Authors: Jessica Stirling
For days she waited for grief to strike but it did not, not greatly. The funeral was a vast and solemn service at St Anne's. The burial, which Lindsay did not, of course, attend was followed by a luncheon for sixty invited guests in the upstairs room at the Barbary. That in turn was followed by a family dinner at Harper's Hill in the evening and throughout it all there was an air of communal participation, of sharing, that somehow dissipated her grief.
On that evening in Harper's Hill they were as they had once been: the Franklins, their wives and husbands, the whole family together, dining together, chattering, laughing at tales of Pappy's mischief; and the past became all of a piece. Whatever was in Donald, in Arthur, in Lilias and Kay that their children could not share remained hidden. Only the platitudes held true: Pappy would have loved it, Pappy would have had fun, Pappy would have urged them to eat more, drink more, to sing a song or two to please him; which is just what they did, all of them, unforced, ungrudgingly, singing all the songs, sad and jolly, that Owen in his lifetime had loved.
Later that night in bed, Forbes made love to her, fast and greedy and demanding love, a charmless act to which Lindsay yielded because, in her imagination, she was not with Forbes at all.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Four days later Geoffrey turned up at the door in Brunswick Crescent and Lindsay in person admitted him to the house.
âI didn't quite know what to do,' Geoffrey began. âI attended the service, of course, but I wasn't sure whether to write or not. I was at rather a loss, to be truthful. I didn't want you to think, Lindsay, that I didn't care.'
âI know,' she said. âI know that.'
âIt seemed wrong to impose at such a time.'
âI'm glad to see you,' she said.
âTruly?' Geoffrey said. âI'm not intruding?'
âOf course not,' Lindsay said.
âI know from what you've told me that he meant a great deal to you.'
âNot just to me,' Lindsay said.
âThat much was apparent from the turnout at church. I've never seen such a vast gathering,' Geoffrey said. âThousands. More, I believe, than turned out for Admiral Hattersfield's funeral last year at Devonport.'
Lindsay laughed. âPappy would have been flattered to hear it.'
âYou don't seem particularly â how do I put this? â upset.'
âNo, I'm not,' Lindsay said. âMy grandfather was eighty-two years old, you know. All the stuff and nonsense that's talked about aged people â he had a good innings, that sort of thing â turns out not to be stuff and nonsense at all. It's true. He
did
have a good innings. How can I regret that Pappy has gone when he left so much of himself behind, so much that was good.'
âWell,' Geoffrey said, âI'd still like to offer my condolences.'
âThank you,' Lindsay said.
âI â I won't stay.'
âNo, please do,' Lindsay said.
He looked around the parlour, at the half-drawn curtains that signified a family in mourning, at the deep slats of April sunlight that caught and held fine motes of dust above the Indian carpet, at the piano, the bright fire in the grate.
âIs Miss Runciman not with us?' he asked.
âShe has gone out this afternoon with my father.'
âWith your father?'
âTo buy linen, bed linen.'
âThey shop together?'
âWhy not?' Lindsay said. âWhat's so shocking about that? I may not be terribly affected by what's happened but my father certainly is. Miss Runciman will persuade him to take her to tea in one of the warehouses and will listen to him prattle on about my grandfather and his sister, Kay. Eleanor will offer him comfort. It may not seem proper to you, but Eleanor Runciman is more than just a housekeeper; she is also a very good friend.'
âAh, well, I do know something about friendship,' Geoffrey said.
âI don't think my father and Eleanor Runciman have ever kissed, though,' Lindsay said. âPerhaps they will one day.'
âWill it matter whether they do or not?'
âProbably not,' Lindsay said. âShe loves him, I think, and he's very fond of her and that's all that counts in the long run.'
âIf you were in Miss Runciman's position would that be enough for you?'
âNo,' Lindsay said.
âNo?'
âI should want to be kissed.'
âLike this?' he said.
âYes,' Lindsay said, âjust like that,' and drew back only a moment before Blossom flung open the door and Aunt Kay stalked into the room.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
âIs that the chap Winn's been telling me about?' Kay said. âIs that the chap who's trying to steal her away from you?'
âI wouldn't go that far,' Forbes told his mother. âMyself, I think Paget's just out for a bit of a lark.'
âThen you're more of a fool than I took you for.'
âLinnet won't give in to him,' Forbes said. âShe knows where her best interests lie â and that's right here with me.'
âIf she's had her head turned by this sailor,' Kay said, âshe won't know or care where her best interests lie. There's no reasoning with a woman when she thinks she's fallen in love.'
âMother, for God's sake,' Forbes said, âyou're making a mountain out of a molehill. Lindsay would never abandon the children and I'm damned sure friend Paget won't want to sail off into the sunset with another man's brats in tow. Besides â if you'll excuse me â it's really none of your concern.'
âAye, but it is, son,' Kay said. âIt's very much my concern.'
âYou're still determined to come back to Glasgow?'
âOf course I am.'
âWhat's stopping you?' Forbes said. âI have ample room for you here.'
âShe'll not be abandoning the others,' Winn said.
âShe'll abandon Dadda quick enough,' Blossom said, âbut she'll not let the children stay behind unless they want to.'
âWell, I can't take them all in,' Forbes said. âOne more â Charlie, say, or Rena â but no more. I mean, if you want to move the lot to Glasgow I've funds enough to provide them with board and lodging for a week or two and perhaps I might even be able to find them jobs but you can't expect me to provide for them all indefinitely.'
âCharlie won't leave,' Winn said.
âAnd Babs is for marrying, soon as she can,' said Blossom.
âAnd young Peter,' Kay put in, âis his father's boy.'
âPeter's what age?' said Forbes.
âSeventeen,' said Blossom.
âHe's gone into the brewery,' said Winn. âThe brewery will be his.'
âHow bad are things financially?' Forbes asked.
âWorse than ever,' Kay told him.
They were seated in the downstairs drawing-room, huddled about the elegant fireplace as if they were peasants unused to spacious interiors. Daniel McCulloch's house in Malahide was not much smaller than the Franklins' house in Brunswick Park but neglect and lack of cash had given it a ramshackle air.
âIs Dadda still involved with the Fellowship?' Forbes enquired.
âHe is
supporting
the Fellowship just about single-handed. There is nothing I can say to stop him throwing good money after bad,' Kay said. âHe would be having us all working for the blessed Fellowship if he could manage it. He won't even employ a hand now who doesn't subscribe to the Fellowship of Erin. Catholic or Protestant, that has never been an issue with your daddy. It has always been the fight, the struggle, the
politics
of it that's consumed him. I tell you, son,' Kay went on, âI wish he had been addicted to drink instead of politics. I could have coped with the drink better than I can with the Fellowship.'
âI take it,' Forbes said, âhe still has the horses?'
âA few,' Kay said. âI don't object to the horses. You can understand an Irishman's love of horseflesh. But the other thing, the Fellowship of Erin thing, that's beyond my comprehension.'
âIs Peter with him in this too?' said Forbes.
âAye, and Charlie,' Kay said. âIt's too late. We've lost them already.'
Leaning forward in her chair, Blossom patted her brother's knee. âYou are well out of it, Forbes. The best thing Mam ever did was getting you out of it before you were old enough to be snared.'
âDidn't you know what Dadda was like before you ran off with him?' Forbes asked.
âGod now, and how could I know? He didn't talk about politics. He talked about love. It was never love, though, not with him. Marrying me was just another form of politics. Oh, he was charm itself in those early days, as decent a man on the surface as you could ever hope to meet. How was I to know that he would be spending half his time with the horses and half his time with the Fellowship, though it didn't call itself that in those days, and that there would be precious little left for me?'
âIf he had devoted as much time and effort to the brewery as he put into the Fellowship then we would all of us be dressed up like lords and ladies and be living in fine houses in Grafton Street,' Winn said.
âI doubt that,' Forbes said. âDadda was lazy to begin with. He needed an excuse for doing as little as possible and the Fellowship provided it. It's not politics, believe me, not real genuine politics.'
âThanks to God you're not like him,' Winn said, patting her brother's knee in turn. âIt's a fine thing you've done, Forbes, making so much of yourself that you can take on the burden for the rest of us.'
âNot all,' said Forbes hastily. âYou and Mam, but not all of them.'
âYou mustn't let this foolish nonsense with the sailor and your wife distract you,' Kay said. âIt will be a flirtation and it will blow itself out when he goes back to sea and he finds some other man's wife to have his fun with.'
Forbes kept his doubts to himself. âPaget's a shore officer. He works under Fisher, the First Sea Lord, and has the ear of the purchasing and commissioning committees. In other words, Mam, I can't punch the bastard's nose and get away with it, not if I want to keep navy contracts rolling in.'
âI understand that,' Kay said impatiently. âBut with your grandfather gone, there will surely be more opportunity for you to make your mark.'
âPerhaps,' Forbes said. âWe'll have to await the reading of Pappy's will to find out how the firm's been divided and just how much will come to us.'
âUs?' said Winn.
âLindsay and me,' Forbes said.
âLindsay's a bitch out of hell to put you through this, Forbes. I mean the stuff with the sailor,' Blossom said. âI can't think what she could want from marriage more than you have given her.'
âSelfish.' Winn nodded. âThat's what she is, born selfish. It's not for me to speak ill of the dead but that old man has much to answer for.'
âHe did not spoil
us,
did he?' Blossom said.
âHe did not care what happened to us,' said Winn. âWhen I look at poor Gowry in his uniform, I could weep. He should have been a gentleman, not a motoring-car driver.'
Aware that her daughters were leading the conversation on to very thin ice, Kay intervened. âLindsay's as flighty as her father but she has a mind of her own, so let her have her fling until you find out what's gone to her, then, son, you can rein her in again.'
âRein her in?' said Forbes. âHow?'
âGive her something to think about besides making eyes at sailors.'
âWhat, for instance?' Forbes asked.
âMore babies,' his mother told him.
âLots more babies,' said Blossom.
âReally?' Forbes said. âWill that do it?'
âAye, son,' his mother assured him. âThat will do it, every time.'
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
The disposal of Owen Franklin's assets was undoubtedly complicated by the diversity of his holdings but Pappy had spent the best part of a week with Messrs Harrington and Gammon up at Strathmore revising earlier wills and drafting fresh instructions which, with the lawyers' aid, left everything nicely cut and dried. Even after payment of death duties there was a considerable sum left in addition to principal property.
The effect of Owen's death on Franklin's was almost indetectable. He had had the foresight to make clear separation between personal and partnership holdings some years ago and had retained only a portion of interest in the family firm. It was, however, this portion that excited Forbes's interest, for he was still, more than ever, hungry for recognition and the power that went with it. Lindsay, however, had no expectation of gain and was soon rather bored by the more formal part of the proceedings.
Outside, a sharp late April sun shone on the terraces above Kelvingrove. From her chair in the drawing-room, where the reading was taking place, Lindsay could just make out the leaves beginning to unfurl on the tops of the trees. She felt oddly relaxed and unthreatened now that her grandfather was no longer present. He seemed to be everywhere, though, yet nowhere.
The house on Harper's Hill would not change greatly. Giles would be replaced by a younger man, Cook might decide to retire and, in course of time, most of the bedrooms would become empty, for her cousins were already going out into the world to marry and bear children and establish homes of their own. To Martin's children, and Mercy's, to Harry and Philip and little Ewan Calder, Pappy would not even be a memory. On the oceans of the world, however, in distant ports and in harbours tucked into the great brown rivers that ran through faraway continents, the boats that Pappy had built would endure. Some day, perhaps, she would see the
Covenant
or the
Commonwealth,
the
Liberty
or the
Cormorant
nosing up the Clyde again and would point it out to Harry or Philip and tell him that her grandfather had built it and hope that her sons would understand just what his legacy meant to them all.