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payment and handed the parcel over. "There you
are, sir, thank you."
"Thank you. Can you remind me where the
stationery department is, please?"
"This floor, sir, at the far end in the other
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building."
Harrison nodded to show he had understood the
instructions. The store had originally comprised two
separate buildings, and the owner had built
corridors and extra sales space to connect them;
this was confusing to many new visitors, but easy to
negotiate for the regular customers.
The china department came first, then the small
section devoted to diaries, address books, notebooks
and pens. A display of Christmas cards was
surrounded by eager shoppers and, avoiding the
crowd, Harrison went over to look at the items on
display in the glass-topped counter, hoping to find
some inspiration there.
"May I help you, sir?" asked a salesman, moving
towards him almost silently.
"I wish you could." Harrison paused and glanced
at the items lying against the cream satin lining of
the counter. "I'm looking for a gift for a friend; a
man."
"These are new, sir; we haven't had them in
before." The assistant placed a tray of propelling
pencils on the counter-top.
"I hadn't thought of one of these, but it's a good
idea." Harrison picked one up and examined it
thoughtfully. "Do you have any others?"
The man produced another tray, and
immediately Harrison's attention was caught by one
in particular. He picked it out and held it, to test the
comfort of its shape; it had the curves and lines of a
piece of bamboo, but all modelled in silver. It was
comfortable to hold, personal without being too
intimate, exactly what he had been hoping to find.
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"Is it solid silver?" he asked, doubtfully.
"No, sir, a silver finish."
"Perfect. I'll take it." He would have paid any
price but knew Daniel would object strongly to
accepting anything he thought too expensive;
however not even Daniel could object to the pencil
having only a silver finish.
Pleased with his purchases so far, Harrison
headed for the toy department; he was looking
forward to finding something that Joseph would
enjoy.
The whole family were at home for the evening;
unusually there were no meetings to attend, no
visitors, and there was no reason not to broach the
subject on his mind, but Harrison was reluctant to
break the peaceful scene. Todd was relaxed and at
ease, enjoying his after-dinner brandy and cigar;
his mother, her hands unoccupied for once, was
gazing into the fire lost in thought, and Alex had
resumed trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle which she
had abandoned the previous evening.
Harrison swirled the brandy in his own glass,
resolving that if he was going to speak at all it
would have to be now.
"Mother." She looked across at him expectantly.
Having gained her attention, he came straight to
the point. "I would like to invite Daniel to dinner,"
he said.
"What?" The exclamation came from Todd, who
was no longer leaning back in his chair. "You want
to invite one of your employees to dinner with the
family?"
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"Daniel is my friend," Harrison protested,
quietly. He was tired of having to make this point
over and over again.
"And you know what I think about that!"
Exasperated, Todd threw his half-finished cigar into
the fire.
"Mother?" asked Harrison. After all, it was her
decision that counted with him.
"Mother, you can't possibly agree to this!"
Elizabeth looked across at her elder son. "Why
ever not? This is still my house, Todd, and surely it
must be my decision who enters it?"
Harrison gave an inward sigh of relief. Todd had
definitely gone too far this time; nobody tried to tell
their mother what she could and could not do - she
had developed a habit of proving them wrong.
"That apart," she continued, "I like Mr Harper."
She paused there, before returning her attention to
Harrison. "Have you asked Daniel about this?"
"No, Mother, I wanted to speak to the family
first."
"Will he be quite comfortable about dining here?"
she asked, sympathetically.
Uncertain about that himself, Harrison ignored
his few misgivings. "Why not? He knows everyone
here, except Todd."
"Well, if you're sure about this, then it will be a
pleasure to invite him to dine with us. What about
the Sunday before Christmas, the twentieth?" she
added, after a moment's thought.
"Caroline and her brother are dining with us that
night," objected Todd, brusquely.
"I know that perfectly well, thank you," replied
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his mother. "Well, Harry?"
Harrison did not want to upset Todd any more
than could be helped. "Are you quite sure about the
date?" he asked his mother.
Elizabeth watched her younger son carefully
before responding. "I assume you intend to keep
Daniel as a friend?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes, of course."
"Well, then, if Caroline is going to be a part of
our family she will have to meet all our friends and
judge them for herself."
"Mother?"
"No, Todd, I mean what I say. If I can accept
your friends - and not all of them are gentlemen by
any standard - then you can accept Daniel. I'll write
an invitation to him for dinner on the twentieth;
now, can we please discuss something else?"
The next day, Harrison called at the Duke Street
lodgings on his way home; Mrs Foxley let him into
the hall, and quickly shut the door against the gusts
of sleety rain.
"Is Mr Harper at home?" he asked her.
"Yes, sir, he is. Do you want to go straight on up?"
Harrison smiled at her; he had clearly been
accepted as an appendage to the Harper family.
"I will, if you think that will be acceptable."
She responded to his comment with a toss of her
head. "Go on with you, your legs are younger than
mine." And, not waiting for an answer, she went
back into her own room and left him to it.
Joseph opened the door to his knock, and stood
back to let Harrison in. "Dad's in the bedroom, I'll
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go and get him."
Left alone Harrison took off his hat and gloves,
placing them on the dining table next to Joseph's
books. He unbuttoned his top-coat and moved over
to stand by the fire; newly-lit, its warmth had not
yet penetrated further than the hearth-rug.
"Harry?"
He turned at the sound of Daniel's voice,
responding to his presence with warm affection.
Daniel indicated one of the fireside chairs.
"Please, let me take your coat, then sit down and get
warm."
Harrison did as he was told, holding out his
hands to the fire.
"Would you like a drink?"
"Yes, thank you, I would."
Joseph joined them, shutting the door and
carefully drawing the curtain across to keep out
stray draughts before he settled himself on the rug
at Harrison's feet.
Handing Harrison a small glass of whisky,
Daniel sat down in the opposite chair. "Good
health."
"Good health." Putting down the glass, Harrison
took his mother's letter from the inside pocket of his
jacket.
"This is the reason I'm here," he said. Daniel took
the envelope with a querying look. Harrison shook
his head. "I have nothing to say. You'd better simply
read it."
Daniel did so, then glanced across to Harrison
uncertainly. "Dinner?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," agreed Harrison, his
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expression apologetic.
Joseph straightened up in interest, but Harrison
ruffled his hair in apology. "Sorry, old man, adults
only this time. We'll have tea some Sunday
afternoon instead."
With a nod of understanding Joseph settled
down again, this time leaning against Harrison's
knee.
"Whose idea was this?" demanded Daniel. "As if I
couldn't guess."
"Mine," admitted Harry. "But Mother didn't
disagree."
Having briefly seen Harrison's brother twice at
the house - when he had been all but ignored -
Daniel could imagine who had disagreed, and was
not at all comfortable about the idea of attending a
dinner with him. He re-read the invitation; far from
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