A Mind of her Own Page 8

  ‘It’s quite true, but fancy you remembering that!’ Betty said in surprise.

  ‘And you’ve sold it?’

  ‘Yes, a few hours ago.’

  ‘How much did he give you for it?’ Tim asked again.

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ Betty asked clamping her lips tightly together. ‘Probably a lot more than it’s worth. Your great-great-grandfather only bought the picture because he knew the man who had painted it and he wanted to help him. He only paid a few pounds for it!’

  ‘It doesn’t matter how much he paid for it all those years ago, it’s what it’s worth today that counts, and I’m telling you that it’s a very valuable picture so what did you get for it?’

  Betty looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Come on,’ he demanded impatiently, ‘tell me.’

  ‘He paid me more than I expected; I thought that was making me a very generous offer.’

  ‘Mother, you are being very difficult. How much money have you managed to raise by selling the pictures and the ornaments?’ Tim pressed.

  Betty hesitated. She suddenly realized that perhaps she should have asked for more, but it wasn’t in her nature to haggle.

  ‘Come on, Mother, tell me.’

  Tim sounded so authoritative, and indeed he looked hard and businesslike she thought, as she met his dark angry gaze. So much so, that she felt herself shaking.

  ‘Didn’t he give you a separate price for the picture?’

  Betty avoided Tim’s stare and said nothing. Why was she feeling so guilty, she asked herself. She had no need to be scared of him or what he thought. It was her picture and they were her ornaments, they didn’t belong to him. They were hers and if she wanted to get rid of them then it was up to her.

  ‘What did he offer you for the picture?’ Tim persisted.

  When she remained silent, Tim said, ‘Five hundred pounds, or somewhere near that figure?’

  Betty nodded. That included the ornaments.

  ‘Heavens above!’ Tim ran his hand through his thick hair and stared at her in dismay. ‘You’ve given away a fortune; the family’s heritage,’ he said in disgust.

  ‘I think that Peter will be delighted to receive a check for five hundred pounds,’ Betty said defensively.

  ‘I think Peter is going to be pretty mad when he finds out what you’ve done to get that five hundred pounds!’

  ‘You make it sound as though I’ve been on the streets,’ Betty retorted.

  Tim shook his head, his lips curling in distaste at her crude remark. ‘I despair of you, Mother, I really do. The older you get, the more rash things you seem to do. Do you know what our picture fetched at auction?’

  ‘Of course I don’t, I wasn’t there but I’m pretty sure you are going to tell me.’

  ‘Our picture fetched two hundred and forty thousand pounds,’ he said quietly.

  ‘How much!’

  ‘Two hundred and forty thousand pounds,’ Tim repeated loudly. ‘Almost a quarter of a million pounds.’

  Betty went white. ‘Two hundred and forty thousand pounds,’ she repeated slowly, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  ‘What Mary and her family are going to say when they find out I hate to think,’ Tim muttered.

  ‘Or your precious Brenda. By the time you finish telling her the story she will probably be hopping mad and then she will come round and lecture me on what I should have done.’

  ‘Yes, Brenda will probably feel the same as I do; that it is a wicked shame to have let such a valuable family picture go in that way. And of course, there are all the ornaments you sold as well.’

  ‘Yes, I did. I was fed up with dusting them!’

  ‘Then why didn’t you offer them to the family?’

  ‘None of you seemed to be interested in them before, and I’m pretty sure that you would have got rid of them. Put them in a charity shop or something, when I am dead and gone and you had to clear out the house,’ she snapped.

  ‘We won’t be able to do anything with them now,’ Tim said icily.

  ‘You all said you didn’t like them, called them ugly in fact.’

  ‘I may well have done when I was a child and didn’t understand their value,’ Tim admitted.

  ‘And now, once I’ve finally got rid of them, you suddenly discover that they’re wonderful antiques and worth a fortune.’

  ‘If they don’t turn up at specialist auctioneers then I wouldn’t mind betting that if you look on eBay you’ll find them offered for sale there, and at prices that will astound you,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘Maybe!’ Betty said her lips tightening once again. ‘If you are so fond of them you can always buy them back, can’t you,’ she snapped. She turned away quickly, hoping that he hadn’t seen the tears that were suddenly flooding her eyes.

  She had been trying so hard to put things right, and to recompense Peter for his loss, but now she felt utterly deflated. She had meant well. At the back of her mind had been the idea that perhaps she and Peter could possibly buy the car in their joint names, and then she would have her independence and he would have a car to drive once again.

  She thought of the sum the picture had obtained at auction and felt physically sick. She had been conned, there was no doubt about that.

  It was just another sign that she was getting old, she was far too trusting, and she took people at face value. That smart young man had taken advantage of her. He had taken one look at her grey hair and turned it to his advantage.

  She remained silent because she didn’t know what to say to Tim. She understood how angry he must feel; she felt it too. She realized she should have talked to him about it, not simply gone ahead with what now seemed like a madcap idea.

  It had been such a good plan, but now she could see that it had been foolhardy.

  Still, what was done was done and there was nothing she could do to change things, she thought miserably.

  Twelve

  Betty dreaded meeting the rest of her family over Christmas because by then they would all know about her terrible mistake in letting a valuable picture go for a mere pittance, when it could have brought them a small fortune.

  She toyed with the idea of telling her daughter Mary that she was going to Tim’s for Christmas and telling him that she was going to Mary’s, then she could stay home on her own without either of them being any the wiser.

  That idea was quickly scotched when Peter came around to say that Tim had invited him to come over on Christmas Day. That clinches it, she thought ruefully. Peter had no family and if she turned down Tim’s invitation then it meant he couldn’t go and he would be on his own over Christmas.

  She could say that they weren’t coming because it meant leaving Sally on her own, but she knew that was impossible because Sally had already told Tim that she was going to her daughter’s for a few days both before and after Christmas.

  There was nothing for it but to put a brave face on things and to stand up for herself, no matter what criticism or unkind remarks the family aimed at her.

  She wondered whether or not to take Peter into her confidence and, in the end, after a great deal of thought, she decided that it would be wiser to do so, otherwise he would hear Tim and Brenda’s view of the situation rather than hers. She didn’t, however, tell him why she was so anxious to raise the money; that it was in order to partially recompense him for being out of pocket over the damage she had caused to his car.

  When she did tell him, he was silent for such a long time that she wondered if he had heard what she had said and all its implications.

  When he did comment he was very philosophical. ‘What you’ve never had you’re not going to miss,’ he commented. ‘These people should be reported to the police for taking advantage of elderly people who are out of touch with modern-day inflated prices. Anyway,’ Peter went on, ‘Tim and Brenda must have forgiven you since they’ve asked us for Christmas Day. What is the dress code, by the way?’

  Betty looked at him blankly.

  ‘Ho
w are we expected to dress? Do I wear my best suit, or do I have to go out and hire tails?’

  ‘Tails!’ Betty burst out laughing. ‘Your suit is perfect,’ she told him. ‘Or smart trousers and a blazer or jacket.’

  ‘My suit then. So what time do we need to leave?’

  ‘I’m not sure, about midday, I suppose.’

  Until that moment, Betty hadn’t given a lot of thought to what she should wear, but once Peter had brought the matter up she rummaged through her wardrobes to find what was most suitable. In the end she decided on a dark-red silk dress and a matching collarless jacket.

  Christmas Day dawned bright and crisp; the sun shining from a cloudless blue sky. Anticipating that it was going to be cold out of doors, Betty put on her thick winter coat. It wasn’t smart but it was wonderfully warm.

  Peter knocked on her door just before midday. ‘Are you ready, the taxi will be here at any moment.’

  ‘Taxi?’ Betty looked taken aback. ‘I thought we were going to walk?’

  She was about to say she would put on a smarter coat, but before she could do so, the taxi pulled up and she was too busy stowing the bags of presents and wine to have a chance to do so.

  Tim and Brenda seemed pleased to see them, but from the first moment Betty felt uncomfortable. Brenda looking very glamorous, with her hair piled up on top of her head, wearing black satin trousers and a white silk shirt. She looked extremely elegant, yet casual. It made Betty feel overdressed in her dress and jacket, especially when, as she removed her heavy coat, she saw Brenda’s eyebrows rise as she looked at her. She knew at once that Brenda had recognized it as what she had worn at Graham and Shirley’s wedding.

  Betty’s discomfort increased when Graham, Shirley and little Anna arrived. Graham was in casual trousers and a sweater, Shirley in smart black trousers and a white jumper and Anna was in a pretty party dress and immediately did a twirl to show off the frilly net petticoat underneath it.

  ‘We’ve invited Mary and her family to join us, Mother,’ Tim told her. ‘We thought you might like to have all your family under one roof for once.’

  The arrival of her daughter Mary and Mary’s husband, Toby, and their unmarried daughter, Clare, made Betty feel even more overdressed. They were all wearing jeans and Christmas jumpers.

  The meal was a traditional one and Betty enjoyed it knowing that she would not have gone to so much trouble if she had been eating at home on her own.

  Afterwards, when they were sitting in the lounge with a glass of port and a coffee, the storm broke. Betty soon found that her family were certainly not as lenient or kind-hearted as Peter.

  Brenda’s first words set the tone of criticism.

  ‘I couldn’t believe it when Tim told us what you’d done,’ she said looking at Betty. ‘I know you are old and unworldly but really you must refer to Tim before doing anything that involves family possessions. Poor Tim, he was devastated. It would have been a wonderful inheritance not only for us, but for the children and, of course, for Mary and her family.’

  Betty said nothing but she felt that there a certain coldness in the air when her grandson Graham and Shirley joined in with their very strong opinions about how she had let herself be taken in by a rogue trader.

  Peter remained discreetly silent but, from time to time, he reached out and took Betty’s hand, or gave her arm an encouraging squeeze.

  Replete with food and wine, the atmosphere improved, although several times Betty felt uncomfortable whenever she became aware of Brenda studying her critically.

  The presents she and Peter had brought with them had been placed under the tree, along with the large pile already there. Betty sipped her port out of a crystal-cut wine glass, as the group appointed Peter to act as Father Christmas and to hand round the parcels.

  He played his part magnificently by insisting that little Anna should be his assistant and carry the parcels to the appropriate recipient.

  It took a lot longer than if he had done it himself, but she was so excited that it was well worth any delay. She especially enjoyed them clapping whenever she handed them a parcel. That over, she had tremendous fun unwrapping her own presents, and then running over to whoever had given the present to her and bestowing a kiss on them.

  By this time Anna was so tired that Graham and Shirley said they really must take her home.

  Guided by a discreet signal from Betty, Peter said it was time he took Betty home so they would leave at the same time.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Tim said. ‘You must have a nightcap and then I’ll see you both home.’

  Betty shook her head, but even as she did so, she realized that grateful though she was to Peter, they could hardly refuse Tim’s invitation to stay a little longer.

  The moment the door closed behind Anna and her parents, Tim went to the drinks cabinet and Brenda attacked again.

  All the pleasure of the day dissipated, as she held forth on how she really thought it was for the best that Betty went into a home where there was someone to take care of her so that she was no longer able to do foolish things like she had done recently.

  Betty had expected criticism, but Brenda was so outspoken that she felt tears prickling behind her lids and knew that if she tried to say anything in her own defence she would end up blabbering like an idiot and give Brenda even more reason to promote her idea.

  She sat up straighter in her chair, pulled back her shoulders, and faced Brenda squarely.

  Before she could say anything in her own defence, Peter took a long swig of the Irish coffee that Tim had handed him, cleared his throat and said, ‘I don’t think you have any need to worry about Betty or her future—’

  ‘Peter, I know you are very kind and keep an eye on her but, as you have probably heard, she does such foolish things for a woman of her age that I really think that proper care is necessary. Look what happened to your car,’ she added quickly.

  ‘Would you kindly let me finish what I was going to tell you both,’ Peter said firmly.

  ‘Sorry, Peter,’ Tim said cordially. ‘Brenda is very worried about my mother and sometimes gets a little carried away.’

  ‘Right …’ Peter took another drink of his coffee. ‘What I was about to tell you was that early next year we are going to move in together. We haven’t decided on a precise date yet, but we have been contemplating it for some time. It is one of the reasons why Betty sold that picture and those ornaments. She knew I didn’t like them and, since we are planning to move into her house, she was trying to make it as comfortable for me as she could.’

  There was a hushed silence when Peter had finished speaking. Betty looked at him in astonishment, but he refused to meet her eyes. She didn’t know whether he meant it or whether he was just saying this to placate Brenda and to stop her trying to decide the future for Betty.

  All of a sudden, both Tim and Brenda were congratulating them on at last seeing sense, although Brenda did manage to put a damper on things by asking Peter if he was fully aware of the responsibility he was undertaking.

  ‘You’re getting older yourself, Peter, don’t forget. So, are you sure you want to be burdened by the responsibility of looking after Betty?’

  Betty felt so taken aback by what Peter had said that her thoughts were in a whirl, so she clamped her lips together to prevent herself from saying anything. She resented the way Brenda spoke about her as if she was an object rather than a person, or as if she wasn’t present.

  ‘Oh, I think we will rub along just fine,’ Peter said confidently. ‘We’ve been neighbours now for practically a lifetime so I think we understand each other pretty well.’

  ‘I’m only a phone call away if you ever have any problems, and always ready to help you solve them,’ Tim said magnanimously.

  Betty waited until the taxi Peter ordered had deposited them outside her cottage. ‘Are you coming in for a coffee?’ Betty asked.

  ‘I’ll come in for a few minutes, but I don’t want another coffee. I’ve eaten and drunk enough in the
last few hours to last me the rest of the week.’

  Once inside, Betty immediately asked him what he had thought he was doing by telling Tim and Brenda that they were moving in together.

  ‘Getting you out of trouble, of course,’ he said blandly.

  ‘Well, you certainly managed to do that! I’m grateful for that but now there will be pressure on us about when we are going to move in together.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. We can prevaricate for as long as you want to but, if you agree with me that it’s a good idea, the sooner we do it the better as far as I am concerned.’

  Thirteen

  It wasn’t a very happy New Year for Betty. For the first few days of January she was on edge as she waited for Peter to say something more about the announcement he had made about them moving in together.

  Finally, after several sleepless nights, she could stand the strain no longer and so she broached the subject herself.

  ‘Yes, I’d love to move in with you if you are sure that is what you want,’ he told her, his eyes lighting up at the thought of doing so.

  ‘I thought it was what you wanted,’ she said lamely. ‘It is what you said to Tim and Brenda and the others.’

  ‘That was merely to get you out of trouble over selling that picture and those ornaments,’ he rejoined with a hearty laugh. ‘Saved your bacon there, didn’t I? I could see that they were all set to give you a good telling off, and I didn’t see why they should reproach you for disposing of what was yours.’

  Betty stared at him, speechless.

  ‘I’m all in favour of us doing so though, if you are agreeable,’ Peter said in a more serious tone. ‘Is it to be your place or mine?’

  Betty shook her head uncertainly. ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured.