The Business

I woke up in the middle of the night with a dream of drowning in warm water.  Where was I?  Warm.  Warm air.  Not in Thuhn.  I felt for my torch, watch and the little monkey, then recalled where I was and flopped back.  York room, Blysecrag.  Uncle Freddy.  I lay looking up at the darkness, wondering if my drowning dream counted as a premonition and whether I should ring up the ICU to see if there was some sort of crisis.  But they had the number here: they'd phone me or Miss H if there was anything serious to report.  Better not bother them.  He'd be okay.  Sleeping soundly.  Bound to pull through.  I reached out for the netsuke monkey.

Nothing there between the watch and the torch.  Of course:  Dulsung had it, half a world away.  I hoped she looked after it.  Actually there was something there, between the torch and my watch: a little home-made artificial flower.  I patted it, turned over and went back to sleep.

'Kate, my girl.'

'Uncle Freddy.  How are you feeling?'

'Bloody awful.  Wrecked the car, you know.'

'I know.'

Breakfast had been interrupted by a call from the hospital to say that Uncle Freddy was awake and asking to see me.  There was still half an hour before the car was due to arrive, so I suggested that Miss Heggies and I go together in her ancient Volvo estate.  She just shook her head: she'd go when she was asked for.

We opened up the stables-cum-garage and I drove the Lancia Aurelia into town.  Miss H would phone the car company to tell them they wouldn't be needed.

Marion Craston was there in the ICU's small lounge, and the mystery woman.  Marion Craston was tall, athletic, a little plain, a little vague and mousy brown.  Mrs Watkins, the object of affection in Scarborough, was there too: younger than I'd expected, petite, plump, nicely turned out, lots of brassy dyed blonde hair; soft Yorkshire accent.  I thought we might all troop in together, but Uncle Freddy asked to see me alone.

Seeing the set-up closer to, I realised we couldn't all have trooped in anyway: there was just about room for one person to squeeze in between all the machines and sit by Freddy's side.  The nurse, who made sure I got settled in without tearing out any vital tubes or wires, bustled off immediately afterwards, called to some other emergency.

He looked shrivelled, reduced, lying there.  His eyes looked bright in the subdued light, but seemed shrunken back inside their bony orbs, the skin waxy and stretched thin around them.  His face and hair were the same yellow-white colour.  I patted a few stray wisps of hair back into place.

'Lovely old Delage it was,' he said.  His voice was soft and wheezy. 'No bugger'll tell me if it's a write-off or not.  Could you find out for me?'

'Of course.  Oh, I came in the Aurelia; hope you don't mind.'

'Not at all.  They need to be used.  Umm.  Have you met Mrs Watkins?'

'Just now.  She's out there with Ms Craston, the lawyer.'

Uncle Freddy wrinkled his nose. 'Don't like her.'

'Marion Craston?'

'Hmm.  Legal eagle.  More like legal vulture.' He coughed and: wheezed for a couple of seconds before I realised he was really laughing, or trying to.  I held his thin, cool hand.

'Steady, now.  You'll shake your tubes out.'

He seemed to find this funny, too.  His other arm was in a cast; he lifted the hand I was holding away for a moment to wipe at his eyes with a weak, painful-looking delicacy.

'Let me do that.' I pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.

'Thank you, Kate.'

'You're welcome.'

'I hear you've been in Thulahn.'

'Just returned.'

'Did I drag you back, my dear?'

'Well, I was ready to come back.'

'Mmm-hmm.  And how is Suvinder?'

'He's well.'

'Did he ask you anything?'

'Yes, he did.  He asked me to marry him.'

'Ah.  Care to tell an old man what your reply was?'

'I said I was flattered, but the answer was no.'

Uncle Freddy's eyes fluttered closed for a while.  I wondered if he'd gone back to sleep, and even if he was conking out on me, but there was still a weak pulse in the wrist above the hand I was holding.  His eyes came slowly open again. 'I told them it was a mad idea.'

'You told who, Uncle Freddy?' Oh, shit, I thought.  You were in on it too.  Uncle F, how could you?

'Dessous, Hazleton.' Uncle Freddy sighed.  He did his best to squeeze my hand.  There was more pressure from the weight of his thin hand than there was from his fingers. 'That's one of the things I had to say to you, Kate.'

'What, Uncle Freddy?  That you knew?'

'That I'm sorry, dear girl.'

I squeezed his hand gently. 'No need.'

'Yes, there is.  They asked me which way you'd jump, Kate, how you'd react.  They asked me not to say anything to you.  I agreed not to.  Should have.'

'Was this just Dessous and Hazleton, or did the Prince take part in these discussions?'

'Just those two, and Tommy Cholongai when they brought him in later.  They were only hoping Suvinder would pop the question; dropped a few hints, maybe.  But I should have said something to you, Kate.'

'Uncle Freddy, it's all right.'

'They're worried, Kate.  They thought they had this all tied up, but then they realised that they were relying on Suvinder's word or, more to the point, on his greed.  And it gradually dawned on them he wasn't actually as selfish as they'd assumed.  Not like them, I suppose.'

'A cultural thing, maybe.'

'Hmm.  Perhaps.  But either way, they thought if they could get you in there they'd be going some way to guaranteeing the deal.'

'I bet they did.'

'I expect they'll still go ahead.  With the whole thing.  Do you think so?'

'I have no idea.'

'I think they wanted to know how…Damn, I don't know what the word is.  Mind's going.  I don't know.'

'Take your time.'

'Oh, I don't think so.  I don't think I've… Well, anyway.  They wanted to know how you might react to the place, to the country, to the people, I suppose.  Would that maybe persuade you, if Suvinder himself didn't?  You see?'

'I think so.'

'Take it their fiendish plan didn't work, then?'

'Oh, I don't know.  I suppose I did kind of fall in love with the place.  But I can't marry the country.'

He blinked a few times and looked oddly surprised. 'Have you met Maeve?'

'What?  Mrs Watkins?  Yes.'

'Not bad, don't you think?' He winked with a sort of feeble lasciviousness.

'Pretty good, for an old codger like you,' I agreed, smiling. 'I haven't really had a chance to talk to her, but she seems very nice.'

'Very dear to me, Kate.  Very dear.'

'Good.  That's nice.  Have you known her long?'

'Oh, absolute yonks, but we've only been, you know, involved, for about a year.' He sighed. 'Lovely place, Scarborough.  You ever been?'

'No.'

'Worth a visit.  Road's not really that tricky, either.  Just impatient, I suppose.  Don't think Maeve thinks it…' He seemed to lose the thread somewhat, then shook himself out of it. 'The Prince.  Was he upset?  I mean, at you turning him down.'

'A little, but still okay about it.  More sad than anything else.  The ironic thing is I like him a lot more now.  I mean, I don't love him, but…Oh, it's all so complicated, isn't it, Freddy?  It's like you just never get the one you want.'

'Or you do, at long last, but then you go and crash your car on the way to see her and end up in somewhere like this.'

'Well, you'll just have to get better, won't you?  Though I think we'll have to get you a chauffeur after this.'

'You reckon?'

'I reckon.'

'I think a chauffeuse, don't you?'

'No, Uncle Freddy.  I think a chauffeur.'

'I don't know, Kate,' he said, looking away. 'I don't think I'll be leaving here alive.'

'Oh, come on, now, just stop that.  You'll —'