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A Dream Come True

Page 17

by Betty Neels


  He didn't answer that, but said carelessly: 'I'll see you when you get back.'

  She watched him go; she wouldn't see him again, she would take care to be gone before then. She went on with her breakfast feeling utterly miserable, wondering what he and his aunt would have to say to each other.

  She would have been surprised.

  `We shall see you in London, Alexander.' Lady Manderly a majestic figure in bed despite her cold and a red nose. `I'm not sure what Jemima intends to do-she has several jobs lined up, I believe.'

  `She told you that too?' He was leaning over the end of the bed, smiling a little. `It's a nuisance, but I have to be away for several days, but I doubt if she leaves you immediately. In any case...' He talked for a few minutes and his aunt nodded in agreement.

  `You intend to marry her?'

  He was still smiling. `Oh, yes. I find I can't contemplate life without her.'

  `Does she know this?"

  'No-I've taken great care... She doesn't approve of me entirely, you see, and she might run away before I can change her mind for her.' He went round the bed and kissed her cheek. `Goodbye, aunt. I shall send Belling up just as soon as the trains are running again. That shouldn't be long now.'

  Jemima spent a busy morning, which was just as well because she had little time to think about her own problems. Pooley had to be visited, and since the doctor saw no reason why she shouldn't join Lady Manderly at the hotel, Jemima called a taxi, took her back, engaged a room and went along with her to see Lady Manderly. She left the two ladies together, thoughtfully ordered coffee for them, and went out into the town to buy the things her employer required.

  She liked the town. Its main street bustled with life despite the shocking weather. She worked through her list, had coffee in a pleasant small cafe, and went back to the hotel, to find Pooley happy once more, repacking Lady Manderly's cases, tut-tutting over the way the things had been folded, and making plans for borrowing an iron so that everything could be pressed.

  `So fortunate that it's my left arm in plaster,' she confided to Jemima as they had lunch together. `It hardly bothers me at all. My lady says you're leaving us, miss? When's that?"

  'I'm not sure,' said Jemima cautiously. `I haven't got a job yet, but I've three interviews lined up for when we get back. If you're going to be busy this afternoon, I'll take Coco for a walk and then go and sit with Lady Manderly. We can play cards or something.'

  The day passed, and the next. Lady Manderly, cossetted in bed, recovered rapidly. `I trust Belling will come shortly,' she observed to Jemima over tea in her room. 'I'm fit to travel and I'm told the trains are running again. Alexander saw no reason why we shouldn't go back to London at the first opportunity.' She cast a sharp eye upon Jemima. `He telephones me each evening.'

  `Then I expect Belling will be here tomorrow, Lady Manderly.' Jemima spoke calmly, but she couldn't stop the colour creeping into her cheeks at the mention of the Professor's name.

  Belling arrived that evening quite late. Lady Manderly had already gone to bed, but Jemima was in the hotel lounge reading and he came straight to her. `Nice to see you, miss,' he greeted her. `I've everything arranged for tomorrow morning, if that can be managed. I believe Professor Cator telephoned Lady Manderly earlier this evening, so she'll have had warning. You'll be in London before tomorrow night.'

  `How nice to see you too, Belling, and to have everything arranged. Have you a room? Shall I get one for you, and what about something to eat?"

  'A room's been booked for me, miss, and I had a meal before I came here.'

  `Then I think I'd better go to bed and pack my things. What time do we leave?'

  `Ten o'clock, miss.' He smiled at her. `I've arranged for a taxi to take us to the station, if you could manage to get my lady ready to leave.'

  `I will. I'll pop along and see Pooley now. Goodnight, Belling'

  The return to London went without a hitch. Jemima had been expecting delays, even a train missed because Lady Manderly couldn't be hurried, but the old lady proved herself quite amenable to being got up at an early hour and conveyed, with Belling, Pooley, and Jemima to sustain her, to the station. Jemima, subsiding into a corner of the compartment which had been booked for Lady Manderly's sole use, settled Coco on her knee and heaved a sigh of relief. Her companion's cold was still severe and since she dropped off to sleep very shortly after they left Fort William, Jemima had nothing to do but stare out of the window at the snow outside. But not for long-presently Belling, with a steward at his heels, came with coffee, and later they all went along to the dining car, where Pooley and Belling discreetly disappeared again, and Jemima, with Coco still in tow, shared a table with Lady Manderly, who, at her most amiable, kept up a steady flow of small talk. She dozed again during the afternoon, though, and woke refreshed, when tea was brought with Pooley and Belling trailing it to make sure that they had everything they required. Never had Jemima travelled four hundred and ninety-seven miles in such comfort, nor with such a heavy heart.

  Lady Manderly's car, with her usual chauffeur, met them at the station and they were driven away without delay, with Coco sitting on Jemima's knee. Belling and Pooley had taken the luggage and were borne away in a taxi.

  Lady Manderly was silent now and Jemima contented herself with looking out of the window and seeing the business of the lighted streets. She wasn't very sure of her whereabouts, and presently she frowned in puzzlement. They had reached the West End by now, but as far as she could see they weren't going to Lady Manderly's house. The car had turned away from its direction and was going north through Portland Place, to turn off into New Cavendish Street and thence into Welbeck Street and then to turn once more into a small quiet street lined with Georgian houses. Here they stopped and Lady Manderly said in satisfied tones: 'Ah, we are here. Get out, Jemima, and tell Lucas to come back for us in two hours' time.'

  Mystified, Jemima did as she was told and then, obedient to Lady Manderly's command, beat a genteel tattoo on the brass door knocker. Like many houses of that type, this one was tall and thin and rather secret, with discreetly curtained bay windows and a black-painted door with a fanlight over it.

  The door was opened almost at once by a very tall, very thin elderly man, who bowed slightly, greeted them with dignity and ushered them into a narrow hall, discreetly lighted, panelled in white-painted wood, and from which several doors led. They were barely inside when one of these doors opened and Professor Cator came out.

  'Ah, Aunt-so you're safely back in London. Mrs Clegg shall take you upstairs. Dinner will be in half an hour; we shall have ample time to have a drink beforehand. You know where the drawing-room is.' He had kissed her lightly on the cheek, now he smiled briefly at Jemima as an elderly woman came through a door at the end of the hall.

  `Good evening, my lady,' she said pleasantly, and added with a smile: `And you, miss,' and without further ado led the way up the curving staircase, to show Lady Manderly into a bedroom and then open the door next to it and wave Jemima inside. `The drawing-room is on the right of the stairs, miss,' she advised, and went away.

  Jemima sat down on the edge of the bed and took stock of the room. It gave her a chance to settle her pulse rate too; it had shot up at the sight of the Professor and her insides were gyrating. She forced herself to stop thinking of him and concentrated on her surroundings. They were charming-applewood and yew, chintz and a carpet to lose one's feet in. After a minute or two she got up and opened doors. A bathroom, so perfect it would be a pity to spoil its pristine freshness by taking a bath; a huge clothes cupboard, and another smaller one in which to put one's luggage, presumably. She washed her face and hands and did her hair, then sat down and did her face very carefully. It didn't make much difference, she decided, but at least she felt better.

  She was undecided about whether to knock on Lady Manderly's door when she was ready, but the sound of that lady's voice from somewhere below sent her downstairs. Mrs Clegg had said the door on the right; she opened it and went
inside.

  Lady Manderly was enthroned in a wing back chair by a cheerful fire and her nephew was sitting on the arm of a chair opposite her. He got up as Jemima put her head round the door and crossed the room to take the door handle from her and shut it. `Come and sit down,' he advised. `Will you have sherry or something else'

  Jemima sat. `Sherry, please,' she answered in a calm little voice, and once more took stock of her surroundings. The Professor lived in style, she saw that at once-lovely old furniture, a beautiful room with a high ceiling and pale walls hung with paintings. She accepted her glass and when he asked her politely if she had quite recovered from the stay at the lodge, answered him with equal politeness, while her ears were stretched for the sound of Gloria's voice. She would surely join them. The Professor was wearing a black tie, so he would be going out later, presumably with the girl. But there was no sign of her and she wasn't mentioned.

  Presently they went across the hall to a smaller room, panelled in yew wood, with a table and chairs to match and elaborate velvet curtains, at the window, and here the tall thin man, addressed as Clegg, served their dinner: lobster patties, served hot, sole Veronique, and boeuf en croute. Jemima blushed when she saw it and avoided the Professor's eye, although she was perfectly aware that he was looking at her. Mrs Clegg's own rich custard tart finished the meal before they went back to the drawing-room for their coffee. And alll the time the conversation had been airy nothings, with an occasional side tracking on Lady Manderly's part while she expounded an opinion at length.

  They didn't sit long over their coffee. Lady Manderly put down her cup and said: `We must be going, Alexander, and you will be wanting to go to this reception. You may telephone me in the morning before you leave.'

  He accompanied them to the street door, bade his aunt goodnight and then at the last minute, bent and kissed Jemima's cheek. She stared up at him, not knowing what to say and in the end saying nothing at all. She would have choked over `Goodbye' .

  It was well after nine o'clock by now. She saw Lady Manderly into her house, collected her case and started to walk down to the shop. She had written to Shirley asking her to expect them one day soon, although she wasn't sure when, and now all she longed for was her small room and her bed.

  Lady Manderly had bidden her goodnight without saying more, only to remind her to be prompt on the following morning. It seemed a bit of an anticlimax after the excitements of the last few days, but it served to get her feet back on to firmm ground once again. Tomorrow she would tell Lady Manderly she was leaving; she had already said so, and the old lady had understood quite clearly that Jemima was free to go once they returned to London.

  She saw the shop was closed, of course, but the lights were on in the flat above. Jemima rang the bell and Shirley came to let her in.

  `Hello, ducks,' she said warmly, `nice to see yer again. Yer room's ready. Want a bite ter eat? Mum's still up.'

  `Oh, Shirley, it's lovely to see you. No, I've had my supper, are you and Mrs Adams all right? It seems ages...'

  Shirley looked her over with a critical eye, standing in the middle of the shop floor. `I can't say ' as ' ow yer look any better for the change.' She picked up Jemima's case and started upstairs. "ad a rough time in Scotland, did yer?"

  'Well, yes, it was rather awful.' Jemima's voice made Shirley turn and look at her.

  `Tell us about it tomorrow, eh?"

  'Yes, I will. I've got to be at work by nine o'clock.'

  They said goodnight, and Mrs Adams poked her head round the kitchen door and called goodnight too.

  The room was poky and unlived-in, even with the little gas fire burning it seemed cold. Jemima unpacked and went to bed and cried herself to sleep.

  There was no chance to mention leaving to Lady Manderly until the afternoon. Jemima was kept busy answering letters and the telephone, writing cheques and accepting the invitations waiting for Lady Manderly, and when those were done, Coco had to be taken for her walk. They lunched together, but since Jemima had a notebook and pen by her plate and Lady Manderly rattled off directions like bullets from a gun, it was hardly a sociable meal.

  `I shall take a nap,' declared the old lady. `Take Coco out, Jemima, and be back at three o' clock.' She sailed from the room, but Jemima caught her up in the hall. `Lady Manderly, we agreed that I might leave as soon as we returned here. I should like to go tomorrow if I may.'

  Lady Manderly's cheeks went mauve. `Impossible! How am I to manage? I never heard such nonsense!'

  `A11 the same, that's what we agreed. I said I would go to Scotland with you provided I might leave when we returned here. I told you that I had several jobs to choose from...'

  Lady Manderly stood glowering at her. Alexander, bother the man, was in Vienna, of all places, for the next four days. She conjured up a smile. `Yes, of course, you're quite right, Jemima. Will you oblige me by staying for the remainder of this week?' And when she saw the stubborn look on Jemima's face: `Until the day after tomorrow?' After all, Alexander might be able to fly back a day or two earlier.

  Jemima hesitated. `Very well, Lady Manderly, until the day after tomorrow.'

  `And where will you go?' enquired Lady Manderly cunningly. Alexander would never forgive her if she didn't find out.

  `Oxford,' said Jemima instantly, because that was the place which came most readily to her mind. `My friends there are driving me up to an interview in the Midlands.'

  She hoped it sounded genuine-after all, she had mentioned a job in the Midlands. Lady Manderly seemed to think so, for she nodded briskly. `Well, take Coco out now and we'll get on with the letters when you return.'

  It was a busy afternoon. Jemima left at six o' clock, feeling tired and aimless. She would have liked to have gone straight to her room, but Mrs Adams and Shirley were waiting for her and she spent the evening regaling them with the story of her adventures in Scotland.

  She spent the next evening scanning the vacancies columns in the papers, but there was nothing at all. She paid her rent, explained that she had given up working for Lady Manderly, and told Mrs Adams that she would soon get another job and in the meantime could she stay on with her. It was Shirley who came to her room that evening and suggested that she might like to fill in a couple of weeks serving in the shop. `Mum wants ter see ' er sister at Southend-I'll look after the post office, but I'll need help. Mum says you can ' ave yer room rent-free and yer food if you'll do it.'

  'It'll give me a chance to pick and choose a new job,' said Jemima hopefully. `Yes, Shirley, I'll be glad to.'

  She bade Lady Manderly goodbye the next day, feeling mean. If it hadn't been for Alexander she would have stayed with her, but the sooner she cut him right out of her life the better, and this resolve was strengthened that afternoon as she took Coco for their last walk together. They were nearing the house when a car drew up alongside and Gloria's voice hailed her.

  `Hullo, Jemima-still toiling away, I see. You should be like me and get yourself a man.' She smiled with malice. `Though there's only one man you fancy, isn't there? Don't worry, I'm not jealous, I daresay he's brightened your dull life for a few weeks. It's better to have loved and lost, etc,' she laughed a gay little trill, and drove on, leaving Jemima shaking.

  Belling and Pooley and Cook seemed sorry to see her go, but Lady Manderly didn't seem to mind in the least. Her goodbye was casual in the extreme.

  Mrs Adams left the next morning and Jemima went to work in the shop. She quickly discovered that she didn't like it over-much; there was a lot of standing about and she wasn't quick enough handing out the right papers to the regular customers, but at least she had a bed and food, and a small hoard of money. She wrote cheerfully to Dick, being vague about a new job, and whenever she had a moment to spare, studied the vacancies. Of Lady Manderly there was no sign, of course. Although she lived close by, it was another world, markedly different from the one Jemima now lived in. She had given Lady Manderly the address of her friends in Oxford so that letters could be forwarded there,
and written off to them to explain, although there was really no need. There was no one to write to her; her friends had gradually ceased to correspond and Dick always sent his letters to the shop.

  The week went slowly by, the days long and tiring, for as well as the shop there were meals to get and the flat to keep tidy. Of course Shirley helped, but she had her boy-friend most evenings and if they went out, and they mostly did, Jemima filled her evenings with housework. It stopped her from thinking.

  They had decorated the shop with tinsel and paper chains, which somehow made it shabbier than ever, and the light had to be on almost all day now. The second week brought cold dark weather with it, and Jemima longed for Saturday to come. Mrs Adams would be back and, job or no job, she would take herself off for a few days-indeed, she would have to, as she learned that evening that Mrs Adams and Shirley were to spend Christmas with the boyfriend's family.

  On the Saturday she went down to the shop earlier than usual. Shirley had to go to the dentist and had closed the post office, leaving Jemima in charge. A steady stream of men on their way to work tramped in and out, their wet shoes leaving muddy marks all over the floor. Jemima put out more papers, and began to tidy the magazines. When the doorbell rang and the door was flung open she turned round sharply; the door wasn't all that strong on its hinges. Her mouth was open to say so, but not a word came out, although it stayed open in surprise.

 

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