Happy With Either

by Ruth Clemence

  As they left the shop after Harry had settled the bill he looked down into Bobbie's face and said, 'I've let you win this round. Don't think you're always going to be able to dictate to me exactly what sort of presents I choose to give you. If I feel like giving you diamonds, rubies, emeralds or anything else, you've got to learn to take them with a good grace, my girl.'

  Bobbie smiled up at him. 'That's no way for a newly engaged fiancé to behave,' she said, mock accusingly. 'Are we going to quarrel on our very first day of being engaged, Harry?' There was silence for a moment while Harry gazed down in his turn into her upturned face. And then he bent and kissed her swiftly on the mouth.

  It was done so quickly that it was over before Bobbie could feel embarrassment. 'No, we're not,' Harry said decidedly. 'Now the important business of the day has been done, let's enjoy ourselves. Lunch first, then we can discuss what we'd like to do for the rest of the afternoon.'

  'Sounds lovely,' Bobbie replied, and to show she meant it she tucked her fingers into his hand and smiled as she felt it tighten round them.

  She looked around with interest when the taxi stopped near Covent Garden, wondering where Harry had brought her. As she entered the restaurant, housed in what seemed to be a very early Victorian building, Bobbie glanced up into his face.

  'Ever eaten in a house for fallen women before?' Harry murmured, and grinned as Bobbie let out an astonished gasp. 'You'd hardly believe it,' he went on, 'but this really was a mission once upon a time. Now it has on its premises one of the best chefs in London— in my humble opinion, that is.'

  By the time they were half-way through their meal, Bobbie decided she was inclined to agree. They started with soup, thick and spicy, like no other soup Bobbie had ever tasted. This was followed by grilled chops and kidneys accompanied by the most perfectly cooked vegetables, served in tiny individual dishes.

  As the loaded dessert trolley was pushed to the table, Bobbie looked at Harry and sighed. 'Isn't it disgusting? I'm not usually much of a lunchtime eater, but I can't resist one of those delicious-looking rum babas. Good thing we didn't arrange to go to a theatre this evening,' she went on as the waiter put the confection down in front of her. 'You'd never have been able to get me into my seat.'

  Harry grinned as he watched her pick up her fork. 'I could always have borrowed a shoe horn,' he suggested, and laughed outright as Bobbie's ready chuckle bubbled out at his ridiculous reply.

  After lunch, craving fresh air they went to Kew and spent a relaxed and companionable two hours strolling round the gardens and admiring the exotic plants. When they eventually returned to London to pick up the car, as Harry had a key to his stepfather's flat they went up to make a cup of tea before starting the journey back to Charlton Heath.

  The flat was unoccupied and Harry led the way to the spotless kitchen. Ten minutes later as they sat at ease drinking the hot tea and eating chocolate biscuits he looked thoughtfully across at Bobbie. 'Are you sure you want to make tracks for home? You wouldn't rather stay in town? We have got a lot to discuss, however,' he went on before she could reply, 'and not a great deal of time to do it in. I've no intention of having a long engagement, so don't think I'm prepared to wait twelve months or so. No, if it can be arranged I'd like to get married around Christmas.'

  'But that's only a few weeks away,' Bobbie protested, thrown momentarily off balance by this forceful attack. 'What of it? I don't want a white wedding with all the trimmings and I hope you don't either. Ten minutes in the village church with old Canon Buxton should tie us up securely enough. What do you say to a Boxing Day wedding?'

  Bobbie sat looking bewildered, her teacup half-way to her mouth and saying nothing. Then she asked in a small voice, 'What about a house? We've nowhere to live.'

  'Nowhere to live! What's wrong with the house we're living in at present? It's been in my father's family for years, I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. My grandparents turned it over to my parents when they retired and went off to Bermuda, and I daresay Mother and Sven will suggest moving out when I tell them we're getting married. That's up to them. It may take some time to find a place to suit them, but in any case there's a guest suite at the opposite end of the corridor from Sven and Mother's rooms,' Harry went on. 'We could have that. It's quite self-contained and you can have it redecorated if you like.'

  Bobbie was silent. When she had accepted Harry's proposal she had not given a thought to where they would live after they were married. Now the thought of having to share the big Sorensen house, even if only temporarily not only with Aunt Jo and Sven Sorensen but also with the twins whenever they took it into their heads to come home for the night, rather filled her with apprehension.

  As if he sensed exactly where her thoughts were wandering Harry looked across at her and said, 'There's no need to get agitated. As I said, those rooms are absolutely self-contained and if you don't want to see a great deal of the rest of the family there's no need for you to do so. I know it sounds a bit of an imposition, but I would like you to continue to work with me until this book at any rate is finished. When it comes to doing the next one we'll have to see about getting another secretary, of course.'

  'Oh, don't be silly!' Bobbie's voice was indignant. 'You don't think I mind doing your typing for you. I couldn't sit idle all day. If we're going to live in your house there'd be nothing much for me to do. Your mother and Mabel run it like clockwork.'

  'Yes, I know,' Harry admitted, and rubbed his fingers through his hair so that it stood up in all directions, and then he laughed and getting up came across and pulled her to her feet. 'It will work out all right, my dear girl, you'll see,' and bending down he kissed her gently and tenderly on the lips.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When they got back to Charlton Heath the big house was in darkness. There was a note on the hall table in Joanna Sorensen's handwriting. 'Sven and the twins are as delighted as I. Have arranged engagement party for tomorrow night. Love. Mother.'

  Harry groaned as they read the note together. 'I suppose we ought to have warned her not to do any thing like this,' he said, 'but she gets carried away by her enthusiasm. I wonder how many people she's invited. The whole neighbourhood, if I know anything about her.'

  'Never mind,' Bobbie consoled him, 'it's as good a way of publicising the engagement as any. After all, I'm sure everyone will consider it a nine days' wonder,' and she gazed mischievously up into his eyes. 'All these years, Harry, people have been watching you dash around with a succession of beautiful girls. It'll quite shake everyone to discover that you've finally settled for me. They'll be shaking their heads in sorrow from one end of the county to the other.'

  To her surprise Harry did not smile in return. 'If you have one real fault, Roberta,' he said in quite a severe tone of voice, 'it's that you're always belittling yourself. Just take a look at yourself and tell me one good reason why people should raise their eyebrows in surprise,' and seizing her by the shoulders he swung her round quite savagely so that she faced the long wall mirror.

  But instead of looking at her own reflection Bobbie's eyes sought his. After a moment Harry swung her back into his arms. 'Stop looking like that, for good-ness' sake, my dear girl,' he begged her as he buried his face in her abundant hair. 'I've seen that look in your eyes when one of the twins has been particularly obnoxious to you, so don't use it on me,' and he began to kiss her.

  For a second Bobbie was quite taken aback. This was not the usual lighthearted Harry—and then almost without thought she began to respond to the passion in his hold and as their lips met in a long kiss, she wound her arms round his neck and leaned against his shoulder.

  Above the pounding of her heart and the singing in her ears as the kiss lengthened she remembered thinking how nicely he made love, before he abruptly threw his arms wide, said 'Champagne?' and then at her astonished look went on, 'I'm sure there's some in the cellar. Come on, let's find a bottle.'

  There were several, as they quickly discovered, and triumphantly Harry carried on
e back to the kitchen where they foraged for cold meat and salad and sat at the kitchen table eating their meal and sipping the champagne.

  Harry toasted her across the table as he outlined more definite plans. It surprised Bobbie once again to discover how determined he seemed to get everything settled quickly. 'We'll go down tomorrow morning and see the vicar and ask him if Boxing Day suits him,' Harry said as they cleared away their dishes and put the coffee on. 'Come on, we'll go into the other room while this perks and see if we can find a glass of brandy.'

  'Not for me,' Bobbie said immediately. 'Just coffee, please.'

  'Not even another glass of champagne?' Harry suggested, and laughed as she put her hands up to her hot cheeks.

  'I really think I've had enough,' Bobbie answered as he put his arms round her and gave her a quick hug.

  The next day was one long rush of bewilderment to Bobbie as she found herself carried along on the tide of Harry's enthusiasm. As soon as breakfast was over they rang up the vicar, made an appointment and went down to see him to talk over when the banns were to be called. Next they visited Bobbie's parents, and discussed more detailed wedding arrangements with her mother and father, and in the evening came the engagement party which proved even more of an ordeal than Bobbie had anticipated.

  She was glad she had seized the opportunity when down at her parents' cottage to collect her one and only respectable evening gown. She entered the long drawing-room that evening to rather ironic choruses of 'Here comes the Bride' from Nils and Sean, and knew from the look in their eyes that the trouble she had taken over her appearance had not been wasted. As Harry came across, took her hand and kissed it the twins cheered.

  At least she knew she was looking her best. Her dress was in a filmy chiffon, coral, amber, brown and honey-coloured flowers strewn over a parchment background. It had billowing sleeves, a ruched collar which stood up to frame her face, and a sash of the same material swathed her waist and made her look slimmer and smaller than she actually was. She had tied her hair so that it fell over one shoulder with a ribbon to match the coral flowers on her dress, and it did not need Harry's whispered, 'You look sweet enough to eat, my dear girl,' to make her smile and lose her self-consciousness.

  As if he had sensed her previous nervous dread Harry's hold on her hand tightened, and he pulled it into the crook of his arm as he led her forward to introduce her to those of his friends whom she had not already met. If this was any instance of what was before her, Bobbie thought later as they sat down to dinner, she was glad that Harry was insisting on a quiet wedding. It took all her courage to sit there smiling as everyone at the long table raised their glasses to drink her health, and some of the more laboured jokes about marriage she found difficult to swallow.

  Although Harry appeared undisturbed by the quality of the humour he murmured in her ear, 'There's something to be said for the old Stone Age habit of just hitting the womenfolk over the head and dragging them into a cave,' and when the corner of her mouth turned up in appreciation he said, 'Talk about being butchered to make a Roman holiday! Still, they'll all go home in an hour, so keep your chin up, my dear girl, it's not going to last for ever,' and he tweaked her ear gently as he walked away to bend over his mother and ask her something.

  Bobbie did not hear his words, but she saw Mrs. Sorensen look up, smile and nod, and a few minutes later Mabel came in with a fresh supply of coffee and liqueurs. After these had been drunk it seemed to be a general signal for people to begin leaving. On saying goodbye to the last guest Bobbie turned to where her mother and father were standing and let out an audible sigh of relief. 'I'm glad I don't get engaged every day,' she said as she walked up to her parents. 'It's a great strain on the nerves.'

  Mr. Bentham looked down and smiled. 'Never mind,' he said consolingly, 'the wedding will be more to your liking, just ourselves and Harry's family, and your Aunt Nella. We don't need to ask anybody else, so you and Harry can slip away as incognito as you like.'

  Bobbie wrinkled her nose. 'Now come on, Dad, you're talking as if we were Royalty!'

  'The way you're seeking privacy, my girl, anyone would think you were.'

  'She can't help being shy and retiring,' Harry put in as he sauntered up and overheard the tail end of the conversation. 'It's one of the things I most like about her, so don't decry it, sir, will you?'

  Mr. Bentham looked up at the tall young man facing him. 'Both seekers after exclusiveness, eh?' he enquired, and Harry smiled down at him in perfect accord as he nodded.

  Looking back long afterwards Bobbie often wondered how she managed to fit so much into the following weeks. As well as getting through their usual amount of daily work on his books, she and Harry seemed to have so many extra things to see to.

  For her own part she had to get something to wear for the ceremony itself. Quiet the wedding was to be, but she did not want to walk up the aisle looking as if she were going out on some mundane everyday expedition. White silk and veiling were out of the question, but surely she could find something in between— not too flimsy since the weather was so cold but rather special just the same.

  Then there were the rooms she and Harry were to use. As he had prophesied Mrs. Sorensen immediately suggested that the suite on the south-west side of the house might suit them and Bobbie had been pleasantly surprised at its size, since it consisted of a large bedroom and sitting-room as well as a bathroom and well-equipped dressing-room. Its decorations did not strike so happy a note, being uniformly leaf green, mushroom and cream without one dominant colour to bring it to life.

  Harry with his usual insight took one look at Bobbie's thoughtful face and laughed outright. 'We'll get the decorators in right away. I know Pearson well—he did my room downstairs. Don't worry about Mother's feelings and don't worry that it won't be finished before we return. Just let me know what you'd like and I'll fix it. No pink, though, there's a good girl.'

  Bobbie laughed and agreed. Dear Harry! He seemed to understand her so well, and she gave him an impulsive hug before disentangling herself hurriedly at the look in his eyes. He let her go without comment, though when they reached the stairs he deliberately took her hand and held it until they reached the entrance to his workroom and he had to release her to hold open the double doors.

  The announcement of their engagement had been received with less surprise than Bobbie had expected, but she had one unpleasant reaction from no less a person than Marie Gibson. When Bobbie telephoned to tell her the news there had been several moments' silence on the other end of the phone until Bobbie anxiously asked, 'Are you still there?'

  'Oh yes, I'm here,' Marie had answered, 'but struck dumb by your ingenuity. You must have been very clever, now I come to think of it.'

  'Clever? I don't think I'm with you, Marie.'

  'Oh yes, you are, ducky,' came the instant reply. 'Not only with me, way ahead of me. When is the wedding to be? Oh yes, Christmas, you said. I take it your connection with the firm ends as of then. Which makes one ask, has true love dawned in the heart of Henry Redmayne or does the idea of a free secretary for life appeal to him?'

  'Really, Marie! There's no call for remarks like that!' Bobbie's upset at Marie's reactions was plain to hear, and as Harry himself walked into the room at that moment he had no difficulty in reading her distress.

  Without a word he gently took the receiver out of her hand and spoke into the mouthpiece. Bobbie, her face buried in a tissue, hardly heard his words, but there was no doubt about his expression as he put the phone down. His eyes were hard and gleamed with anger as he turned, but Bobbie, looking up, saw the anger turn to laughter as he said, 'Forget about it. I'll mail Marie her last cheque plus a handsome bonus this afternoon. You need never see her again.'

  'I don't see why you need send her a bonus!' Bobbie forgot her distress in a spurt of real anger. 'She's done very well out of this arrangement, let me tell you.'

  Harry tickled her cheek with one finger as he prepared to leave and laughed. 'My careful love, trying to
save me the odd sovereign! Leave it to me, I'll sort Marie for you.' Yes, and anyone else who dared to upset her, Bobbie mused. Harry certainly believed in taking care of his womenfolk. Like the real-life heroes of old he wrote about, he brought true chivalry to life.

  Bobbie's cheeks were a bright pink and her eyes shone as she turned to the typewriter again. I'd be no use to Women's Lib., she thought ruefully as she plunged into a positive fury of typing, I enjoy being spoiled and cosseted too much.

  A week later, when she had completed typing parts one and two of his main book, Bobbie went away to spend three days in London, leaving Harry in peace to do his final alterations and corrections. In addition to a wedding dress, she had Christmas presents to buy and she had promised Harry to find time to choose carpeting for their rooms and a double bed, since he objected to the single beds already there on the grounds that 'he did not want to feel the whole of his married life as if his wife was in Siberia!'

  The bulk of the shopping was soon accomplished and the hotel bedroom Bobbie and her mother were sharing had begun to look more like a second-hand store, but Bobbie had still found nothing suitable to wear for her wedding.

  'How many more shops on your list?' Mrs. Bentham asked on their second evening as she thankfully slid her feet out of her shoes and swung her legs up on to the bed. 'And how,' she asked glancing round at the many parcels and boxes, 'are we going to get this lot home to Charlton Heath?'

  Bobbie giggled. 'Hire a pantechnicon,' she suggested mischievously. 'Don't worry, Mother,' she hastened to reassure Mrs. Bentham, 'I need new luggage. I'll buy a couple of lightweight suitcases tomorrow and we'll load everything into them. As to a dress,' she sighed, glancing down at the list in her hand, 'I thought tomorrow we'd try those three shops near Bond Street that Aunt Jo recommended, and if they have nothing, we'll take a taxi to the shop in Sloane Square where Aunt Nella goes. She and Cousin Felicity always look nice when they visit us, and I know she buys most of her clothes there.'