by Robert Thier
‘Yes,’ I said, curtly. ‘I would mind.’
Ha! You see? I can be rude and cold, too; it’s not just you who has that extraordinary ability!
‘Nevertheless,’ he persisted, his dark eyes flashing, ‘I would like it if you came into my office for a moment.’
‘My work hours are over.’
‘Consider it overtime to make up for your tardiness today. Come in. Now!’
From the tone of his voice I knew he would brook no further argument. Sighing, I followed him into his office, where he settled down into his chair and regarded me over top of his steepled fingers.
‘The man who wants to marry you…’ he stated. ‘You don't like him.’
‘Oh boy, I wonder how you figured that out,’ I sighed, rolling my eyes. ‘Sir,’ I tacked on at the end quickly, as his eyes flashed again.
‘You don't want to marry him.’
‘No, I don't, Sir. And?’
‘And nothing.’ He looked down at his papers and waved a hand. ‘You’re dismissed. I hope tomorrow you’ll show a better performance than today. Good day, Mr Linton.’
Bewildered, I left the office. What had that all been about? As hard as I tried, I couldn’t figure out the answer. Neither could I figure out Mr Ambrose himself. Impolite, honourable, ruthless, moral, stingy, randomly considerate - filled with all these contradicting attributes, he was the strangest man I had ever met. Hardly anything like society’s idea of a perfect gentleman, who was supposed to be moderate in all things. And yet, I realized, as I entered the garden through the back door and sneaked into the shed, although he might be the strangest man I had ever met, he was by far not the worst one.
Working for him was certainly not going to be boring. My thoughts strayed to Simmons, locked up in the cellar. Oh no, not boring at all.
Armed with my little clutch purse and parasol, which these days felt more like a disguise than Uncle Bufford’s top hat, I approached the house. To my surprise, my aunt was waiting in the hall, her bony cheeks flushed with excitement.
‘Guess who’s just arrived,’ she whispered so audibly that you could probably hear it three streets away.
Oh no. Not another visit from Lieutenant Ellingham. Please, God! Please let me have at least until tomorrow to recover!
‘Sir Philip!’ She exclaimed, ecstatic with joy, and I had to congratulate God on his ingenuity in giving me what I wanted and still managing to fill the rest of my day with privations to try the soul. ‘He and Ella are in the drawing room[31] right now! I’ve already sent all the others up to their rooms, of course! The two lovebirds must under no circumstances be disturbed.’
‘Certainly,’ I said mechanically. ‘That would be disastrous. After all, it might delay his marriage proposal for another two days or so.’
‘Exactly! That’s exactly my point! So you wouldn’t mind going up to your room now, too, and leaving them undisturbed? For your little sister’s sake?’
‘I’d do anything for my sister,’ I replied, completely truthfully.
‘Good! I have to go now to prepare some snacks in case he stays longer. Be off with you!’
And she hurried into the kitchen.
I sighed. Well, at least I hadn’t been obliged to lie to my aunt again. I would do anything for Ella. Including what I was about to do.
Twirling my parasol like a master swordsman swinging his weapon before a battle, I marched up to the drawing room door and thrust it open.
En Garde,[32] Sir Philip!
Ambrosian Waste Disposal Squad
‘Ah, Sir Philip!’
Both of them looked around as they heard the voice of the unexpected intruder - sweet little me. When Ella realized who it was, I saw startled relief on her face. When Wilkins realized who it was, I saw startled startledness on his face. I marched over to the thin young man with the big ears and more or less shoved my hand into his face, so he was obliged to press a kiss on it.
‘Oh, err… Miss Linton?’
I nodded graciously, and then let him have it.
‘Sir Philip, I’m so delighted to meet you again! I can’t say how happy I am to be able to thank you in person for that wonderful ball you gave the other night! The ballroom looked so beautiful, all those exotic potted plants, and the little table with the exquisite snacks! There was even solid chocolate! Did I tell you that I only had solid chocolate once before? It is one of my favourite things! As I was saying, it was simply wonderful - and I mean the ball, not the chocolate, although that was pretty nice too. Such wonderful decorations, and delightful music, and such incredibly mindless baboons for guests, and the chandeliers glittered so pretty, I thought I might faint!’
Sir Philip stared at me nonplussed. He was probably still trying to figure out how to fit the 'mindless baboons' into the long line of compliments. I wasn’t going to give him enough time for that, though.
‘And the music - It was simply so enchanting! But I already said that, didn’t I? Dear me, my memory sometimes isn’t the best one. You know, Sir Philip, I was particularly impressed with the architecture of your beautiful house. I have always had a passion for architecture,’ I lied smoothly. ‘Can you tell me who was responsible for such a monument to the modern science of building?’
‘I believe a man called Bartley did the main design, Miss…’
‘How wonderful! How interesting. How old is he? Has he designed any other buildings? Where does he live? Does he have any children? Did he design his own home? How long did it take him to build yours? It is so large and majestic, it must have taken him at least five years. I was so impressed by it.’
‘I… can see that.’
Looking at me strangely, Sir Philip edged away from the window where he had been standing, towards the only empty seat beside Ella on the sofa. Maybe he was thinking about protecting her from her seemingly deranged sister. Maybe he was thinking she could protect him. But I wasn’t having any of that! Quickly, I slid into the seat beside Ella before he could, and smiled up at him.
‘You must tell me all about him. Please, I have a ravenous desire for knowledge. Please oblige me.’
A peer of the British Empire couldn’t just ignore a plea from a lady, could he?
*~*~**~*~*
Approximately three hours later, I, Ella and Sir Philip left the drawing room, the latter with a slightly dazed look on his face. My aunt was just coming down from my uncle’s room, looking disgruntled. In all probability, she had just been refused money to buy sweetmeats for Sir Philip, after having discovered that we had no ingredients for proper snacks in the house.
Her face lit up instantly when she saw caught sight of the three of us standing in the hallway.
‘Oh, my dear Sir Philip,’ she trilled. ‘Are you leaving already? I’m so sorry for that. I was just getting something ready…’
‘Do not make the effort, Madam, I beg of you,’ he cut her off - and he actually sounded as if he were begging. ‘As you have noted, I am just about to leave. It has been a charming evening. Thank you so much for your hospitality. And thank you, Miss Ella, for your time.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ mumbled Ella.
‘And, um… thank you, Miss Lillian, for that… um… very interesting talk.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ I said with a smile. So what if it was slightly sadistic?
While Wilkins hurried away to snatch his hat and overcoat off the hanger, my aunt sidled up to me. ‘And? Were you near enough to the door to hear something?’ she asked in a low voice, not aware that I had been in the room the entire time. ‘What was the topic of conversation?’
‘Height, beauty and proportions, mainly, I think,’ I said.
My aunt’s eyes flicked to Ella, going up and down her figure proudly. ‘Oh! That is good, very good indeed! And what feature did he find particularly appealing? Her eyes? Her form?’
‘I think the chandeliers and windows were what he found most beautiful.’
‘Chandeliers? Lilly, what are you talking…?’
Qui
ckly, she cut off as Sir Philip returned to us and performed another bow.
‘I take my leave of you, Madam. But I hope soon to return for a tête-à-tête with your beautiful niece.’
That remark wiped all annoyance from my aunt’s face and plastered it on mine instead. Darn it! I would have thought my three-hour intensive treatment might be enough to put him off. Apparently not. It wouldn’t be enough for Ella to have annoying relatives to chase him away. He would have to discover that she herself was deficient in some major way…
Doubtfully, I glanced at Ella’s beautiful face and demure demeanour. That was going to take some work.
When the door had closed behind him, my aunt clapped her hands, my comment about chandeliers long forgotten.
‘Girls!’ She exclaimed. ‘We have him! Ella, this man will be your husband as sure as grass is green and the sky is blue!’
Ella paled and grasped the wall to support herself. My aunt noticed neither.
‘When it rains, the sky is grey,’ I pointed out. ‘And when it’s hot in the summer, grass can grow brown.’
‘Oh, don't be a stick-in-the-mud, Lilly! The two of them will get their happy end, I’m sure of it! Just as will you and Lieutenant Ellingham. Did I tell you that he’s going to come around for a visit, too?’
‘What?’ I turned to face her, horror written all over my face.
Of course, my aunt didn’t take the trouble to read it. Or maybe she was an emotional illiterate.
‘Yes, yes. Isn’t it exciting?’ She threw her arms up into the air. ‘My two favourite nieces, married in one go!’
I started to object to this, wanting to point out that firstly, I wasn’t married yet, not even engaged, and secondly, I had never been her favourite niece, but she rushed off before I could say anything, probably to make some preparations for the arrival of Lieutenant Ellingham.
I didn’t know what she did.
I didn’t really care.
But I soon found out that she needn't have bothered.
The lieutenant didn’t arrive. We waited for an hour. Still he didn’t arrive. We waited for another hour. Still there was no sign of him. At Aunt Brank’s supreme command, I sat at the drawing room window, forced to look out for him. Only once did I actually see a flicker of movement out on the dark street - but when I looked, it wasn’t the lieutenant, but a rather large gentleman in a turban, stooping over something on the ground. Funny… from this distance he looked almost a bit like Karim.
The lieutenant, however, never came. I would have been ready to leave for a long time, but my aunt insisted Ella and I stay in the drawing room to greet our guest. After three hours, even she finally gave up hope and marched out of the room, muttering things under her breath that were definitely not ladylike.
Ella looked after her uncertainly, then peeked back at me.
‘What do you think could have prevented him from coming?’ She whispered as if he was in the room with us and could hear her if she spoke too loud.
‘I don't know,’ I said, the beginnings of a disbelieving grin on my face. ‘God’s mercy? A miracle? A nice, bloody train accident?’
‘Lilly! You shouldn’t say such things!’
I grinned at her.
‘Why? What’s wrong with God’s mercy?’
‘You know what I mean. Stop teasing me.’
‘Why, when it’s such tremendous fun?’ I sprang up from my seat and did a little twirl around the room, more graceful than I had ever done in a ballroom. ‘Can it be that I am free? What joy is this, what wondrous joy?’
Ella let out a little laugh.
‘Dear me, Lill, I had no idea you were so poetic.’
‘I’m not. Not when I’m sane, at least. But tonight I feel a mad happiness coming over me! Is this just a dream, or is he really not here?’
‘It’s one hundred per cent real.’
‘Really? You promise?’
‘I do, Lill, I do.’
Quickly, I went to her and knelt in front of her, grasping her delicate hands. ‘Do you think he’s gone for good? Do you think it’s possible I might be free of him?’
She shrugged, still laughing. ‘How should I know?’
‘Or maybe he’s just been detained somewhere this once,’ I fretted. ‘Maybe he’ll show up here tomorrow morning, just as obnoxious as ever!’
‘Maybe,’ Ella admitted.
‘You’re not helping! You’re supposed to soothe and encourage me! You’re my sister, after all!’
‘Or maybe not,’ she hurriedly added. ‘He’s in the army, after all. Maybe he’s been stationed in some colony. Gibraltar, maybe.’
‘Gibraltar? Why so near? Why not the Caribbean? Or better yet, India! Somewhere in the jungle where he can get eaten by tigers!’
We started to giggle like little girls. We couldn’t help it.
‘I don't know what has happened,’ Ella said finally, when we had control of ourselves again. ‘But although I definitely wish him no harm, I wish he’s out of your life forever.’ She encircled me in her slender arms and hugged me. ‘Then you can maybe find true love and happiness.’
‘Love? Me?’
‘Of course! With that young man of yours you told me of.’
‘Oh… yes! Of course, with him! I had nearly forgotten how much I am in love, sorry.’
That night, I went to bed exhausted with happiness, still wondering what could possibly have happened to Lieutenant Ellingham. To some extent, I was also afraid. Was it unreasonable to hope he was gone for good? Would he return and try to catch me in the eternal trap of matrimony? And finally, the most intriguing question: Why had he vanished at all? Was it an accident? A miracle? Or had someone done this? What, or who, could have that much power?
After a while I stopped my useless wondering and, as my mind drifted closer to sleep, the worries over Lieutenant Ellingham fell away, and unconscious thoughts drifted to the forefront of my mind. Thoughts of another man who had been there all along, hidden beneath the surface.
You are lovely.
He had said that, hadn’t he? It hadn’t just been my imagination?
My eyes fell closed, and I began to dream of showers. I had no idea bathroom appliances could be that interesting.
*~*~**~*~*
Neither the next morning nor the next few days after that did Lieutenant Ellingham put in an appearance. He did not write, he did not send a message through a friend, he did nothing. It was as though he had vanished from the face of the earth.
Lucky earth! In my opinion, her face was a lot prettier now.
I was still worrying about what exactly had happened to him, and especially if it was something from which he would return alive and in one piece. But with time, my worry eased. You can’t worry too much about problems that apparently have disappeared by themselves when you have ones to deal with that are still very much present. And I had one of those every single day of the week from eight o’clock onwards.
If I had thought Mr Ambrose had been demanding and short with me before, he was reaching new heights now. He was pressuring me so hard, I was almost surprised I wasn’t squashed and turned into Lilly-puree. From having me bring him single files, he went to have me bring him entire boxes, and let me tell you, those are heavy!
Did he have any helpful suggestions? Oh yes.
Mr Linton, start working on your musculature so you can carry several boxes at once. That would be far less time-consuming.
Mr Linton, walk faster.
Mr Linton, learn to open doors more quickly.
Mr Linton, I’m not paying you for tardiness! Get a move on!
I was absolutely sure now that me hearing him call me ‘lovely’ had been my imagination. Maybe he had said ‘puffy’. That seemed a far more likely explanation.
As time went by, I noticed that all the files I carried into his office dated from the same year as the one that had been hidden in his safe. Slowly I realized: He was reading up on something. Preparing. Had Simmons spilled the beans yet, or the pot
atoes or artichokes, whatever secret vegetables he was hiding from Mr Ambrose?
Finally, I resolved to ask him about it. In person. This was actually possible now. The file boxes being too thick to be shoved under a closed door, the connecting door between his and my office was open all the time now.
I knocked.
‘Yes. What do you want?’
The customary friendly greeting. Oh, what a joy it was to have a kind and warm-hearted employer.
I entered.
‘Mr Ambrose, I was just wondering…’
He listened to my question and took his watch out as he did so. When I was finished, he stated:
‘You have just wasted thirty-one seconds of my valuable time with unnecessary speech, Mr Linton. Simmons has divulged nothing yet. Now bring me the file box I asked for.’
‘But what’s the sense in keeping to question Simmons?’ I persisted. ‘It’s been days since the theft. Whoever has it must long have made use of the information it contained.’
Which you still haven’t deigned to share with me…
Mr Ambrose’s dark eyes flashed menacingly.
‘Do you think I am a half-wit, Mr Linton? I’m sure they would have made use of it, if they could. However, the information is heavily encrypted. We have some time left yet.’
‘Encrypted? You mean… you invented your own secret language?’
‘It is normally referred to as a “code” by specialists of cryptology, but yes, a secret language, if you wish to put it that way.’
I looked down on the files at the desk. ‘Do you do this for all your papers?’ I asked, knowing the answer.
‘No. The file was a… special case. Now get me the file box I want!’
‘Mr Ambrose?’
It shouldn’t be possible for a man to narrow his eyes while not moving one muscle in his face, but somehow Mr Ambrose managed it. ‘I notice you’re still here, Mr Linton.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘I told you to go.’
‘I know, Sir. I stayed anyway.’ Swallowing, I tried to gather my courage. ‘What is in the stolen file? What have they taken from you?’
His eyes flashed again. They looked more like the sea than ever. But if before they had been stormy, now there was a thunderstorm in progress. ‘I already told you that you will never know. I do not appreciate my time being wasted with unnecessary questions.’
