not going to give up easily.

She went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Dear Max. What would I do without your support? You always were a kind, loving little boy, and you've grown into a fine man, a real prop and stay for your poor old mother, who doesn't know what she'd do without you. Now I want you to stop worrying about me for the moment, and concentrate on finding somewhere for yourself and Nicole to live. Oh, and …' she'd just remembered. ‘… some woman came here to see you about a cleaning job. She said she was going to try to track you down at the House. I hope she isn't going to be embarrassing.'

‘They don't let people in that easily.' He put his arm around her in a fierce hug and then, probably feeling he'd demonstrated too much affection, let her go. Glanced at his watch. Busy, busy. I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date.

Bea's tired mind, continued, No time to say hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.

He said, ‘I have to go. I'll try to explain everything to Nicole. I do understand what you're saying, and perhaps you're right and you ought not to do anything in a hurry, but … when Nicole's got an idea in her head, she's not the easiest person to … no, no. I'm sure she'll understand, too. In the long run. I'll try, anyway.' He aimed a kiss at her forehead, missed, and left.

Only after he'd gone did Bea remember she'd meant to ask him about her car.

‘Anyone for coffee?' Maggie came into the room bearing all the paraphernalia for coffee for five people. The coffee table which had been used to stand before the cream leather settee, had vanished. As – Bea realized with a frown – had the good table in the window on which Hamilton had been accustomed to play patience. She felt another surge of fatigue.

Piers took hold of her elbow. ‘Do you want to go back to bed, or call a conference?'

A conference? Was he mad? Or was she?

Prompted by him, her mind cleared. ‘Maggie, let's take the coffee downstairs, shall we? Into the office. We'll keep all the paperwork there.'

She half expected Piers to make some excuse and disappear but he helped Maggie carry the tray down the stairs, and settled himself into a corner of the settee. Bea seated herself in Hamilton's chair, noting with pleasure that his computer was now back where it used to be. Or rather, a newer model now sat on her desk, which gave her bad vibes. Would she be able to cope with it?

Coral sat opposite Bea – as client-in-chief. Oliver sat, warily, with some files on his knees. Maggie usurped Bea's function as hostess, poured coffee and handed it round. Bea had to admit that Maggie made an excellent cup of coffee. She irritated Bea no end, but she had her uses.

Everyone looked at Bea, whose mind became completely blank. What on earth was she doing, chairing a meeting on something she knew nothing about?

She stirred a sweetener into her coffee. Maggie nodded at her, giving the cue for her to start the meeting. Bea couldn't think what she was supposed to say. Only a small part of her brain seemed to be in working order.

She said, ‘What I don't understand is … no, let me put it another way. Coral, you know that these people have pulled off a scam twice, using roughly the same format. Do you think they could have tried it on before?'

Piers had managed to acquire paper and pencil and had started to doodle. He said, ‘Doubt it. There's only so many people you can fool into buying tickets and giving money for charity in any one area.'

Bea tried to concentrate. ‘But this is London, and London is enormous. If they target a slightly different audience every time, the number of different people they could reach is huge. Coral, did you recognize any of the same people at both functions?'

‘I'm not sure. Yes, perhaps.'

‘How about if these people don't know they've been fooled, and actually think it's a good thing to throw some money in the way of charity? From their point of view, they had a good night out, ate some decent food and drank some reasonable wine. I assume the wine was drinkable, was it, Coral? Yes? Anyway, they had a good night out, so why shouldn't they turn up again at a similar function?'

Coral tested out this theory. ‘Y-yes, I suppose that would work. The first event wasn't so big. There was no headliner for the entertainment, just a singer who wasn't much cop and a man tinkering on a piano, though he was quite good, I must say. Golden oldies, that sort of thing. Oh, then there was a DJ, very capable but turning the volume up as they do.