The Blue Sapphire

by D. E. Stevenson

  THE BLUE SAPPHIRE

  D. E. Stevenson

  © D. E. Stevenson 1963

  D. E. Stevenson has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in 1963 by Collins.

  This edition published in 2018 by Endeavour Media Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  PART TWO

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  London was enjoying the first day of spring; the clouds which had obscured the atmosphere for weeks had been swept away in the night and the old grey city was stretching herself and relaxing happily in mild air and golden sunshine. The sudden change was affecting everyone, people were walking along the streets more briskly, with cheerful faces and good-tempered mien.

  No wonder the Ancients were sun-worshippers, thought Julia Harburn as she looked round at her fellow-passengers in the bus and listened to the scraps of conversation. Spring was not only a happy time in itself, it was full of the promise of approaching summer.

  When the bus stopped at one of the entrances to Kensington Gardens a good many passengers got out. Amongst them were mothers with small children, and two little boys with a model yacht which they intended to sail on the Round Pond. Julia got out too, not because she wanted to amuse herself by walking in the gardens but because she had an appointment at three o’clock. It would have been pleasant to watch the children when they were let loose to run about and play, but there was no time to dawdle, for the bus had been held up in the traffic and she was a few minutes late.

  Julia always met Morland on Thursday afternoons—it was the day when he escaped early from his office. If it were cold or rainy they met at a tea-shop and had tea together, but this morning Morland had rung up and said, ‘It’s lovely to-day, Julia. Let’s meet at that seat in Kensington Gardens this afternoon. You know the one I mean.’

  Of course Julia had known, for it was when they were sitting there that Morland had asked her to marry him.

  Morland might have chosen a better place for his proposal; there were children playing with balls and shouting to each other; there were mothers with prams and girls strolling past with their arms round each other’s waists; there were all the usual odds and ends of humanity which take their pleasure in London parks on fine afternoons, so there was no opportunity for any sort of demonstration. Morland had just taken her hand, given it a somewhat painful squeeze and said, ‘You will, won’t you? . . . Good!’

  He might have said more, but at that moment an old gentleman sat down at the other end of the seat and looked at them sideways with an inquisitive stare in his pale-blue eyes, so they rose with one accord and walked on.

  ‘There are too many people in the world,’ declared Morland savagely.

  Julia was very young and romantic, so she was considerably upset. A proposal of marriage should be made and accepted in a rose-garden by moonlight . . . at the very least it should be made in private and sealed with a kiss. Why, oh why, had Morland chosen to make it in a London park amongst a crowd of people?

  However, in other ways the engagement was entirely satisfactory; their families had known each other for years. The Harburns lived in a pleasant old house in Manor Gardens, the Beverleys lived in a palatial modern flat in Springfield Mansions. They visited each other occasionally and sometimes played bridge together. Mrs. Beverley was fond of Julia and had decided long ago, when Julia was a child, that she would do very nicely for Morland, so when Julia’s mother died Julia was invited to go for a little holiday with the Beverleys and it was then that she and Morland had become friends. Morland was a good deal older than Julia, but they were both ‘only children,’ which made a bond between them, and gradually their friendship had ripened into a closer relationship.

  *

  2

  The engagement had taken place in the autumn; now it was spring, and Julia was on her way to the historic seat. She walked quickly, because she was late and she was aware that Morland did not like to be kept waiting . . . but Morland had not yet arrived at the rendezvous and the seat was unoccupied. Julia sat down.

  Now that she had leisure to look about her Julia was enchanted, for the scene was gay with spring; the trees were budding, the grass was green, there were tulips standing up straight like regiments of well-drilled soldiers; there were children running and skipping like frisky lambs, and girls in cotton frocks all colours of the rainbow.

  Julia herself was greeting the sunshine in a simple white frock and large straw hat with a sapphire-blue ribbon round the crown (it so happened that the ribbon matched her eyes; perhaps she was aware of this fortunate circumstance). She had dressed to please Morland, of course, but soon she became aware that quite a number of people were taking pleasure in her appearance. In fact it began to be rather uncomfortable sitting here all by herself . . . she wished Morland would come.

  An old gentleman stopped and stared at her; he might have been the very same old gentleman who had intruded before at such an unfortunate moment, for he had the same wrinkled face, the same inquisitive pale-blue eyes. He stopped and stared and made a movement as if he intended to sit down beside Julia on the seat; but she returned his stare in such a forbidding manner that he changed his mind and walked on.

  Three youths who were strolling along arm-in-arm looked at her hopefully, but Julia took no notice so they nudged each other and giggled and left her in peace.

  Julia was just recovering from her alarm when a young man went past—a remarkably large young man with a tanned face and sun-bleached hair—he looked at her intently but did not stop. A few moments later he returned and looked at her again . . . and hesitated.

  Julia was getting tired of all this; she wished Morland would come. She gazed at the young man’s shoes; above the shoes she could see the turn-ups of light-grey flannel trousers. It would have been interesting to see the rest of the outfit but she resisted the temptation to raise her eyes. The shoes were very large; they remained stationary on the path for a few seconds and then moved on reluctantly. They moved a few paces and stopped. Their owner came back to the seat and sat down.

  ‘You don’t mind if I sit here, I hope,’ said an unusually deep voice.

  ‘I have no right to mind,’ replied Julia coldly.

  ‘T
hat sounds as if you do.’

  The voice seemed disappointed, so Julia said hastily, ‘You see I’m waiting here for my fiancé.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘There are lots of other seats,’ said Julia pointedly.

  ‘But this one is particularly nice.’

  Julia remained silent. She had noticed before that he was large and fair; she noticed now that his face was frank and open; he really was rather nice but all the same she wished he would go away.

  ‘It would be better for me to sit here till he comes,’ said the young man in a casual tone.

  Julia was quite startled. It seemed as if he had read her thoughts.

  ‘You see,’ he continued, ‘if I don’t sit here someone else is certain to come and sit down and I promise to buzz off the moment he comes—so it would be better, wouldn’t it?’

  This was perfectly true. As a matter of fact Julia had noticed that whereas before, people had stared at her in a rather too interested manner, they now seemed much less interested. The seat was fairly long, but the young man had spread himself sideways, and he was so large that there was no room for anyone else.

  ‘You see what I mean?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes,’ said Julia. She hesitated and then added, ‘It’s very kind of you.’

  ‘Not at all. It’s a pleasure . . . besides, it’s absolutely necessary.’

  ‘Necessary?’

  ‘Yes. For instance those two fellows—ghastly types—would have sat down here if it hadn’t been for me.’

  Julia smiled; she had noticed the ‘ghastly types.’ ‘You frightened them,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, I meant to frighten them. We didn’t want them, did we?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘That’s what I meant. It’s absolutely necessary for you to have a watch-dog to show his teeth at people like that. It isn’t pleasant for a girl like you to sit here alone.’

  ‘I’m waiting for my fiancé.’

  ‘Yes I know, but he shouldn’t be late.’

  Julia felt obliged to defend Morland. ‘He can’t help it,’ she explained. ‘Sometimes he gets held up. You see he’s in his father’s firm and he’s hoping to be given a junior partnership so he has to do his best. He can’t always get away at the right time.’

  ‘Keeping you waiting!’ exclaimed the young man indignantly.

  ‘I’ve told you he can’t help it! I don’t really mind—not now.’

  ‘Not now?’ he asked.

  ‘I mean people aren’t so—so——’

  ‘No, they aren’t, are they?’

  ‘Besides, it’s nice sitting here in the sun.’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ said the young man, smiling at her. ‘I’ve been abroad for three years—just got home—and you can’t think how lovely it is to see green grass and trees in bud and girls in pretty dresses and the sun shining so pleasantly; in Africa it glares at you—not pleasantly at all.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it.’

  ‘I’m enjoying it tremendously. The only trouble is I don’t know anyone in London, so it’s a bit lonely.’

  ‘Yes, it must be.’

  ‘I’ve been to one or two plays but it isn’t so much fun going by yourself.’

  Julia agreed again. She had never been to a play by herself, but she could see it would not be much fun. She was beginning to feel sorry for the young man—how sad to come all the way from Africa and have nobody to welcome you when you arrived!

  ‘Haven’t you got a home?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yes, my people live in Devonshire and of course I’m going home as soon as I can. Brett is my name—Stephen Brett.’

  He paused and looked at Julia. Obviously he wanted to know her name and she saw no harm in telling him. Morland would be here at any moment and she would never see this poor lonely young man again, so what did it matter?

  ‘Mine is Julia Harburn,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, thank you awfully. That is kind of you!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s nice to think that I know one person in London . . . makes it feel different, somehow. Thank you awfully much.’

  His thanks for the small crumb she had given him were so exorbitant that she was slightly embarrassed and changed the subject by asking when he was going home.

  ‘I’m not quite sure,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got some business to settle first. I want to get it over and done with so that I can go home with an easy mind.’

  ‘Devonshire will be looking lovely now.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Our house is very old, it stands on a cliff overlooking the sea. There’s an orchard at the back with old gnarled apple trees and cherries and plums. They’ll all be in flower now.’

  ‘You must be longing to get home.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘At least I was. I mean, of course I want to get home, but—but I may be staying in Town longer than I expected, so perhaps I could see you again. I mean——’

  Julia was not listening. She had seen Morland approaching. ‘He’s coming now,’ she said urgently. ‘You promised you would go, didn’t you?’

  Stephen Brett rose at once. “Good-bye, Miss Harburn. Thank you for being—kind.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘Good-bye, Mr. Brett. Thank you for being a watch-dog.’

  *

  3

  The two men passed each other on the path; one going, the other coming. They looked at each other appraisingly. It was rather interesting, because they were so unlike: the one large and fair, the other slender and dark; the one clad in light grey flannel, the other in conventional city clothes. Julia had a feeling that they did not approve of each other’s appearance, but fortunately that did not matter in the least because it was most unlikely that that they would ever see each other again.

  ‘Julia!’ exclaimed Morland as he approached. ‘I saw you talking to that fellow. Who was he?’

  ‘Stephen Brett.’

  ‘I didn’t like the look of him at all. Where did you meet him?’

  ‘I met him this afternoon for the first time.’

  ‘Do you mean he just—picked you up?’ asked Morland incredulously.

  ‘Well, I suppose you could call it that. He sat down on the seat and we chatted a bit. He has just come back from Africa and knows nobody in London.’

  ‘How extraordinary!’

  ‘What’s extraordinary?’

  ‘You—talking to an absolute stranger like that!’

  ‘He talked to me; I couldn’t help it. As a matter of fact I was quite glad of his company, because he kept other people away.’

  ‘What other people?’

  ‘Everyone,’ replied Julia vaguely. ‘You see, I had to wait for nearly half an hour, so——’

  ‘I couldn’t help being late,’ declared Morland. ‘I was delayed. You know perfectly well that I’m not my own master. I can’t pick up my hat and walk out of the office whenever I like. I thought you understood.’

  ‘Oh, Morland, of course I understand! I’m not blaming you for being late. I’m only trying to explain why I was talking to him, that’s all.’

  ‘Surely you can sit on a seat for a few minutes without getting into conversation with a perfectly strange young man!’

  Julia smiled. ‘It isn’t as easy as you seem to think.’

  For a few moments Morland was silent—perhaps he had seen the point—then he exclaimed, ‘But why did he rush off like that when he saw me coming?’

  ‘Because I asked him to go.’

  ‘You asked him to go when you saw me coming?’ asked Morland incredulously.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Julia.

  ‘Why on earth did you do that?’

  ‘Because I wanted to talk to you, of course. I wanted to talk to you about something important and I couldn’t talk to you with that very large young man sitting and listening to every word, could I?’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘Something important?’ asked Morland at last. ‘What is it, Julia?’

  There was quite a l
ot to tell him; Julia’s father had decided to take a holiday from his business, so he and his young wife (Julia’s stepmother) were going for a cruise in the Mediterranean.

  ‘It has all been arranged suddenly,’ explained Julia. ‘They asked me to go with them, but I think it will be much nicer for them to go by themselves.’

  ‘Well, perhaps,’ agreed Morland. ‘At any rate I’m very glad you aren’t going, I should miss you frightfully; but what are you going to do? It will be dull for you alone in that big house.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t stay in Manor Gardens! The house is being painted and redecorated while they are away. I shall have to find a room somewhere and I want to get a job.’

  ‘A job!’ cried Morland. ‘Julia, why on earth——’

  ‘Because I’m tired of doing nothing,’ she told him. ‘Of course I had plenty to do when I was keeping house for Father but now it’s quite different. Retta likes to run the house in her own way and it’s right that she should.’

  ‘You get on very well with Retta, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Retta is devoted to you,’ declared Morland. ‘She said to me the other day that she would miss you dreadfully when we were married. She said all sorts of nice things about you.’

  Julia was not surprised at this information. Of course Retta would say ‘all sorts of nice things’ about her to Morland. Retta wanted Julia and Morland to be married as soon as possible and made no secret of her desire. Only yesterday she had said with studied carelessness, ‘I suppose you’ll be fixing a day soon. You’ve been engaged for six months, haven’t you?’ and Julia had replied as usual, ‘Morland thinks we should wait until he has been given his partnership in the firm.’

  Julia was tired of saying the same thing; every time she said it she found it more difficult. She did not blame Retta for wanting to get rid of her—it was quite natural really—but it made her uncomfortable to feel she was de trop.

  Morland had sat down on the seat by this time and was poking a hole in the gravel with the ferrule of his umbrella. ‘I can’t think why you want a job,’ he said.

  ‘I should be happier if I had something to do.’

  ‘It would be much better to settle down at home and wait until we can be married. I expect I shall be given the partnership quite soon.’