Acapulco Moonlight

by Marjorie Lewty

  Oh God, Karen thought, how can I tell him? He was trying so hard. Putting on such a brave act.

  'Ben ‑' she began. 'Oh, Ben...'

  She felt the tears stinging behind her eyes and bit her lip hard. But it was too late. Karen, who hadn't cried for years, put her head down on the desk and burst into tears.

  CHAPTER TWO

  'You mean he didn't say anything? Nothing at all? Didn't give you any hint of what was in his mind?'

  An hour had passed and Ben sat slumped in his chair, drinking his second mug of coffee and trying, Karen saw only too well, not to give way to despair.

  'Not really.' Karen wouldn't meet his eyes. 'He was a man of few words.' She managed a small grin.

  'Yes. I can believe that. But he must have said something—something to upset you.' His brown eyes softened. 'I never saw you cry before, Karen.'

  She shook her head. 'That was just me being silly. I'd been horribly tense and worked up all the time he was here. I'd been so anxious not to do or say anything to put him off. I suppose when he'd gone the reaction just got to me, that's all.'

  'I blame myself,' he said morosely. 'I should never have left the office. I should have known that he might come early.'

  'How could you know?' Karen argued. 'His letter said eleven—you remember, we checked it again—and people aren't usually an hour early for an appointment.' She wondered if that had been a nasty, clever ploy on Saul Marston's part. If he had turned up early to surprise them—to see exactly what was going on when they weren't expecting him. It was just the kind of dirty trick he would play, she thought, her lip curling with distaste.

  'Tell me again all that happened—all that he said.'

  She'd been through it half-a-dozen times already but now she went patiently through it again. It was an edited version she gave Ben. Nothing could have made her repeat the horrid words that man had used. Pathetic, he'd said. A dump, he'd said, with that superior expression on his handsome face. She boiled inside again as she remembered.

  'He went round the workshop quite carefully,' she ended her report, 'and he talked to Jean and to some of the girls. And he seemed to get on with Charlie. He looked twice at those new. drawings of yours too. He seemed interested in them.'

  'But he looked at the accounts too, of course,' Ben reminded her wryly.

  'Well, that was partly what he came for, after all.' Karen used her most reasonable tone. 'I mean, you wouldn't have approached him in the first place if the financial side of the business had been going swimmingly, would you?'

  'No, I suppose not,' Ben sighed. Then he seemed to make an effort to cheer up. 'Look, I couldn't settle down to work this morning. Marston can't possibly get in touch just yet if he's driving back to London to a meeting. Suppose I treat you to lunch?' He grinned and fingered his new tie. 'I can't waste all this finery, and you look smashing, Karen. We'll knock 'em for six in the Grand snack-bar. Let's go and drink to the good news, what do you say?'

  She wanted to weep again but instead she smiled. 'Thanks, Ben, that would be lovely,' she said. 'I'll go and get my coat on.'

  It was just after three o'clock that afternoon when the phone on Ben's desk rang and Karen went across the office to answer it. Each time the phone had rung since they got back from lunch she had gone cold and now her fingers were damp on the stem of the receiver as she picked it up.

  'Good afternoon, Clark's Components.' She held her stomach tight, as if she were expecting a blow.

  A woman's voice said, 'I have a call for Mr Ben Clark. Mr Marston would like to speak to him.'

  'I'll tell him. Will you hold the line for a moment please.' This was it, then. This was the crunch that had to come. As she pushed open the door into the workshop Karen's knees were shaking.

  Ben was standing just the other side of the glass partition. 'Telephone for you.' Karen said, and when his eyes opened wide and his fair brows rose questioningly she nodded, tight-lipped.

  He got the message and she thought he squared his shoulders slightly before he walked steadily back into the office.

  Karen stayed in the workshop. Ben must have time to adjust to what he was going to hear, she couldn't intrude. And she couldn't bear to see his face as he listened to what Saul Marston was going to say to him. If and when Ben needed her he would call for her.

  Jean and Charlie Benson were working together at the far end of the workshop and Karen avoided that corner. She didn't want any more questions from Jean just at this moment.

  She wandered up and down the aisles. It was strange that you could get so attached to a place as prosaic as a factory workshop, but over the years it had grown so familiar that it was part of her life and she loved it. The faintly antiseptic smell of the floor-cleaner that the daily woman used; the work-desks, each with its own shaded light below which the nimble fingers of the girls moved so expertly; she knew every inch of the floor space, every note of the taped music that moaned softly from a loudspeaker in one corner. They'd had those tapes for ages, she thought now, she must really see about ordering some new ones. Then she remembered, and a darkness closed down.

  Not that it showed anywhere but in her own mind— the girls all seemed to be in a particularly happy mood today, and a buzz of chat and a ripple of laughter sounded now and again between the desks. Mrs Grayson, a part-timer who was one of their best workers, looked up as Karen approached. 'Don't worry, Miss Lane,' she smiled. 'We're getting on with the work. It's Doreen's birthday today, that's what all the excitement's about, and she's going to get her engagement ring this evening.'

  'Oh, how splendid, I must go and congratulate her.'

  For as long as it took to talk to young Doreen and take pleasure in her radiant happiness, Karen forgot everything else. Then Doreen said shyly, 'I think Mr Clark wants you, Miss Lane,' arid Karen spun round to see Ben standing in the office entrance door, waving to her.

  She went straight to the chair at her desk and sank into it. Ben closed the office door behind her and as he turned back she could hardly believe what she saw. His blue eyes were shining and he was beaming all over his face.

  He made a thumbs-up sign. 'We may be home and dry,' he said.

  Karen could only stare at him blankly. Her inside felt as if she had taken a step up in the dark that wasn't there at all.

  'Marston was most encouraging,' Ben paced up and down the office, brimming with nervous energy. 'Oh, not with the office set-up or the business accounts— those were all rubbish as far as he was concerned. He actually said that it was a pity that we were functioning on such a pathetically small budget when we had such an excellent product—or maybe several products, for he seemed quite taken with my new idea here.' He patted the drawings that were still laid out on the desk.

  'He asked me a lot of questions,' Ben went on, perching on the edge of the desk beside Karen. 'Whether we had room to expand here—take on more staff, and of course I said yes. Then he wanted to know about the cash situation—whether I'd be prepared for one of his accountants to come in and take over the immediate day-to-day cash affairs, underpinned by his own credit-worthiness. That would be temporary—for the time I was away.'

  'Away?' Karen echoed faintly. 'Tell me slowly, Ben, I can take it all in at once.'

  'He wants me to sit in on a conference next week,' Ben said triumphantly. 'Fly out to Mexico, all expenses paid. Acapulco, believe it or not, where all the lovely people go to play. That's the kind of spot that blokes like Saul Marston choose for their conferences. He wants me to meet the directors of the other companies in his group. He thinks my stuff may be of interest to some of them.'

  He went round and sank into his chair and suddenly his eyes were glassy, his shoulders slumped. 'It's too much all at once, Karen love. I can't believe it's really happening.'

  I can't either, Karen thought. She felt like a pricked balloon. She'd been all buoyed up, expecting to hear the worst, to try to console Ben, or at least to stick by him. And now—this. She had certainly misjudged the enigmatic Saul Marston, bu
t her dislike of him hadn't changed one little bit. Had he deliberately misled her? she wondered. Or was he just the kind of man who liked to adopt a Sphinx-like outward approach? Did he think it added to his wonderful mystique? Oh, she thought angrily, he was just hateful.

  'It's wonderful,' she said. 'Marvellous news. When do you go?'

  'Thursday. The tickets will be booked and waiting to be picked up at Heathrow. And he'll be in Mexico City himself when we arrive. The plan is to contact him there and we'll all go on to Acapulco together.'

  'Sounds like an exciting trip.' Karen said. 'I'm so very glad for you, Ben. You deserve success.' She was glad, of course she was. It was just that she would have been happier if the saviour of the company had been someone less intolerable than the intolerable Saul Marston. Still, it wasn't likely that she would have to encounter him much—perhaps never again. He wouldn't be visiting this minor addition to his empire very often. 'I'll hold the fort here while you're away, of course, and be of any assistance I can to this accountant person, whoever he is.'

  Ben lifted his head. 'But—didn't I tell you—you're coming with me, Karen.'

  She was stunned into silence for several moments. Then, 'Me?' she croaked. 'Oh no, Ben, you must have got it wrong. Why should I come?'

  He shook his head, smiling. 'Because I can't do without you,' he said softly. Then he laughed. 'No, Karen, that's just my personal feeling. What Marston said was, "Bring that assistant of yours along. We need a bright girl like that to take minutes of the meetings and supervise reports. We'll get temporary typists out there but we must have someone capable of taking charge and collating the whole proceedings." He thought you could make a good job of that, Karen. And so do I.' Ben chuckled delightedly. 'Your passport's O.K.? Good. Then off we go on Thursday.' He closed his eyes. 'It'll be like a marvellous holiday, in between the meetings. We'll savour the luxurious delights of Acapulco. Lie on the beach, swim in the blue, blue Pacific. It'll be high season there in January.'

  He got up and came and stood behind her chair and put both hands on her shoulders, giving her a little hug. 'What do you say, Karen?'

  She swallowed, staring straight ahead. She should be enthusing with him, agreeing eagerly. But something was standing in the way, a vague, threatening presentiment of danger ahead. And it seemed to be personified in the tall, dark, inscrutable form of Saul Marston.

  He must have been planning this in his mind even before he left here this morning. That was why he had said, 'How's your shorthand?' He must have known what he intended to do—and yet he hadn't given her a clue when she asked him. He had even misled her, quite deliberately it seemed to her now.

  'I—I can't quite take it in all at once,' she stammered. 'I never expected—look, Ben, it isn't that I don't want to come, but do you mind if I talk it over with my parents this evening before I finally decide? I could let you know in the morning.'

  There was a short pause and she knew he was disappointed. But he said, 'No, of course I don't mind, if that's what you want.' His hands dropped from her shoulders and he moved away.

  He turned over the papers on the desk absently, not looking at them. Then he said abruptly, 'Would you be very sweet and not wait until the morning to let me know? Give me a ring at home tonight when you've decided. It doesn't matter how late it is. Will you do that?'

  She nodded. She was playing for time, she knew. Neither of her parents would put obstacles in the way. And if, when she had thought it over, the answer was No, then it might be easier not to have to face Ben when she told him. 'I'll do that,' she promised.

  Asking her parents for their opinion was a formality, as Karen had thought it would be. Her father, a large good-humoured man, tired after a long evening surgery, had smiled rather absently and said, 'Very nice for you, my dear, it'll do you good to have a break. Will you need any jabs?' And when Karen said no, there was only smallpox advised and she had had a booster last year, he had nodded his head and slumped into his armchair, his nose in the British Medical Journal.

  Her mother breezed in from the hospital later. Dr Esther Lane, a slim, tawny-haired woman, specialised in child psychiatry and Karen often felt slightly overawed by her successful, enthusiastic mother, who never seemed to be tired, however long and difficult her work day.

  'Good for you, Karen,' she cried when her daughter broke the news. 'It'll be a splendid experience for you. Come along into the kitchen and we'll make some supper and you can tell me all about it. How about that then, James? We have a clever daughter, it seems.'

  Dr James Lane laid down his medical journal and said mildly, 'But I always knew that, my dear.'

  His wife shrugged off her sheepskin coat and threw it carelessly over the back of a chair. 'I take back all I ever said about dead-end jobs, Karen,' she said gaily. She had been disappointed when Karen had elected to do secretarial training instead of going on to university, but both her parents believed in allowing her to make her own choices.

  As they prepared supper together in the kitchen Karen's mother bombarded her with questions. Who was this Saul Marston and what would be the position with regard to Clark's now? How would Karen's own job be affected? Was there any chance of her moving to work for Mr Marston?

  'Oh, I hope not,' Karen said, cutting into a loaf somewhat viciously. 'As a matter of fact I didn't care for the man at all. He was far too pleased with himself. Too much the successful entrepreneur that we hear about all the time.'

  Dr Lane pulled a knowing face. 'We need all the successful entrepreneurs we can get in this country,' she said firmly. 'What's the good of doing anything if you're not successful? I'm very glad this break has come for you, Karen. And for Mr Clark as well,' she added as an afterthought. 'As you know I never thought he would make very much of that company of his. He never seemed to me to have the necessary drive.'

  Karen wasn't going to argue with her mother about Ben—it was an old point of disagreement between them. 'Mr Marston has plenty of drive anyway,' she laughed. 'But I'm not sure that I like him.'

  Her mother tipped a basinful of beaten eggs into sizzling fat in an omlette pan, deftly wielding a spatula. 'Well, you don't have to like him,' she pointed out practically, 'but you'd be an idiot to miss an opportunity like this. Now, how about clothes? You'll need something really dashing for Acapulco. It'll be high season there. Your last summer dresses won't do at all.' She folded chopped mushrooms into the omlette in the pan. 'Four light dresses should do for the daytime—a couple of cocktail dresses—you can take that little white jacket for evenings. And you'll want beachwear and ‑'

  'Mother—stop,' Karen laughed helplessly. 'This is a business trip. I'm going out as Ben's P.A.—not as a film star!'

  'Nevertheless you need to look good.' Dr Lane carried plates to the table. 'We'll go into town and do a shop on Saturday, Karen, Now, run into the living-room and tell Daddy that supper's ready.'

  Going to summon her father, Karen thought ruefully that her mind had been made up for her. But she had to admit that her mother had only confirmed what she herself had already decided. Even her dislike of Saul Marston couldn't weigh in the balance against the interesting and glamorous prospect of a week in Acapulco. And even more important, Ben really wanted to have her with him and she couldn't let Ben down.

  She would ring him after supper and tell him she would go.

  On Wednesday afternoon Ben called a meeting of all the staff in his office, even down to the boys in the despatch department. They gathered round the desk and against the walls and Karen thought the more senior of them looked faintly apprehensive. The dreaded word 'redundancy' seemed to be floating in the air.

  But Ben's first words dispelled the atmosphere of uneasiness. He perched on the desk in his easy, friendly way, and looked around the crowded office with a smile. 'I've asked you all to come in because there may be a few changes in the pipe-line that I think you should know about. The fact is that the time seems to be coming when we shall have to think about expanding, and there are plans to form some s
ort of tie-up with a consortium of companies headed by Mr Saul Marston. Some of you may have met Mr Marston when he came here a day or two ago. Now let me say, first of all, that none of you need worry about your jobs—the change won't affect them in any way at all.'

  An audible sigh of relief sounded round the office. 'Nothing has been finalised yet,' Ben went on. 'I'm going away tomorrow for a few days to attend a conference in Mexico and I'm taking Karen along with me.' He threw a brief smile in her direction. 'I shall know more about the plans when I come back and I promise to keep you all in the picture. While I'm away one of Mr Marston's accountants, Mr Ward, will be in charge of the office. I think that's about all for the moment. Thank you for coming. If anyone has any questions I'll do my best to answer them, but there isn't much more I can tell you just now.'

  There was a buzz of talk as the staff filed out of the office on their way back to the workshop. 'Charlie,' Ben called the workshop manager back. 'Hang on a bit, will you. And Jean ...'

  Ben indicate a couple of chairs. Charlie pulled out a chair for Jean and she sat down abruptly, turning her back on Karen, who had been at her own desk across the office while Ben had been speaking.

  Ben leaned forward across the desk towards them. 'I just wanted to say that—for all practical purposes— I'm leaving you two in charge. This Mr Ward will be here to keep track of the office, but he won't take any responsibility for the workshop. Any decisions that have to be made about the work in hand will be your province, Charlie.' He turned to Jean with a smile. 'And I'm sure you'll cope with any staff matters that crop up, Jean, with your usual tact and understanding.'

  Karen saw Jean's pale cheeks flush and her eyes were fixed on Ben with an intent, almost yearning gaze.

  'O.K.?' Ben stood up as Charlie and Jean murmured their assent. He was thanking them now for their loyalty and support, shaking them both by the hand, promising good times ahead for everyone. When they had left the office, closing the door behind them, Ben sank back into his chair and pushed his hair back with a shaking hand.