Warrender 13: On Wings of Song

by Mary Burchell

It was Jeremy who said peaceably, 'Leave it until the morning if you'd rather, Carrie. It could be just an office number, and no one would be there at this time of night.'

  'More likely to be the owner's private number,' insisted Aunt Hilda. 'Just think of that poor woman lying awake all night. Now if it were me '

  'But it isn't, Aunt Hilda,' cut in Caroline crisply. 'Anyway, I'm going to bed now.' And she went.

  Fortunately Aimt Hilda's delicate constitution required that she breakfasted late, so Caroline escaped to the office the next morning without further discussion. By now she had come to the conclusion that she had simply imagined the significance of that number. But, all the same, when she arrived at the office and found her employer already there, she took a slip of paper from her handbag and put it down on the desk in front of him.

  'Do you happen to know that telephone number?' she asked casually.

  'Yes, of course,' he replied without hesitation. 'It's Oscar Warrender's ex-directory number. Why?'

  *It was given in a "Lost and Found" advertisment in the evening paper—about a diamond ring.'

  *Really?' He looked mildly interested. 'Something of Anthea Warrender's, I suppose.'

  *I suppose so—I found it. There it is.' And this time it was the ring which she laid on the desk in front of him.

  'Well, I'll be—Where did you find it?'

  'On the grass beside a path in St James's Park. I fell down, and just as I was scrambling up again—there it was, looking like a drop of rain, only more valuable.'

  'I'll say it was!' With an intrigued smile he turned the ring in his hand, watching the way the diamond flashed in the sunlight. 'Could be her engagement ring, I suppose. Even Warrender wouldn't give a ring like that except for a special occasion, I imagine. Are you going to return it in person?'

  'I—I thought of doing so—^yes.'

  There was a slight pause, and then she added rather shortly, 'Have you any objection?'

  'I? No, not in principle. Just remember that you're not only a private person. You represent this firm. Be tactful—about the reward, for instance.'

  Caroline tilted her chin angrily and said almost disdainfully, 'I do know how to behave, you know. And I didn't learn that in this office, I might add.'

  Then, as she stalked to the door, she heard him laugh as he called after her, 'I'm sorry—I apologise. But, above all, don't try to foist that cousin of yours on Warrender, of all people.'

  She checked very slightly in her lofty exit, then walked on, out of his office and across the passage to her own room. There she sat down at her desk and stared in front of her, her chaotic thoughts of the previous night suddenly falling into a clear and almost inevitable pattern.

  It was his own fault, she told herself afterwards. It was he himself who had put the idea into words, wasn't it? She might not have thought of it on her own. At least

  She took the cover from her typewriter and rather deliberately started on the morning's work. Only when she heard her employer leaving his office and then slamming the main door behind him did she pause in her typing. She gave him ten minutes longer, then, when he had not returned, she reached for the telephone and deliberately dialled the Warrenders' number. ^ Almost immediately a woman's charmingly pitched voice answered. And when Caroline asked if she might speak to Lady Warrender she was not really surprised to receive the reply, *Yes, I'm speaking.'

  *Oh, Lady Warrender ' Caroline was

  suddenly breathless*—my name's Caroline Bagshot, and I think I've found your ring. It was '

  'You have} Oh, how wonderful!' The voice at the other end broke slightly and then Caroline heard her call to someone else, *Oscar! Some darling girl has found my ring!—^Where?—I

  don't know ' and then to Caroline, *Where

  did you find it, dear?'

  Caroline explained yet again about finding the ring when she fell down and, to her surprise, the

  celebrated Anthea Warrender (a prima donna in her own right, after all!) asked, just like kind Jeremy, if she had hurt herself.

  'Not much, really. Anyway, I don't mind, because if I hadn't fallen I wouldn't have seen the ring. Lady Warrender, could I—could I bring your ring to you? It sounds silly, but I'd like to see your face when I hand it back.'

  *Why, of course. And I don't think it's silly at all. I think it's very sweet of you to be so concerned. Shall I send the car for you?'

  *Oh, no thank you! You're at Killigrew Mansions, aren't you? If I might come on my way home from the office ?'

  *Yes. What time?'

  'I'd be there between half past five and six.'

  'Then your office can't be very far away.'

  'No, it isn't,' said Caroline. And only when she had rung off did she admit to herself that—by accident or intent?—she had not mentioned where she worked.

  To her relief, Kennedy Marshall was out of the office for most of the day. Then he came in late in the afternoon and she was kept busy until the last minute typing some urgent letters. She hoped and thought that perhaps he had forgotten all about the diamond ring, but just as she was leaving he said rather provocatively, 'Going to collect your reward?'

  'Just so,' she replied with a cool little smile, and she took herself off to Killigrew Mansions, where her timid knock at the Warrenders' door was answered almost immediately by Anthea Warrender herself.

  Caroline recognised her at once, not only from

  photographs but from having seen and heard her as soloist at several concerts conducted by her famous husband.

  *Come in.' She smiled radiantly. 'You're Caroline Bagshot, aren't you?—and you really have my ring?'

  'Yes, indeed.' Caroline held it out to her even before she had been ushered into a large, pleasant studio overlooking the Park.

  'Oh, my dear—thank you!' There were actually tears in Anthea's eyes as she took the ring and slipped it on her finger. 'It's my engagement ring, and I wouldn't have lost it for the world. It had been getting a little loose; it served me right for not having it attended to. I must have pulled off my glove for some reason—though I don't remember doing so—and it wasn't until I got home that I found my ring had gone. I was shattered! My husband said he would replace it with one as near as possible to the original, but that wouldn't be the same thing, would it?'

  'I suppose it wouldn't.' Caroline smiled back at her rather shyly. 'I'm so very glad I foimd it, and I'm only sorry I didn't phone you last night.'

  'It doesn't matter. Nothing miatters now that I have my ring back,' Anthea assured her. 'Did we mention the amount of the reward in that particular advertisement? And would you like it as a cheque right away?'

  'Lady Warrender, I don't want a reward. I mean—^not a money reward. You see '

  'But of course you must have the reward! You've earned it.'

  'I haven't really earned anything,' Caroline

  replied very exactly. *It was just luck, really. But '

  *A11 right. It was my luck that you found it, and your luck too, and you must have the reward.'

  'Lady Warrender, when I said I didn't want the reward, I meant—^not money.' Caroline was speaking rather quickly now. *But I do want something which probably only you can arrange. That was my luck, if you like. I have a cousin— a very dear cousin—^and he has a splendid tenor voice and is finding it very hard to get started. Do you—do you think you could persuade your husband to hear him and—^and perhaps put in a word for him in the right quarter?'

  Anthea Warrender looked slightly taken aback. Then she said slowly,

  *Well, I expect he would hear your cousin, in the circumstances. But I must warn you, my dear, that nothing on earth would make him give a favourable opinion imless he felt it was deserved. Still less would he give a recommendation in any quarter unless he really thought the young man merited it. He couldn't, you know,' she said simply. *He's not that kind of person.'

  'I do imderstand that,' Caroline assured her earnestly. *But if—if he would hear Jeremy and give his opinion. It would either be t
he most wonderful encouragement or—or save him from a lot of future disappointment.'

  *Well, shall we ask Sir Oscar?' Anthea gave that quick smile and, getting up, she went to the door and called, 'Darling, would you come here a minute?'

  He came inmiediately and, as he entered.

  Caroline realised that he was just as overwhelming in a room as he had seemed at the Festival Hall conducting an orchestra. More so, if anything, for great personalities tend to dwarf any ordinary surroundings.

  'This is Miss Bagshot,' Anthea explained. 'She's just brought back my ring.'

  Warrender in his turn thanked Caroline with some charm for having restored the ring which meant so much to his wife.

  'To us both, of course,' he added frankly. 'It was her engagement ring.'

  'So she told me,' Caroline said shyly. 'I'm so glad it was foimd.'

  'Miss Bagshot is not much interested in the offered reward,' Anthea explained. 'Though of course I shan't let it go at that. She has a favour to ask. You see '

  'She has a voice and wants me to hear her,' finished Sir Oscar, a faint shade of boredom coming over his handsome face.

  Caroline drew in her breath in astonishment, but Anthea went on calmly, 'Not exactly. She has a cousin with a tenor voice.'

  'Same thing—by one remove,' commented her husband. 'When would you like me to hear him, Miss Bagshot?'

  'You mean you wilH' Caroline's voice ran up excitedly and a sudden smile irradiated her face.

  'It would be rather churlish to refuse such a modest request when you've just given my wife such pleasure,' returned Oscar Warrender, and he smiled slightly in his turn. 'But I must warn you '

  'I've already warned her, dear,' cut in Anthea

  equably. *She knows you can't—and would not— do anything unless the young man is really worthy.'

  'To which I must add,' Warrender told Caroline bluntly, *that for every worthwhile singer I have to hear, at least two dozen are no good at all, professionally speaking. Is tomorrow evening at six-thirty all Tight?'

  'Indeed, indeed it is!' Caroline clasped her hands together in joy. *And I can't thank you enough. Sir Oscar.'

  'Don't try,' was the rather grim reply. 'You'll probably hate me by seven-fifteen tomorrow evening.' And with a slight but expressive gesture of his hand he turned and went.

  'Well, that's settled!' Anthea gave her friendly smile. 'And we'll expect you both tomorrow evening at six-thirty. What's the cousin's name, by the way?'

  'Jeremy Prentiss. And—and he really is good.'

  'We'll hope so, anyway,' replied Anthea, and it sovmded as though she really meant that.

  It seemed to Caroline that the journey home had never taken so long. The bus simply crawled, stopping at every traffic light and request stop, while her excited hopes and fears ran on ahead. Suppose Jeremy were out?—perhaps for the whole evening. Could she possibly put off Aunt Hilda with just a partial accoimt of what had happened?

  By the time she reached home she was in a fever. But she had arranged in her own mind exactly what she was going to say—how she would calmly give every detail leading up to the stunning denouement of her story. But when it

  came to the point, she was so relieved to hear Jeremy's voice talking to her aunt that she just rushed into the room, confronted the two of them and gasped out,

  *I returned the ring. It belonged to Anthea Warrender. And he—Oscar Warrender—is going to audition you tomorrow evening, Jeremy, and give you his advice!'

  Then she sat down and burst into excited tears.

  'Caroline!' Actually white with joyous shock, Jeremy seized her up in his arms and exclaimed, 'Don't cry, darling! Do you mean what you're saying? Oh, my God—I can't believe it! Warrender? How on earth did you do it?'

  'I just asked him and he said "yes",' gulped Caroline.

  'Will someone tell me what all this fuss is about?' interjected Aunt Hilda. 'Stop crying, Caroline—^my nerves won't stand it. You returned the ring, you say? What reward did they give you?'

  ^That was the reward!' Caroline raised a flushed and tear-stained face from her cousin's shoulder. 'The Warrender audition. That was what I asked for.'

  'You blessed little angel!' That was Jeremy. But his mother exclaimed,

  'You must be mad! That ring was worth I don't know what. And you're telling me they were mean enough to fob you off with the promise of an auditiotiT

  'They weren't mean at all.' Caroline was calmer now. 'In fact—I remember—Lady Warrender said I would have to have something else besides the audition.'

  'Well, thank heaven for that!' Aunt Hilda actually fanned herself with the magazine she had been reading. 'You gave me such a fright! My heart's still pounding. Now pull yourself together and tell us the whole story.'

  So Caroline pulled herself together and gave a fairly coherent accoimt of her incredible day, while Jeremy stood beside her, holding her hand so tightly that it was quite niunb by the time he released her.

  At the end he said, 'Caroline, I—I'll never forget this,' And she loved him more than ever because there was that unusual quiver in his voice.

  Even Aunt Hilda said, 'You know, I could do with a drink. See if there's any sherry left, Caroline.'

  'Not sherry^^ exclaimed Jeremy. 'Not for an occasion like this. This calls for champagne. I'll go along to the corner shop and get a bottle while you and Caroline set the supper. Mother.'

  'What a splendid idea,' agreed his mother, who was not of course committing herself to sharing the preparations for supper. But neither Jeremy nor Caroline cared. They were riding the topmost waves of hope and excitement, and 3ie world was theirs that night.

  The next day Caroline had some nervous tremors on the way to the office. If her employer started asking questions she must somehow manage to prevaricate until the all-important audition that evening was over. And prevaricating was not at all easy when one was face to face with Kennedy Marshall.

  However, it so happened that he was lunching

  with a recent and most prestigious addition to his list of artists, and had little time to enquire about his secretary's affairs. Indeed, when he returned to the office late in the afternoon Caroline detected signs of something like excitement in his demeanour, and she asked with genuine interest, 'Is this Lucille Duparc as glamorous as people say?'

  'Glamorous?—^No, nothing quite as obvious as that.' He smiled reflectively. 'There's something slightly enigmatic about her, both as an artist and a person. I think it's a quality more attractive to men than women. My godmother, for instance, pretends she sees nothing in her. But you must see and hear her for yourself on Thursday next.'

  Caroline, who had never thought of a godmother in connection with her employer and found some difficulty in doing so now, said that she would certainly hear Lucille Duparc.

  'I'll get a ticket on the way home,' she started to say, then stopped, suddenly remembering there would be no time to rim after tickets on the way home. Only just enough time to meet Jeremy and accompany him to the Warrenders' apartment.

  But her employer seemed not to notice the sudden check. He said, 'You won't get anything now, I'm afraid. The place is sold out. Wait a

  minute ' He jerked open a drawer in his desk,

  picked out a small bundle of tickets and ran his

  thumb through them. 'There you are ' he

  tossed one across the desk to her'—and don't lose it. The ticket touts are out in force.'

  'I'll take great care of it,' she promised fervently. 'And thank you very much.'

  *All part of the education of an impresario's secretary/ he assured her with a grin. 'How did you get on with Anthea Warrender, by the way?'

  'Very well. She was absolutely charming, and so happy to have her ring back.'

  'I bet she was. And what about him? Did you meet the great Sir Oscar?'

  'Oh, yes.' With a tremendous effort Caroline kept her voice steady. 'He was very nice to me too, and said the ring meant a lot to both of them because it was—as you guess
ed—^her engagement ring.'

  'Sealed one of the great love stories of the operatic world, as one might say.' He looked rather cynically amused, and then was obviously going to ask another leading question when— perhaps in answer to a silent but frantic prayer from Caroline—the telephone bell rang with blessed insistence, and, as he lifted the receiver, she fled to the safety of her own office.

  The real moment of danger was past, it seemed, for he made no further reference to her encounter with the Warrenders during the rest of that afternoon, and she was able to leave in good time for her meeting with Jeremy at a coffee bar near Piccadilly.

  He joined her two minutes after she had found a vacant table, but he looked pale and nervous, and when she asked him if he would like a coffee, he shook his head.

  'Are you feeling a bit sick?' she enquired sympathetically.

  'Yes. Are you?'

  She nodded, and was aware of a chilling drop in her spirits. The possibility that they might.

  after all, be heading for a ghastly disappointment suddenly pierced her consciousness like a blunt knife. Until that moment she had resolutely refused to entertain any thought which was not hopeful. Now, as she looked across at Jeremy, she realised that with him also confidence was draining away by the minute.

  'We'd better go,' she said huskily at last. And in complete silence they made their way to Killigrew Mansions, up in the lift to the fourth floor, and into the studio where so many before them had been tested—and probably been found wanting.

  They must have looked a rather desperate couple, Caroline thought, for Oscar Warrender, who was already there waiting for them, said, 'There's no need to be scared. It's usually easier to perform for a knowledgeable audience than an ignorant one.'

  'It's just that so much depends on it,' Caroline thought, while Jeremy's strained smile showed that he was thinking much the same.

  Then Anthea came in, greeted Jeremy pleasantly and again told Caroline how happy she was to have her ring back. The preliminaries thus disposed of, Oscar Warrender sat down at the piano and without—to Caroline's surprise— asking Jeremy anything about his training or experience, said,

  'What are you going to sing for me? Choose something in which you feel comfortable. If it's anything I know I'll accompany you. If not, I'll pick it up as we go along.'