Or, anyway, if this old man was a good ten years beyond her own dear old Major Birkenshawe - those parchment-folds of skin at his neck, and the mottling on the back of his hands, gave that away - his voice still had an edge to it, and that brightly twinkling eye was a long way from childishness.
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'No - ' It wasn't just the distant crashing in the undergrowth, away behind her towards the car, which cut her off: it was the sudden look on the little old man's face, which lit up as though the sun had come out.
'Willy!' shouted Audley from behind her.
'Dear boy!' exclaimed the little old man happily.
9
'David, dear boy!' The little old man ducked down from the gap in the hedge, to reappear behind his white-painted picket-gate on the other side of the tree. 'What a pleasant surprise!'
'Don't talk daft, Willy.' David's face bore the same foolishly beatific expression as the little man's. 'I phoned you just this morning - remember?' He short-cutted across the grass towards them, oblivious of the horse-manure.
'Ah - ' The little man flicked a glance at Elizabeth ' -ah. But you are early, David, And that is a pleasant surprise, even though I have not had time to kill the fatted calf for you, consequently.' He opened the gate, and held out both hands to Audley.
'Yes, I'm sorry.' Audley took both the hands, then enfolded the little man in a bear-hug.
'There was a slight hitch in our programme… so one of our engagements was cancelled.'
'Not to worry, dear boy.' Once released, the little man turned his attention instantly to Elizabeth again, catching her with her mouth open in astonishment. She had never before seen Audley embrace anyone, even his wife, let alone another man. 'Now…just let me solve this young lady's problem. Now, my dear -'
"That's no young lady,' Audley interrupted him. 'Willy - meet Elizabeth Loftus. I told you I wouldn't be alone.'
It was the little man's turn to register astonishment; which he did for several seconds, as he took in Elizabeth again - face and hair, pink dress, muddy shoes and manured handbag.
But where he had been smiling at her before, now he was frowning. 'Indeed?' he said coldly.
Audley heaved a sigh. 'Oh, for Christ's sake, Willy! Elizabeth and I are colleagues, and we dummy2
are working - we are not engaged in some illicit escapade behind Faith's back.' Anpther sigh. 'Good God Almighty!'
Elizabeth watched the little old man's face break up from hardening disapproval to such embarrassment as made her instantly sorry for him. And, after all, he had at least done her the back-handed compliment of assuming the worst; whereas Audley, judging by his blasphemous reaction, couldn't even see the funny side of it.
'Mr Willis - ' She mustn't smile, and the fact that Audley regarded the possibility with irritation made that easier ' - I'm sorry - I should have introduced myself straight away.'
'Don't be sorry,' snapped Audley. 'Silly old bugger!'
Poor old Mr Willis struggled to get his face together again. 'Miss - ah - Loftus - Loftus…
Mrs Loftus - ?'
' Miss.' Audley's brutal tone, coupled with the warmth of his embrace and the look on his face when he'd got out of the car, served only to emphasize his regard for the old man.
'Sometime senior scholar at LMH - and First-Class Honours. And a hockey Blue when Oxford beat Cambridge, as well as everyone else… which is more than either of us can say, when we played our little games.' He had got the bit between his teeth now. 'Service rank… equivalent to assistant-secretary in any appropriate ministry. But not my mistress at the moment. Actually, more like my boss at this moment. So treat her respectfully, Willy.'
As he turned to Elizabeth she saw that this litany, or maybe the incongruity of its last items, had restored his good humour. 'Elizabeth, may I introduce you to Mr William Willis, Master of Arts from your university, sometime Commanding Officer of the Prince Regent's South Downs Fusiliers and latterly of the Intelligence Corps, former senior Latin master, Immingham School… and permanently - alas - my godfather and guardian.' He raised his hands apologetically. 'Which is presumably why he was so worried about my morals and your marital status just now, the silly old bugger.' He turned back to his unfortunate godfather-guardian. 'Good God, Willy - as if I had the time, never mind the inclination!'
'Miss Loftus.' The litany had also given Mr Willis time to get his act together again. 'First - I was never a real "I" Corps wallah. And I only commanded a line battalion of infantry very briefly, until they decided I was too infirm of body, if not of purpose - a depleted battalion too - audiet pugnas vitio parentum, rara iuventus. And second, I am your colleague's - or your subordinate's - former godfather and legal guardian. I relinquished those daunting responsibilities long ago, on the occasions of his confirmation and twenty-first birthday respectively.' He almost managed his original smile. 'Before that, he was a sore trial to me.'
'I can well imagine that, Mr Willis. He's a sore trial to me now.'
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'Ah… yes!' Honesty was allied with recent embarrassment. 'You really must forgive me - '
He held the gate open for her ' - do please come in - let him bring the cases… which he should have been carrying in the first place, of course.'
Elizabeth stepped carefully through the gateway, avoiding the vegetables which had fallen from Mr Willis's basket when Audley had bear-hugged him. 'There really is nothing to forgive, Mr Willis.'
'Oh, but there is!' He ignored Audley and the fallen potatoes and broad beans equally.
'And it is not even as though it is entirely his fault, either. For he did say that he might bring someone - ' He directed her along the side of the cottage, under a great cascade of clematis, alongside a bed thick with columbines and wallflowers ' -it is I who am at fault.'
' Silly old bugger!' repeated Audley, behind them.
'"Silly", unfortunately - "old", inevitably.' Mr Willis pointed her past his back-door and his dustbin, towards the garden proper. '"Bugger", I reject. Shall we settle for "fool"?'
The sitting-out side of the cottage, where thick thatch was lost in more spreading clematis, was ablaze with roses - old cottage roses competing with modern hybrids - round a tiny patio, and a lawn full of daisies to the exclusion of grass.
'Do sit down, Miss Loftus.' He indicated a trio of elderly deck-chairs. To continue my apology - but I see you are admiring my daisies.'
It didn't sound like an apology, thought Elizabeth as she lowered herself cautiously on to the faded canvas. "You have a lot of them, Mr Willis.'
'I'm thirsty, Willy,' complained Audley.
'A cup of tea, Miss Loftus?' The old man still ignored Audley. 'Or… at this hour I sometimes treat myself to a glass of hock-and-Seltzer. I find it most refreshing.'
Elizabeth smiled at him. 'That would do very well, Mr Willis.'
'Capital!' He lowered himself into the chair next to her, and then waved at Audley. 'Well -
don't just stand there, dear boy. Take the cases inside. The hock and the Seltzer is in the refrigerator, and the beer is where it always is. So chop-chop! He bobbed his head at the lawn. 'Yes… my daisies - they were there when I first came here, and I fought a great war with them, with one of those frightening selective weedkillers. But after a year or two they started to come back. And then one evening I was sitting here, planning another dummy2
massacre… and I thought suddenly how beautiful they were, with their little rayed-sun faces, sacred to the Mother Goddess. So I went and put the weedkiller in the dustbin, and we're all perfectly happy now, living together.' He watched her, but he wasn't smiling. 'It's my age, you see.'