Country Cousin

by Jacqueline Gilbert

  ‘What do you recommend?’ he asked at last.

  ‘I’d try the Spanish omelette, sir. It’s very good,’ suggested Eleanor, noticing that the dark grey suit and crisp blue shirt were spotted with rain, and a small puddle was forming on the floor from the large black umbrella which was hooked on to the back of the chair.

  ‘Very well, the omelette,’ agreed Edward, lifting his eyes from the menu for the first time, his gaze steady.

  Eleanor pressed her lips together to stop them trembling and escaped to the kitchen where Maisie, eyes sparkling, was eyeing him from the door.

  ‘Hey, Nell, he’s a smasher, isn’t he? Just take a look at the cut of that suit! What’s he doing here—slumming?’

  Eleanor managed a smile. ‘Maisie, we get all sorts in here, you know that. The food is good, quick and reasonable...’

  ‘The waitresses kind and beautiful!’

  ‘And word spreads around.’

  ‘Dearie, if word spread around to good-lookers like that more often—my faith in manhood would be drastically restored!’ Maisie said dramatically. ‘Imagine sitting opposite that every morning at the breakfast table! What a pity I didn’t take a better look when he came in, I'd have grabbed him like a shot and left you with the five Geordies.’

  They both knew that she had chosen the five Geordies to help Eleanor.

  ‘I say, Nell, are you sure you’re okay? You look dreadful. Don’t you think you ought to go home? I’ll ask Ken, he’ll let you go, we’re not busy.’

  Eleanor shook her head. ‘No, Maisie, there’s not much longer to do, and I’m all right, honestly.’

  The omelette was ready far too soon, and taking a deep breath she made her way back to table four—and Edward. He was reading the evening paper, folded into an oblong, which he put down on her arrival. She wiped the table before placing the dish before him.

  ‘Will you require a sweet, sir?’ she murmured politely.

  ‘If you sir me once more, Eleanor, I’ll give you something else to think about,’ Edward said softly. ‘No, I’ll have just coffee. I don’t suppose you can join me?’ He lifted a brow. ‘No ... very well.’

  Colour high, Eleanor returned to the kitchens and Maisie gave her an odd look.

  ‘You look as though he’s made you an improper suggestion!’ she joked.

  Eleanor hesitated and then said awkwardly: ‘Actually, Maisie, I know him.’

  ‘You do, do you? You’re a sly one.’ She looked thoughtfully at her and nodded. ‘I suppose I ought to have guessed. He’s your type.’ She peered round the door again. ‘He doesn’t look too hungry to me.’

  ‘I think he has other things on his mind at the moment,’ offered Eleanor rather bleakly.

  ‘Meaning you?’ and when Eleanor nodded, Maisie added casually: ‘Is he sweet on you?’

  Eleanor gave a short laugh. ‘Quite the reverse,’ she answered dryly. ‘I’m a complete nuisance to him. He didn’t know I’d got this job and he’s rather angry.’

  ‘I see. Has he walked in here, on the off-chance, and it’s come as a shock to him?’

  ‘It’s come as a shock to him, but he knew I was here—I could tell the minute he walked in. How he knew, I don’t know, but he’ll tell me, later.’

  ‘So that’s why you went as white as a sheet when he came in.’ Maisie frowned. ‘Let me take his coffee,’ she offered, and Eleanor nodded her agreement, and watched her go over to the table.

  ‘He has a lovely smile,’ said Maisie, on her return.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll see much of it tonight.’ Eleanor pushed a stray wisp of hair behind an ear.

  ‘What I can’t understand,’ said Maisie softly, ‘is why, if he’s not sweet on you, he’s bothered about what you do? It doesn’t make sense to me.’

  Eleanor shrugged, and tried to explain.

  ‘He feels responsible for me. I’ve told you, I’m a nuisance he can do without, but family ties make it impossible for him to ignore me.’

  She looked up at the clock. ‘Nearly closing time.’

  He walked by her side in silence. It had stopped raining and the roads and pavements were bright with the distorted reflections of light. Passing traffic hissed as their tyres hit the wetness. Holding her arm easily, but with an underlying forcefulness, Edward led Eleanor to a side street, where she saw the sleek, silver-grey Jensen parked in waiting. A flicker of wry amusement came to her as she thought how impressed Maisie would be with the car, and with the way she was now being handed into it. It didn’t mean a thing. Edward Mansel’s urbanity was as natural as breathing, but would good manners be enough to shield her from his so obvious anger? Once before she had felt the whiplash of his tongue when his emotions were barely controlled. The quick look she had given him as they left Luigi’s had not been reassuring.

  Edward drove quickly with his usual efficiency through the streets, finally pulling up on a quiet section of the embankment. He wound down his window and they could hear the muted sounds of the city, and nearer, a street cleaning lorry moved along on the opposite side, brushes whirling in the gutter, lights flashing. When it had passed, Edward said in a level voice:

  ‘Are you ready to tell me what this latest escapade is about?’ The question was not addressed directly to her. He lighted a cigarette, the flame illuminating his dark, lean face. Eleanor bit her lip. She had learned not to trust the outward languor of this man. Stalling for time, she leaned forward, concentrating on a rivulet of rainwater making its way down the windscreen, and asked hesitantly:

  ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘I had you followed.’

  She made an instinctive recoil from him, a shiver running down her back.

  ‘You ... had me ... followed?’ she stammered, shooting him a horrified look. Edward drew deeply on his cigarette and shrugged.

  ‘It’s quite simple if you know the right people.’

  She stared at him incredulously. In her mind’s eye she saw herself walking blithely to work, and looming in the background, a faceless person. How offensive the thought was! But not so amazing, for hadn’t she always been aware that coupled with his astuteness was a ruthlessness alien to her? It had been extremely silly of her to underestimate Edward Mansel.

  ‘The knowledge is distasteful to you?’ Edward’s voice cut through her thoughts. ‘It seemed the easiest way of gaining information. Would you have told me?’

  Eleanor flushed at his tone. ‘What made you ... have me followed?’ she asked, her voice low, fixing her eyes on the lights on the far side of the Thames.

  ‘A call came through from Hanley’s, the jewellers. I took it. They stated how sorry they were to have been so long in valuing your ring, but your address had been mislaid.’ He turned and looked at her for the first time since stopping the car.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I’m glad one of us does,’ he answered sarcastically. ‘Perhaps you will tell me why you find it necessary to sell your jewellery, Eleanor, and work in a cafe as a waitress?’

  ‘You needn’t use that tone of voice, Edward! Luigi’s may not be up to your high and mighty standards, but to ordinary, decent people it’s perfectly acceptable,’ flashed Eleanor angrily.

  ‘I quite realise that I do not constitute being ordinary or decent, I’m well aware of your opinion of me, Eleanor, but do not try and evade the issue. You haven’t answered my question.’ His voice was hard.

  ‘Because I need the money! That’s why people work, isn’t it? Even you, Edward! And now, will you please take me home, I’m rather tired.’

  ‘No, I will not take you home. We’re getting to the bottom of this, here and now. Why do you need the money?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s any of your business.’

  He smiled thinly. ‘I’ve already gathered that, Eleanor, but I’m making it my business. Apart from anything else, don’t you realise that it puts my parents in an impossible situation?’

  Eleanor lifted a shoulder disdainfully. ‘Oh, I see—you’re bothered about the look
of the thing!’

  ‘Continue in that way, my girl, and I’ll put you over my knee!’ promised Edward dangerously. ‘Whatever your personal opinion of us—and you’ve been quite happy to take our hospitality and use us to the best of your advantage—you are our responsibility! When you entertain a young girl as a guest, no matter how little time you spare her, it must come as rather a surprise to learn that she is not, as you had supposed, seeing something of the city and having an enjoyable holiday, but is, in fact, working all hours God sends serving people meals! Even you must realise that!’ he added scathingly.

  There was silence. Eleanor was numb with humiliation. She could see how it must appear to him, could understand his anger. She swallowed the tears threatening to overwhelm her, hoping that the darkness inside the Jensen was sufficient to hide her distress. Every word said so contemptuously was true. The fact that they had been thrown at her in such an unpalatable way made no difference. When she was able, she said in a low voice:

  ‘I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to insult your parents’ hospitality. They’re very kind. I thought they need never know. I couldn’t think of anything else to do.’ She broke off miserably. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Try me.’

  Eleanor hesitated, seeking the right words.

  ‘Don’t wrap it up,’ Edward carried on remorselessly. ‘Fancy words don’t obliterate the facts.’

  ‘Oh, by all means, let’s keep to the facts,’ Eleanor answered bitterly, ‘but sometimes the facts aren’t the whole story!’

  ‘No, but they’re the backbone. I’ll use my imagination for the rest.’

  She lifted a hand and rubbed her forehead, saying more calmly:

  ‘When Kate came to London she over-spent her allowance by eighty pounds. This was on her future mother-in-law’s account at Harrods and she was dreadfully upset, nearly hysterical. I promised to help her get the money.’ There was a long silence and Eleanor continued defensively: ‘She’s not usually like this. It’s a difficult time in a girl’s life. She’s vulnerable. It’s hard for you to understand, you’re strong and don’t care what people think of you, but for Kate, young and wanting to make a good impression, this one silly mistake could do untold damage.’

  ‘Why couldn’t she tell Slade?’

  Eleanor swallowed. ‘I ... don’t really know. I wanted her to, but ... she couldn’t.’

  ‘If the man’s in love with her, surely it was the most sensible thing to do?’

  ‘Probably it was.’

  ‘Probably? Don’t you think so?’

  ‘Yes! Yes, of course it was.’

  ‘We are agreed on something, then.’ He paused. ‘So little sister hands over all her troubles to big sister.’

  ‘What else could she do?’ answered Eleanor defensively.

  ‘I won’t have you sneering at Kate! How can you understand? Money can never have been a problem to you!’

  ‘Money, in one way or another, is always a problem,’ said Edward evenly. ‘Why didn’t you go to Eve?’

  Eleanor put her hands wearily to her eyes. ‘As you’ve pointed out, I was already indebted to your parents. I’m nothing to them, I couldn’t go to them.’

  ‘I disagree. You are far more to my mother than I think you realise. She’s not a demonstrative woman, but she’s very fond of you. I believe she sees your mother in you and it brings back happy memories.’

  ‘My mother?’ Eleanor’s voice wobbled dangerously.

  ‘You disagree?’

  She choked on a laugh. ‘If you saw photographs of her when she was young, so would you! She had a lovely face ... and still has.’

  His thumb tapped gently on the steering wheel. A couple passed, arms entwined, oblivious to everyone and everything but themselves. They stopped a few yards ahead and kissed, and then moved dreamily away until the darkness swallowed them.

  ‘Love’s young dream,’ murmured Edward cynically, reaching for the keys.

  ‘What are you going to do? Will you tell ... your parents? Can I carry on at Luigi’s?’ Eleanor asked hesitantly.

  His hand paused. ‘No, you cannot. I’ll give you the money tomorrow. You can go back to being a quiet little parson’s daughter seeing the sights of the big city—and try and keep out of any further trouble, if you can. And we’ll keep this just between ourselves.’

  Eleanor stared at him in amazement. ‘You’ll give me eighty pounds, just like that?’ Her voice rose incredulously. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I have it,’ said Edward repressively, starting the engine.

  ‘But how can I repay you?’ she asked helplessly. ‘Certainly not by serving meals.’ He shot her a sharp look. ‘You don’t feel like accepting the money from me?’ His eyes gleamed sardonically. ‘No, you don’t! Why not?’

  ‘Why not? Because ... well, you ... I...’ floundered Eleanor.

  ‘You don’t seem to know why not,’ he said silkily, ‘or maybe good manners make it impossible for you to enlighten me?’

  Eleanor, cheeks flushed, replied in a quivering voice:

  ‘It’s you that’s impossible! I don’t want to be beholden to you in any way whatsoever!’

  ‘That’s a pity,’ he drawled, engaging gear and driving smoothly away, ‘because Kate will—quite easily.’

  Eleanor was silenced, as he’d known she would be. With certainty, she knew that Kate would have no qualms about where the money came from, so long as it was paid.

  As the Jensen turned in the Crescent and halted outside the house, Edward said laconically:

  ‘Well?’ He studied the rebellious jut of her chin and amusement crept into his voice. ‘At least you couldn’t be accused of being a money-grabber, Eleanor.’

  ‘I should hope not!’ Eleanor turned on him indignantly. ‘Not to have to worry about money must be comforting, but I’d sooner be hard-up and happy than rich and miserable!’

  ‘I applaud your sentiments. Do you think you could be rich and happy?’ He paused. ‘I believe it has been proved possible.’

  ‘We’re getting away from the point,’ she told him coldly. ‘If I do take the money from you ... and I’ve no choice really, have I? ... then I only take it on the understanding that I pay you back.’

  ‘How do you propose doing that?’

  ‘I don’t know exactly. I’ll... find digs and then I won’t be your parents’ responsibility. I was going to have to find a job eventually, anyway...’

  Edward gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Eleanor. I thought the whole idea was to keep it from your parents? Leaving the Crescent would cause comment, it was agreed you’d stay indefinitely, until you decided what you were going to do. Can you really see my mother allowing you to five in some poky bed-sit? She’s very clever at getting her own way and would shoot down any arguments in flames.’

  ‘How shall I pay you back?’ repeated Eleanor stubbornly.

  ‘There is a way,’ Edward said slowly, looking at her, brows lowered. ‘You’ll have to come and work at the shop.’

  ‘But I know nothing about antiques!’

  ‘You can learn.’

  ‘You don’t need anyone else there, surely?’

  ‘It so happens that we do. We’ve been looking round for suitable premises for Van to start up on her own. These have now been found. It would be quite feasible to offer you to Mother, as her replacement.’

  ‘I see. I didn’t know that. Is Van pleased?’

  ‘My sister is rather a puzzle to me these days ... I think she is.’ He paused, thinking hard. ‘Yes, that’s the best idea.’

  ‘You don’t seem very enthusiastic,’ Eleanor was goaded, into saying, stung by his tone.

  ‘I’m not. I don’t want you there—it only adds to complications.’

  ‘I don’t see why,’ she argued, voice small, absurdly hurt. ‘I’m a good worker.’

  ‘I’m sure you are, my dear Eleanor, and you wouldn’t see the complications even if they were stuck under your nose,’ Edward said dryly. ‘But it’s
the obvious solution. I can’t trust you not to go looking for another job and my mother will accept you helping us out.’

  Eleanor suddenly realised how naive she was. Of course he didn’t want her working there! He lived over the shop and liked his privacy.

  ‘Just don’t forget that I’m the boss.’ His voice broke her thoughts.

  ‘I don’t think you’ll allow me to do that, Edward!’ She sighed and continued hesitantly: ‘Look, I am grateful, truly. I know I haven’t sounded it, but...’

  ‘I don’t want your thanks, Eleanor,’ Edward cut in evenly, ‘we’ll take them as given.’ He gave her deep scrutiny and his voice, though not unkind, was unyielding. ‘Now, is there anything more? Let’s have everything cleared up. You haven’t been doing anything else I ought to know about?’

  Eleanor stared doggedly through the windscreen. He had every right to demand his pound of flesh. It had started to rain again, she noticed absently, and the street lamps cast small pyramids of shimmering light, making a regular pattern along the pavement ahead.

  ‘Well?’ demanded Edward. ‘I don’t want you coming to me another day saying, I think I ought to have told you, Edward! If there is something more, tell me now. If not, if there’s no more Ferrers family skeletons in the cupboard, we can go in.’

  Eleanor sighed deeply. ‘I expect you’re fed up with us, one way or another,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Kate and me.’

  There was a pause and then Edward said smoothly: ‘I think I’ll be able to survive.’

  Eleanor sighed again. ‘And now I’m afraid there’s Dodie.’

  He stirred in his seat. ‘Dodie?’