The Brave In Heart

by Mary Burchell

  “I’ve nothing to put up to Uncle Hector but a rather hare-brained scheme, backed by a casual letter from Mrs. Forrest,” she thought with a sigh. “And the worst of it is that, even if I could make Uncle Hector like the scheme, it’s he who would have to take the responsibility of renewing the three years’ agreement for renting the house from next quarter-day. And he’d have to find half a year’s rent in advance, for I can’t see that coming out of the tiny bit that is left.”

  It hardly seemed, at the moment, that even Marmaduke could induce Uncle Hector to take such a beautifully unpractical view of the future that he would be persuaded to do all that.

  However, this was not the first crisis with which life had presented Jessica, and she had long ago learned that there was nothing to be gained by harrowing oneself with nervous anxiety beforehand. That only unfitted one for dealing with a situation when it finally arrived.

  So she concentrated every effort on creating an air of pleasant competence in the house, in the hope that Uncle Hector and Aunt Miriam would thereby see for themselves that paying guests might very reasonably flock to a place where everything was so agreeable and enjoyable.

  When the next morning dawned very bright and fair, Jessica felt it was definitely a point in her favour. For, though even Uncle Hector would hardly hold her responsible for the weather, there was no denying that on a fine day one may view with benevolent optimism a project which, on a wet day, appears weighed down with disadvantages and reasons for objection.

  With the sunlight flickering through the trees on its green-and-white exterior, The Mead, even to less prejudiced eyes than those of Jessica and the twins, might well appear beautiful. And the lawn handsomely repaid the care of Tom and Judy that morning by looking like an Elizabethan bowling green.

  Surely Uncle Hector would see that almost anyone would wish to linger in this lovely spot, where one could look across the green and brown and purple hills to where mighty Helvellyn reared his noble head in the cloudy distance.

  So entranced was Jessica by the beauties which awaited her prospective paying guests that, by the time her aunt and uncle arrived, just before lunch, she had almost convinced herself that they would regard her scheme, not only in a favourable light, but as a brilliant inspiration.

  Neither Uncle Hector (in good but well-worn tweeds) nor Aunt Miriam (in a serviceable raincoat because she knew what one might expect in the Lake District) appeared to be people on the lookout for brilliant inspirations, it must be confessed.

  They were a serious-minded, worthy couple who liked to look twice before they leapt, and then usually decided that leaping was an unwise and undesirably impulsive method of progression. They had come to middle-aged prosperity only by the exercise of rigid economy and what Aunt Miriam called “careful management” throughout their thirty years of married life. And they were proud — and justly proud — of the fact that they had never owed anyone a penny or asked for help from a soul.

  Careful investment had steadily — and, in recent years, sensationally — increased their savings. So that now, in their late fifties, they found themselves, somewhat to their own surprise, comparatively wealthy people.

  But the habits of years die hard. There was nothing which they did not know about saving, and hardly anything which they did know about spending. Even the purchase of the serviceable, second-hand car in which they arrived had seemed to them a piece of princely extravagance, on which they had embarked only after earnest consultation and calculation.

  It was natural, therefore, that they should regard their more or less enforced duty towards their nieces and nephew in a resigned, rather than an enthusiastic, light.

  However, they both greeted Jessica and the twins quite kindly, and postponed until after lunch any discussion of the painful subject of future arrangements.

  Marmaduke, reclining majestically on crisp lettuce and decorated with thin slices of Skelton cucumber, certainly created an excellent impression — though Aunt Miriam did remark that salmon was “surely a terrible price just now” and that she had always regarded it as “one of the luxuries which people in our position must forgo.”

  Jessica hastened to say — rather untruthfully — that salmon was extremely reasonable in price in this particular district. And was very justly punished by having Aunt Miriam enquire about exact prices, and then give her a very serious little lecture on what might and what might not be regarded as reasonable by “people in our position.”

  “We really got it to please you and Uncle Hector,” Tom explained with tact and a certain regard for truth. And the candour of this rather touched their visitors.

  “Then there’s nothing more to say about it, except that we’re enjoying it very much,” Uncle Hector said, not unkindly. “Though I wouldn’t want you to think, Jessica, that your aunt and I expect or entirely approve these little extravagances.”

  Jessica murmured something submissive, and the meal proceeded to a successful conclusion.

  Afterwards, when Jessica and Judy had cleared away, and the washing up had been abandoned to the not very tender mercies of Linda, Uncle Hector indicated that the time had come for a serious talk between himself, his wife and Jessica. So Jessica told the twins to go into the garden and — not without backward, imploring glances from Judy — they withdrew.

  “Now, Jessica —” Uncle Hector took off his spectacles and began to polish them at great length. Not because they required this attention, but because he had long ago discovered that this was an excellent method of delivering long and unwelcome statements, without the unpleasant necessity of meeting the eyes of the person to whom the statement was addressed. “Now, Jessica, this is not, as you know, purely a visit of pleasure. We have to consider the very practical problem of the future of yourself and your brother and sister.”

  “Yes, Uncle Hector. I’ve been thinking things over very carefully,” Jessica began eagerly, “and I can’t help feeling —”

  “I, too, have been thinking things over carefully,” interrupted Uncle Hector, whose technique was that of a well-intentioned steam-roller, “and, as it is obvious that no one would pay a high salary to an untrained girl like you, Jessica, I think the first essential is to enter you at a good business training college. Your aunt and I are very willing to offer you a home, my dear, while you are training, though I am sure you will not think us unfriendly if I add that we could not contemplate changing our present mode of living to the extent of offering you a permanent home.”

  “Of course not,” murmured Jessica, feeling they were getting a long way away from the idea of paying guests, but deciding that it was best to let Uncle Hector have his head for the moment.

  “In six to nine months, if you work hard, you should be self-supporting, Jessica,” her uncle continued, while Aunt Miriam nodded gravely to indicate her agreement with this estimate. “Meanwhile, since your aunt and I do not feel equal to taking two children into our household at our age, I am afraid there is no alternative but to send Tom and Judy to boarding school. This is usually an iniquitously expensive form of education,” Uncle Hector admitted, with a sigh, “but I see no other way. The children would, of course, spend their holidays with us,” he added without enthusiasm.

  “It’s very good of you, Uncle Hector, to be willing to go to so much trouble and expense on our behalf,” Jessica said with sincerity. “But I have got an alternative suggestion to make, and I — I’ve been hoping you will allow me to try the experiment.”

  At the word “experiment” Uncle Hector thrust out a doubtful lower lip. He preferred well-tried methods, himself, and instinctively distrusted experiments. But he replaced his now highly polished spectacles and said:

  “Well, Jessica?”

  “Neither the twins nor I can bear the thought of leaving here,” Jessica explained a little breathlessly, “and I want you to let me keep The Mead, and I’ll undertake to pay our way by taking paying guests. The children can continue at their present day schools.”

  “My dea
r Jessica! Do you mean run a boarding house — at your age?” It was Aunt Miriam who interrupted in a deeply shocked tone. “You might have — indeed, you would have — all sorts of unpleasantnesses. People who wouldn’t pay their bills, men who took too much to drink.”

  “I didn’t propose to have licensed premises, Aunt Miriam,” Jessica said patiently. “And I thought if Uncle Hector would — would give me a year to work up a connection, I could do it largely on personal recommendation, so that I got the type of visitor you — one would approve of. I’ve already had a letter from a Mrs. Forrest who —”

  “What do you mean, exactly, Jessica, by ‘if I would give you a year to work up a connection’?” enquired Uncle Hector rather ponderously.

  “Well, you see, I — I’ve hardly any capital at all.” Jessica knew she was coming now to the real fence. “I don’t mean that I should require any big outlay. The place is well furnished and very few things would need to be bought. But there is the question of the house.”

  “Which is rented at a pretty high figure, if I remember rightly,” Uncle Hector said severely.

  “It’s not cheap,” Jessica admitted desperately. “It’s rented on a three years’ agreement, but we’ve never had any difficulty about renewal in all the twenty-one years we’ve been here, and —”

  “When is the renewal of the agreement due?” enquired Uncle Hector, taking out a pencil and notebook — which Jessica hardly knew whether to take as a hopeful sign or otherwise.

  “Next quarter-day, and —”

  “My dear child!” Uncle Hector closed his notebook with a snap. “Are you going to suggest that I should enter into a further three years’ agreement about this most expensive house, on the strength of some idle hope of yours that you can turn the place into a boarding house? Really, Jessica, this is childish! I’m afraid you are as unpractical as your poor father,” he added heavily, in a tone which said: “And see in what a mess he has landed us all.”

  “If I could persuade Mr. Onderley to extend the agreement for one year only this time —” began Jessica.

  “Most unlikely,” snapped Uncle Hector. “Why should he?”

  Jessica didn’t really know — except that so much might depend on it.

  “But if I could persuade him, Uncle?”

  “How is the rent payable? Quarterly, in advance, I suppose?”

  “H-half-yearly, in advance,” Jessica admitted fearfully, and Uncle Hector’s “Tch, tch, tch,” was more than discouraging.

  “I might get that altered, too,” Jessica suggested rather wildly. “And, if I could once make a start, I know I could make a success of it.” And before Uncle Hector could make further objections, she explained about Mrs. Forrest’s letter, and even produced it, as corroborative evidence.

  Uncle Hector studied the letter with an unfavourable expression, while Jessica turned to Aunt Miriam and said eagerly:

  “You see, it wouldn’t be necessary then for you to be bothered with me, or the twins in the holidays. We should still have a home of our own and —”

  “We’re quite ready to do our duty towards you, Jessica,” Aunt Miriam interrupted a little reprovingly. “You mustn’t think you wouldn’t be welcome in our home. We’re not used to young people, of course, but —”

  “And we’re not used to life in London, Aunt Miriam,” Jessica explained diffidently. “I — I don’t think it would be very easy, either for you or us, to — to try to adjust ourselves. And I know the twins would be miserable if they were separated and at boarding school.”

  “Children accustom themselves to change very quickly,” Aunt Miriam stated somewhat repressively. And then: “Your uncle wants to speak again.”

  Jessica turned eagerly to Uncle Hector once more.

  “I take it, you based your whole idea on this letter, Jessica?”

  “It made me see the possibilities,” Jessica admitted.

  “Hm. If you were twenty years older and there were not this question of three years’ agreement and half a year’s rent in advance, it might be worth considering.” Uncle Hector rolled out the objections with melancholy emphasis, and Jessica had the impression that he would not be really sorry to have those objections removed. After all, if she could make a success of this venture, undoubtedly he would be relieved of some expense and much unwelcome company.

  But the three years’ agreement and the half year’s rent in advance stuck in Uncle Hector’s throat, so to speak.

  “But it wouldn’t represent anything like so much expense as the scheme you yourself outlined,” Jessica pleaded.

  “The scheme I outlined was a sound and stable one,” Uncle Hector pointed out. “Your idea involves considerable risk and is dependent on some extremely debatable provisions. All the same —” He paused and cleared his throat, while Jessica’s hopes rocketed. “I am prepared to give your suggestion consideration.”

  “Oh, Uncle Hector!”

  Uncle Hector raised his hand in a gesture for silence which he had seen and admired very much on the stage in his youth.

  “As you know, your aunt and I are combining this visit with our summer holiday,” he said. “We propose to motor on into Scotland, and shall be away about three weeks. During that time, I suggest you see this Mr. Onderley, and find out if he is willing to — er — rent the property on terms more suited to the present emergency. Then we will discuss the matter further on our return.”

  “And, meanwhile, I can have Mrs. Forrest and her son?” asked Jessica eagerly.

  “Oh, certainly,” said Uncle Hector, who had never in his life turned away a prospect of ready money. “When do they want to come?” He referred once more to the letter.

  “Right away. I could wire them.”

  “Or send a postcard,” interjected Aunt Miriam, who thought telegrams extravagant and slightly wicked.

  “Anyway, their visit would be in the nature of an experiment,” Uncle Hector admitted. “If it were successful, Jessica, and you have a satisfactory talk with Mr. Onderley, who must, I suppose, have known you since you were a child, then I should begin to think there was something in your idea.”

  Not until then did Jessica realise how much was to depend on her interview with Mr. Onderley.

  She opened her lips to admit that she had never met him in her life, since, until now, he had left the management of his local property in his agent’s hands. But the wording of Uncle Hector’s last speech suddenly recurred to her, and she closed her lips again on the untruthful implication that Mr. Onderley was a dear old gentleman who had known her since appealing childhood days.

  No doubt this was why Uncle Hector had left her to deal with the Mr. Onderley interview. If he had known that she was as much a stranger to him as Uncle Hector himself . . .

  But he did not know. And Jessica contrived to bring the visit to an agreeable and safe conclusion without either her uncle or her aunt suspecting the truth.

  When they had finally driven away — at a decorous pace which Uncle Hector considered proper to his dignity and Aunt Miriam to his standard of driving — Jessica told the panting twins the gist of the interview. She considered that any anxiety about the future would be tempered for them by hopes of success, and, if they should fail in their project, at least Uncle Hector’s own proposals would not come as a complete shock. Besides, they were good children, and would undoubtedly promise their quite valuable cooperation.

  This they did, with whoops of excitement and optimism from Judy. Tom, more soberly, put his finger on the weak spot and said:

  “It all depends on Mr. Onderley, really, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, a good deal depends on him,” Jessica admitted.

  “Bob Parry says he’s a hard man,” stated Tom with regretful authority.

  “Bob Parry doesn’t know anything about him,” replied Jessica sharply, because this intelligence frightened her and she didn’t want to show that it did. “He’s only two years older than you.”

  “But his mother keeps a shop,” Tom said e
lliptically. And Jessica mentally admitted that this vastly increased Bob’s probable supply of local gossip.

  “It’ll be all right,” Judy asserted. “Jessica will talk him round. Mr. Onderley, I mean, not Bob. When are you going to see him, Jess?”

  “In a day or two. I want to settle the question of the Forrests first.” said Jessica, who felt that two paying guests in hand — and probably well-paying, at that — would improve her position.

  So a telegram was despatched, and Mrs. Forrest — who, unlike Uncle Hector and Aunt Miriam, delighted to leap almost before looking — replied that she and her son, David, might be expected within the next couple of days.

  This set the twins frantically rolling the lawn afresh, and Jessica and — less enthusiastically — Linda making every preparation for the comfort and pleasure of their first important guests.

  The result was that, by the time the Forrests arrived, on the evening of the second day, The Mead was in a condition to face a stiff military inspection, rather than the tolerant, easily-satisfied demands of Mrs. Forrest and her son.

  They had driven from London during the day — in a silver-grey touring car, of dimensions and luxuriousness which would have made Uncle Hector’s homely chariot look like salvage. The occupants, too, could hardly have differed more from The Mead’s most recent visitors.

  At fifty, Evelyn Forrest still contrived to look a very pretty woman of thirty-nine and, in her expensive motoring coat and deceptively simple hat, she would not have disgraced the pages of an exclusive fashion journal.

  She kissed Jessica and the twins and then introduced the tall, fair young man with her.

  “This is my boy, David, Jessica. I’m afraid he is an artist, but not a very arty one. I mean, he does portraits.”

  “What my mother really means is that I contrive to sell my work at high prices,” David Forrest explained with a smile. “And that’s either an advantage or an affront to art for art’s sake — just as you care to look at it.”

  “I should call it an advantage,” Jessica said as she shook hands with him and smiled.