It would depend on what she wants and when she wants it,’ she answered without enthusiasm.
‘As she would be coming alone, I think a houseboat with a launch would meet her requirements. She had a look at one or two of them and thought them very smart and comfortable.’
‘I very much doubt if there’s a houseboat unbooked during the main holiday season,’ she told him—‘though of course, it does sometimes happen that there’s a cancellation at the last minute.’
She couldn’t help feeling that she ought to offer accommodation to Celia in her own houseboat, but she baulked at the idea. Why, she wasn’t sure. She was not normally inhospitable, and she could hardly say she disliked Celia. She did not knew her well enough except that she felt deceiving Roger about her arrival in Norwich and her friendship with Max was not very good. But whatever the reason, the thought of Celia staying for weeks in one the houseboats, strolling around the boatyard, going in and out of Roger’s office and spending time in the house depressed her utterly.
About an hour later they brought the half-decker in to moor again and went through the business of making the boat secure, furling the sail and fastening on the cover for the night. This done, Roger thanked her for coming, said goodnight and strode away without lingering in the least, leaving Julia haunted with the thought that he was probably displeased because she hadn’t offered hospitality to Celia.
Loneliness settled even more heavily upon her as she prepared her solitary evening meal, read a book and watched a little television. It was a truism, she thought when she put out her light to go to sleep, that man was not meant to live alone. During the summer when there was plenty of activity even until quite late, it was not so bad, but she really would have to do something about her present state at the end of the season, find someone with whom to share a flat, perhaps. She thought of Roger alone in his house. But undoubtedly he would not be alone for such longer. Then Celia would be in and around the boatyard and coming and going day after day, week after week, year after year. Julia turned restlessly. In that event she did not think she would stay a moment longer than she had to.
Reluctantly, the next day, Julia examined the bookings of the houseboats and did not know whether she felt relieved or not that they were all booked up.
‘I could try some of the other boatyards,’ she suggested to Roger.
As she expected, he shook his head. ‘I’m quite sure she wouldn’t like that.’
Julia was sure, too. There was no help for it. She said the only thing she felt she possibly could say. ‘She could—share my houseboat for a week or two if—’ She broke off. From his expression it was difficult to say whether the idea pleased him or not. Certainly he was not smiling.
‘That’s very noble of you,’ he said. ‘But it’s up to you, of course. Don’t feel under an obligation of any kind.’
He passed through to his own office and she gazed after him uncertainly. One might almost think he was offended. She sighed raggedly and continued with her work.
Max called for her that evening as arranged, and as she stepped into his car, Roger came out of the house. He looked extremely displeased about something, but Julia thought there was often no accounting for Roger’s pleasures or displeasures.
‘You look as though you might be finding life rather difficult,’ Max remarked, glancing at her face as they drove away.
‘Not really,’ she answered briefly.
‘All the same, I shouldn’t think Leighton is a very easy man to get along with. At least, from what Celia tells me.’
‘I don’t think she ought to talk about him like that. In fact, I find it rather despicable.’
‘Well, she only hinted. It doesn’t take much knowledge of him to be able to put two and two together. I more or less drew her out. I could sense that she wanted to talk—to confide in someone, so to speak.’
‘I didn’t even know you had met each other,’ Julia said. ‘When did you?’
‘A few weeks ago, actually. She was staying in Norwich, and we shared a table at lunch at the hotel. Hers was the only table with a vacant place. Naturally, we got talking, then after lunch I asked her if she’d like to see round our place. She was very impressed, I can tell you.’
Max went on talking and Julia had the impression that he was saying anything and everything that came into his head. But she was only half listening, in any case. She was thinking how odd it was that Max and Celia should have so quickly become friendly, and how disloyal Celia was to Roger. She could not forget the photograph which had dropped on to the study floor, or of the absent-minded way Roger had drawn her face. Surely he must still be in love with her—also she with him. Why else should she be making these visits to Norfolk? On the other hand, why should she have been meeting Max? She would not have thought it necessary to be trying to make Roger jealous. A great deal of what was happening did not make sense.
For a meal they went to one of the country clubs which abounded in Norfolk, especially in the Broads area, and when they had given their order, Max leaned across the table and gave her a long, enquiring look.
‘Well now, my lovely, tell me honestly, how are you finding life with the man in possession, and what’s happening at Wingcraft? Do you really see any chance of his getting fed up and leaving the field clear for you?’
Julia met his gaze and took a deep breath and shook her head.
‘You can’t seriously expect me to give you clear-cut answers to questions like that?’
He smiled persuasively. ‘You can try. For instance, how is Leighton treating you? I wouldn’t say you’re looking too happy.’
Julia frowned. This was the most difficult question of all to answer. Truthfully, she did not know it herself. She could only touch on the surface.
‘He’s treating me as a colleague,’ she said. ‘In fact we had quite an interesting discussion only the other evening about a new design for an auxiliary.’
Max’s expression alerted. ‘Oh? With what special features?’
But Julia smiled knowingly. ‘You don’t expect me to tell you, do you?’
He grinned. ‘No harm in trying. Anyway, you could trust me, couldn’t you?’
‘No,’ she told him frankly.
He laughed. ‘Whose design was it, anyway? Not his, I shouldn’t think. If it was, I’m sure it wouldn’t be any good.’
‘That’s not fair. How do you know what gifts or knowledge he has?’ she said defensively. ‘Anyway, as it happens, it was mine. And he’s going to use it.’
‘Oh? Having new auxiliaries built, is he?’
‘Yes, he is, I’m pleased to say. More half-deckers, too.’
Max gave a grunt of derision. ‘That shows what a poor hand he is at our business. Sailing is on the way out. People want the comfort and luxury of today’s cruisers. Sailing’s too much like hard work. Most people work hard enough for fifty weeks of the year. They want a rest when they go on holiday. Besides, our weather’s so unreliable.’
‘Exactly, and our new auxiliaries are being designed with that very factor in mind.’
He shrugged. ‘Well, that’s the way to lose money.’
‘I’m glad he isn’t all that mercenary. It’s possible to give a service as well as make money—which is what most business people seem to forget nowadays.’
‘I doubt if putting more sailing craft on the Broads is giving people what they want. In fact, I’m sure it’s not. I expect Leighton is one of those people with heads full of useless ideals. He thinks sails look pretty and he would like to see more sail craft just for the pleasure of seeing them go up and down the river. But why try to foist your own ideals and ideas on to other people?’
‘Sailing craft not only look well on the rivers and Broads, they’re also quieter,’ Julia reminded him.
‘And they don’t do nearly so much damage to the river banks. ‘
‘That I would dispute, too,’ said Max. ‘But why should I worry? I for one wouldn’t be sorry to see him high-tail it back to where h
e came from, and I would have thought that would suit you, as well.’ He eyed her keenly. ‘But you seem to have lost the ambition you once had for being the owner of Wingcraft—unless—’ He broke off.
‘Unless what?’ Julia prompted quietly.
He grinned rather sheepishly. ‘You’re not the type, of course. But one way of owning the business—or being part-owner, at any rate—would be to marry him.’
Julia drew an angry breath. ‘If you mean I’m not the type to marry for those sort of reasons, you’re so right. You’re right about my ambition, too, I think. It doesn’t seem nearly so imperative that I should own Wingcraft.’ Her anger subsided. ‘But enough about our boatyard. What about yours? All ready for the season?’
‘Oh, yes,’ he answered a little gloomily. ‘The first batch of happy holiday-makers went off on Saturday, and next Saturday we have a dozen or more ditto. How I hate Saturday mornings. The stuff some of the clients bring with them—and mostly just for a week—is fantastic. Transistors, guitars, packages and parcels containing heaven knows what, whacking great suitcases—’
‘Why not? It’s their holiday,’ Julia pointed out. ‘It’s you who’d be the poorer if they didn’t come.’
He gave a grunt of derision. ‘Maybe, maybe not. I’ve told you before what it’s like being the boss’s son. You’re just a dogsbody around the place.’
‘Oh, Max, you’re exaggerating,’ she protested, though she had known for some time that he found it irksome working for his father.
‘Am I?’
There was a note of bitterness in his voice she had never heard until now. But before she could either frame words of sympathy or suggest he did something about it, his mood changed.
He smiled and gave a shrug. ‘I’m sorry. I am being a wet blanket, aren’t I?’ He broke off as a waiter approached. ‘Ah, here comes the food. Let’s eat, drink and be merry, as the saying goes.’
He waited until they had been served and were eating before saying:
‘So Leighton does have ideas of expanding?’
She nodded. ‘A man like him would hardly be content to stand still.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But I wouldn’t have thought he’d go in for something that wasn’t going to bring him sure returns. Is he going to take on more hands, build more sheds—things like that? He’ll need to.’
Julia hesitated, reluctant to discuss her employer’s plans, and yet there was nothing really secret in the fact of a firm expanding their business.
She compromised. ‘He has quite a number of longterm plans, but his only immediate ones are to take on one or two more men and start building more craft.’
‘What sort of men is he taking on? Another boat-builder?’ queried Max.
She shook her head. ‘No, Frank Willis will be carrying on with the boat-building side, and Roger—’
‘Roger?’ interposed Max, his eyes widening suddenly. ‘So you’re on Christian name terms now, are you?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘Why not? It’s easier, isn’t it—when you’re working with anyone.’
‘Even when one happens to be the boss?’
‘It was his suggestion. In any case—’
He gave an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry. I was a bit surprised, that’s all. But I interrupted you. You were about to say?’
She had almost lost her trend of thought. ‘Well, he talked of a marine engineer and a yard foreman so that Frank could work on the boat-building without so many interruptions.’
Max grimaced. ‘He means business, apparently. But I would have thought you were capable of looking after the boatyard. You and old Hargreaves managed between you last season. What’s Leighton—I beg your pardon—Roger going to do? Sit in his office all day or just walk around with his hands in his pockets?’
Julia carefully controlled a rising anger. Never again would she come out for an evening with Max. She could not stand his continual criticisms of Roger Leighton.
‘He is the boss,’ she pointed out tepidly. ‘He is entitled to do as he pleases, I imagine. Time alone will tell, of course, but he doesn’t strike me as being the kind who will be content to do either of the things you mention.’
Max took a sip of his wine. ‘You’re always very ready to spring to his defence these days. How do you know that bringing in a foreman isn’t the thin end of the wedge as far as you’re concerned? The next thing will be a manager. He’s just using you at the moment because you know the business. As soon as he begins to feel his feet you’ll be relegated to the role of office girl, and if you try managing things he’ll get rid of you.’
Julia put down her knife and fork. Max had so nearly expressed her own half-formed fears it was more than she could take.
‘Max, do you mind if we talk about something else other than the boatyard? It’s all so much useless speculation anyway. I shall stay on at Wingcraft just for as long as I’m reasonably happy and contented. In any case, I shall think very seriously of going back home at the end of the season.’
‘The very fact of your talking in those terms is an indication that you’re not happy,’ insisted Max.
The sweets trolley was brought to them, and Julia chose with little interest. She did not know whether she was happy or not. What was happiness? She had been happy at home, she decided, and she had been deliriously happy knowing David. Now—
She ate the last spoonful of her sweet without tasting it, and as soon as they had had their coffee she said she’d like to go home. Max raised his eyebrows and shot a look of enquiry at her, but said nothing. Julia felt miserable without knowing why, and this fact made her feel all the more ragged.
When Max stopped the car near the houseboat, he switched off the headlights and engine and turned to her, resting his arm on the back of the seat.
‘Well, here you are, Julia. Thanks for an enjoyable evening.’
At this she felt conscience-stricken. ‘I’ve cut it a little short, I’m afraid. I’m sorry.’
‘That’s all right. But—as a matter of interest—was I boring you or something?’
‘Of course not.’
‘In that case there’s only one other thing for it. I annoyed you by saying things about Leighton.’
She sighed, ‘Oh, Max, please don’t start again!’
His arm slid across her shoulders. ‘You know why I don’t like the man, don’t you?’
She moved restlessly. ‘Well, no, I don’t. He hasn’t done you any harm.’
‘Maybe not—yet. But he did snatch Wingcraft from you, didn’t he? Apart from that, I’m jealous of him.’
She looked at him in amazement. ‘Jealous of him? What on earth do you mean?’
‘He sees more of you than I do for one thing. And for another, I have the feeling that you’re becoming rather smitten with him.’
Julia felt a sharp stab of something like pain. But she rejected Max’s suggestion swiftly.
‘Really, Max, you are being silly tonight. If I’ve defended him it’s been out of no other motive than ordinary loyalty. And fairness.’
‘All right,’ he said in a resigned voice.
He leaned towards her with the obvious intention of kissing her, but Julia shrank from the idea and pushed him away.
‘No, please, Max. I—just don’t feel like it. I’m sorry. Thanks very much for the dinner. It was a lovely meal, but I’ll say goodnight now if you don’t mind.’
He removed his arm without a word and reached out for the ignition. It was easy to see she had annoyed him, which wasn’t really surprising. But Julia felt it would be useless to offer further apology. She opened the car door and stepped out.
‘Goodnight, Max—’
His reply was scarcely audible. Before she had time to insert her key in the lock of the houseboat he had started up the engine and reversed out of the boatyard.
Julia sighed deeply. How complicated life was! Or seemed. Strictly speaking she ought to be more happy and more contented than she was. The overwhelming grief she had known wi
th David’s death had passed. It had had to. One simply does not go on grieving deeply for ever, even for one’s very nearest and dearest. One has to learn to live, even though one never forgets. She would always have a special place in her heart for David. No, it was not because of David’s death that she felt restless and at odds with life, that things worried or irritated her which usually would not.
She made a drink and slipped into a housecoat and lay on top of her bed thinking, trying to sort herself out. Perhaps this disturbance of her normally balanced behaviour and outlook on life stemmed from her disappointment with regard to the buying of Wingcraft. She had wanted it so much, she had had so many plans. Her mind went back. Why had she wanted it so badly? Pride of ownership, a desire to be her own boss? But more than these things at the time, she had wanted it for David’s sake, partly because she thought he would want her to have it and partly because she could not bear the thought of anyone taking David’s place. It would sound silly and sentimental to some people, she supposed. And in retrospect, it didn’t make a great deal of sense to herself. She didn’t mind seeing Roger about the place. She felt sure David wouldn’t have, either.
She allowed her mind to dwell on Roger and it dawned upon her that she liked him a very great deal. Yet why was she so constantly stirred up? He was treating her as a colleague, she made as many decisions and worked with the same freedom as she had when Mr. Hargreaves had been alive, and Roger was even putting some of her own plans into operation. She should be happy. All the ingredients were there. All, that was, except—She baulked at the idea that she was not fully happy just because she wanted love and marriage. Only a bare half hour ago, she had repulsed Max. She had liked him well enough until he had begun to criticize Roger so much.
The more she thought of Roger the more she realized what a man after her own heart he was. He was different from David, a more complex character. But he was the kind of man with whom she would go anywhere, venture anything. She would never want to leave him.
Suddenly Julia knew without any shadow of doubt that she was in love with Roger.
The Man in Possession Page 10
