‘Yes, Mrs Lumsden and Miss Hutton both hinted to me that your mother was not so strong as she looks,’ I said.
‘They didn’t tell you what she said, did they?’ said Abigail.
‘Do these secrets have any bearing on what’s happening now?’
I had never seen any family resemblance between Abigail and Mary before. Both were small, but Abigail was a plump, sweet, little dumpling of a woman still, at nearly fifty, with a round rosy cheek and a full curve to her shoulder and hip, while Mary was like an iron poker, a tiny rigid pillar of black, tight-lipped, straight-haired, the skin stretched across her jaw and her neck as though no flesh cushioned it from the bones beneath. Now, though, for the first time, I saw the mother in the daughter. Abigail’s eyes turned to chips of grey ice and her mouth was a lipless line.
‘I apologise, Mrs Aitken,’ I said, ‘if I sounded flippant. I didn’t mean to be.’ The line softened and a little blood came back into her lips, although her eyes stayed just as hard when she answered me.
‘The two things are not connected,’ she said ‘My mother felt that she had been a poor wife to my father, giving him only one child and a girl at that. And she regretted pushing me into marriage with Jack. We had been five years married when my father died and there were no grandchildren.’ Alec was squirming so hard he might almost have worn his seat away. ‘My mother thought that all her life was coming to nothing. She felt she had displeased God and was being punished for it.’ I am sure that I boggled at that, and certainly my mouth dropped open. ‘But I don’t think she deserves scorn. I think she was right. About Jack and me.’ A small sound escaped Alec’s lips. Bunty wrinkled up her brows and gave him a puzzled look. ‘We weren’t blessed the way that other marriages had been. After five years we were still waiting and Mother became convinced that we weren’t really married in the eyes of God. That we were’ – she whispered – ‘fornicators. She read her Bible day and night. Scoured it for guidance, I suppose you would say.’
‘And then eventually she… went away?’
‘For a while and when she came back she was her old self again. And I-’ Abigail flicked a glance at Alec but went on, although her cheeks burned a little, ‘I had happy news for her. Then when Mirren was born, we all doted on her. It was a wonderful time for us Aitkens.’ There was a defiant note in her voice which I did not understand. ‘We needed no one and nothing except ourselves. Bella and Mary had their granddaughter and Jack and I our daughter and all was well at home and what matter anything else.’
‘Twenty years ago,’ I said, thinking that perhaps I could, after all, guess the reason for such emphasis on the family circle and the new baby and the rest of the world go hang. Twenty years ago was when House of Hepburn arrived to end Aitkens’ Emporium’s uncontested rule of Dunfermline town.
‘We had twenty very happy years,’ said Abigail. ‘Perhaps I should be grateful for that. It’s more than some people have in a lifetime. My husband has never done anything I can berate him for and I had my lovely girl, even if I was not allowed to keep her.’ Abigail pushed Bunty’s head off her lap and stood. ‘She was bought at a price,’ said Abigail. ‘That’s a saying of my mother’s.’
‘I’ve heard her say it.’ I spoke very gently. ‘The other day.’
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said, Mrs Gilver. I can lift a burden from her, you know. I think I can. I can tell her it was not her fault that Mirren died. Shall I do that? Even if it hurts her in a new way she could not possibly be ready for. Should I?’
‘If you would tell me what you’re speaking about, Mrs Aitken,’ I said, ‘I could better advise you. Or I could go away and you could tell Mr Osborne here. He is, as you said, a very understanding man. He could help you.’ Waves of reluctance came off Alec like steam from a boiling kettle but he said nothing.
‘No,’ said Abigail. ‘I shall tell my mother – I’ve decided – that Mirren knew she wasn’t a fit wife for Dugald Hepburn, and why, and then my mother will know that she has nothing to be sorry for.’
‘You are a very good daughter,’ I said. ‘But can I give you a piece of advice, please?’ She said nothing, but waited. ‘Not today. You’re too tired today – for which I can only say sorry – and you will be better able to be kind and cushion bad news for your mother tomorrow.’
Abigail passed a hand over her brow, sweeping her hair back, and she let out a ragged sigh. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I’m in no state right now to help anyone.’
‘Rest, Mrs Aitken,’ said Alec. He had not spoken for a long time.
‘I shall rest, Mr Osborne,’ she said. ‘And perhaps I shall even sleep. And when I wake up she will still be dead. Every time I wake up, just the same.’ She nodded to both of us and left the room.
‘Well,’ said Alec. ‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’
Bunty stood up, stretched her front legs far out in front of her, leaned back and moaned. Then she stood up and shook herself all over, ears and jowls flapping.
‘Exactly, old girl,’ Alec said and he shook himself too, shuddering.
I nodded absently, for I was thinking.
‘Punishment from God,’ I said. ‘Not blessed. Not a fit wife for Dugald. Alec, I think I know what made Mirren kill herself. Roughly, anyway.’
‘I’m not sure I want to hear,’ said Alec.
‘Too bad,’ I retorted. ‘Listen: Mary shoved her daughter into a cousin marriage. No children – punishment from God. Ninian died – punishment from God. Mary cracks up. Then Abigail suddenly out of nowhere has happy news for her mother. Years later, when Mirren is grown up, Mary doesn’t want a connection with the hated Hepburns – because of the unfortunate sisters and the feud – but Mirren and Dugald are adamant. Then Abigail persuades Mirren she shouldn’t marry into a callous, thoughtless, cruel family where she would not be cherished. On the other hand, it would have been all right to marry into a family who would have cherished her for her dowry and… looked the other way with regards to other matters.’
‘What other matters?’ Alec said.
‘Children,’ I said. ‘Progeny. Roger Lawson has two younger brothers and Dugald Hepburn had only sisters. Dugald was the only hope of carrying on the Hepburn name and Mirren… I have an idea that Mirren wasn’t the girl to help him.’
‘Dandy, that is the most disgusting thing I’ve heard in my life. Where did you get such an idea?’
‘I’m sure I’m right,’ I said. ‘There was something wrong with Mirren. Something no one except her mother knew. Something Mirren couldn’t bear when she found it out.’
‘And now Abigail is going to tell her mother this monstrous thing?’ Alec said.
‘After the rest that you so sweetly advised her to take,’ I reminded him. ‘You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.’
‘What?’ said Alec. ‘I was only adding my voice to yours.’
‘Yes, but you meant it, didn’t you? I was only trying to stop her getting to Mary before we had a crack at her. Because if she’s really losing her marbles, one of them might just roll our way.’
10
Mary Aitken looked to me like a woman who had all her marbles organised in order of size and weight, cross-referenced for colour, and spinning in time as she juggled them one-handed and kept the other hand free.
‘Mrs Gilver,’ she said. ‘Did you find a pair of opera gloves that suited you?’
I bowed my head in acknowledgement.
‘Yes, Mrs Aitken, you saw through me yesterday.’
‘And you’ll not be here today to collect your fee?’ she said, stalking over to the chair opposite us and sitting down on its extreme edge. She sent a split-second, shrivelling glance towards Alec.
‘Mrs Gilver and I will not be sending you an account, Mrs Aitken,’ he said. ‘All things considered.’