by Betty Neels
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 Véronique, and boeuf en croûte. 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 all 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 firm 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!’
‘All 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 boy-friend’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.
Alexander stood there, quite out of place in his beautifully tailored topcoat. He said through his teeth, ‘Well, I’m damned! I’ve torn Oxford apart looking for you.’
‘Why?’ asked Jemima baldly.
‘Because that’s where you’re supposed to be. Only by the merest chance did Belling remember that one of the maids thought she’d seen you here. I’ve been a fool, I should have come here straight away.’ He frowned at her. ‘I didn’t know you were lying,’ he added evenly.
She had nothing to say to this, but when the silence had gone on too long she asked in a small voice: ‘Did you want a paper?’
‘No,’ said Alexander. ‘I want you, Jemima. My brown mouse, my darling brown mouse of a girl.’
She looked at him with troubled eyes, although her heart sang. ‘But you can’t—you’ve got Gloria.’
He shook his head. ‘What makes you think that because I took her around I wanted to marry her? I don’t care two straws for the girl, never did. She was useful camouflage while I was doing my best to get you interested in me.’
‘You didn’t!’ squeaked Jemima indignantly. ‘You laughed at me, and when you weren’t doing that you ignored me.’
‘If I hadn’t done that I should have eaten you with a spoon.’
She laughed at that, and then shook her head. ‘But I saw Gloria last week; she said…’ She blushed as she remembered, and the Professor laughed suddenly and came round the counter.
‘Shall I guess?’ he asked softly. ‘Do you love me just a little, my dearest girl? I shall probably be a bad husband, but I shall love you all my life—indeed, I can think of nothing on this earth that I want to do more.’
He pushed aside a pile of Daily Mirrors and caught her close and kissed her; and when she started to say something, he kissed her again, even harder.
‘I’m taking you back to Aunt’s house, you can stay with her until we get married.’
‘Oh, but I can’t stay there, Lady Manderly wouldn’t like it.’
‘Yes, she will, she fancies you as a niece.’ He kissed her again. ‘And I fancy you as a wife, my darling.’
The doorbell went again and a large untidy man ambled in. ‘I’ll have the Sun.’ He looked without much interest upon the Professor, standing with Jemima locked in his arms.
‘Help yourself to anything you fancy, my dear chap,’ said the Professor largely.
When he had gone, Jemima said severely: ‘That won’t do at all, you know: he could have cleared the shop.’
‘How soon can we close this infernal place?’
‘Not until Shirley comes back from the dentist, and then I must explain and pack my things and…’
‘Let us take one thing at a time,’ declared Alexander. ‘We can sit here and get to know each other, for a start.’
‘How?’
‘Like this, my darling.’ And he bent to kiss her again.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0404-1
A DREAM CAME TRUE
Copyright © 1982 by Betty Neels.
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