Happy With Either

by Ruth Clemence

  With the soup, which they sipped out of beakers, Mabel had provided crisp bread rolls and when Harry investigated further he found beef sandwiches, fruit, cheese and biscuits, and at the bottom of the hamper yet another flask, this one containing coffee.

  'Dear old Mabel,' Harry said as he threw the last crumbs through the car window to an attentive robin, 'she really knows the way to a man's heart. Can you cook, dear girl? It's something I've yet to discover.'

  'Plain cooking only,' Bobbie smiled back. She was finding it impossible to be annoyed with Harry for long today no matter how he teased or scoffed at her drawbacks and inhibitions. 'I once tried making pizza and it was a dismal failure, while the less said about my curries the better.'

  'Won't worry me,' remarked her vis-a-vis lightly as he drew a gentle finger down her right cheek. 'People make too much of continental and Asiatic cooking, if you ask me. Some of them behave as if it's an insult to offer guests good old British sirloin. If you can rustle up beef and Yorkshire pudding or roast lamb and mint sauce you'll have a happy man on your hands,' and pinching her ear lobe he laughed and turned the key in the ignition. 'Time we were getting to the theatre,' Harry continued as Bobbie made no remark, 'before they decide we're not coming and sell our tickets.'

  He took her hand again as the lights were lowered in the auditorium and Iago and Roderigo made their entrances to begin the tragic story. And as Bobbie wept for a dying Desdemona a clean white handkerchief was thrust at her and a soft laughing voice murmured in her ear, 'You're enjoying it, I see!' But Bobbie, tears rolling down her cheeks, was too caught up in the drama drawing to its inevitable end on the stage even to cast Harry an indignant glance and as the curtain dropped she gave her eyes a last wipe, handed back the ball of crumpled linen and sighed, 'Wasn't it beautiful? I could watch it all again.'

  Harry laughed outright as he rose and helped her into her coat. 'Not today you couldn't. Those were quite enough tears for one day. Do you always enter so wholeheartedly into the theme of a play? If I'd known I'd have booked for one of the comedies.'

  Bobbie laughed, a little shamefaced. 'Sorry, but I just can't help it. And I enjoyed this far more than a comedy. I'm glad you didn't know I was such an embarrassing companion to take to the theatre.'

  Harry squeezed her arm as they walked up the aisle to the exit doors. 'Doesn't trouble me,' he said briefly, 'in fact I rather like a woman who isn't afraid to show a bit of emotion. A most refreshing change from girls who are either too scared to show their feelings or haven't any to show.'

  It was quite dark when they emerged from the theatre. With one accord they walked slowly along the river, enjoying the crisp, cold air after the stuffiness of the auditorium. Harry had slipped Bobbie's hand into his overcoat pocket and he gave her fingers a gentle pinch as he halted abruptly. He stood in silence for a couple of minutes looking over the water and then turned his head to look down at her. 'This is where it all started—as far as I'm concerned, that is,' he began quietly. 'By the time we got back from that day at Huddington I knew I was your slave for life.'

  Bobbie was so startled, her hand jerked in his, and he nipped her fingers and grinned so mischievously that she thought he must have been teasing. 'Who wants to be made love to on an empty stomach? Not you, my dear girl, that's for sure,' Harry went on, apparently not anticipating a reply to his extravagant admission of a minute ago. 'I've heard of a first-class place about an hour's drive from here. If they've a table are you game to try it?'

  Only too glad of a change of subject, Bobbie nodded and after a short telephone call from the nearest kiosk Harry returned to announce that if they arrived by six-thirty they could have a meal. 'Not too early for you, I hope,' he said as they went in search of the car. 'Satisfying though Mabel's lunch turned out I must say I feel hungry again now. All that drama has given me an appetite.'

  Harry was correct in describing the place he had been recommended as first-class. When they were shown into the panelled dining room nearly every table was occupied. Bobbie, who had shed her coat outside and taken the opportunity of having a quick wash, was glad she had worn the vivid skirt and plain fine woollen top. She did not look out of place and could hold her own with some of the elegant clothes being worn by the women who were here tonight.

  As she approached the secluded table for two and Harry rose, Bobbie noticed that everywhere exquisitely arranged flowers were set in wall vases and in tiny posy bowls on the tables. The glassware sparkled and the cutlery shone against the stark whiteness of starched linen tablecloths.

  As soon as she was seated Harry handed her a glass of sherry and lifted his own in a silent toast, and once again Bobbie's colour rose at the expression in his dark eyes. In the shaded wall light over their heads his eyes looked more black than grey, and the hint of mischievous ardour in their depths made Bobbie's pulses race. 'I've taken the liberty of ordering for you,' Harry remarked prosaically as his eyes continued to rove over her face, then, without changing tone, he went on, 'I must say you're looking as pretty as a picture. If that waiter doesn't come in two ticks with our first course I shall be forced to get up and kiss you!'

  As if the words had conjured him up, at that precise moment the waiter arrived to serve the venison pate flanked by crisp lettuce hearts. As he picked up his knife and fork Harry murmured irrepressibly, 'Saved by the bell,' and though by this time her face was the colour of a peony Bobbie gurgled into laughter.

  Those few moments of clowning set the seal on the meal. Through the second course of grilled trout, followed by slivers of lean veal cooked to Bobbie's delight at the table over a spirit lamp and served with wine sauce, asparagus tips, broccoli and creamed potatoes, Harry continued to keep the conversation amusing and lighthearted. It was not until coffee and liqueur brandy had been served to them in a softly lighted corner of the comfortable lounge that he lapsed into silence, sitting back comfortably beside Bobbie on the chintz-covered two seater settee, contentedly smoking a slim cigar.

  There was no need for words, Bobbie decided as she thoughtfully poured out a second cup of the fragrant, piping hot coffee, and picking up the cup and saucer slid back so that her shoulder touched Harry's. Once again her heartbeat quickened and she was almost on the point of telling him she agreed to his proposal when Harry suddenly looked at his watch, sighed deeply and sat erect.

  He glanced over his shoulder. 'Time we were on the road again, I'm afraid. Wait here, I'll fetch your coat,' and he got up and strolled away.

  But the magic had not yet ended. As they left the restaurant and walked towards the car, blinded for the moment by the intense darkness, Harry took Bobbie by the arm. It was all that was required to spark off the intensity of feeling which had been building between them all day. Simultaneously they turned to one another and a second later Harry's arms were tightly round her as Bobbie on tiptoe strained herself nearer, her hands gripping the lapels of his coat. They kissed and kissed again, and when at last Harry slowly and half reluctantly let her go, Bobbie was glad it was too dark for him to see her face.

  It was after midnight when they crept quietly into the house. Bobbie looked up and her lips parted, but Harry forestalled her. 'Not tonight, my dear girl,' he said quietly, and stroked the hair back off her face. 'Don't say anything you might regret. tomorrow is another day. We'll talk then.'

  There was nothing for it but to say, 'All right, Harry, but at least let me thank you for a lovely day,' as smiling, Bobbie started up the stairs, fully aware that he watched until a bend in the staircase hid her from sight.

  But had she not already been willing to accept Harry Redmayne's proposal of marriage an incident occurred next day which settled her decision for her.

  There had been no opportunity for her and Harry to talk the following morning because an urgent telephone message had sent him hurrying off to catch the mid-morning London train.

  When seven o'clock arrived Bobbie discovered there was a dinner party planned to which she was invited— more, she imagined, to make the nu
mbers even than because she was really welcome. Aunt Jo, it transpired, was in London entertaining some business associates of her husband's and the twins had seized the opportunity to arrange a get-together for their own friends.

  Harry had not yet returned, but several people whom Bobbie had already met were there, including Liz Willoughby and a pretty Swedish girl who worked in the London office of Sorensen 8c Son. It was when she was returning from the kitchen with a fresh supply of ice that Bobbie overheard the whispered consultation between Sean and Nils. They must have been standing just inside the door of the darkened library where they thought they could not be overheard. Bobbie, coming down the corridor from the kitchen, her footsteps completely deadened by the thick pile of the fitted carpet, was almost up to the library door before she heard the voices and instinctively stopped dead.

  She never knew which of the twins spoke first. Their voices were so alike and as the gist of their conversation penetrated she had to concentrate all her attention on holding on to the vacuum ice bowl which she held between her trembling fingers.

  'She's getting herself thoroughly worked up,' were the first words she overheard. 'You'll have to bring in our good old standby Bobbie again. But I don't think putting your arm round her and pretending to be smitten will work this time, old boy. You'll have to confide that you're secretly engaged.'

  'But suppose Bobbie herself gets to hear of it?'

  'Oh, hardly likely, and if she does—what of it ? She's been walking round here after one or the other of us, like a little dog with her tongue hanging out, ever since she came to work for Harry. You don't have to worry about her. You know perfectly well it doesn't matter which of us lifts his little finger, she'll come arunning.'

  Bobbie, who had gone very cold, suddenly began to feel overwhelmingly hot, the blush starting, she felt sure, from her very toes. Even had it been true, it was a cruel little speech. She knew, however, that it sprang from the twins' overwhelming egotism. Even had she lacked good sense neither Aunt Jo, nor Harry himself for that matter, would have permitted her to make an obvious fool of herself. She would spike their guns, Bobbie thought, smiling grimly, and pulling herself together resolutely she walked quietly along to the drawing room, put down the ice and went straight up to her bedroom.

  Now it was going to look extremely odd if Nils or Sean told some besotted female downstairs that he was engaged to a girl who was suddenly conspicuous by her absence. Loving fiancées did not usually disappear in the middle of an evening's entertainment. It would take a bit of explaining, on the part of those ingenious young men, Bobbie thought, and grinned ironically to herself as she got ready for bed.

  She slept better than she had expected and got up in the morning fully determined to ask Harry if he had really meant the unexpected and surprising proposal he had made to her. She was not a vindictive girl by nature, but the sooner Sean and Nils realised that she was not running round awaiting their favours, the better.

  Of course, married to Harry she would not be able to cut herself off from all contact with them, but she was determined that in future she was going to keep them most decidedly at arms' length. They were never going to use her again for their little games. Quite apart from it being distasteful to her, it was even more unfair to the other girls whom they involved in their intrigues.

  But it was after ten o'clock the next morning before the opportunity of a private conversation with Harry came her way. He was not present at the breakfast table when she came down at eight o'clock, and when she went into the office he was telephoning. He merely gestured to a tape on the end of his desk and smiled a 'good morning'. Taking her cue, Bobbie smiled back and picking up the tape went into her room.

  Half an hour later he sauntered in and began to read through the pile of completed notes at her elbow. She stopped typing and glanced at him thoughtfully. His hair was just the right length, she decided, and she was glad it had a slight curl to it. His ears were neat and fitted closely against his head. She liked the set of his eyes, his straight eyebrows and determined mouth. She liked the way he dressed too, she thought, as her eyes travelled over him, but during her appraisal she had forgotten Harry's perspicacity.

  As her eyes came back to his face she saw he was watching her and that his eyes were twinkling in that disconcertingly mocking way he had. 'Wondering whether you could possibly stand the sight of me for fifty years over the toast and marmalade?' he enquired.

  Bobbie could feel the ready flush colouring her face. 'Well, are you, dear girl? Come on now, don't be bashful.'

  'Well'—Bobbie started nervously—'what really worries me,' she continued more confidently, 'is that I feel I wouldn't be contributing very much to our marriage. Are you absolutely certain you meant it?' She got up as she spoke and came round the desk.

  Harry looked her up and down and he took his time about it. There was a decidedly naughty twinkle in his eye. 'Not contributing a fair share, do you mean?' he enquired. 'Oh, I don't know…' and he hesitated meaningfully.

  'Stop it, Harry!' Bobbie commanded, and almost stamped her feet as she saw him immediately assume an air of mock innocence. 'You know I didn't mean that. Can't you be serious for one single moment?'

  'Of course I can. But can't you just let things take their course, dear girl ? Must you always dot the i's and cross the t's?'

  'I'm afraid I must.' Bobbie threw out her hands deprecatingly. It was no good, she saw, trying to make Harry have a serious discussion. For once he was being uncharacteristically obtuse. She gazed into his eyes, but there was no help for her there, he was obviously waiting for her to continue. 'Well, if you really did mean it,' Bobbie went on, 'thank you very much, I should like to marry you.'

  At her words Harry threw back his head and burst out laughing. And then he put down the sheet of paper he was holding and his hands gripped her shoulders. He was still laughing as he kissed her gently on one cheek. 'My dearest love, that is without doubt the most enthusiastic acceptance of a proposal of marriage which has ever been made!' And he kissed her on the other cheek. 'Come on, let's chuck work for the day and go out and celebrate. I'm not likely to get married twice in my lifetime, so I'm going to make the most of it,' and taking her by the hand he led her unprotestingly out of the room.

  But he stopped when they got to the entrance of his own room and glanced down at her. 'I was going to rush you straight up to town and buy a ring, but I suppose we'd better tell the parents first,' he said. 'Come on, let's go and look for Mother. We might as well get it over now as later.'

  They discovered Mrs. Sorensen upstairs checking the laundry with Mabel, and when she saw Harry coming along the bedroom corridor towards her holding Bobbie by the hand, she stopped what she was doing and looked at them over the top of her reading glasses. 'We've come for your blessing, Mother,' Harry said immediately he was within earshot. 'She's just made me the happiest man in Hertfordshire.'

  If Bobbie had been in any doubt about the wisdom of accepting Harry there was certainly no doubt about his mother's pleasure at the news of the engagement. She was immediately enveloped in a warm hug, first by Mrs. Sorensen and then by Mabel, who was clucking like an agitated hen in the background. 'I told you I've seen it coming. I told you over a month ago,' she kept saying, while Harry laughed uproariously.

  'We're just going down to tell Bobbie's parents the glad tidings, then we're going off to London to get the ring,' he announced, 'so excuse us if we rush off,' and only giving Bobbie time to fetch a coat, he hustled her into the car and drove her down to her parents' cottage.

  Mr. Bentham was gardening despite the bleakness of the day, so to Bobbie's relief it was left to Harry to walk down the garden path to break the news and ask his approval. When she had told her mother that she and Harry were engaged there was a second's silence while Mrs. Bentham looked her daughter over anxiously.

  'Are you sure, darling!' she asked at length. 'Of course Daddy and I would be absolutely delighted, but I never thought you and Harry were…'

 
'Don't say any more,' Bobbie entreated her. 'Just take it as it is, Mummy, please. Harry and I have been thrown into each other's company lately and it just so happens we've discovered we're well suited.'

  There was another moment of anxious silence while Mrs. Bentham digested this, and then she hugged Bobbie, saying softly, 'So long as you're sure. I've only got your happiness at heart, but I always thought perhaps one day…'

  'Yes, I know what you thought, but there was never any future in it.'

  With tacit understanding Mrs. Bentham said no more and a second or two later the kitchen door opened and Mr. Bentham and Harry came in. If Mr. Bentham shared his wife's anxieties about the suddenness of Bobbie's engagement he made no comment, only saying gruffly as he kissed her, 'We shall be sorry to lose you, but Harry assures me that he'll only beat you every third Friday, so I've given my consent,' and Bobbie laughed half tearfully as she caught Harry grinning at her over her father's shoulder.

  They stayed to have coffee and then set out for London. There was silence for the first few miles. For her own part Bobbie had a lot to think over, and Harry seemed quite content to sit in companionable silence while he wrestled with one traffic jam after another. It was not until he was turning the car into an underground car-park, saying as he did so, 'We may as well leave the car in Sven's garage as park it in some inaccessible spot in the West End,' that she came out of her fit of abstraction and smiled at him as he came round to open the door and help her out.

  They waited a few minutes before a taxi came cruising past and they were able to get in and drive to Regent Street. Once inside the jeweller's shop Harry almost lost his temper when he discovered that his own ideas on engagement rings differed from Bobbie's. When she waved away all the expensive diamond solitaires and insisted on seeing something more modest he got quite angry. But in the end she managed to soothe him down and they settled on a pretty antique ring in a Victorian setting.