The Uncommon Appeal of Clouds by Smith Alexander McCall

Author:Smith, Alexander McCall [Smith, Alexander McCall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780307907349
Google: O7fnlgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0307949230
Barnesnoble: 0307949230
Goodreads: 13642130
Publisher: Anchor
Published: 1995-02-23T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IT WAS ALEX MUNROWE, Duncan’s daughter, who contacted Isabel with the suggestion that they meet, rather than the other way round. Isabel had thought of getting in touch with her: having met Patrick, the son, her curiosity about the family had been aroused. Duncan had said very little about his daughter, other than to mention that she lived in Nelson Street and to let drop the information that he saw her regularly when he came down to Edinburgh. There was nothing unusual about that, even if it suggested that Duncan might have a preference for the company of his daughter. He would not be the only father to feel that way; many fathers had closer relations with their daughters than with their sons. The evolutionary biologists might have something to say about that, thought Isabel, and if they did not, then the Freudians certainly would. But in this case it was no real concern of hers; she had not been asked to involve herself in the internal dynamics of the Munrowe family, and it was only curiosity that drove her to speculate about Alex.

The telephone call came on the day following Isabel’s trip to Munrowe House and her uncomfortable meeting with Heather Darnt. After introducing herself, Alex apologised for telephoning Isabel at home. But there’s nowhere else to telephone me, she thought.

“My father gave me your number,” Alex continued. “He said you wouldn’t mind my getting in touch.”

Isabel assured her that she did not mind in the least. “In fact, I was hoping to meet you at some point. Your father told me all about you.” She said that without thinking; Duncan had mentioned her, but had hardly said very much at all.

There was a silence at the other end of the line and Isabel wondered whether she had inadvertently given offence. But she had not. Alex confessed that she had been finishing off a piece of toast and had been licking butter off her fingers. “I know that sounds rude,” she said. “But I have to go out shortly and there are two calls I have to make.”

“It’s not rude at all,” said Isabel. “There may be some occasions when you certainly shouldn’t phone somebody, but while eating toast is not one of them.”

There was a further silence before Alex cleared her throat; a crumb had gone down the wrong way, Isabel decided.

“My father is very grateful to you. So am I.”

Isabel felt embarrassed. “I’ve done nothing.”

“You’re being a support for him,” said Alex. “Martha Drummond said you would be, and she was right.”

“Well,” said Isabel, “I’m sorry that he’s had this happen to him.”

“It’s awful,” agreed Alex. “Of all the pictures they could have taken, to take that one … It’s just so cruel.”

“Yes,” said Isabel. “It is.” She waited for Alex to reveal why she had called.

“Could we meet?” asked Alex. “So that I can put a face to the name.”

Isabel agreed, and a time was agreed for later that day; she was going over to that side of town, and she could drop in at about four in the afternoon, if that suited Alex.

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