'Your timing is impeccable,' Mrs. Dewhurst told her. 'You're just in time for lunch.'
Embarrassed, flustered, Pamela blurted, 'I'm sorry! I don't know why I fell asleep like that. I feel all . . . kind of funny now . . . like I'm still asleep.'
'Well, let me assure you, you are quite awake. Ah, here comes the trolley. I trust your little nap hasn't spoiled your appetite?'
They talked for some time, Mrs. Dewhurst all-too-obviously avoiding referring directly to her Yorkshire home, except when she let something slip. This invariably involved her son, Theo, and when Pamela became curious enough to ask questions, the woman's replies were somewhat cryptic.
'Oh, my Theo is strong-willed and rather willful, the truth be known,' she allowed at one point. 'He can also be rather pigheaded when his mind is made up about something, and he can sometimes be . . . forceful . . . when it comes to getting what he wants. But you mustn't let that worry you! He is a perfect gentleman, or rather, he can be, when the right person comes along to put him in his place, which unfortunately doesn't happen very often.' She sighed and shook her head. 'I'm afraid that trying to fill his father's shoes has left its mark. You see, when you're very young the impression you have of your parents is that they're larger than life. Then, as you grow up, your impressions change to suit the reality. Except-' she said, pointedly, 'when that parent becomes lost to you, or misplaced. When that happens, a person ends up becoming an adult that still holds to that larger than life image, with the consequence that one either breaks trying to measure up or becomes driven to fill a larger than life mould. Either way, the consequences almost always lead to strain and unhappiness . . .'
As Mrs. Dewhurst spoke of her son in such terms, Pamela couldn't quite tell at times whether the woman was speaking of her son Theo or of Pamela herself. But one thing became abundantly clear: that Theo Dewhurst was a force to be reckoned with, and probably avoided!
They arrived at London's Heathrow Airport at midnight London time. A chauffeured limousine was waiting for them. The chauffeur, who was dressed in a smart blue-grey uniform trimmed with maroon, tipped his hat at them, got the two women settled, and put their luggage in the boot. As he got behind the wheel and closed the door, he said, 'Hotel or home, Mrs. D.?'
'The hotel, Mr. Pascoe. I'm simply exhausted.'
He nodded. 'Theo's there, so I assume he means to join us in the morning.'