The Tall Stranger

by D. E. Stevenson

  It was not until supper was finished and the two friends had settled down comfortably for the evening that Barbie felt able to unburden herself to Nell.

  ‘About Edward,’ she said suddenly, interrupting Nell in the middle of rather an amusing story about the vagaries of the woman in the Other Flat.

  ‘Yes?’ asked Nell.

  ‘You’ll probably think I’m mad, but I just suddenly found I didn’t know him.’

  Nell grunted sympathetically. She was aware that Barbie had known Edward since she was a child, but that was neither here nor there of course.

  ‘I can’t tell you the whole story,’ continued Barbie thoughtfully; ‘but I must talk to somebody about it or I’ll burst. You know what you said when you came to Underwoods to lunch? You said “give him a chance” and so I did – and then I realised that you were right; I was very fond of him. He’s very charming and attractive, and he was so specially – nice – to me that I couldn’t help seeing …’

  ‘It was obvious,’ said Nell.

  ‘So when he asked me to marry him I couldn’t say no. It’s difficult to say no to Edward. Everything seemed to – to push me into it. Aunt Amalie wanted it – I knew that – and there was another reason why it seemed the right thing to do. It all seemed as if it were meant that I should marry Edward. So I said yes and I was very happy about it. Everybody was happy and everything in the garden was lovely.’

  ‘Then something happened?’ suggested Nell.

  ‘Yes, something happened. He told Aunt Amalie a lie. I can’t make up my mind whether it was an important lie or not, but he told it so well and with so many details that it took us both in completely. It was only this morning coming up in the car, that I discovered the whole story was untrue … and when I asked him about it he just laughed and said it was a joke!’

  ‘Perhaps it was a joke,’ suggested Nell, who was puzzled.

  ‘It isn’t my idea of a joke,’ declared Barbie.

  There was a short silence.

  ‘You’ll either have to tell me or not tell me,’ said Nell.

  Barbie had realised this ten seconds before her friend. Five seconds later she realised that already she had told Nell too much to leave her guessing; besides she wanted Nell’s judgment. The story did not take long to relate and Barbie related it with admirable impartiality, for not only was she Valiant for Truth, but she had a passion for fair dealing.

  ‘You see,’ said Barbie earnestly. ‘You see Edward’s idea was that there was no harm in telling Aunt Amalie “a bedtime story” – that was what he called it – because if he had told her the truth he would have got the money just the same. That was his idea. I had no ideas at all; I just knew I couldn’t marry him.’

  Nell was more experienced in the ways of the world. She said, ‘I don’t like lies either, but lots of people tell lies.’

  ‘You think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill?’

  ‘It isn’t a question of mountains and molehills; it’s a question of feelings. If you feel you can’t marry him that’s that.’

  ‘What would you feel?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Nell thoughtfully. ‘If I loved him frightfully I don’t think it would have put me off – but I’m different from you.’

  ‘It didn’t change me; it changed him,’ declared Barbie. ‘I suddenly discovered that I didn’t know him. The man sitting next me in the car wasn’t Edward; he was a complete stranger – and I didn’t like him.’

  There was quite a long silence after that. Nell broke it. She smiled at her friend with her sudden delightful smile and said, ‘Well, obviously you aren’t heart-broken.’

  ‘Heart-broken?’ said Barbie doubtfully. ‘No, I don’t seem to – to mind very much. It’s funny, isn’t it? But I’m afraid Aunt Amalie will be heart-broken. What am I to say to Aunt Amalie?’

  Nell saw the difficulty. The truth could not be told, and Barbie could tell nothing but the truth. ‘You’ll just have to say you’ve changed your mind, that’s all,’ said Nell thoughtfully. ‘If she knows you – which I suppose she does – she’ll realise that there’s some good reason, but you can’t help that. Don’t write at once. Wait a few days until you’ve calmed down a bit.’

  ‘You needn’t think I shall change my mind!’

  Nell did not think so, but there was no harm in waiting. ‘I should wait,’ said Nell. ‘People are always so keen to rush and tell other people bad news.’

  Barbie’s reception at Garfield’s was cordial and affectionate. They were all pleased to see her, from Mr Garfield himself down to the youngest girl in the work-rooms whose monotonous duty it was to sew on buttons and to put in zips. Of course they might not have been quite so enthusiastic in their welcome to Miss France if her temporary substitute had not been rather an unpleasant person and difficult to work with. Miss France realised that, but she was touched all the same.

  The first thing Miss France did was to arrange about the chair-covers for Mrs Bray and to put them in hand immediately … and she looked out the pictures and patterns and sketches for the transformation of Mrs Bray’s spare bedroom and despatched them without delay. As she did so she thought of the irate lady who had turned into a friend, and of various other ‘difficult customers’ who had been placated just as easily.

  This is my job, thought Barbie. This is the thing I can do. Even if Edward were different it would be a mistake for me to marry him. I shall never marry anyone, thought Barbie.

  It was lucky that she had not written to Mr Garfield and told him of her engagement. She had thought of it and then had decided that she would tell him when she saw him. Now there was no need; she could slip back into her old place and settle down.

  With Nell it was easy to slip back into her old place. They talked and talked about everything under the sun – or almost everything. Strangely enough they each had one secret unsuspected by the other. Barbie’s secret was the fact that some day in the distant future Underwoods would belong to her. To tell the truth Barbie was not happy about it. Her engagement to Edward had solved the difficulty, but now the problem of Underwoods had begun to bother her again.

  The two friends talked and talked, calling out to each other from the kitchen to the sitting-room – or wherever they happened to be – and it was all just the same – or very nearly.

  So far Barbie had not seen the woman in the Other Flat, but had heard quite a lot about her. Apparently she had no job but lived there with her child. She was a widow, so presumably she had a small pension.

  ‘There’s a man,’ said Nell. ‘He comes to see her quite often. I’ve met him on the stairs. He’s a smooth man, if you know what I mean; smarmy sort of manners and patent-leather hair. She hinted to me one day that “Mr Banks” wants to marry her. I wish he would.’

  ‘Would it be a good thing?’ asked Barbie in surprise, for Nell’s description of the prospective bridegroom did not sound attractive.

  ‘They would go away,’ exclaimed Nell. ‘That would be a very good thing. You see I was so frightfully lonely without you that I gave her a footing. I gave her an inch and she took an ell – she’s that sort of person. Now, I can’t get rid of her. I don’t like to cast her off completely. As a matter of fact it would be difficult to cast her off. Glore has a hide like a rhinoceros … and then there’s Agnes,’ added Nell and paused.

  ‘Is she a nice child?’ asked Barbie.

  ‘Oh, it isn’t that,’ said Nell. ‘She’s a very uninteresting child and never says a word (of course it’s a bit difficult to get a word in edgeways when Glore is holding the floor). It’s just that I’m sorry for the child and sometimes a bit worried about her. Perhaps I’m an ass but you do read such awful things in the papers.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ declared Barbie in bewilderment.

  ‘Wait till you see Glore,’ said Nell.

  These confidences prepared Barbie for the worst.

  The second night after Barbie’s return, when she and Nell had just settled down for the evening
, there was a knock on the front door. It was a curious sort of knock and Nell immediately sat upright and looked at Barbie in dismay.

  ‘It’s Glore!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Glore?’

  ‘She always knocks like that. Oh blow!’ exclaimed Nell inelegantly. ‘Why did she have to come tonight? She’ll come in and talk.’

  ‘We’ll get rid of her quickly – or shall we pretend we’re out?’

  ‘She can see the light,’ declared Nell. ‘I’ve tried that before and she just goes on knocking. I shall have to let her in.’

  Barbie had not expected to like Glore so she was not disappointed when the door was opened and the lady appeared. The odd thing was that Glore was exactly as Barbie had imagined. Usually, when one hears a lot about people, one discovers that they are quite different from one’s mental picture. One imagines them to be tall and thin, and discovers them to be short and fat – or vice versa. Barbie had imagined Glore as a smartly-dressed woman, rather heavily made-up, with a stout body and very thin legs … and she was.

  ‘We had to come,’ said Glore, tripping in gaily. ‘We couldn’t wait a moment longer to see Miss France. We mustn’t stay long, but we just had to come. You see, Nell told us so much about you, Miss France. Poor Nell has been so lonely without you, but we’ve tried to cheer her up, haven’t we, Agnes?’

  Barbie saw then – but not before – that she had a child with her.

  ‘This is Agnes,’ added Glore. ‘You wouldn’t think she was my child, would you?’

  ‘She isn’t very like you,’ admitted Barbie rather uncomfortably.

  ‘Goodness no!’ Glore exclaimed. ‘She takes after her father’s side of the house – plain and mousy.’

  It was difficult to know what to say with the child standing there. The child was not attractive so one could not praise her looks (or at least Barbie could not). She was small and thin and pale with dark hair, scraped back from her forehead and tied in a ‘pony tail’ with an old piece of brown ribbon – a most unsuitable style of hair-dressing for a little girl.

  They had hoped to get rid of their visitor quickly but by this time she was in the sitting-room and looking round.

  ‘Oh Nell, what lovely flowers!’ she cried delightedly. ‘From one of the boy-friends, I suppose.’

  ‘I bought them,’ said Nell.

  ‘Oh, you extravagant creature!’ squealed Glore.

  Having admired the flowers – and called upon Agnes to admire them – Glore subsided into a chair. ‘So tired,’ she explained. ‘So terribly tired – and your chairs are so comfortable. There aren’t any really comfortable chairs in my flat. I’ve just taken it furnished and put all my own nice little bits and pieces into store until I can look about and decide what to do. Of course if it wasn’t for Agnes I could get a job quite easily – but I expect Nell has told you all my problems.’

  ‘Er – yes,’ said Barbie. It was not strictly true, for she and Nell had had far more interesting things to talk about but she could hardly explain to Mrs Evans.

  Fortunately Glore did not bother about what people said, she liked to do the talking herself, so she went on talking about her problems; about the price of food and the price of clothes and she invited Nell to guess what she had paid for the nylon stockings she was wearing – and incidentally displayed her neat ankles. It was nearly ten o’clock when she rose to go home and Agnes had gone to sleep in a chair and had to be awakened.

  ‘She ought to have been in bed long ago,’ said Barbie, as she watched the child being dragged away.

  ‘Oh, I know,’ agreed her mother. ‘But she won’t be left alone in the flat – so ridiculous for a child of eight years old! I don’t know what she thinks could happen. Come on, do,’ she added to the child. ‘You heard what Miss France said – and Nell thinks so too – you ought to be in bed.’

  ‘She’s horrid,’ said Barbie when they had bolted the door behind their unwanted guests.

  ‘Yes, I told you she was horrid.’

  ‘I mean she’s horrid to the child.’

  Nell hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘I know. That’s what I meant when I said I was worried. I’ve often thought … but it’s no good thinking about it. Agnes is her own child, so what can one do?’

  ‘Do you think she ill-treats her?’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Nell quickly. ‘At least she doesn’t beat her – or anything like that – she just neglects Agnes and – and shows her quite clearly that she’s a nuisance.’

  Nell was surprised that Edward had not rung up, nor called, nor written, but perhaps he had accepted his fate. To tell the truth Barbie, too, was surprised. Each time the telephone bell rang she expected it to be Edward, but it was Phil or Peter – and once it was rather a deep voice that called itself Will.

  ‘That’s Will wanting to speak to you!’ Barbie shouted to Nell who was in the kitchen – and she added, ‘Who’s Will –’ for Will was unknown to her.

  ‘Oh – just Will,’ replied Nell, rushing madly to the phone.

  Barbie did not inquire further (for of course if Nell wanted her to know about Will she would disclose his identity), but she was interested to learn that Will had asked Nell to go to the theatre with him on Friday night to see a new production of Romeo and Juliet.

  On Friday morning Glore’s usual knock was heard at breakfast time and Glore was discovered on the landing with an empty jug in her hand.

  ‘Just a teeny drop of milk – for Agnes,’ said Glore with a brilliant smile. ‘So silly of me to run out of milk – but you’re always so kind. I don’t mind a bit drinking my tea without milk but Agnes is so faddy. Oh, and I wondered if you could have Agnes to supper. Could you possibly? I’ve simply got to go out tonight; it’s very special.’

  ‘I’m going out myself,’ said Nell.

  ‘Oh, Nell, need you?’ asked Glore. ‘Couldn’t you put it off? I mean you can go out any night, can’t you? Agnes won’t be any bother, and you can make her wash up the dishes.’

  Nell hesitated.

  ‘Oh, please!’ cried Glore. ‘Dear Nell, please say yes. It really is terribly important. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t terribly, terribly important to poor little me. I’d do the same for you any day. You know I would.’

  Nell did not see how Glore would do the same for her – and in any case she had discovered that Glore would make the most extravagant promises and forget all about them in a few hours. Friendship with Glore was a very one-sided affair.

  ‘Look here,’ said Nell. ‘I’ve told you I’ve got a date tonight. I’m going to the theatre with a friend, so –’

  ‘But you could put it off, couldn’t you?’

  ‘I suppose I could.’

  ‘Dear Nell, you are so kind!’

  ‘But when will you be home?’ asked Nell. ‘Last time you asked me to have Agnes to supper you didn’t come home till after twelve o’clock.’

  ‘Oh, I know,’ agreed Glore. ‘But that was because I missed the bus. I went to supper with some friends at Welwyn – and I missed the bus. I couldn’t help it, Nell. This time is quite, quite different. You will say yes, won’t you? Please Nell –’

  ‘All right,’ said Nell ungraciously.

  ‘You see how it is,’ said Nell to Barbie as she shut the door.

  Barbie saw how it was but she was surprised. ‘Do you really mean you’re going to put off your date?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘I’ve done it before and I’ll probably do it again,’ declared Nell. ‘I don’t trust Glore. She might go out and leave that child locked up in the flat alone – and supposing something happened? I wouldn’t enjoy myself; I’d be wondering all the time. Will won’t mind – or at least he won’t mind very much,’ added Nell, trying to be strictly truthful.

  ‘I’ll have her,’ said Barbie. ‘You go to Romeo and Juliet with Will – whoever he is – and I’ll look after Agnes.’

  They argued about it in a friendly manner: Nell declaring that it was her pigeon – it was she and not Barbie who had g
ot mixed up with the Evans family – and Barbie declaring that she would stay in and look after Agnes and probably wash her hair.

  ‘My hair needs washing,’ said Barbie, running her fingers through her copper-coloured curls. ‘I’ll kill two birds with one stone.’

  Eventually Nell was persuaded and went out to her date looking even more ravishing than usual, and Barbie had Agnes to supper and washed her copper-coloured curls.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  All this time not a word had been heard from Edward but on Saturday night Nell answered the phone and shouted, ‘Barbie, it’s for you! It’s Edward!’

  ‘I don’t want to speak to him,’ shouted Barbie.

  ‘But what shall I tell him?’

  ‘Just that I would rather not speak to him – that’s all.’

  Nell was unwilling to convey the message (and who could blame her?). She said, ‘Come on, Barbie, you had better hear what he has to say.’

  Very reluctantly Barbie took the receiver and put it to her ear.

  ‘Is that you, Barbie?’ asked Edward. ‘Darling, I didn’t bother you before. I thought I’d wait and see what happened – it’s marvellous news! April Cloud simply romped home. Isn’t it grand? Of course I knew he would (I told you he was a snip, didn’t I?) but all the same it’s marvellous and I’m terribly excited. I’ve just this minute got back, and I had to ring you at once because I knew you’d be so pleased.’

  Barbie had almost forgotten about April Cloud – which was odd because in reality April Cloud was the cause of all the trouble – and, now that she remembered, she did not know whether to be pleased or displeased at his victory. She supposed that Edward would pay back the money he had borrowed (which was all to the good), but it would have satisfied Barbie’s sense of justice if April Cloud had been a non-starter.

  ‘You are pleased, aren’t you?’ said Edward’s voice in her ear. ‘It’s all right now, isn’t it, darling? I’m sending the cheque to Amie this very minute.’ He paused.