She glanced at the church clock as she turned homewards. Half-past twelve! Perhaps the boat had already docked and Gordon was trying to explain the position to his friend.
Poor Gordon!—not a very enviable task—still, no doubt the Man from Ceylon would understand and take it in the right spirit.
What was he like, she wondered! If it was true as Gordon had said, that he was still in the thirties, it certainly seemed very young to have retired from business, though, as Paddy would say, why go on working if you have enough money to live on? What had made Paddy so surprisingly enquire that morning, “Wouldn’t you like to be married?” and why had she answered—not quite truthfully—that she had never given it a thought? She had of course, just as’ all girls did—had thought a little wistfully how nice it must be to have a home of one’s own and a husband to wave goodbye to every morning and to watch for his return in the evening as her mother never failed to do!
A little house was Jessica’s idea of happiness, with a walled garden if possible—yes, a little house facing open country and yet not too far away from shops and the station.
‘Wayside Cottage’—that would be an attractive name for it, she thought, and she would like a little green-painted gate and a crazy-pavement path leading to the front door. A water-butt, too, and perhaps— if there was room—a tiny lily-pond around which she would grow golden marsh-mallows in the spring… .
Funny that Paddy’s idea of bliss was exactly opposite! Funny, that two sisters should have such entirely different tastes— for Paddy intended to have a flat, overlooking Hyde Park if possible, or Kensington Gardens, and no doubt her wish would be fulfilled; Paddy invariably managed to get what she wanted!
“But I don’t suppose I ever shall,” Jessica thought with a sigh, though there was no harm in day-dreams and in hoping that some day they might become reality!
The house which had taken her father nine years to pay off was in sight now and Jessica quickened her steps. A lovely morning, warm sunshine and the birds singing in the trees overhead. Jessica had begun to cross the road when the warning hoot of a motor horn checked her and, looking round she saw a small lorry laden with boxes and packingcases slowing down as it approached, and finally coming to a standstill beside her.
There were two men on the driver’s seat, and one of them, a brown-faced man wearing an exaggeratedly slouched hat leaned towards her as he said,
“Pardon me, but can you tell me whether there is a house named ‘KIBJLOU’ anywhere in this road?”
‘Kirlou’—the name proudly invented by her mother from the first syllable of her husband’s and her own name.
“People named Mansfield live there,” the man explained.
Jessica glanced at the laden lorry with sudden interest and then back at the man. Who was he?— the salvage man?—or just a carrier delivering something ordered by her father or Gordon? She had certainly never seen either him or the lorry in the neighbourhood before.
She pointed across the road.
“That’s the house—’Kirlou’,” and then, as the man smiled in friendly fashion, “And I’m Miss Mansfield,” she added.
The slouch hat was suddenly swept from his head in quick courtesy, as he laughed—
“And I am the Man from Ceylon,” he told her, with confident cheerfulness.
Jessica’s friendly smile changed to a look of blank dismay, and for a moment she felt utterly at a loss.
The Man from Ceylon! So he had come after all—Gordon must have missed him somehow—and there was no room ready for him, nothing very interesting for dinner or supper—and how on earth could they dispose of all that stack of luggage, if indeed it was really his, and did not as she hoped belong to the man beside him who was beginning to look decidedly impatient.
Her perturbed thoughts came to a standstill when the Man from Ceylon said a little dubiously, though he was still smiling—
“Don’t tell me I am not expected!”
Jessica gave herself a mental shake.
“Oh no—of course not!… we’ve heard all about you…. Gordon has gone to Tilbury to meet the boat, but I suppose you missed one another.”
“Looks like it,” he agreed ruefully. “We docked earlier than I expected. However, here I am!”—he jumped down from the seat and looked at her with renewed interest. “You are Paddy, of course!— I’ve heard all about you from Gordon——”
Jessica flushed. “No—I’m her sister—Jessica,” she told him, as she wondered comically what Paddy would say when she heard that she had been mistaken for the beauty of the family!
The Man from Ceylon looked slightly surprised, though he at once held out his hand.
“I am delighted to meet you,” he said warmly. “I hope we shall be friends.” He turned to the driver of the lorry. “That’s the house—opposite—you can drive in,” he told him. “I’ll open the gate——”
“And I’ll run on and tell mother you’ve come,” Jessica said a little breathlessly.
What on earth would her mother say, she wondered in dismay as she ran towards the house. She would be kind of course, and would give the Man from Ceylon a warm welcome, but there was her father to consider—though thank goodness he would not be home until things had had time to settle down and some explanation was possible.
It would come as a great shock to her mother, Jessica feared—she so quickly got excited when anything unexpected happened, and excitement was bad for her as she was not too strong and her heart was weak, so it was a relief to be told by Dilly, when she entered the house, that her mother had gone down the road to call on a neighbour.
“But she’ll be in to dinner,” Dilly added.
Jessica caught her arm as she turned away.
“Listen,” she said quickly, “Mr. Gordon’s friend from Ceylon has arrived, and is outside now. My brother went to meet him at the docks, but they missed one another, so of course he doesn’t know that we—that we decided we couldn’t put him up—” and then as Dilly blankly ejaculated “Lordy!”she continued hurriedly— “He mustn’t know—we must let him think it’s all right and that we were expecting him—you and I can get Master Selby’s room ready for him presently—it won’t take long—and——”
“Is there any luggage? “Dilly enquired.
Luggage!… Jessica laughed.
“I am afraid there is rather a lot of luggage,” she admitted. “But perhaps for the present we can put some of it in the shed or the garage——”
Dilly nodded——“I’ll come and help,” she said at once—and she followed Jessica to the front door where the lorry had already come to a standstill.
Dilly gave one look at it and again ejaculated “LORDY! “—this time with greater dismay, but she smiled as the Man from Ceylon gave her a friendly nod, announcing—” Well, here I am—lock, stock and barrel—” and then, as Jessica said apologetically “I am afraid we shan’t be able to find room for all your luggage in the house “—he waved a deprecating hand—
“That’s all right—I’ve got the things I shall want in a couple of suitcases. The rest can go in the shed or stay out in the yard—they won’t hurt. Here, you —lend a hand,” he ordered the driver, and together they began to haul down the mysterious looking packingcases.
Jessica felt deeply impressed as she saw that they were all painted with their owner’s name in huge block capital letters—” HALLAM. LONDON”, as if he was an Ambassador or someone of great importance.
She looked at him with renewed interest.
Not exactly a handsome man—dark hair, closely cropped, but still with a suspicion of a wave in it—very keen eyes—almost startlingly blue against his sunburnt skin—and square, powerful looking shoulders. In the thirties, so Gordon had said, but Jessica thought he looked older.
“The shed and the garage are both unlocked,” she told him. “And I think you will find plenty of room for your boxes.”
“Right ho!” he said cheerily, and as he shouldered one of the packingcases and turned awa
y, Jessica caught Dilly’s arm.
“Come and help me get his room ready,” she whispered, and together they hurried back to the house.
“Nice gentleman, isn’t he?” Dilly remarked approvingly. “But I’ve never seen so much luggage before! “She giggled before submitting dubiously, “What will the Master say, Miss Jessica?”
Jessica had a very good idea what her father would say, but she fervently hoped that this time his anger would die as suddenly as it usually did and he would realise that the arrival of Gordon’s friend was just the result of misfortune and that nobody was to blame.
“Will the gentleman stay very long, Miss?” Duly enquired as they hurriedly put the one vacant bedroom in order.
Jessica’s impulse was to reply fervently, “I hope not!” but she quickly checked the words, realising they were not quite the truth, for from her point of view at least, life had been a little monotonous since the cessation of hostilities and Hallam’s sudden arrival had already given it a new, if somewhat disturbing interest.
“I really can’t say,” she admitted, dubiously.
“I think he’s nice,” Dilly declared. She giggled. “He reminds me of someone on the films, in that funny hat he’s wearing.”
Jessica laughed. “He’s come from a very hot country,” she explained. “Very different to this because the sun is always shining—at least, I think it is,” she added uncertainly.
“That’s why he’s got such a brown face, I suppose,” Dilly submitted. “My brother was like that when he came back from India after the war ended. Have you ever been abroad, Miss?”
“No—at least—only to France, and that was a long time ago when I was quite small, but I should like to go again because—” she broke off abruptly as her name was called from the hall in shrill insistence —” Jessica!… Jessica!—where are you?”
“The Missus,” Dilly whispered.
Jessica ran downstairs to where her mother was standing at the front door, staring with bewildered eyes at the still half-loaded lorry.
“What on earth is it? “she demanded agitatedly— “And who are those two odd-looking men in the garage?”
Jessica took her hand in a soothing grasp.
“It’s all right, dear, just come in and sit down and I’ll tell you what’s happened—” and then as Mrs. Mansfield firmly resisted she quietly explained. “It’s Gordon’s friend, Mr. Hallam—the Man from Ceylon. He and Gordon missed one another at Tilbury, and so he didn’t know that he—that we were not expecting him——”
Mrs. Mansfield collapsed onto the nearest chair——
“The Man from Ceylon!” she echoed in a tragic whisper. “What on earth will your father say! “She gave a smothered scream and looked towards the door with apprehensive eyes as there was a sudden thud of a heavy suitcase being dropped, and Monty Hallam appeared——
“Phew!…that’s some weight—” he declared. “But we’ve disposed of most of them.…I beg your pardon,” he went on apologetically as he saw Mrs. Mansfield. He took a quick stride towards her with outstretched hand—” This is the unpaying but not, I hope, unwanted guest,” he announced smilingly.
Jessica held her breath, afraid that in the excitement of the moment her mother would admit that he was, indeed, unwanted! But to her infinite relief Mrs. Mansfield rose to her feet and laid her hand in his big grasp——
“So you and Gordon missed one another,” she said quite composedly. “I am Gordon’s mother”— her voice wavered a little before she added firmly— “Welcome to England—I hope you had a pleasant voyage.”
“Not so bad take it all round, though the ship was a bit crowded—” He glanced round the hall—” It’s more than good of you to take me in, and I am profoundly grateful.”
Mrs. Mansfield smiled as she met his eyes—
“It would be a poor world if we could not help one another,” she said—” Now—about your room— I’m afraid——”
“It’s quite ready,” Jessica interrupted, and then as Dilly appeared on the stairs—” Show Mr. Hallam his room, please.”
Hallam picked up the weighty suitcase—
“I can manage,” he assured Dilly as she would have come to his assistance, and then again, as he, looked at Mrs. Mansfield, “I cannot thank you enough for your most kind reception.”
There was a moment of profound silence when he had disappeared upstairs which was broken by Mrs. Mansfield—
“He’s—nice, isn’t he? “she said.
Jessica gave a sigh of infinite relief.
“I’m glad you like him,” and then in a hurried whisper, “We mustn’t let him know he wasn’t expected.”
Mrs. Mansfield looked quite indignant.
“Certainly not!” she agreed. “Though what on earth your father will say I cannot imagine!”
“We must meet him before he gets home and tell him what has happened—and Gordon—too.”
Her mother nodded—” But all those packingcases!… what can he have in them! “she whispered, and as if in reply to her query Hallam came running down the stairs again—
“I hope my amount of luggage doesn’t appal you? “he apologised. “But I know things are a bit difficult over this side—so I ventured to bring a few odds and ends which i hope may be useful—a case of tea and one or two other things——”
“Tea!” Mrs. Mansfield breathed ; she looked at him with supreme amazement and gratitude—” I cannot think of anything that would be more welcome! It is an absolute impossibility to make our meagre ration go round. My husband is so fond of his tea —and like most men, he never seems to realise what an effort it is to eke it out. Really, Mr. Hallam, you are indeed a friend in need.”
“Please call me ‘Monty’,” Hallam invited as he strode towards the front door—” I’ll just settle with the lorry-man—and send him off.”
“He’s very nice, isn’t he?” Mrs. Mansfield said again, and then in an ecstatic whisper—” Tea!… it’s really too wonderful.”
“We must keep a look-out for Gordon,” Jessica reminded her anxiously, and then as the telephone rang—” That may be him—I’ll answer it.” And she hurried into the sitting-room.
It was Gordon!—talking nineteen to the dozen in deep perturbation—” The boat was in much sooner than they expected—and I’ve missed Monty. I don’t know what you can do if he turns up—He may be halfway to our place already, so if he gets there before I do—” Jessica interrupted him with an amused laugh : “He’s here—lock, stock and barrel— as he calls it—” And then, as her brother broke in agitatedly—” Good Lord! What on earth did you tell him? “she said calmly—
“You needn’t worry. It’s quite all right—mother welcomed him with open arms—more or less!—but mind you never let him know that we didn’t mean to have him——”
She heard him give a prolonged whistle—
“You mean—he’ll stay after all? “he ejaculated, incredulously.
Jessica laughed—” It looks like it,” she admitted, and again she found herself wishing—” I hope he does!”
“And—the Guv’nor? “Gordon hazarded. “Do you think the Mater will be able to manage him? “
“Doesn’t she always?” Jessica reminded him happily. …
Chapter II
When Jessica Looked Back on the Arrival of the Man from Ceylon, it seemed to be the most important day of her life, during which—for once—she amazingly took control while the rest of the household humbly obeyed her instructions.
As a rule it was the other way about, for by nature she was quiet and unassuming, always willing to fall in with the plans and wishes of the family and uncomplainingly undertaking the less interesting jobs which they—particularly Paddy—would otherwise have left undone.
But today even Dilly, who was inclined to be impatient and slightly dominating, meekly followed at her heels, running hither and thither, fetching and carrying with remarkable willingness.
Gordon arrived home just as lunch was ready and seein
g him at the gate, Jessica hurried out to meet him and to give a word of warning.
“Everything is all right, he hasn’t the least idea that we weren’t expecting him, so be careful what you say. He’s got Selby’s room and he’s up there now—unpacking his suitcases, I suppose—” A little smile crossed her face as she thought of the cheery whistling which had filled the house since Monty’s arrival and of her mother’s approving remark when she first heard it. “He seems quite at home already, doesn’t he?”
Gordon drew a long breath of relief.
“I thought there’d be Hell to pay,” he said frankly. “What do you think of him, Jess?”
“I—think he’s nice,” Jessica admitted, and then humorously, “But there may still be ‘Hell to pay’, as you call it, when Father arrives on the scene.”
“I’ll go and meet him.”
She shook her head. “No, don’t do that. Mother is going—she can manage him better than anyone else.”
“What’s the Mater think of Monty? “
Jessica laughed. “Well, he’s already presented her with two pounds of the best Ceylon tea, and he says there’s heaps more in the packingcases which we had to put in the garage—there are simply dozens of them!”
“All his worldly goods, I expect,” Gordon said carelessly. “He’s not going back, you know.”
“Perhaps he won’t like being here in such a different climate.”
“He’s not staying—so he told me in his last letter. Thinks of going to one of the colonies to settle— Australia or somewhere. I shouldn’t mind going with him.”
“Oh! I see——” Jessica turned away. “Dinner is just ready—you might tell him, will you? “
Australia!… right on the other side of the world!… There was a vague feeling of regret in Jessica’s heart as she recalled the big, revolving globe of her schooldays, from which she had learned all about latitude and longitude and other uninteresting subjects—remembering how very far away and quite ungetatable Australia had seemed to her youthful mind, a country quite impossible to reach, even if one wanted to!
The Man from Ceylon Page 2
