Nobody’s Darling

by Nobody’s Darling (retail) (epub)

  Ida’s buoyant mood was spoiled, and she suspected, quite wrongly this time, that her sister had done it on purpose to separate her from her father. ‘You will come up and say goodnight, won’t you?’ she asked. When he answered that he would, her bright smile returned and, after hugging him fondly, she went away satisfied.

  ‘Now then, Teresa. What is it that’s troubling you?’

  ‘Huh! Need you ask?’ She tossed her head indignantly.

  ‘Well, yes, my dear,’ he replied with immense patience, ‘I do need to ask, otherwise I won’t know what I’m supposed to be dealing with.’

  She seemed suddenly to realise that her brother was still in the room. ‘I would like him to leave,’ she said sulkily, stiffening when Luke merely smiled at her in that infuriating manner.

  Her father’s impatience deepened. ‘There is no time for that, Teresa. As I have just explained, your brother and I have an important business matter to discuss. Either say what’s on your mind now, or leave and we can talk about it tomorrow.’

  Seeing that he was irritable, she reluctantly told him, ‘It’s that old fool in the stables.’

  ‘Thomas, you mean?’ He knew exactly who she meant, because hadn’t she derided that harmless old man time and again? In fact, as she went on, he found to his dismay that he knew every word even before she spoke it, he had heard them so many times before. And so he listened while she predictably complained about how Thomas was growing senile and unreliable, how he took a particular delight in antagonising her.

  ‘He’s neglecting his duties, sleeping most of the time while his assistant does twice the work. It’s shameful, I tell you. Do we pay him to sleep? What’s more, he smells to high heaven. I shouldn’t think he ever uses soap and water. In fact, I don’t believe he’s washed at the pump in these many months.’

  Luke infuriated her by laughing and accusing in a meaningful voice, ‘And you should know.’ He stopped short of saying he had seen her watching from her bedroom window while Johnny Ackroyd strip-washed every night at that very pump. If their father ever suspected, he wouldn’t hesitate to send the young man packing and Luke would lose his hold over Teresa. That would never do. Not when there was still much sport to be had from this whole amusing business, before the arrogant Ackroyd was made to meet his downfall.

  ‘That’s a very unkind thing to say, my dear.’ This was a new one on her father, and he disliked hearing such a thing. ‘Thomas’s personal hygiene is really a matter for him only. I must admit, I haven’t noticed anything untoward.’

  ‘That apart, what do you intend doing about his neglect of his duties?’

  ‘What would you have me do?’

  ‘Get rid of him, of course!’

  ‘I see.’ He hadn’t realised how callous she could be. ‘You know Thomas has been in my employ for many years, and that he has no other home than what we provide?’

  ‘Then he must find another.’

  ‘Oh? And who would we put in his place?’

  ‘Why, his young assistant of course. That young man works long and hard, and his behaviour is highly commendable.’ She almost bit her tongue when those particular words came out, because she was still smarting from the way Johnny had let it be known that he was not interested in her. All the same, she believed that, once she got the old one out of the way, Johnny would be hers for the taking. ‘Give his work to young Mr Ackroyd and take on a new assistant,’ she suggested, and the belief that she was finally persuading her father brought a ready smile to her face.

  The smile, however, was quickly wiped off her face with her father’s grim reply. ‘You shame me, Teresa. But you have put your case, and now I must put mine. You are of course the eldest daughter, and as such are entitled to some say in this house. But I say Thomas stays. I have never found him lacking in his duties, and I have never seen him sleeping when he should be working. I spend the most time in his company, when he saddles my horse or takes me about in the carriage, or when he leans across my desk to collect his well-earned wages. And not once have I ever had occasion to wrinkle my nose at this smell you mention.’

  ‘Then you think I’m a liar?’ Her voice trembled and her hands shook with temper as she glared at him.

  ‘No, I do not say that.’ He too was angry, and was giving her no quarter. These constant complaints about a good man had gone on long enough, and it was time they were put a stop to. ‘What I’m saying is that you are sorely mistaken in your findings. Apart from which, I think you should bear in mind that Thomas has been a good and loyal servant to this household for many years… long before you were even born, my dear.’

  He let the implication sink in, before he went on, ‘As for young Mr Ackroyd, I do agree, he is a fine young man with a strong sense of duty, and it has been on my mind these past weeks to entrust him with more responsibility. Consequently he will be paid a considerably higher wage, which no doubt will be welcomed by his mother who, I’m given to understand, has a sickly daughter and a feckless husband to cope with. Also, you might be interested to learn that it was Thomas himself who put the young man’s name forward.’

  He drew himself to his full height and squared his shoulders, ‘No, my dear,’ he said determinedly, ‘Thomas will stay for as long as I think fit. And as yet, I see no reason to turn him out of his home. I doubt if I shall ever be called upon to do such a thing.’

  ‘Then in spite of my being the eldest daughter with a right to speak, my opinion counts for nothing in the end?’

  ‘That seems a little harsh, my dear. But, yes, on this occasion, it is my opinion that matters. Now, can we let that be an end to it?’

  She gave no answer. Instead, she turned stiffly on her heel and departed the room in a huff; going all the quicker when she heard Luke’s soft irritating laughter behind her.

  When the door was closed and the echo of her steps had died away, Oliver gestured for his son to be seated. ‘That a daughter of mine could be so unfeeling is beyond me!’ he sighed. Waiting until his son was seated in the brown leather chair to one side of the fireplace, he went to the dresser where he poured two brandies, a double one for himself and a smaller measure for his son. After all, bad habits were too easily formed. ‘You don’t believe I was too harsh on your sister, do you?’ he asked, handing the glass to Luke. ‘I’m afraid she did infuriate me though.’ He sank into the chair opposite. ‘Sadly, Teresa has always been able to bring out the worst in me.’ He sipped at the brandy, smacking his lips and sinking further down into the chair.

  Luke grinned foolishly, restless to be gone from there. ‘Teresa is her own worst enemy,’ he stated boldly, thinking she had not yet learned the art of true conniving. There were occasions when it was most unwise to speak your mind about certain matters. Often it was far wiser to say one thing and mean another. That way you deceived your enemies and gave yourself time to review the situation.

  ‘There are things she still has to learn,’ came the reply, and it appealed to Luke’s warped sense of humour because he had been thinking along those very same lines himself.

  ‘You said you had business to discuss?’ he asked. Teresa was a fool, and he had little time for fools.

  Oliver straightened himself in the chair and his mood changed. ‘Well, of course there are “end of week” matters we need to discuss. No doubt you have your report completed?’

  Luke smothered his feeling of anxiety. When his father gave him responsibility for safety measures at the Eanam foundry, it was understood that he must submit regular reports. So far he had managed to satisfy his father that everything was being taken care of. Indeed, he had the manager’s own reports to substantiate this. But he was playing a dangerous game, and was always made nervous when his father took the ‘end of week’ reports to read in the privacy of his own study. If it was ever made known that he and the manager were accounting for top grade materials, when in fact they used sub-standard… well, Luke dared not even think about the consequences. Outwardly he bristled with self-confidence, but inwardly he
shrank from his father’s gaze. He knew from experience that Oliver was no fool. That was why he had gone to great lengths in order to cover his tracks; even the supplier had no idea who was purchasing his goods. The entire plan had worked better than he had envisaged, and his private bank account was swelling by the minute. ‘Of course my report is ready,’ he said with disarming charm, ‘I’ve taken the liberty of placing it on your desk.’

  ‘Good!’ Oliver beamed at him, delighted that his son had responded so well to the responsibilities of management, and even exceeding his father’s highest expectations. ‘I have to admit that I had certain reservations about placing such a heavy burden on your shoulders.’

  ‘I know that, Father, and in view of my irresponsible behaviour in the past, I can’t blame you for being cautious.’ He gulped as he went on to voice the daring thought that had been burning in his mind for a long time. ‘I do believe I’m ready to take on a great deal more authority.’ There! It was said, and he was shockingly pleased with himself.

  Oliver laughed out loud, ‘Do you indeed?’ He became quiet then, staring at his son through narrowed eyes, as though he was looking beneath the surface. Presently, he took a small gulp of brandy, smiled, and replied in a strong voice, ‘Not yet, son.’

  ‘But why not?’ Bitter disappointment showed in his face as he sat on the edge of his chair, silently pleading for his father to change his mind. ‘I’ve done as you asked. There isn’t a rusty nail or a shaky platform anywhere to be seen in the Eanam foundry. Even the men are saying they feel safer than they have for years,’ he lied. ‘I’ve done a good job, you can’t deny that.’ He felt cheated and bitter. He had so many plans, and besides, was beginning to enjoy a feeling of power.

  ‘Everything you say is true,’ Oliver admitted. ‘Your manager bears you out, and your reports are excellent. I have seen for myself how you’ve greatly improved the safety measures.’

  ‘Then why can’t I take on more responsibility?’

  ‘Oh, the day will come, I promise you. But not yet.’

  ‘But I’m your son! An Arnold. You just said yourself that I’ve proved myself to be capable?’

  ‘Indeed. But you’re still young, I think. Too young to be taking on an empire. As it is, you have virtually a free rein, and a workable budget, which you manage exceedingly well. The other premises are in good hands for the minute.’ He smiled benevolently, urging, ‘Be patient, son.’ He saw the disappointment in Luke’s face, but it did not change his mind. The safety of his men was too important an issue for him to let his heart rule his head. For the moment Luke had quite enough responsibility. Later of course he would be given more, but slowly, and cautiously. ‘Don’t be disheartened. Your time will come soon enough.’

  ‘You don’t trust me!’

  ‘It isn’t altogether a question of trust.’

  ‘Then what is it? Are you punishing me?’

  ‘For what?’ He thought that a very strange thing for Luke to say.

  ‘For all the years you say I shamed you.’

  Oliver bent his head. Even now it hurt to think of the way his son had deliberately gone out of his way to bring this family into disrepute. But he tried so hard not to think about those times, and it hurt for Luke to mention them now. ‘That’s a cruel thing to say. And, no, I’m not punishing you. You forget, I have already given you the opportunity to redeem yourself, and of course you have done so. But I still can’t turn over any more responsibility to you, not for a while at least.’

  ‘But I don’t see your argument.’

  ‘There is no argument.’ Oliver had a certain way of smiling which effectively brought a discussion to an end. He was smiling in that manner now. ‘I have something to show you,’ he said with a brighter face. He reached inside his waistcoat pocket and produced a small white envelope which he handed to his son. ‘I think you’ll find it interesting.’

  Grudgingly, Luke opened the envelope and drew out a stiff white card which he read with increasing surprise. It was an invitation in the most beautiful handwriting:

  Mr Jeffrey Banks and his daughter, Cicely, would be pleased to receive you and your son at Billenge House on Christmas Eve

  The festivities will begin at 8 p.m.

  Replies, please, to Miss Cicely Banks,

  Billenge House,

  Billenge End Road,

  BLACKBURN,

  Lancs.

  Luke was astonished. ‘I can’t believe it!’ he gasped. ‘The man must be mad… inviting an enemy to his table.’

  ‘And what makes you think I’m his enemy?’

  ‘Huh! What else would you be, when you’ve been trying for years to prise his foundry away from him?’

  ‘It’s true I would dearly love to buy Banks’s foundry,’ Oliver freely admitted.

  ‘There you are then.’

  ‘But I haven’t been trying to steal it. Nor have I employed underhand methods by which I might acquire it. Any offers I’ve made to Jeffrey Banks have been all above board. And very generous too, I might add.’

  ‘You haven’t got it though, have you?’ Luke said with a cunning expression. ‘For all your “above board’’ dealings, and “generous offers”, you still haven’t got it.’

  ‘No, I haven’t got it.’

  ‘So you’ll go on as before?’ Luke found himself being drawn into the fray, and strangely enough he liked it. At the back of his devious mind, a plan was taking shape. ‘You’ll go on making “generous” offers and being turned down, until one or the other of you tires?’

  Oliver was delighted to see his son showing such interest. ‘What else would you have me do?’ he teased with a wry little smile, thinking the young man still had a great deal to learn about business matters.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He must be careful here. ‘But you would really love to have that foundry, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘It has been an ambition of mine for too long now.’ A curious thing occurred to him then, and the words tasted bitter in Oliver’s mouth as he asked, ‘You’re surely not suggesting that I should have been less than honourable in my dealings with Jeffrey Banks?’

  ‘Good heavens, no!’ Luke sounded suitably horrified.

  ‘I’m glad to hear that. And you might be glad to learn that at long last I have come to a decision about the Banks’s foundry.’

  ‘What kind of decision?’

  ‘That he will never part with it. And that I will make no more offers.’ By the look on his son’s face, he knew this had come as a shock.

  You’re letting him win?’ Luke had never before seen his father the loser, and along with astonishment came a feeling of pleasure. He had been convinced that tonight his father would trust him enough to grant everything he asked – which to his mind wasn’t too much, merely to be in charge of all safety measures in each of the Arnold establishments. With that kind of free hand, and the budget allocated, he saw himself becoming immensely wealthy in a very short time.

  It wasn’t altogether the money, though. It was the rush of power that excited him, and even more than that, the idea that he would be out-manoeuvring his own father, the same father who was so revered in the business world, the same father who had been ashamed of his son, the same father who tired of sending him to school where he might yet again be expelled, and who had instead shamed his only son by keeping him at home and including him in instruction classes with his two younger sisters. Luke had never forgotten the humiliation, nor the way in which the tutor took malicious enjoyment in drawing him out and making an example of him. During that time a deep hatred had grown inside the boy, and it was there now in the man, a deep dark hatred that never went away. Hatred for his father. Hatred for everything that was good. A consuming hatred that dictated his every move. ‘Will you go… to this party?’ he asked, something deliciously wicked spiralling up inside him.

  ‘First, I do not look on my decision to stop pestering Jeffrey Banks for his foundry, as “letting him win’’. It was never a fight, only a business proposition.
As for attending the party? What do you think?’

  Luke dropped his gaze to the carpet, pretending to give it careful consideration. He thought about the wording on the invitation. Jeffrey Banks and his daughter, Cicely… Replies please to Cicely Banks. Luke remembered the one occasion when he had gone to a certain business function with his father. Jeffrey Banks was there, and so was his daughter. He hadn’t received a strong impression of her, because he was restless to get away. Now, though, it occurred to him that she must have considerable influence on her father or he most certainly would not have taken her to a business function. Perhaps he had even signed part of the foundry into her name? After all, she was an only child.

  My! That was a thought. A woman owning property; perhaps even having a say in the running of a business. But no, that could never be. All the same, her father clearly doted on her, and that could bode well for a certain little plan that had blossomed even while his father was speaking. In his mind’s eye he could see Cicely as she had been those twelve months ago, not a handsome young woman by any stretch of the imagination. If he remembered rightly, she was too thin, too fair, not to his taste at all. But then, she did appear to be a soft and trusting soul, and that was certainly to his taste. ‘I think you should go,’ he said in answer to his father’s pointed question.

  Oliver was amused. ‘You do?’

  ‘Well, he’s asked you, hasn’t he? So it follows that he bears you no grudges,’ Luke said cunningly.

  His father was pleased. ‘My sentiments exactly,’ he confirmed proudly. ‘I have already accepted the invitation. It’s a pleasure to be civilised about these things.’

  Another small brandy and a short discussion about trade in general, before Oliver Arnold dismissed his son. ‘Trust me,’ he said, seeing him out of the drawing room, ‘I do know best, and my judgement is usually sound.’

  Luke was too disappointed to offer an answer. Instead he curtly nodded his head and went, seething, out into the hallway, where he almost collided with the wretched girl who was hurrying towards the drawing-room with the master’s late night toddy. Ooh! I’m sorry, sir,’ she stuttered, staring up at him with fearful eyes. When he bade her to, ‘Take that in, you little fool, then summon Thomas to deliver himself and the carriage to the front entrance,’ she began trembling and nodding her head feverishly. ‘Be quick then!’ he ordered, and she went on nodding her head until he sighed noisily and strode away, muttering ‘Dolts and idiots everywhere!’