‘How many staff do you employ?’
‘Just her and a couple of men at the yard. That’s just down the street.’ He pointed. ‘You might find the accounts for that are a bit complicated at first, what with there being all different commodities – scrap iron, wool, glass and so forth – but if you get into difficulties just ask. I’ll get somebody to bring the invoices here every day so’s you won’t have to go there, it’s a bit mucky.’ The carefully chosen words were difficult to keep up. ‘But I might require you to go and collect the shop takings and receipts and things from the shop some evenings when I’m not here. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I also run a finance company.’
‘You do have a lot of enterprise!’
For some reason she made him feel silly. He felt himself redden. ‘Well, I might have a lot of irons in the fire but they’re all pretty modest, so you won’t be overloaded with work. Shall we go through t’ledger now?’ Damn, he had done it again!
Pulling out a chair he asked her to be seated at the table, hovered for a moment examining the texture and length of her black hair, then sat down beside her, much nearer than was proper for an employer and his secretary. She moved her chair to create a gap between them, unwitting of the wound she had inflicted. Still, her presence was acute. He could smell her light perfume, and the faintest hint of mustiness as if her dress had been hanging in the wardrobe all winter and this was its first airing.
Even with this gap between her and the man she hated, Oriel felt his assault, wanted to leap up and confront him, ask him how he could desert a wonderful woman like her mother. Oh, but he was cool! He could sit here quite calmly when she herself was almost driven to distraction by his presence. Her nostrils twitched. The only other man she had smelled was Noel, whose body odour was masked by ether and besides he had never been quite as close to her as this. Together, they went through Nat’s business accounts. Oriel commanded herself to attend his instructions, but failed, dwelling instead on the timbre of his voice, the light covering of hair on the back of his hand, the dark wave that fell over his brow, his surprisingly manicured nail as it traced each page.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Nat’s query was unexpected. Oriel replied that that would be nice. He rose and was gone for a considerable time. His return was heralded by a series of dull thuds on the outside of the door. Perplexed, Oriel opened it.
‘Sorry, I had my hands full.’ Nat entered, bearing a cup and saucer in each hand. ‘I hope you like it strong? That’s the way I make it.’
Oriel looked uncomfortable. ‘Oh, I didn’t realize… otherwise I would have offered. Don’t you have a maid?’
‘A maid?’ The blue eyes looked askance. ‘No, I couldn’t be doing with anyone living in.’ He handed one of the cups to Oriel. ‘I have a woman who comes to clean for me, though, and a fella who does the garden. No, I prefer to live alone.’ He put his cup to his lips. ‘Ah, that’s nice isn’t it?’
‘Very nice.’ Oriel took a few sips, then indicated the books. ‘But you’re not paying me to drink tea. I really should get on.’
‘Oh, yes.’ Nat felt as if he were being dismissed and backed away. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it, Miss Maguire. I shan’t be going out today, not that I doubt your capabilities you understand, but it is your first day so… I’ll be in the back if you need me.’
Need you, thought Oriel? Where were you when my mother needed help? But she smiled and managed to continue the pretence, turning up for work each day, each week with no hint of the bitterness that raged inside her, as bitter as the war that raged upon the mangled fields of Europe.
* * *
Nat made all manner of excuses not to leave the house when Oriel was present. Just to be under the same roof, to be able to pop his head into the front parlour under the guise of offering refreshment, was enough to lighten his heart. When she went home he felt a sense of loss, and if he was not meeting Violet he went to bed early in order to hasten the morning and Oriel’s return.
His eagerness for matrimony appeared to have deserted him, for he did not press the matter with Violet’s parents so much as he had done initially. In fact his preoccupation with Oriel seemed to have made him forget that there was a war on. Only when the question of a compulsory call-up was bandied in the newspapers did he set a definite date for the wedding. With this only a short time away, Violet was permitted for the first time in their courtship to visit Nat’s house unchaperoned – though only when it was light, her mother had decreed.
Oriel’s fingers were beavering away on the typewriter which she had persuaded Nat to buy when a tattoo was performed on the doorknocker that morning. She paused, then hearing Nat’s footsteps in the hall continued with her work. The sound of the metal keys prevented her from hearing the caller’s voice; in fact she did not realize he had invited his visitor in until, in the act of folding her completed document, she heard the tinkling girlish laughter. Inquisitiveness led her to the wall against which she held her ear, but the voices were distorted. There was nothing else for it but to go and find out what was happening.
Nat looked startled as, with a peremptory knock, Oriel came into the room where he and Violet were cuddling on the sofa. He jumped up; so did Talbot.
‘Mr Prince, I’m so sorry, I had no idea that you had a visitor!’ Most apologetic, Oriel was staring at a flustered Violet, who gave a little cry and pulled at her bodice.
Nat cleared his throat. ‘Oh, Miss Maguire, this is my fiancée, Miss Violet Ward!’
Now it was Oriel’s turn to be shocked. Fiancée! ‘I’m terribly sorry for bursting in like this, Mr Prince,’ she burbled, ‘I just needed some advice on this invoice, but it’s not important, I’ll come back later.’ She closed the door hurriedly and retreated to the front parlour to nibble her lip. Fiancée!
There was no sound coming from the back room now; at least Oriel could hear none of Violet’s whispered entreaties. ‘Come back to the sofa, Nat!’
Nat, looking troubled, took no notice. What must Oriel think of him?
‘Nat! Are you listening to me?’ Violet patted the leather sofa. Talbot wagged his tail and attempted to climb up beside her until she shoved him away.
Nat glanced at her now, voiced regret and came to take his place at her side. ‘Sorry for that intrusion, Violet. She never comes in here normally.’
‘You didn’t tell me your secretary was so pretty.’ Violet looked petulant.
Nat stared into thin air. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Then he looked at the woman beside him and turned on his rare charm. ‘Why would I bother looking at other women when I’ve such a beautiful fiancée?’
Violet giggled and fell into his embrace. When they drew breath, Nat rested his chin upon her shoulder and stared at the wall. What explanation would he give his daughter?
His fiancée drew back and caught his preoccupation. ‘I hope you’re not thinking about her?’
‘Who?’ He tried to appear cool.
‘You know who! I must say, she seems very assured to be a servant.’
‘Well, a secretary’s not really a servant – behave, Talbot!’ The dog was nibbling the base of his tail.
‘Of course it is! She works for you, doesn’t she?’ Violet decided to impose her authority. ‘She needs taking down a peg or two.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Nat’s alarmed eyes followed her to the door.
‘Sit there!’ She pushed him back, laughed, closed the door and went along the hall. Nat exchanged glances with the dog.
However, on her return she was not in the least amused. ‘Nat, you must speak to her!’ Her eyes burned with tears of outrage, her cheeks pink.
‘Why, what…?’ Nat rose in concern.
‘She used the most profane language!’
‘What, did she—?’
‘Don’t ask me to repeat it! I couldn’t possibly.’ Violet pulled out her handkerchief. The dog sighed and buried his nose under his tail.
Nat scowled, then reached for a paper and pencil. �
�Here, write it down.’
‘I can’t!’
‘Violet, I must get to the bottom of this.’ He brandished the pencil.
Hesitantly, she stooped over the paper and wrote, I’m damned if I’ll make your tea.
Nat felt the urge to explode with laughter, but managed to keep his expression serious. ‘Oh, you poor thing. I’ll go and have words with Miss Maguire!’ He marched from the room, shadowed by Talbot, but on closing the door he went not to the front of the house but to the kitchen where he put on the kettle himself. Before re-entering with the tea he said loudly enough for Violet’s benefit, ‘And let that be a lesson to you, Miss Maguire!’
‘Did you dismiss her?’ Violet looked satisfied that her order for tea had been carried out.
‘Oh, I couldn’t do that, dear.’ Nat looked softly reproachful as he handed over a cup. ‘Otherwise I’d have all that bookwork to do on my own. But she’s been told her wages’ll be docked for her rudeness.’ You needn’t think I’m going to risk losing my daughter over you, you silly little bitch. ‘Don’t worry, when we’re married you’ll have all the servants you want.’
An hour or so later Oriel heard Violet leave. After a short gap, Nat’s head appeared round the door. She assumed that he had come to issue reprimand for her show of disrespect to his affianced, but oddly he did not even mention it. ‘Are you busy, Oriel?’
Oriel gaped at him.
Realizing his gaffe, Nat was quick to apologize. ‘I’m sorry, I was forgetting myself, Miss Maguire!’
‘But… how did you know my Christian name?’ His secretary enjoyed a malicious tease.
‘Er…’ Nat shook his head, perplexed, ‘you must have told me. I’m sorry if I caused offence.’
‘I’m not offended in the least. You can call me Oriel if you wish.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t asked more about me. You haven’t even asked where I live. I could be a criminal, you know.’
Nat smiled too. ‘I can tell you’re not.’
‘How?’ In girlish fashion, she tossed her head. ‘You don’t know anything about me, do you?’
‘No, but I’m a good judge of character.’
‘Really?’ She watched his hands move up to grip the edges of his morning suit. His appearance had been given some attention since Violet’s departure. He was exceptionally clean-cut, not a hair out of place, his shirt collar starched and gleaming. ‘I must admit I was surprised that you didn’t ask me more questions at my initial interview. Aren’t you interested in my background?’ Did this sound too familiar for an employee? Oriel decided she didn’t care. He was obviously more afraid of her than she was of him.
‘Of course I am,’ replied Nat. ‘I just didn’t want to pry.’ He had made it his business to learn all he needed to know from his doctor friend. Noel had informed him that his help would be no longer required, for Bright had been allowed by the new owner of the house to remain at her present address in exchange for rent; this was being provided by Oriel who had got herself a job. Nat had smiled to himself but had not, of course, revealed the identity of her employer. For some reason Oriel had not mentioned his name to the doctor either, or Noel would have twigged immediately. He wondered if her mother knew. He looked at his daughter. As she was obviously inviting him to enquire further, he tried to think of something that an employer might ask. ‘Well now, how are you enjoying your job?’ Oriel said that she was enjoying it very much. ‘I must say you’re coping very well. I was worried I might be expecting you to do too much.’
‘On the contrary, I sometimes feel as though I’m not earning the very generous amount you pay me.’
Nat stilled her tongue. ‘Let me assure you, you’re worth every penny.’
‘That’s very kind of you to say so, though I still feel a bit of a shirker, as if I ought to register for war work, what with all the men gone to the Front.’
Nat did not like the inference that he was not doing his bit. His smile became fixed. ‘You’re not one o’ them there suffragettes are you?’
Oriel remained pleasant. ‘I’m not about to follow the example of some who make an exhibition of themselves, but I do believe women should have the vote.’
‘And what does your father think to your views?’ He knew it was rash the minute he had said it.
‘He’s dead.’ How blithely did the hurtful lie trip off her tongue.
Nat was in the act of lighting a cigarette but now turned his full attention on her.
‘You seem surprised.’ She looked him straight in the eye, feeling triumphant as he withdrew his gaze first.
‘No, I’m just sorry, I didn’t realize.’ Nat proceeded to light his cigarette.
‘Why, should you have done? Anyway, there’s nothing to be sorry about, I never knew him. He died a long time ago and he wasn’t a very nice man by all accounts. Apparently he deserted my mother when I was just a baby.’
‘She told you that?’ Nat drew so hard on the cigarette that its lighted tip glowed like a volcano, presenting a rather diabolical figure with his black hair, black suit, black tie.
His daughter was unflustered and sighed. ‘Yes, though I’d already witnessed her suffering for myself. He left her penniless, so I shouldn’t imagine he would care in the least whether or not women get the vote. I’m glad he’s dead and so is Mother.’
Nat tried to fathom those innocent eyes. There was something not quite right here…
But Oriel had left the subject. ‘I must apologize again for bursting in so rudely before. I hope your fiancée wasn’t too upset?’
The quiet dark man shook his head. ‘No harm done.’
Why doesn’t he mention my rudeness to her, thought Oriel, but asked instead, ‘May I enquire if you have set a date for the happy day?’
‘It’s…’ Still shaken, Nat underwent a period of thought. ‘About seven or eight weeks, I think.’
Oriel laughed. ‘You don’t seem too sure! I trust you’ll arrive at the church on the correct day.’
Nat assured her he had the date encircled on the calendar. ‘May I ask if there’s anyone in your life, Miss Maguire?’
‘Oh no, I’m far too young!’
‘Good, I’d hate to lose you – lose your very efficient services.’
Oriel thanked him and Nat left the room. She wondered whether to do it now, or wait until after he was married. To act now would mean that her quest for revenge was over and she could tell this wretched man exactly what she thought of him. But would this punishment be sufficient? Didn’t he deserve more for all the years of hurt he had inflicted? Oriel realized with a start that she had come to enjoy this game. In the hope of prolonging her own climax of revenge whilst causing maximum damage to her victim she decided to wait until after Nat’s wedding to drop her bombshell. Today or tomorrow, it would hardly matter. Either way, Miss Violet Ward’s reaction to the news that her beloved had an illegitimate daughter would be the same.
* * *
The war raged on, one atrocity followed by another. This week it was the sinking of an American passenger ship by a German torpedo. Oriel, greatly upset by this morning’s newspaper report, burst in upon her employer who was in the middle of a late breakfast. ‘What d’you think about the Lusitania?’ In the weeks that she had worked for him she had become increasingly familiar in her attitude.
‘Dreadful,’ replied Nat, with not exactly heartfelt emotion. He was more concerned with the drastic change in her appearance. The glossy black hair normally worn in a chignon had been mutilated into the kind of bob recently adopted by land and factory workers.
‘I’m sure you’d be more concerned if it were your fiancée on board! All those little children…’ Forgetting that she was in the presence of her enemy, Oriel allowed a tear to spring to her eye. Then, remembering where she was, she turned abruptly. ‘Well, I’d better get on with my work. So sorry to have interrupted your breakfast!’
Nat had witnessed the tear and became pensive as he chewed his bacon, ruminating on Oriel’s words.
What would he feel if Violet had been on that ship? Nothing. Nil. Zero. Where others might have found shame in this admittance he himself had long since dispensed with notions of honour – if he had ever possessed any at all. Violet was a nice girl but he would not cry if he lost her. Yet, if Oriel and her mother had been on that fated liner… it did not bear thinking about.
Nat finished his breakfast, washed his pots, then made to leave. Since she had come to work for him, he had made constant excuses in order to stay in the house with his daughter, but eventually he had been forced to acknowledge that the business would not run itself and, reassured that she was here for keeps, he had gradually moved back into his routine. However, before he left he always popped in to share a few words with Oriel and today’s offering was no different, save for its content. ‘I’m sorry if I upset you before. I didn’t mean to. It is a rotten shame about… you know.’
Oriel came to attention and looked around from her typewriter. ‘Yes, well, all the war’s a rotten shame, isn’t it?’ Whereas some would read of the tragedy and instantly forget, the image of those drowning people would mean days of depression for Oriel.
‘Your hair looks very nice by the way.’ He didn’t really like it.
Oriel gave a tight smile, and he consequently left the room.
There was much demolition work going on around the city, and the hoardings that bordered the sites were papered with recruitment posters. Nat ignored all requests that his country needed him as he moved around York on his wagon, thinking more of his early beginnings at the Industrial School which, to his grim satisfaction, was amongst those buildings to be razed.
His thoughts had moved on to his impending nuptials, when the honk of a car’s horn drew his attention and he looked around to see a grinning Noel about to overtake him. ‘By the heck, I was just thinking of you!’
Eyes shielded by goggles – he had a slight infection in one of them – Noel continued to drive his vehicle alongside the cart. ‘That’s why you look so miserable, is it?’
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