The Man in Possession

by Hilda Pressley

  CHAPTER SIX

  Julia quickly discovered that loving Roger was totally different from the way she had been in love with David. Between David and herself it had been mutual. There had been no pretence, no shyness or misunderstandings, no complications, no other girl. No Celia. She did not even love Roger in the same way. This was a quieter love. At least, for the time being. And more deep. She was like a person who has been given a rare and precious gift. It was not something to shout about, to make public. It was something to cherish. It gave her an undefinable sense of peace, a quietness of spirit. That Roger did not love her seemed not to matter at this stage. She simply accepted the existence of Celia without dwelling too much on the future.

  Roger glanced up from his desk one morning when she took in some letters for him to sign and gave her a long, enquiring look.

  ‘Is anything—wrong, Julia? At least, not wrong, exactly, but—’

  She placed the letters before him. ‘Nothing is wrong—why?’

  ‘I don’t know. But you seem different.’

  She smiled faintly. She was different. ‘Perhaps it’s the rise in the temperature,’ she told him. Then, on a sudden impulse and because she wanted to please him, she said: ‘By the way, I was wondering if you’d like me to write to Celia—to Miss Palmer—and offer her accommodation in the houseboat My houseboat, I mean, of course. After all, if I wasn’t using it, we—you—could be letting it. And it ought really to be earning money. It’s intended for four anyway. Celia could have my cabin and I could sleep on the studio couch. That way I wouldn’t disturb her in the mornings.’ As she spoke she knew in her bones she was making a great mistake, but it was out now and could not be unsaid.

  He did not answer for a moment. He kept his gaze fixed upon her as if trying to read some ulterior motive into what she had said. Then he drew an audible breath as though giving up. He searched among the papers on his desk.

  ‘As a matter of fact I had a letter from her this morning. She still wants to come, so you’d better write to her yourself and offer her the accommodation.’ He found the letter for which he was looking and passed it across the desk. ‘Here’s her address—I’ll leave it to you to turn a blind eye to much of the letter’s contents.’

  He signed the letters, she had already typed and passed those back to her.

  ‘I see our advertisements for foreman, marine engineer and boy are in this morning’s paper,’ he said. ‘I have to go into town later on. If by any chance anyone answers the ads. in person, you can interview them, can’t you? And use your own discretion about taking them on. You’ll be as good as I am—maybe better.’

  She smiled. How could she ever have thought him difficult?’ I’ll leave the particulars on your desk, anyway, if I do take anyone on.’

  He gave her another curious look, and realizing all at once that she was in danger of giving herself away, she turned and went back to her own office. She really must watch herself. If he knew how she felt about him he would almost certainly be embarrassed and they would be quite unable to work together. He simply must not know.

  She sat down at her desk and looked at the letter he had given her written by Celia. She saw the opening—Darling Roger—and could not help catching glimpses of the affectionate terms in which the letter was couched. She compressed her lips against the shafts of pain which went through her heart. What a complete idiot she was to have offered, for the second time, to give hospitality to Celia. She must have been out of her mind. But wasn’t that thinking only of herself? If it would give him some pleasure to have Celia here—

  Was he in love with her, Julia wondered, as she put a sheet of paper in her typewriter, or was she merely jumping to conclusions? Then she remembered the doodle and the photograph, and the answer was pretty conclusive. And why was he going to so much trouble regarding the house unless he had marriage in mind? He would tell her in his own time, she supposed. Celia had already seen over the house. If she were not reasonably sure that Roger loved Celia, Julia’s thoughts went on, she might set about trying to attract him to herself. There were ways in which a woman could convey her feelings to a man and still keep her pride. But even as these thoughts came Julia rejected them. No matter what a woman did in her efforts to win a man there was still no guarantee that the man would fall in love with her. Love was something which could not be forced, and if a man loved a woman he usually found a way of letting her know it.

  Julia tried to put an end to her thoughts about Roger. They were all too painful. Love brought happiness only when it was not demanding. She was not the first woman to love a man who did not love her. She would simply have to come to terms with it. If she could not without leaving, then she would have to leave and there was an end of it.

  She typed a letter to Celia offering her accommodation in her houseboat for a holiday, being careful to exclude the dates on which her parents would be coming. When Roger came through to go out, she showed the letter to him.

  He read it, then handed it back to her. ‘This is most generous of you—but I must warn you, she’s not likely to be very helpful domestically. You’ll probably find yourself doing all the cooking and washing up and generally clearing up after her.’

  ‘That—will be all right,’ Julia answered, the fact that he knew Celia so well registering forcibly.

  He went out saying he wouldn’t be back until after lunch. He had been gone about half an hour when a young man knocked on the office door and said he had come in answer to the advertisement for a marine engineer.

  ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ Julia invited, ‘and I’ll take your particulars. Mr. Leighton is out at the moment, but—’

  ‘I won’t have to come again, will I? It’s difficult to get time off except in my dinner hour.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you’ll have to come back necessarily. We’ll see. First, let me have your name, age and so on.’

  His name was Tony Sheldrake, he had been out of his time for three years and had brought testimonials from three boatyards. They were good without being too glowing—which she would have been inclined to distrust, anyway. But then she noticed something else.

  ‘These aren’t very up-to-date, are they?’ she asked. ‘Where have you been working for the past twelve months? And where are you working now?’

  ‘I’ve been at sea,’ he said quickly. ‘You know how it is. I wanted adventure and thought I’d sign up as a ship’s engineer. But I didn’t much care for it. I decided I’d rather have a shore job. The only thing is I threw my Board of Trade papers away. In any case, I’d have thought three references were enough.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose they are.’

  All three stated that they had found him ‘honest and trustworthy ‘and testified to the work he had been doing on engines of all kinds.

  ‘When would you be able to start?’ she asked.

  ‘Saturday, in time for change-over day, if you want me,’ he answered promptly. ‘I’m doing a one-off job at the moment. A big privately owned cruiser. The man wants it for Friday afternoon. That’s why I can only manage a dinner-hour for an interview.’

  ‘I understand. Perhaps you’d like to see around the boatyard. I’ll introduce you to our present foreman.’

  She found Frank Willis and asked him privately to test the man’s knowledge of marine engines as he showed him round. If he was satisfactory, she could see no good reason for keeping him hanging on for an answer on the off-chance of interviewing more applicants. Roger was anxious to get started on the job of expansion as soon as possible.

  After about ten minutes had elapsed, Frank Willis came in search of her.

  ‘He seems to know his stuff all right. In fact, if the guv’nor were to ask my advice I’d say he’s more knowledgeable about marine engines than George. Still, you need a good man on maintenance, I suppose.’

  ‘But you think he might be better working on the new auxiliaries?’

  ‘Could be, but then George and I have worked together for a good long while and he’s useful
in other ways, too. Doesn’t mind what he turns his hand to.’

  Julia remembered something. ‘Mr. Leighton has said that he doesn’t like breaking up a good team, but I’m glad to have your opinion anyway, Frank. I think we’ll take him on.’ She turned to move away, then halted. ‘You—like him all right otherwise?’

  Frank Willis hesitated. ‘He seems pleasant enough. There’s only one thing puzzles me.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  This business of his being at sea for the past year. It seems odd to me, a man going from one kind of engineering to another like that. They’re not the same.’

  But Julia could see nothing amiss in that. ‘Some people do have a period when they chop and change before settling down. I think he’ll do.’

  Before the week was out a yard foreman had also been engaged, interviewed by Roger himself. A small, roundfaced, cheerful man in his fifties who loved boats and everything connected with them. Roger introduced him to Julia.

  ‘This is Bob Winters, Julia. Until now he’s been general foreman at Cootcraft which, as you know, is changing hands. So Mr. Winters thought he’d make a change, too. Miss Barclay,’ he went on, ‘is my assistant. Anything you want to know, any queries of any kind can be referred to her just as well as to me.’

  Julia silently blessed him. Her fears had been groundless. She was to remain as a sort of manager over all. And they certainly needed a yard foreman, especially on Saturdays, which could be chaotic. When David and Mr. Hargreaves had been alive, one person could barely move from the office for the coming and going of holiday-makers. Saturday still remained the popular day for the start and finish of a holiday. Yachts and cruisers were brought in at ten o’clock and hired again by four at the latest. Between that time the boats had to be cleaned out from stern to stem, all the equipment checked, dirty linen replaced with fresh, the engines overhauled and filled up with fuel, the water tanks refilled, a fresh supply of liquid gas installed and the sailing tackle of the yachts and auxiliaries checked. All this while holiday-makers were coming and going, often getting in the way, those having reached the end of their holiday still not packed, the others anxious to get away before their boat was quite ready. Every available pair of regular hands with the addition of those of several cleaning women were needed on Saturdays.

  Roger even consulted her before he finally engaged Bob Winters, and she herself interviewed a boy to take Andy’s place for general duties.

  ‘Right,’ said Roger, an excited gleam in his eyes. ‘Frank and his team can start right in on clearing out the shed the yachts have been housed in. There’s enough material in stock for the conversion of the two half-deckers and to start the first hull of the new auxiliaries. Meanwhile, you and I have a date for lunch with the man who’s going to draw our design.’

  Suddenly life was good, life was exciting, Celia forgotten. Over lunch the special features of the new auxiliary yacht were discussed and rough sketches drawn until a final draft was decided upon.

  ‘I’ll post it on to you in a couple of days’ time,’ the designer promised.

  Julia felt a deep sense of satisfaction, and her mind winged back to the past.

  ‘David would have been pleased about this,’ she said involuntarily.

  ‘Who is David?’ queried the designer.

  ‘The son of the previous owner of Wingcraft. He and I often discussed a design like this. We put an idea to his father once, but he was reluctant to embark on something which might or might not pay off.’

  ‘I should think this will pay off all right, once people know about it,’ said the designer. ‘But of course it takes time.’

  Roger said nothing. There was a slight frown on his forehead and a thoughtful look on his face.

  ‘Is anything wrong?’ Julia asked him, imagining that he had thought of a snag with regard to the new design.

  He shook his head, but said wearily: ‘It’s nothing that can be put right by drawing a design, at any rate.’

  Julia wondered what he was driving at, and whether it had anything to do with Celia. She felt sure it had, and her day clouded over. It became more and more evident that he had something on his mind. When they had finished lunch he drove back to the boatyard in silence, and for the next few days Julia had very little conversation with him. She fought against hurt feelings. Her whole life, she supposed, would now revolve around him, but she must try not to feel hurt every time he was in a thoughtful mood and not imagine slights where none were intended.

  Slowly, the summer advanced. Each Saturday morning saw the boatyard become more and more hectic as the number of craft being taken out increased. Soon there was not a craft which was not hired either for the week or fortnight, and Frank Willis and his team worked steadily on the conversion of the first of the half-deckers, then on building two others for day-hire, and finally making a start on the auxiliaries. Bob Winters was a splendid man to have about the place, pleasant, conscientious, tolerant with difficult holiday-makers and turning his hand to anything which required doing. The engineer, Tony Sheldrake, was not quite so satisfactory, to Julia’s mind. He was slow, not a very good worker, and was often moody. If Bob Winters had a fault, he was too lenient. Within the first few weeks that the new engineer was with them several of the cruisers had engine trouble, a most unusual occurrence for Wingcraft. When she talked it over with Bob Winters, he told her not to worry.

  ‘These things happen in the best of firms,’ he said. ‘You sometimes get a run of engine troubles. He seems all right, and he’s had plenty of experience.’

  And so Julia said no more at present, but she was determined to keep an eye on the man. It would be only too easy for the firm to lose its good reputation. Wingcraft did have clients who hired their boats year after year, but a ruined holiday could easily mean the loss of a customer in future and she felt responsible to Roger. She felt especially responsible with regard to this man as she had hired him.

  Early in June, the fruit buds having formed in the apple orchards, Julia’s parents came to stay in the houseboat for a week. Except for Saturday mornings, Roger insisted on her taking some time off to be with them, and one evening he took them all out to dinner himself, where there was dancing. Naturally, he and Julia danced together, and Julia stored up the memory of what it was like to be held in his arms. She sensed a restraint in the way he held her at first, then after a while he held her more closely and she gave herself up to the sheer pleasure of his nearness.

  ‘You dance easily,’ he said once during an encore. ‘Have you done a lot?’

  ‘We—ll, on and off, you know, One has spasms. David and I came here once or twice.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ he said slowly.

  She gave him a puzzled look. ‘What do you see?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said abruptly. ‘Let’s sit the rest of this dance out.’

  He led her back to their table, and the next time they danced he held her so lightly and so far away it seemed he was almost afraid to touch her. She wondered why, and was reminded sharply of the existence of Celia.

  A fortnight after her parents had gone back home, Celia was due for her stay in the houseboat. Since the night Max had left her in a huff, Julia had barely seen him, but she had wondered once or twice whether he had seen Celia and, if so, whether Roger was aware of it.

  Oddly enough Max called at the houseboat one evening about three days before Celia’s arrival. It was a pleasant evening, warm enough to take a canvas chair and sit beside the water. Max glanced around at the tubs and troughs of flowers Roger had had placed at intervals along the quaysides and either side of the office door.

  ‘Hello—whose idea was this? Expecting Royalty?’

  ‘It was Roger’s idea—and I think it looks very nice. I wish I’d thought of it myself.’

  He dropped on to the grass beside her chair. ‘How are things? Sorry I haven’t been round before. The old man’s kept my nose to the grindstone. But then I don’t suppose you’ve even missed me, have you?’

&n
bsp; She smiled. ‘I’ve wondered what’s happened to you, yes, but of course I’ve been busy, too.’

  ‘I’m sure you have. How’s work on the new yachts going?’

  ‘Making steady progress,’ she told him briefly.

  ‘And the new hands working all right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He glanced up at her. ‘I did hear that some of your cruisers had been having engine trouble.’

  ‘How on earth did you come to hear of that?’ she queried in surprise.

  ‘Via my grapevine,’ he answered.

  She laughed briefly. ‘It must be an extremely good one.’

  ‘Actually, news does tend to travel rather fast on the Broads, but as a matter of fact I was out in one of our launches when I saw your man doing a spot of repair work.’

  ‘How did you know he was our man?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘How did I—Well, I know your boats, don’t I?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She frowned. ‘You know, I can’t quite make that engineer out. He has good qualifications and all that, but we never used to have trouble with our engines.’

  Max pursed his lips. ‘Can happen,’ he said laconically. ‘Anyway, my sweet love, you’ve only had one season here, haven’t you? I shouldn’t be too hard on the poor man. Maintenance isn’t a very enviable job. He’d probably be better on those new jobs you’re building. Your other man used to be good on maintenance. Thought of swapping them over?’

  Julia said she hadn’t. ‘It’s up to Roger, anyway,’ she added.

  ‘Blast Roger,’ said Max with sudden vehemence.

  Julia glanced at him sharply. ‘Max, don’t start that again.’ He didn’t know she was in love with Roger, of course. All the same—