Love Him or Leave Him

by Mary Burchell

  ‘No,’ Deborah said, gently, but quite distinctly. ‘Perhaps you would take up the letters yourself, Robin.’

  ‘Oh, but—’ Robin began.

  ‘He’s really very tired, and I don’t think he ought to have any more visitors, outside the family, tonight,’ Deborah explained firmly. ‘Please take them, Robin.’

  Anne thrust the letters into his hands, very conscious of the fact that she was going to need all her tact and powers of conciliation to prevent Deborah becoming an enemy.

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Robin took them. ‘Don’t go, though, Anne. I shan’t be very long, and I’ll be coming ever with you to the Towers for dinner.’

  ‘I’ll walk on, then,’ Anne said, not at all relishing the thought of being left alone with Deborah and her vague, unhelpful mother.

  ‘No, don’t do that.’ Robin was already at the door, and spoke over his shoulder. ‘Anyway, David may want to send some message about these.’

  That was true. And, reluctantly, Anne sat down, taking a chair near Mrs. Eskin, in the hope of engaging her in harmless conversation as a welcome alternative to further cut and thrust with Deborah.

  Mrs. Eskin, who had been looking dreamily out of the window, and had taken no part whatever in .the previous conversation, now seemed to notice Anne for the first time.

  ‘How sweet the rain-drenched garden smells,’ she said.

  She spoke in a rather soulful mezzo, and her words— as so often with her—somehow sounded like not very good blank verse.

  ‘Yes, doesn’t it?’ Anne agreed, feeling that her own conversation fell something short of the standard set.

  ‘My poor flowers!’ sighed Mrs. Eskin. Though, in point of fact, she very seldom did anything in the garden, and the flowers could not accurately be described as hers.

  ‘They’ll revive tomorrow,’ Anne assured her, in a practical tone. ‘The rain has stopped now, and they recover wonderfully soon.’

  ‘Yes. Like children,’ Mrs. Eskin breathed.

  Anne could think of nothing to say to this, in similar vein, so she remained silent. And almost immediately, her hostess turned her head away again and became immersed in her own thoughts.

  At the same time, Deborah said softly:

  ‘Miss Hemming.’

  Anne glanced across the room, and, at the very slight sign from the other girl, reluctantly rose and went to her.

  ‘I just wanted to say that, if Mr. Jerome should suggest your taking work for him again, I’m sure you will see that it is better you should not,’ Deborah said pleasantly. So pleasantly that the tone gave a spurious air of reasonableness to her words.

  But Anne was not in a mood to be intimidated, or put off with specious reasoning.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t see why it would be better I should not,’ she returned calmly. ‘I don’t quite understand.’

  ‘But surely you must have seen that you caused a certain amount of upset, Miss Hemming. Unknowingly, you went against doctor’s orders and—’

  ‘I think we’ve really disposed of that point,’ Anne said dryly, surprised at the sense of obstinacy which she felt growing within her. ‘Mr. Jerome may have tired himself a little, but he was obviously better for knowing his work was in order. And, since I take it that he’s progressing well, there will be even less chance of harming him in a few days’ time. If that’s all you’re thinking of—’

  ‘That was not all I was thinking of,’ Deborah said.

  ‘No?’ Anne waited for further explanations, and, when none were forthcoming, added coldly, ‘I’m afraid you must be a little more explicit.’

  ‘Very well, then. Let me just say that it will be much better for you simply to enjoy your—well-earned holiday in an orthodox way, without mixing it with business.’

  Anne gave an incredulous little laugh.

  ‘Are you—threatening me?’ she asked.

  ‘Certainly not.’ A look of distaste passed over Deborah’s calm face. ‘I’m just letting you know that I feel sure it will be a much more enjoyable holiday for you if you do as I suggest.’

  Anne felt her temper rising, but she kept a firm hold on it. She had already made enough trouble for herself by losing it once before.

  ‘I’m really rather a stupid person, Miss Eskin,’ she retorted lightly, ‘and I’ve never been able to make much of hints and riddles. If I—do anything to annoy you in the future, you must just put it down to the fact that you didn’t make yourself sufficiently plain.’

  And she turned away, with something like a sigh of relief, as she heard Robin coming downstairs.

  He came into the room, bringing a refreshing breath of common sense with him.

  ‘Full marks, Anne. Everything is signed, sealed and approved. But David says will you go up and see him for a moment?’

  Anne was aware that Deborah, behind her, stiffened, but was not, apparently, willing to draw further attention to herself by protesting once more in Robin’s presence. It might perhaps have been wiser, in the moment of victory, to hand a concession to Deborah. It would not have been difficult to defer to her, and even to suggest that she should run upstairs and bring down any message which David Jerome wished to send.

  But Anne found herself completely unwilling to concede as much. Not that she felt any deep resentment against Deborah. But she wanted to see Mr. Jerome. She wanted, just for once, to bask in something like his approval. He had sent her a word of praise, and he had asked to see her. She was certainly not going to miss her moment, just because Deborah chose to be highhanded and absurd.

  ‘I won’t be more than a minute or two,’ Anne said. And, without even glancing at Deborah, she went out of the room and upstairs.

  His door was ajar, and, as she paused outside it, he called: ‘Come on in. Is that Miss Hemming?’

  ‘Yes.’ Anne came in, for the second time that day, and regarded the spectacle of the intimidating Mr. Jerome propped up in bed.

  He looked much livelier, and in an excellent humour, so that Anne could not help thinking how absurd it was to pretend that a little work would harm him.

  ‘Was everything all right, Mr. Jerome?’ she inquired demurely.

  ‘Yes—excellent. I’m very much obliged to you—and particularly for clearing everything off so quickly.

  ‘Well, you really have Robin to thank for that.’

  ‘Have I? Oh, you mean that he found you a typewriter?’

  ‘And took me into Ambleside, and waited while I typed the letters.’

  ‘Yes, that was very considerate of him. But, when all’s said and done, it was you who did the work, and I think you’re entitled to the thanks.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t had so much approval from you that I can afford to be coy and reject any, Mr. Jerome,’ Anne said, with smiling candour.

  ‘What’s that?’ He frowned slightly. ‘Oh-er-no. I suppose not. But, in spite of your harsh ideas of me as an employer, I do occasionally try to give credit where credit is due,’ he told her dryly.

  But she noticed that his dark eyes twinkled, and, on a sudden mischievous impulse, she asked:

  ‘It this your olive branch, Mr. Jerome?’

  He looked rather taken aback and annoyed. But perhaps he found her smiling glance difficult to resist. Or perhaps it was just that, at heart, he was really more generous than he wished to appear.

  ‘Hardly a branch,’ he said, smiling slightly in his turn. ‘Something more in the nature of a twig, shall we say?’

  Anne laughed outright then.

  ‘It’s very acceptable, whatever its size,’ she told him frankly.

  ‘Good. Then does that mean that you’re willing to do some more work for me, as and when required?’

  For a moment, Anne thought of the angry, unreasonable girl downstairs. But it would be absurd to allow one’s actions to be governed by someone so arrogant and unrealistic. Besides, however scornfully Deborah might have rejected the accusation of threat, she had had the effrontery to threaten Anne. And Anne was not going to let her pride ac
cept that.

  ‘Well?’ said her employer’s voice amusedly, and she realised that she had lifted her chin in an unconscious little gesture of defiance. ‘Proposing to make your own terms now?’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Anne was shocked, and looked much more like herself again. ‘Certainly not. And of course I’ll do any work you want, Mr. Jerome. You’d better let me know through—through Robin, when you require me.’

  ‘Through Robin, eh?' He looked at her reflectively. ‘Yes, all right. If I need you tomorrow, then—’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I was—intending to go out for the day with Robin tomorrow.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘But I could come in the evening, if necessary,’ she offered, eagerly.

  ‘You could?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’ Mr. Jerome seemed full of approving phrases this evening, she thought. ‘Then perhaps you would call in with Robin on your way back, in any case, and see if there’s anything.’

  ‘Yes,’ Anne said, with the very slightest hesitation. ‘Yes, I could do that.’

  ‘Any doubt about it?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Again she determinedly dismissed the spectre of an angry Deborah, who would presumably very much resent Anne’s calling in, more or less as a matter of course.

  However, if she were going to consider Deborah’s reactions before taking her decisions, nothing would ever be done. So, having repeated her promise to call in the following evening, Anne said goodnight and went downstairs.

  She and Robin, said their goodbyes, and went off together, pausing only to post Mr. Jerome’s letters at the corner post-box.

  Anxious not to make more of the Deborah situation than necessary, and determined not to give Robin the impression that she wished to gossip about his relations, Anne refrained from speaking of what had just passed.

  However, over dinner, Robin himself referred to it.

  ‘I’m afraid I’m fated to say the wrong thing where your affairs are concerned, Anne,’ he remarked, with a rueful smile. ‘I’m sorry—I didn’t realise that Deborah still knew nothing about your having worked for David.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter at all,’ Anne declared. ‘I ought to have been more explicit. When I said Deborah knew about my having taken Mr. Jerome’s letters, you thought I’d also explained why I was specially qualified to do so, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. I hadn’t anything to go on except your one remark as we came into the house. I assumed too much, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Anyone else would have done the same. Don’t worry about it at all. We explained quite satisfactorily afterwards.’

  ‘Ye-es,’ Robin said, but doubtfully, and Anne immediately wondered if Deborah had said anything more to her cousin while she herself was upstairs.

  But aloud she said, with determined matter-of-factness: ‘I’m sorry that Deborah thought I took too much on myself. But she’s sure to mention the matter to Mr. Jerome, and he can put it right much better than I can. He’s very satisfied with the arrangement himself, and he’ll make her see that no one meant to slight her.’

  ‘Ye-es,’ Robin said again, still with that suggestion of doubt in his tone.

  Then he changed the subject, and presently they danced, and lightheartedly disregarded anything but their own immediate pleasure in the band and the excellent dance floor and each other’s company.

  They had no intention of making a specially early start the next morning. But, since the weather had changed once more to that cloudless beauty which can so easily succeed torrential rain in the Lake District, Anne came down to breakfast in very good time.

  There were already several other people in the breakfast-room, and Anne thought she had greeted all those she knew, when as she passed a table for two the single occupant rose and said:

  ‘Why, hello, Miss Hemming! What are you doing in this part of the world?’

  And Anne turned her head to see Mr. Pennerley—the junior partner in Mr. Jerome’s firm, and her own immediate boss until the unfortunate incident which had led to her dismissal.

  ‘Mr. Pennerley!’ She held out her hand, and added, with sincerity: ‘How nice to see you.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m extremely glad to see you too. Won’t you join me at breakfast, if you’re on your own? Frankly, I’m very eager to hear your own version of the incident that led to my losing an excellent secretary.’

  Anne laughed and coloured a little.

  ‘Oh, yes—it all happened in your absence, of course, didn’t it?’ She sat down opposite him, paused to order her breakfast, and then looked up and said, somewhat to her own surprise: ‘It was a good deal my own fault, actually. I was unpardonably rude, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Hm,’ said Mr. Pennerley, who believed in loyally supporting an absent partner, but was not unaware that David Jerome had his difficult moments. ‘You aren’t going to tell me in detail?’

  ‘Oh, yes—if you like. It’s rather old history, though,’ Anne assured him. And, as she said that, she realised that it really was. The situation between her and Mr. Jerome had changed, subtly, but quite distinctly, since that day.

  However, she gave Mr. Pennerley a not unamusing account of the incident. A less biased account than she had given Robin, when she was so much nearer to the event, she realised. And at the end, Mr. Pennerley said:

  ‘I see, I see. A bit difficult for the head of a firm to take that lying down, of course. But I’m sorry, Miss Hemming. Very sorry. Now tell me what you’re doing here.’

  So Anne explained about the small legacy.

  ‘Very interesting, my word! Congratulations,’ Mr. Pennerley said heartily. ‘Odd you should choose here. Do you know that Jerome is staying in the district?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Anne said, helping herself to a slice of toast. ‘I’m working for him.’

  ‘You’re—what?’ cried Mr. Pennerley. And then, because he prided himself on his sense of humour, he roared with laughter. ‘My dear Miss Hemming, this is like a stage farce.’

  ‘It is, a little,’ Anne agreed. Though she wondered if one could really fit Deborah into a stage farce.

  ‘Please tell me some more?’ begged Mr. Pennerley.

  So Anne went on to explain how it was that she had done some work for Mr. Jerome.

  ‘I—see.’ Mr. Pennerley looked optimistically reflective. ‘So that, in a manner of speaking, you’ve buried the hatchet?’

  ‘I think we might say so,’ Anne agreed, smiling slightly. ‘At least, I can’t really answer for him, but I’m prepared to forget our difference and start afresh.’

  ‘I—see,’ said Mr. Pennerley again, and sipped his coffee. There was a slight silence, and then Anne said:

  ‘I suppose you’re here in order to see Mr. Jerome?’

  ‘Yes. Rushed away from the office for twenty-four hours. I drove over from Carlisle very late last night. A bit exhausting, but it was urgent.’

  ‘A big contract, you mean?’

  Mr. Pennerley smiled waggishly.

  ‘Look here, Miss Hemming, are you still with us—or not?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, what’s your position at the moment? Are you still part of our firm, or possibly in process of arranging to work for one of our rivals, when this holiday is over?’

  ‘Neither as far as I know,’ Anne said, and flushed. ‘I certainly haven’t any plans about going to work for a rival firm. But I—I could hardly be described as part of your firm, Mr. Pennerley. I have been sacked, when all’s said and done.’

  ‘Even though you’re working for Jerome right now?’

  ‘That’s—that’s something rather different. I don’t imagine he regards that as a—a sort of re-entry into the firm.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ Mr. Pennerley declared, in a peculiarly satisfied tone. ‘In any case, there’s no harm in telling you that I’m here to see Jerome about the possibility of a tremendous contract with—well, never min
d who it is. But if we get it, it’ll be pretty nearly the biggest thing we’ve ever handled. Of course, there are several others in the field, but our chances are good, only time is short. That’s why I came personally to see Jerome.’

  ‘You hope to get everything fixed up with him today?’

  ‘Yes. Then back to London by the night train, and I’ll have everything typed out in the office tomorrow—letter, specifications and so on—and posted off the same day.’

  ‘You say time is important?’

  ‘Yes—very.’

  ‘You could save a day if you had everything typed and posted direct from here.’

  ‘Yes, of course. But it’s very confidential, Miss Hemming. We wouldn’t want to trust it to just anyone, you know. It might—By jove! that’s an idea! You mean that you could do it for us?’

  ‘If—if Mr. Jerome approved,’ Anne said, looking at the tablecloth.

  ‘Of course he’ll approve,’ Mr. Pennerley exclaimed impatiently. ‘You’re still a member of the firm, except for a—a mere technicality.’

  Anne had to laugh at the idea of her shattering scene with Mr. Jerome being reduced to a mere technicality. But she was desperately anxious, suddenly, that Mr. Jerome should approve the idea of her being employed for this particular piece of confidential work. It would make her feel that she had really been reinstated in his good opinion. And at that moment she knew that she very much wanted Mr. Jerome’s good opinion.

  ‘Will you—speak to him about it, Mr. Pennerley?’

  ‘Yes, of course. In fact, you’d better come along with me right away. As soon as you’ve finished your breakfast, I mean.’

  ‘No, I’d—rather you spoke to him first. I don’t want him to think the idea came from me. He might think—he might think—’

  ‘He wouldn’t think anything but that it was darned lucky you’re here,’ interrupted Mr. Pennerley briskly. ‘But, if you want to split the hair of official etiquette, I’ll speak to him first, and make the suggestion as my own. In any case, I daresay we’ll want most of the morning for discussion. If you keep this afternoon free—?’