‘No, no, I’m early.’
Max said little of any consequence until they had almost finished their meal, then he said soberly:
‘What’s been happening at your place, Julia? I saw Tony Sheldrake the other day and he was mighty sore. I understand he had a row with Leighton.’
‘Well, yes, he did, but he was leaving in any case. Did he tell you what the “row” was about?’
Max nodded. ‘Something about the sketch plan of the new auxiliaries Frank Willis was working on.’
‘That’s right.’
As he already knew something about it, Julia could see no harm in filling in the details. It helped to be able to talk anyhow.
‘So what is Leighton doing about it now?’ Max queried when she had told him what had happened.
Julia shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He seems to be letting the matter drop. In fact, he’s—thinking of going back to London.’
Max’s eyes opened wide. ‘No! Really?’
Julia eyed him with an ironic smile. ‘I expect that pleases you.’
Max pursed his lips. ‘We-ll, it’s no use my being hypocritical about it, is it? I had an idea he’d get fed up before long. But what about you? Are you going to buy the business, after all?’
‘I don’t think he wants to sell. As a matter of fact, he’s offered me a partnership.’
‘A partnership?’ Max echoed. ‘Good lord! That’s one thing I didn’t think of. I mean—’
‘Neither did I. Celia said he was going to hire a manager. But he must have done some further thinking. He—doesn’t want me to put any capital in, just leave me to do the managing on a profit-sharing basis.’
‘Oh.’ Max seemed at a loss for words for a moment. Then he said suddenly: ‘Did you accept—or haven’t you made up your mind yet?’
‘I’m seeing him about it in the morning. But I shan’t accept. I want to get away.’
Max played with his fork thoughtfully. ‘I shall be sorry to see you go and I shall miss you, of course, but I think you’re doing the wisest thing really. In my opinion the heyday of the Broads holiday industry has been reached and will probably decline when the new regulations about sewage are in force. It will be precious little use building new craft unless new toilet arrangements are made, and the cost of converting those already in existence will be something to be reckoned with.’ Julia had heard vaguely about these new regulations, but the whole subject had been dropped for quite a while, and she—among plenty of others, she suspected—had forgotten all about it for the time being.
‘Oh dear. The regulations really are coming about, are they?’
Max nodded. ‘I got the news from a friend of mine on the River Board. It will be in all the papers in a day or two’s time.’
Julia frowned, thinking of the possible effect on Roger. But she said optimistically: ‘I expect the boat-owners’ associations will get together and devise some method. There has to be some way round the problem without altering the design of all the boats.’
‘Well, whatever they do, it’s almost bound to put the hire price up, and between ourselves prices are quite high enough already. Too high, in some case. In fact the thin end of the wedge is already showing. For the first time in years one of the boatyards were advertising in the local paper today that they had boats available for hire. Normally, just about every boat in existence is booked up the previous year. Some of these fellows—my own father included—have just about expanded themselves out of business. It was bound to happen.’ Expanded themselves out of business. Was that what Roger would do eventually? She must have a talk with him in the morning, warn him, even though she couldn’t help feeling that Max was being somewhat pessimistic. The Broads offered just the kind of holiday people needed today, and were seeking. One of complete relaxation in which they could unwind. It was the effect! of gliding smoothly along, miles away, or seemingly, from the rush of road traffic, of being able to look deep into the reflections on the water, to watch lazily the tall reeds bending to the breeze, or moor in some quiet spot and sunbathe or fish, and in the evenings either find entertainment ashore or settle down to an evening’s television.
‘Roger isn’t planning to build any more large luxury cruisers anyway,’ she said, more or less speaking her thoughts aloud. ‘And I think those are the main reasons for the Broads having reached saturation point.’
‘You could be right, but it’s all a matter of conjecture,’ answered Max. ‘Some people blame the weather and the cheap package holidays abroad, but these new regulations are going to be the death knell.’
‘I hope not,’ murmured Julia. ‘Otherwise there are going to be a lot of people out of work.’
But she was thinking mainly of Roger and beginning to feel guilty about leaving the business.
‘By the way,’ Max said casually, ‘talking of people being out of work, did I ever tell you—Tony Sheldrake worked at our place at one time?’
Julia stared at him in astonishment. ‘No, you didn’t tell me, and I find it rather odd.’
‘Oh, sorry. I thought I had. But I can’t see that it matters.’
‘But he didn’t give me any references from your firm,’ Julia protested.
‘No? Well, maybe he had enough without ours.’
‘Maybe. Will you take him on again?’
‘I don’t know. We might, I suppose, if he comes and asks us. We’ve got so many cruisers, we could always do with an extra engineering hand. Actually, we found him pretty good. I reckon he had a run of bad luck at your place.’
Julia was about to ask Max why Sheldrake had left them in that case, but Max began talking about something else,and it didn’t seem very important. Soon it was time to put an end to the evening, and Max walked with her to the car park.
As she drove to the boatyard Julia wondered if prospects in the Broads holiday business were as grim as Max had painted them. There would be, undoubtedly, a curb on the number of new craft built. At least, for a year or two, but she felt that would not be a bad thing at all. And Roger’s plans for expansion? After he had built the first of the new auxiliaries, perhaps he would soft-pedal. But now she was worried about the idea of leaving and going back home. Ought she to stay and manage the place for him, accept his offer of a partnership? Then she told herself she simply couldn’t. It had been bad enough while Celia had been here on holiday, but as Roger’s wife—
Roger was late coming into the office the next morning, and when he did she was startled at the look of anger on his face.
‘Is—anything wrong?’ she asked him.
‘Wrong?’ he echoed coldly. ‘Yes, there is. Did you know that that Sheldrake fellow was one of Windham’s men?’
Julia’s stomach muscles contracted violently. ‘Why—yes, I did, but—’
His eyes blazed. ‘Well, that’s rich, I must say! You and Windham concocted a nice little plan between you, didn’t you? And now you’ve got what you wanted. Me out of the way. Or will have in a very short space of time, I can tell you. Because I’ve just about had enough!’
He stormed into his office and slammed the door. Julia stared at it, then got slowly to her feet.
CHAPTER NINE
Julia was halfway to Norwich before she realized what she had done. She slowed down and looked for somewhere to pull in so that she could collect her thoughts.
When Roger had gone into his office, she had only one thought in her mind. To get away. To get—anywhere away from Roger and the boatyard. Without stopping to think of what she was doing or where she was going she had jumped into her car and automatically turned towards Norwich.
She drew into a quiet side street and stopped the car. Running away, that’s what she had been doing. But hadn’t she taken as much as any human being could, or should? Roger obviously thought the worst of her. He had accused her, actually accused her—of being in league with Max and Sheldrake to cause trouble for him so that he would become fed up enough to leave. He thought she had known from the beginning that Sheldrake
once worked for Windhams. How could he? How could he possibly suggest such a thing? But he had. And it was unthinkable that she should stay in his employ a moment longer.
Her hand reached out to the ignition. She would go home. He wouldn’t want her at the boatyard any longer, anyhow. She would go home and telephone him from there. Mrs. Harris would pack her belongings and send them on if she wrote and asked her. There was only one problem. She had not enough petrol to get her all the way to Kent and she had no money. She had not even stopped to pick up her handbag or anything. But there was an engineering firm in Norwich with whom Wingcraft had an account. They knew her well. She would ask them to fill up her tank and put it on the firm’s account, then pay Roger later. With regard to food, she would just have to go hungry until she arrived home.
Anger dulled the pain in her heart, and once she had a tank full of petrol, with a spare gallon in a can she always carried, she drove with fierce concentration, stopping only once for a brief rest. Surely Max hadn’t had anything to do with the stealing of the yacht design? Max and Sheldrake between them?
Snatches of conversation with Max kept coming back to her. He had wanted her to try to make Roger give up, or at any rate to be unco-operative with that end. It had been no less a shock to her than to Roger to discover that Sheldrake had worked at Windham’s. Could Max have sent him to deliberately sabotage the business? She asked herself with what object. Not on her behalf, surely? She had given him plainly to understand that she did not want the business and would do nothing against Roger.
As her mind went over one probability after another, recalling some of the things Max had said from time to time, it occurred to her how fed up Max had been with working for his father. Was it possible that Max wanted to buy Wingcraft himself? But she dismissed this idea. If he’d wanted it he could have bid for it when she herself withdrew. Unless—unless the price was too high, and he hoped that, by making things difficult for Roger, he might get the business cheaper. But he had never at any time mentioned that he would like his own boat-hire business.
She sighed and tried to dismiss the whole matter from her mind. Only one thing mattered. Roger thought her capable of working against him. That coupled with the fact that she loved him and he was going to marry someone else reduced everything else to unimportance.
When she arrived home she was at the point of exhaustion with hunger and fatigue, coupled with emotional upset.
‘Darling, what a lovely surprise!’ her mother exclaimed when she pushed open the kitchen door. Then, as she looked at her face, ‘But something’s wrong, isn’t it? You look—upset, as well as tired. Come into the sitting room.’
Julia practically collapsed into a chair. ‘Oh, thank goodness I’m home!’
‘When did you last eat, young lady?’ her mother asked, eyeing her keenly.
Julia leaned back wearily. ‘Oh, I—didn’t stop for anything to eat. I wanted to get home. I’m all right, Mother, really, but a cup of tea would be nice.’
‘You need more than a cup of tea, by the look of you,’ Mrs. Barclay said firmly. ‘Stay right there and I’ll bring you something in.’
She went out and Julia closed her eyes. As soon as she had eaten she would ring Roger. Or better still, ask her mother to ring him. Her mother would think it odd and there were bound to be questions to answer, but nothing would induce her to go back to Norwich.
Within a few minutes her mother came in with some tea and poured a cup out for her.
‘Drink this while you’re waiting. It’ll put a bit of life into you, at any rate.’
It did. Julia sipped it thankfully. In a very short time later Mrs. Barclay returned with cold meat and salad, brown bread and butter and a jar of honey.
‘Thanks, Mum. I feel better already,’ said Julia, slipping back to her childhood name for her mother.
Helen Barclay smiled, and as Julia ate, she talked about the orchards, her husband, and local news in general. Then as Julia sat back with another cup of tea, she said:
‘And now what’s your news? Tell me why you were in such a hurry to come home you didn’t even stop to pack a case or even bring your handbag.’
Julia gave a thin smile. ‘It’s no use trying to hide anything from you, Mum, is it?’
Her mother raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, my dear, that much is pretty obvious, so come on, out with it.’
It wasn’t easy to know how to start. ‘I know you’ll think I’m pretty silly, and maybe that I’ve behaved rather badly, but really I had no option,’ she began.
‘No option but to do what? You’d better tell me.’ As briefly as she could Julia told her mother about the hiring of Tony Sheldrake by herself, about the engine troubles, the switch of the drawings, her conversation with Max the previous evening and so to the scene this morning.
Helen Barclay frowned. ‘And, darling, you walked out and drove off without giving him time to cool down or anything?’
Anger was slowly ebbing away to expose pain and heartbreak. ‘I—I just couldn’t take any more, Mother. You see, I—I’m in love with him and—’
She compressed her lips and tried to hold back her tears, but it was no use. They spilled over, and for a few minutes sobs of despair shook her. Her mother took away the tray and the tea things, then put her arm around Julia’s shoulders.
‘Look, darling, go and lie down for a bit, then we’ll talk again later. I’m sure there’s a way through this.’
But Julia shook her head vigorously. ‘No, Mother. It isn’t just this morning’s episode. He’s in love with Celia—the girl I told you about in my letter. I could never go back, and there’s little point in talking. I’d just rather forget all about—everything as quickly as possible. There’s only one thing. As he doesn’t know where I am, will you give him a ring and let him know? Tell him I’ll write to him in a day or so, that I’m sorry to inconvenience him by leaving so suddenly, but—but that I’m sure he’ll understand.’
‘Yes, dear, all right. I’ll tell him. Now off you go to your room and try to sleep. You must be exhausted.’ Upstairs, Julia washed her face, then took off her dress and slid under the counterpane. Thoroughly spent now with weeping and the long journey, she closed her eyes and fell into a sleep of exhaustion and did not waken until her mother came into the room to tell her that the evening meal would be ready in five minutes.
‘I came up earlier, but you were sound asleep. Here, drink this. It will help you to wake up. I couldn’t let you stay any longer, otherwise you’d never sleep tonight.’
Julia sat up and her mother put another cup of tea into her hands.
‘Did you—ring Roger, Mother?’ she asked.
‘Ye-es, I did.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Well, he’d been worried about you, of course. He also said that he’d lost his temper and was sorry. He was very relieved when I told him you were at home and wanted to speak to you, but I told him you were resting.’
‘Did he ask when I was going back?’
‘No, dear, he didn’t. I told him you’d said you were going to write to him and he said he’d look forward to hearing from you. Now, your father’s home, so drink up and put on something pretty and come down to dinner.’
‘What did you tell Father?’ she asked.
‘More or less what you told me, dear, and he thinks as I do—that it was a misunderstanding, and it will all get sorted out.’
Julia felt like screaming. ‘But, Mother, it won’t “all get sorted out”. All right, so Roger was annoyed, he blew his top and now he’s sorry. But that isn’t important. It’s—it’s the other thing. I had to get away and I’m not going back. If Father hasn’t a job for me in the orchards—’
‘Now, now, Julia darling, that’s quite enough,’ her mother said firmly. ‘You know perfectly well there’ll always be a job in the orchards if you want one.’
Julia compressed her lips. ‘I’m sorry, Mother. But I’m afraid you still don’t quite understand.’
Helen Barcla
y took the cup from her hands and sat on the bed, putting her arm round Julia’s shoulders.
‘I think I do, darling, but if I don’t then we must talk some more and you must make me understand. Now come along, your father’s longing to see you and he’s waiting for his dinner—which will be ruined if I don’t go down and attend to it.’
Julia smiled, ashamed of her outburst. ‘I won’t be long—and thanks for the tea. It was lovely.’
She had a shower and dressed quickly. She had the best and most understanding parents in the world, but she mustn’t burden them with her troubles. She would just have to learn to forget Roger. It was the only thing to do.
Her father greeted her with a big hug. ‘I see you’ve bought yourself another car,’ he said almost immediately. ‘Looks a nice little job. And you had no mechanical troubles on the journey?’
Julia blessed him for not asking questions about the circumstances of her coming.
‘No troubles at all,’ she told him. ‘And how’s the fruit industry? Is it going to be a good harvest?’
He crossed his fingers. ‘So far, so good. One thing about a wet spring—you don’t get those killer morning frosts.’
It was almost as though she had never been away—except for the dull ache deep inside her which she tried to ignore. She talked shop with her father, and local news and generalities with her mother. But when they were drinking their nightcap, she found herself saying suddenly:
‘Father, do you think I acted badly in just walking out and coming home without a word? Do you think I should have—’
Her father shook his head and put his hand on hers.
‘My dear, we all of us do hasty things at times. If we were perfect we wouldn’t be human. You acted on impulse, that’s all. You didn’t behave badly deliberately. It wasn’t calculated. You had obviously reached the end of your endurance about one thing and another, and the first place you thought of was home, that’s all.’
The Man in Possession Page 17
