Rachel Lindsay - Moonlight and Magic
Jane Berry was, in looks, the image of Janey Belton, the famous and glamorous heiress. For certain reasons, Jane agreed to "double" for the other girl on a luxury cruise of the Mediterranean. Little did she foresee the complications that would cause.
CHAPTER ONE
Jane Berry switched the telephone from one ear to the other and ran a hand through her blonde hair. 'Honestly,' she groaned, 'you'd think I was trying to speak to the Dalai Lama!'
Maggie Simpson glanced up from her typewriter. 'Give it up,' she advised. 'Dinky Howard's got no time for the press.'
'Except when he needs us. If I—' Jane broke off as a voice sounded in her ear. 'Mr. Howard, this is Jane Berry of the Morning Star. I wonder if I could see you for a few minutes? Our readers are interested in the cruise you're organizing and… But, Mr. Howard, the Star would never—'
Her words were cut short by a sharp click at the other end, and with a grimace she banged down the receiver.
Maggie laughed. 'And another scoop bites the dust! You should know the great Mr. Howard never gives interviews.'
'That's just what he told me - only less politely. "Tell your editor my friends have no wish to see their names in his scandal sheet!"' Angrily Jane picked up a sheet of paper. 'Just look at the passenger list. Lord and Lady Waterton, the Duchess of Melford,David Pickton…'Her eye travelled down the names. 'Film stars, racehorse owners, driving aces - it's a gossip columnist's dream.'
'And a matchmaker's paradise,' Maggie retorted. 'Any millionaire who goes on one of Dinky's cruises can be certain of one thing - no girl he meets there will be after his money, because she'll already be loaded!'
Jane sighed. 'What wouldn't I give for a chance to go on a cruise like that!'
'Since when were you a gold-digger?'
'I was talking as a reporter,' Jane said indignantly.
'A naive one, then. When you've met as many millionaires as I have you'll find them as dull as the boy next door - and considerably older!' Maggie skimmed through her typescript with a practised eye and then she looked up. 'Stop acting ruffled, Berry, I was only kidding you. You're lucky if you can remain naive in this business. Most of us get too hard-boiled.' She clipped her pages together and rang for the copy boy.
Jane watched, envying her efficiency. The older girl was every inch a newspaperwoman and a match for any male reporter on the Street. The copy boy came in for the typescript, and Maggie groped in a drawer of her desk and brought out soap and towel.
'Thank goodness I've finished on time. I'm going to a show and I daren't be late.'
She was half-way across the room when the door opened and Frank Preston, the Features Editor, came in. He looked at the towel in Maggie's hand and nodded. 'That's right, freshen yourself up. You're going to a party.'
'On the contrary. Bill's taking me to a show.'
'Bill was taking you. Sorry, Maggie, but Charlie's just phoned in. He's tied up at London Airport and can't make tonight's shindig at the Saville. Positively last appearance of Ruby Randall before retirement. We daren't miss it.'
Maggie's face puckered with annoyance. 'This'll make the third time I've stood Bill up this week!'
'He should know better than to date a newspaperwoman!' Frank shrugged. 'Take him with you, no one will object.'
'Except Bill. He loathes that sort of party.'
'Too bad! As a sociologist he should appreciate the opportunity for research.'
'You're a callous brute, Frank.'
'This is a newspaper we work for, not a monthly glossy!'
Jane watched the by-play in front of her, her amusement dissolving as she noticed Maggie's hands clenched at her sides.
'Couldn't I go instead?' she asked.
The Features Editor stared at her, and as she saw his doubt, Jane's stubborn streak came to the fore. 'It won't be the first reception I've covered,' she insisted.
He hesitated. 'How long have you been on the column?'
'Six months. And before that I was a year in the news room. I covered dozens of parties while I was there.'
'There's more to this one than meets the eye. We don't give a hoot for Ruby's retirement; what we're looking for are the undercurrents behind it'
'If you give me the briefing,' Jane said more confidently than she felt, 'I'm sure I can do it.'
'Okay then. Come and see me in five minutes and I'll have the files down for you to run through. As for you, Maggie, my advice is marry the guy. That way he'll have to stand for it.'
He took himself off and Maggie squeezed Jane's shoulder.
'If ever I take Frank's advice, you must be bridesmaid,' she said.
The Saville Hotel was near the Morning Star offices, and Jane, fresh from her briefing, decided to walk. Despite her outward air of confidence, eighteen months as a reporter had not quelled the nervous tingling at the base of her spine before each new assignment, and she was anxious to get the coming job formulated in her mind.
'No interviews,' the Features Editor counselled. 'Just sniff around for general atmosphere. And if you get taken for a guest, so much the better.'
This last was not difficult. With Maggie's type as most people's idea of a woman reporter, Jane's appearance made her profession difficult to guess - model, film star or working debutante being the three most likely occupations attributed to her. Delicate features added to the illusion of fragility, though a perceptive observer would have recognized stubbornness in the heart-shaped face and determination in the short straight nose and sensitive mouth. But most observers, being far from perceptive, saw only the pale skin and honey- gold hair and the unexpected beauty of vivid blue eyes.
The hall porter in the lobby of the Saville Hotel was no exception to this general reaction as he checked her press invitation.
'Reporter, are you, miss? Took you for one of the starlets!'
Jane smiled and walked into the Embassy Room where the reception was being held. Edging her way towards the bar, she was able to identify a number of faces. The 'fringe element", as they were known in the features room of the Morning Star, were to be seen at every social function, continually striving to catch the eye of the gossip columnists and find their name bracketed with the famous in the next day's editions.
Strategically positioned against a corner of the bar with a drink in her hand, Jane eavesdropped shamelessly as the tide of gossip eddied around her. Across the room she caught a glimpse of the tightly corseted figure of Ruby Randall, long time leading lady of musical comedy but now better known for her marital adventures. Her latest boy-friend was nowhere to be seen, but cigar-chewing Foster Dillon, director of Ace Films and number three in Ruby's hierarchy of husbands, was everywhere in evidence. Jane began mentally to compose her story.
'For heaven's sake, Glyn,' a girl's voice said behind her, 'if you can't hold your drink like a man, stick to ginger beer.'
Simultaneously there was a hiccough in Jane's ear and the young man in question lurched against her, sending the contents of her glass splashing down her dress.
'I say, old girl, can't - hie - tell you how - hie - sorry I am.' His face puckered with distress, and ineffectually he - began to dab Jane's skirt with his handkerchief.
'Can't you see you're making it worse?' The girl beside him, a pretty blonde in a pink dress, snatched the handkerchief from him, and staring at her Jane felt she had seen her somewhere before. 'I must apologize for Glyn,' the girl continued. 'One drink and he can't see straight!' She touched Jane's arm. 'I'm staying at this hotel, so why not come up to my room and I'll lend you something to change into.'
Before Jane could reply she found herself being propelled through the crowd towar
ds the exit, and a few moments later was whirring up in the lift to the quietness of the fifth floor. Down to the end of the corridor they went and entered a magnificently furnished bedroom filled with bowls of flowers.
Her reporter's eye took in the sable stole on the bed and the expensive luggage stacked by the wall before her companion flung open the wardrobe door and gestured towards the dresses hanging there.
'Take your pick,' she invited indifferently.
The wardrobe door was mirrored on the inside, and as Jane stepped forward, both girls were reflected in it. Jane caught her breath and the other laughed at her astonishment.
'I wondered how long it would be before you noticed.'
Jane swung round. "We could be sisters!'
'We could almost be twins.' The girl turned to the dressing-table and with deft fingers pulled her hair into the less sculptured style favoured by Jane. With the golden waves brushing softly against her shoulders, half her sophistication vanished and her resemblance to Jane increased even further. 'There we are; see what I mean?'
'It's uncanny,' Jane said.
'I know, and it's just what I'm looking for.' The girl sat on the bed. 'My name's Janey, incidentally. Janey Belton.'
'I'm Jane too. Jane Berry.'
'Even the name's the same! This is getting positively creepy.' Janey Belton leaned forward; the smile had left her face and there was a sadness in her expression that could not be ignored. 'You seem like an intelligent person. What brought you to that grisly party?'
'I'm a reporter.'
'I see! In that case, I'm sure you've heard of me.'
'Belton?' Jane's mind began to tick over. 'Wait a minute - d'you mean Belton's Bread?'
'Right first time. It's my father!'
Jane whistled softly. There was a Belton's bakery and restaurant in every city and town throughout the country. If this girl was Cedric Belton's daughter she must be heiress to millions. Fleetingly she wondered why a girl with undeniable beauty and money should have such an air of tristesse.
Janey swung her feet over the edge of the bed, her voice hard. 'And now you realize who I am, I suppose you're busy envying me?'
"Not at all, Miss Belton. Money is not synonymous with happiness in my life.'
'Thank goodness for that. At least it makes it easier for me to talk to you.' She hesitated momentarily. 'When that drink spilled over you downstairs it must have been an act of fate. Until it happened I'd not noticed you, but once I did - and I saw how alike we were - I knew that you were the answer to my prayer. You're the one person who can help me.'
Jane's curiosity was aroused and she moved away from the wardrobe, all thought of putting on a model dress forgotten in the excitement of a possible story. 'If you could begin at the beginning,' she suggested, 'I might be able to follow you. What's it all about?'
'What do you think?' Janey Belton was defiant. 'A man, of course.'
'Oh!' For some reason Jane had not been prepared for the obvious.
'You sound disappointed.' Janey stared down at her hands. 'I'm not surprised, though - it's a pretty banal story. His name is Ted Wills and I love him desperately.'
'Doesn't he love you?'
'Not according to my father. He says he's only after my money, and Dad's told me that so often I'm even beginning to believe it myself.' She laughed harshly. 'Oh, Ted loves me all right, but Dad thinks he's a fortune-hunter and won't let us get married.'
'How old is Ted?'
'Twenty-six. He's an engineer and he's just opened a garage in Middleford - where we live. Everything he's saved has gone into the garage and he's broke to the wide.' Now that Janey had started to talk, the words came out in a rush. 'We met when I took my car to him after I'd had an accident. I didn't want Dad to know about it, he's always on to me about driving too fast, and if I'd taken it to our usual place he'd have found out.
'Anyway, Ted fixed it up for me and let me pay the bill in instalments. I know I'm an heiress, but Dad never gives me money. He likes to pay everything - it's the only way he can keep control over everyone.'
A picture of Cedric Belton flashed into Jane's mind: he looked exactly the sort of man his daughter had described.
'But what's wrong with Ted?' she asked. 'I mean, you've got more than enough money, so why should your father object to him so strongly?'
'Because he didn't go to a public school and he hasn't got a title. "Not our style at all, Janey luv. I want better than that for my little girl…!" Wonderful, isn't it?' she added bitterly. 'Dad's a self-made man and has always professed to be proud of it.'
'It's often those sort of people who are the worst snobs,' Jane put in. 'If you're so much in love, why not just run away?'
'Ted won't agree to it without my father's consent.'
Although Jane considered this to be an unnecessarily idealistic oudook, she forbore to say so.
'Well then, what's wrong in waiting for a while?'
'Waiting?' It was a cry of outrage. 'You can't ever have been in love to say such a thing! Anyway, even I was prepared to wait, Dad isn't. He's already got some witless sprig of the nobility lined up for me.? Tears trickled down her face and she brushed them away. 'I'm making a fool of myself. I'm sorry.'
'There's no need to cry. No one can make you marry someone if you don't want to.'
'You don't know my father.' The younger girl's voice was frightened. When anything stands in his way he can be ruthless. How many litde men do you think have gone to the wall since he began to build up Belton's Bakeries? Suppose he decides to break Ted too?'
Jane did not reply, and unconsciously found herself looking round the hotel bedroom with its evidence of wealth. 'Could you be happy with a poor man?' she asked bluntly.
'If the man were Ted - yes. I'd rather marry him and have to scrub floors than marry some rich idiot.' The large eyes filled with tears. 'I hate to think what'd happen to me if I married a man I wasn't in love with. Can't you just see me in ten years? A gay divorcee with a series of boy-friends! Oh, Jane, I don't want to become that sort of person.'
'There's no reason why you should.'
'That's easy to say. I wouldn't want to live without Ted, and Dad won't even let us see each other. That's why I'm in London now - he's sending me on Dinky Howard's cruise. He says it'll help me to forget Ted.' She squeezed her hands together. 'The minute I'm away he'll try and persuade Ted to leave the country. He'll tell him it'll be for my good if he goes away.'
Jane frowned. 'I still don't see how I can help.'
'Don't you?' Janey looked at her with bright, alert eyes. 'Suppose you went on the cruise in my place? Nobody on the ship has met me, and if they do happen to have seen my picture, you're sufficiently like me to get away with it.'
'But I couldn't!'
'Why not? You wouldn't be doing anything criminal and you'd be getting a wonderful holiday into the bargain.'
Janey stood up and came closer. 'Why, Dinky's cruise is the most sought-after thing in the world.'
Jane's mind worked furiously. Mention of Dinky's name made her realize the significance of her position if she accepted this offer. Dinky Howard was doing everything in his power to keep the press out; what a scoop if she could go on board as a guest, if she could mingle with the socialites who were paying a fortune to have the reporters kept at bay!
Yet even though she saw the importance of the chance offered her, she was reluctant to accept it. To gain admittance to the ship for a few hours by a clever piece of acting was one thing; to pose for weeks on end as a different person, and use that pose in order to spy, was another.
'I don't feel I could do it,' she said slowly. 'And anyway, it wouldn't help to make your father change his mind.'
'At least I'd be here to make sure he doesn't send Ted away. I've a cousin in London and she knows Ted and likes him. I can stay with her until the cruise ends.' The younger girl clutched Jane's arm, her body trembling, tears pouring down her cheeks. 'You're my only hope. If you refuse me I won't have anything left to live fo
r!'
'Don't say a thing like that!' Jane said sharply.
'But it's true. If Dad parts me from Ted I'll - I'll—'
The rest of Janey Belton's words were muffled by tears, and she flung herself on the bed, weeping. Jane watched in silence until she could bear it no longer.
'Please don't cry. If you really think it will help you then I'll - then I'll take your place.'
'Oh, you angel!' Janey was transfigured. 'I'll never be able to thank you enough.' She danced across to the dressing-table and began to repair her make-up. 'You'll have a wonderful time. The chance of going on a cruise like this doesn't come every day.'
'It certainly doesn't. I'd better be straight with you, Janey. If I go, it'll be as a reporter.'
The other laughed happily. 'I don't give a damn about that, so long as you go instead of me.'
Jane quelled her irritation. Despite her sympathy for the young heiress she could not help thinking her one of the most self-centred girls she had ever met.
'You might not give a damn, but what about the other guests? They might not object to giving a few interviews to the press, but they'd have a fit if they knew a reporter was watching them all the time.'
'Why are you telling me this?'
'Because it's only fair that you should know the score. From Mr. Howard's point of view I'm the worst possible choice.'
'Dinky Howard can look out for himself; he always has done.'
'Have you ever met him?'
'I told you. I've met no one at all who'll be on the cruise.' A giggle escaped her. 'Not even Lord Rupert Copinger.'
'Who's he?'
'The younger son of the Marquess of Dalcrosse.' Janey swept a mocking curtsey. 'The suitor Dad's got earmarked for me!'
'That's going to make it awkward, isn't it?'
'I don't see why. We've never met, and if he falls for you, you're welcome to him. His love mightn't last once he finds out who you are, so you'd better not fall for him!' Janey seized her shoulders and whirled her about the room. 'If you only knew how happy you've made me.'
'Take it easy,' Jane warned. 'Nothing's settled till I've spoken to my editor.'
Rachel Lindsay - Moonlight and Magic Page 1