Murder by Appointment: Inspector Faro No.10 (9 page)

Faro realized with dismay that Rose's visit would soon be
over. As always he was consumed with guilt at having spent so
little time with her. For once this fact did not seem to trouble
her. She had Olivia—and Lachlan, yes, Lachlan too.

Petted and spoilt by Mrs Brook, she touched her slender waist and groaned. 'A few more days is all I can afford—I don't know how the people in this house can keep their figures intact with dear Mrs B's cooking.'

She had just returned from one of Olivia's charitable sales of
work in Duddingston. 'I wish you could have seen it. It was as
well we took May with us to help carry round all the things
Olivia bought. We shall have enough antimacassars to furnish
a regiment.'

Faro only half listened to the conversation around the table
as a jar of Gentleman's Relish was put before him.

'I only went because I had promised two of my pupils I'd look up their great-aunts who live there. Thank goodness they were very much in evidence in the tombola department. They had met May before—it's a small world,' she said, smiling across at her sister-in-law.

Olivia was oddly silent, she had eaten little and was looking
pale.

'I hope you're not overdoing it,' Vince whispered, taking her hand.

'Oh, hush,Vince.'

Rose turned excitedly. 'Livvy—is it—I mean, are you—'

Olivia smiled wanly. 'Well, you might as well all know. It's
early days and I would rather have waited a little longer—'

'Come, my dear, you have a doctor for a husband after all,' said Vince, grinning broadly as he looked round the table. 'We have reason to believe that we will be proud parents come Christmas.'

Rose squealed with delight and hugged them both. Everything else was forgotten in the joy that greeted their news.
Faro was particularly delighted as he had been hoping for such
an announcement since, two weeks earlier, he'd discovered
Olivia looking distinctly unwell and refusing the Sunday roast
on the one occasion each week when all three shared a midday
meal together.

'Things are changing in Sheridan Place, our numbers growing,' said Rose happily. 'Though I wouldn't bank on Olivia having May much longer. Romance is in the air,' she added mysteriously.

'You mean Constable Thomas,' said Faro.

'I might have guessed you knew about that too,' said Rose. 'I don't think Mrs Brook will grieve to see her go, although she will certainly need extra help. Isn't it exciting, Pa?'

'It's great news,' said Faro. 'I hope a new baby will mean we'll see you more often.'

'Often as I can,' said Rose vaguely. 'Depends on a lot of things.'

In the silence that followed it was his chance to ask about Danny and he let it go.

The following day Rose went to Lachlan's final concert, which coincided with her return to Glasgow. Lachlan's tour had been a tremendous success. Edinburgh had indeed wel
comed him with open arms, every performance had been sold
out, leaving Faro to ponder whether the warm reception owed as much to the notoriety of his connection with John Brown as the young pianist's undeniable talent.

It was with some disquiet that he learned from Rose that Lachlan had a free week before returning to London to prepare for a tour of European cities.

'He is coming to Glasgow,' she said dreamily.

‘You'll be teaching, of course,' said Faro.

'The girls are on holiday next week—fortunately.' She laughed. 'So we'll have the days together at least.'

Realizing how deeply they were attracted and aware of the power and passion of love, Faro dreaded what might happen away from the restraining influence of Sheridan Place.

If only they could still talk together as they had done in the
old days. As for McQuinn, she seemed to have forgotten his very existence. How that would have pleased Faro once upon a time and he was again reminded that one should take great care in what one asked the gods to grant, as they might well answer but in a manner quite unacceptable to the petitioner.

Fate, however, was on his side momentarily. Vince was summoned to the Caledonian Hotel in the early hours of the morning.

Lachlan had succumbed to the dreaded influenza which Vince and many other Edinburgh doctors suspected might reach epidemic proportions.

But Lachlan had youth and good health on his side. Vince
decided to isolate him and hired a reliable nurse to take care of him.

'He should be fit to travel to London next week as planned,'
Vince reassured them. 'But any ideas he might have had about going to Glasgow are definitely to be abandoned.'

Vince's stern instructions had made Lachlan groan but he felt too miserable and ill to do more than weakly protest.

When Rose was informed she immediately returned to Edinburgh prepared to take over the nursing herself if necessary. But Vince strongly opposed any such ideas.

'Influenza is not to be taken lightly. It is highly contagious,'
Vince told her sternly. 'Besides, Lachlan is too poorly to receive visitors who will merely exhaust him and delay his recovery.'

Lachlan was not too ill to realize the dangers and absolutely
to forbid Rose to come anywhere near him. He also had a young man's pride. The mirror held up for his shaving revealed that he looked far from the handsome, strong, virile man Rose was used to meeting and he disliked being seen when not at his best, especially by this woman he loved.

And so Rose had to be content to walk with her father on Arthur's Seat. It was an afternoon of soft sunshine dappling
the hills, the gorse was now in bloom, the horizons stretching
endlessly to where the River Forth joined the North Sea and was lost in shimmering haze.

They sat down together on a boulder and, leaning her head on his shoulder, Rose sighed comfortably.

'What a glorious day, Papa. We never have enough time together.'

He hugged her to his side. 'We never did have, lass. As you've grown up I regret more than anything that I lost so
much of both my bairns' childhood.' He sighed heavily. 'Was I wrong not to keep you both here with me in Edinburgh after your mother died?'

She looked at him. 'I think Emmy and I always hoped that you might. We longed for the holidays and we used to count
the weeks, striking them off the calendar. We always had such
plans for where were going—with our Papa—'

And Faro remembered guiltily how often he had been
unavailable on those visits, working on a case. Absorbed with some crime or other and only vaguely aware of his daughters'
reproachful sighs, their need for him. Pretending not to notice how disappointed they were to be put in the charge of
Mrs Brook, with all their splendid plans for him set at naught.

Dear, kind, good Mrs Brook, whose idea of entertaining children was giving them huge meals, filling the empty
corners of their lives with loads of cakes and scones. But these
two girls needed more than banquets to compensate for their
ever absent father. Sadly he knew all too well that they would not have complained at plain bread and porridge if they could
have shared it with him each day.

'I thought it was for the best, and that you were happy with Grandma in Orkney,' he said bleakly.

'We were, but we always hoped things would change.' After
a moment she added slyly, 'We hoped that you might marry
again. We used to say in our prayers, "And send Papa a good
wife."'

Faro was taken aback by this confession. 'I thought little girls objected to wicked stepmothers.'

She laughed. 'Well, we knew we could rely on you to make
a good choice. Life is such a great adventure, isn't it? Full of the unexpected.'

Looking at her smiling face, dreamy-eyed, staring over towards the coast of East Lothian where the prehistoric hillfort of Taprain dominated the horizon, Faro took a deep breath.

'The unexpected? Are we to presume that includes Lachlan?'

She turned, smiling at him. 'He is such a delight, isn't he? Imagine Inga St Ola being his mother and not able to keep
him with her in Orkney, having to leave him with the Browns
to grow up on Deeside. Life is very cruel.' She sighed and shook her head. 'Strange that I already feel as if I had known
him all my life. That he has always been there, just around the
corner, waiting.'

She turned to Faro for help, for confirmation and when he remained silent she continued, 'That sense of familiarity, almost of kinship—as if long ago we had met before. And I keep trying to remember when—where—' She shook her head. 'It's like a half-remembered dream.'