“But we don’t!” The words were out before Hilary had time to think. She felt a blush cover her cheeks and knew she had given herself away. Hastily she tried to cover her embarrassment, fearful that Nita’s sympathetic gaze would see even more than Hilary herself was aware of. “There’s so much to do,” she said awkwardly. “And so many people have already started their holidays. Mr. Dawson has his work cut out, when we’re as short-staffed as we seem to be.”
Nita had no training at all in the mysteries of psychology, but she knew instinctively there was something very amiss in the private world of Nurse Hilary, and if it were humanly possible, she intended to do something to set matters right!
“You don’t?” She echoed Hilary’s words with what she hoped was just the right amount of surprise. “Don’t tell me you’ve managed to fall out with our attractive and handsome young manager?” she joked, “I was here when he first came,” she said reminiscently, “and everyone liked him straight away. They still do—partly because if ever he has anything disagreeable to say he doesn’t beat around the bush. You know just where you are with our Mark, bless him,” she concluded.
“I thought I did,” Hilary’s guard was down before her companion’s openly sympathetic manner. “I ... he seemed so friendly at first. I thought he was genuinely concerned...”
“And has he now said he isn’t?” Nita pressed. “I mean, if you haven’t seen one another, how do you know there’s something wrong? It may just be that he’s been busy...” But she knew Hilary realized he could not have been too busy every night when the store closed to prevent his going up to the flat for half an hour, if he had really wanted to.
“It’s not just that.” Having gone so far there seemed little point in trying to evade any further discussion. In addition, if Nita had known Mark all this time she might think of something Hilary could have done or said to upset him. “His manner isn’t the same. He treats me as though ... as though I’m a piece of store furniture! It’s hurtful, Nita,” she concluded passionately. “I must have upset him in some way.”
“How long has he been like this?” Nita asked quietly, and when Hilary told her, “Only since my sister was here for the Easter break,” she nodded, thinking back. What was it Aida had said that day when Simon had driven the girls home, the day Iris had arrived from college? Then she remembered.
“I wonder how Mark reacts to the boss currying favor with the newest member of staff,” she had said sarcastically, “using his own car instead of a taxi! And driving them home even though it takes him out of his way! A mere manager, no matter how well paid he is, can’t hope to compete with that sort of thing for long, especially if he wants to save up for ... anything. But one can’t blame the girl.” Her exaggerated sigh sounded now in Nita’s ears of memory. “Any girl would be flattered by the attentions of a man so much older, so much wealthier, so much more sophisticated than Mark ... and she’ll never believe Simon’s not the marrying kind, so there’d be little point in trying to explain.”
“Hmmm.” Nita looked thoughtful. She didn’t believe for one moment that Simon Vale was the least bit interested in Hilary. She knew he was a very serious-minded man.
There was something here, Nita decided, that did not quite add up. Aida had never expressed any personal interest in Simon Vale. For one thing, she knew Laura Vale didn’t approve of her, not that Aida would worry about what Laura thought of her, Nita knew, unless it was Simon who’d captured her interest!
On the other hand, she had never made any secret of the fact that Mark Dawson’s good looks, his debonair appearance, were attractive where she was concerned. Maybe, Nita thought a little wickedly, she wasn’t attracted to Simon because she knew quite well he would never be in the least attracted to her! Mark, less aware of the wiles of a determined woman, simply because he had always avoided contact with them beyond the necessities of his work, had a good position, one that would undoubtedly improve. If he remained with Vales, in time he was almost certain to be offered a junior partnership, and if he left them, who knew what he might do? There were openings throughout the commercial world for a man with his ability.
“You don’t look very well yourself, Hilary,” she said now, completely baffling the girl by her apparent dismissal of the discussion. “I think you ought to ease off a little. Tell Simon you’d like to close the first-aid center for a week. We managed before you came, and—” she grinned “—when you go, I expect we’ll have to manage again! Surely he’d understand?”
“I wouldn’t ask him,” Hilary said stiffly. She didn’t understand this sudden subject, even though the discussion had been painful. She still wanted to ask questions about Mark, talk about him, and Nita, she felt, probably knew him better than most.
Hilary sat for a long time over a second cup of coffee when Nita had left. She had thought Nita really was interested in helping her find out what had gone wrong between herself and Mark Dawson, but it appeared that Nita had only been curious after all. Hilary felt strangely disappointed and let down, but if she had been able to see Nita’s futile attempts to find Mark alone for a few moments she would not have felt quite so alone.
As it was, Nita herself felt angry. She had known Aida too long not to be wary of that young woman, and she recognized all the signs and symptoms she had seen so often before. Aida wanted something—someone—and Aida, Nita knew, would stop at nothing to attain her desired ends.
I’ll not let her, the model vowed fiercely. They’re both too nice to have their lives ruined the way she’s ruined her own—and those of the young men who’ve had the misfortune to tangle with her. This time she’s not going to get away with it! But, honesty compelled her to admit, I don’t see how I’m going to prevent her!
Nita was no schemer. Her first idea had been to see Aida and confront her with the actual accusation of attempting to stir up trouble between Simon and Hilary and, incidentally, between the owner of the store and his manager. How she was going to prove this she had no idea, but Nita was determined to get things straight.
When she could not contact Aida, that lady, apparently, deeply engrossed in a discussion about what was selling rapidly and why, she looked for Mark.
Mark wasn’t very accessible these days, either. He was polite as always, but made it clear he was busy and had no time for idle chatter, so that she had to leave him before she had even time to bring the conversation around to the subject uppermost in her mind.
If she couldn’t talk to Aida nor Mark, then she’d have to talk to Simon, Nita reasoned. After all, it was his fault that things had gone wrong somewhere. It wasn’t like him to single out any one employee for attention. Maybe it was because he was so pleased to have a nurse on staff at last that he’d do anything to keep her here until he found someone to take her place. Monica had said Hilary would be rarin’ to go back to the wards, so surely Simon was holding out all these inducements—flat, car, home, van on weekends and all the rest, in an effort to keep her at least the year. He’d have to be made to see how unfair an attitude that was, unless there really was something more to it.
That thought was so appalling that she immediately cast it aside, but even when she went home that evening the problem of how to help Nurse Hilary remained with her. Like so many problems about which people worry unduly, the solution presented itself in an entirely unexpected way.
Another week had passed, a week in which it seemed to the model that fate was conspiring to keep her from talking with either Aida, Mark or Simon. Hilary looked quiet and controlled, but she had lost all the bright gaiety that had been so attractive.
Ever since her triumph as a beauty queen, Nita had helped one of the local charitable associations, which alternately held fetes, flag days, carnivals or anything else the committee could think of as a novel and attractive way of raising money. Nita had been at home only an hour one evening, when the secretary of the committee called on her. They were hoping to hold a fashion parade, she said, with a coffee and music session thrown in for good measu
re. Laura Vale had been a patron of the association for some time, and the committee was sure she would, as always, lend her support; but this time they wanted more than just her check. They had written asking if they might hold the parade and “coffee drinking” in Vale’s and had received a gracious reply, giving permission and stipulating only that the affair be held on the store’s customary half-day closing. The letter went on to say that Laura Vale had contacted the members of the store’s restaurant and the catering staff, and—although this wasn’t stated in the letter—had agreed to pay double wages for the extra afternoon’s work. The store’s facilities, therefore, would be at the association’s disposal, and now it remained only for the head model of Vale’s to agree to lead the parade.
Nita was delighted, especially when the secretary left it with her to see Mrs. Vale about any final or additional arrangements.
Nita listened to it all, made a few notes, then, when her visitor had left, telephoned Laura Vale at home and made an appointment to see her. Laura Vale, she was certain, wouldn’t want her beloved grandson entangled with Aida Everett, and she would be equally certain to do anything that might help along the affairs of the young and attractive manager who was as popular with Mrs. Laura as he was with his staff.
She simply had to see Aida now, she told herself firmly, and hating herself for the deception, she made a pretext of a grumble she had overheard about some of the goods a customer had purchased that were substandard.
When that little matter had been dealt with by Aida, Nita turned to the main reason for her call.
“You live somewhere near Nurse Bell’s home, don’t you, Aida?” she asked pleasantly. “I’m at the other end of Hortown, you know, and when someone told me there had been gossip about Simon’s driving Hilary home I couldn’t argue. I’m sure there’s no truth in it, but you know how unkind some people are! Just because he drops the girl off at the end of the road on his own way home...”
“If that’s all it was it wouldn’t matter, would it?” Aida could not resist letting Nita know something was happening. “It’s not a matter of dropping her off at all,” she said, half-smiling. “He takes her home ... and his car’s outside the house until late at night, early morning! It’s scandalous, just because she has a sister there she thinks that’s all the propriety required! She ought to be told that Simon Vale wouldn’t be fool enough to marry someone like her, and that she’s wasting her time for nothing. Still—” she smirked again “—I suppose the silly thing’s flattered. She looks the kind to accept anything even remotely resembling attention!”
“We’ve different opinions about that, I believe!” Nita’s eyes flashed dangerously, but Aida only laughed again.
“Stick up for her all you wish,” she said, tossing her head. “Decent men like Mark Dawson don’t want the girl they’re interested in behaving in that fashion! She ought to realize Simon Vale’s only amusing himself.”
“Then he’s the one who should be ashamed,” Nita said before she could help herself, but Aida merely laughed.
“Grow up a little, Nita,” she advised. “Everyone’s not like you—one boyfriend whom you married. You might have won a beauty competition, but you’d certainly never have won one for brains would you?” And before the astonished girl could answer she had turned away to answer the department telephone, its shrill bell cutting across her final words.
So that was it, Nita told herself, and that wasn’t a bit like Simon Vale! But Laura would know what time he was coming home, even if she didn’t always know where he’d been. Perhaps she’d been thinking along the wrong lines—maybe he’d really fallen for Hilary. Some girls liked older men, she realized, and if that was the case, it was too bad for Mark. She wondered what Monica would make of it all? But she knew she wouldn’t see Monica until the day before the charity parade, and something must be done about this situation before then!
CHAPTER EIGHT
To Hilary’s amazement the entire staff of Vale’s were at one in the effort to make the charitable affair a tremendous success. Carruthers was only one of many who said they didn’t want Mrs. Vale’s money for working overtime—after all, it was a charity affair. He had had cause to be grateful to the charitable association before now. This was merely a welcome opportunity to do something in return.
Lilian Baker, too, said she had benefited “when the kids were little and money was a bit tight,” and one by one they had voted to stay and help, in many cases simply because “Mrs. Laura’s such a good sort and does a great deal for all of us.”
“You haven’t just a store here, Simon,” Hilary commented when he popped into the first-aid center to ask if she, too, would be willing to be on duty that afternoon, “you’ve a tremendous organization. It’s a little business world of its own, and I like it. I never realized you owned factories, or that any of the staff had shares in the business.”
“Part ownership’s a good investment for both sides,” Simon was quoting Laura, but Hilary didn’t know that. “When they redouble their efforts for themselves, they redouble them for Vale’s and the Vale enterprises. It’s as simple as that. This benevolent fund isn’t just for the needy, you know, either. And it isn’t confined to people belonging to Vale’s.”
“I’ll be proud to help, Simon.” Hilary meant it. “It’s like being at St. David’s, only caring for people in a different way, if you know what I mean.”
“By the way,” Simon said, “Gran suggested you might like to take the small runabout I bought for Kate’s use and go to see that friend of yours, the one you said might be willing to replace you when you feel you have to go... maybe this weekend, if that would be convenient?”
“That would be perfect,” Hilary said warmly. She wanted to tell him—to tell someone—she had received a letter from Monica that morning and she was free on the weekend so they would be able to go together; but suddenly she didn’t feel certain he was really interested, so she thanked him coolly, reaffirmed that she was willing to do her part to help to make the charity afternoon a success. Then she busied herself sterilizing some instruments.
Talk of the charity afternoon buzzed through the store. As she listened to one or another members of the staff, or overheard some snatch of conversation as customers passed by her door, Hilary began to realize just what a tremendous firm this was and what a wonderful woman stood at its head. By the time Monica arrived, bursting with news of St. David’s, Hilary’s head was buzzing with all the wonderful things she now knew of her new world, and she was surprised to discover just how interesting that new world had turned out to be.
Mona was delighted to see them. As Hilary had half expected, she saw the opportunity of replacing Hilary at Vale’s as being the opportunity of a lifetime.
“Make arrangements to come to Vale’s when Hilary writes you, then,” Monica advised. “There’ll not be another opportunity like this one, you know. And the money’s good, too.”
They chatted on in a friendly fashion until Monica made a determined effort to leave, saying she had promised her mother she would not be late home for the evening meal. Once in the small car and on their way back, she posed the question Hilary felt she had been quietly dreading all the afternoon. “You’ll come back with me, won’t you, Hilary?” she said quietly. “Mum’s expecting you ... and the rest of the family, you know. We all want to know how you’re getting along at Vale’s.”
“Very well, so far as Vale’s is concerned, I think,” Hilary said slowly. “It’s just...”
“Just that the young idiot who’s my best-beloved brother—” Monica’s smile robbed the words of any real condemnation of Mark “—is so afraid of matrimonial tangles, of someone admiring him, that he can’t distinguish the gold from the dross, the wood from the trees and all the rest of it. I’ll make a point of having this out with him when I’m home next week. Did I tell you I’m off next Monday and Tuesday?” she concluded in the same kind of breathless little rush Hilary remembered so well and loved so much.
“You di
dn’t,” she said dryly. “How did you manage that?”
“Accumulated off-duty,” Monica said crisply. “You know how easily that can happen when we’ve had an extra busy spell on our unit. Matron was very kind about it, offered to tack the two days on now, but I’d rather have the two brief spells. But that’s not getting us anywhere,” she interrupted herself. “What’s happened, then, if you haven’t quarreled with Mark? Mum was sure that was it, because you haven’t been to see her since you went to Vale’s, and she did so much hope you would. She wanted to get to know you, I guess.”
“There’s no particular reason she should,” Hilary said with a bitterness of which she was totally unaware. “If she—and you—are thinking Mark and I...”
She couldn’t say any more just then. All the dreams she had allowed herself to dream since it had become obvious Iris’s future was assured, all the hopes and tentative fantasies she’d allowed herself to weave about herself and Mark Dawson, culminating now in an emotion that, she knew miserably, was likely to end in tears ... and after all, what was there to cry about, except that she had made a fool of herself. There was consolation in the fact that no one else, she was certain, knew she had been foolish. Monica might suspect it, but Monica too, it seemed, had dreamed along the same lines. If no one else suspected anything, then she could continue to hold her head high while she was still Nurse Hilary of Vale’s; but, she prayed silently, perhaps if she made an appointment to see Matron Rowland again before very long, she might reconsider her decision of keeping Hilary to light duties.
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