be willing to make up the past differences, if there was anything you could do without letting your mother know …
He took the first train up to London, in a state of excitement, and spent the journey visualizing the possibilities before him.
When he arrived at Paddington at a quarter to six he had no idea what he was going to do. He went into the bar and had a drink. At seven he emerged and saw a telephone box. He telephoned to the home of his father’s solicitor, and on the strength of his communication, obtained an interview that evening. He got from the solicitor an assurance that preparations for the new will would be delayed as long as possible. He received some additional advice to which he did not listen.
He went to call on Olive, but found her flat deserted. He stayed the night with some reluctant acquaintances in Notting Hill Gate. At eleven next morning he telephoned to Mrs Pettigrew and met her for lunch in a cafe in Kensington.
‘I wish you to know, Mrs Pettigrew,’ he said, ‘that I’m with you. The old man deserves a lesson. I take the moral point of view, and I’m quite willing to forgo the money.
‘I’m sure,’ said Mrs Pettigrew at first, ‘I don’t know what you mean, Mr Eric.’ She wiped the corners of her mouth with her handkerchief, pulling her lower lip askew in the process.
‘He would die,’ said Eric, ‘rather than my poor mother got to know about his gross infidelities. And so would I. In fact, Mrs Pettigrew,’ he said with his smile which had long ceased to be winning, ‘you have us both in your hands, my father and I.’
Mrs Pettigrew said, ‘I’ve done a lot for your parents. Your poor mother, before she was taken away, I had to do
‘Not a bit,’ said Eric. ‘You don’t look a day older than sixty.’
‘Well, I felt my years while I had your mother to attend to.’
‘I’m sure you did. She’s impossibly conceited,’ said Eric; ‘impossible.’
‘Quite impossible. And, now, your father —’
‘He’s impossible,’ said Eric, ‘an old brute.’
‘What exactly,’ said Mrs Pettigrew, ‘had you in mind, Mr Eric?’
‘Well, I felt it my duty to stand behind you. And here I am. Money,’ he said, ‘means hardly anything to me.
‘Ah, you can’t go far without money, Mr Eric —’
‘Do call me Eric,’ he said.
‘Eric,’ she said, ‘your best friend’s your pocket.’
‘Well, of course, a little cash at the right time is always useful. At the right time. It’s surprising, really, my father has lived so long after the life he’s led.’
‘Eric, I would never let you go short. I mean, until the time comes.’
‘You can always get ready cash out of him?’
‘Oh yes.’
Eric thought: I bet you can.
‘I think we should see him together,’ said Eric.
She looked at his little hands. Can I trust him? she wondered. The will was not yet signed and sealed.
‘Trust me,’ said Eric. ‘Two heads are better than one.
‘I would like to think it over,’ she said.
‘You would prefer to work alone?’
‘Oh, don’t say that. I mean, this plan of yours is rather sudden, and I feel, after all I’ve done for Godfrey and Charmian, I’m entitled.’
‘Perhaps, after all,’ said Eric, ‘it is my duty to go down to Surrey to see Mother and inform her of her husband’s little indiscretions. Distasteful as that course might be, in fact, it might save a lot of trouble. It would take a load off my father’s mind, and there would then be no need for you to take any further interest in him. It must be a strain on you.
She came back on him sharply: ‘You don’t know the details of your father’s affairs. I do. You have no evidence. I have. Written proof.’
‘Oh yes,’ he said, ‘I have evidence. ‘Is it bluff? she wondered.
‘When do you want to come and see him?’ she said.
‘Now,’ he said.
But when they got back, Godfrey was still out. Mrs Anthony had left. Mrs Pettigrew felt quite frightened. And when Eric started roaming about the house, picking up the china ornaments and turning them upside down to look at them, she felt quite vexed. But she held her peace. She felt she knew her man. At least she ought to, with all her experience.
When he sat down, eventually, in Charmian’s old chair, she ruffled his hair, and said, ‘Poor Eric. You’ve had a raw deal from them, haven’t you?’ He leaned his large head against her bosom and felt quite nice.
After tea Mrs Pettigrew had a slight attack of asthma and withdrew to the garden, where she got it under control. On her return she thought she saw Godfrey in the chair where she had left Eric. But it was Eric all right. He was asleep, his head lolling sideways; although in features he most resembled Charmian, he looked remarkably like
