Heaven is High

by Anne Hampson

  ‘Pick up Miss Slade’s fork,’ he said curtly, and almost choking with anger and mortification, Kathryn stooped and picked it up. ‘Fetch a clean one,’ said John Hyland without even waiting to see what Kathryn meant to do with it. She had fully intended fetching another, but the curt order only caused her to have more difficulty in suppressing her anger.

  Delia Slade glanced up at her when she returned with the fork, and thanked her in a perfunctory manner, as though she were speaking to a servant.

  Determined to put the unpleasant episode from her, Kathryn again mingled with the visitors, wandering about the rooms, and now and then going out to the garden. She was standing by the old well when John Hyland and the Slades came from the house. They were chatting and laughing together and Kathryn watched Delia for a moment as she used her charms to the full on the new owner of Marbeck Hall. No doubt, though, she was beautiful, Kathryn had to own. And she certainly knew how to use those enormous eyes. As if sensing the other girl’s interest, Delia glanced over to where Kathryn was standing and, after a slight hesitation, left her parents and strolled across to her.

  ‘I don’t expect we shall see you again,’ she drawled, all her charm appearing to have vanished on leaving her host, ‘so I’ll say goodbye. It must be an awful wrench for you after all this time, but as I said, you’ll soon get another job—though perhaps not one where you’ll have so much of your own way as you had with Mr. Southon. He was a dear, the old man, but he really was rather soft with those who worked for him—Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t have said that, but you know what I mean.’

  ‘It’s quite possible that Mr. Southon got more out of his employees for being soft, as you call it. We all had a great affection for him and would have done anything to please him. Kathryn spoke quietly and with dignity; her manner seemed to annoy the other girl whose lovely eyes kindled for a moment, though her voice was pleasant when she spoke.

  ‘He was certainly well liked. My mother and father miss him very much indeed.’ She smiled and gestured towards the front door of the Hall, where her parents were in conversation with John Hyland. ‘John is also going to be well liked, I’m sure. We were so pleasantly surprised on meeting him. I think he’ll be more efficient, though, and certainly he’ll never be so easy-going with the servants. He says himself that Mr. Southon was far too lax.’

  Lax with whom? With herself, no doubt, thought Kathryn, her anger rising again as she visualized John Hyland discussing her with this girl and her parents.

  ‘People have their own methods,’ she commented at last. ‘No doubt Mr. Hyland considers his will be an improvement on those of Mr. Southon.’

  ‘They’re sure to be—he’s so experienced in business methods, having so many interests in the United States.’ Had he said that? Kathryn wondered, frowning at the idea. No, much as she disliked him, she couldn’t believe he would brag about his possessions. Delia had obviously been taking in all the newspapers had to say.

  The other three were approaching and soon Mr. and Mrs. Slade were saying their goodbyes, and although there was genuine regret in their manner, their words were guarded.

  This was natural, Kathryn owned, seeing that they were in the presence of the man who had dismissed her. Nevertheless, their attitude, usually so friendly and spontaneous, only added to the resentment she was beginning to feel against John Hyland. Hitherto she had accepted his decision as being fair. He didn’t want her in his employ and had every right to tell her so. But he had no right to discuss her with these people, for he had discussed her, telling them, she supposed, about the reception he had been given on arrival, and probably mentioning the caravans, too, she thought, not without a feeling of guilt.

  ‘Well, we really must go,’ Mr. Slade said, smiling as his daughter held out her hand to John Hyland. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow evening, then? We usually have dinner about eight, but come when you like, of course.’

  ‘Come early,’ urged Delia, casting him a fluttering glance from under her lashes. ‘Then I can show you round our conservatories. Father was too modest just now; his orchids really are something special.’

  CHAPTER III

  Several circumstances contributed to Kathryn’s changing her mind about meekly accepting John Hyland’s dismissal and leaving his employ. Retaliation had first become the germ of an idea when he had said she enjoyed many privileges when employed by Mr. Southon. This statement, she felt, could be interpreted as meaning she received favours from her late employer. Then, later, she had not only been put in the position of a servant, but had been made to feel one, deliberately, she believed, by John, and certainly by Delia. Nevertheless, these indignities in themselves would not have induced her to insist on John’s observance of the provision made for her by Mr. Southon, for in spite of them she still felt that John had a right to decide for himself whether or not he wanted to keep her in his employ. However, those slights did rankle, and when only two days before her intended departure she was severely reprimanded by her employer for using one of the cars, she told him, in the heat of the moment, that she was not leaving until the end of the year.

  ‘I was using the car on estate business,’ she flashed. ‘There was a discrepancy in one of our—in one of the accounts, and as I couldn’t convince the tradesman over the phone I decided to go into Macclesfield and take him proof of this mistake. I’ve always used the car and thought nothing of it.’

  ‘You were in the habit of taking the car whenever you liked?—without asking or receiving permission from your employer?’ he queried, raising his brows, and for the moment not particularly interested in her statement that she was not leaving until the end of the year.

  ‘Mr. Southon trusted me not to take advantage of his—his generosity. I could have a car whenever I wanted one, even for my own private use.’

  ‘You were extremely fortunate, Miss Ramsey. I’m afraid I don’t allow my employees such licence.’ He paused before adding, curiously, ‘What’s this about your not leaving?’

  Kathryn flushed and half wished she had not allowed her temper to get the better of her. However, the idea of staying had in fact been growing and she now explained about the clause in the will, wondering how it was he apparently knew nothing about it. The knowledge of its existence certainly took him by surprise, for he stared down at her in disbelief for a while before demanding a fuller explanation.

  ‘Why wasn’t I informed of this?’ he asked wrathfully when she had finished. ‘That solicitor fellow didn’t mention it. Are you quite sure of your facts?’ he added, eyeing her suspiciously.

  ‘You can easily find out,’ she replied, pale but now quite determined to remain in her post. ‘Mr. Southon provided for me to stay on for a year after his death. I’ve almost five months left.’

  He seemed puzzled, as he looked down at her from his great height, that metallic glint in his eyes seeming to bore into her.

  ‘You gave me to understand you were leaving on Saturday. Why this sudden change of plan?’

  Kathryn was standing just inside the door of the sitting-room, not having moved since he had sent for her immediately on her arrival back at the Hall from her visit to Macclesfield. John Hyland was standing in the centre of the room, immaculate in grey flannels and an expensive green linen jacket which had obviously been brought with him from the States. Kathryn felt somehow inadequate and with a little nervous movement she clasped her hands in front of her as if to gain some sort of confidence from the action. But her mouth felt strangely dry and she had difficulty in framing her words.

  ‘I haven’t another job to go to,’ she began, when he interrupted her.

  ‘That’s not the reason for your change of plan...’

  ‘No...’ Kathryn swallowed, thinking again of the type of man they had all expected, and how she herself had actually been prepared to adopt a faintly patronizing air with him. ‘I don’t think I have to give you a reason,’ she managed at last, though she looked down at her hands, avoiding his gaze.

  ‘I demand a reason, M
iss Ramsey.’ His tones were soft; indeed, Kathryn could not imagine his ever raising his voice, no matter how angry he might be. But that soft; indeed, Kathryn could not imagine his ever raising and Kathryn found herself saying,

  ‘I feel you’ve not—not treated me with respect, or consideration, and—and—’ She glanced up, flushing as—she realized what this meant.

  ‘You’re staying on as an act of reprisal, as it were?’

  He looked darkly at her, and she suspected his anger was beginning to smoulder beneath that cool exterior. ‘This is your idea of retaliation? You’ll stay on here even though you know I don’t require your services?’

  ‘It isn’t retaliation, really...’

  ‘Come, Miss Ramsey, at least you can be honest.’ The ‘at least’ filled her with indignation but she remained silent. By now she was fervently wishing she had taken his reprimand and left the room, for she felt herself to be in a most humiliating position. He waited a few moments, expecting some response, but eventually he said,

  ‘The respect and consideration, as you term it, extended to you by your former employer seems to have been out of proportion. I certainly respect my employees—but I in turn wish for respect from them. I think you’ll agree that the little scene I interrupted on my arrival here was far from respectful, and it amazes me that you thought for one moment that I’d keep you on.’

  ‘That was most unfortunate, Mr. Hyland, and I do apologize. Had I been more prudent, and not allowed my sisters to stay here, then it would never have happened. I really was upset about it.’

  ‘You appeared to be enjoying it, nevertheless.’

  There was no answer to that and Kathryn merely shrugged unhappily and lowered her eyes again. After a while he asked her if she were determined to remain at the Hall for another five months, and although Kathryn knew she should defer to his wishes, and leave, she seemed to be driven by some force stronger than herself as she said stubbornly,

  ‘I’m staying, yes, Mr. Hyland.’

  There was a long moment of silence; John Hyland seemed to be deep in thought, but Kathryn also sensed his anger—and his frustration. He was helpless to do anything; Kathryn felt sure this was the first time in his life anyone had defied him and she also felt sure she would never be forgiven for putting him in this humiliating position. She ventured to glance up and a little quiver of apprehension passed through her as she caught again that dark metallic glint in his eyes.

  ‘You realize your conduct is in complete defiance of my wishes, Miss Ramsey?’ Kathryn said nothing, but stood there, biting her lip, and feeling that all the colour had by this time left her face. ‘The situation will not be very comfortable for either of us, you do understand, I suppose?’ His voice was a quiet threat, a very definite assurance that she would come to regret this obstinate disregard of his wishes. She said unsteadily,

  ‘I suppose, in the circumstances, the situation will be awkward, but—’ she glanced at him with a firm resolve in her eyes—‘I intend to take advantage of the provision which Mr. Southon made for me.’

  As the days passed Kathryn began more and more to regret her decision to remain at the Hall, for, as she had suspected her life was being made as unpleasant as possible by her employer. He asked her to do things which he knew very well were not included in her duties, and she suspected he was waiting for her to raise some objections. He would then be within his rights to complain about her conduct and have a legitimate excuse for refusing to pay her salary, in which case she would have no alternative but to leave of her own accord. However, Kathryn steadfastly obeyed all his commands and orders, even though at times it went very much against the grain and she would then have the greatest difficulty in controlling her temper.

  One occasion was particularly trying and she thought the time had actually come when she would be driven to handing in her notice. John had invited the Slades and their daughter to dinner. Emily, who was again unwell, had gone home to be cared for by her mother, and as this left only Edna to do both the cooking and waiting at table, Kathryn gave her a helping hand. They were both in the kitchen when John came in and spoke to Kathryn, in the frigid tones he always used to her, whether they were alone or in the company of others.

  ‘You’ll wait on the table, Miss Ramsey. I want dinner served at eight-thirty.’

  ‘I’ve arranged to go out this evening,’ she returned. ‘I’ll help Edna all I can and see that everything’s ready. She says she can then manage very well on her own.’ Kathryn had been washing fruit; she was now drying it and putting it into a silver bowl. ‘I always go out on Thursdays—’

  ‘You always used to go out on Thursdays,’ he interrupted haughtily, adding, ‘And just whenever you liked, it seems to me. But this evening I shall expect you to be in and, as I’ve said, you’ll wait at table.’

  Kathryn cast a swift glance at Edna, who was staring in some surprise, waiting for Kathryn’s reaction, and, no doubt, thinking this was very different from the way Kathryn was treated by Mr. Southon.

  ‘I’ve made a date, with Mr. Robson—you met him just after you came, if you remember. He talked to you about the pictures.’ Her voice was low, but vibrant with indignation at his treatment of her before Edna. Always the servants had looked up to Kathryn, regarding her rather in the light of a mistress. She had enjoyed the prestige while at the same time not in any way exploiting it at the servants’ expense. In fact, the relationship between everyone in the household had been pleasant, far more pleasant than it was since the coming of the new owner to the Hall.

  ‘Then I’m afraid you must phone Mr. Robson and tell him you’re unable to keep the date. I require your services this evening, Miss Ramsey, and I expect my wishes to be obeyed.’ And with that he left her staring after him as he strode along the wide corridor separating the kitchens from the rest of the house. Her face burned as she resumed her task, and she avoided Edna’s eyes. What should she do? John Hyland was waiting for her deliberate defiance, waiting for an excuse to stop her salary. She should never have insisted on staying here in the first place, Kathryn told herself, not for the first time, for never in her life had she felt so utterly miserable. It was incredible that she could be so unhappy at the Hall, the place she loved as if it were her own. A deep sigh escaped her, a sigh of regret for the happy years that were gone, the years when she had been treated with kindness and respect by her employer. Why did things have to change like this?

  She telephoned Michael, explaining that they had a maid off work ill and she, Kathryn, would therefore have to help with the dinner. He was keenly disappointed, but they made another date for the following evening. This satisfied Michael and after laughingly telling her he was throwing her a kiss over the phone, he said good night and rang off. He was nice, thought Kathryn, realizing that her friendship with Michael was one of the few bright spots in her life nowadays. But she also looked forward to seeing her parents, whom she visited once a week. Also, she visited Mrs. Percival occasionally, and one or two of the other old people whom she had befriended—much to her cost.

  Delia Slade looked ravishing in a cocktail dress of silver lame, with a magnificent necklace of diamonds round her throat and a diamond stud in her hair. Kathryn wore a plain blue cotton dress and her hair was tied back with a ribbon so as not to fall on to her shoulders when she leant over the guests, serving the food. Never before had she done such a menial task, but somehow she performed it with dignity, and despite the obvious satisfaction of Delia, she retained a calm front and even managed to smile at the Slades and answer pleasantly when they spoke to her. But their manner was cool, so very different from their previous attitude of friendliness and their way of treating Kathryn as an equal.

  The meal over, she was asked by John to bring the coffee into the sitting-room and when she arrived with it Delia and John were standing very close together examining a lovely Landseer—The Return from Hawking.

  ‘It’s the colours, John, they’re so marvellous!’ Delia slid a hand along the bottom of the
gilt frame, an elegant hand which then came to rest—quite by accident, it seemed, so cleverly was it done—on John’s arm, which was also outstretched as he pointed to something in the painting. They then both stood away, to view the picture from a distance. Delia’s hand still rested on his arm and he looked down, smiling at her. She returned his smile and despite her dislike of the girl Kathryn found herself catching her breath in admiration. She would captivate John Hyland, she must, for she was devastatingly beautiful. And he was extraordinarily good-looking too; in fact they made a most handsome pair, a couple who would most certainly attract attention wherever they went. Kathryn’s glance moved to Mr. Slade, and then to his wife; both were watching their daughter, and a look of satisfaction had settled on their faces.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Kathryn,’ said Mrs. Slade graciously yet coolly as Kathryn served her coffee. ‘Just leave Delia’s and John’s—they’ll pour their own when they’re ready.’

  Later, as she lay on the lovely French bed, her eyes staring unseeingly at the carvings, Kathryn wondered whether to hand in her notice on the following morning. She was reluctant to accept defeat, but on the other hand she could not tolerate another evening such as this one had been. John’s arrogance, Delia’s supercilious and condescending attitude, and her parents’ cool politeness of manner; these she had endured with apparent calm, but not without rancour. The next morning, however, she was surprised by the hint of a change in her employer’s attitude towards her.

  She had typed some letters and taken them in for him to sign. As she turned to go he called her back and asked if she knew of a contractor who would take on the work of filling a pond which was completely dry.

  ‘From these old records I find that this depression was a small lake at one time,’ he said, tapping some papers lying on his desk. ‘I think I’d like to have it filled again.’