The Man in Possession

by Hilda Pressley

  ‘Just a moment, Mr. Sheldrake!’ she called out. ‘I think Bob should go with you. You can better show him where the fault is. We don’t want a second breakdown.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ was the man’s answer.

  Bob Winters did not altogether like the idea of going with the engineer, but Julia made him see that it was both best and wisest.

  ‘And I don’t think you could hurt that man’s feelings—or pride. I don’t think he cares two hoots about anything,’ she added.

  As the two men drove away Celia emerged from the houseboat looking fresh and attractive in a sleeveless shift dress, making Julia feel very workaday in her jeans and shirt blouse. Nevertheless, she forced a smile.

  ‘Morning, Celia. Have you had breakfast?’

  ‘If you call a cup of tea breakfast, yes. Where’s Roger?’

  ‘In his office. Would you like me to come and cook something for you?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’ll go across to the house and make coffee for Roger and myself.’

  Julia crossed to the houseboat knowing she would have to straighten things up. Celia was not a very tidy person and Julia tried not to be too critical of her, but it wasn’t easy, especially when she was pointedly excluded as she had been just now. As she made Celia’s bed and cleared the table Julia had to fight down resentment very hard indeed.

  She heard the telephone ringing loudly from the outside extension bell. After a few minutes it stopped, so she concluded that Roger was answering it. She glanced through the window of the houseboat and saw him come to the door. He called out and beckoned to her.

  ‘It’s for you,’ he said as she hurried across to the office.

  Celia appeared at his side, and together they walked across to the house. Julia was not sure how much longer she could stand this. She picked up the receiver from her desk to find it was Max at the other end of the line.

  ‘How’d you get on last night?’ he enquired. ‘Sorry I couldn’t wait until you got back, but I didn’t know how long you were going to be.’

  She told him briefly how Roger and she had managed to ease the cruiser off the mud of Breydon Water and into the channel and how good Roger had been.

  ‘And I suppose the blame for the engine failure rests squarely on the shoulders of Tony Sheldrake?’

  ‘Well, the engines are his responsibility,’ she pointed out. Then she added: ‘Or were.’

  ‘You don’t mean you’ve given the poor so-and-so the sack?’

  ‘He leaves on Friday.’

  ‘Good lord, that’s a bit much, isn’t it? You certainly don’t believe in giving second chances, do you?’

  Julia coloured, but she stuck her ground. ‘That’s not true. And Tony Sheldrake has had plenty of second chances. We have our reputation to consider.’

  ‘We? You talk as though you’re in partnership or something with Leighton.’

  He said it as if the possibility was too remote to take seriously.

  ‘One doesn’t have to be in partnership to feel responsible,’ Julia told him. ‘And I must ring off now, Max. I have things to do.’

  ‘Okay. Well I’ll drop round and see you this evening,’ he said lightly, and without waiting to hear whether she agreed or not, he said goodbye and rang off.

  She sat down at her desk and tried to deal with the correspondence. She thought and half hoped that Roger would come and ask her to have coffee with him and Celia, but he didn’t. He waited until Bob Winters and Tony Sheldrake returned, heard their report on the engine trouble, then sought her out and told her he was taking Celia out to lunch.

  With a heavy sigh Julia went to have a few words with Bob Winters herself.

  ‘What was the trouble, Bob?’ she asked him.

  ‘Dirt in the injector,’ he told her. ‘For some reason or other the filter wasn’t in. Tony swears he didn’t leave it out—and it’s not the sort of thing an engineer would forget to put in, still less take out. You see,’ he enlarged, ‘once the filter is in place, it’s rarely necessary to look at the thing again—or maybe once during the season to clean it out.’

  Julia gave a puzzled frown. ‘I don’t quite understand. Surely it’s a part of the engine and the question of taking out or putting in—except to clean it—shouldn’t arise. And if what you say is correct—and I’m sure it is—either somebody took it out to clean and did forget to put it back, or else took it out deliberately.’

  ‘Somebody who knows nothing about engines could have been—messing about and thought it wasn’t important,’ Bob suggested tentatively.

  ‘Who? The hirers?’ She shook her head. ‘Mr. Leighton asked them last night if they’d done anything to the engine, and they said they hadn’t, beyond taking a general look—and seeing nothing obviously wrong. In any case, they’re not given any tools, so they couldn’t.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Then who—’

  Bob Winters turned away. ‘I’d rather not say any more, Miss Barclay. Sheldrake tells me he’s leaving on Friday, anyway, so we might just as well forget the whole business.’

  ‘Not entirely, Bob,’ she said quietly. ‘From now until Friday I’d like you to supervise him closely.’ He nodded. ‘That’s what I’m here for anyway.’ Julia puzzled all day, on and off, about what Bob had told her. He had been reluctant to let her believe that Tony Sheldrake would leave out or take out the filter deliberately. Yet he had said himself that it was not the sort of thing an engineer would forget. But why should Sheldrake do such a thing? In the end, rather than think the worst of him, she forced herself to the conclusion that he had taken it out to clear it and only thought he had put it back again. The man did not appear to be unduly upset about leaving, she told herself, and she would be glad to see him go.

  She did not see very much of Roger for the rest of the day, although that wasn’t really surprising. By common consent Monday was regarded as his day off, and Wednesday hers, neither being very busy days. But so often he did not take it, and nor did she in the sense that they went out a great deal. But today he rang after lunch to say that he and Celia would not be back until late evening.

  ‘We’ve decided to make a day of it,’ he said. ‘There’s so much more of Norfolk Celia hasn’t seen—and it’s such a lovely day.’

  It was a lovely day. It was warm, there was barely a cloud in the sky, thrushes were feeding their young, butterflies flitted to and fro among the tall grass in the meadow, and the air was filled with the sound of bird song and the perfume of roses from nearby gardens. A lovely, lovely day, except that for Julia there was no music in her heart, only desolation, and in her sky, dark clouds. She tried to thrust thoughts of Roger and Celia out of her mind, but the day dragged as she answered the telephone, dealt with enquiries, let out day boats for hire, and did general odd jobs around the boatyard. Though she had not really been looking forward to Max coming, she found she was almost glad to see him when he arrived about seven.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ she asked him.

  ‘Well, I had tea about a couple of hours ago. I’ll peck a little more, if you’re inviting me. Or could we go out somewhere?’

  ‘No, I’d rather not leave the place, in case something happens. I haven’t eaten much myself since lunch, so if fruit juice and a ham salad will suit, then cheese and biscuits—’

  ‘Sounds great. Lead me to it!’

  The meal did not take long to serve. Not wanting to eat alone again, Julia had hoped Max would join her, and had the salad all prepared in the little refrigerator of the houseboat, the fruit juice ready chilled. Max kept up a chatter of generalities for which she was grateful, even though she only half heard some of it. But when he said suddenly, ‘The two lovebirds out for the evening?’ her heart twisted painfully.

  ‘If you’re referring to Roger and Celia, I’d hardly call them that,’ she answered after a pause.

  He eyed her shrewdly. ‘My dear girl, why don’t you face it? She’s twisting him around her little finger. You don’t suppose she’s here just for the good o
f her health, do you? And if he wasn’t encouraging her, she wouldn’t still be here. Now would she, I ask you?’

  Julia held her breath, then let it out swiftly. ‘You’re only guessing, Max, aren’t you? In any case it’s none of our business.’

  ‘No? It could be. And I’m not guessing entirely. I was talking to Celia for about a couple of hours last night while you and dear Roger were rescuing the cruiser, and she told me quite a lot—in a roundabout way. They had an unholy row back in London, but they’re rapidly becoming reconciled. He wants her to come and live here, of course, that’s why he’s having the house done up. But she prefers London and she’s hoping to lure him back there.’

  Julia made no answer. What was there she could say? Max was only confirming what she already felt certain of in her own mind, at least with regard to the way Roger felt about Celia. But Max went on talking.

  ‘Of course, if she succeeds—and I’m sure she will because a woman usually gets her own way in the end if a man loves her—then that’s where you’ll come in.’

  ‘I?’ she asked sharply.

  She put two plates of ham and salad on the table, then sat down and pushed the plate of brown bread and butter towards him.

  Max looked at her for a few minutes, then said emphatically: ‘Yes, you. Or have you changed your mind completely about wanting this place?’

  Julia did not answer immediately. Was it possible that ownership of the boatyard had once meant so much to her? She had been so sure that Roger had settled down here, that Celia would join him here when they were married. She had not thought of the possibility of Celia persuading him back to London. If it did happen, would she want to make him an offer to stay on, after all? She shook her head vigorously, feeling dangerously near to tears.

  ‘No. No, I wouldn’t want to stay on now, whether Celia persuaded him or not.’

  ‘You’ve quite made up your mind, then?’ asked Max eyeing her keenly.

  ‘Max, I’ve told you—’ she burst out raggedly. ‘Just as soon as I reasonably can, I’m going back home. And now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it any more.’

  Max shrugged and began to eat. ‘You do get yourself het up about things, don’t you? Maybe you would be happier “down on the farm” at that.’

  Again Julia made no reply. Max had no idea how she felt about Roger. He had made tentative guesses, but how could she explain to anyone, even if she wanted to, the depth of her feelings? If he had even the smallest conception he would not speak that way—as if she were ‘het up ‘about nothing. Was it nothing to be in love with a man and watch him with another woman? It was going to be difficult enough to forget him with a hundred miles or so between them, but here, at the boatyard, she would be for ever reminded. It was odd that she had not wanted to forget David, but though she loved Roger far more deeply she felt the memory of him would always be more of a pain than a joy.

  Max asked her how the building of the first of the new auxiliaries was getting on, and she told him that a good start had been made.

  ‘Everything going according to plan—or in this case design?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t it?’ she asked sharply.

  ‘I’m only asking out of interest,’ he protested at her tone. ‘I don’t know what’s come over you these days, Julia.’

  She felt ashamed. There really was no reason why she should let her unhappiness spill over on to Max.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid things are getting me down a little. Let’s have some music, shall we?’

  She put on a record and tried to ease the weight of depression, but long after she wished Max would go, he stayed on. She was so physically tired, she was almost dropping to sleep when the sound of a car was heard outside.

  Max grinned. ‘Your lodger, I expect. I think I’d better go now. It’s late.’

  He stood up and so did Julia to see him off. Then to her surprise he suddenly pulled her towards him and before she could stop him he took her in his arms and kissed her firmly on the lips. For a moment she couldn’t move, he was holding her so tightly and so close to him. Then the door opened and Celia stood there. Max laughed and let Julia go abruptly, and through the window she saw Roger turn away. He got into his car again and drove it towards his garage.

  Celia gave an amused smile. ‘Well, well. Sorry I butted in. I didn’t realize—’

  ‘It’s all right. I was just going,’ Max said casually. ‘‘Night, Julia darling. Be seeing you. ‘Night, Celia.’ He was gone before Julia could say a word. The whole thing had happened so swiftly. She drew an angry breath.

  ‘Really, Max makes me so angry!’ she exploded.

  Celia laughed. ‘I don’t see anything to be angry about. Max is a very attractive man. Why don’t you marry him? I feel sure he’s asked you.’

  ‘I don’t happen to be in love with him,’ Julia answered.

  Celia continued to smile. ‘Pity. Still, you could do worse. I don’t know that it’s so necessary to be in love with the man you marry.’

  Julia stared at her. ‘How can you say such a thing? Aren’t you in love with—’ She stopped short, suddenly realizing that she had very little to go on and that she was probably jumping to a great many conclusions about Roger and Celia.

  But Celia took her up. ‘With Roger, you were going to say? Of course. But more important still is that he is crazy about me.’

  Julia felt she would suffocate. She filled the kettle and set it on the cooker to boil.

  ‘Why—is that more important?’ she asked jerkily. ‘I would have thought your own feelings were the more important to you.’

  Celia shook her head. ‘No, no. To be very much in love with a man makes a woman too vulnerable. The thing is to have a man who really is gone on you.’

  Julia was staggered. ‘You just have to be joking, Celia.’

  But Celia merely laughed. ‘I want Roger, make no mistake about that. And I mean to have him. As a matter of fact, he’s asked me to marry him, but I haven’t given him my answer yet.’

  ‘Why not?’ Julia forced herself to ask.

  ‘To keep him guessing, of course. It’s good for a man.’

  Julia felt she could bear this kind of talk no longer. ‘Do you want a drink, Celia, or anything to eat?’

  Celia yawned. ‘No, thanks. I’ve had plenty to eat and drink all evening. I’m ready to go to bed now.’ Julia was thankful at last to see the dividing door between Celia and herself, but tired as she was, she felt she would not be able to settle down to sleep without a little air. She slipped a jacket over her shoulders and went outside. The air was sweet and fresh. She stood for a moment to adjust her eyes to the darkness and took a few long breaths, expelling deeply as if the act would clear her heart and mind of the pain and agony of loving a man who was in love with someone else.

  She walked towards the water, now black as the sky above. What was she going to do? To get right away from the scene was the obvious answer. But wouldn’t that be rather selfish? Roger had no idea how she felt and she could not possibly tell him. What earthly reason could she give him for leaving in the middle of the season? She couldn’t let him down just to spare her own feelings.

  Suddenly she halted as she saw a shadow by the boathouse which was being used for the work on the new craft. Who could it possibly be at this hour? Frank and his team were not working all night and no one was allowed in there except the workmen and Roger and .herself. She called out and her heart contracted violently as Roger himself answered.

  ‘Julia?’ he counter-questioned sharply. ‘What on (earth are you doing out here?’ As he spoke he walked towards her and when he reached her side it was apparent, even in the dim light from the stars and the houseboat some yards away, that he was displeased about something. Unhappy because Celia was making him wait for his answer? But at the moment he was waiting for her own.

  ‘I’m—just getting a breath of fresh air,’ she told him. He turned and looked towards the black velvet of the river.


  ‘Been cooped up all evening, have you?’ he asked in a strange voice.

  ‘Well, yes. Max came, and I hadn’t eaten, so we had a meal together.’

  ‘Very cosy, I must say.’

  His tone sent a swift stab of pain through her heart. ‘You disapprove?’

  Through the window he had seen Max kissing her, of course, and doubtless thought they had spent the whole evening lovemaking.

  ‘It’s none of my business what you do when you’re not working for me,’ he answered brusquely.

  This was even worse. She almost burst into tears. She wanted what she did to be his business.

  ‘All the same,’ he continued, ‘I think it would be better if you could find somewhere else to live other than the boatyard. Couldn’t you find a flat?’

  He couldn’t have hurt her more if he had dealt her a physical blow. But now she was beyond tears. She rounded on him.

  ‘So you want to get rid of me, do you? Well, don’t worry, Mr. Leighton, you’ll soon be rid of me altogether. I was going to leave at the end of the season in any case, but in view of what happened tonight—’

  He grasped her by the shoulders. ‘I want to get rid of you? Don’t talk such nonsense. And why were you going to leave at the end of the season? Not because you’re going to marry that no-good Max Windham. That I would not believe.’

  ‘And why not?’ she flashed back, hardly aware of what she was saying, aware only of his hands bruising her shoulders.

  ‘Because you’re not in love with him, that’s why. You’re in love with a ghost, aren’t you? A ghost called David who—’