Now and Always

by Andrea Blake

  In the kitchen, Jennifer made coffee while Tony put out some food.

  “How’s that?” he asked good-humouredly. “Cold roast chicken legs, smoked salmon sandwiches and peach tarts.”

  Relieved and warmed by his cheerful acceptance of her rebuff, Jennifer smiled back at him. “They look delicious.”

  “Do you always keep the wolves at bay by demanding to be fed?” he asked, while they were eating.

  “I don’t know any wolves,” she said lightly.

  “You do now. I’m still planning to kiss you, sweetie.”

  Jennifer did not look at him. “Tony, I like you very much ... as a friend. Please don’t complicate it.”

  “Hey now, you’re beginning to sound as if you’re serious. What’s the trouble? What’s gone wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong, Tony. It’s just that I don’t want to ... to pretend things which aren’t true. More coffee?”

  He shook his head, a flicker of irritation in his eyes now. “You’re talking in riddles. I’m not with you.”

  Jennifer slid out of her chair and went to the sink to rinse her plate.

  “I mean there’s nothing serious between us,” she said, turning on the taps. “There never will be.”

  He did not answer, and when she glanced at him, he was jabbing out his cigarette, his expression unreadable. But as she returned to the table to put the remaining food away, he suddenly stood up and caught her close.

  “Maybe I could be serious about you, Jennifer,” he said, before he kissed her.

  For a moment she felt nothing at all, and then an uncontrollable shudder of revulsion shook her, and she pushed him away.

  “Now look here—” Tony began angrily.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.” Jennifer just managed to stop herself rubbing the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away the feel of his lips on hers. “That sounds like some of the others arriving,” she added hastily, as he took a step towards her.

  But the car she had heard did not slow down. After it had passed the house, Tony said, “Oh, come off it. You didn’t really believe there was going to be a party, did you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “There’s no one else coming. You can’t be as naive as all that.”

  Jennifer stared at him for an instant, then turned and went into the lounge to fetch her coat and bag.

  When she came back, she said evenly, “Please take me home now, Tony.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’ve only just arrived. You don’t really want to go home yet. Look, what’s got into you tonight? You’re not still worrying about your cousin being steamed up, are you?”

  “Neal isn’t my cousin, and he has nothing to do with it. You lied to me, Tony. You know I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known we were going to be alone all evening.”

  “Why not, for Pete’s sake? It isn’t a crime to be alone, is it?”

  “It’s no use arguing. I want to go home,” she said.

  She expected a sulky capitulation, but instead a rather ugly gleam lit Tony’s light blue eyes.

  “Sorry, sweetie, no can do,” he said insolently.

  A small stab of panic went through her, but her face was composed as she said, “Then I’ll have to get back myself, won’t I?”

  As she turned towards the hall, he caught her sleeve. “I’m not bluffing, you know. If you walk out now, I won’t come after you.”

  She shook off his hand. “I’m not bluffing either. Goodbye, Tony.”

  “You’re crazy!” he exclaimed furiously. “Darn it, I only kissed you.”

  Jennifer opened the front door and went out into the darkness.

  “You’ll be back,” he called after her.

  But she ignored him, and turned out of the gate towards the village.

  There was a time-table posted on the wall of the bus shelter outside the post office, but as the nearest street lamp was thirty yards away it was impossible to read the small print. Jennifer crossed the road to the public house.

  The smoke-room was empty, but she could hear men playing darts in the public bar. When the landlord appeared, she said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but could you tell me what time the next bus for Midchester leaves, please?”

  “You’ve missed it, miss. The last bus into the city goes at six o’clock, this time of year,” he told her. “There used to be another at eight, but the Company took it off last winter. There weren’t no call for it, you see. Not since the telly started. There’s a better service from Sandport, but it’s a goodish walk, mind.”

  No wonder Tony had sounded so confident that she would return to the beach house, Jennifer thought in dismay. He must have known about the buses.

  “I see,” she said slowly. “Well, in that case I shall have to get a taxi. Have you a phone I could use, please?”

  Before the man could answer, a voice from behind her said, “I’ll take you home, Jennifer.”

  She swung round. “Neal!”

  He came forward to the counter and asked the landlord for a packet of cigarettes. When he had paid for them, he said calmly, “Shall we go?”

  His car was parked across the road. As they walked towards it, Jennifer said huskily, “What are you doing out here?”

  “I followed you.” He walked round the Lancia to open the nearside door for her. As soon as she was seated, he closed the door and returned to his own side. In the faint light from the dashboard his expression was totally unreadable.

  When they had been driving for about ten minutes, Jennifer could not stand the silence any longer.

  “Aren’t you going to say ‘I told you so’?” she asked, in a small voice.

  “I don’t know what happened,” he answered evenly.

  “I—I thought it was going to be a party.” She swallowed a constriction in her throat.

  “But it turned out to be an evening a deux, I gather?” Neal’s tone was still quite casual.

  “Yes,” she admitted hollowly.

  He dipped his headlamps for an approaching lorry and, when it had passed, said, “It was just as well I followed you, then.”

  “Why did you, Neal?”

  “I was annoyed,” he said dispassionately. “Then when I realised you were heading for the coast, I had a hunch you might wind up in difficulties.”

  “You were waiting outside all the time?”

  “Yes—and very illuminating it was,” he replied obscurely.

  There was nothing on the road ahead, but she felt the car slowing. A few minutes later they swung into a lay-by where Neal braked, then switched off the engine.

  “This time you can’t run away,” he said, turning to her. And then, still in that quiet controlled voice, he added, “I’m in love with you, Jennifer, and I think you feel the same way—in fact I’m sure of it. You gave yourself away this afternoon. So why, in heaven’s name, have you been acting as if you couldn’t stand the sight of me?”

  “What do you mean? I—I gave myself away?” she asked, in a stifled voice.

  In the darkness he found her tightly clenched hands.

  “My dear girl, it’s no use telling people you never want to see them again within seconds of kissing them so ... so conclusively,” he told her, with amusement in his tone. “I may have kissed you against your will—but I couldn’t have forced you to respond, you know.”

  Her nails dug into her palms. “What about Suzanne?”

  “Suzanne? What the devil has she to do with it?” he asked blankly.

  Jennifer did not answer, and there was a brief pause before Neal reached up to switch on the roof light.

  “Well, what about Suzanne?” he repeated, with a frown of seemingly genuine perplexity.

  Her face averted, she said flatly, “There was a photograph of you and Suzanne in that book you lent me. It was taken on a beach somewhere abroad.”

  He released his hold on her hands. “On Ischia, to be precise. It’s an island in the Mediterranean. I met Suzanne there last spring. We we
re both guests at a house party.”

  “But she said—” Jennifer stopped short.

  “Yes?” he prompted quietly.

  Then it all came out in a rush. “She said you knew her before ... that you took her out a lot ... she thought you were serious about her. That’s why she came here, to Parkers. She loves you too.”

  His palm against her cheek, he forced her to look at him.

  “Too?” he said softly, triumphantly.

  She drew in a breath ... she was committed now, and glad of it. The relief was immeasurable. “Yes,” she whispered huskily, surrendering. “Yes, I love you too.”

  For an instant she thought he was going to take her in his arms, and her heart seemed to turn over inside her.

  But this time it was he who turned from her. “Do you, Jenny?” he said heavily. “I wonder? You’re so young and inexperienced.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said bewilderedly.

  Neal sighed and moved further away. “I thought of a dozen reasons why you should fight shy of me,” he said wryly. “I’m older than you ... and you’ve had so little chance to try your wings. The truth, it seems, was simply that you didn’t trust me.”

  “Oh, Neal, that’s not fair!” she exclaimed distressfully. “I—I didn’t know what to think. Suzanne is so glamorous and sophisticated ... so much more your type than I am. And then the evening I came to tell you about my driving test, she was there in your flat and ... and you took so long to answer the door. I couldn’t help believing what she told me.”

  “And what exactly did she tell you?” he asked grimly. “The truth, please. Don’t try to cover up for her. I want to know everything.”

  Listening to her faltering account of Suzanne’s devious tactics, his expression became even grimmer.

  Alarmed by the glitter in his eyes, Jennifer touched his arm in a gesture of appeal. “Oh, please, don’t look like that, Neal. Don’t be too hard on her.”

  He looked down at her hand on his sleeve. After a moment, he said tonelessly, “You really believed I would go to such fantastic lengths to get complete control of the store?”

  “I’ve told you ... I didn’t know what to believe.”

  He took her hand and put it back on her lap. “If you loved me, you would have trusted me, Jennifer,” he said flatly.

  Then he switched on the engine and put the car in gear.

  “No—wait! Neal, listen to me a minute.”

  Gripping the handbrake, he waited.

  “I—I do love you,” she said desperately. “It isn’t fair to be angry because I wasn’t sure of your feelings. How could I be? How can any girl ... until she’s told?”

  “I thought women were supposed to have an instinct about these things,” he said, his mouth hard.

  “Perhaps they do sometimes, but this has never happened to me before.”

  He looked at her then, his expression softening a little.

  “You’ve had a tough day. I’ll take you home,” he said, more gently.

  The drive back seemed interminable. Jennifer watched the long beam of the headlamps through a blur of tears. All the joy that had welled up inside her when Neal said he loved her had been completely quenched by the way he had removed her hand from his sleeve and accused her of failing to trust him. Now it took all her control to stop hot despairing tears sliding down her cheeks.

  When they reached Laureldene, she was dismayed to see the hall light on. Her mother and Miss Fletcher must be back.

  Neal braked the car close to the steps, but he did not stop the engine.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked unsteadily, when he made no move to switch off.

  “Not now. You’re tired and upset. I should have an early night if I were you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” His tone was as briskly impersonal as if they were little more than acquaintances.

  And when he reached across her to thrust open the nearside door, and the roof light automatically came on, she saw that his face was equally aloof.

  With a stammered goodnight, she slid out of the seat and shut the door. Her fingers were still on the handle as Neal changed gear. A second later the car was in motion again.

  Jennifer would have given everything she possessed to be able to slip into the house and up to her room without being seen. But, inevitably, her mother had heard the motor and came out into the hall just as she was closing the front door.

  “You’re back early, darling. Would you like some tea? It’s only been made a few minutes.”

  “No, thanks, Mummy.” Jennifer pretended to be rummaging in her bag.

  If her mother saw her face she would know at once that something was seriously wrong.

  But, before she could think of a pretext to escape upstairs, Louise said, “I’m glad you’re back early. I’ve something rather important to tell you, dear. Come into the kitchen.”

  “Is it about the bazaar? Did you break all records?”

  As she took off her coat, Jennifer looked at herself in the hall mirror. Her face was very pale, but otherwise there was no sign of the emotional turmoil inside her. Perhaps, with an effort, she could manage to get through another ten minutes without cracking.

  In the kitchen she was surprised to find, not Miss Fletcher, but her brother.

  The Colonel rose as she entered. “Good evening, Jennifer.”

  “Oh ... good evening.” She forced a wan smile.

  “You’d better sit down, Jenny. I’m afraid this may be a bit of a shock for you,” said her mother.

  Her expression as she spoke was humorous. But, if Jennifer had been less absorbed in masking her inward misery, she would have noticed that Louise was nervously fingering the string of pearls at her throat.

  “A shock?” she repeated blankly.

  “Well, perhaps ‘surprise’ would be a better word. You see...” Louise hesitated, as if uncertain how best to express herself.

  The Colonel cleared his throat. “The fact is that I’ve asked your mother to marry me, Jennifer.”

  It was several seconds before Jennifer really grasped what he had said. Then, as she understood, all her own hurt and confusion was momentarily swept aside.

  “Oh, Mummy, how wonderful! I’m so glad. I thought ages ago what a good thing it would be.”

  “Did you? ... Did you really, darling?” Louise seemed astonished. “Well, if I had known that, I would have said ‘Yes’ at once. I was so afraid you wouldn’t approve.”

  “Of course I approve—why ever not? I’m absolutely delighted,” Jennifer exclaimed, hugging her.

  “There you are, my dear, I told you you were worrying unnecessarily,” Robert Fletcher said cheerfully, as the two women embraced.

  Next morning, Jennifer was woken by her mother bringing in a cup of tea.

  “I’ve been up since six. I know it’s absurd to be in such a tizzy at my age, but I just can’t help it,” Louise said sheepishly, perching on the edge of the bed. “Oh, Jenny, do you really think I’m doing the right thing? I made such an appalling mistake when I married poor Wilfred.”

  Jennifer hitched herself into a sitting position. She had had a wretched night and felt ghastly, but somehow she managed to put on a passably cheerful face.

  “But this is quite different, Mummy. You really want to marry Colonel Fletcher. So how can it be a mistake?”

  Louise sipped her tea, her expression still faintly doubtful. “I wonder how his children will react. They may not like the idea of having a stepmother.”

  “Nonsense—they’ll be as pleased as I am. They like you very much. Does Miss Fletcher know yet?”

  “I expect Robert told her when he got home last night. But I’m sure she won’t object. She once told me that if she had no responsibilities she would like to travel.”

  Before Jennifer left the house that morning, Miss Fletcher rang up to say she could not be happier about her brother’s news, and she was sure the children would be equally pleased.

  “There, what did I tell you? Now stop worrying. F
rom now on everything is going to be fine,” Jennifer said brightly, as she kissed her mother goodbye.

  But, as she waited at the bus stop, her shoulders drooped and her throat ached as she remembered the cold way Neal had removed her hand the night before.

  The store had been open for half an hour, and Jennifer was vainly trying to concentrate on some invoices, when her telephone rang.

  “Will you come up to my office, please?” Neal’s voice was clipped.

  Before she could reply, he had replaced his receiver.

  Outwardly composed, but inwardly shaking with nervous apprehension, Jennifer went upstairs and tapped on his door.

  He was standing by the window when she entered, and the sight of him—tall and straight-backed, the nape of his neck still tanned from his summer travels—sent a piercing longing through her. Her mouth quivered.

  But when he turned towards her, her face was as expressionless as his.

  “I’ve just been talking to your mother.” He gestured towards the telephone. “She seemed surprised that you hadn’t already told me the good news.”

  Jennifer swallowed. “Yes, it is good news, isn’t it? I think they’ll be very happy together.”

  Neal eyed her for a moment. “You sound as if you had some reservations.”

  “Not at all. I’m delighted.”

  He went behind his desk and removed a rubber band from a long roll of tracing paper.

  “In the circumstances, I imagine your mother will want to dispose of Laureldene as soon as possible.” He unrolled the paper, spread it out and used his cigarette box and desk lighter as weights. “This is a sketch plan of the new house. Come and tell me what you think of it.”

  To see the plan properly, Jennifer had to stand quite close to him. Her heart began to thud so loudly that she felt sure he must hear it.

  “As you see, I’ve changed my ideas. Instead of several small houses, there will be just this one large one built over the foundations of Laureldene.”

  “It looks very nice,” she said vaguely, after one glance.

  “Well, you don’t have to make up your mind immediately. You may prefer something entirely different?”

  “I?—what do you mean?”

  His hands on her taut shoulders, he turned her gently to face him. “It will be your house, Jenny—if you want it. I’m asking you to marry me.”