An Exquisite Sense of What Is Beautiful Read Free Page B

the man persisted, as if somehow his father’s word was not to be believed. ‘Is that true?’
    ‘Yes it is, sir. I graduated with an honours degree from Glasgow University. And I just completed a year at teacher training college. I already have a teaching position lined up.’
    ‘I see,’ Guthrie snapped. ‘Well, the instructions are very specific. And as executor to your late uncle’s estate, I must ensure that funds can only be released in response to receipts issued entirely relating to your educational process.’
    ‘But my brother wrote this will years ago. When Edward was still at school. Surely he would have intended the money to go to him anyway. If he was aware the lad had completed his education.’
    ‘That may well be true, Mr Strathairn. But intention is of no relevance in the case of wills and testaments. Only the written or printed word as authenticated by the testator in the presence of two witnesses.’
    ‘Very Dickensian,’ his father grunted. ‘And so what will happen to the legacy?’
    ‘It will be returned to the estate and re-distributed among your late brother’s family.’
    ‘Excuse me, sir,’ Edward said. ‘May I suggest something?’
    Both his father and the lawyer turned to look at him.
    ‘Go on,’ Guthrie grumbled.
    ‘What would happen if I should want to continue my education?’
    ‘Then I shall be obliged to release the funds to you,’ the lawyer conceded in a stare over his spectacles. ‘Provided, of course, I receive the necessary receipts.’
    And in his own distorted reflection, mirrored by a slant of light in the lawyer’s spectacles, Edward recognised this moment for what it was. A moment of great clarity. It was like taking part in one of those colour blindness tests when everything appeared as a mass of strange blobs and then, out of the panic of the challenge, a number finally emerged. The truth. There it was all along. How could he not see it? Waiting to be discovered by someone with the correct vision. And here in this solicitor’s office, it was not any great decision he had to make, but merely to admit to himself what was obvious . What had been there all along.
    ‘In that case, I will go back to university.’
    ‘To do what?’ Guthrie asked.
    ‘Japanese studies.’
    ‘Japanese studies?’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Edward said, even more convinced of the rightness of his decision. Although he had no idea where he might study such a subject.
    Guthrie leaned forward on his desk. ‘I don’t think such studies are appropriate for a young citizen of the British Isles.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The Japs. They were our enemy. I know people who fought over there. Perhaps French studies might be more suitable?’
    ‘I thought I only needed to provide the necessary receipts.’
    ‘What about Chinese studies? Or African? Or South American? What do you think, Mr Strathairn?’
    ‘I think the young lad should do whatever he damn well pleases.’

CHAPTER THREE

    Hakone, Japan
•
2003
    A gentle prodding roused him.
    ‘Ah, Takahashi-san. I must have drifted off.’
    The hotel manager stepped back a pace, almost stumbling on one of the uneven slabs laid around the pond. He then bowed deeply with an enviable flexibility. He held a tartan blanket over his arm.
    ‘I am sorry to disturb you, Sir Edward. But Ms Blythe asked me to find you. Actually, she asked me to tell a bellboy to find you but I thought I would come personally. I was concerned it might be a little chilly for you out here in the garden.’
    ‘That is very considerate of you.’
    ‘But I see you are wearing your coat.’
    ‘Yes, yes. Now tell me. Is there a message?’
    ‘Professor Fisk called. Ms Blythe said it was urgent.’
    ‘Ah yes, of course. Fisk.’
    Edward struggled up from his stone perch, fumbled for his cane and followed the manager back towards the main building. Every so often, Takahashi would pause and point.
    ‘There we have some azaleas, Sir Edward. Such a beautiful early season