Chapter 11. Confluence
The firm for which Josie sometimes escorted European tours had linked up with Dennison's, in which Mike Crampton had an interest, so it was natural to use one of his coaches for the British section, and in view of their known friendship to put her in charge of it when she could be spared from her usual job. This had happened four times, and on three of them she was able to let him know and arrange to share a meal at one or other of the night stops. On the second occasion Terry Hankins had been the driver, they got on particularly well, and afterwards Mike tried to put them together whenever possible.
The next time she was in England after the discovery of her parentage, at the first opportunity she asked about Mike. "He's well, thank you, and pretty busy, but he asked me to say that he can probably get away for dinner with you if you can spare the time."
"Good. I think I can do that." She snatched a moment to call Mike and tell him so, apologising for having time for only a few words just then.
"No need; I quite understand."
He arrived with a box of the English chocolates to which she had taken a particular fancy, and over the meal she told him her news. The big story was naturally of how the question of her father's identity had been resolved. "I hadn't realised that there was a question, but what a turn-up for the book! Meeting his brother and discovering the connection like that; I wonder what are the statistical chances?"
"Many millions to one against, I imagine."
"How did you get on with him?"
"Fine. It was very kind of him to go out of his way, quite unprompted, to tell me about meeting Donald and being with him at the time of the accident. Sal and Bill liked him, too."
"That's certainly a good recommendation."
"By the way, he was interested in the Garstein story, and would have liked to see the place where he was buried, but you'd said it was tricky to find and I couldn't be sure of remembering the detailed directions."
"Perhaps there'll be another opportunity. But his brother's the important one. Let's hope he proves equally amiable. I gather you haven't met him yet."
"There hasn't been a chance. I couldn't fit it into one of these tours."
"Might it be possible to get an extension on your stay for some family business?"
"It's not a thing I could ask. Part of my job is to see everyone through flight transfers, and I have to stay with them over the whole trip."
"So it means a special visit, either you to him or by him to you."
"That's right. Actually, I'm not quite sure how I stand there. Neil e-mailed me to say he'd explained the situation and that I'd be welcome, and it was reasonable enough for him to pass the message in the first instance as he was the one I knew, but I'd have expected his brother to follow it up personally straight away. I can't help feeling that for some reason he isn't too keen."
"Do you really want to meet him, eventually?"
"Of course, just as a matter of curiosity. I can't pretend any sense of family there. It's simply a fact, like the square on the hypotenuse and all that."
"There couldn't be any more, in the circumstances. Hmm. I wonder ..."
"What?"
"Would it help if I had a word with Neil and asked if he knew what the problem might be? If it's hurtful in some way he might be more willing to tell me than explain it to you directly."
"I'm not sure. But it's worth trying, if you wouldn't mind."
"Of course I wouldn't."
It was a few days before he could make that call. He then introduced himself as a friend of Josie, who had told him about the discovery of her parentage. "Not by any chance the friend who escorted her to Vienna?"
"Why, yes, as it happens."
"I thought you must be. She spoke of you in glowing terms."
"Well, I've been glad to help when I could. Anyway, I met her the other day while she was leading a tour over here and we discussed the possibility of her visiting her father. She had your message that she'd be welcome, but was surprised that none had come from him directly and felt it suggested that he was rather reluctant. Do you mind my asking if you know what the position really is?"
"I don't mind in the least. I'm just as puzzled myself. I was quite sure that Dennis and Molly would be delighted to find they had a daughter, or in her case a step daughter, and if there were any difficulty it would be on Molly's part, but she seems as keen as mustard to meet Josie."
"Very odd. I'd thought it might be the wife taking umbrage for one reason or another."
"Quite the opposite. I must admit I was staggered by Dennis's reluctance to get in touch."
"So there is a real reluctance, then. I'd wondered if it was a false impression."
"If so, then I share it."
"Is he perhaps questioning his paternity? That's the usual reaction, I believe - not that I've any personal experience!"
"Not at all. He accepted it immediately - no call for even the simplest medical tests, and I'd have said if anything he was rather pleased. I gave him a photo of Josie and he saw enough resemblance to our mother to satisfy him. I can't say I'd noticed it myself, but that's immaterial."
"So it's a complete mystery, then."
"Almost complete. There's just one possibility that occurs to me - please don't let this go any further, I shouldn't really be telling tales out of school - but I've lately had an impression that he's getting a bit tight-fisted in his old age. He demurred at the cost of visiting Josie in the States, and I'd have thought he could afford it easily enough. He keeps complaining about the effect of inflation on his provision for old age, too, but then we all do that - people of my generation, I mean. I can't help wondering if he's afraid she'll make some claim on his pocket."
"Now that would make some sense. Not that I think she's likely to do anything of the sort; she isn't the grasping kind. But as we don't know what's really behind the difficulty, do you think it best to hang fire until the situation becomes clearer?"
"I think maybe it would be wise. But I'm glad we've had this talk. Let me know of any developments, and I'll come back to you if I find out anything more."
Josie had given Mike her itinerary and hotel telephone numbers, but she was not immediately available when he rang so he left a message for her to call when convenient. When she did so he told her simply that he had talked to Neil, who had noticed there did seem to be some problem with Dennis but didn't know what it was, and they thought it was probably best to wait a while rather than force the issue. "Fair enough. It's bound to have been a shock for him. Can you imagine being told you had an adult daughter you'd never known existed?"
"I'm not sure that I can, but I see what you mean. Should I take it that you don't have any doubts about being his daughter?"
"I suppose we ought to have medical tests, but if he's satisfied there doesn't seem much point."
"I gathered from Neil that he accepts you without question."
"There's no point in losing any sleep over it, then. Now while we're on, there's another favour I'd like to ask you."
"What's that?"
"I'd rather not talk about it on the phone, but it would probably take a whole day some time when you're in Ashton or that area. Is that likely to be fairly soon?"
"As it happens, yes. The attorney who deals with my property there has come up with something that he says needs my personal attention, and he isn't one to pass the buck so I trust his judgement on that."
"Is it something to do with Garstein's house, or shouldn't I ask?"
"It is, though I've no idea what the particular problem may be, supposing it really is a problem. The Carters tend to fuss about next to nothing."
"You know I've heard so much about that house and what's happened about it; I'd love to see what it's actually like."
"Well, why not? I dare say that can be arranged. Weinberg said the business would take about half a day, but that would include a couple of hours travelling so it can't be much in itself. There's something th
at Dennison wants to discuss with me as well, apparently involving someone else, so I'll try to fit that in first. He says it shouldn't take long.. Then I'll drive up to Ashton to see the Carters."
"Why not stay overnight with Sal and Bill? That would save a double journey or another hotel stop."
"Are you sure that'd be all right with them?"
"Perfectly. They've often said you should do that when you're seeing the Carters."
"Better make sure this particular time is OK."
"Right. I'm due for a couple of weeks' leave in September, the tenth to the twenty-first; will a slot in there suit you?"
"I'll check and confirm."
When they met for dinner she assured him that the Hamiltons would be delighted to have him stay with them, for several more than the one or two nights if he could manage it, and he promised to look into the possibility of taking a short break. Terry Haskins, when consulted, was quite content to hold the fort for a week or so, so Mike felt he could do that.
He was getting almost blasé about transatlantic flights, although he still found the jet lag rather troublesome. It was not enough west-bound to interfere with his business, however. The meeting with Dennison was fixed for half past ten as it involved someone from Pocatello who had to check something in his office first, so Mike arranged to call first on Weinberg who apologised for having to involve Mike in a matter that was scarcely worth his attention at all. "It's the Carters and their super-conscientiousness."
"I thought as much. What's the substance of it?"
"It all stems from Iris having fallen and broken her ankle, with some complications. She was in hospital for about a week, and to make things easier for her when she came out, Joel made some minor structural additions to the house. He told me about them, and I got the agent to look them over. He's perfectly satisfied, but when Iris saw what had been done, she was furious."
"What on earth for?"
"She said he shouldn't have done anything of the sort without permission. Strictly true, of course, but when she told me about it I assured her that you would have no objection at all; I hope that was right."
"Absolutely. As far as I'm concerned they can improve it in any way they like. They're the ones living there."
"That's how I understood it. Unfortunately, even that didn't satisfy her, and she had to have your personal approval. I pointed out that she could hardly expect you to come five thousand miles or whatever it is just to ease her mind, and at least she saw the sense in that, but insisted that if you were coming anyway you should go and see what had been done. Nothing I could say would shift her from that."
"Don't worry, there's no problem. I'm going that way in any case. I've friends to visit in the town, and I'd like to see the Carters again. I've neglected them for too long."
The business with Dennison took a little longer. He introduced Mike to a proposed additional partner, Erwin Shaw, who presented his ideas for developing the business. They seemed soundly based, and he had satisfactory answers to Mike's few questions. Since they chiefly affected the American side of it and as far as Mike could see would make no difficulties for his, he was quite happy for Dennison and Shaw to arrange the details between themselves. Wishing them luck, he set off for Ashton.
Iris Carter greeted him warmly and apologised for putting him to so much trouble. "Everyone says I shouldn't have bothered you, but I was so worried when I saw what Joel had done that I couldn't sleep."
"Really, Iris, you worry too much. Mr. Morgan was quite happy with it, I gather."
"I know, people tell me I shouldn't fret so, but I can't help it. I've tried, I've really tried, but it only seems to make matters worse."
Mike thought of suggesting to Joel that some kind of treatment might ease her hypersensitive conscience, but instantly dismissed the idea in view of the likely response: "See a shrink, you mean? Not in ten million years!"
Joel's alteration to the house amounted to an extended porch with steps up to it on one side and a ramp for a wheelchair on the other, just in case of need. To Mike it seemed well conceived and soundly constructed, and in Iris's presence he congratulated Joel on his forethought and handiwork. With their anxieties soothed on that score, he suggested that in case a similar situation should arise in the future, he could provide them with a formal written authorisation to do whatever they liked.
"If you don't mind my saying so," Iris objected, "I think that's going too far. We might make some silly mistake and burn the place down."
"Hardly likely, but I see your point. Well, then, how about this? Any time you're planning an alteration you think big enough to warrant it, you prepare a detailed sketch and description and get Mr. Morgan to approve or modify it. Would that keep you happy?"
"I'd rather you saw it yourself."
"Then he can fax me a copy. Mr. Weinberg has the number." He thought it paradoxical that it was she who insisted on limiting their discretion, but if that was the way she wanted it, why should he complain?
It was agreed that he would draft the document and bring it for them all to sign the following morning. "By the way, I've a friend who's heard quite a lot about the house and the story behind it; and would very much like to see it; would you mind her coming with me tomorrow?"
"Not at all, we'd be delighted, and perhaps you could both stay for lunch?"
"That's very kind of you, Iris, but we've a long day ahead and I'm afraid it wouldn't be convenient."
"Another time, then perhaps?"
"We'll see how things go.".
They left it at that and he headed back into the town. Approaching the Hamiltons' place he wondered whether he would again find Bill splitting logs, as on the two previous occasions, but evidently it was not his sole occupation around the house. Both he and Sal had a warm welcome for him but Josie hadn't arrived yet, and Mike asked Sal if she knew what it was that needed his help. "I know it means going north again and will probably take all day, but beyond that I've no idea."
He told them about the odd behaviour of Josie's father and the conclusion he had reached with Neil about it, and they too thought it best not to push the matter too hard, at any rate until the reason for his reluctance became clearer. The news must after all have been a severe shock to Dennis, however well it might turn out in time.
"As a matter of interest, Sal, what did you make of Neil? I've only spoken to him on the phone, but he seemed a sensible type."
"We didn't see all that much of him, but he seemed thoroughly agreeable. Josie was with him a lot more - she showed him round the National Parks, you know - and was impressed. They'd talked quite seriously and he'd given her advice that she thought very well worth considering. 'A good uncle to have,' she said."
"What sort of advice?"
"She didn't say, just that it was on a difficult personal matter. It's left me wondering myself. She'd usually come to me with anything like that."
"Are you getting jealous?" asked Bill.
"No, of course not. Just surprised."
Mike was not so sure, but suggested that perhaps it was a matter on which a fresh viewpoint might be helpful. To get on to safer ground he offered his sympathy for the trouble and anxiety they must have suffered, first over Don's kidnap, and then after his release over his treatment of Josie. "I suppose it all goes back to his ordeal, being kidnapped and so on."
"Hmph!" sniffed Bill. "I don't know that it was so much of an ordeal By his own account he was given everything he wanted, bar freedom - books, films, music - women, too, I dare say, if he hadn't been such a prude. Judging by the amount of weight he'd put on he hadn't done too badly on the food, either. There are millions in this country who'd have jumped at a chance to change places with him if they'd known."
"Give me liberty or give me death," quoted Mike ironically.
Bill snorted. "You only get that from people who already have all the material comforts they want."
Josie arrived soon afterwards and explained her ideas: she would like
to see the place near Jenny Lake where the clue to Donald's kidnappers had been found, but would need his help to find it. "There's something else, too. You'll probably think it's ridiculous ..."
"I can't imagine any idea of yours being ridiculous."
"Wait till you hear it. I've been thinking of Garstein and his family having their ashes buried there. It sounds a lovely place, and ever since Don's death I've been thinking I'd like to put his there, too. Do you think it would be allowed?"
"I don't know that the question arises. It seems that no one ever asked permission; they just went ahead and did it. No one seems to mind, either. In fact the plaque on the pillar seems to suggest a positive welcome."
"Yes, but the four there already are a family group."
"Whoever put up the plaque didn't know that. 'Four unknown persons,' it reads. I can't see one more causing any offence. Anyway, they may not be the only ones."
"You mean there may be others not specially marked?"
"Well, that is a possibility, but I was thinking of another more specific."
He told her of his visit to Madge Robertson, taking her to see the place of Garstein's burial, and her wish to join him after her own death. "It was four years ago, and she didn't expect to live long after that, so she may be there already - that is if she followed my suggestion of putting the request in her will, the directions are clear enough, and anyone has bothered to act on them."
"Is that likely, do you think?"
"I don't know. They're three very big ifs, especially the last, and I got the impression that people didn't generally go out of their way to meet her wishes. I hope they would, though, in this case; Harry Weinberg said she'd had a sad life, and it would be nice to think that something went right for her in the end."
Mike asked if Bill had a mattock that they could borrow. He hadn't, but produced a sturdy long-handled trowel that he thought would serve; Mike's recollection of digging in the glade was that it should be good enough.
Next day they first had to call on the Carters, which as Mike said involved only a slight detour from the main road but might mean a considerable delay. He was a little alarmed to see that despite his comments the previous day, Iris had prepared a spread of cakes and cookies that still looked formidable though modest by her previous standards, but he said nothing and resolved to make respectable inroads into them. Having been told what to expect, Josie had limited her breakfast to a glass of orange juice so as not to disappoint Iris unduly. At the introduction Mike was amused to notice significant glances between the Carters; all right, if that was what they were thinking, he'd had similar thoughts himself.
It was therefore no surprise when Iris asked about Josie, "Is this the young lady who wanted a ride north, it must have been seven or eight years back, when Mrs. Hamilton asked whether you were a trustworthy person to take her?"
"Yes, and thank you very much her for giving me a good character reference. You've probably gathered that I enjoyed her company on that trip."
He then produced the document they had discussed, it was duly signed and Josie witnessed the signatures, to Iris's evident relief. Then of course she had to show Josie round the house, proudly pointing out all the little touches that she and Joel had added since Mr. Crampton had so kindly allowed them to use it.
"You wouldn't believe how good he's been to us," she said.
"Actually, I would. He's been extraordinarily kind to me, too."
He was a little embarrassed. "It's been my good fortune. And all through a silly mistake on my part."
He explained his confusion over Jenny Lake, which the Carters thought very amusing, although Iris soon became quite serious. "Providence, that's what it was," she declared forthrightly. "Providence. You two were obviously meant for - hmm - to meet each other."
Almost as a follow-up, when the opportunity offered, Joel rather diffidently asked Mike - although of course it was a personal matter and none of his business - whether there were any developments in view between him and Josie. "Nothing at present, although there's no telling about the future." Then he realised why Joel had seemed a shade apprehensive, and reassured him that whatever happened, nothing at all was likely to affect the arrangement they had about the house.
Getting away from them took some time. "It's ages since we've seen you, and it's such a pity you can't stay longer. For goodness' sake don't leave it so long until the next time." However, Mike eventually pointed out that they had a long way to go and must get on. Joel gave him a sly wink and a thumbs-up as they left.
On the way Mike remarked that a few weeks earlier he had come across a bunch of papers, overlooked for years, and among them were Forster's original notes to his heirs including the drawing of the marker stump by Jenny Lake, so he had been able to fax them to Weinberg to help with Madge's request. "I think they ought to be preserved more securely, but I can't think how."
"Perhaps you should put them in with an account of all that followed. It would be quite a story."
"That's an idea - if ever I get round to writing it."
"I'll nag you until you do."
It was said with a touch of humour, and Mike was pleased to find something of the old Josie returning. They had a good run up to West Yellowstone where Josie collected the urn from her apartment, then they headed off through the National Park and beyond towards Jenny Lake. Evening was approaching, but the sun still shone, bringing out the glory of the fall colours. By the time they reached the viewing point it was less than ten degrees above the Tetons. There was some high cloud, and there would probably be a splendid sunset on the other side of the mountains, but by then the east would be in deep shadow, and Mike was concerned about finding the way if darkness should fall. He did have a little difficulty in identifying the right path through the trees, since as on previous occasions the vegetation had changed since the last visit.
Approaching the clearing, they were puzzled by a curious sound, a combination of a scrape and a sharp click, repeated at intervals of about half a second in bursts of half a dozen or so. It proved to come from an elderly woman's clipping the grass around the little pillar in the centre. Something about her seemed familiar, and when she stood up he realised why. After her first surprise she asked had she not seen him before? In fact, had he not been with the army party that had been digging there for something six years back?
"My word, you've got a good memory."
"It stuck in my mind because someone said that a life depended on it."
"That's right, and thanks to what we found, a life was saved." There was no need to go into the rest of the story.
"If you don't mind my asking, what brings you back this time?"
"Oh, this is Josie Harris. She's been widowed, and would like to bury her husband's ashes here, if there's no objection."
"No objection at all, dear. Anyone's welcome, so long as it's done respectfully. But I'm very sorry for your loss. If you'll tell me his name I'll get our Jack to carve a little stone for it."
"We really don't want to put him all that trouble."
"Oh, it's no trouble, he'll love doing it. Keep him out of mischief for a little while, anyway. He needs something to occupy him since he retired last May. It's a pity we don't know who's in the other spots."
"I can give you one name - Jacob Garstein. The others are his wife and two of her relatives, but I don't know who is under which stone. If another turns up unexpectedly, it'll probably be Margaret Robertson."."
"Well, that's something to go on. If you don't mind my asking, how do you come to know it?"
"It's a long story. Briefly, it was in notes left by the friend of Garstein from whom I inherited some property. Josie here suggested I ought to write it up, and she's probably right. If you'll give me your address I'll send you a copy - assuming I ever get round to doing the job."
"That's very kind. As for your own - just leave a marker on the spot. I'll be back tomorrow, but the stone will take a good deal longer - I hope!"
&nbs
p; "It's really very good of you, Mrs ...?"
"Scattergood, Audrey Scattergood."
"Well, you've obviously been scattering a fair amount of good here."
She beamed, and then thought of something else: "Have you seen that nice Captain Martin lately?"
He was afraid not, but saw no reason to elaborate, promising to pass on her good wishes if the opportunity arose. The promise was safe enough as the likelihood meeting either of them again was negligible. She wrote her name and address on a "notes" page of his diary, then begged a blank page for the names he had given her.
"Well, I can't do any more tonight. I was thinking of trimming back some of the branches around the edge, but they look a bit tougher than I remembered and it's scarcely worth starting this evening. I'll be off now."
"Good night, and thank you."
The hole was quickly dug, Josie placed the urn and Mike smoothed out the earth above it. She stood quietly for a moment, shedding a few quiet tears, then her composure collapsed completely. She sank on to the seat, rested her head on her hands and wept unrestrainedly. Into that flood went the delights, hopes and fears of courtship, the bliss of early married life, the horror of Don's kidnap, the years of longing and anxiety during his captivity, the joy of reunion and the despair of his descent into brutal alcoholism.
Mike sat silently beside her, waiting for the storm to pass. It subsided into scattered sobs, she kept her head bowed but dropped her hands to her lap. He rested one of his on hers, and she made no objection but held it lightly. When she fished unsuccessfully for a tissue, he offered a handkerchief and she accepted it. Then she straightened up, looked up at the sky, took several deep breaths, closed her eyes and relaxed. Perhaps half a minute passed in silence. Then she turned to him, very quietly.
"Mike, do you remember, that time at Blenheim, when I asked if you were going to make a habit of getting me out of holes?"
"Yes, very well."
"And you said, if I'd let you. You've done it anyway, and I can't begin to thank you enough.
"There's no need. I've been glad to help."
"I know, and I've come to rely on it more than I realised. I'd trust you for anything. It's more than trust, too. I've kept you waiting a dreadfully long time, but at last, if you'll still have me, I'm ready."
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About the author.
Peter Wilson is a retired industrial chemist living in Seascale, on the Cumbrian coast near the north-west corner of England.
A short biography and more of his writing (short stories, plays and film scripts) may be found with contact details at his web site
https://www.peterwilson-seascale.me.uk
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