'No, she's a quiet little mouse, isn't she? Not exactly pretty, but very graceful. I wonder what she knows about this business?'
'I don't suppose she knows anything,' said Mary.
'Don't you?' said Philip. 'I do.'
'Oh, you just imagine things,' said Mary.
'I'm not imagining this. Do you know what the girl said? She said she hoped she didn't know anything. Rather a curious way of putting things. I bet she does know something.'
'What sort of thing?'
'Perhaps there's something that ties in somewhere, but she herself doesn't quite realise where it does tie in. I hope to get it out of her.'
'Philip!'
'It's no good, Polly. I've got a mission in life. I've persuaded myself that it's very much in the public interest that I should get down to it. Now where shall I start? I rather think I'll work on Kirsty first. In many ways she's a simple soul.'
'I wish — oh, how I wish,' said Mary, 'that you'd give all this crazy idea up and come home. We were so happy. Everything was going along so well –' Her voice broke as she turned away.
'Polly!' Philip was concerned. 'Do you really mind so much? I didn't realise you were quite so upset.'
Mary wheeled round, a hopeful look in her eye. 'Then you will come home and forget about it all?'
'I couldn't forget about it all,' said Philip. 'I'd only go on worrying and puzzling and thinking. Let's stay here till the end of the week anyway, Mary, and then, well, we'll see.'
Chapter 16
'Do you mind if I stay on a bit, Dad?' asked Micky.
'No, of course not. I'm delighted. Is it all right with your firm?'
'Yes,' said Micky. 'I rang ' em up. I needn't be back until after the week-end. They've been very decent about it. Tina's staying over the week-end too,' he said.
He went to the window, looked out, walked across the room with hands in his pockets, gazing up at the book-shelves. He spoke then in a jerky, awkward voice.
'You know, Dad, I do appreciate really all you've done for me. Just lately I've seen — well, I've seen how ungrateful I've always been.'
'There's never been any question of gratitude,' said Leo Argyle. 'You are my son, Micky. I have always regarded you as such.'
'An odd way of treating a son,' said Micky. 'You never bossed me about.' Leo Argyle smiled, his remote, far- away smile.
'Do you really think that's the only function of a father?' he said. 'To boss his children about?'
'No,' said Micky, 'no. I suppose it isn't.' He went on, speaking in a rush. 'I've been a damned fool,' he said. 'Yes. A damned fool. It's comic in a way. Do you know what I'd like to do, what I'm thinking of doing? Taking a job with an oil company out in the Persian Gulf . That was what Mother wanted to put me into to begin with — an oil company. But I wasn't having any then! Flung off on my own.'
'You were at the age,' said Leo, 'when you wanted to choose for yourself, and you hated the idea of anything being chosen for you. You've always been rather like that, Micky. If we wanted to buy you a red sweater, you insisted you wanted a blue one, but all the time it was probably a red one you wanted.'
'True enough,' said Micky, with a short laugh. 'I've been an unsatisfactory sort of creature always.'
'Just young,' said Leo. 'Just kicking up your heels. Apprehensive of the bridle, of the saddle, of control. We all feel like that at one time in our lives, but we have to come to it in the end?'
'Yes, I suppose so,' said Micky.
'I'm very glad,' said Leo, 'that you have got this idea for the future. I don't think, you know, that just working as a car salesman and demonstrator is quite good enough for you. It's all right, but it doesn't lead anywhere.'
'I like cars,' said Micky. 'I like getting the best out of them. I can do a line of talk when I have to. Patter, patter, all the smarmy bits, but I don't enjoy the life, blast it. This is a job to do with motor transport, anyway. Controlling the servicing of cars. Quite an important job.'
'You know,' said Leo, 'that at any time you might want to finance yourself, to buy yourself into any business you thought worth while, the money is there, available. You know about the Discretionary Trust. I am quite prepared to authorise any necessary sum provided always that the business details are passed and acceptable. We would get expert opinion on that. But the money is there, ready for you if you want it.'
'Thanks, Dad, but I don't want to sponge on you.'
'There's no question of sponging, Micky, it's your money. Definitely made over to you in common with the others. All I have is the power of appointment, the when and the how. But it's not my money and I'm not giving it to you. It's yours.'
'It's Mother's money really,' said Micky.
'The Trust was made several years ago,' said Leo.
'I don't want any of it!' said Micky. 'I don't want to touch it! I couldn't! As things are, I couldn't.'
He flushed suddenly as he met his father's eye. He said uncertainly: 'I didn't –1 didn't quite mean to say that.'
'Why can't you touch it?' said Leo. 'We adopted you. That is, we took full responsibility for you, financial and otherwise. It was a business arrangement that you should be brought up as our son and properly provided for in life.'
156
'I want to stand on my own feet,' Micky repeated.
'Yes. I see you do… Very well, then, Micky, but if you change your mind, remember the money is there, waiting.'
'Thanks, Dad. It's good of you to understand. Or at least, not to understand, to let me have my way. I wish I could explain better. You see, I don't want to profit by –1 can't profit by — oh, dammit all, it's all too difficult to talk about.'
There was a knock on the door which was almost more a bump.
'That's Philip, I expect,' said Leo Argyle. 'Will you open the door for him, Micky.'
Micky went across to open the door, and Philip, working his invalid chair, propelled himself into the room.
He greeted them both with a cheerful grin.
'Are you very busy, sir?' he asked Leo. 'If so, say so. I'll keep quiet and not interruptyou and just browse along the bookshelves.'
'No,' said Leo, 'I have nothing to do this morning.' 'Gwenda not here?' asked Philip.
'She rang up to say she had a headache and couldn't come today,' said Leo. His voice was expressionless.
'I see,' said Philip.
Micky said: 'Well, I shall go and dig out Tina. Make her go for a walk. That girl hates fresh air.'
He left the room, walking with a light, springy step.
'Am I wrong,' asked Philip, 'or is there a change in Micky lately? Not scowling at the world as much as usual, is he?'
'He's growing up,' said Leo. 'It's taken rather a long time for him to do so.'
'Well, he's chosen a curious time to cheer up,' said Philip. 'Yesterday's session
with the police wasn't exactly encouraging, did you think so?'
Leo said quietly: 'It's painful, of course, to have the whole case re-opened.'
'A chap like Micky now,' said Philip, working his way along the book-shelves, pulling out a volume or two in a desultory manner, 'would you say he had much of a conscience?'
'That's an odd question, Philip.'
