The Lorimer Line (7 page)

She saw him hesitate and took pains to conceal her disappointment.

‘This is a matter for a professional valuation,' he said. ‘And you would need an estimate from a builder with regard to the alterations.'

Margaret had known all that. This was the moment when she had to recognize what she had not admitted earlier, even to herself - that she had used the property as an excuse to visit a young man whom she had found interesting. It seemed he was not willing to make use of the same excuse.

‘Yes, of course,' she said. ‘And you have so little free time. I could hardly expect …'

He was quick to interrupt her.

‘I was meaning that my opinion would be of no great value, Miss Lorimer,' he said. ‘But since, as your treasurer, I may one day have to pay the bill for your purchase, I would certainly be glad of the opportunity to inspect it with you.'

She had accused him at their first meeting of being too direct. Now he was expressing himself in the formal politenesses appropriate to a conversation between two people who were still almost strangers. But his eyes were as straight-forward at this moment as his words had been earlier and showed clearly the sincerity of his pleasure at the invitation. He was smiling at her as though they were friends. Margaret tried to keep the triumph out of her own smile, but she must have been unsuccessful, for his dark
eyes sparkled with amusement as he accepted the arrangments for the expedition.

‘Do you always get what you want, Miss Lorimer?'

‘Until now I have never had what I want,' she said. ‘I hope that perhaps my fortune is about to change.'

She said goodbye and returned to her carriage, hardly able to believe her own boldness. The next stage was to obtain her mother's permission for the visit, and this proved simpler than she might have expected. Georgiana had been shocked by the necessity of inviting Mr Gregson to her house, but did not object to her daughter being accompanied by one of the bank staff for business reasons when she went on her tour of inspection. They both knew that Margaret ought to be chaperoned by a married woman on such an occasion, but Sophie was confined to her house after the birth of her second baby and Georgiana was too lazy to make the effort herself. She merely gave strict instructions that Betty should go in the carriage with her mistress.

The estate which had attracted Margaret was a large one on the far side of the river, bordered by Leigh Woods. After its buildings had been inspected she and David took advantage of the September sunshine to walk in its woods and gardens, while Betty remained behind to improve her acquaintance with the coachman. Margaret felt a kind of happiness which she had never known before as they talked together, abandoning all pretence of further interest in the charity's affairs, and comparing their own childhoods. The end of the visit came all too soon for her.

‘I have promised to take tea at my brother's house,' she said. ‘I have a new niece waiting to be inspected, and my sister-in-law to congratulate. Before we part, will you give me your opinion of what we have seen?'

‘Your judgement of the house, as a house, could not be criticized,' he said. ‘And its position in the sun and wind is undoubtedly healthy. But the park is larger than would be
needed. And I cannot help wondering whether the situation might not prove inconvenient. To bring the mothers and children so far from their homes would be an expense, and the lack of public transport would deter their visitors.'

‘So what do you advise?'

‘My own suggestion - it is no more than that - is that we should study the tramway routes and look for a property which can be reached from their highest points: in the Redland area for instance.'

It should have been a disappointment that he did not approve her choice, but Margaret was not disappointed at all. There would be other expeditions, other walks and conversations. She was in a good humour as she arrived at William's house and told the coachman to take Mr Gregson on to whatever address he gave.

Although not as palatial as Brinsley House, William's home, The Ivies, was a sufficiently substantial affair. John Junius had given it to his elder son as a wedding present. It was a solid, five-storied house with six bays of windows, built in the local red stone but almost entirely covered by the ivy which had given it its name. Unlike Brinsley House, which was surrounded by its own extensive grounds, The Ivies stood in a street of equally prosperous houses. It was also in Clifton, but to the north of the suspension bridge, near the Zoological Gardens. William came out to greet his sister at the sound of the carriage, and looked surprised when it drove away. Margaret did not explain where she had been, nor in whose company, for she felt instinctively that William would disapprove.

If she had not known her brother in the schoolroom, she would have thought that he had been born at the age of forty. Although still only twenty-seven, he had none of a young man's enthusiasms and never seemed to unbend. In person he was quite unlike his father. Everything about John Junius was on a large scale, but William's frame, like Margaret's, was slight. He did not share his sister's
expression of determination, however: his features were sharp and his temperament withdrawn. He gave the impression of being always absorbed in his own complicated plans. It was even hard to tell today whether he was pleased with the birth of his daughter, who was to be called Beatrice after the Queen's youngest child.

Out of politeness Margaret sat with Sophie for a while after her first glimpse of her niece, but was glad when the young mother said that she was tired. Margaret had never been on intimate terms with her sister-in-law, but she had the ability to establish an instant relationship of warmth with any child, however young. She indulged herself with the baby until the nurse ordered that Beatrice should be put back to rest. Then she went in search of her nephew, Matthew.

To her surprise she found that Ralph was there before her, although he was normally intolerant of children and not at all disposed to seek their company. On this occasion, she supposed that he had come out of family feeling to congratulate William and Sophie.

‘Uncle Ralph's playing with me while Claudine fetches my tea,' said Matthew, rocking vigorously on his wooden horse. ‘I'm four now.'

It was an announcement which he had made at each of their last three meetings, as ten days had already passed since his birthday, but Margaret accepted the news with proper congratulations. Even her pleasure in playing with him did not prevent her, though, from noticing that Ralph looked pale and worried. It seemed unlikely that he was working too hard at school – at least, this was not a danger to which he had ever exposed himself before, and the new term had only just begun. It was more probable that the headmaster's sermon that morning had in some way upset him. Mr Percival's eloquence had more than once reduced Ralph to despair at the sinfulness of his thoughts, although the strict timetable of his life made it unlikely, she imagined,
that he had ever committed any greater crime than that of borrowing from another boy without permission.

The nursery governess arrived with a tray before Margaret had time to enquire into her brother's anxiety. Claudine had arrived from France two months earlier, ready to take charge of Matthew when the new baby monopolized the attention of the nurse. Soon after her arrival she had been dispatched by Sophie to Brinsley House for a brief stay, together with her young charge. No reason had been given to Margaret, although perhaps her parents were better informed. But the visit had coincided with Sophie's departure to stay with her own mother for two weeks. It had been Margaret's amused deduction that William was not to be allowed to keep Claudine under his roof during his wife's absence.

Privately, Margaret did not consider that William was ever likely to allow any young woman to divert him from the task of making money, but she could sympathize with Sophie's attitude. There was an expansive and undeferential warmth about Claudine's behaviour, warmth of a kind not usually found amongst domestic staff. She was a country girl, not qualified to be a governess in any way that Margaret could see, except that of having French as her native language. But she was healthy and good-natured and her experience in caring for her own five younger brothers and sisters had enabled her to win Matthew's heart at once. The schoolroom to which he was now promoted was a far happier place than the nursery over which Nurse Grant had always tyrannized.

Claudine greeted Margaret politely and spoke to Ralph in a way which made it clear that they had conversed earlier in the afternoon. To Margaret's still greater surpise, Ralph answered the question in halting French. She asked him about this later, when the carriage had returned to fetch her and they were both on their way back to Brinsley House.

'Claudine is to teach Matthew French,' said Ralph. ‘They are to speak it together all the time when they are alone. I asked her to help me with the language as well.'

‘But surely you don't attend the French classes at Clifton?' said Margaret. Even as she asked the question she guessed the answer. French was taught only to those boys who lacked the ability to be successful in Latin and Greek. If Ralph had been moved from the Classical to the Modern Side, he would have reason enough to look anxious. John Junius had no great regard for the virtues of dead languages, but he expected that in any selection which took place within the school his son should always be chosen for the upper part, whether it related to work or sport.

Her suspicions were right. Ralph was silent for a moment and then burst into a sulky tirade.

‘They told me in May that I must spend less time playing cricket and more on Greek verse,' he said. ‘But suppose the Cheltenham match had been lost because I was out of practice. The masters would have been the first to complain that I wasn't showing the proper school spirit. And it was unfair to make me change so late. Now I'm behind everyone who started French earlier, so I shall do badly on the Modern Side as well.'

‘Never mind,' said Margaret soothingly. ‘This is your last year at school. It was a marvellous century you scored against Cheltenham and Oxford surely would rather have a first-class cricketer than a mediocre scholar.'

‘I may not be allowed to go to Oxford. William wasn't.'

‘Papa wished William to go into his business as early as possible. Your talents are different. He will be proud to see you captain the university at cricket one day.'

‘You think I'm to be a gentleman, do you?' Still resentful, Ralph tried to laugh. ‘Well, I see I'm fit for nothing else. So I must chatter to servants and hope that a boy of four doesn't prove more apt to learn than myself.'

It was not easy for Margaret to sympathize with him. She had for some years been well taught in the schoolroom of Brinsley House. Because William was ten years older than his younger brother, a time had come when he was ready for school but Ralph was still too young for serious study. John Junius, recognizing a good tutor when he had one, had retained Mr Pennydale's services until Ralph should be ready for him.

But in the Lorimer household value was always expected for money. With Mr Pennydale on the premises and a daughter whose time must somehow be occupied, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world that Margaret should be given almost the same education as her brothers. Some of the effects were unusual. Most girls were taught to paint delicate water colours. Mr Pennydale, finding himself expected to demonstrate an art for which he had no talent, had chosen instead to equip Margaret with a knowledge of anatomy so that she could attempt figure drawing in a scientific manner. She had rebelled against Greek, but worked hard at Latin - and enjoyed her lessons.

By the time she was sixteen, Ralph was ready to begin his career at Clifton College and Mr Pennydale's services were no longer required. She had pleaded with her father to allow her to join her closest friend, Lydia, as a boarder at the Ladies' College in Cheltenham. This request was refused, and from that time onwards Margaret's life had been the conventional one of the daughter of a wealthy family. It was not surprising that she sometimes felt jealous of her brother's greater opportunities, realizing that she would have made better use of them if she had been in Ralph's position.

The unfairness of the situation was often on her mind. Just because she was a girl, so many doors were closed to her. The conventions of her society allowed her only a single choice. She could marry, or she could remain single, living in her parents' home. There was no other decision to
be made, and she was not free to make even that one herself.

Sometimes, when her wish to be a doctor overwhelmed her, she raged silently against the restrictions of her life. But there were more frequent periods when she was able to accept her situation with contentment. There was just one door which would open to her and never to her brothers. She could give birth to a baby, as they could not. One day, she promised herself, she would have children of her own.

Before any bowl of soup can reach the lips of the poor, a good deal of champagne necessarily makes its way down the throats of the rich. When the need is for something as substantial as a building, the fertile soil of a wealthy community must be cultivated with both energy and style. Margaret gave a good deal of attention to the details of her mother's evening reception, but naturally her own direct contribution to it exercised her most. Almost every day she sent the carriage for Luisa, using the need to practise together as an excuse to provide her friend with a good meal.

On these occasions the baby, Alexa, remained behind. Luisa's relations with her landlady had been strained for a time because she had difficulty in paying the rent promptly every week. But recently there had been no mention of the arrears, and Mrs Lambert had even volunteered to look after the baby occasionally. Luisa considered that this new reasonableness was caused by the regular appearance of the grandest carriage in the city outside Mrs Lambert's front door, but it was Margaret's opinion that Alexa herself was irresistible to any woman.