Convenience

Part 47

His half? Can't be. He thought their marriage was for convenience. He barely knew her. She barely knew him.

David said inaudibly, "My grandfather didn't raise a fool." He said calmly. He was calm under fire. He was practical and pragmatic. And fair, normally. "If he could see me, now, he wouldn't be happy with me." He reminded her, "And, I am pretty sure that your grandfather would be really happy with you. What you have achieved." He wondered whether he sounded as uncomfortable as he felt.

Beatrice was starting to see him: his disposition. She had never pandered to him. But, with reservations, she told him, "Up until the age of twenty two I relied on my grandfather for everything." Her eyes misted. "He was my world." She said quietly.  "Having lost my parents early, he was everything to me."

David felt the same. His grandfather was everything to him. "My grandfather was my world. Having lost my parents, I mean they were there, they just didn't care, and my grandfather was everything to me." His voice grew hoarse. He glanced across at Beatrice. Saw she was unhappy and sad.

Beatrice carried on, "Reliant on my grandfather." She said honestly, "I became," She shrugged, "dependent. He provided for me."

David saw the discrepancy. His grandfather made him independent. David's grandfather helped David. He helped David to become more self-sufficient. And also focussed on their business, unlike his father. His father just used the business to support his life and his habits. He hadn't any input to David's welfare. And, from where he stood, David thought he had become like his father. He hadn't any input to Beatrice's welfare.

Beatrice glanced across at him. She thought David looked shocked. His hazel eyes showed disappointment. "Are you ok?"

He nodded and said quietly, "My grandfather helped me. He was an amazing man. He really was. Wonderful. Benevolent. Strong." He added softly as bottled-up feelings washed over him, "I respected him." He announced candidly. "I still miss him." He could believe that he had said that. To her. He had kept his feelings to himself. Concealed. Repressed. Of course, people knew he respected his grandfather. He rifled his fingers through his hair. And yet, now, he was telling her, a woman he barely knew, how he felt about his grandfather.

Beatrice's eyes were wide saucers as she processed that unexpected information. That was like a bucket of cold water. She needed to think about what she had just heard. He sounds humane! But until recently she hadn't thought it was possible! Him? With emotions. With real feelings? He wasn't a robot?

Beatrice had a soft heart. Her determination and sense of fair play were simply who she was. She looked over at David. They looked at each other. "I miss my grandfather." She said softly. She continued to explain, "My grandfather provided for me. Always had. I wanted nothing."

"Same." David nodded, but he closed his eyes and fought the tears. "He was always there.' He opened his eyes, then David added, "For me. Always. My grandfather helped me. I wanted nothing." David looked worried, "But, in my case, I became more, self-reliant, independent, well-heeled."

Beatrice studied David carefully. Beatrice understood. "Unlike me, I led a sheltered, protected, privileged life."

There was silence for several long seconds.

They couldn't understand why they were talking. About this. Feelings.

Though why he was revealing so much was a surprise to him. Emotions were raw.

Though why she was revealing so much was a surprise to her. And yet, it felt right.

Talking.

A pity they hadn't talked five years ago.

Cathartic. They needed it.

Beatrice found herself explaining. "Granddad cared for me. For as long as I can remember, he was there for me." Her grandfather had been her world. She trusted him. Knew that whatever he did for her, he did with her best interests at heart. His intentions were good. Always.

"Which is what he expected me to do when he was no longer there." He huffed out a breath and wanted to punch the wall. Beatrice nodded. He felt guilt swamp him. Five years of guilt. He respected her grandfather. He also knew that the man had trusted him to take care of his grand daughter. And David hadn't done that. He sounded depressed. He relaxed his shoulders. "And I didn't hold up my end of the bargain." David exhaled.