by Iris Danbury
As she looked at him, he frowned. ‘No. I never thought about anything else. I grew up knowing that eventually it’d be my job to take it over.’
‘Then what’s made you change?’ she queried, believing that he wanted to tell her what was in his mind, yet shrank from uttering the words.
‘Oh, come on, let’s have that tea. We’re nearly in the village.’
She was perplexed by his tantalizing attitude, but wisely she said no more until they had been fortified by an excellent tea at the village inn. Fenella concentrated on noting the quality of the scones, the home-made jam, the rich but light fruit cake, and complimented the innkeeper’s wife.
Afterwards, Alex was all for driving straight home, but Fenella said, ‘We ought to see something of the other side of the village, what it’s like for walking and so on. We’ve plenty of time.’
A burn trickled and tumbled over green-brown stones and Fenella was reminded of the colour of Cameron’s hazel eyes, but she drove that thought from her head.
‘Let’s sit down for a few minutes,’ she suggested, when they came to some convenient boulders. Mechanically, Alex obeyed.
‘Why won’t you tell me what is troubling you, Alex? Surely you can tell me. I might be able to help.’
He looked at her and smiled. If Cameron had looked at her like that her bones would have turned to water and she realized that she, too, must disclose some of her own feelings to Alex.
‘You’re just about the last person, Fenella, that I can tell.’
‘Try.’
After a long pause he asked, ‘D’you like this Cameron Ramsay fellow?’
She was surprised by his question. ‘I don’t know that I like him. He has admirable qualities, but he’s often irritating.’ She hoped that Alex would not notice that her colour had deepened.
‘How much d’you think Miriam likes him?’
‘Oh, they get on well together. But then they’d have to. She has an important position now at the Gairmorlie and you couldn’t have the manager and housekeeper at loggerheads.’
Alex leaned over on one elbow, and chewed a long grass stalk. ‘I’m pretty sure she means to marry him.’
Fenella went rigid. ‘What makes you think so?’
He sat up abruptly. ‘I’d better tell you the lot, Fen dear.’
She was touched by his use of her old childhood pet name.
‘I suppose I first began to feel sorry for her. She was young to be widowed, she’d been given a raw deal and she had a child to support.’
Fenella remained silent when he paused, not needing to be told that he was talking of Miriam.
‘At first we were no more than friendly neighbours. I went to the Gairmorlie on the same basis as I’d always gone, sometimes to see your father, stay for a meal, that sort of thing. In bad weather in the winter I called for Jamie and took him to school or I’d take Miriam to Fort William for shopping or lunch. Then suddenly I found I was in love with her.’
‘And Miriam?’ queried Fenella softly.
‘I thought she loved me, too. She said she did, many times.’
‘Then why didn’t you ask her to marry you?’
‘I did, but she wanted to wait. She felt that she was being unfair to you, that you’d always known me and that you might expect to marry me. She promised that she’d give me a definite “Yes” after you came home from London for your holiday here.’
‘What happened to make her change her mind?’
‘Your father sold the hotel and at first that seemed to swing her my way. She needed me. I could at least offer her a home for herself and Jamie. I’m fond of the boy. Then your father became ill, so I brought you home from London rather sooner than expected. I begged Miriam to let me tell you that I wanted to marry her or to tell you herself, but she refused. Then this Canadian fellow came along.’
Fenella waited until Alex chose to pick up the thread again.
‘I think maybe that she wanted to be a trifle independent, that she didn’t want to appear eager to grab the first man who’d asked her to marry again. But the delay hit me where it hurt. It hasn’t taken long for her to make up her mind and she’s very definite now that her future is not going to include me.’
‘Has she told you that?’
‘Oh, yes. Several times.’ Alex mustered a smile. ‘She has other plans now, she says, and Cameron is more in her line of country. She’d rather be the wife of a hotel manager than a farmer’s.’
‘I see. Then if you love Miriam, why did you ask me to marry you?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m ashamed of that, Fen. I wanted to bolster up my pride, I suppose. You must forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. You know that.
‘I had several reasons, but all of them make me sound a heel. I wanted to let Miriam see that I wasn’t going to crawl to her. I had vague ideas about trying to make her jealous. Then there was your point of view. I thought that if our families had led you to expect us to marry, and you were keen, we might make a go of it. But it wasn’t like that, was it, Fen?’
‘No. I didn’t want to hurt you either. We’d always been such good friends, but I couldn’t feel any more for you than that. I can only see you the same as Laurie does, an affectionate brother.’ Fenella added hastily, ‘I know that sounds insulting, but I don’t mean it that way.’
Alex smiled and grasped her hand. ‘You’re sweet, Fen, and the man who gets you will be damned lucky. I wonder sometimes if Miriam had never come here, what then? You and I might have drifted into marriage and been happy in a humdrum way. Perhaps that’s all most people get. Humdrum happiness.’
Fenella’s eyes lit with animation. ‘Let’s both hope that our future has something better in store.’
On the homeward journey Alex seemed in better spirits and Fenella reacted to his lighter mood. No problem had been solved for either of them, but this frank talk had at least provided a sympathetic understanding and cleared the air of repressed emotions.
Naturally she would not reveal to Alex her suspicions that his sister Laurie and Cameron might be on the way to something more than friendship appropriate between hotel manager and one of the younger receptionists. She had no proof yet, and even if she had, the news might not solve anything for Alex. If Cameron eventually became attached to Laurie, it might mean that Miriam would return to the former footing with Alex, but Fenella decided that she had better stand aloof from these cross-currents, especially as she herself was also involved. Whatever she said or hinted to anyone might be twisted against her.
Cameron was talking to Angus outside the hotel entrance when Fenella and Alex returned. Cameron gave her a wave of acknowledgment, then continued his conversation with the old gardener.
Fenella went to the reception office to take over from Laurie and to write her report on the afternoon’s outing. In that slack period before dinner, when hotel guests are in their rooms or strolling in leisurely from outdoor pleasures, Norah, the Irish waitress, came to the reception counter.
Fenella was engaged on the telephone and when she had finished, she asked, ‘Yes, Norah? Did you want something?’
‘Nothing at all.’ She fixed Fenella with a hostile stare. ‘Are ye typing out a list of our sins?’ she nodded towards the papers in the typewriter.
Fenella laughed. ‘Of course not. I’ve something better to do. What sins are you guilty about?’
‘ ’Tis a great thing to be someone and able to go out and about with the young men in their cars. Sure, ’tis a lady’s job ye have here.’
Fenella sighed. ‘I do my work, same as anyone else. After I’ve been out, I have to do these reports so that we know what to recommend to the visitors.’
A malevolent gleam came into Norah’s dark eyes. ‘Then here’s something else ye can be putting down in your report. Ye can tell the boss that some of us are not wholly satisfied working here.’
‘Why not? I thought Mr. Ramsay had fixed very good conditions for all the staff.’
‘Not for the likes of me. I
t’s the tips I miss. Other places I’ve been used to having my whack at the end of the month.’
‘But Mr. Ramsay has specially abolished all the tipping, unless it’s for very special extra service,’ protested Fenella. ‘He says it’s degrading for staff to hold out their hands and he prefers to pay more than adequate wages.’
‘Having tips has never degraded me,’ Norah insisted. ‘And I’m not liking the way we work in the restaurant—what they call the team system. I like best my own tables.’
‘Mr. Ramsay decides what system is used,’ Fenella reminded her, ‘and anyway, why don’t you talk to Alvaro about it? It’s not really my department.’
Norah gave a cunning smile. ‘No, but you have the ear of His Lordship and I’ll be hoping that you’ll pour me words into it.’
Alvaro’s appearance at the door of the restaurant caused Norah to hurry away, but for a few moments Fenella stared at the girl’s disappearing back. A big, raw-boned girl with a flat-footed walk, the delightful uniform of silver-grey nylon did not suit her so well as some of the other, slimmer girls.
How many were dissatisfied? she wondered. Or was that merely exaggeration on Norah’s part? Yet she could not ignore the complaint and at the first opportunity she told Cameron without mentioning Norah’s name.
Cameron grunted. ‘This tipping business!’ he said explosively. ‘I really believe that if you paid some waitresses three thousand a year, they’d still be hankering after the extra ten-bob note at the end of the week. I pay every member of the staff well above the average and far more than the minimum laid down by the catering authorities. They get extra pay if they work overtime or extra shifts for someone else. But I won’t have tipping unless a visitor has put the staff to more than usual trouble. What was the other thing about team work?’
‘This girl said that she liked to keep to her own tables.’
‘Yes, and keep visitors waiting endlessly for the next course or clean plates. That, too, is something that she and others will have to get used to. Alvaro is a very good team-master with the eye that anticipates when a diner needs service. This business of “Oh, it’s not my table”—when a visitor is waiting ten minutes—is out of date. In most Continental hotels, the better ones, anyway, the team system works well.’
After a pause, Cameron continued, ‘Gradually I shall try to replace the waitresses with men.’
‘You don’t think much of the women, then?’
‘Oh, they’re always too taken up with petty grievances. The local village women are all right at breakfast, but otherwise—no. I shall engage at least two more commis, promising boys who can train under the waiters and also attend to room service.’
Fenella, having passed on Norah’s grumble, naturally assumed that the matter was finished. Having told Cameron she thought someone else would take action if necessary. She was therefore surprised when some days later Miriam asked her to go to the housekeeper’s sitting-room. Miriam now had a private room on the second floor at the junction of the old building and the new wing.
Jamie was fiddling with pieces of jigsaw puzzle.
‘Take all that into your bedroom, Jamie,’ Miriam commanded him.
The boy glanced up at Fenella. ‘Look, Fenella, I saved some pieces from my plaster.’
On a small shelf were jagged pieces of plaster broken off his wrist; some of the small caricatures were intact, McPhail the foreman, the two of Miriam and Cameron facing each other and ringed with oval frames, but only half of Fenella’s face was there. What significance could be read into these fragments obviously cherished in Miriam’s room?’
‘Please, Jamie, do as I say,’ Miriam said in a sharper tone.
‘Oh, if it’s only Fenella—’ grumbled the boy. ‘I might as well stay, but I’ll go if you want me to.’
When he had gone, Fenella looked enquiringly at Miriam, who did not speak for several moments. Then she said, ‘I’ve asked you to see me, Fenella, because I think you don’t realize how easily staff can be made unsettled.’
‘In what way?’ Fenella was puzzled.
‘It seemed that you hinted to Cameron that the restaurant staff were moaning about some trivial matter.’
‘Well, they were—or at least one of them was.’
‘Which one?’ asked Miriam.
‘Cameron didn’t ask me to identify any particular person, so I’d rather not say now,’ replied Fenella.
Miriam’s dark eyes glittered with what Fenella could only guess was frustration. ‘Then I can only tell you that when Cameron made enquiries, quite discreetly, of course, not a single waiter or waitress had the vestige of complaint.’
‘Then someone changed her tune,’ retorted Fenella. ‘But that’s quite common. People complain to their equals but are much more diffident when it comes to the boss.’
Miriam shrugged. ‘Maybe. But the point I want to impress on you is that interference in staff matters is not going to do you much good. Already, the fact that you’re Mr. Sutherland’s daughter weighs against you.’
‘Why?’
‘Other girls believe that you’re favoured and enjoy considerable privileges.’
‘But I don’t. I’ve been most careful not to take advantage of my father’s position.’
‘Former position,’ corrected Miriam coldly.
‘He’s still a director, even if a minor one,’ Fenella said sharply.
‘I don’t really understand why you’re so determined to stay here.’ Miriam seemed to be starting a new line of attack.
‘Not to worry,’ replied Fenella with more flippancy than she had intended. ‘I shall be going in the autumn.’
‘Oh? Does your father know?’
‘No, and I don’t want to tell him yet—not until I have a definite job to start.’
‘Your secret is safe with me,’ replied Miriam, with a cool smile. ‘Poor Alex,’ she murmured.
Fenella flared up in anger. ‘Poor Alex? Why?’
Miriam gave her a level, slightly amused glance. ‘At least you might make up your mind about him and not keep him dangling.’
Fenella rose, furious, full of resentment at this hypocritical attitude of the other girl. ‘You say that to me?’ she exclaimed. ‘You were the one who kept him dangling.’
‘I? Dear Fenella, you’re very mistaken.’
‘No, I’m not,’ declared Fenella. ‘Alex told me the truth.’
‘Are you sure it was the truth?’
‘I believe Alex. You—you allowed him to fall in love with you. Then you saw the opportunity of someone else, so you hesitated about Alex.’
‘Who is this someone else?’ queried Miriam.
‘You know perfectly well. Cameron Ramsay.’
For a few moments Miriam stared at Fenella. Then she stood up, pushed the chair away. ‘Between you and Alex, you seem to have concocted quite an emotional situation. I could deny every word of it, of course.’ She paused. ‘But I won’t. I’d like you to hear the truth from me, too, as well as Alex’s side. I’ve always been fond of Alex, as you know, but I didn’t want to poach on what I imagined was your ground. You’d known him all your life, your families expected the happy union. I was the outsider.’
Miriam walked a pace or two about the room. ‘I’ve always been the outsider,’ she said bitterly. ‘When I was married to Donald his family tolerated me, but never accepted me. They even blamed me for his illness, then his death. They said I’d neglected him. That, at least, wasn’t true. So when you were away so much in London, I thought it might be pleasant to find out if Alex could be attracted to me.’
‘You mean you started just like that in cold blood?’ Fenella’s tone was incredulous.
‘Not exactly, but I wanted to prove that I was still a woman, reasonably young, even if I was also a widow with a child. Widows don’t suddenly become a different race, Fenella. We have warm blood still coursing through our veins.’
‘I understand perfectly that in due course you’d want to marry again. Why not? But why did you ha
ve to choose Alex for your experiment?’
Miriam’s mouth curved. ‘I suppose only for the reason that he happened to be handy. This part of Scotland isn’t exactly overrun with young, presentable, unmarried men. One reason why the place becomes depopulated. First the men move away to find work, then the girls go to look for husbands.’
Fenella sat down in the nearest chair. ‘I think you’re unspeakably callous, Miriam,’ she said in a low tone. Then she raised her head. ‘What about Cameron? D’you think you can treat him the same?’
‘Certainly not,’ replied Miriam crisply. ‘The situation is entirely different. My friendship with Alex was pleasant enough while it lasted, but it’s finished now. Completely finished. If Alex doesn’t understand that, he’s a fool.’
‘A fool because he loves you,’ muttered Fenella.
‘He’ll get over it. You could help him there.’
‘I don’t love him.’
‘That’s a pity,’ commented Miriam. ‘I was hoping so much that you’d come together.’
‘And free you to entangle Cameron?’
Miriam shook her head. ‘No question of entangling, as you so crudely put it. Cameron and I have a great deal in common, we speak the same language, we have the same interests.’
‘Yes, hotel business. But is that all that Cameron demands from a wife?’
Miriam laughed, the confident chuckle of one who knows her capabilities. ‘I can give Cameron all that he could desire.’
‘You mean to marry him?’ queried Fenella calmly. She felt that this long interview was taking place between two other people, unreal as in a dream.
‘Of course. I’m glad you understand that,’ replied Miriam.
‘Suppose Cameron has other ideas?’
‘In what direction? D’you think I haven’t seen Laurie making sheep’s eyes at him, hanging on his arm? She’s only a child, merely ankle-deep in her first infatuation.’ Then Fenella let her tongue make a mistake. ‘No other rivals?’
‘If you’re putting yourself into that category, I’m afraid you’re going to be tragically disillusioned. D’you really think that one boating mishap on the loch is going to push him head over heels in love with you?’
