A Pearl for Love

by Mary Cummins

  Janie’s wedding brought genuine happiness to Catherine on behalf of her friend, and the final pang for what she had lost. Though her body felt vividly alive again, and that night she wept hot, silent tears into her pillow, then fell asleep exhausted.

  John was meeting her off the train when she returned, and although she had come down to breakfast with shadowed eyes and slightly swollen lids, she felt composed and at peace with herself.

  ‘Are you happy with the Sheridans, Catherine?’ asked Mrs. Neill, obviously bringing herself to ask the question. Catherine was now better able to understand her rather retiring nature, and to meet it half way.

  ‘Yes, I’m happy,’ she said, after a while. ‘Not completely happy, perhaps, but then there’s always something, isn’t there?’

  ‘And what is there in Newcastle that worries you?’

  ‘I don’t know ... quite,’ said Catherine, slowly stirring her tea. ‘I thought it would be good to come here and look at it all from a distance, but I still don’t know that there’s anything wrong. Yet sometimes it feels as though something is brewing up, if you know what I mean.’

  Mrs. Neill said nothing, but sat down at the table beside Catherine and reached for the coffee pot.

  ‘Mr. Sheridan seemed very keen to have you,’ she said slowly. ‘He arranged all your affairs here very well. We hardly had to do a thing. Are you being given ... well, a lot of responsibility in his business? Too much, perhaps, for a girl like you?’

  ‘No, nothing like that,’ laughed Catherine. ‘They didn’t have to make a job for me, because there’s plenty for us all to do. But I don’t exactly run the show!’

  She thought of Uncle James looking worried now and again, and knew she couldn’t discuss his business with Mrs. Neill.

  ‘What axe his son and daughter Wee?’ Mrs. Neill was asking. ‘Are they happy to have you with them? And do you like them?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Catherine rather slowly again. ‘John is always charming and thoughtful, and Elizabeth sometimes ... sometimes I wonder if she’s completely happy. It’s hard to understand Elizabeth.’

  And Michael Rodgers? Catherine found she could not discuss Michael with the Neills. Instead she smiled brightly.

  ‘Everything is fine, really. I like handling pearls.’

  ‘Even if “Pearls mean tears”?’

  ‘That’s rubbish, I’m sure. The only tears would be if one lost them!’

  She began to tell the older woman some of her experiences at the shop, and soon they were both laughing, while Catherine helped to prepare Sunday lunch, then all three went walking round old haunts, and greeting old neighbours, before she caught her train back to Newcastle.

  It would be nice to see John again, she thought idly, remembering his tall, rather gangling figure and his friendly teasing grin. John had been a good friend and his ex-fiancée, Rosalie Craven, must need her head examined for throwing him over like that.

  And wouldn’t it be nice if Elizabeth would fix a wedding date? Perhaps she might ask her to be bridesmaid. But even as the thought entered her head, more treacherous ones pushed it out. Catherine found she didn’t want to be Elizabeth’s bridesmaid. In fact, she was beginning to feel torn in two. She wanted the other girl to be happy, but against her will, Michael Rodgers was getting in her way. That was the cloud which was now hanging over her in Newcastle, she acknowledged honestly.

  If she had any sense, she would leave the Sheridans now, before the cloud darkened and then drenched all of them.

  But where would she go? A great deal of the nameless fears and insecurity she had felt after the accident, still remained with her, and Catherine didn’t feel brave enough to step out, yet again, into the unknown.

  Nor could she go back to Perth. Mrs. Neill had confided that they were thinking of selling up their comfortable house, and moving to a small bungalow in preparation for retirement days. There would be no room in the bungalow for her, and she could little afford to be independent.

  The future looked as darkened and cloudy as the sky, at the moment, she thought, as she watched the rather pale sun droop behind the skyline of jagged faraway hills.

  At Newcastle she picked up her small case and smoothed down her pretty heather-coloured suit, bought specially for the wedding. She would look for John at the barrier.

  But there was no sign of him as she stared round, then she started as a firm hand clasped her arm.

  ‘Here you are at last! That train was damn late...’

  She whirled round. ‘Michael!’

  He nodded, then reached for her case.

  ‘John couldn’t come. I offered to pick you up instead. Are you ... glad to be back, Catherine?’

  Yes. Yes,’ she repeated, still bewildered. ‘Did Elizabeth come with you?’

  ‘No,’ he answered shortly. ‘Nor did she mind my coming, if that’s your next question. Elizabeth, in fact...’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. Shall we go?’

  Michael propelled her towards his car, and a moment later they were driving through the city, along broad well-lit streets, then suddenly turning off into a quiet cul-de-sac.

  ‘Why are we stopping here?’ she asked, in alarm.

  ‘Why are you always so scared of me?’ he countered. ‘Every time I even look at you, or smile, you shy away like a startled pony. I’m not such an ogre, surely?’

  She said nothing for a moment. She could hardly explain to Michael that he had a strangely deep attraction for her, and she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about him.

  ‘I ... I’m sorry,’ she managed. ‘I didn’t know that I seemed so unfriendly.’

  ‘Well, I shan’t labour the point, my dear,’ he said softly. ‘I just thought you’d welcome a meal before going home, after your train journey. One of the hotels near here serves up a very fine steak.’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t eat all that much!’

  ‘An omelette then, for goodness’ sake. What a difficult girl you can be!’

  She relaxed and laughed a little. ‘Perhaps something in between,’ and he helped her out of the car and locked up, then took her arm again, and she could feel the strength of his fingers gripping her.

  The hotel dining room was warm and relaxing, with old oak beams, willow-patterned plates hung on white walls, and a rich red carpet on the floor.

  ‘There now, don’t you feel hungry?’ asked Michael, showing Catherine the menu.

  She threw off her inhibitions and smiled at him. It was rather exciting to be having this unexpected outing, and she gave herself up to the enjoyment of it.

  ‘It is tempting,’ she agreed, as she chose fruit juice, followed by turbot, then decided that she would tackle the steak after all.

  ‘Have you laid all your ghosts in Perth?’ Michael asked suddenly, and she flushed, rather caught out by the question.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You might have been happy in the life you planned for yourself, but if fate steps in and you can’t have it, there’s often something just as good along a different road.’

  ‘Perhaps that is so.’

  His face darkened, and he leaned towards her.

  ‘Sometimes one is going down the wrong road before one realises it,’ he said to her. ‘Often it’s difficult to turn back, unless there’s a hand waiting to help.’

  She frowned. Was he talking about himself now?

  The waitress came with their order and Michael sat back, glowering a little, and there was an awkward silence between them.

  ‘Were you busy? Yesterday, I mean?’ Catherine asked nervously.

  ‘What? Yesterday? Oh yes. Yes, quite busy. For the moment I’d forgotten you were away.’ He was silent for a while. ‘It can’t last for ever, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Losing business.’

  ‘Are we losing business?’

  Michael nodded.

  ‘James Sheridan doesn’t see where the main weakness lies, because often I can cover up, but I don’t think John is
ever going to learn. He makes mistakes over valuations, then the firm stands the cost of his mistakes. I know one learns by experience, but in this day and age, experience can be too dearly bought.’

  ‘I find it hard to believe ... that John makes such serious mistakes, I mean.’

  He eyed her levelly, then in a moment he was smiling again.

  ‘Maybe there’s no point in telling you this. Maybe I’m just being pessimistic. He’s a straight chap, doing his best. It’s wrong of me to criticise him, especially to you. Forget it. It’s just that ... well, Elizabeth won’t see it either.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve been having differences of opinion lately?’ asked Catherine impulsively, then drew back. ‘Oh, I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Don’t apologise. I suppose you’d have to be as blind as a bat not to notice. It’s one of the reasons why Elizabeth and I are not exactly seeing eye to eye. Only one of the reasons, though. There are others.’

  Again he met her eyes squarely, and she found that her heart was beating more quickly. She didn’t want to know what the other reasons were, she told herself. She wasn’t ready to know, so she said nothing, concentrating on the well-cooked meal.

  ‘I hope you soon resolve it all,’ she said nervously.

  ‘Do you, Catherine?’

  ‘And I would have thought John was very competent.’

  ‘Don’t go taking too much interest in John Sheridan,’ he told her harshly. ‘In any of the Sheridans. They’re people out for their own ends.’

  ‘I can’t imagine how they could ever make use of me for their own ends. I’m neither brilliantly brainy, nor am I well endowed with worldly goods.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ he said, very softly.

  ‘I am ... very sure.’

  ‘Perhaps they’re hoping that you’ll find something marvellous among all your father’s personal papers,’ he said, in a teasing voice, though she sensed an odd sort of purpose behind it.

  ‘I’m through with sorting out most of my stuff now, and I’m sorry to disappoint you. And them. I’ve cleaned out a multitude of old bills, and the only thing of interest was the amount my parents paid for new furniture when they were first married!’

  ‘Do the Sheridans know you’ve finished now?’

  Of course. Uncle James gives me advice when he can.’

  ‘I’ll bet he does!’

  Suddenly Catherine felt herself withdraw a little coolly.

  ‘I wish you’d tell me straight what you’re hinting, Michael. Did you expect my father to have valuable stocks and shares among his papers? Or did you believe the Sheridans guilty of such a thing?’

  ‘If I said I did, you’d only get mad at me. But just see if their attitude towards you changes at all.’

  ‘But they couldn’t have thought such an unlikely thing. Uncle James knew Daddy very well. And believe me, if he had any secret source of wealth, Mother would have known.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose she would,’ Michael agreed, frowning again.

  ‘You get such odd ideas,’ laughed Catherine. Had he overheard some sort of conversation and completely misunderstood it?

  ‘Coffee is being served in the lounge, sir,’ the waitress told Michael, and Catherine glanced at her watch as she rose from the table.

  ‘We won’t have to be too late, Michael,’ she said, rather anxiously.

  ‘Too late? It’s early!’

  ‘I know, but Aunt Lucille will wonder where we are. And Elizabeth.’

  ‘All right, we’ll go when we’ve had coffee, though the Sheridans won’t be missing us. John probably won’t even notice the time.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘You may find out, if you’re early enough.’ Again it was warm and cosy in the lounge, and Michael began to ask Catherine about freshwater pearls, and to admire the beautiful brooch she always wore, and which was now pinned to her suit.

  Animated, she told him all she knew, and he leaned forward, full of interest. The time flew past, and at length she jumped up, startled.

  ‘Michael! We’ve been here for hours.’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate. All right, Cinderella, we’ll go now. Haven’t you enjoyed my company at all?’

  She felt tongue-tied. Part of her had been almost helplessly attracted by his company, like a moth to the light. And part of her was still repelled.

  Would she feel the same way if he were free of Elizabeth? she wondered. But it was difficult to be objective, when Elizabeth was so much part of their lives.

  ‘You’re taking your time about answering.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. Thank you for bringing me,’ she said politely. ‘I enjoyed it all very much.’

  He had again taken her arm as he escorted her back to the car, then as he slid in beside her and shut the door, he turned to look at her and suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her till she struggled.

  ‘That’s not fair!’ she cried. ‘It’s not fair to Elizabeth—or to me.’

  ‘Maybe not, though it’s fair to me. I’ve wanted to do that ever since I set eyes on you, and now I have. You bring out the protective instincts in me. And anyway, Elizabeth and I are in limbo...’

  ‘But I’m not.’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘You aren’t free to talk to me like this.’

  ‘If I were free, Catherine ... would that make any difference?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ she said. ‘I’m tired, Michael. I want to go home.’

  ‘Home!’ he repeated, then laughed a little. ‘All right, I’m sorry. I suppose if you weren’t such a hedgehog, you wouldn’t be you. You’ve got standards and that’s good. I had standards, too, once. I had them knocked out of me, and I’ve acquired some all my own.’

  He laughed lightly, and she relaxed a little.

  ‘I think you pull my leg, Michael.’

  ‘Perhaps I do.’

  They drove the rest of the way in silence, then he pulled up in front of Balgower.

  ‘Here’s your case, my dear. Mind if I don’t come in? I don’t feel like facing the family tonight.’

  ‘Well, of course not. Won’t they expect it, though?’

  ‘Why should I have to do what they expect? See you in the morning, Kate. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she echoed, and went up to the front door, letting herself in with her own key.

  John met her in the hall, and she turned to smile at him, then saw that he was furiously angry.

  ‘Where have you been, Catherine?’ he demanded. ‘Your train got in hours ago. Michael promised to bring you straight home.’

  Elizabeth was bringing up the rear, looking beyond her to the door.

  ‘Where is he?’ she asked.

  ‘He went on home,’ said Catherine uncertainly, looking from one to the other. ‘We ... we had something to eat in town.’

  ‘And it’s taken you all this time!’ cried John. ‘Didn’t it occur to you we might be worried?’

  ‘Surely I’m old enough to look after myself?’ she cried, suddenly angry.

  She wasn’t used to a family inquisition, and something in Elizabeth’s eyes was making her feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Michael said you had friends here,’ she said defensively.

  ‘The Cravens left hours ago,’ said John, ‘and Mother and Father have gone to bed.’

  ‘I should like to go to bed, too,’ said Catherine shakily.

  It had been an upsetting day in many ways. Saying goodbye to the Neills had really felt like goodbye, now that they were selling the house and moving to a small one. Catherine had felt as though her retreat had been cut off. Now it was as though her future was also far from smooth.

  John’s anger was beginning to cool.

  ‘I should have known Mike Rodgers would be behind it,’ he said, and Elizabeth’s eyes began to sparkle with anger.

  ‘That’s right, blame Michael!’ she cried. ‘He probably saw she was tired after the journey, and gave her a break.
And she’d be telling him one of her great long rambling tales of how good it was in Scotland when she was a wee girl.’

  Catherine coloured furiously, feeling that Elizabeth was sneering at her, then she saw that Elizabeth was fighting tears, and she nodded rather wearily.

  ‘Got it first time, Elizabeth. That’s exactly what happened. Goodnight, both of you. I’d like to go straight to bed.’

  She mounted the stairs, then went into her bedroom and closed the door, mechanically going through her toilet before crawling in between the sheets.

  It was difficult to decide whether Michael had been more upsetting with his quick kiss, or whether it was Elizabeth with tears sparkling on her lashes.

  Or was it John, who looked so different in his anger, his pleasant good-natured face grim and white? The Cravens had left hours ago, he had told her, and the name had stayed in her mind. Rosalie Craven his ex-fiancée. Had she been here, too, and had John’s anger and upset stemmed more from seeing her than from her own late arrival?

  Or was he merely angry for Elizabeth’s sake? Perhaps she was bringing an upsetting influence to the house, thought Catherine, as she lay shivering between the cool smooth sheets. Perhaps she would really have to think again about moving on, hard though it might be.

  But to where? And what about money? There would be precious little to tide her over.

  Catherine began to feel frightened for her future, and to feel ashamed that she had not a great deal more courage and enterprise. It didn’t occur to her that this could have been the result of the accident which changed her life, and that it would take some time before she was her old self again.

  She lay, staring at nothing for a long time, then fell into a rather troubled sleep.

  CHAPTER VI

  Now that Catherine was quite capable of looking after all the pearls, James Sheridan had increased his stock of silverware, fine porcelain and gift items in gold. Elizabeth and Miss Pryce handled all this between them.