‘It was. And for you? You miss them.’
‘Yes. I try not to think about them,’ I say simply. ‘But they come back. Every day. A tune, a laugh, a memory. Every day.’
‘Every day,’ he says, almost to himself. ‘But do you still look for them in crowds?’
My eyes snap to his in surprise. A laugh of recognition. ‘I do. Do you?’
He nods warmly, leaning in to top up my tea. ‘Always. Even now, when time has meant that they would be long gone regardless.’
I watch him as he pours. To have all this and no one to see it.
‘I’m glad Edward found you, Harriet. You’re not his usual. But then the woman you ask to marry you never is, is she?’ I don’t know why, but something about the way he says this unsettles me.
I’m reminded of Edward’s exes, and the power Robert has had in the past to decide who is or is not right for him. I remind myself that it is only a quirk of fate that Robert has decided to approve of me. And that approval is conditional.
‘I don’t know how much he’s told you,’ he continues, ‘about our history? About the family.’
‘Not much, to be honest,’ I say carefully.
He studies my face for the truth of that and seems to find an answer there. ‘That’s interesting,’ he says, ‘very interesting.’
He seems to come to a conclusion, leaning forward on an elbow. ‘He left ThruComm. He wanted to make a go of things on his own. His own way in the world.’ He leans back now, with a nod. ‘A noble idea, of course, to build a life from scratch. But a family business is a group endeavour. We take from the past and give to the future. We add more and pass it on. Edward is my eldest; the company should be his. But he chose another way.’ He gives me a wry look. ‘Now, Harriet, don’t misunderstand me. I’ve made peace with that part of the story. My concern now is for my family. I want him back here. Eleanor wants him back with the family. Matilda spoke with you, I understand. We all want him back and we think this engagement is a good thing. You’re good for him. I see that.’
Robert stops speaking and the crackle of the fire fills the space.
I look down at my tea, and I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. All of this just to get to Edward.
‘You’re willing to put up with me because you need him,’ I say, addressing the elephant in the room directly. ‘That’s what this is about?’ I ask, gesturing between us.
A chuckle of surprise. ‘No, no, Harriet,’ he says, his tone precise, ‘I did this to see if I was right about you. You are going to be a part of this family, so it’s very important we understand each other. It’s important we both know the facts about who we are. Because you’ll have to believe me when I say, I know the facts about you. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that you were vetted. Due diligence. All possible concerns noted, flagged.’
A slow blossoming of dread at the possibility of what a man like Robert Davison Holbeck could dig up on me. Ghosted boyfriends, broken promises, weakness. But I know he can’t know the worst – no one can —because I was alone the day my parents died. Only I know the things that happened that day.
He knows the shifts and ebbs of my life, the everyday missteps and the mistakes of youth. Things that do not touch the sides of what it is possible to truly regret.
‘You’re everything I hoped you would be, Harriet,’ he says, then gestures between us. ‘This is not about Edward. This is about us. If I lose a son in all this, I hope at least that I might gain a daughter.’
9 A Novel Idea
Thursday 24 November
As we rise to rejoin the family, he gestures for me to wait before heading back past the flickering television screens into the darkness where his desk lies. He flicks on a green desk lamp and slides open a drawer.