Five Windows

by D. E. Stevenson

  “ It’s just as you like, of course,” said Mr. Randall. “ If you’d rather he published The Inward Eye first we can hold him to his contract.”

  “ You arrange it,” I told him. “ Do as you think best.” The fact was I did not care.

  Mr. Randall looked at me in surprise. “ You’ve been working too hard,” he said.

  “ I haven’t been working at all,” I replied. “ The new book has stuck. I don’t feel like writing.”

  “ Why don’t you go abroad as I suggested? ”

  “ Perhaps I will … later,” I said doubtfully.

  “ Go soon, Mr. Kirke. Take a sea voyage, or fly to Spain. Do anything you like as long as it takes you away from your present surroundings. Perhaps you think it’s none of my business, but we can’t have you getting stale. It’s like this, you see: you’re just beginning your career as a writer and you ought to keep going, you can’t afford to rest upon your oars. If you go away to a new place it will buck you up and you’ll feel like a different man; you’ll find plenty to write about.”

  It was good of him to take an interest in me and what he said was perfectly true; I knew I ought to go away and find fresh material … but it all depended on Jan. How could I go away now and leave everything unsettled?

  “ Oh, by the way,” said Mr. Randall as I rose to go. “ I’m afraid I’ve been a little unkind to a friend of yours.”

  I looked at him questioningly.

  “ Mr. Blackworth,” explained Mr. Randall. “ He said you had advised him to consult me about—er——”

  “ Ralph’s Progress,” I said.

  “ That was it—Ralph’s Progress. Well, I’m afraid it’s hopeless. There’s no other word for it. Unfortunately he wouldn’t take a hint and I was obliged to tell him plainly that he couldn’t write. He was rather—rather upset but it was no good beating about the bush, especially as he seemed anxious to make a financial success of his writing.”

  I saw that Mr. Randall was trying to hide a smile and I wondered if Miles had told him that the manuscript represented twenty-three solid hours of work.

  “ It’s very strange,” I said. “ I can’t understand it. Miles Blackworth is intelligent——”

  “ He may be intelligent but he can’t write for toffee,” said Mr. Randall and the smile he had been trying to hide spread across his face. “ To be honest, Ralph’s Progress is the funniest thing I’ve read for a long time; but unfortunately no publisher would touch it with a barge pole. It’s a pity, but there it is. As a matter of fact I was sorry for the young man; he was so optimistic about his writing and so—so deflated when I had finished with him. I felt a brute.”

  “ I wonder what he’ll do,” I said with some anxiety.

  “ I don’t know,” replied Mr. Randall. “ As a matter of fact I told him about a job. I know a man who runs a chain store and has branches in various parts of London; he wants a secretary, someone who can drive a car and type his letters and so on. Mr. Blackworth seemed to think it was not the sort of job that would suit him, but he took the address so he may change his mind about it.”

  “ It was very good of you,” I said.

  “ Not at all,” declared Mr. Randall.

  All the way home I thought about Miles and wondered whether he would take the job and if not what he would do … and I wondered whether he would forgive me for my plain speaking about Ralph. I had a feeling that he would. Nothing bothered Miles for long; perhaps already he had chucked Ralph into the fire and set his heart on something entirely different—something much better, something that would make his fortune.

  Mr. Coe was putting up his shutters when I got back to the shop. He came down the ladder to speak to me.

  “ Look here, David,” he said. “ I believe I’ve gone and put my foot in it, but it isn’t my fault. I couldn’t help it.”

  “ What’s happened? ” I asked in surprise.

  “ It’s a girl,” said Mr. Coe, lowering his voice confidentially. “ She came into the shop and asked for you. I tried to get rid of her but it was no use, she wouldn’t go away. She said she knew you lived here and she intended to see you—very masterful, she was.”

  “ A girl! Where is she? What did you do with her? ”

  “ Couldn’t do anything with her,” he replied ruefully. “ She nipped past me like a flash and up the stairs before you could say Jack Robinson. I couldn’t leave the shop and go after her, could I, David? I suppose she’s waiting for you on the stairs; she hasn’t come down—that’s all I know about it.”

  “ What was she like? ”

  “ Nice looking,” admitted Mr. Coe. “ Not like that painted hussy that came here before, when Mrs. Kirke was here.”

  It was Jan, of course. Who else could it be? I rushed through the shop and up the stairs like a madman. But my visitor was not Jan after all. My visitor was Barbie.

  Barbie had spread a newspaper on the top step of the stairs and was sitting on it, smoking a cigarette. She looked quite peaceful; as if she had been sitting there for some time and was prepared to sit there indefinitely.

  “ Hallo, David! ” she said, smiling cheerfully.

  “ Is Jan all right? ” I gasped.

  “ Perfectly well.”

  “ Good,” I said. I leant against the wall and panted. It was no joke running up all those stairs.

  “ That’s a funny little man,” said Barbie in conversational tones. “ First he said you didn’t live here—but of course I knew you did—and then he said you didn’t like unexpected visitors, especially girls. Don’t you, David? ”

  “ Not awfully,” I said. “ But of course you’re different. Come in, Barbie.”

  She rose at once and we went in together; fortunately I had left the room quite tidy.

  “ Girls? ” said Barbie, looking at me thoughtfully. “ Do you have to pay that funny little man to keep them off? ”

  I laughed. “ No, of course not. Sit down, Barbie. That’s the most comfortable chair.”

  She sat down and I took out the sherry and gave her a glass.

  There was a little silence and then she said, “ I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve come.”

  “ I’m glad you’ve come,” I told her—and so I was. I liked Barbie and it was very pleasant to see her sitting there in my chair looking so comfortable and friendly.

  “ It’s about Jan. You know, David, I’m terribly fond of Jan and I can’t bear her to be unhappy.”

  “ Is she unhappy? ”

  “ Yes, I’m afraid she is.”

  “ Barbie,” I said. “ I’ve been an awful fool.”

  She nodded.

  “ I’m kicking myself,” I told her. “ I’ve mismanaged everything. I’ve been trying to think what on earth to do.”

  “ We might—talk about it,” Barbie suggested. “ As a matter of fact that’s why I came. Things sometimes get straightened out if you talk about them.”

  I was only too willing to talk. “ It’s like this,” I said. “ I’ve loved Jan for ages but it was only on Sunday that I realised I loved her. Quite suddenly I knew. I tried to think what to do about it—how to begin, if you know what I mean—and I thought of flowers. I bought a lot of flowers for her.”

  “ You did,” agreed Barbie. Her lips trembled and suddenly she was chuckling. “ Oh, David, you did! It was—too many—for a beginning.”

  “ I know. I went a bit mad. When I got into the shop and saw those flowers I wanted them all for Jan. That was the trouble.”

  Barbie was laughing so much that she could not speak, and her laughter was the chuckling, gurgling, infectious laughter of the plump. I had to laugh too, though I was not feeling particularly cheerful.

  “ Jan liked the flowers,” I continued. “ She liked them so much, and she was so—so adorable that I lost my head. In fact we both lost our heads and everything was marvellous. It was absolutely marvellous until suddenly something went wrong and I didn’t know how to put it right.”

  “ Jan began to think,” said Ba
rbie, nodding. “ It was all right until she began to think.”

  “ She said there were all sorts of reasons.”

  “ I can tell you one reason,” Barbie said. “ One reason is that Jan has loved you ever since she was a tiny child and you used to play with her. You were her hero, David.”

  “ But Barbie——”

  “ Oh, I daresay you don’t think that’s a ‘ reason,’ but just try to look at it from her side. Jan has always loved you, and you’ve only loved her since Sunday.”

  I was so amazed that I was speechless.

  “ Of course I shouldn’t have told you,” continued Barbie. “ It’s a breach of confidence … though as a matter of fact Jan never told me in so many words. Girls talk to one another, you know, and if you’re very fond of someone you don’t need to be told things in so many words. You put two and two together.”

  “ Look here,” I said, groping for words. “ I don’t know what to say—I mean it’s wonderful to know that Jan has always—been fond of me.”

  “ You don’t deserve it,” said Barbie sternly.

  “ Oh, I know! I’ve been an absolute fool—but as I told you before I’ve loved Jan for years. It isn’t a sudden thing, Barbie.”

  “ You discovered it suddenly? ”

  “ Yes—and now that you’ve told me about Jan I understand what she feels. Naturally she wants to wait a little. I shall have to be patient and give her time; I mustn’t hurry her.”

  “ No! ” cried Barbie. “ No, that’s all wrong! You mustn’t be patient! You silly donkey, you must be impatient and masterful! ”

  “ But Barbie——”

  “ You must be a cave-man. You must seize her by the hair and drag her into your den. In other words, you must marry her.”

  “ Marry her? ”

  “ I suppose you want to marry her? ”

  “ Yes, of course! ”

  “ Well, marry her, then. Marry her straight off, for pity’s sake. Don’t hang about any longer.”

  “ But Barbie, I asked her——”

  “ You asked her! ” exclaimed Barbie scornfully. “ Asking her is no good.”

  “ But Barbie——”

  “ Don’t keep on saying ‘ but Barbie.’ Listen to me, David, if you dilly and dally the whole thing is hopeless. Jan says she’s going home.”

  “ Going home! ” I said in dismay. “ But she promised to help me with the cottage.”

  “ She’s going to the cottage to-morrow to choose the paint and then she’s going home. That’s her plan. She says she’ll go home for a week and then come back.”

  “ Perhaps that might be quite a good idea,” I said thoughtfully. “ I mean if she went home she could see how Elsie is. I could write to Freda and tell her——”

  “ If she goes home she won’t come back,” declared Barbie. “ They’ll persuade her to stay. Nell and I are sure of it. Jan won’t come back. It isn’t that she’s weak and changeable, it’s because she’s sweet and kind and far too unselfish. We had the devil of a job getting her away from Nethercleugh but we hammered at it until we succeeded. We wanted her to come—not only for our own sakes, because we love her, but for her sake. We were sure it would be better for Jan; it would give her a chance to expand and be herself.”

  “ I’m sure you were right! ” I exclaimed. “ She was being absolutely smothered at Nethercleugh. Jan is a different creature since she escaped.”

  Barbie nodded. “ We think so too. Jan needs encouragement and—and love. She needs sunshine. There was no sunshine at Nethercleugh. I stayed there once for a few days and I was never so unhappy in my life.”

  “ I know that only too well, Barbie.”

  “ Well then,” said Barbie. “ Nell and I talked about it a lot and we decided to get her out of it by hook or by crook. We thought if only we could manage to get her here, we could keep her—but we can’t. You’re the only person who could keep her.” Barbie looked at me and I saw with dismay that her eyes were full of tears. “ Oh David, do something,” she pleaded. “ Don’t be a fool and let her go. Freda and Elsie will tear her to bits between them. She’s sensitive and they’re as tough as blazes.”

  “ I’ll try,” I said. “ I’ll do my level best.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  When Barbie had gone I thought about all she had said and I decided that she was absolutely right; something desperate would have to be done. I made my plans and various arrangements and the next morning I did some shopping. Then I had lunch at The Wooden Spoon and took the bus to Green Beech Cottage.

  The men had got on well in my absence; they had hacked and burnt to good effect and now it was possible to see the view from the veranda. The view was beautiful. It was different this morning, clear and bright; the golden sun shone from a cloudless sky upon the green fields and the sprawling city.

  While I was admiring the view Noyes appeared. “ Could I speak to you for a moment, sir? ” he said.

  “ Yes, of course, Noyes.”

  “ What ’appens when we’ve finished clearing the place? ” asked Noyes. “ Are you coming to live ’ere, sir? ”

  “ That depends,” I replied. “ The fact is I want to get married. If I manage to—to bring it off we shall come and live here, but if not … well, I don’t know. I may sell the place. I haven’t quite decided.”

  “ I’m sure I wish you the best,” said Noyes, smiling rather shyly. He hesitated and then continued, “ I was asking because I was wanting a permanent job and I was wondering if by any chance you’d want a man. There’s a lot to do in the garden even when it’s cleared, isn’t there? ”

  “ Yes, that’s true,” I said.

  “ I’m a ’andy sort of feller,” declared Noyes. “ I wouldn’t mind ’elping in the ’ouse. I can do a bit of carpent’ring and I know a bit about electric gadgets. I can turn me ’and to pretty well anything. I was an officer’s batman in the war and Major Smith said as ’ow ’e’d take me on after the war, but then ’e couldn’t. ’E’d give me a good chit, I know that.”

  I thought about it seriously. I had not thought about the future before—the present was so full of complications—but now I realised that I should need a reliable man if I were coming to live at Green Beech Cottage. I liked Noyes. I had worked with him and I felt I knew him. There was something solid about Noyes.

  “ What I’d like is to live-in,” said Noyes eagerly. “ I’ve taken a fancy to this place. It’s pretty and countrified and not too far from town. I’m sick of dirty lodgings.”

  I could sympathise with that. Noyes was dirty on the surface because he had been working all morning. His face was smeared with soot from the bonfire, but beneath the surface he was clean—clean and wholesome.

  “ You might think of it, sir,” added Noyes.

  “ Yes, I shall certainly think of it,” I told him. “ I shall need somebody reliable. It would be a good plan to get in touch with Major …”

  “ Major Smith,” said Noyes. “ ’E’ll speak for me. I could move in as soon as you like, sir. It might be an advantage to ’ave someone on the spot to keep an eye on things.”

  “ But the house is empty! ”

  “ That wouldn’t worry me,” said Noyes, smiling. “ A bed is all I want. I can make meself snug anywhere in ’alf no time. I’m an old soldier, you see.” He spat on his hands, seized his axe, and laid in to a variegated laurel with a will.

  It seemed odd to think I could engage Noyes and have him to work for me. I laughed at myself as I went into the house. “ David Kirke, is this really you? ” I asked. “ Is this really you, standing in your own house and making up your mind to engage a man? ” But I was not happy all the same. The house and the man and all the other nice things that had come to me because I had written The Inward Eye would be nothing but dust and ashes unless I could persuade Jan to share them with me.

  Jan would be here quite soon now and I was going to put my fate to the test. I was going to gamble, to stake everything on a single throw. I was going to f
ollow Barbie’s advice. I trusted Barbie but all the same I was shaking in my shoes. At one moment my spirits soared and I felt certain that the tactics would succeed and Jan’s defences would crumble; and the next moment I was crushed by the fear that she would be furious with me. I walked about the house from one room to another trying to rouse my courage and rehearsing all that I meant to say to Jan when she arrived. Barbie had told me to be a “ cave-man,” to seize my woman by the hair and drag her into my den. “ Look here, Jan! ” I exclaimed aloud. “ There’s to be no nonsense about it. Either you marry me—or you don’t. Which is it to be? Either you marry me or I go out of your life for ever! ”

  But that sounded a bit melodramatic, besides it was not true. I had no intention of going out of Jan’s life for ever. I laughed ruefully and decided it was no use. I should have to wait until I saw Jan and say whatever came into my head. Meantime I found a window from which I could see the gate and I waited. Waiting was ghastly. If Jan did not come soon I should be sick—that was how I felt. If Jan did not come soon all my courage would have leaked away.

  At last she came. I saw her walking down the path from the gate and I ran and opened the door.

  “ Hallo, David! ” she said cheerfully but her eyes did not meet mine with their usual friendly confidence.

  “ Hallo, Jan! ” I returned.

  “ Is Mr. Pendle here? ”

  “ No, he isn’t. Come into the sitting-room and see the view.”

  She followed me and went straight over to the window. “ It’s lovely,” she said. “ It really is magnificent. How right you were to cut down the trees and bushes and open it up.”

  “ I’m glad you like it,” I told her. “ It would be a pity if you didn’t like it, because you’ll be seeing it every day; I mean when the cottage is ready and we move in.”

  She turned and looked at me with startled eyes.

  “ We’re going to be married, Jan.”