Free The Legacy by Evelyn Anthony Page A

surprised to hear you say that,’ she said. ‘I expected you to be much more aggressive than Humfrey. What worries you about this meeting?’
    â€˜Everything,’ he said. ‘Let me come down and explain. Five-thirty, would that be all right?’
    But at five o’clock his secretary called to say he’d been delayed leaving and would be with her about eight. He was still in his office when the call was made; he had never meant to get there on time. He would be late, so late that she would have to ask him to stay for dinner. Trust had to be established and built into dependence, and this Swedish woman had all the independence and honesty of her race, and the courage that went with it. He knew the type, even though he didn’t belong to it; it wouldn’t be easy to fool her. But he had no scruples; scruples did not go with the job.
    â€˜Mummy, what time is Mr Wallberg coming?’
    â€˜Some time around eight,’ Christina told her. Belinda was twisting up her hair into a long dark pony-tail, winding a coloured band to hold it in place. She would be striking rather than pretty as she developed; she had her father’s academic gifts combined with a strong artistic talent. She drew and painted with real originality and, apart from her passion for ponies, which was a healthy pre-adolescent phase, she was a serious child with every promise of becoming a clever achieving young woman.
    So far, and in spite of local boys she met at parties, she’d shown no particular interest in boyfriends. Compared with many eleven-year-olds, Belinda was still immature, and both her parents had been relieved that the problems of adolescence seemed in abeyance. Her interest in the lawyer surprised Christina. ‘He’ll have to stay to dinner, I’m afraid, coming this late,’ she said. Belinda noticed the lack of enthusiasm.
    â€˜Don’t you like him, Mum?’
    â€˜No, not much.’ She had always been honest when asked a direct question and brought Belinda up to be the same.
    â€˜Why not? I think he’s nice.’
    â€˜Lindy, you only met him once and he said all the right things, that’s why you liked him.’
    â€˜He meant them,’ was the reply. ‘I know when people talk down to me and I hate it; he didn’t. Can I have dinner with you, then?’
    Christina smoothed out the long pony-tail of hair. ‘Darling,’ she said, ‘he’s coming on business; you can have supper in the study and watch telly. He may not even stay and, if he doesn’t, we’ll have it together.’
    â€˜I thought you’d like him,’ she persisted. ‘He’s Swedish, too.’ Christina didn’t argue. There was a very stubborn streak in her child and she knew exactly where it came from; she would have put up the same objections herself to her own parents. Downstairs Richard’s old terrier began to bark.
    â€˜I expect that’s him, now,’ she said. ‘I’ll go down. Come and say hello if you like, but don’t stay long; I want to get this over with.’
    He was waiting in the panelled drawing-room. He got up and came towards them, smiling. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Farrington, I’m terribly late. I hope you got the message from my secretary?’
    â€˜Yes, I did,’ she answered. ‘Don’t worry, it’s quite all right. Lindy wanted to say hello to you.’ He stooped slightly and shook hands with the child. It surprised Christina to see real warmth in his expression.
    â€˜Hello, Lindy. How are you? Enjoying your holiday?’
    Belinda smiled up at him. ‘Yes, I’m having a great time. I’ve been riding and staying with friends; they’ve got a super pony.’ She gave a mischievous glance towards her mother. ‘I’m trying to persuade Mum to buy me a decent pony so I can compete. We’ve got an old donkey who won’t go faster than a trot!’
    He laughed.