Fine Lines - SA (20 page)

"No, thank you." There was an awkward silence. "Wel , I'd better see to dinner," Anna said, giving me an apologetic glance. She went into the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone.

"We might as wel sit down," I said, pleasantly. I lowered myself on to the sofa. Westerman sat stiffly opposite me. I wondered if he ever relaxed. He showed no indication of doing so now. Neither of us spoke. I felt it was his turn to attempt conversation, and waited for him to say something. However, he showed no inclination of saying anything ever again. As the silence grew, so did my annoyance, and I was tempted to play him at his own game. If not for Anna, I would have. But she was depending on me to help her through a difficult evening, and I would hardly be doing that if I behaved as badly as Marty's father. For her sake I had to be sociable.

Etiquette, about which Westerman clearly cared little, demanded I make some reference to his son. "I was glad to hear that the police are final y doing something to find Marty."

"It's high time someone did." His criticism seemed too broad-spectrumed for my liking. "Yes, Anna had a devil of a job trying to convince anyone to help. That's why we had to resort to hiring a private detective."

"I met him. I thought he was amateurish. Now the police are taking a hand there's no point him getting in their way." There was no trace of apology or gratitude in his voice, and he had the irritating habit of not looking at me when he spoke. His remarks were addressed to a blank space in front of him. "Wel , it saves me further expense, I suppose. I received his bil yesterday. Amateurish or not, he wasn't cheap."

"Then I guess you'l be glad you don't have to hire him any more.

Although whether your police wil be any more effective, I wouldn't like to say." The way he said 'your police' implied that shared nationality meant shared liability. My dislike of the man was growing by the second.

"How long are you planning to stay?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I have to be back in ten days. I'm supposed to be running a business, as Marty's wel aware. I don't have time for distractions like this.

But under the circumstances there didn't seem to be much choice." So his resentment extended to his missing son. If he was concerned about him as wel , he was making a good job of hiding it. I made another attempt to be civil. "I know you're a businessman, but I'm afraid I don't know anything more specific than that. What field are you in?"

"Bathroom accessories."

"Is that retail or wholesale?"

"Both."

"Wel , I hope the American economy is in a better state than ours.

We're in something of a recession over here, at present."

"So I hear."

"Is business quite good?"

"It's better when I can stay and run it."

I abandoned any further efforts to draw him out, and instead tried to establish at least the pretence of common ground.

"Yes, I know what you mean. I'm a businessman myself I smiled depreciatingly. "Wel , if you can cal running a gal ery business. I'm an art dealer."

"I know." He clearly had no intention of helping me with the conversation. And I had nothing left to offer except insults. I held them in check and made one last attempt. Hopeful y in a subject even he would not snub.

"I think Anna's taken al this quite wel . It must have been very hard on her."

"It's been very hard on a lot of people. Including Marty's mother and myself."

"Yes, I imagine it must be. How is Mrs. Westerman taking it?" Westerman looked briefly at me before returning his gaze to whatever it was that was occupying it. "As wel as can be expected. Neither of us wanted him to come here in the first place. American universities were good enough for his brother and sister, I don't see why they weren't for him. And now I've had to come and chase after him because he's had a spat with his girlfriend." This was the first mention of Marty's other family. It was also the first indication of his father's feelings about his disappearance.

"Is that why you think he left?"

"I can't think of any other reason. According to his tutors, his work at the university was progressing wel . He'd no financial problems. He was always emotional y stable in the past. So why else would he walk out?" I felt obliged to object. "I don't know, obviously. But Anna says they hadn't argued at al ." His mouth twisted slightly. It could have been a smile. "So she claims." I knew I was arguing against my own interests, but I could not let that pass. "I hardly think Anna would lie about something like that." He permitted himself another brief glance at me. "So you think it was just a coincidence that this happened just before he came back to America with an English girl he'd only known for a matter of months? I'm afraid I find that hard to believe."

"From what I saw of them, they seemed very happy together."

"Then why did he leave?" Of course, I had no answer to that. I should have been pleased that Westerman had so readily accepted the obvious explanation, but his implied slur on Anna infuriated me. Neither of us spoke again until Anna came in and announced that dinner was ready.

It was a dismal affair. Anna did her best to keep a conversation running, and out of consideration for her I tried as wel . But Westerman steadfastly refused to be drawn into it. I began to wonder why he had come at al . He ate mechanical y and sparingly, speaking only when a direct question was asked of him, and even then answering in monosyl ables whenever possible. Eventual y, Anna had nothing left to say, and I could think of nothing to help her. The meal continued in complete silence, broken only by the scrape and tinkle of cutlery.

Only Marty's father seemed indifferent to it, as though such awkwardness were his natural environment. If he was always so bad mannered, I could wel imagine it was.

"Coffee?" Anna asked, after dessert was over. Westerman had been the last to finish eating, unconcernedly taking his time while Anna and I sat and waited for him. I expected and hoped he would refuse. There seemed little point in him staying.

He dabbed his lips with the napkin. "I take it black, without sugar."

"I'l help you clear the table," I said to Anna.

Once the kitchen door had closed she leaned against the wal and puffed out her cheeks. "God. I'm real y sorry about this. If I'd any idea it was going to be this bad, I wouldn't have asked you."

"Nonsense. No one should have to suffer that man by themselves for an entire evening."

"It's not your problem, though. You shouldn't have to put up with it."

"Neither should you. I knew what he was like when I accepted." I tried to make light of it. "Besides, it's an experience I wouldn't have missed. It's not every day you can have dinner with the most unpleasant man in the world."

"He's not much fun, is he?"

"I'm afraid not." We grinned at each other like conspirators.

"It's times like this when I wish I kept rat poison. Do you think he'd notice if I put any in his coffee?"

"He might not, but everyone else would think it was a distinct improvement."

We began giggling, trying to smother it so the sound would not be heard in the next room. Suddenly the door opened. Wcs-term an stared at us coldly.

"Am I interrupting something?" Anna's laughter died immediately. But she could not keep from smiling as she wiped tears from her eyes. "No, not at al . I'm sorry, we were just

"I was tel ing her about something that happened at the gal ery," I explained, rescuing her.

Marty's father looked from one of us to the other, then at neither as he spoke. "I came in to tel you not to bother with the coffee on my account. It's late. If you'l cal a cab for me, I'l leave you to enjoy your anecdotes in peace." Anna went through the motions of persuasion. "Are you sure you won't stay for a cup?"

"No, thank you." He turned and went back into the lounge. We fol owed him. He stood in the centre of the room while Anna ordered a cab.

"By the way," he said, when she had hung up, "I spoke to the university today. I told them they could let someone else use Marty's room. They offered to save it for him, but I told them not to bother. I couldn't see any reason why they should do that when he hadn't even had the decency to tel them he was leaving." Anna looked appal ed. "You can't do that!"

"I already have."

"But what about al his books? And his research? Al his files, his notes and everything are there! What's going to happen to them?" Westerman was untouched by Anna's consternation. "Frankly, I don't care. If Marty comes back soon he can claim them. Or you can col ect them, if you want to. Failing that, unless some sympathetic tutor decides to store them for him, I guess they'l be thrown out. That's what I advised, at least."

"You'd got no right to do that!" Anna had gone red.

"I'd got every right. I'm his father. If Marty's going to be irresponsible, then like it or not it's down to me to sort out his affairs as I see fit."

"But there's three years' worth of work there! More!"

"If it was so important he shouldn't have left it. And since he did, he can hardly expect other people to look after it until he decides to show up. If I was the head of his department I'd burn it al right now. But I suppose they're too liberal-minded to do anything like that."

"I can't believe you're serious!" Anna almost shouted. "He's your son, for God's sake! How can you be so bloody cal ous? Marty's gone missing, and you want to burn his work? What sort of a father are you?"

"The sort who has to cross the Atlantic to sort out the mess his son left behind when he decided to run away."

"Run away?" Anna seemed about to attack him. "Marty's missing, can't you understand that? He's not a … a spoilt little kid who's hiding in the wardrobe! He's disappeared! No one knows where he is, or what's happened to him, and you're acting like he's done it to spite you!" I had never seen Anna so angry. Never believed she could be.

Westerman, on the other hand, appeared perfectly calm. "I might not know where he is now, but the reason he went is pretty obvious."

"Now just a - I began, but Anna could not have heard me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"It means I don't think we have to look any further than this room."

"You mean he left because of me?"

"I can't see any other reason. And after this display, that seems more than enough." Anna stared at him. When she spoke her voice was low and throaty with emotion. "How dare you!

How dare you! What right have you got to come here and say that? Who the hel do you think you are?"

"I'm his father, that's - '

"Then why don't you start acting like it?" she snapped. "Show some bloody concern for a change! You act like you're not even interested in what's happened to him! Al you seem bothered about is the

"inconvenience" he's caused, and getting back to your ... your stupid little company! And you've got the nerve to stand there and tel me it was my fault Marty left? Christ, how would you know? You're one of the reasons he came here in the first place. If anyone drove Marty away it was you, years ago!"

There was silence. The area around Westerman's nose was white. "I think I'l wait outside for the cab." Anna was trembling. Her flush had died, leaving her face pale. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"If you would be so kind as to fetch my coat." Without another word, Anna went to get it. Westerman and I stood without looking at each other. Anna came back and handed it to him.

"Thank you. I'l see myself out." I thought Anna was going to say something else, but she remained silent. Westerman went into the kitchen. We heard the front door open and close.

"Oh, shit!" Anna said. She looked about to burst into tears. "Excuse me." She almost ran out of the lounge. I heard her lock herself in the bathroom.

After a while I poured myself a brandy and sat down to wait.

It was some time later before she came back. Her face had been scrubbed clean of make-up. Her eyes looked red. She sat down, giving me a weak smile.

"Wel . That wasn't exactly a rip-roaring success, was it?" I went to pour her a drink. "That was hardly your fault. That man has to be one of the most obnoxious people I have ever met." She bit her lip, fretful y. "I shouldn't have said that to him, though. About Marty."

"I don't see why you should feel bad about it. The man showed no concern for your feelings."

"I know, but ... wel , I just wish I hadn't. Things are bad enough between him and Marty without me making it worse like that."

"I stil think he asked for it. He was the one being unfair. Al you did was defend yourself." She didn't answer. She rested her head back on the chair, looking tired. "I'd better get in touch with the university tomorrow. I don't want them throwing anything out."

"I'm sure they won't do that. Certainly not just on his say-so. I dare say whoever he spoke to is capable of seeing for himself what sort of a man he is."

"I hope so. I think I'l stil give them a cal , though." Her face contorted. "How could he do something like that?"

"Perhaps it's his way of punishing Marty for the "inconvenience"."

"The inconvenience," she echoed. "God, I wish that's al it was." Abruptly, she stood up. "Wel , I better clean everything up. Thanks for coming, Donald. I'm sorry it was such a rotten evening."

"At least the food was good." She smiled, politely, but did not respond to the compliment. It was obvious she wanted to be alone. I offered to help with the washing up out of courtesy, but was not surprised when she refused. I said goodnight and left.

Despite Anna's views on the subject, in my opinion the evening had by no means been al bad. As much as I despised Wester-man, I was stil realistic enough to realise that his prejudice was perhaps the best thing that could have happened. Particularly if he communicated it to the police. He was over for another ten days. Provided nothing untoward was discovered during that time, I could not see the investigation carrying on for long afterwards. Cautiously, I al owed myself the luxury of optimism once again.