‘They would get on much better without me.’
‘Why should you think that? Retta is very fond of you. She said so more than once. Besides, what sort of job do you think you could get?’
Julia found it difficult to answer the question, for she had had no training, nor any experience, and her education had been sketchy to say the least of it. Mr. Harburn was not interested in his daughter’s education (it would have been different if Julia had been a son), and Mrs. Harburn had been delicate and had often gone abroad during the winter taking Julia with her for company in her travels. Julia had enjoyed it thoroughly, of course, but it had not been so pleasant to come home and return to school and to discover that her contemporaries had left her far behind. She was fond of reading and good at languages, but she was aware that these were unlikely to help her in her search for a good post.
‘Oh well,’ said Morland with a sigh, ‘I suppose you could try to find something that would keep you busy in the mornings.’
‘That isn’t my idea at all,’ declared Julia. ‘I want a proper whole-time job because I shall want the money to pay for my board and lodging.’
‘But you aren’t proposing to leave home permanently are you? I thought it was only to be a temporary measure.’
‘I’ve told you already, Morland. They’ll get on much better without me. Retta likes to have things done in her own way and it’s difficult for me not to interfere. I shall try to get a room in a boarding-house.’
‘Oh, Julia! You wouldn’t like it. You’ve always lived in a comfortable spacious house, so how could you be happy cooped up in one room? Unless you have good reasons for leaving home you had better give up the idea.’
Julia was silent. There was only one reason for Julia’s decision to leave her father’s comfortable house, and that was Retta. Retta there in her mother’s place; sitting in her mother’s seat; running the household in a careless haphazard manner, very different from the way in which it had been run when her mother was alive. Retta was by no means the cruel stepmother of fairy stories, but she and Julia had nothing in common. Retta did not like books, she never did any sort of needlework, she did not care for a good play. Poor Retta was often bored; in fact she was always bored unless she was entertaining her own particular friends—and her friends did not appeal to Julia. Sometimes Julia wondered why Retta had married her father. Probably it was because she was tired of fending for herself and wanted a comfortable home and a good position and plenty of money to spend on clothes. . . . Well, she had got all that, so what more did she want? It was doubtful if Retta herself could have answered the question.
‘What on earth are you thinking about?’ asked Morland. ‘I don’t believe you’ve heard a word I’ve been saying.’
Julia turned to him and tried to smile. ‘Don’t be angry with me,’ she said pleadingly.
‘Darling, I’m not angry—only worried. I’m worried because I can see there’s something wrong.’
She hesitated. Dear Morland! But what could she tell him? There was nothing definite to tell him. Retta was not unkind; she just wanted Julia to get married; she wanted Julia out of her way; she was bored to death—and therefore difficult to live with; she had friends whom Julia did not like. What was there in all that? Nothing that would satisfy Morland . . . and of course Morland would find it difficult to believe that Retta was bored and difficult to live with, because she was always on her best behaviour when Morland was there.
‘It’s all right,’ declared Julia, trying to speak lightly and cheerfully. ‘There’s nothing wrong except that I haven’t got enough to do. Father and Retta will be much happier alone. It’s natural.’
‘Natural?’
‘Yes, of course. When you and I are married you wouldn’t like to have someone else living with us, would you?’
‘There’s something in that,’ he admitted.
‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ she continued. ‘It isn’t a sudden idea. Now, when they’re going away for a holiday, is a good opportunity to make the break. By the time they come back I shall have got a comfortable room and found something to do.’
Morland said nothing. She could see he thought it unlikely that she would be able to carry out her plans, and perhaps he was right. Julia was aware that it might be extremely difficult.
Chapter Two
Morland took Julia to dinner at his club, so it was after nine o’clock when she got home. She found Retta in the drawing-room yawning over a woman’s magazine.
‘This is a rotten book,’ declared Retta, throwing it down. ‘I can’t think why I bought it; there isn’t anything worth reading in it. I’ve been sitting here alone the whole evening.’
‘Why don’t you sit with Father in his study?’
‘He doesn’t want me,’ said Retta frankly. ‘He says I fidget. Well, you can’t sit perfectly still without moving a muscle for hours on end. There isn’t anything decent on TV either; just one of those tiresome plays. What have you been doing, Julia?’
‘I went to dinner with Morland at his club.’
‘He might have taken you somewhere amusing instead of that dreary old hole. I shall never forget how bored I was when he took us there to lunch; everyone in the place was over seventy—even the waiter had one foot in the grave. Oh, by the by, there was a phone message for you. It was a man with rather a nice voice.’
‘Who was it?’ asked Julia.
‘He told me his name but I can’t remember it. He said he had met you somewhere. I think it was at the Claytons’ cocktail party on Friday night.’
‘Did he say he’d met me at the Claytons’?’ asked Julia patiently. She was quite used to having messages delivered to her in this casual manner and had schooled herself not to be annoyed.
‘Yes, I think so—at any rate it doesn’t matter, does it?’
‘Did he leave a message for me?’
‘No, not really. He seemed disappointed when I said you were out. He said you were the only person he knew in London.’
‘Surely it couldn’t have been Stephen Brett!’
‘Why couldn’t it? As a matter of fact that’s exactly who it was. I remember now—Stephen Brett. His voice sounded rather nice, so I asked him to tea to-morrow.’
‘You asked him to tea!’
‘Yes, why not? He jumped at it and thanked me profusely; it was quite pathetic, really.’
‘But, Retta, I scarcely know him!’ exclaimed Julia in dismay.
‘You’ll know him better after to-morrow,’ Retta pointed out. She hesitated, and then, misreading Julia’s consternation, inquired, ‘Does the man know you’re engaged to be married?’
‘Oh yes, I told him,’ said Julia quickly. ‘It’s nothing like that. He’s just a bit lonely, that’s all. He has been out in Africa for years. His home is in Devonshire. He’s going home when he gets some business matters settled.’
‘You said you scarcely knew him, but you seem to know a lot about him! Well, I liked his voice and I thought he might be rather amusing so I asked him to tea. I’m sorry if I’ve done the wrong thing.’
‘No, of course not. It was kind of you, Retta.’
‘Don’t mention it,’ said Retta with another yawn. She added, ‘I’m off to bed. It has been a long dull evening. Thank heaven we’re going away for a holiday; I’ve had about all I can take.’
‘Retta, I want to talk to you about my plans.’
‘Well, don’t be long; I’m terribly sleepy.’
‘It won’t take more than a few minutes. You know we decided that I had better try to find a room while you and Father are away? I’ve been thinking about it and I think it would be a good thing to make the arrangement permanent. You see, I should like to get a job if possible; I should be happier if I had something to do.’
There, it was out! Perhaps it was not a good time to spring the idea on Retta, when she was tired and sleepy, but it was difficult to get her alone; either she had friends to see her or else she was rushing out in a hurry to meet someone. T
o-night was an opportunity and Julia had seized it. Her little speech had been thought out carefully beforehand. She had delivered it and now waited anxiously for Retta’s reaction.
‘Yes, it isn’t a bad idea,’ said Retta in a thoughtful voice. ‘But why on earth don’t you get married if you really intend to get married?’
‘Of course we intend to be married! I don’t know what you mean.’
Retta laughed. ‘You don’t seem very keen to fix a day for the wedding; that’s what I mean. If you really want to marry Morland you’ll have to do something about it. I may not know much about books and music—you think I’m pretty dim—but I know a good deal about men, and you can take it from me that Morland needs a good shake-up.’
‘A good shake-up!’ echoed Julia in bewildered tones.
‘Yes, he’s thoroughly selfish and pleased with himself. If that’s the sort of man you like, it’s all right—none of my business.’
Julia was so stunned with amazement that she could scarcely speak. ‘I thought—I thought you liked Morland!’ she gasped.
‘I don’t dislike him,’ replied Retta. ‘He’s always very pleasant to me. I’m just trying to tell you that if you want to marry him you had better take a firm line. It’s a good thing to give men a fright now and then—keeps them up to the mark. You’re much too soft with him, Julia.’
‘But Retta, Morland thinks——’
‘I know what you’re going to say and I’m sick of hearing you say it: “Morland thinks we should wait until he gets his partnership.” But why need you wait for that? What’s the reason? I could understand it if the Beverleys were very badly off, but old Mr. Beverley is rolling in money, so he could easily raise Morland’s screw.’
‘We want to be able to buy a nice flat.’
‘Why doesn’t Mr. Beverley buy a flat for you and furnish it and give it to you as a wedding present? There’s nothing to prevent him. The Beverleys like you and they want Morland to marry you, don’t they? How long do they think a girl like you is going to hang about waiting for their precious son?’
‘Oh, Retta, don’t talk like that! I can’t bear it!’
‘All right, I won’t say another word. I’m sorry if you’re annoyed with me, but I’ve been thinking about it for some time and I decided to warn you, that’s all.’
There was silence for a few moments.
Then Retta continued in quite a different tone. ‘As a matter of fact, unless you’re going to be married soon, it will be a very good plan for you to get a room somewhere and find a job, but you had better let me talk to Andrew about it or he may be upset.’
Julia agreed. She was only too pleased that Retta should speak to her father about her plans.
‘You’ll find a job all right if you aren’t too choosy,’ said Retta thoughtfully. ‘You’re a very good cook so you could go out and cook a slap-up dinner for people who wanted to throw a party. I used to know a girl who made a packet out of that. People get to know about you and recommend you to each other.’
‘I suppose I could,’ said Julia doubtfully.
‘I’m sure you could . . . but the first thing is to find a room. You had better start looking for one to-morrow, but don’t forget that man is coming to tea.’
‘I shan’t forget,’ promised Julia, rising to go upstairs.
‘Wait, Julia! You must have money. If you aren’t going to live at home Andrew must give you a decent allowance; that goes without saying. I can give you fifty pounds to go on with.’
‘It’s very kind of you, but I’ve got enough of my own.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ exclaimed Retta impatiently. ‘You’ve got a hundred a year which belonged to your mother, but that won’t go far. You can’t expect to get a well-paid job straight off.’
‘I’m sure I shall manage all right.’
‘Not without money. I’ve tried living on a shoe-string so I know what I’m talking about.’ Retta laughed and added frankly, ‘I’d rather you took the fifty pounds; it will make me feel less like the stepmother in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.’
‘Retta, are you sure you can spare it?’
‘Yes, I can spare it all right. Andrew gives me as much as I want.’
There was no need to say more, for they understood each other perfectly . . . and the strange thing was, Julia had never liked Retta so much.
Queer, thought Julia, as she went upstairs to bed . . . very queer . . . she’s willing to pay fifty pounds to get rid of me but I never liked her so much! I suppose it’s queer of me to accept the money (I suppose I wouldn’t take it if I had any proper pride), but I shall accept it because it will be useful and it will give me a nice safe feeling to have it in the bank.
*
2
Julia had burnt her boats; she must begin hunting for a room to-morrow. Fortunately there was no need to speak to her father about her plans; Retta was going to do that.
At the thought of her father Julia’s heart failed her a little, and she wondered if it was right to desert him. He was a strange silent man, reserved and shut up inside himself. For as long as Julia could remember, he had been like that: silent, gloomy and reserved, not interested in anything that went on around him. When she was a child Julia had accepted this as natural (children take their parents and environment for granted), but later, when she met the fathers of her friends and saw how different they were, she realised that it was very unnatural indeed and she began to think of her father’s reserve as ‘a big brown blanket.’ He was wrapped up so tightly in his big brown blanket that the real man was invisible; he seldom spoke, quite often he did not hear what was said to him. Julia sometimes looked at him as he sat at the head of the dining-room table, and wondered what he was thinking about.
She wondered whether he always wore the big brown blanket. Surely he did not wear it in his office—he was a lawyer, the senior partner in a large firm—surely he did not wear it when he went to lunch at his club.
Julia had hoped that things would improve when he married Retta, and for a few weeks it seemed that he was brighter and more alert; but quite soon he relapsed into his habitual condition of gloomy silence, spending his leisure hours shut up alone in his study, unwilling to be disturbed or distracted.
Would he be glad or sorry when he heard that his daughter intended to leave home? It was impossible to tell. One thing only was certain: Retta would be happier when she had gone, and perhaps if Retta were happier she would be more companionable . . . at least that was what Julia hoped with all her heart.
Chapter Three
Looking for rooms in London is a very tiring business. Julia spent the whole morning and most of the afternoon going from place to place and finding nothing to suit her; either the rooms were quite horrible, dark and incredibly dismal, or else they were far too expensive. She returned home about four o’clock dirty and discouraged. There was just time to wash and change before tea, and as she washed and changed and brushed her hair she began to think about Stephen Brett and the problems arising from Retta’s impulsive invitation. She wondered how she should greet him; she wondered how he would behave.
Retta was at home for tea—perhaps because she was interested to see the man whose voice she had liked—and as Stephen Brett was ten minutes late, she and Julia were waiting for him in the drawing-room when he arrived.
He greeted Julia as if he knew her well; he sat down near the tea-table and looked perfectly at home in his surroundings. Julia noticed that he was wearing a well-tailored lounge suit—brown, with a faint blue stripe—and his brown shoes were the colour of chestnuts, polished and shining. There certainly was nothing to be ashamed of in his appearance.
‘It was so kind of you to ask me, Mrs. Harburn,’ said Stephen Brett as he accepted a cup of tea from Retta. ‘I’m terribly sorry I’m late, but I had no idea it would take so long to get here. The crowds are awful—simply incredible. I expect Julia has told you I’ve been abroad for years.’
‘She said you had been in Africa.’
<
br /> ‘Yes, in the wilds,’ he replied. ‘I’m assistant manager of a mine; quite a good job and very interesting.’
‘It must be terribly lonely!’
‘Yes, but the odd thing is I find it even more lonely in London.’
Retta opened her eyes very wide and said, ‘Oh yes, I know what you mean, Mr. Brett.’
Julia was silent. She had intended to call him Mr. Brett but he had referred to her as Julia. This meant she must call him Stephen otherwise Retta would think it queer. Julia was annoyed with the man, for he had put her in a false position. The whole thing was quite ridiculous, of course. There was no harm in it—none at all. She could not have refused to speak to the man when he had spoken to her pleasantly and politely. In fact the only mistake she had made was to tell him her name . . . and how could she possibly have foreseen the consequences? How could she have foreseen that he would take the trouble to find her? How had he found her?
‘Yes, I’m going home next week,’ Stephen was saying. ‘My father and mother are anxious to see me, but I have business in Town and I thought it better to get it over and done with so that I can go home with an easy mind.’
‘Much the best plan,’ Retta told him. ‘You’ll enjoy your holiday ever so much more if you finish all your tiresome business first. What are you doing in Town—apart from business? Have you seen any plays?’
Stephen had seen two; he talked about them amusingly, but added that it was not much fun going to the theatre alone.
‘You should take Julia,’ suggested Retta.
‘Oh yes, I should like to! What would you like to see, Julia?’
‘I’m afraid I’m rather busy at the moment,’ said Julia in a prim little voice.
Julia was really very angry indeed, shaking with rage. First he had put her in the wrong by pretending he knew her well, and now he was taking it for granted that she would go to the theatre with him! He had said, ‘What would you like to see?’ as if there were no doubt whatever about her acceptance . . . and he knew perfectly well that she was engaged to be married to Morland, which made it a lot worse. She only hoped to goodness the man would go away before Morland came, as he often did about half-past six on a Friday evening. Julia was quite speechless with apprehension when she thought of what might happen if Morland came and discovered Stephen Brett sitting in the drawing-room at Manor Gardens.
The Blue Sapphire Page 2