Now and Always

by Andrea Blake

  Anger boiled up inside her. This was a decision which her mother would definitely not support—and one which he had no right to take without consulting her.

  It was nearly half an hour before Neal returned, and Jennifer barely gave him time to close the door before she let her pent-up wrath explode.

  “How dare you sack Mr. Fellows! You have no right to dismiss anyone without consulting my mother first. You must be out of your mind,” she flared furiously.

  Neal crossed to his desk and sat down. “There’s no need to shout, Jennifer. I’m not deaf.”

  “No, you have all your faculties—except a heart,” she said witheringly. “I know Mr. Fellows isn’t much use here now, but no one with an atom of decent humanity would even think of dismissing him. How is he supposed to live until he gets his pension? You know we don’t run a contributory scheme. He’ll have to use up his savings—if he has any. It’s the most mean, cold-blooded thing I’ve heard of.”

  Neal’s calm remained unruffled. “Well, no one could ever accuse you of being cold-blooded,” he said sardonically. “That temper of yours may land you in trouble one day. Calm down, girl. There’s nothing to be gained by blowing your top.”

  This only made Jennifer angrier. “Do you really think you can get away with this?” she demanded scathingly. “You’ll have everyone in the place against you.”

  “I doubt it,” he said negligently. “If I suggest someone should leave—”

  “Suggest!” Jennifer gave a hollow laugh. “That’s an original way of looking at it,” she said acidly.

  “If you’d stop ranting, and listen for a moment—”

  “I’m not ranting. I’m simply standing up for a poor old man who’s worked here since he was a boy. Oh, I know you don’t care what I think. But you can’t ride roughshod over my mother. I’m going to ring her up this minute and tell her everything.”

  But before she could snatch up the receiver, Neal leaned forward across the desk and grabbed her wrist.

  “Will you listen, you little firebrand!”

  She glared at him. “Let me go!”

  “All right ... if you want to make a fool of yourself.” He released her wrist, and sat back again.

  Jennifer picked up the receiver, but something in his tone made her hesitate before she dialled. “What do you mean by that?” she asked icily.

  Neal lit a cigarette before he answered. “You’re very quick to spring to Mr. Fellows’ defence, but have you ever bothered to find out anything about his private life?” he asked, swivelling his chair round so that he could look out of the window at the square.

  Jennifer set the receiver back on its rest. “I know he lost both his sons in the war and that he grows prize chrysanthemums.”

  “You haven’t noticed that he’s been under considerable strain during the past fortnight.”

  “So has everyone here.”

  “This hasn’t anything to do with the store. It’s a personal thing. Yesterday I asked him what the trouble was. He told me that his wife doesn’t know it, but she hasn’t long to live. Perhaps a year ... perhaps much less.”

  Jennifer drew a sharp breath. After a moment, she sat down in the visitor’s chair in front of his desk.

  “She’s been confined to the house for some time,” Neal went on. “Mr. Fellows takes her out in the car on Sundays and Thursday afternoons, but she’s alone all the time he’s at work. As he retires next autumn in any case, I suggested he should give up work immediately. As you say, he’s served Parkers to the best of his abilities for a very long time, so he will remain on full pay until next October. He’s also going to come in as a salesman on Saturday afternoons. Now have you any further objections to make?” he ended, swivelling to face her again.

  A deep flush of colour swept up from her throat. “No ... no, of course not,” she said unsteadily.

  Neal began to sign the letters which she had placed on his blotter earlier.

  “Don’t bother to apologise,” he said coldly. “I realise that, being a Parker, I can’t expect to win your confidence in one short month.”

  He blotted his signatures, crushed out his cigarette, and left the office.

  She did not see him again that afternoon, and later he sent a message that he was going to London on the six o’clock train; and would not be back until the following day.

  The Fletchers had had the house in Churchfield surveyed and the necessary searches made. One evening, about a week after Jennifer’s clash with Neal, they came to Laureldene to tell Louise that the purchase was now complete and they were moving in immediately.

  “We shall decorate it ourselves, room by room, and Robert is going to build in all the wardrobes and kitchen fitments. He’s rather good at carpentry,” Miss Fletcher told them. “Our furniture is coming down on Wednesday.”

  “Let me come over and give you a hand,” Louise offered.

  “Oh, would you? How kind,” the other woman said gratefully. “It was our lucky day when Robert met you, Mrs. Parker. One can feel rather lost in a new place at first if one doesn’t know anyone. Incidentally, Peter and Alison will be coming down the weekend after next. We must have a party. Perhaps we could get permission for the twins to come home, too, Robert. They’re longing to see the house.” At this point Neal came in, and Louise introduced him to Miss Fletcher, whom he had not met. But after staying ten minutes, he asked them to excuse him as he had some work to do.

  “What a splendid head that young man has,” said Miss Fletcher, when he had gone upstairs. “I would like to sculpt him. Do you suppose I could persuade him to sit to me?”

  “I don’t know,” Louise said doubtfully. “He’s working very hard at the moment. We’ve hardly seen him this week, have we, Jenny?”

  “Bring him to the party and I’ll ask him,” Miss Fletcher said. “It isn’t very often that I see a head which really makes my fingers itch.”

  Neal still took Jennifer into town every morning. In front of her mother, his manner towards her was the same as it had been before she had misjudged him so disastrously. But in his office, and whenever else they were alone together, he was deliberately and humiliatingly formal.

  But the next morning, instead of driving into town in silence, he said, “I’ve been thinking about these new room displays on the ground floor. If they’re to look really attractive, we shall need certain accessories ... lamps, pictures, ornaments ... all those things. And the dining suite displays will look better with china and cutlery on the tables. We could buy a small stock of accessories, and change them about from time to time. Or we could arrange to get stuff on loan from the specialist shops, and show a credit card. ‘China by Harris & Bowers.’ You know the style of thing. However, I think it would be better if we launched a new department.”

  “I agree. I suggested it to Wilfred, but he would never hear of it. He said there was no steady sale for ‘occasional’ items,” Jennifer told him.

  “Probably there isn’t, but we can build the thing up gradually, feeling our way. We ought to do well at Christmas.”

  “Who is going to run it?” she asked.

  Neal turned in at a petrol station and drew up alongside the pumps.

  He switched off the engine. “You are.”

  “Me?” she exclaimed, stupefied.

  “Why not?” He opened the door and got out to speak to the attendant.

  “But I don’t know the first thing about it,” Jennifer protested, when they were on the road again.

  “You’ll have to learn as you go along. Five weeks ago I didn’t know much about the furniture trade, but you can pick up anything if you put your mind to it.”

  “But what if I make an awful hash of it?”

  “You’d better not, had you?” he said dryly. He was still using the Guildhall car park and, as they walked the rest of the way, Jennifer began to feel curiously elated. He could not think too badly of her if he was going to entrust a new department to her.

  But when they reached his office, Neal
said, “Young Sally can cope with my secretarial work from now on. You can use Fellows’ office as your centre of operations for the time being, and you may as well start at once.” And he went into his office and closed the door.

  For some moments Jennifer stood staring at the panel of frosted glass, and then she walked slowly along the passage to the next door. Was it possible that Neal now disliked her so much that he had devised this new project simply as a means of getting rid of her? Oh, no ... he was a hard-headed businessman. He would never take such a risk.

  “I don’t care what he thinks of me,” she murmured aloud. “I’ll show him! I’ll make a success of this if it breaks my neck.”

  She spent the morning looking through copies of the Cabinet Maker and other trade journals, and writing to manufacturers and agents for overseas firms. After her lunch break, she went round to a local electrical wholesaler and selected some table and standard lamps, and then she called at the offices of the Midchester News and asked to see last year’s files. She remembered reading an article about a man living out in the country whose hobby was wrought-iron work, and thought it possible that he might be interested in selling some of his things through Parkers.

  Neal came home for supper that night, and before he went up to his room, Jennifer said, “Would you mind if I went to London tomorrow, Neal?”

  “Not at all. Why don’t you take Louise with you?” he suggested. Before Jennifer could explain the purpose of the trip and discuss her ideas with him, he excused himself and went upstairs.

  Jennifer spent the next day looking round the Design Centre and shops like Ostmo and Casa Pupo which stocked the distinctive lines which she had in mind for the store. She also visited a showroom off Regent Street where a number of small manufacturers rented display space. By the end of the day she had garnered a great many ideas and, although she was tired and hungry, having missed her lunch, she also felt curiously stimulated. At last she had a chance to use her judgment and initiative. If she failed, she would have to take the blame. But if she did well, it would be all her own achievement.

  Caught in the rush-hour, she did not reach the station until five minutes before the Midchester train was due to leave. Her mother was hovering anxiously near the barrier, encumbered by several large paper bags and parcels.

  “I’m afraid I’ve been rather extravagant,” Louise said rather sheepishly, when they had found their seats in the dining car. “I’ve spent nearly forty pounds, Jenny. But it’s so long since I had a shopping spree that I went a little mad.”

  “Why shouldn’t you? What have you bought?”

  “A winter coat and a suit and two dresses. Oh, and I bought you the most heavenly Italian sweater, darling. I just couldn’t resist it. I thought it might do for the Fletchers’ party. It won’t be a dressy affair, obviously, but one wants to be a little festive. I do hope you like it. Still, I expect the shop will change it if you don’t.”

  “I’m sure I shall love it. What colour is it?”

  “A lovely deep turquoise shade.”

  As her mother answered her, Jennifer suddenly became aware that a young man sitting alone on the side of the aisle was watching her with slightly unnerving intentness. She had been vaguely conscious of someone’s scrutiny since they first sat down. Now, when she glanced at him, he smiled.

  “I’m sorry, Mummy—what colour?”

  “Turquoise, dear. It’s made of this new crinkle Courtelle, and has a sort of loose cowl collar.”

  A steward stopped to ask if they would care for a drink and Louise ordered two gin and limes.

  “You are living dangerously today,” Jennifer said teasingly. “Tell me about your coat and the suit. I say, you’ve had a manicure.”

  Her mother spread her rose-lacquered fingertips. “Yes, I simply had to put my feet up for half an hour, and the rest-room at the store was packed, so I went into the beauty salon.” Her expression clouded. “Do you know, I haven’t had my nails done professionally since Guy died.”

  “With all these new clothes, you’ll have to have a glamorous new hairdo. Why don’t you try that new place in Lion Street?” Jennifer said quickly.

  Although she did not look at him again, for the rest of the journey Jennifer was aware that the man at the opposite table scarcely took his eyes off her.

  She was not at all surprised when, as the train drew in to Midchester and her mother stood up to reach for her shopping on the rack, he jumped up and offered to help her.

  “Oh, thank you so much. How very kind,” Louise said, smiling at him.

  “You’ve been having a field day,” he said quizzically, putting the last of the parcels on the table for her.

  He was fair, with grey eyes and excellent teeth. There was a scar down his right cheek and, although he was quite young—not more than twenty-five—Jennifer thought he had a slightly dissipated look. Louise laughed. “Yes, I have.”

  The young man grinned, gave Jennifer a glance which made her colour rise, then said “Goodnight” and went off along the car towards the front of the train.

  “What nice manners. I believe he had his eye on you, pet,” Louise said. “I wonder who he is?”

  Neal was waiting for them at the ticket barrier. He, too, eyed Louise’s parcels and lifted an eyebrow.

  As they walked out to the parking yard, Jennifer saw the fair young man again. He was sitting beside a very glamorous blonde girl who was at the wheel of a white Sunbeam Alpine. As Jennifer noticed them, the car shot forward and roared out of the station gates and away.

  On early closing day Jennifer had her first driving lesson. Her instructor brought her back to Laureldene at four o’clock.

  “I should put in for a test at once, Miss Alvery,” he advised her. “There’s quite a long waiting list, so by the time your test comes up you should be ready to have a crack at it. You seem to have quite a good grasp of the clutch and gears already.”

  Jennifer booked another lesson for Sunday morning, and went indoors to find her mother turning out the kitchen cupboards.

  “Where’s Neal? Is he out?” she asked.

  “No, he’s upstairs packing, dear.” Louise lit the gas and put on a kettle.

  “Packing?” Jennifer repeated. It was a mild, bright day, but she felt suddenly cold.

  “Yes, he’s moving into a flat in that big block near Parkers. He heard that one was vacant this morning, so he snapped it up at once. He says he feels he has imposed on us too long already. I told him that was nonsense—that we liked having him. I expect the truth is that he would feel freer with a place of his own. He may want to entertain some of his London friends ... or some girl, perhaps.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Jennifer said dully.

  “I shall miss him,” Louise added, with a faint sigh.

  ‘So shall I,’ Jennifer thought, surprised at herself.

  As she went upstairs to put away her coat, she was disturbed to realise how much this news had upset her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  WILFRED PARKER had been obliged to pay his stepdaughter a standard wage, but he had said that thirty shillings a week was more than enough spending money for a girl of her age, and had forced her to hand over the rest to her mother for board and lodging. It had been impossible for Louise to slip any of the money back to Jennifer, because her husband had kept a strict watch on her weekly accounts and would quickly have discovered any subterfuge. Besides, her housekeeping allowance was so meagre that she had needed every penny of Jennifer’s contribution to enable her to manage.

  On the Friday following her promotion to buyer, Jennifer found that, even after tax had been deducted, her wage was now double what she had earned for the past three years. Putting the crisp new notes into her wallet, she felt like a millionairess. At lunch time she went to the town’s best florist and asked for a dozen deep red carnations to be delivered to Laureldene during the afternoon. Carnations were Louise’s favourite flowers and Guy had often brought a sheaf of them home for her. He had generally forgotte
n birthdays and anniversaries, but he had made up for it by buying unexpected presents. Wilfred had been most punctilious in remembering such occasions, but his gifts to Louise had always been articles for the house and, to Jennifer, Savings Certificates.

  On Saturday, as soon as the store closed, Jennifer raced to the bus-stop and managed to reach home ten minutes earlier than usual.

  “I’ll run a bath for you while you’re having tea,” Louise said, coming out of the kitchen as her daughter closed the front door. “What do you think of my hair?”

  “Oh, Mummy, you look marvellous!”

  “Yes, I am rather pleased with it.” Louise looked at herself in the hall mirror and smiled.

  Wilfred had never given her a personal allowance and, after about a year of marriage, her pride had revolted from the humiliation of asking for the price of a shampoo and set and being grudgingly given the exact amount needed. Since then she had worn her thick soft hair in a chignon style which always looked neat but had never really suited her. Now, with her hair cut short and given height and a casual curl by being set on king-size rollers, she looked a different woman.

  “You don’t think it’s too young for me?” she asked anxiously.

  “Forty-one is young, darling. You look terrific. You must go every week from now on,” Jennifer told her warmly.

  “Well ... every fortnight, perhaps. Oh, I forgot—come and see what arrived this afternoon. It’s in the kitchen.”

  “You have been lashing out!” Jennifer exclaimed, when she saw the gleaming white refrigerator which had been installed during her absence.

  “Not me ... Neal,” her mother said, opening the door to show her the pale pink fittings inside. “It’s a thank-you present for having him here for five weeks. What a generous creature he is. Look, I’ve made a rather gorgeous American mousse called Almendrado for the party tonight.”

  She bent to lift out a large plate on which was a delicious-looking confection sprinkled with green-tinted flaked coconut.