Chapter 9

Hank had already ordered a drink and was perched on a barstool when Fiona arrived on Tuesday. He could see that she was very tense. He rose to his feet and took her hand.

"Hello, Fiona. Pink tonic?"

"Yes please."

Nothing more was said until her drink arrived. She had to let go of his hand at that stage. They moved to a secluded table and sat down. Fiona took a sip of her drink, put the glass down and clasped her hands across where she might have had a belt buckle. Her fingers moved nervously.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want," Hank said softly.

She shook her head. "I owe it to you," she said.

Hank smiled gently at her. "As and when you're ready."

She bit her lip, glanced down and then looked him resolutely in the eye. "In many ways I've been foolish and pretty wet," she said. "As I told you, Jeremy was making a lot of money, we were educating the children privately and he was planning to retire at fifty. When he was killed I became totally absorbed in my own grief and the children's. It never even crossed my mind that we no longer had an income until the first school bills arrived and I realised that I was going to have to pull in my horns drastically. Jeremy had taken out a pretty hefty life insurance so that was a help and he also had a number of solid investments. He had decided against taking out any of those education insurance policies because he reckoned with school fees rising so fast that they'd never keep up whereas his income would. What he hadn't foreseen of course was his death. If there had been policies they would have guaranteed the children's fees."

She paused to sip her drink. Hank thought he knew already where this story was going. She had alluded the previous week to two incomes being better than one. His heart sank. This could be the sort of woman Barbara had warned him against.

"Anyway," she said, "I took a pull and decided that with the money we had I could see Nigel through prep school and Tessa through until she was eleven. I also decided we needed to move to a smaller house in a less expensive area. So first I started to look at state schools and then at houses in the catchment areas of what appeared to be decent schools. That's what brought us here. I think things might have been all right if I had managed to get them into the school of my choice. There were only limited vacancies and, because we were recent arrivals, we didn't get in."

"That was a bit hard."

"Yes but it always appears hard if you don't get what you want. The school wasn't allowed by law to stream their applicants and they had to find some method that appeared fair to turn people down."

Hank was looking at her thoughtfully. This was not going the way he had expected at all.

"The school they are going to," went on Fiona, "is not much cop frankly. There is a lot of truancy and pretty poor discipline. The children hate it. They don't like the big classes or the disruptive element which makes learning difficult. They both used to love games. There is very little organised sport. They also get teased cruelly about their posh accents. Their grades have plummeted and both have gone into their shells. They're snappy, fight with each other which they never used to do and are rude and cold to me. I think they blame me. Nigel actually said to me a few weeks ago, 'Daddy would never have sent us to this sink school.' It was a thoughtless remark but is a measure of his unhappiness. So the thing is that we are liable to be an emotional and financial burden to anybody who considers taking me on."

She looked at him defiantly. "You were honourable and honest enough to tell me about your Barbara last week. I felt I had to square up with you. I could have just not faced up to it and rung you to cancel today but you are too decent a man for me to have done that to you."

"I'm glad you didn't," said Hank quietly, "but you've still given me a lot to think about. Let's go and order while I collect my thoughts."

She smiled gratefully and they both moved over to look at the menu boards. Hank knew exactly what he wanted so did not have to waste thinking time on that and then he merely had to repeat Fiona's order to the girl behind the bar. He replenished their drinks at the same time.

They sat down again. Fiona looked slightly apprehensive but Hank had thought things through far enough for the time being.

"First of all, Fiona," he said, "I don't think you've been foolish or wet which was what you said you had been. The devastation of Jeremy's death and the need to get on with life for your children were good reasons for you not to start immediately to think about finances. You then made sensible decisions: downsizing, awful word, your house, moving to a less expensive area and trying to find a good state school for the children. I think that shows a lot of sense and courage against the grief you were experiencing. I just worked my socks off to avoid the grief but you were positive and I give you full marks."

She smiled, grateful and relieved. She did not say so but Hank had just earned more Brownie points: several.

"Your problem as I see it is to get the children into a better school to restore their confidence and happiness."

"Yes."

"Easier said than done and I certainly haven't got an instant solution. Would you be prepared to move again in order to find a better school?"

She nodded vehemently. "You bet and that's where I have been wet. I should have considered that long ago."

"No, Fiona, not necessarily. You've had one recent move with all that that entailed. Your already sad life has had no time to recover. I don't think you've been wet. A lot of people would have buckled and gone on the bottle."

She had to smile. "Not on my money," she said.

Hank smiled back. "Look, I haven't got an instant solution..."

"I wouldn't expect you to have."

" ... but I'll give it some thought and, if I may, talk to various people about possible ways ahead."

"Please do." She smiled and there was a hint of mischief in it, "Such as Barbara?"

Hank smiled back. "Such as Barbara but one or two others as well."

"Beggars can't be choosers."

Hank looked at her sternly. "You are not being a beggar."

"Sorry, Hank. That was a stupid and ungrateful remark."

Hank's face relaxed again. "I quite understand your being a bit prickly. I know I'd be."

She slid a hand across the table. Hank covered it with his.