by Mary Cummins
“What’s the idea of this?” he said. “Cast yourself for the role of Cinderella? I saw Sylvia and Nigel go off gallivanting in his car, and I came over expecting that only desk work was keeping you at home. Now I find you’re the scullery maid, waiting hand and foot on the aunt and uncle. Where’s Mrs. Cameron?”
“Nursing her sister and brother-in-law. There’s ’flu in the village.”
“I know,” said Nigel. “As a matter of fact, old Jake Grieve is down with it very bad. I hope he gets the spunk to fight it. I like that old boy.”
“You know all the villagers well, don’t you?” asked Merry softly.
“Yes, and I believe you’re beginning to know most of them yourself. You’ve really settled down here, haven’t you?”
“I love it,” said Merry. “I wasn’t awfully happy with—”
She broke off, wondering why she was suddenly rambling on like this. It was none of Benjamin’s business anyway.
“Then why land yourself with them like this?” he asked softly. “I don’t mind seeing you work yourself to the bone in your own interests, or even for people you love and who care about you, but not after an ungrateful family. Your Aunt Ellen wouldn’t like it.”
“They’re all the family I’ve got,” she repeated to Benjamin, as she’d done to Mrs. Cameron.
“Well, you’d be better off without, as, I am,” he said. “I don’t like to see you slaving while others are enjoying themselves, and I hate a girl without spunk who just lets people walk over her, and take things away from her, while she doesn’t lift a finger in protest. She just sits in the kitchen and lets it all happen.”
Merry’s cheeks flamed furiously. There were times when Benjamin went too far, and it angered her in spite of her love for him. He’d no right to talk to her like this!
“For heaven’s sake, try to help yourself a bit more,” he told her. “You know what you want, so don’t let little butterflies like Sylvia steal your cake. Show a bit of fight, can’t you?” Merry’s eyes cleared, as she realised Benjamin wasn’t pleased about Sylvia going off with Nigel. He thought she still cared for Nigel.
“I don’t mind Nigel taking her out,” she said slowly.
“But you’re still fond of him?” asked Benjamin.
Merry turned away, wishing she could explain that it wasn’t love, because she now knew what love was. She couldn’t bear the look on Benjamin’s face if he found out she’d been stupid enough to fall in love with him. He might be kind, or he might try to laugh her out of it. Either way, she knew she couldn’t bear it. Better to let him think it was still Nigel, so she just nodded a little.
“Oh well,” he said, easing his bulk out of a sagging chair.
“There are all kinds of fools, and I can only think of one bigger one than you.”
“Wait a minute, you haven’t had anything to drink.”
“And I don’t want it,” he returned, his face suddenly cold and hard. “Feed it to the relatives, then be sure you wash up and dry all by yourself, and put hot water bottles in all their beds, including Sylvia’s. And you’d better sit up and wait for her, and have her hot drink ready, too.”
Tears stung Merry’s eyes.
“If you’ve said your piece...” she told him huskily, and Benjamin took her shoulders and turned her round to face him, then bent and kissed her swiftly.
“I suppose if you were any different, you wouldn’t be you,” he said, roughly, “but I wish you’d start thinking of yourself for a change.”
So that he wouldn’t have to think about her, thought Merry dejectedly. The kiss had seared her lips and she felt her heart beating like an excited bird in her breast. Her tears spilled over as the door closed firmly behind him. Even if there was no Stephanie, he couldn’t love her because he despised her and thought her soft and spineless. Sighing, she thought of the small secret gift she had bought him for Christmas in a moment of mad impulse. They were a small pair of lovely gold cufflinks, and as much as she could afford. Now she knew she must hide them away, and buy a tie or a book token. The gift would be a complete give-away.
Sylvia came downstairs the following morning with the news that she wanted to spend Christmas at Rossie House. She could stay there overnight, and have Christmas dinner with the Kilpatricks, who were having a small party.
“You were invited, too, darling,” she told Merry sweetly, “but I knew you’d be busy here.”
“But surely you’ll want Christmas dinner with your parents, Sylvia,” "Merry protested. A day all by herself with Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George wouldn’t exactly be full of excitement.
Aunt Elizabeth wavered. It. would be rather dull, with only Merry to keep them company, and if it hadn’t been the fact that she hated cooking, it might have been better just to have her and George on their own. If only that Mrs. Cameron hadn’t gone and taken ’flu herself now. Really, the place was most unhygienic, and she’d been having to use a gargle and mouthwash herself, and encourage George to follow suit.
Still, she liked Sylvia being friends with the Kilpatricks. They were obviously people of substance, and Nigel was charming. Sylvia could do a lot worse for herself.
“All right, darling,” she conceded. “I suppose it wouldn’t be proper to hang on to such a popular girl as yourself at Christmas time. I expect we quieter ones will have to get along without you.”
Merry bit her lip. She knew she ought to assert herself and refuse to be the doormat Benjamin accused her of being. She ought to insist that Sylvia should stay and help a little, then both could go to the party.
But she suddenly felt rather tired. She had to go to the village now, for some last-minute groceries, and to see Mrs. Cameron who had collapsed with ’flu after attending her sister. Merry had a nice gift for her, a neat brown handbag which she knew would match her coat, and she hoped it would cheer Mrs. Cameron up if she took it now.
There hadn’t been much money for Christmas gifts, not after foolishly buying Benjamin that present, but she had tried to choose wisely. Now she wondered if her gifts weren’t a bit dull, after watching Sylvia tie up several pieces of nonsense into fairy-like packages. Sylvia chose amusing, novelty things, or small pieces of luxury which rarely lasted after Christmas Day, but were lots of fun at the time. Nevertheless, it would have been nice to take her gifts to Rossie House and tie them to the huge Christmas tree to have them distributed by Mr. Kilpatrick in his Father Christmas costume. Instead, Merry found time to slip over to Rossie House on the afternoon of Christmas Eve and hand in her small parcels. The ones for Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George she saved for Christmas day.
There was still magic about Christmas, thought. Merry on Christmas morning. Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George seemed to shed their veneer of selfishness and become quite sweet towards her. If only it would last! thought Merry.
By her plate she found several small packages which, had been sent over from Rossie House, and the welcome gift of a good pair of gloves from Aunt Elizabeth and a bottle of perfume from Uncle George. Stephanie had chosen a book of poems; and Nigel’s gift gave her a great deal of pleasure when she opened the long jeweller’s box to find a pretty pendant. It was a tiger’s eye, set in silver on a silver chain, and Merry loved it on sight. Later she found that Sylvia had also received a pendant, hers being a lovely cultured pearl in a gold heart-shaped setting on a fine gold chain. Sylvia admired it, but would secretly have liked something more flamboyant.
Merry set aside all packing, and her few small gifts including the wisp of lace handkerchief from Sylvia, and tried not to feel too disappointed that there was nothing from Benjamin.
Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George complimented her on the Christmas dinner, then retired to doze a little and watch television while Merry cleared away. She was still polishing glasses, when the kitchen door opened, and Benjamin walked in.
“Why aren’t you at Rossie House?” he demanded without preamble. “I seem to do nothing else these days but talk to you across a tea towel.”
“
Oh, Benjamin!” she cried, near to tears with sudden tiredness of spirit. “Please don’t start again. Can’t you wish me a Merry Christmas instead? Look what Nigel’s given me!”
She held out the tiger’s eye pendant for his inspection.
“Very nice,” he said briefly. “Perhaps you’ll find this a bit tame, then. Thanks for the tie, by the way.”
She flushed.
“It was a poor sort of gift. Actually I ... er ... had something else in mind...”
She opened her small parcel, and exclaimed with pleasure at the dainty charm bracelet, with a tiny silver typewriter already fixed to it.
“I thought it might be fun to add a few charms now and again,” he said awkwardly, and she felt a surge of pleasure at his words. Should she run upstairs and retrieve his cufflinks? she wondered. Then she bit her lip to restrain herself. Benjamin still belonged to Stephanie. Nothing had changed, nothing at all.
“Are you coming over now?” he asked.
“Has Stephanie ... I mean, does she know you’re here?”
“The Kilpatricks gave you a firm invitation for today,” said Benjamin. “It was contained in a note sent to you via your cousin. I understand you only sent a verbal refusal, also via your cousin, and I was tempted to think you didn’t get the note.”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t.”
“Then get a move on. I’ll wait for you. And don’t keep throwing Stephanie at me every five minutes. Whatever you think of her, she’s no fool.”
“No,” said Merry, “I know she isn’t.”
“I suppose Nigel ought to have come, but...”
“He’s host, after all.” put in Merry quickly. “All right, Benjamin, I’ll change.”
She put on a pale cream silk dress against which the tiger’s eye glowed darkly brown, the pale line down the centre wavering constantly, then clipped on her charm bracelet. She brushed her russet-brown hair till it shone, and applied a bright coral lipstick, then stood back quite satisfied with her appearance. It was no good competing with either of the other two girls, and she didn’t realise that there was a warmth about her which the other two lacked. She was soothing and refreshing, and deeply satisfying to look at.
Benjamin took her hand as she said goodbye to Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George.
“But what about tea?” Aunt Elizabeth asked querulously. “Surely you are leaving no one in the house by going out like this? I’ve already explained that I’m in a very over-tired state at the moment, and any extra work is bad for me.”
“There’s plenty of turkey left, Aunt Elizabeth,” Merry told her. “I’ve cut quite a few slices and there’s salad already mixed, and Christmas cake.”
“Well!” Aunt Elizabeth’s tone wasn’t at all mollified, and Merry found that Benjamin was gripping her arm tightly, his lips compressed. She knew he’d be furious if she changed her mind.
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” she said sweetly. “Don’t wait up. I may be late.”
“They’re utterly selfish, and you don’t improve them one little bit,” said Benjamin explosively, when they got outside. “You pander to them like a servant girl in Victorian times. You practically lick their boots!”
“It isn’t true,” protested Merry, laughing a little at his exaggeration. “Besides, they gave me a home when I had none, and I don’t forget that.”
“What sort of a home could those two give anybody?” he demanded. “Oh, come on before I start to shake you. And if you don’t enjoy yourself this evening, relax a bit and have a good time, I shall push you in the loch at the next opportunity. You’ll dance if I have to dance every dance with you myself.”
“Don’t bother,” Merry told him. “I think I can find my own partners.”
Rossie House was in a gay, festive mood, and Stephanie seemed genuinely pleased to see Merry, even if Sylvia’s face momentarily took on a sulky expression, especially when Nigel came forward to greet her.
“The pendant’s lovely,” she told him, as he swept her into a dance. “It’s so unusual.”
“Rather like you, Merry,” he told her seriously. “You look very pretty tonight”
“Thank you, Nigel,” she smiled, her eyes suddenly bright. It was wonderful to feel gay and lighthearted again, and she looked round at the crowd of young people, many of whom she had met already. Stephanie was dancing with David Bruce and Sylvia ... Sylvia was dancing with Benjamin and smiling up into his face. Merry saw him smile in return and bend down to listen to something she had to say, then laugh with amusement. She looked away and smiled again at Nigel. She was fast getting to the stage where the very sight of Benjamin with anyone else was causing her pain.
“Why do I love him so much?” she asked herself. “Sometimes he isn’t even nice to me, and hectors me shamefully, yet I only want him in the whole world. Why can’t I accept that I can’t have him, and learn to look on him objectively?”
But she could find no answer. She could feel the small charm bracelet, with the tiny typewriter, almost burning her flesh as she caught at it after the dance finished. Already it was very precious to her, and she caressed it gently. She must do as Benjamin suggested and have a gay happy time. Moping against fate never did anyone any good.
Nigel caught her hand and introduced her to several other young men, and Merry found, from then on, that she didn’t lack partners, and was half pleased and half chagrined when Benjamin was pipped at the post once or twice. It would teach him to think of her as a Cinderella! When he finally did claim her they danced together silently, as though they were one person, and Benjamin thanked her gravely at the end.
Merry merely nodded in reply, wondering if he had felt the wild beating of her heart when he held her close. Vaguely she realised that she had expected that his engagement to Stephanie might be announced at this party, but nothing had been said, and she still wasn’t wearing a ring...
It was after midnight when Nigel took her and Sylvia home in the car. Sylvia was inclined to be sleepy and a trifle giggly. She’d been having cocktails, and had forgotten to count.
“It was lovely, Nigel darling,” she crooned. “Lovely, lovely party! Lots of lovely things, too. Best party ever.”
Nigel grinned as he escorted them into the house.
“I think you’ll have to help this infant to bed, Merry,” he said indulgently “She’s enjoyed herself too much.”
“I’ll see to her,” said Merry crisply, a sudden spark of anger in her eyes as she caught sight of the dining table. She was glad Benjamin wasn’t here to see that Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George had obviously made a good tea. The remains of it were still scattered all over the dining table and the room looked dirty and untidy with papers and magazines. It had been too much to hope that Aunt Elizabeth might clear away and wash up!
After Christmas, Merry again tried to concentrate on her work, though it was difficult with Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George still showing no signs of going home. They had begun to find the old house with its faded comfort very relaxing, and both spent long hours doing as little as possible while Merry tried to keep her home running. Mrs. Cameron was still at her sister’s, getting over her bad dose of ’flu.
Sylvia was enjoying the festive season, accompanying the Kilpatricks and their friends to dances and parties, though Benjamin, too, had opted out as he had just received a batch of manuscripts to read, in order to do book jackets for them.
Two days before Hogmanay, Merry got up feeling headachy and rather shivery, so she dosed herself with aspirin and did her best to get through the day.
She prepared a light and not very appetising meal for Aunt Elizabeth, Uncle George and herself since Sylvia was lunching in Hillington, then sat down on the settee feeling her body aching strangely and her mind working feverishly and very clearly. Aunt Elizabeth was grumbling because the cheese had gone dry.
“I don’t mind such a light meal, Merry,” she was saying, “so long as it is nourishing, and I do think that a nice piece of steak or a chop is r
ather more nourishing than sliced Spam, even with potatoes and vegetables. One can always, of course, have a little more cheese and biscuits with the coffee, but the cheese was decidedly dry. Don’t you agree, George?”
“Indeed I do, my dear.”
“I consider that the fault lies with the local shops,” she continued. “I’m not sure that the food they sell is fresh. I should insist on fresh food only, Merry, when you shop. Remember that, my dear.”
Merry stared at her, seeing her a slightly grotesque caricature of herself, then very clearly indeed. Her cheeks flushed, and her flesh began to grow hot to the touch.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to see to that yourself, Aunt Elizabeth,” she said rather thickly, as she stood up unsteadily. “I shall have to go upstairs.” Elizabeth stared at her.
“Merry!” she exclaimed, outraged. “Surely you haven’t been drinking the sherry left over from Christmas? Really, it’s too irresponsible of you!”
Merry shook her head.
“No,” she said, making for the door. “Sorry ... I’m going to bed.”
It was a relief to be in her own room, though the bed felt alternately cool and comfortable, then hot and unbearably lumpy. She felt as though she sometimes floated in the air, then she wanted to reach out for a cooling drink, which wasn’t there.
As it grew dark, Merry suddenly blinked to find Aunt Elizabeth there, asking if she intended to sleep all day. She shook her head, feeling perspiration stream behind her neck, then Elizabeth laid icy fingers on her forehead.
“How appalling!” she cried, almost accusingly. “You’ve got ’flu. You’ve been visiting that old woman, and have brought her germs here. I told you what would happen if you were careless!”
“Can I have a drink, please?” croaked Merry, and felt that the glass of water Aunt Elizabeth brought tasted like nectar.
Figures floated round Merry’s head ... Aunt Elizabeth, Uncle George and Sylvia looking a bit scared. Then Nigel was there, and Merry tried to smile at him as he bent over her, floated to the ceiling, then bent over her again.