Jeffrey Archer - Only Time Will Tell

Hat in place, best, and only, overcoat recently cleaned, sensible black shoes with the only pair of silk stockings she possessed, Maisie felt ready to face the other parents. When she came down the stairs, Harry was already waiting for her by the door. He looked so smart in his new uniform of claret and black that she would have liked to parade him up and down Still House Lane so the neighbours would know that someone from the street was going to Bristol Grammar School.

As they had on his first day at St Bede’s, they caught the tram, but Harry asked Maisie if they could get off one stop before University Road. She was no longer allowed to hold his hand, although she did straighten his cap and tie more than once.

When Maisie first saw the noisy gathering of young men crowded around the school gates, she said, ‘I’d better be off or I’ll be late for work,’ which puzzled Harry, because he knew Mr Frampton had given her the day off.

She gave her son a quick hug, but kept a wary eye on him as he made his way up the hill. The first person to greet him was Giles Barrington. Maisie was surprised to see him, as Harry had told her he would probably be going to Eton. They shook hands like a couple of grown men who had just closed an important deal.

Maisie could see Mr and Mrs Barrington standing at the back of the crowd. Was he making sure he avoided her? A few minutes later, Mr and Mrs Deakins joined them, accompanied by the Peloquin Memorial scholar. More handshakes, left-handed in Mr Deakins’s case.

As the parents began to take leave of their children, Maisie watched Mr Barrington as he shook hands first with his son and then with Deakins, but turned away when Harry offered his hand. Mrs Barrington looked embarrassed, and Maisie wondered if she might later ask why Hugo had ignored Giles’s closest friend. If she did, Maisie felt certain he would not tell her the real reason. Maisie feared it couldn’t be long before Harry asked why Mr Barrington always snubbed him. As long as only three people knew the truth, she couldn’t think of any reason why Harry would ever find out.

MISS TILLY HAD BECOME such a regular at the Palm Court that she even had her own table.

She would usually arrive around four o’clock, and order a cup of tea (Earl Grey) and a cucumber sandwich. She always declined to take anything from the large assortment of cream cakes, jam tarts and chocolate éclairs, but would occasionally allow herself a buttered scone. When she popped by just before five one evening, unusually late for her, Maisie was relieved that her usual table was free.

‘I wonder if I might sit somewhere a little more discreet today, Maisie. I need to have a quiet word with you.’

‘Of course, Miss Tilly,’ said Maisie, and led her to Mr Holcombe’s preferred table behind the pillar at the far end of the room. ‘I’m off in ten minutes,’ Maisie told her. ‘I’ll join you then.’

When her deputy Susan arrived to take over, Maisie explained that she would be joining Miss Tilly for a few minutes, but didn’t expect to be served.

‘Is the old duck unhappy about something?’ Susan asked.

‘That old duck taught me everything I know,’ said Maisie with a grin.

When five o’clock struck, Maisie walked across the room and took the seat opposite Miss Tilly. She rarely sat down with a customer, and on the few occasions she did, she had never felt at ease.

‘Would you care for some tea, Maisie?’

‘No, thank you, Miss Tilly.’

‘I quite understand. I’ll try not to keep you too long, but before I tell you my real purpose for wanting to see you, may I ask how Harry is getting on?’

‘I wish he’d stop growing,’ said Maisie. ‘I seem to be letting down his trousers every few weeks. At this rate his long trousers will be short trousers before the end of the year.’

Miss Tilly laughed. ‘What about his work?’

‘His end-of-term report said – ’ Maisie paused, trying to recall the exact words – ‘“A most satisfactory start. Very promising.” He came top in English.’

‘Somewhat ironic,’ said Miss Tilly. ‘If I remember correctly, that was the subject that let him down in the entrance exam.’

Maisie nodded, and tried not to think about the financial consequences of Harry not having read enough Thomas Hardy.

‘You must be very proud of him,’ said Miss Tilly. ‘And when I went to St Mary’s on Sunday, I was delighted to see that he’s back in the choir.’

‘Yes, but he now has to be satisfied with a place in the back row with the other baritones. His days as a soloist are over. But he’s joined the theatre club, and because there are no girls at BGS, he’s playing Ursula in the school play.’

‘ Much Ado About Nothing ,’ said Miss Tilly. ‘Still, I mustn’t waste any more of your time, so I’ll come to the reason I wanted to see you.’ She took a sip of tea, as if she wanted to compose herself before she spoke again, and then it all came out in a rush.

‘I’ll be sixty next month, my dear, and for some time I have been considering retiring.’

It had never crossed Maisie’s mind that Miss Tilly wouldn’t go on for ever.

‘Miss Monday and I have been thinking about moving down to Cornwall. We have our eye on a little cottage by the sea.’

You mustn’t leave Bristol, Maisie wanted to say. I love you both, and if you go, who will I turn to for advice?

‘Matters came to a head last month,’ continued Miss Tilly, ‘when a local businessman made me an offer for the tea shop. It seems he wants to add it to his growing empire. And although I don’t care for the idea of Tilly’s being part of a chain, his offer was far too tempting to turn down out of hand.’ Maisie only had one question, but she didn’t interrupt while Miss Tilly was in full flow. ‘Since then, I’ve been giving the matter a great deal of thought, and I decided that if you were able to come up with the same amount he has offered, I would rather you took over the business than I hand it over to a stranger.’

‘How much did he offer?’

‘Five hundred pounds.’

Maisie sighed. ‘I’m flattered you even thought of me,’ she said at last, ‘but the truth is, I don’t have five hundred pennies to my name, let alone five hundred pounds.’

‘I was afraid you might say that,’ said Miss Tilly. ‘But if you could find a backer, I feel sure they would consider the business a good investment. After all, I made a profit of one hundred and twelve pounds and ten shillings last year, which didn’t include my salary. I would have let you have it for less than five hundred pounds, but we’ve found a delightful little cottage in St Mawes, and the owners won’t consider a penny less than three hundred. Miss Monday and I could just about survive on our savings for a year or two, but as neither of us has a pension to fall back on, the extra two hundred pounds will make all the difference.’

Maisie was just about to tell Miss Tilly how sorry she was but it was out of the question, when Patrick Casey strolled into the room and sat down at his usual table.

It wasn’t until after they’d made love that Maisie told Patrick about Miss Tilly’s offer. He sat up in bed, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.

‘Raising that amount of capital shouldn’t prove too difficult. After all, it’s hardly Brunel trying to raise the money to build Clifton Suspension Bridge.’

‘No, but it is Mrs Clifton trying to raise five hundred pounds when she hasn’t got two halfpennies to rub together.’

‘True, but you’d be able to show a cash flow and a proven income stream, not to mention the tea shop’s goodwill. Mind you, I’ll need to look at the books for the past five years and make sure you’ve been told the whole story.’