Simon interrupted her thoughts. “My first reaction, of course, was to assume that there was some problem with the property. It sounded rather as if she wanted to offload it on you.
That’s what I thought at first.”
Precisely, thought Isabel.
“But then,” Simon went on, “her lawyer told me the reason.
She does have a reason, you know.”
“And that would be?”
Simon hesitated. He sounded embarrassed. “Apparently she was very taken with the idea of your living there. She said that she liked the idea of you living there with your young man.
That’s the term she used.
Isabel stared out of the window at the spruce tree in the 6 8
A l e x a n d e r M c C a l l S m i t h front garden. A squirrel was sitting nervously on one of the lower branches, its tail twitching in that curious, jerky way, as if tugged by a string.
Simon continued. “I don’t like to pry, of course. It’s no concern of mine. I thought, though, that you were interested in the flat for Grace—”
“Of course I am,” Isabel said quickly. “Young man . . . Look, Simon, this really is rather funny. I asked Jamie, who is indeed a young man, to help me look over the place. He lives round the corner down there. I thought that she got the wrong end of the stick but couldn’t set her right.” She laughed. “So now she wants to help set me up in a love nest.”
Simon cleared his throat. “Well, I must admit that I was rather surprised. Mind you, why not, Isabel? There’s no reason why you shouldn’t do something like that. You’re a very attractive woman. Take a look in a mirror some day. I’m not speaking as your lawyer now, but as a friend . . .”
“It would be interesting,” Isabel said. And she imagined herself—allowed herself to imagine—walking up the steps to the flat to find Jamie already home, inside, welcoming her, and her cooking a meal for the two of them in the kitchen with the late evening light of summer on the rooftops and a glass of wine in her hand and . . .
“But back to the matter at hand,” Simon said. “What do you want to do? Do you want me to accept her offer to sell it to you?”
Isabel was about to say yes, and then she was struck by doubt. Florence Macreadie’s offer was made on the basis of a false assumption. It was true that Isabel had done nothing to encourage the other woman’s false belief, but could she let her act on it? If she did she would be taking advantage of another’s mistake, which surely was wrong. It would be like . . . What T H E R I G H T AT T I T U D E T O R A I N
6 9
would it be like? Like buying a valuable antique from a vulnerable old person who had no idea of what the thing was worth.
People did that, did they not? Unscrupulous dealers would spot a valuable item in the possession of somebody who had no clue as to its value and they would buy it for a paltry sum. It would be a valid sale from a strictly legal point of view, but morally it was something quite different. If she took the flat from Florence on these terms, then it would be taking something from her which she would not have offered had she known the truth.
“Can you let me think about this?” asked Isabel.
“Of course.”
“And is there any legal reason to turn it down?” she asked.
Simon paused before giving his answer. “No legal reason, as far as I can see. But . . . morally, I think that you wouldn’t want somebody to be disadvantaged by a false impression she laboured under.” Simon paused for a moment. “I hope that you don’t mind my saying that. You’re the one who knows all about ethics . . .”
Isabel’s response was immediate. “You’re quite right. Of course I can’t let her act on that strange idea. Of course not.”
Simon’s relief was evident in his voice. “I thought you’d come to that conclusion. I’ll let her lawyer know that his client was—how shall we put it?—misinformed. Then we can come up with a bid, same as anybody else.”
Isabel agreed, and after the exchange of a few niceties the conversation came to an end. She turned back to her desk, but did not sit down immediately. She stood for a good few minutes, staring at the books on her shelf, the serried ranks of titles.
Kant. Schopenhauer. Midgley. Kekes. All these people who had spent so much time, given up on so many other diversions (one assumed) in order to devote themselves to the elucidation of 7 0
A l e x a n d e r M c C a l l S m i t h what was right. And here she had been faced with a moment of financial temptation—the saving of ten thousand pounds—and she had hesitated in her response. She had almost said yes. She had almost told Simon that they should accept Florence’s offer immediately. She had almost done that. And everything on those shelves, all the elaborate structures of right and wrong, had been for a few moments forgotten. Which is how most people acted when it came to temptation. They gave in. And we should never forget, thought Isabel, that every one of us is capable of doing the same thing if the gain that we see for ourselves is large enough. She had often thought that if she were ever to give in to a yearning for the material it would have to be a very large sum; her price would be a high one—a kingdom. But now she had seen that the opposite was, in fact, true. Her price was as low as anybody else’s. And if she could give in over a mere matter of ten thousand pounds, could she not give in over the mere matter of a young man, a musician, whose company she so appreciated and whose profile, at the right angle, stopped her heart?
I have learned something about myself, thought Isabel.
C H A P T E R S I X
E
JOE AND MIMI settled into their routine. He went off to the National Library each morning
