He picked up a file on a Lanarkshire fencing project and walked through.
“How is Gordon getting on in London, Todd?” asked Bruce.
A Daughter’s Dance Card
55
“Fine, as far as I know,” said Todd. “He’ll probably phone me at lunchtime. He’ll have taken a look at that Fulham place by then. Three thousand square feet in a good part of London, just off a main shopping street. Do you know what that’s worth?”
Bruce shrugged. “I haven’t looked at the recent tables,” he said. “I don’t deal with anything in London. I can tell you what that would be in Edinburgh or Glasgow. But not London. Lots of boodle, though. Lots.”
Todd frowned. “You should keep an eye on things, Bruce.
You should read the trade press. You should keep an eye on London.”
Bruce thought: he’s brought me here for a lecture, and his eyes glazed over.
“Yes,” said Todd. “It’s important to keep abreast of changing values in London, because that affects us. Business relocation is all about comparing prices. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” said Bruce, patiently, and then: “Have you been busy yourself, Todd? Catching up on paperwork?”
Todd looked at him warily. “A bit of reading,” he said.
“Keeping current, you know.”
Bruce smiled. “Good policy,” he said.
Todd stared at him for a moment, and then continued: “But I didn’t ask you in here to discuss work,” he said. “This is a personal matter. I hope you won’t mind if I raise it.”
Bruce was intrigued. “I don’t mind at all. Fire away.”
“You know that Mrs Todd and I enjoy quite a full social life.”
There was a note of pride in Todd’s voice.
“Yes. I saw your picture in Scottish Field. A party somewhere.”
“Indeed,” said Todd. “A party. Max Maitland-Weir’s fiftieth.
But that wasn’t the only one we’ve been to. We go out a great deal.”
Bruce nodded politely. He was not sure where this conversation was going, but it seemed to him that a proposition was about to be made.
“We’ve got tickets to a ball,” said Todd. “I’m not so wild about it, but my wife is dead set on getting a party together. My 56
Bruce Comes Under Consideration
elder daughter’s keen, too, but the problem is, well, we don’t exactly have anybody to partner her. And so I wondered whether you would be good enough to join us and perhaps have the odd dance with my daughter.” He paused, and for a moment Bruce felt a surge of sympathy for him. Poor man! That awful wife of his and that dreadful daughter of his. They were very heavy going – Bruce was well aware of that – but it seemed as if he would have to accept the invitation. It would not be easy to say no.
“I’d be honoured,” said Bruce. “What ball is it?”
“The South Edinburgh Conservative Association,” said Todd.
“I’m convener of the ball committee, and we’re having a bit of a battle getting enough people to come to it. We’ve hired the hotel, so it’s going to have to go ahead, but we’re a bit thin on the ground. In fact, it’s only going to be the four of us so far.”
Bruce stared at him mutely. Was this a social problem, he wondered, or was it a political one?
22. Bruce Comes Under Consideration After Bruce had left his office, Todd sat back in his seat and stared at the ceiling. For a few minutes he did nothing, but then he reached for the telephone, pushed a memory button labelled domestic bliss and called his wife.
Todd had married Sasha when they were both in their mid-twenties. She had just completed her training as a physiotherapist and had been one of the most popular and sociable students at Queen Margaret College. At their first meeting, Todd had decided that this was the woman whom he wished to marry, and, as he said to his brother, he had never regretted the decision for one moment.
“Really?” Gordon had said. “Are you sure?”
The question had not been intended as a slight, even if it had sounded like it. It had made Todd think, though. Was his Bruce Comes Under Consideration
57
wife as attractive and compelling a personality to others as she was to him? People had different tastes, and it might be that there were those who found her too . . . well, what could they possibly object to in her? Sasha had opinions, of course, but that was far better than being a passive, reflective sort.
Of course there was jealousy to be taken into account. Sasha was undoubtedly attractive, with her blonde hair in bouffant style and her trouser suits. She never looked anything but well turned-out, and this could attract envy. That is the problem with this country, thought Todd. We sneer at people who do well, and who want to make something of their lives. Look at the remarks which a certain sort of person makes about Bearsden. What is wrong with living in Bearsden, or, indeed, with having the sort of attitudes that go with living in Bearsden?
Nothing.
The people who ridicule people like us, thought Todd, are making up for their own failure. And there are plenty of people
– Labour politicians, for example – who want people to remain thirled to poverty, who do not want them to have any spirit or independence. These are the sort of people who think that there’s something good about having a limited life.
As he pondered these matters of political philosophy, Sasha picked up the telephone at the other end.
“Honey bunch?” she asked.
“Sugar,” replied Todd.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I’m sitting here in my office thinking. Things are a bit quiet. Gordon is in London looking at a building down there, and nothing much is happening in the office.”
“Come home, then.”
“I can’t. I can’t leave the office in the hands of the staff. On which subject, that young man, Bruce Anderson. You’ve met him.”
“The one in your office?” said Sasha. “The good-looking one?”
Todd paused, tripped up by the taboo that prevents one man from commenting, except adversely, on the looks of another. You couldn’t say it – you just couldn’t.
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Bruce Comes Under Consideration
“Hah!” he said. “I suppose the girls might say that. I don’t know about these things.”
“He is rather dishy,” said Sasha. “Dark hair. Lovely shoulders.
Well-shaped . . .”
Todd felt slightly irritated. “Well-shaped what?” he asked.
“He’s got a well-shaped what?”
“Nothing. I just said well-shaped. He’s well-shaped. That’s what I meant to say.”
Todd moved the conversation on. “Anyway, that’s the one.
I’ve asked him about the ball. He says that he can come. He’ll be happy to dance with Lizzie.”
“That’s wonderful! Lizzie met him once at that Christmas do and I think he made a bit of an impression on her. Good.”
Todd sighed. “But there’s still this wretched problem with the tickets. Has anybody else said that they can come?”
“No,” said Sasha. “I phoned around again this morning. A lot of people are tied up in one way or another that weekend. Archie and Molly said that they might think about it, but I hear he’s just been carted off to hospital again and so that’s them out.
Perhaps we should call it off.”
“No we won’t,” said Todd firmly. “That’s the last thing – the last thing – we’ll do. It would be a total admission of failure.
We have the prizes for the tombola and the band booked.
Deposits paid. We’re going ahead, even if it’s only us. That’s it.”
“All right. And we’ll enjoy ourselves even if it’s a small party.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Todd, now mollified.