by Mary Cummins
‘Try to get to bed early, then,’ said Aunt Lucille comfortably. ‘John has gone out, too. Another late night for him, probably. I don’t know what’s come over everyone these days.’
Uncle James was downstairs, and he looked up with his usual smile when Catherine came in.
‘Hello, my dear. Come and sit here by the fireside.’
‘I’m quite warm, thank you, Uncle James.’
‘Oh.’ He looked at her whimsically. ‘I was rather thinking that you seemed a bit cool these days, Catherine. It would be nice to think I’m wrong.’
She bit her lip, then coloured at the implication of his words. Then she looked him straight in the eye..
‘I’ve found the pearl, Uncle James. It was in the tobacco jar.’
His face registered surprise and delight.
‘Well, congratulations, my dear. I thought you would find it sooner or later. Did John decide to tell you about it after all?’
‘No,’ she said evenly. ‘Michael Rodgers told me.’
‘Michael!’ James Sheridan stared at her, then his eyes became concerned. ‘What did he tell you, Catherine?’
‘Everything.’
Her hands were shaking a little, because suddenly she was getting reaction, and having to keep a tight hold on herself.
‘He told me about how you had bought out his father, just when the business started to pay, and now he’s got the sack. And he told me about ... about the pearl and ... everything...’
She couldn’t think straight, aware of his eyes on her, then she looked at him squarely, and was disconcerted to see only the usual kindness and compassion on his face. There was no anger, as there had been with John.
‘Michael has only been telling you half truths, Catherine, ‘he told her. ‘It’s a long story, my dear, but I would like to tell you what really happened. I had hoped only Michael’s mother and himself, also John and I would be the only people to hear about poor old Freddy Rodgers, but when Michael goes distorting things to suit himself, then I must put it right.’
He pulled up a chair for her, and she sat down obediently, near the fire. She would listen to what Uncle James had to say, but would it be the truth? Obviously it was to be a different story from Michael’s, and she had felt that Michael believed, firmly, every word he had told her. He had sworn it was true.
Yet it was hard to believe that James Sheridan wasn’t also telling the truth...
***
‘Freddie and I started this business together when we came out of the Army. We were both married, with a son ... Elizabeth was born a year later ... and we had such plans for our families. It was hard work, but we put our heads down and got on with it. I had already trained in the buying and selling of diamonds, and Freddie was a watchmaker who was skilled at mending watches and clocks.
‘We took chances, but gradually Freddie wanted to take more chances than I did. He was a gambler, though at the time I didn’t realise how much of a gambler he was. He used to listen to racing results on a small radio he kept at the back of the shop, and I often teased him about losing his shilling.’
James Sheridan sighed, his eyes rather bleak.
‘Only it wasn’t a shilling, Catherine. It ... was a great deal more. I knew little about it at first, until Joan Rodgers came to see Lucille one day. She was in distress, and we learned the true state of Freddie’s home life. He was deeply in debt, all things of value having been sold, and Joan was in despair, wondering which way to turn for necessities.
‘Fortunately the financial side of our business was conducted in such a way that Freddie couldn’t draw out more than his share of the profits, or I dare say it would have been lost for both of us. The four of us ... he and Joan, Lucille and myself ... sat down and worked things out till we had a true picture of his finances, and I think we were all very shocked. Especially Freddy. He was a cheerful, lovable man, but for him gambling had become a disease. His little “flutters” had grown and grown till it grew into something he couldn’t handle. One could not blame him, Catherine. It’s a ... a form of illness in much the same way as alcoholism. It’s one of the worst for the family to bear.
‘Freddy offered a solution, and asked me to buy him out. He wanted to wipe the slate clean, and try to start afresh, and it was quite a setback to Lucille and me, trying to find the money to give to Freddie. Lucille had a little money of her own, which she insisted on putting into the kitty, and I parted with some things I had hoped never to lose ... old books and pictures which I have never been able to replace. The rest we borrowed.’
Catherine said nothing. She watched James Sheridan and knew that she was hearing exactly what had happened all those years ago.
‘It’s true that the business was just beginning to pay. Perhaps in some ways that was unfair to Freddie, but we didn’t see it like that at the time. We had no real means of knowing that success lay | ahead.
‘At any rate, Lucille and I made a great effort and gradually we came out on top. Freddie set aside a room, in his house and kept on mending clocks and watches, and letting Joan manage things for him. We sent him as much work as we could and sometimes, we knew, the old disease would break out and he would keep having to make fresh starts.
‘I went to see him as often as I could, hoping to help. But he changed, and became bitter. Then he was ill and ... well, he died.’
James sighed.
‘The children were growing up. We helped Joan as best we could, and after a time she married again. Michael grew into a fine boy, and when I used to remember the plans Freddie and I made for our sons, I offered him a position in the firm.
‘Even in those days, I ... I felt he and Elizabeth would...’ James broke off again, his face hardening suddenly. ‘I didn’t know he had his own plans made ... behind my back!’ he said harshly. ‘He was using his position in the firm for his own ends. I can’t imagine his mother would know. Joan’s a fine woman, and was always grateful for any help we tried to give. She’s moved from the old house now. We’ve rather lost touch with her, but we used to send her our fondest regards ... through Michael. I wonder if she ever got them!’
There was a long silence while Catherine sat quietly by the fireside. She thought of Michael’s dark unhappy eyes and how convinced he was that the Sheridans had cheated his family. Did he have a point in that James Sheridan had reaped the benefit of years of work done by his father? Yet his father could so easily have ruined the business entirely.
‘Does Michael know? That his father had gambled away his share of the business?’
Uncle James frowned.
‘Of course. At least, he knew his father had to sell out for financial reasons. I don’t know how much his mother told him when he was old enough to understand...’
His frown deepened as he stared at Catherine.
‘We made no secret of it to him. Though, of course, any time I spoke to Michael about his father, it was mainly about the happy times in our association. But he knew why the partnership had been dissolved.’
‘But he believes you took his best years of hard work, then bought him out just before the business became prosperous. He believes that was a form of cheating.’
‘His mother wouldn’t allow him to believe that.’
‘I should have thought his mother would say nothing to cast reflection on his father’s memory.’
James was leaning forward.
‘No,’ he said slowly, ‘that’s true. I ... I suppose I never really thought about it. Time has gone past, and for me the early struggles of those days have dimmed down. And they were struggles, believe me. And it never occurred to me that it could be different for Michael ... that he had, in fact, been nursing this grudge. I ... I thought he would become like another son to me, when he married Elizabeth. I thought he really loved her, even as children.’
Uncle James sat tapping the arm of his chair, and Catherine leaned forward.
‘Couldn’t you tell him the truth?’ she asked gently, and watched a slow flush mount his
cheeks.
‘He shouldn’t have to be told anything,’ he said angrily. ‘He’s been treated honourably and decently ever since he came into the firm. I was willing to trust him with my daughter’s happiness. If that wasn’t enough for him, I don’t know what was. Why should I go crawling to him to make him think well of me? He would only accuse me of lying to blacken his father!’
Catherine nodded. This was probably true. It looked as though there was a great misunderstanding between Michael Rodgers and the Sheridans, and it was insurmountable.
Only Elizabeth was in the middle.
‘Not even for Elizabeth’s sake?’ she asked gently.
‘Especially for her sake. I can no longer trust that young man. Elizabeth will get over him. She’s young enough.’
But Elizabeth felt things so deeply, thought Catherine, and her thoughts turned to John. Perhaps she could appeal to him to help. Somehow it seemed cruel that two young people could be so unhappy because of things that had happened in the past. Because she was now convinced that Michael’s heart was aching as much as Elizabeth’s.
She rose. ‘I think I’ll go to bed, Uncle James.’
‘All right, my dear. Oh, if you care to let me see your pearl again...’
The pearl! Her face paled a little, and she sat down again suddenly.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about it? Did Mother know?’
Again he looked at her levelly.
‘I don’t know, but looking back, I don’t think so. Though I couldn’t be sure of that at the time. You see, your father said he had plans for that pearl, but didn’t say what they were. Remembering my experience with Freddie...’
James Sheridan’s cheeks suddenly coloured again, and Catherine could sense his embarrassment.
‘You see, my dear, I thought I knew Freddie so well, but I didn’t know him at all. I had no idea he was such a gambler. So that when your father wouldn’t discuss the pearl, I ... I didn’t want to pry too deeply. Later ... well, I wondered if it hadn’t gone to meet some liabilities, which I knew nothing about, and I didn’t want to ask your mother in case it upset her in any way.
‘David said it was a secret from her, as yet. That’s the last we heard. Suppose I had asked her, and her hopes had been raised, then she had found that the pearl had been used for ... well, something. Wouldn’t that have been upsetting?
‘So I decided it wasn’t my affair. I offered to help her in any way I could, as I had done with Joan. I encouraged her to take a holiday, knowing you were all right with the Neills. Then ... later ... when that tragic business happened, I encouraged you to come here, and to go through things carefully ... just in case. I was sure Alison would come to me if she found it, or would tell me if she had sold it elsewhere. You see?’
‘I see,’ said Catherine slowly, then she looked at him levelly. ‘Will you want to buy the pearl, Uncle James?’
His eyes twinkled.
‘Only if you really want to sell it, and I think your father’s old market for his pearl should have first refusal, don’t you? I can hardly start a new line with one pearl.’
Her eyes cleared and she bent forward and kissed his cheek.
‘Uncle James, I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘Lots and lots, but it’s getting late. I must go up now.’
‘All right, my dear. Goodnight.’
As she mounted the stairs, the front door opened, and John came into the hall. For a long moment they stared at one another, but Catherine saw no softening of his mouth.
Perhaps he had been out with Rosalie, she thought. Perhaps it cheered him to know that one girl wanted him. Miss Pryce had hinted that she also wanted the diamonds he could give her, but perhaps it wasn’t true, and Rosalie now knew she really loved John.
‘Goodnight,’ she called huskily.
She wanted to apologise to him for doubting their motives in taking her into their home.
‘Goodnight,’ he said crisply, and she went on up to bed.
CHAPTER X
Elizabeth’s improvement was very slow, and some days she looked pale and depressed. Catherine saw that Aunt Lucille was worried about her, but the older woman maintained a cheerful attitude towards her, and had long talks with the doctor in private. As soon as Elizabeth was able to get up, Lucille planned to take her abroad for a month or two.
‘Not too far away, Mother,’ pleaded Elizabeth, who had agreed to her plans, as much to make her mother happy as to improve her own health. ‘I don’t feel like travelling too far afield.’
‘Not the Channel Islands again, dear,’ protested Lucille, who loved going there, but who felt that somewhere different was called for. Elizabeth must be taken out of herself.
Catherine enjoyed sitting in on the discussions, but she herself was feeling restless and dissatisfied with her life at the moment. Nothing seemed to be going right. John was considerate and polite towards her, but she felt that a coolness had grown between them, a sort of barrier which just wouldn’t go away, even though she had told him, haltingly, that she had been mistaken.
‘I’m glad you feel that,’ he told her gravely. ‘I’m glad you don’t feel that my father and I conceal horns under our hair.’
But their friendship had undergone a change, and now John treated her warily, and she longed for the old teasing affection. Yet perhaps that affection might be just as bad as indifference. It would be a far cry from love.
If only she could dear things up between Elizabeth and Michael, she thought unhappily. That, at least, might be something accomplished. Yet if she saw Michael again, he would only think she was being hoodwinked by the Sheridans. And she could only make him try to see the truth by telling him what James Sheridan had told her about his father. She couldn’t possibly do that, thought Catherine, her whole being shrinking from such a thing. The only person who could, perhaps, tell him would be his mother.
His mother. He had promised to take Catherine to meet his mother one day, pointing out the pretty bungalow where she lived with his stepfather, as he drove Catherine home in his car one day. Michael now lived in a small flat, above the shop which she now knew was his.
On Wednesday evenings as she returned from evening classes on the bus, Catherine looked at the bungalow. Would it do any harm for her to see Mrs. Rodgers, who was now Mrs. Someone Else? Catherine did not even know her new name.
She dismissed the idea almost as soon as it was born. No doubt Michael’s mother would be very angry at her interference. Yet as the days slipped by, and she saw Elizabeth getting slowly better, but still unhappy, her old courage and pride no longer being worn like a proud flag, Catherine felt her resolution being strengthened. What had she to lose? If Michael’s mother asked her to go, then she could bear the humiliation, and Elizabeth would be no worse off.
The following evening she gathered her courage together and caught the bus out to the bungalow, her knees shaking a little as she walked through the white-painted gate and up the flagged path. Michael’s stepfather must be a keen gardener, she decided, looking at the neat borders and plentiful flowers.
The woman who came to the door was so like Michael that for a moment Catherine could only stare, then she recovered enough to introduce herself.
‘I’m Catherine Lyall, and I live with the Sheridans. I ... I worked with Michael before he ... before he left the firm.’
‘Of course. Michael has talked of you many times. Please come in, Miss Lyall. Michael rather forgot to tell me he was bringing you, and he said he would be here after eight-thirty, so do forgive me if I’m not quite ready to receive visitors yet.’
She was picking up discarded newspapers and a pair of comfortable slippers, but Catherine scarcely noticed.
‘Michael ... coming later?’ she asked. ‘Oh dear, I didn’t know. I’m afraid he won’t want to find me here, Mrs...’
‘Duncan. Joan Duncan.’
‘Mrs. Duncan. In fact, I don’t think you would welcome me either, if you knew why
I had come. Perhaps it would be better if I just go...’
Mrs. Duncan looked puzzled and a little alarmed.
‘That sounds rather ominous, Miss Lyall. I think I would prefer to hear why you have come. Do sit down.’
Catherine sat down slowly, and rather gingerly, on the edge of a deep armchair, then drew a deep breath.
‘Because of Elizabeth,’ she said simply. ‘She and Michael. There’s such misunderstanding between them. I don’t know how it could ever be unravelled. Yet Elizabeth is so unhappy, and I bet Michael is, too. So I thought that ... well, you could help, Mrs. Duncan. You know the whole story. At least, Uncle James said you did. Only Michael seems to have got it wrong.’
‘Got what wrong?’
Catherine bit her lip, very embarrassed.
‘About his father,’ she said quietly, and the older woman stiffened.
‘He thinks James Sheridan cheated his father after years of hard work, when he bought him out. Only Uncle James says it wasn’t quite like that. There were ... other reasons that you’d know about.’
She shot a glance at Mrs. Duncan’s stony face, and rushed almost blindly into the whole story, about what Michael had told her, how she had tackled James Sheridan and even about her own pearl.
‘I had to ask Uncle James,’ she said at length, ‘and I feel he was telling me the truth. Only it’s keeping them apart ... Elizabeth and Michael ... if they each see a different side of the coin. If ... if Michael doesn’t know the real truth, couldn’t he be told, Mrs. Duncan?’
The older woman got up and walked nervously over to the window.