The Man in Possession

by Hilda Pressley

  But now the silence in the car was both unnatural and uncomfortable. Julia could stand it no longer, and feeling it was up to her to try to ease the strain, she turned to speak to the other girl.

  ‘Have you been staying in Norwich long, Miss Palmer?’

  Celia’s blue eyes widened, almost as though Julia were committing an impertinence by speaking to her.

  ‘Just a few days,’ she answered coolly.

  ‘And have you enjoyed it? Julia was nothing if not persevering.

  There was a pause. For a minute or two Julia thought Celia was not going to reply at all. But then she said, in a grumbling tone:

  ‘It’s just about the dreariest place I’ve ever visited in my whole life. And your weather—’

  This, apparently, had been too disgusting for words. Julia’s lips curved in amusement.

  ‘Unfortunately, that’s something we can’t do a thing about. But the rain has been pretty widespread throughout the country. As to Norwich being dreary—well, it depends on what kind of entertainment you want. There are plenty of cinemas and theatres, numerous places where you can dine and dance. And in the summer, Norfolk is absolutely delightful.’

  ‘Really?’ came the bored response. Then, as if to cut Julia deliberately out of the conversation: ‘Roger, you remember my telling you the other evening about old Shaw? Well, I’ve suddenly thought—’

  She went on to talk shop—Melloid Oil shop. Even though some of it was over Julia’s head, she felt sure it was not of any real importance. Roger made only the briefest comments or replies to what she was saying. Then at a traffic light, he turned and said to her,

  ‘I’d rather not talk about Melloid Oil, if you don’t mind, Celia, and I shall get all the news while I’m at home.’

  After this, Celia lapsed into silence, and as Roger barely spoke for the next fifty or sixty miles, it was a most uneasy journey. They stopped at a wayside hotel for tea and as Julia had anticipated, when they came out to resume the journey, Celia announced that she would sit in the front passenger seat, and did so without waiting to hear whether Julia agreed or not.

  Julia fervently hoped that they would not have Celia’s company on the return journey and was heartily thankful when Roger stopped the car outside a flat in Croydon and got out to reach for Celia’s suitcase.

  Celia stepped slowly out on to the pavement. ‘You’ll come up and have a drink, won’t you, darling?’ Julia heard her say.

  There was a momentary pause from Roger. ‘I’ll carry up your case for you, but you know I can’t linger. We have a long way to go yet.’

  He took her arm and they walked towards the house. Celia did not even glance at Julia, who stared after the two, a mixture of feelings. She was not hurt by the other girl’s rudeness, but she did confess to a feeling she could only describe as disappointment that a man like Roger Leighton could ever have been remotely in love with someone so lacking in ordinary good manners.

  It seemed quite a long time before Roger re-emerged. ‘Sorry for the delay,’ he said as he took his seat behind the wheel once more. ‘I’m afraid it will be dark before I get you home.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ she told him, beginning to feel something of a nuisance. ‘But you needn’t drive me all the way home. You can drop me off at Sevenoaks or Maidstone. I can easily get either a bus or train the rest of the way.’

  ‘Which is the nearest?’

  ‘Maidstone.’

  But when they reached Maidstone it was pouring with rain and Roger said he might as well drive her the whole of the way home, brushing all her protestations aside. She gave him route directions as they went along, and as soon as he drew up outside the house, the front door opened.

  ‘You will come in and meet Mother and Father, won’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  As she embraced first her mother, then her father, Julia realized how very homesick she had been. Tears pricked her eyes and she felt as though she had been absent from home for years. Roger was introduced, and Helen Barclay invited him into the living room.

  ‘I know you won’t want to be delayed too long,’ she said, rather cleverly forestalling him, ‘but do come in and sit down for a few minutes at any rate.’

  ‘Thank you, I will,’ Roger answered.

  Julia’s mother led the way while her husband took his daughter’s coat and went to hang it up. Julia glanced around the familiar living room with its comfortable chesterfield suite, the white-painted bookshelves crammed with books, the flowers which her mother loved, and the various plants her mother grew herself either from seed or cuttings. It was good to be home.

  ‘Come and sit here beside the fire,’ her mother invited Roger. ‘And perhaps you’d like a glass of sherry.’ But Roger declined. ‘No, no, please don’t trouble, Mrs. Barclay. I can only stay a minute, and I’d much rather just sit and talk to you. This is a most pleasant room.’

  ‘It’s comfortable,’ Helen Barclay conceded, then went on to ask him about his own home.

  ‘I don’t live with my parents as Julia does,’ he told them, and Julia was not really surprised to learn this. ‘I have my own flat. Or at least, I did. After this week-end I shall let it to the man who has taken my place in the oil company.’

  This gave Helen Barclay a chance to comment on the change he had made buying a boat-hire business. He smiled, and Julia noticed how more and more relaxed he was becoming.

  ‘It’s peaceful beyond measure,’ he said.

  Julia laughed. ‘You won’t find it so very peaceful when the holiday-makers begin to arrive!’

  But she realized that he had meant a different kind of peace than the one she had implied. He gave her a look, but made no answer, and she wondered again what had happened to make him want to change one kind of life for such a completely different one. Had it been anything to do with Celia?

  Further speculation was impossible at that moment. Her father came in with some coffee.

  ‘I thought you might just have time for a cup before you leave,’ he said. ‘Unless, of course, we can prevail upon you to stay and have dinner with us.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid if I stay to dinner I shall be tempted to linger still longer, and I’ve arranged to meet someone around nine-thirty. But a cup of coffee would be most welcome.’

  Julia flashed a grateful look at her father. He always knew exactly the right thing to do. Why had it seemed so urgent that she should own the boat-hire business? Why hadn’t she simply come back home? It appeared so absurd, so unnecessary now.

  After about another quarter of an hour of pleasant conversation Roger rose to leave.

  ‘I’m so glad we’ve had the opportunity of meeting you, Mr. Leighton,’ Helen Barclay said as she shook hands with him. ‘And I hope we shall see you again before long.’

  ‘Monday morning to be exact, Mrs. Barclay,’ he said smiling. ‘I’m calling for Julia to take her back to Norfolk, otherwise she might not have come back at all, the comfortable home she has.’

  His joke was well received, at least by Julia’s parents. Julia herself was not quite sure about it. He had sounded almost possessive, and she did not want her mother and father to get a wrong impression of their relationship. As it was, her mother said, ‘We’ll let Julia see you off.’

  The rain had ceased now, but Roger would not let her come out. They stood in the vestibule for a few minutes, and Julia thanked him for bringing her home.

  ‘It’s been a pleasure,’ he answered. ‘You have very nice folks, and it was good to meet them. I don’t know how you can bear to be away for such long periods.’

  This seemed to her like an accusation, a very justifiable one, but she did not appreciate it coming from him.

  ‘It makes coming home all the greater pleasure,’ she told him. ‘And perhaps it will be possible to manage a mid-week visit during the summer. I have my longer holiday during the autumn.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ll be here around ten o’clock on Monday morning, then.
Make the most of the week-end.’

  Naturally, when she went back into the house, Roger came under discussion for a few minutes, and equally naturally, her mother went to her room for a little chat just before Julia put out her light.

  ‘Well, dear, how are you really?’ she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking searchingly into her face. ‘Better than you were?’

  Julia knew it was no use pretending with her mother. It was not her health which was being enquired about, it was her happiness.

  ‘I’m better, Mother, truly.’

  Helen Barclay smiled. ‘Yes, I believe you are—and how much of it is due to Mr. Leighton—to Roger?’

  Julia frowned a little. ‘Mother, just because he brought me home, don’t run away with the idea that he—that he and I—He was coming to this part of the country, anyway.’

  ‘Maybe, but he need not have included you in the trip if he hadn’t wanted to. You know, I’m glad now that you didn’t succeed in buying the boat business yourself. It would have been a big responsibility for you and a great tie, as well as taking all your money. As it is, you’re still working with boats, you haven’t the responsibility, you can leave any time you like and you still have a little money. And last, but not least, you’ve met someone else.’

  ‘Mother!’ remonstrated Julia. ‘Because you’ve taken a liking to him, which you obviously have, that doesn’t mean there’s anything special between him and me. He’s merely my boss.’

  ‘All right, dear, if you say so. But a person can still be important to you and change your life a great deal without necessarily becoming a permanent part of it. And I think you needed someone like Roger to shift the focus of your thinking away from the past.’

  Julia knew what her mother was trying to say. She had needed someone with Roger’s strong personality to help her to forget David, though a romantic attachment was not essential. But forget was not the right word. She would never forget David. She had loved him too well.

  Watching her face, her mother touched her hand. ‘My dear, I know what David meant to you, and a period of grieving—of still reaching out—is natural, but it’s all too easy to live in the past, to become obsessed by it.’

  Julia smiled faintly and nodded. ‘I know.’

  Helen Barclay rose and bent to kiss her daughter’s cheek. ‘Bless you. Good-night, then, and sleep well. It’s lovely to have you home again, if only for a short stay.’

  Julia put out her light and settled down to sleep, but it did not come easily. Her mind was occupied with so many things. Her mother had so nearly hit on the truth. Roger Leighton had already had some effect on her thinking. She could never feel the same about him as she had about David and there was no question of his ever taking David’s place even if he himself had the inclination—which he certainly had not. But there was no denying the fact that for the first time since David’s death she had found herself interested in what another man thought of her and was beginning to feel free of the pain which had bound her to David’s memory. She thought of Celia Palmer, and became more and more convinced that she and Roger had been in love and had quarrelled. It was obvious that Celia had gone to Norfolk specially to see Roger, and though he might still be angry with her, she was still very much in his mind.

  Julia told herself that his private life was nothing to do with her, and plumped up a pillow which had become as hard as a rock, but it was his face and not David’s which was etched upon her mental vision as she closed her eyes in sleep.

  The week-end passed all too quickly. Shopping with her mother on Saturday morning, lunch in town, and after more shopping in the afternoon, a high tea at home and a theatre in the evening. A lazy day on Sunday with a drive out to the orchards with her father in the afternoon and visiting friends in the evening. It was while she and her father walked for a little while among the still leafless apple trees that her father said:

  ‘If you ever feel you want to come home, you know, Julia, I could do with your help. I’ve got a new girl in the office, and your work has more or less become split among three other people, including myself, but there are so many things I now have to think about for which you used to take responsibility. Having other people to work for you isn’t the same as having your own. And needless to say, I’ve missed you as a daughter, too. It was pretty good having you around the place, though I realize, of course, that I could never have hoped to keep you at home for ever. Anyway, if you want to come back, don’t think for a moment that you’d be doing anyone else out of a job.’

  Julia squeezed his hand. ‘Thanks, Father. You’re the best there is. I might take you up on that. I’ll have to see how things work out with Roger Leighton and myself. When the boatyard gets busy I might find I don’t like working for him, after all. On the other hand he could very soon tire of the country life and go back to being an oil magnate—or whatever the term is. In which case I presume he’d leave me in charge. At least, I hope he would.’

  ‘And then you’d be happy to stay in Norfolk indefinitely—and possibly marry and settle down there?’

  Julia shrugged lightly. ‘I expect I shall marry one day, though at the moment—’

  ‘Still can’t quite accept the idea of putting anyone in David’s place?’ her father asked quietly.

  ‘Something like that, I suppose. But I must say, I seem to get more homesick rather than less as time goes on.’

  Tom Barclay flashed her a smile. ‘They say “home is where your heart is”, don’t they? See how you feel at the end of the summer. By then you might feel there’s nothing to keep you in Norfolk.’

  Julia wondered. Perhaps her mother had been right. She had been obsessed by the past which concerned David. Perhaps by the end of the summer she might be glad to leave Norfolk and the boatyard.

  On Monday morning Roger called at precisely the hour he said he would, and after a quick cup of coffee to send them on their way, they said goodbye to Julia’s parents and set off on their journey back to Norfolk.

  After a while, Roger said with insight: ‘I hope your week-end didn’t unsettle you too much.’

  She gave him an amused glance. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Of course. I wouldn’t like to have to start hunting round for someone to take your place.’

  Julia felt rather deflated, but she said swiftly, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t leave you in the lurch. I’d stay on until at least the end of the season.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re thinking of doing so?’ he asked sharply.

  She laughed briefly. ‘Why, no, not necessarily. I mean—simply that, having decided to stay on, if at some time in the future I should change my mind and want to go back home and work for my father, then the end of the season is the time I would choose.’

  ‘I see. But if you had succeeded in buying Wingcraft, you wouldn’t even have considered leaving Norfolk, providing the business remained flourishing.’

  ‘I suppose not. But none of us can say with any certainty what we’re going to do six months hence, can we?’ she countered. ‘By the end of the summer you might decide you’ve had enough yourself.’

  ‘What makes you say that—wishful thinking?’

  A swift frown creased her forehead. ‘That’s—not quite fair, is it?’

  The element of truth had found a raw spot, and she was hurt that he should have made the point.

  ‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’ he pressed relentlessly. ‘Aren’t you rather hoping that I’ll get fed up or something like that and leave a .clear field for you?’

  She felt her cheeks colouring from the unwarranted attack. She would have offered to resign immediately, but she thought he had genuinely meant it when he said he didn’t want to start looking for someone to take her place. She could only suppose that he had had a trying week-end. She thought for a moment longer. Was she still hoping he would want to sell the business in about six months’ time? Honestly, she wasn’t, she decided, if only for his sake, because if he did, it would mean that he had failed or had found that he ha
ted the country life. Or even that Celia had persuaded him to go back to the oil company. And that, for some reason, she would find the worst.

  ‘No,’ she answered quietly. ‘That is not what I’m hoping.’

  Her answer brought a silence. He took advantage of a red traffic light to turn and look searchingly at her. She met his gaze calmly, but she had the feeling that he was not altogether convinced of her sincerity. He drove in silence for quite a long time, and she did not speak, either. She tried to put her finger on the reason for the small knot of pain deep within her. Was it disappointment that the promising friendly relationship between them was fading, or had already faded? How were they going to work together happily if he did not trust her, if he thought she was waiting for his defeat? It was a very difficult position. She couldn’t very well keep changing her mind about staying on even though she was not looking forward to the months ahead. But perhaps he would learn to trust her as time went on, and as soon as the holiday season was in full swing they would be too busy to cut across each other a great deal.

  ‘Would you like another coffee or shall we carry on until lunch-time?’ His voice pierced her musings. ‘Whichever you feel like will be all right by me.’

  Was it her imagination or was there a conciliatory note in his voice? Julia glanced at the car clock which showed a little after eleven.

  ‘Lunch will do fine,’ she answered.

  ‘Sure?’