Nobody Asked Me

by Mary Burchell

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘It’s the only way we can manage it, you know. Because we shall have to leave in early November.’ He sounded a little troubled.

  ‘I know. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Doesn’t it? You make things very easy,’ he said gently. But Alison didn’t think ‘easy’ was quite the word to describe that evening. She felt terribly tired-emotionally tired-and more than once during the evening she found herself wincing uncontrollably because Julian’s tenderness to her was all a pretence.

  It was very well done, but it was pretence. It couldn’t be anything else. Only a few hours ago she had seen him white and distraught because another girl had thrown aside his love for her.

  And every now and then, like an electric sign flashing out in the night, there flickered across her memory the words she had heard him say to Rosalie that day weeks ago in the library:

  ‘The girl’s nothing whatever to me. I don’t care two pins about her.’

  Once she thought in panic, ‘What have I done? It can’t be anything but terrible, being married to an indifferent Julian, yet feeling as I do. I must have been mad to rush so.crazily into this.’

  Then she remembered his saying, ‘You’re a good, brave child.’ And she thought, with a little humble rush of gratitude, that, in a way, she had been allowed to save him.

  At the end of the evening, he drew her out into the hall to say good night to her.

  ‘I shall look in to-morrow and see you then,’ he told her. And that, too, was oddly like the first evening. Only, of course, she hadn’t really seen him for months after he had said that before.

  Didn’t he remember? Men were so queerly insensitive, she thought. Or perhaps it was just that she was ridiculously sensitive that evening.

  She drew a long breath, and just then he gave a very slight exclamation and stared hard at her upper arm.

  ‘What have you done to your arm?’

  She didn’t say anything. She knew what it was without having to look at the five tiny bruises.

  Very lightly he fitted his fingers and thumb against the marks.

  ‘Did I do that?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said quickly.

  But he looked extraordinarily concerned. She thought he was going to say something. And then, the next moment, he had bent his head and touched her arm very gently with his lips.

  ‘I’m sorry, my child. That seems very poor gratitude. But thank you for everything.’

  His voice was not entirely steady, and he went away after that without even saying good night.

  But Alison didn’t notice. She couldn’t have said a word herself. She only stood there with her hand over her arm, as though she would hold the imprint of his first kiss there.

  At last, with a little sigh, she turned and went back into the room where the rest of the family were.

  The moment she came in, Rosalie turned on her.

  ‘What do you imagine you’re doing?’ she demanded furiously. ‘Have you no decency at all-snatching at Julian less than ten minutes after he was free?’

  Alison pushed back her hair from her forehead with a characteristic gesture of nervousness.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re complaining, Rosalie. You don’t want Julian. You said so-without much display of the decency you mention. Well, I do want him and’-her voice trembled very slightly-’and he wants me. You’re going to be happy with Rodney Myrton. Why shouldn’t Julian and I be happy too?’

  ‘And do you really suppose I’m fool enough to believe that Julian really wants you?’ Rosalie’s cold contempt was very hard to stand. ‘You’re just a sort of salve to his injured vanity because-’

  ‘I’m not discussing that with you,’ Alison interrupted quietly. ‘Julian is my fiancé now, you might remember.’ And, fantastic though the whole situation was, she felt a warm, illogical feeling of pride and tenderness run all through her as she said that.

  Rosalie began to speak again, but at this point Uncle Theodore seemed to think it time he took a hand. He turned from something he was saying to his wife and remarked:

  ‘I think that is enough, Rosalie. You can’t possibly have both young men without committing bigamy, and I am sure you wouldn’t dream of doing anything that would have such unpleasant consequences for yourself. Leave your cousin and her affairs alone. Julian is not your concern any longer. And you would give a more dignified impression if you didn’t show your disappointed spite so clearly.’

  His stepdaughter didn’t reply. She gave him a look of intense dislike-which appeared to leave him entirely unmoved-and went out of the room without saying good night even to her mother.

  ‘Well, Alison’-Alison couldn’t help feeling that in some obscure way her uncle was enjoying all this-’we shan’t have any too much time to prepare for your wedding. But still, we must arrange something very nice for you.’

  Alison was so moved at this that she flushed until the tears came into her eyes. But her aunt spoke very sharply.

  ‘I should think the best thing would be to have absolutely no fuss. She had better be married quietly in a register office.’

  ‘Certainly not.’ Uncle Theodore was almost amiable for him, and quite determined. ‘That’s no sort of marriage for a young girl. I am sure Alison agrees with me.’

  ‘I-I’d rather be married in a church,’ Alison said in a low voice.

  ‘Of course,’ her uncle said. ‘And, as a matter of fact, you’ll make an extremely pretty bride. You shall have things just as you want them.’

  ‘Oh, Uncle!’ Alison went to him suddenly and hid her face against his arm. ‘You are good to me. I don’t know why.’

  Her uncle stroked her hair a little, very much to her surprise, and somewhat to his own, she thought. ‘It’s because you are a good, undemanding child,’ he told her.

  ‘Really, Theodore.’ Aunt Lydia couldn’t hide her vexed astonishment. ‘You seem a great deal better pleased and more interested about Julian’s engagement to Alison than ever you were when he was to marry Rosalie.’

  ‘I am,’ her husband said coolly. ‘I imagine Alison is genuinely fond of him, whereas Rosalie was marrying him simply for his money. And, of course,’ he added reflectively, ‘to marry a man for his money is about the most despicable thing any woman can do.’

  Alison felt frightened at the expressionless way her uncle looked all over his wife, without appearing to see her. There was something unnerving in this passion of contemptuous dislike which never found expression in words.

  But apparently Aunt Lydia was not so sensitive, or else she was a good actress. For after a moment she said with plaintive mildness:

  ‘Well, I don’t see how we’re going to afford two expensive weddings so close together.’

  ‘Then Rosalie can wait,’ was the curt reply.That did shake Aunt Lydia.

  ‘Rosalie-wait’? For Alison? Really, Theodore, I think you’re forgetting that Alison is really no relation of yours at all.’

  ‘Nor is Rosalie,’ retorted her husband brutally. ‘And, of the two, I would rather spend my money on Alison. She has always seemed to me to be a grateful, docile child, and very eager to please. I have never found Rosalie anything but a grasping, selfish, quite exceptionally disagreeable young person. That is all I have to say about it. And now, Alison, you had better run along to bed.’

  Alison thought so too, and, with an impulsive hug for her uncle and a rather embarrassed good night to her aunt, she went away upstairs.

  When she woke next morning she lay for quite a few minutes, watching the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, and wondering why a sense of frightened exhilaration seemed to struggle with a feeling of apprehension.

  Then suddenly she remembered.

  She snatched her left hand out from under the coverlet. It was quite true. The thick gold of Julian’s signet ring glimmered on her finger.

  For a moment she pressed her hand hard against her cheek so that she could feel his ring there-the ring which he himse
lf had worn. He had said something about buying her another one-’anything she liked’. But she thought wistfully that she would much rather have kept this one.

  Presently she got up and went downstairs. Her aunt and Rosalie were breakfasting in their rooms, but her uncle was already down, so she joined him.

  He glanced up from The Times, said, ‘Good morning, Alison,’ absently, and then went back to his paper.

  Alison wondered whether he were a little ashamed of his show of feeling last night, or whether it was that his interest had genuinely evaporated.

  However, when he had finished his breakfast he folded up his newspaper with his usual precision, and looked across at her.

  ‘I suppose there’s a good deal to be done about your trousseau and that sort of thing,’ he said with masculine vagueness.

  ‘Well, I suppose-there is,’ Alison admitted a little uncomfortably.

  Her uncle thoughtfully balanced his coffee-spoon on the edge of his cup.

  ‘I spoke to your aunt last night about it, and she doesn’t seem specially anxious to take the business in hand. Perhaps she feels she has enough to do for Rosalie already.’ He adjusted the balance of the spoon with meticulous care.

  They didn’t look at each other, and after a moment Alison said gravely, ‘I dare say she does.’

  Uncle Theodore cleared his throat.

  ‘It seems a bit of a responsibility for you on your own. Especially considering that you’re only out of school six or seven months. Have you any woman friend you can consult about it?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Alison looked surprised. She hadn’t had many opportunities of making friends.

  ‘Well, you’d better speak to Julian about it.’ Her uncle had evidently come to the end of his suggestions. ‘One of his partners probably has a wife or a mother or someone he could ask I’m afraid I can’t help you over anything much but the bills.’ And he smiled a little grimly.

  ‘Oh, Uncle, I shan’t need very much-really.’ Alison spoke distressedly.

  ‘Nonsense, my dear, of course you will. Julian is a very rich man, with a big position to keep up. You don’t suppose I should let you go to him looking like a shabby little nobody?’

  ‘It seems-such a shame,’ Alison said in a low voice.

  ‘What does?’

  ‘That you-you’re always called on to do the paying.’

  Her uncle laughed a little.

  ‘I assure you that twenty years of constant practice has perfected my technique,’ he said drily. ‘You needn’t bother your head about that.’ And he patted her fair, silky head not unkindly as he went off.

  Alison had no wish to see either Rosalie or Aunt Lydia just then, so she deliberately made some jobs for herself in her own room.

  Then presently one of the servants knocked on the door, to say that Mr. Tyndrum was waiting in the library.

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ll come.’

  Alison glanced at herself in the mirror, ran a comb nervously through her hair, and hurried downstairs.

  He was standing looking out of the window, his hands in his pockets, and he looked very tall and overwhelming silhouetted against the light.

  At the sound of the opening door he turned and came towards her at once.

  ‘Did you-did you want to see me?’ Alison spoke a little breathlessly, and then thought what a ridiculous thing that was to say.

  ‘Well, yes, Alison, I did.’ He looked amused. ‘We have a good deal to discuss, haven’t we?’

  Alison supposed they had.

  ‘I thought perhaps you would like to come with me now to choose your ring, and then we could have lunch together and talk things over. We haven’t a great deal of time, considering how much there is to be done before we leave.’

  She noticed a little wistfully that he didn’t use the expression ‘before we are married.’

  ‘Very well, I’d like to come to lunch with you. But, Julian-’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘About the ring. I-I’d just as soon keep this one, really.’

  He looked so much surprised that she found herself blushing furiously.

  ‘Why, Alison, what an extraordinary idea.’

  It-it is done sometimes,’ stammered Alison.

  ‘But only for sentiment’s sake, and that doesn’t apply in this case,’ he said with unconscious brutality.

  Her colour ebbed again, and she was a little surprised even herself at the way her heart shrank before his careless frankness.

  ‘Why, you silly little goose.’ He laughed and took hold of her gently by her arm. ‘Are you trying to save me money or something? The exchequer will stand the strain of whatever it is you really want.’

  With a tremendous effort she forced a smile.

  ‘Very well then. Thank you-very much.’

  ‘I believe you’ve forgotten you proposed this as a business deal,’ he reminded her amusedly. ‘Your role is to get as much out of it as possible.’

  Alison was dumb; and he saw then that he had really hurt her.

  ‘I’m sorry, my child.’ He put his arm round her and drew her against him quickly. I was only teasing you. I’m not really suggesting you’re mercenary. I know you’re not. That’s why I shall enjoy giving you things.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ Alison managed another faint smile.

  ‘Sure?’ He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She must say something that would make him let her go! She couldn’t possibly stand any sort of scrutiny.

  ‘You’ll have to tell me what you would like for a wedding present, too,’ he went on. ‘A fur coat, I suppose?’

  That gave her her chance.

  ‘Oh, Julian, that reminds me.’ She moved quickly, so that he immediately released her. ‘Uncle Theodore said I was to speak to you about choosing my-my trousseau. You see-you see, Aunt Lydia isn’t at all anxious to help me, and I’m just a bit at sea when it comes to choosing such a big wardrobe.’

  ‘Of course,’ Julian spoke slowly and a little drily. ‘Your aunt would hardly want to be helpful in the circumstances.’

  ‘She’s rather busy,’ Alison offered timidly.

  ‘Busy helping Rosalie choose her trousseau, I suppose,’ he said bitterly. And, when Alison saw the angry misery in his face, her heart turned over sickeningly.

  It showed her more clearly than anything else could have done how little she herself really counted. His forced gaiety, his little tenderness to her, just lay on the surface of his feelings. It was Rosalie-shallow, uncaring Rosalie- who had stirred the dark, still depths of his passion and affection. And, for a moment, Alison wondered if she could possibly go on with it all.

  Then Julian passed his hand over his forehead rather bewilderedly and said:

  ‘You were saying-about your trousseau-’

  She saw then, of course, that she had to go on. They were too far in it to turn back now. She couldn’t jilt him the day after Rosalie had. There were times when ridicule became the worst sort of tragedy-and that would be one of them.

  She must just struggle on with the dreary pretence that he, too, was interested in her trousseau, though it all seemed rather silly and futile now.

  ‘Well, Uncle Theodore suggested that probably you would know somebody-I mean, a relation of one of your partners or someone like that-who wouldn’t mind helping me.’

  She had a horrid sense of being in everyone’s way again, and she rather wished she had undertaken to muddle along on her own.

  But Julian seemed to find it quite a reasonable suggestion.

  ‘Yes, of course. Jennifer Langtoft would be just the person. Simon Langtoft is our European sales manager,’ he added, ‘and I’ve known them both for years.’

  ‘Is Jennifer his wife?’

  ‘No, his sister.’

  ‘And do you think she would mind?’

  ‘Not in the least. It’s the kind of thing she loves. If you like, I’ll ring up Simon while you are getting ready, and see if they can both ha
ve dinner with us somewhere tonight,’ Julian said.

  Thank you, Julian.’.

  He gave her a little nod and picked up the telephone as she went out of the room.

  By the time she came back, he appeared to have settled the business satisfactorily, because he said, Is eight o’clock at the Mirabelle all right for you?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Alison assured him, and couldn’t help wondering how he had explained the change in fiancées.

  As Julian turned the grey Daimler into Knightsbridge Alison asked, ‘Does Jennifer Langtoft live with her brother?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then he’s not married?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Julian laughed a little. ‘He’s not at all the marrying sort.’

  ‘What sort is he?’

  Julian was looking ahead at the traffic lights.

  ‘Well, I suppose you would call him the kind that women always run after but never catch.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that sounds very nice,’ Alison said.

  ‘He is, I assure you. He can’t help being attractive, you know,’ Julian said amusedly.

  ‘Is he good-looking?’

  ‘No, not specially. At least, I shouldn’t call him so. But perhaps a woman would. Anyway, you will see him for yourself this evening.’

  The car turned into Bond Street.

  ‘And what is she like?’

  ‘Oh, Jennifer is good-looking-very,’ Julian said warmly. ‘Tall and dark, dresses well, and- Here we are.’

  He drew the car to a standstill, and Alison realised that she had only been talking so much because she was nervous. She didn’t really care what Simon Langtoft and his sister were like. But if she had sat in silence, turning over the thought that she was going with Julian to buy her engagement ring, her very heart-beats would have choked her.

  In a dream she stared at the trays of rings that were set out for her inspection. She hadn’t the remotest idea what sort of ring she wanted. She felt as though she couldn’t possibly bring her mind to bear on the question.

  ‘Have you any special preference, Alison?’

  Julian was standing beside her, eyeing the rings with polite attention.

  ‘No. I-well, I think perhaps diamonds, don’t you?’