44 Scotland Street by Alexander McCall Smith Page A

Todd.
    “Is everything all right?”
    “Yes. I’m sitting here in my office thinking. Things are a bit quiet. Gordon is in London looking at a building down there, and nothing much is happening in the office.”
    “Come home, then.”
    “I can’t. I can’t leave the office in the hands of the staff. On which subject, that young man, Bruce Anderson. You’ve met him.”
    “The one in your office?” said Sasha. “The good-looking one?”
    Todd paused, tripped up by the taboo that prevents one man from commenting, except adversely, on the looks of another. You couldn’t say it – you just couldn’t.
    “Hah!” he said. “I suppose the girls might say that. I don’t know about these things.”
    “He is rather dishy,” said Sasha. “Dark hair. Lovely shoulders. Well-shaped …”
    Todd felt slightly irritated. “Well-shaped what?” he asked. “He’s got a well-shaped what?”
    “Nothing. I just said well-shaped. He’s well-shaped. That’s what I meant to say.”
    Todd moved the conversation on. “Anyway, that’s the one. I’ve asked him about the ball. He says that he can come. He’ll be happy to dance with Lizzie.”
    “That’s wonderful! Lizzie met him once at that Christmas do and I think he made a bit of an impression on her. Good.”
    Todd sighed. “But there’s still this wretched problem with the tickets. Has anybody else said that they can come?”
    “No,” said Sasha. “I phoned around again this morning. A lot of people are tied up in one way or another that weekend. Archie and Molly said that they might think about it, but I hear he’s just been carted off to hospital again and so that’s them out. Perhaps we should call it off.”
    “No we won’t,” said Todd firmly. “That’s the last thing – the last thing – we’ll do. It would be a total admission of failure. We have the prizes for the tombola and the band booked. Deposits paid. We’re going ahead, even if it’s only us. That’s it.”
    “All right. And we’ll enjoy ourselves even if it’s a small party.”
    “That’s the spirit,” said Todd, now mollified.
    They rang off and he returned to staring at the ceiling. He was pleased that Sasha had approved of his decision to invite Bruce – which he had not previously consulted her about. Lizzie would like it, he was sure, and although there was something odd about that young man – the mirrors and that substance on his hair – he was probably perfectly all right under the surface. Todd was concerned about Lizzie: she wanted a boyfriend, he knew, but did not seem to have had much success in finding one. Most young men went out with

    one another these days, he had observed, which meant that there were rather few young men left over for the girls. Terrible pity.
    Perhaps something would come of this. And what would be wrong with that? If Bruce and Lizzie made a go of it, then they could take him into the partnership and the succession would be assured. And the responsibilities of marriage would soon sort Bruce out. Yes. Not a bad idea at all.

 
     
     
     
    23. Goings-on in London
     
    Gordon Todd stood by a window on the first floor of the building he had been inspecting in London. The position of the property impressed him – tucked away in a mews avenue off the Fulham Road, but close enough to really fashionable parts of Chelsea and South Kensington to attract tenants with the means to pay a substantial rent. It would be a good office, he thought, for a design studio or an advertising agency.
    His client, who had inherited the property, was wondering about selling it. That would not be difficult, Gordon thought, because the place was in good condition and he could not imagine any obvious planning drawbacks. But it might be better to hold on to it for a couple of years and see whether its value went up appreciably. He could do the arithmetic after he had spoken to his London contacts and worked out just what might be paid for a place like this.
    Gordon