by Lewis Orde
*
Sally and Christopher were married at London’s Caxton Hall three months later. Again Katherine was in the wedding as a bridesmaid. Early on the morning of the wedding she went with Sally and Janet to Graham Sharp’s salon to prepare for the occasion. As Roland was driven to the salon to pick up Janet and Katherine he couldn’t help thinking of the irony of the situation. He’d made love to both Sally and Janet, yet Katherine was the offspring of the only woman he’d really loved. And, despite the relationship he’d built with Janet during the past three months, spending two or three nights a week at her Chelsea home while Elsie Partridge handled Katherine’s inquisitive comments, Roland remained convinced that he would never love anyone as he had Catarina.
‘Like my hair, Daddy? Like my hair?’ Katherine bubbled as she climbed into the car.
‘Beautiful.’ Roland kissed her on the forehead, amused by the way she pulled back to avoid disturbing the soft pageboy style. ‘But most important, will Buttercup like it?’
‘Buttercup won’t see it because I’ll be wearing a hat when I go riding. But if she could, she’d love it too,’ Katherine answered with childish logic.
Roland marveled at how his daughter, even at seven, had suddenly become ladylike, even vain. Twice during the ride she asked Janet for a mirror so she could inspect her new hairstyle, and when she thought no one was watching she touched and patted the ends to make certain everything was still in place. Charmed by his young daughter’s vanity, Roland impulsively reached out and hugged her.
Goldstein first dropped Janet off at her house, arranging to pick her up later, then he and Katherine returned to Regent’s Park to dress. While Roland put on a morning-suit with a gray top hat, Elsie helped Katherine into a long, pale yellow dress which had been especially made for the occasion. Just before noon they were back at Chelsea to pick up Janet. While Katherine waited in the car with Goldstein, Roland pressed the buzzer. After a third time he became mildly annoyed that she wasn’t ready yet. He used the key she’d given him, entered the house and called her name.
‘Upstairs, Roland.’
Something seemed wrong with her voice. Worried, Roland took the stairs two at a time, running into the front bedroom. Janet was lying on the bed, still in the dress she’d worn to the beauty parlor. Her face was pale and sweaty, the new hairstyle ruined. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘What do you think?’ she asked weakly. ‘I guess I’m not as good a nurse to myself as I am to others.’
Roland had no idea what she meant, but when she leaned over the bed he smelled the sourness of her breath. ‘Have you been sick?’
‘Clever man,’ she said. She struggled to sit up, her back against the headboard. ‘This looks like it’s going to be a lousy pregnancy.’
‘What?’ Roland’s mind began to spin. He hadn’t even considered that she might be pregnant. ‘How long have you known?’
‘I found out a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I didn’t want to steal Sally’s thunder. Pat me on the back for being so considerate.’
‘Never mind Sally’s thunder.’ All of a sudden Sally’s marriage was of no importance to Roland. ‘Do you want to call off today?’
Janet shook her head. ‘I’ll be all right in a few minutes. I just felt dizzy when I got back from Graham’s. Maybe sitting under the hair dryer had something to do with it. Why don’t you and Katherine go on ahead? I’ll catch a cab and follow later.’
‘Do you think I’d leave you here by yourself?’ He started toward the bedroom door. ‘Stay right where you are.’
‘Where would you expect me to go?’ she called after him, touched by his concern. But she was upset with herself that she hadn’t managed to keep her condition a secret for just another day. She knew how much Roland had looked forward to Sally’s wedding, how much he cared for his friend. Now she felt she’d spoiled the day for him.
Roland ran down the stairs and told Goldstein to take Katherine to the wedding. At least Sally would have a full wedding party. When he returned he found Janet struggling to her feet.
‘I’ll make you a strong cup of tea, then we’ll get you cleaned up and ready in no time,’ he said.
‘I’m supposed to be the nurse, not you,’ she answered, trying to fight off his efforts to help her.
‘When I’m sick you can nurse me.’
Janet recovered under the shower, a cap protecting what remained of her hairdo. She even managed a joke as she hurriedly dressed. ‘You seem to make a habit of this, getting nice, respectable girls in the family way. At least I haven’t got a father who’s going to give you hell.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘Monte Carlo, I think.’
‘So . . . we did win after all, even if not at the tables. Lucky at cards, unlucky at love and vice-versa . . . is that it?’
‘Stop talking about it and let’s go,’ Janet said. ‘We don’t want to miss what’s left. Sally and Christopher will never forgive us.’
‘Are you certain you’re all right?’
‘I promise I won’t pass out again. Not until tomorrow anyway.’
*
Roland stayed in Chelsea that night after sending Katherine back to Regent’s Park with Alf Goldstein. This time Janet allowed him to dote over her, watching with tender amusement as he walked around the house checking windows for drafts. ‘You remind me of my father,’ she said. ‘He used to fuss over my mother like this whenever he was on shore leave. He’d bring her up tea in bed in the morning, make breakfast, do the shopping. I think he would have approved of you.’
‘I’m glad to hear that because it’s a damned sight more than my last father-in-law ever did.’
‘Father-in-law?’ Janet put down the cup and gave Roland a sharp look. ‘Hold on just a minute. Aren’t we jumping the gun a little?’
‘What do you mean?’ Roland turned from the window he’d just closed.
‘Roland, please don’t think you’re obligated to marry me because of this. It doesn’t work like that for me.’
‘Then how does it work?’ For the first time since he’d met Janet he felt like she was a virtual stranger. Here he was, closer to her than he’d been to any woman since Catarina, only to find he didn’t know her at all.
‘Roland of all the men I’ve ever been with – and I can count them on one hand – you’re the one I would want to father my children. You obviously love children and you’re successful enough that I know they would never want for anything.’
Roland was barely listening. He felt confused. When Catarina had announced that she was pregnant it was the most natural thing in the world to plan marriage. Janet was the exact opposite.
‘Remember what you said in Monte Carlo? That a marriage without a family isn’t much of a marriage? Then what about a family without a marriage? Is that much of a family?’
‘It’s hardly the same thing, Roland. I want children of my own. You want more children. Fine. But that doesn’t mean we’re bound to get married, unless you’ve got some notion that children born outside wedlock are inferior to those born within it.’ She saw him open his mouth to say something but carried right on. ‘You’re not ready for marriage, Roland. You might be trying to convince yourself you are, but you’re not.’
‘What makes you such an expert?’
‘I’ve worked with enough families to become something of one. I’ve nursed the children of young couples who never had any business getting married, and those kids received more love from me than they’ll ever get from their parents. Marriage needs a certain psychological commitment. You need to be ready for it, and I don’t think you are right now.’
‘Have you quite finished?’
‘I’m not even halfway through yet. Roland, you just think you want to get married because you want more children, and it happens to be me you got pregnant because we made love—’
‘Too impetuously?’
‘And too well, but enjoyable nonet
heless. Roland, I love you, I really do—’
‘Then marry me.’
She smiled softly to take the sting out of her next words. ‘If I knew it would be forever, I’d say yes – but it won’t be forever.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because we’d never be equal partners. I’d never be as important to you as you’d be to me. You’re a man who divides his life into little sections, compartments; call them whatever you like. In one compartment you put your family obligations. In another you put your business, and that’s probably the most important compartment of all. I’ve seen you do it with Katherine. When you were with her, she was the most precious thing in your life, but how often did you think of her when you were working? When you were running around the country buying up stores? You shut her out of your mind, knowing you’d arranged to have her looked after like royalty until you came home and had the time to be a full-time father again. Things don’t overlap for you. You work at one thing at a time to the virtual exclusion of everything else. Any woman you marry will have to learn to put up with that kind of a life, and I’m not prepared to.’
Roland sat down, hands on his knees, unable to think of any argument. Janet understood him too well . . . in fact, he thought, she may be right, though he’d never considered it in those terms – he did live like that, able to cut himself off from one part of his life while he concentrated on another. Hadn’t he shielded himself from the pain of Catarina’s death by throwing himself into his work?
‘So where do we go from here?’ he asked, completely dependent now on Janet’s judgment. Whatever she wanted would be all right with him.
‘I’ll stay here and you continue to live at Regent’s Park. That way we’ll both know what compartment you’ve placed me into.’
‘But no marriage?’
‘Not for the time being. We’ll both be happier that way.’
‘How do you figure that?’
‘It’ll save us the bother and bitterness of getting a divorce.’
The comment brought a smile to Roland’s face. ‘Aren’t you going to brush one hand against the other now?’
At first, Janet didn’t understand. Then she burst out laughing. ‘You know me as well as I know you. I’m saving that for when we call it a day.’
Roland’s new concern was the effect his unconventional lifestyle might have on Katherine. His staying with Janet in Chelsea two or three nights a week was one matter, but fathering a child by a woman whom he was neither married to nor living with was another problem entirely. Surely that would confuse the girl, and she’d already been through more than her fair share of confusion for one so young.
His worries, though, proved unfounded. Katherine accepted her father’s explanation that she would soon have a baby brother or sister quite readily, just as she’d always accepted the fact that she had a father but no mother. It was as if she had become quite accustomed to having a family life totally different from that of her friends, full of people whom she thought of as aunts and uncles. Never having known what it would be like to have a mother, Katherine saw nothing odd about her father spending time away from home with the young woman who would give birth to her baby brother, Richard, named for Janet’s father. Janet was kinder to her than any mother could have been, and that was all that mattered.
Within three years, Janet and Roland were expecting again, this time a girl whom they named Carol, after Janet’s mother. Katherine naturally accepted them as her full brother and sister, even if she did only see them on weekends when Roland made a point of bringing the entire family together.
For Janet, her days of nursing other people’s children were over. She was now a full-time mother to her own. At the same time she became even closer to Katherine, often taking care of her when Roland was away. It would only be a matter of time, Roland realized, before Elsie Partridge would retire; it was just as well that Janet and Katherine had become so close.
Even without the binding ties of marriage they could still be one family, Roland realized. He was learning to be satisfied with that.
Chapter Two
A taxi took Roland from Regent’s Park to Simon Aronson’s home in South Kensington. Because of pressure at the bank Simon had been unable to attend that day’s weekly meeting and Roland wanted to bring him up to date. Knowing that Graham and Sharon would be there for the traditional Friday-night dinner, Roland had waited until ten o’clock before arriving, hoping they would have left already. He was disappointed. When the taxi drew up outside Simon’s house, Graham’s new red Maserati was parked in the drive.
Walking up to the front door, Roland recalled nostalgically how simple the business had been when he and Simon had started twelve years ago. Then, there had been only one factory to worry about, uncomplicated figures to go through. Now there were two factories, fifty-three shops dotted around the country . . . and a restaurant! There were reports to be read from each of the small chains they had acquired; reports from regional managers; snags to be ironed out. It was a wonder to Roland that Simon ever found time for his work at Aronson Freres.
The maid opened the door and showed Roland through to the dining room where Simon, Nadine, Sharon and Graham were just finishing dinner. Roland kissed the two women, shook Simon’s hand and nodded politely to Graham. That young man had certainly lucked out the day Sharon had walked into the salon where he was working, Roland thought. Aside from the salon Simon had opened for him on Regent Street, Graham now owned another at the top of Park Lane that was as successful as the first.
To Roland’s surprise, as he waited for Simon to leave the table and go over the reports in the drawing room, Graham spoke to him. ‘You’re a businessman, Roland. I’d like your opinion on something if you’ve got a couple of minutes.’
Roland glanced at Simon, saw the banker sitting very tensely. He guessed that whatever Graham wanted to bring up had already been discussed. ‘If it’s anything to do with electrical shops I can probably help you,’ he answered, not wanting to get involved in what he sensed was a family matter.
Graham stood up and dusted crumbs from the trousers of his navy blue suit onto the carpet. ‘I’m famous, right?’
‘Are you?’ Roland couldn’t resist the question, despite the times he’d seen Graham’s picture on the fashion pages of various newspapers; his popularity hadn’t waned at all in the past three years.
‘Look, I own the top hairdressing salons in this country. I’m established. Surely I should take advantage of that by using my name to promote a line of my own beauty products?’
‘I’m afraid that I don’t know very much about that field.’
‘Roland!’ Sharon said, admonishing him. ‘Look what you’ve done all by yourself, what you’ve created—’
‘With your father, Sharon.’
‘All right, but you’re able to recognize opportunities. That’s your strength. Just think what an opportunity this would be for Graham.’
Roland hated to disappoint the look of expectancy in Sharon’s eyes, but he could raise no enthusiasm for either Graham or his business idea. Also, he wanted to get to Janet’s house soon; he didn’t have time to get embroiled in this. ‘It’s out of my bailiwick, Sharon. Sorry.’ He moved his gaze to Simon, who sat at the head of the table. ‘Have you got time for me now?’
Simon stood up and followed Roland into the drawing room. ‘What was all that about?’ Roland asked.
‘Graham’s thinking about diversifying, capitalizing on his success.’
‘Nothing wrong with that.’ Was that what had made Simon so tense? Why? And why had Graham tried to drag Roland into it? ‘I was thinking about the same thing for us, but I won’t bore you with it right now. These are more important.’ He pulled out the weekly reports from the briefcase he’d brought.
They sat together for forty-five minutes, going over the decisions that had been made at the meeting. As they finished, Sharon and Graham came in to say good night. Sharon kissed Roland and her father, Graham offered
Roland his hand. ‘Thank you for your advice earlier,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Pity, because I’d heard a rumor that you were quite smart.’
‘I’m not too good on anything that has to do with combing hair for money. Drive carefully.’ He turned to Simon. ‘I’d better be off as well, otherwise a certain young lady’s going to wonder what’s happened to me.’
‘Can we give you a lift?’ Sharon asked.
‘No thanks.’ Roland could swear he saw a look of relief in Graham’s dark eyes. ‘I’ll catch a cab. See you next Friday at Wembley, Simon.’ He left the house and started walking toward the main road to get a cab. Graham’s Maserati roared past and Sharon waved. As Roland waved back, he wondered what in God’s name she could have ever seen in Graham.
*
Simon was present at the following Friday’s meeting. Roland went through the normal business quickly, then leaned back in his chair before addressing the group. ‘The question we should all be asking ourselves is: Where do we go from here?’
Lawrence Chivers, who had in time been promoted from sales manager of the original manufacturing plant to operations manager for the complete retail side, stared thoughtfully at his pipe. ‘Into another field?’
‘Exactly. What else can we do but diversify? I think we’ve just about gone the limit as far as electrical shops are concerned. With the exception of the factories and Eldridge’s, we’re retailers. That’s our main thrust, where our expertise lies, so let’s look at other areas of retailing. Simon?’ Roland regarded his partner curiously. Simon had appeared distracted throughout the meeting, offering little comment on any of the reports. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘Something on my mind, that’s all.’
‘Will it cost us money?’ Roland glanced at his watch, concerned about the time. He wanted to be away soon. The long August Bank Holiday weekend was starting that evening and he had arranged to take Janet and the three children to Christopher Mellish’s farm and stables in Somerset. Katherine, especially, was looking forward to seeing the racehorses Mellish owned, even if she would have to be content with riding something less exotic during the weekend. Roland, too, was looking forward to the trip. Business had been so brisk that he’d been unable to take a proper vacation that summer – he’d sent Janet and the children away once already, and he had the nagging suspicion that Janet was critical of him for it. Never mind – he’d make it up to all of them this weekend.
