by Gordon, Lucy
She was unaware that her eagerness had brought a glow to her face, and that she was making urgent gestures. Jack regarded her quizzically, and took one of her hands in his.
“You won’t be happy unless you do this, will you?” he asked.
“I can’t just waft around spending money, Jack.”
“Don’t you like spending money?”
“It was lovely at first, but I’ve run out of ideas.” She gave an awkward laugh. “It’s boring.”
He looked at her for a moment, a strange look in his eyes, then unexpectedly raised her hand and brushed it against his cheek. “You’re a remarkable woman,” he said softly.
A sweet warmth began to creep through her. He hadn’t spoken to her in that tone since before their disastrous wedding night. She could hardly believe that she’d made a breakthrough when she was almost in despair.
“Jack...” she said softly.
Before he could reply they were interrupted by the sound of two voices raised in riotous argument outside Jack’s door.
“It’s an art,” Sam was bellowing. “You just need the right touch on the throttle.”
Bertie’s voice followed, mumbling inaudibly until he roared, “To blazes with the damned throttle!”
“If you’d done what I told you instead of arguing all the time,” Sam yelled, “you wouldn’t have fallen off.”
“I forgot,” Jack groaned. “Sam’s been teaching Bertie to ride his motorbike.”
“What?” Kaye jumped up and hurried to the door, moving so fast that she knocked over her bag. Oblivious, she rushed out to where Bertie was sitting down, rubbing his leg and protesting loudly about the iniquity of his companion and all machines.
Grinning, Jack leaned down to pick up the bag and retrieve the objects that had fallen out of it. He began to push them back in, but the smile faded from his face as he found himself holding Paul’s statement.
A debt of two thousand pounds, this month’s payment overdue, and it was in Kaye’s bag. No prizes, he thought, for guessing how that had come about. He remembered the uncertainty flickering across her face when she’d spoken of her brother, as though she were trying to steel herself to ask him a favor. She’d decided against it, but then found a much neater approach.
And it was the cutest tactic that had ever been tried on him. Bored with spending money! She’d looked almost like a saint as she said it, and he’d known a wrench of tenderness in his heart. Boy, had he been fooled!
He almost gave a whistle of admiration. As a shrewd operator himself he respected an even shrewder operator. If only it wasn’t this particular woman who was cheating him. She could have hurt him, if any woman could. Luckily, no woman could.
He heard Kaye returning and quickly slipped the statement into his desk.
“I don’t know which of them is the greater baby!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Jack, please talk to Sam. He’s a bad influence on Bertie.”
“That ain’t so!” Sam hollered. “He’s a bad influence on me. I never got up to mischief before that old jackass came here. Tell her, Jack.”
“That’s right. Sam was a pattern of virtue,” Jack agreed.
“And pigs fly!” Kaye said indignantly. “Come on, Grandpa, I’ll take you to the doctor.”
“I’ve seen a doctor,” Bertie said. “Sam took me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Sam said, “’cept he can’t tell his left from his right.”
“I wash my hands of the pair of you,” Kaye said, exasperated and laughing at the same time.
“Does anybody mind if I have my office back?” Jack asked plaintively. “I’ve got a heavy day, and I’m badly in need of coffee.”
“I’ll make it, and we’ll have it together,” Kaye said eagerly.
“Thanks, but Mary’s making it. Ah, there she is. Now you’ll have to leave us, I’m afraid.”
With a sinking heart Kaye saw that the indifferent look was there again in his eyes. His brief warmth to her might never have happened.
But it had happened. She was sure of it. For one moment the curtain had lifted, only to fall again, leaving her more cruelly isolated than before. She turned quickly away so that her pain might not appear in her face, and left the room.
“I wonder if Dad will be home yet,” Georgy said as they drove home after an evening out watching a Disney movie.
“He did mention he had a lot of work to do,” Kaye said vaguely. “Did you say something, Sam?” The old man had snorted behind her.
“Not a thing,” he said.
Bertie wasn’t with them. He’d declared loftily that the entertainment wasn’t sufficiently intellectual, which Kaye had translated for the other two as meaning that he’d seen it eight times already.
They arrived to find an unfamiliar van in the drive, with Hoskins Plumbers written on the side.
“Had a spot of bother with the pipes,” Bertie explained when they went in.
“Can’t go out and leave you, without there’s trouble,” Sam informed him.
“If you will live in a house that’s falling to pieces,” Bertie riposted.
“It wasn’t falling to pieces before you arrived.”
Neither Kaye nor Georgy were alarmed by this conversation, which was par for the course with those two. Bertie and Sam abused each other constantly, black-guarded each other mercilessly and loved each other dearly.
The plumber was just descending the stairs, declaring that all was now well. He announced that his bill would be along soon, and bid them a cheery good-night
“I’ll be down to make some tea in a moment,” Kaye called, mounting the stairs.
In her room she tossed her jacket onto the bed and was heading for her little bathroom when the door opened and Jack walked out, naked. The next moment she’d collided with him.
She had a close-up view of the alarm that sprang into his eyes. He grabbed her to steady himself and she had a brief, giddy sensation of being held against his bare chest. She put up her hands to his arms and let them fall again at once. After weeks with no contact this sudden collision left her senses reeling. Jack’s body was slightly damp from a shower. Kaye was shocked by the intensity of her own reaction. She wanted to embrace him and back away from him at the same time. He mustn’t suspect how he affected her, but the blood was throbbing through her veins.
“I’m sorry,” he said sharply. “My shower wasn’t working, so I used yours. I didn’t think you’d be home yet.”
“It’s all right. You don’t need to apologize. Jack—”
He backed into the bathroom without waiting for her to finish, emerging a moment later with a towel wrapped around his loins. That told Kaye all she needed to know. He didn’t want her to see him naked. He just didn’t want her. That was it.
Without anything being said it had simply become accepted that Bertie was there to stay. Sam had always regretted losing touch with his old partner in crime, and now that they were, as he put it, “six years older and six years sillier,” he had no intention of letting it happen again. Bertie moved his things lock, stock and barrel into Sam’s part of the house, and the two embarked cheerfully on their second childhoods, although, as Bertie waggishly observed, it was a moot point whether Sam had ever left his first.
Under Sam’s erratic tutelage Bertie learned to play golf, including driving a buggy, to the danger of everyone on the course. They passed many a happy day in this way, winding up with riotous evenings out. Twice they were returned home, pie-eyed, by the resigned and exasperated police.
Kaye was glad to have Bertie there, both for his sake and her own. But she could have done without her grandfather’s sharp eyes, which saw beneath the smiling mask she put on for the world.
“Of course I’m happy,” she said when he first asked. “I’ve gotten everything I could possibly want.”
“Have you, darling?” Bertie asked gently. “That’s all right, then.”
Sam, in his turn, asked his son what ailed him, and received muc
h the same reply.
“Say what you like,” Sam retorted stubbornly, “but there’s something wrong between you two. I don’t know what more you want. You’ve got a beautiful wife who’s nuts about you—”
“Sam...” Jack began in a warning voice.
“Married little more than a month and you’re not even sharing a room.”
“I’ve spent most of that time on the injured list,” Jack reminded him.
“Excuses. You don’t act like a married couple.”
“Sam,” Jack said through gritted teeth, “you’re my father. I love and respect you, and I’d do anything for you, but—”
“That I should live to hear a son of mine talk like that!” Sam exclaimed, incensed.
“What?”
“I raised you to speak out, not pussyfoot around words like you was afraid of them. If you’re trying to tell me to mind my own damned business, at least have the guts to say it plain.”
“Mind your own damned business!”
“That’s better!”
When the two old men compared notes, there was no comfort for either of them.
“She won’t tell me a thing.” Bertie sighed. “First time that’s ever happened.”
“Same here,” Sam said heavily. “He actually told me to mind my own damned business. My son said that!”
He gave a melancholy sigh.
“Kaye, I’m out of money, and there’s a collection today,” Georgy said as they arrived at school one morning.
“You should have plenty of your allowance left.”
“I know I should have, but I haven’t. Just a little. Please, Stepmother.”
“You can cut out that stepmother routine,” Kaye said. “All right, just a little.” She rooted around in her bag, found her purse and gave Georgy some money. The girl thanked her and dashed out of the car.
Kaye looked into the bag to find an unfamiliar paper that her fingers had discovered. As she drew it out her eyes widened in horror.
It was Paul’s credit card statement On it was written the words “Paid in full,” followed by the date, in Jack’s handwriting.
Kaye sat staring, feeling her heart beat strongly with something that felt almost like fear. Jack had paid Paul’s debt. But how?
She snatched up the car phone. When Paul came on the line she wasted no time on preliminaries. “Did you send that statement to Jack?” she demanded furiously.
“Hold on—?”
“That credit card statement I wouldn’t pay for you. Did you dare send it to him?”
“Of course not. I left it in your bag. I reckoned when you found it and had time to think—”
“I’ve only just found it, and it’s been paid by Jack. I knew nothing about it. Paul, how could you do this to me?”
“Hey, what’s all the fuss about? He’ll never miss it.”
“That’s not the point,” she said frantically.
“Okay, okay, I’ll pay it back.”
“Using what?”
“The money I’m going to be earning. I’ve gotten a job.”
“Really?”
“It’s true, I swear it.”
“I’m glad. What sort of a job?”
“Selling. The basic pay isn’t much, but I’ve got a company car, and I’ll get commission.”
Despite her anger, she was pleased. Paul’s looks and personality would be a help to him as a salesman. He might yet manage to get his life straight.
“How did it happen?”
“I got a phone call from a man called Lionel North, who runs a clothing firm. It seems he’d heard of me from a friend of a friend.”
“But what had he heard?”
“Nothing bad, so don’t sound like that. Someone had told him I had potential and he said why didn’t I drop in for a chat? I did and we got on fine. I start straightaway. Now then, admit you didn’t think I had it in me to be a success.”
She was too relieved to point out that he hadn’t actually achieved success yet. The future might yet be bright.
“I’ll pay Jack what I owe him, sis. Honest.”
“Just see that you do.”
But when she hung up, she felt very little better. This was still a disaster. She remembered now, that day in Jack’s office, how she’d knocked her bag onto the floor as she rushed out to see Bertie’s injuries. Jack had picked it up. He must have found the statement then, taken it and paid it without a word.
Because he thought that was what she wanted from him.
She said it over again to herself, trying to comprehend the monstrous discovery. Jack thought she was using him to fund Paul’s extravagances. And he regarded it as so much a matter of course that he’d paid the debt without even mentioning it to her.
It was practically an insult.
Chapter Seven
Kaye’s anger carried her through the rest of the day, working at the nursery, collecting Georgy and returning home with her. She planned to spend the evening alone. She didn’t even want to speak to Jack until she’d sorted out her feelings.
But she couldn’t escape entirely. Bertie had a bad case of the snuffles, and she was concerned for him. He resisted all her attempts to send him to bed, and there was a wicked glint in his eyes.
She discovered why when a taxi drew up outside the house at about seven o’clock. “Who is that for?” she asked, frowning.
“Me,” Sam said, appearing in the hall, Bertie beside him. “We’re going out on the town.”
“Grandpa, you shouldn’t be going out with your cold,” Kaye protested.
“Best thing for a cold is a slug of whiskey,” Sam pronounced. “I’m taking my pal out for medicinal purposes.”
“But why the taxi?”
“Because we’re going to get very drunk,” Sam said with offended dignity. “You’re not suggesting that I should drive?”
“Henry can take you,” Jack suggested.
“And hover around me like a mother hen? No, thanks. We’re going to enjoy ourselves.”
“At least tell me where you’re going,” Kaye pleaded.
“To the Rose and Crown. They’ve got a new, pretty barmaid. C’mon Bertie.”
They swept out, leaving Jack shaking his head and grinning ruefully. “I hope I’ve got his spirit when I’m that age,” he said.
Kaye had already begun to walk away. “Have a drink with me?” Jack called after her.
“No, thank you, I’m busy,” she said coolly.
“Doing what?”
“I’m helping out with some paperwork at the day care center.”
“Is everything going all right there?”
“Splendidly, thank you.”
“Kaye, have I done something to offend you?”
“Not a thing.”
“I only ask because you don’t usually snub me.”
“That’s nonsense, Jack. How could I snub you when I have every reason to be grateful to you? You’re being fanciful.”
“I’m not a fanciful man.” He strolled over to where she’d paused at the foot of the stairs. “Too little imagination is my besetting sin, not too much. Why are you angry with me?”
He towered over her, and the impact of his close presence almost weakened her resolve to say nothing. He was her Jack who could charm her with a word or a smile, and she loved him even while she was furious with him. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She was no match for him. He would simply shrug and imply that she was making a fuss about nothing, and she would feel more ashamed and troubled than ever.
“I’ve told you I’m not angry,” she said with a smile that, had she known it, was as defensive as his own. “Now I must get on with my work.”
She went upstairs, leaving him looking after her, puzzled.
About ten o’clock Kaye went downstairs to make herself some tea. She took some to Jack in the study. He was stretched out on the sofa, reading a financial report. He glanced up and gave her a smile that contained a question. Her coolness earlier in the evening had left him conf
used.
“Thanks,” he said. “Going to bed?”
“Not yet. I’m going out to collect Grandpa from the Rose and Crown.”
He raised an eyebrow, giving his face the mischievous look that made her heart turn over. “You think Sam can’t take care of him?”
“Of course he can’t. Sam’s just as bad.”
“True. I’ll come with you.”
“There’s no need. I can manage.”
“I said I’ll come with you,” he repeated firmly. “My car or yours?”
“Mine. I want to drive.”
As they drove he observed that they should get there at about “chucking-out time.” But they missed the ejection of Sam and Bertie by a couple of hours.
“I’m used to throwing out youngsters,” observed the affronted landlord, “but at that age you expect them to behave themselves. Rosie was most upset.”
“Don’t you believe it,” the pretty barmaid said. “They were real gentlemen, and it’s always nice to be paid compliments.”
“But where did they go?” Kaye asked worriedly.
“The Anchor, I think.”
“It’s just down the road,” Jack said. “We’ll pick them up there.”
But when they reached The Anchor there was no sign of the two elderly reprobates. After searching the crowded pub for several minutes they approached the bar.
“Oh, them!” the barmaid said immediately. “Yes, I remember them. Knocking it back like they had hollow legs.”
“But where are they?” Kaye said, urgently looking around.
“Oh, they left ages ago. Said they were going around all the pubs in the area.”
“A pub crawl,” Jack groaned. “That’s all we need.”
“They can’t have gone far,” said Kaye, who’d been gathering more details from one of the customers. “By the sound of it they were barely propping each other up.” She turned back to the man. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”