Grace Hardie (32 page)

‘It doesn't make any difference to the
fact
of whether he's dead or alive. It's just that we shall have more power to take action for the good of the business.'

‘Yes, I suppose so. What sort of action?'

‘Well, let me tell you some of the problems. One of them is peculiar to the Oxford branch. You must have proved a good saleswoman whilst you were helping out in the High, Grace. Bottles of wine went out of the shop in a most satisfactory manner. The only trouble is that the money to pay for them didn't roll in at quite the same speed.'

‘It was the firm's policy, Mr Witney always said, not to press undergraduates for payment. It wasn't a new idea of his.'

‘I'm sure it wasn't. However, he might have noticed that there was a new element in the situation. For five years the young men who had run up their debts in a traditional manner didn't go on to inherit their father's estates and become lifelong customers in the usual way. They got killed instead.'

‘And all honour –'

‘Oh, yes, yes,' interrupted David. ‘There's no shame to anyone in this. I'm merely pointing out that for five years The House of Hardie has been supplying some of its Oxford customers as though it were a charitable organization. Eventually, of course, it will be rewarded by goodwill; but the immediate effect is a lack of funds to purchase new stocks.'

‘Yes, I see.'

‘And there are other factors,' he continued. ‘Naturally the war affected supplies. Disruption of shipping, looting of some of our stocks being held in cask in France, destruction of vineyards. Because we were well stocked when the
war started, Mr Witney could fill a high proportion of orders. But he continued to calculate the prices he should ask on the basis of what those stocks originally cost, without taking account of how much it would take to replace them. The cash reserve may have looked healthy for a time, but only because it was impossible to spend it at the normal rate. Now that the opportunity to buy has returned – and I'm told that the 1919 burgundies may prove to be the best vintage for half a century – he simply hasn't got the money with which to negotiate. You can never stand still in trade. How can you sell if you're unable to buy?'

‘Surely Father had a reserve for emergencies.'

‘I thought so. But he seems to have taken more than was wise to finance his expedition.'

‘It was his own business. He was entitled to draw on it.'

‘If that had been all, yes. But there was another withdrawal at the same time. A large amount, which appears to have been transferred into a trust. I haven't had time yet to find out about it. It may be that after Father has been presumed dead we shall be able to recover or use the money. But all these legal processes will take time, and The House of Hardie has no time to spare. We're living on credit. Fortunately, after two hundred years of honest trading our credit is good. But we can't extend it for ever. We need cash, and we need it quickly.'

‘So what are you going to do?'

Until this moment neither Grace nor David had taken any notice of the parlourmaid who was serving the meal. They had grown up with the knowledge that everything they said at table would be overheard and, if interesting, repeated in the servants' hall. In any case, Grace had already made the first reductions in the staff, as her aunt had advised, so this conversation would merely confirm a
situation already known to the servants. But David now paused and then stood up.

‘Shall we take coffee in the drawing room?' he said; and waited until the tray had been set down and the maid had left the room before answering his sister's question.

‘I've been considering this carefully since Mr Witney approached me a few weeks ago,' he said. ‘There's one very simple way of raising capital. We could take out a mortgage on Greystones.'

‘What does that mean?'

‘It means that we borrow a sum of money which we put to work in the business. We have to pay interest on the loan, but if the business is well run there'll be no difficulty in covering the interest and still making a good profit.'

‘Where does Greystones come into it? If we can simply borrow money –'

‘When a loan is secured on a property, the rate of interest is much lower. That's because there's no risk to the lender. If by any chance we were to default on the loan, he could take possession of the property and sell it. Most houses are bought in the first place with the benefit of such a mortgage. I was surprised when I looked into the matter and discovered that Greystones is free of any such encumbrance.'

‘No!' exclaimed Grace. ‘To risk losing the house –'

‘There's no risk,' said David impatiently. ‘The money will earn an immediate return. Even if it took a little time before the capital sum could be repaid, there could be no possible difficulty about meeting the interest payments, and that's all that matters.'

Grace struggled incoherently to express her doubts. ‘But it isn't ours … We couldn't … What would Mother think when she returns and finds out?'

‘If nothing is done, she'll return to find herself living in a large house without the income to support it.'

‘All the same, it's too big a step to take without her approval.'

David sighed and continued his efforts to persuade her. ‘Mother doesn't understand about business, Grace, any more than you do. When she comes back, she'll accept my advice – but by that time more than a year will have been lost. If you don't believe what I'm telling you, ask Mr Witney. He might consider it a presumption to suggest taking out a mortgage, but he'll certainly confirm the need for capital. You mustn't think that this doesn't concern you. If the trading profits continue to fall, or if they're absorbed by the interest payments on an unsecured loan, Greystones may have to be sold because it will be impossible for the business to pay all the expenses.'

Midge had made the same point when she first brought up the matter a few weeks earlier – but she had presented it as a warning. From David's lips it sounded more like a threat. He gave her a few seconds to consider this.

‘Have you any idea how much it costs to run a property of this size?' he asked.

‘I've been trying to find out, and to cut down. Mother used just to sign the tradesmen's books every week. She may have checked that they only charged for what they supplied, but I don't believe she bothered about how
much
they supplied. There's been a great deal of waste. Mrs Charles has told me that she likes to use only fresh ingredients, but I've said that this can't continue. Left-over food must be used up. Especially since I'm alone here, so that she's cooking mainly for the staff. And in the gardens, the cost of heating glasshouses just to produce out-of-season strawberries or vegetables is ridiculous. We shall make savings on coal there, and in the house as well. There's no need to keep so many rooms warm just for me.'

‘That's not as simple as you think. If the building becomes damp –'

‘We shall keep log fires burning low, using our own wood. It's only a short time since Aunt Midge first mentioned the problem to me. I intend to make every possible economy.' Grace spoke firmly to ward off the threat, but David was not to be gainsaid.

‘About time too. But you still can't make real economies with a property which is far too large.'

‘You didn't think it too large when you lived here yourself. You didn't complain that your meals were too lavish or your room too well-heated. You're talking as though all this is somehow my fault.'

‘Of course it isn't. Calm down, Grace. The plan I'm putting forward is intended to let you and Mother go on living in Greystones in proper style. It's only if you refuse to co-operate that we should have to consider whether the business could continue to pay all your bills in the old way.'

The repeated threat made Grace angry rather than prepared to be helpful. ‘I'm not prepared to put the ownership of Greystones at any kind of risk whilst Mother is away,' she said. That was an excuse. It was her own refusal to accept the risk of losing the house she loved so much which made her speak with such determination. Then she gave a rueful sigh. ‘But I don't suppose anything I say is going to make any difference. As soon as you've done this business of presuming Father's death, you'll arrange everything the way you want it, won't you?'

‘No. I need your agreement.'

‘Why?'

There was a long silence. David seemed to be considering whether there was any alternative form of words he could use. At last, reluctantly, he answered her question, revealing something that no one had ever told her.

‘I can do nothing without your consent,' he said. ‘Greystones belongs to you.'

‘Did you know?' Grace asked her aunt. David's reluctance to admit the truth about his sister's ownership of Greystones had led to a violent quarrel, and the matter had been on her mind ever since.

‘Know what, dear?' Midge Hardie's attention was not on the conversation. With her examinations successfully passed she had returned to Oxford, dressed in the regulation black and white, to take her degree. As she awaited the start of the ceremony in which she would at last be presented to the Vice-Chancellor of the university, her dark eyes sparkled with excitement, searching for old friends amongst the animated crowd surrounding the Sheldonian Theatre.

‘Did you know that Greystones belonged to me?'

‘I knew that it would at some time or other. Not the details, though. When you came of age, I suppose.'

‘I came of age in 1918. Why didn't anyone tell me?'

‘I expect your father intended to; but then, of course, he wasn't here. Your mother may not have known the exact position any more than I do. It's not of any great consequence, is it? I mean to say, Greystones is your family's house.'

‘But it isn't,' said Grace. ‘It's
my
house. And that
is
of consequence, because David wants to mortgage it, and he can't unless I let him.'

She had lost her aunt's attention. ‘Ah, the group of Home Students is assembling,' said Midge. ‘Grace dear, I shan't be coming straight back with you after the ceremony. Mr Witney is going to open a bottle of champagne
in the shop – just as he did on the day I finished taking my final examinations. We shall take luncheon together, and then he has suggested an afternoon on the river, since the weather is so mild. As though I were an undergraduate again.' Midge gave something which sounded very much like a giggle. ‘Except that in those days I should have had to have a chaperone. I'll be at Greystones before dinner.'

She hurried away to join her group. Grace, taking her seat inside the Sheldonian, tried not to feel disappointed. It had been thoughtless of her to expect advice on a day when her aunt was excited about her own affairs.

There was a long time to wait. Only after all the male graduates had received their degrees was it the turn of the women – more than five hundred of them, so that Grace had to search for a sight of her aunt amongst the procession. Each curtsied to the Vice-Chancellor and was tapped lightly on the head with a Bible while a Latin formula was repeated.

After the last of them had left the building, Grace thought that the ceremony must be over. But in a dramatic gesture the great doors were flung open again. Standing in the entrance were the principals of the five women's colleges. Unlike Midge they had not been required to sit the examinations which they missed earlier in their lives, but had been given honorary MAs. Now, proudly wearing their scarlet hoods and long gowns for the first time, they led back into the theatre the procession of women in academic gowns.

The sight brought the audience of friends and relatives to its feet. Grace, joining in the applause, felt tears pricking her eyes. How pleased and happy her aunt must be!

By the time Midge was Grace's age she had completed her Oxford education. By that age, too, she had obtained her first employment as a teacher at Cheltenham Ladies' College. She must regard a young woman who was content
to live at home as hopelessly unenterprising. Indeed, she had implied as much when pressing her niece to take a more active part in the family business. How could she understand the depth of Grace's feeling for Greystones? Were her advice to be asked again, she would probably recommend risk – the kind of risk that David was proposing – as a necessary step on the path to independence. Because Grace admired her aunt so greatly, there was a moment in which this seemed less unthinkable than before. Perhaps she should consider the matter again.

She intended to return to the subject after dinner that evening – but Midge had news of her own.

‘You must be the first to know, Grace. Will and I are going to be married.'

‘Married!' Grace stuttered for a moment in surprise. ‘But – but you told me once that you weren't allowed to marry while you were a headmistress.'

‘I'm not. So I shan't be a headmistress any longer.'

‘You can give that up?'

‘I've been teaching for more than thirty years; a head teacher for more than twenty. I shall be glad of a change.'

‘You've always said that a woman fortunate enough to have a good education was under an obligation to put it to use.'

‘True enough, but I've surely discharged that obligation by now. Anyway, I don't intend to sit at home and twiddle my thumbs. My first ambition when I was young was to have a school of my own, and I might start something of the sort in Oxford. On a small scale, perhaps – a tutorial college for older girls who wish to go to university. I thought you'd be happy for me, Grace, but you seem to be trying to persuade me to change my mind.'

‘Oh no. I'm sorry if it seemed that way. I like Will immensely. It's just that you've always seemed to think that marriage was a bad thing for a woman.'