That Man Simon (17 page)

Jenny went into the garden again. But, when she came back, by way of the hall, the study door was still closed.

‘I expect they would like some coffee,’ Mrs. Shannon suggested on her way out.

Jenny made coffee, and opened a new packet of her grandfather’s favourite whole meal biscuits. She could hear Simon’s voice as she tapped on the study door. Then her grandfather called, ‘Come in.’

‘Elevenses, Grandpa. Good morning,’ - to Simon. She gave him a nervous smile as he rose from his chair at her entrance.

‘Not for me, I’m afraid. I’m late for an appointment already. But you’ll have something, won’t you, Gilchrist?’

The Rector collected together some papers, patted his pockets to make sure he had his pipe on him, and checked the time by his old-fashioned pocket watch. ‘Dear me, nearly half past eleven. I must be off.’

‘How is Polly this morning?’ Jenny asked, when he had left them.

‘She slept till after nine. Then she had breakfast in bed, and we had a long talk,’ Simon said. He took out his cigarette case. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

‘Of course not.’ Jenny sat in her grandfather’s swivel chair and poured out the coffee.

‘It seems the start of the trouble was when she overheard a conversation between us some time ago,’ Simon went on. ‘You may remember I said she might not be living with me permanently.’

‘Yes.’ The memory of that afternoon was so vivid that Jenny’s cheek grew hot.

But Simon was not looking at her. He was frowning at the tip of his cigarette.

‘Then recently Mrs. Rose’s sister came over to see her, and Polly overheard something else,’ he continued, in an expressionless voice. ‘Mrs. Rose appears to have been under the impression that I was thinking of marrying Fenella Waring, and there would be no place for Polly in our menage.’

‘I see,’ Jenny said faintly.

‘Do you?’ His dark eyes met hers, and held them. ‘Did you think the same thing, Jenny?’

‘I - I knew you were ... are interested in Fenella. I never thought you would send Polly away.’

There was a pause before he said evenly, ‘My interest in Fenella goes about as deep as your interest in those types you were flirting with at her party.’

At his mention of the party, a fiery flush deepened Jenny’s already heightened colour. She fixed her gaze on the Rector’s silver inkwell. ‘Well, there’s no problem, then,’

she said unsteadily.

‘I hope not. It all depends.’ He crushed out his half--

smoked cigarette. ‘Do you know why I came to see your grandfather this morning?’

‘No ... I’ve no idea.’

‘It’s rather an old-fashioned approach, I suppose.’ Simon sounded as if he were smiling. ‘I came to ask his permission to propose to you.’

She looked at him then, scarcely daring to believe he had said what she thought he had said.

Simon leaned across the desk and took her hands. ‘Your grandfather said “yes”. What do you say, Jenny? Will you marry me?’

For some moments she could not say anything. ‘Oh, Simon, you’re not joking, are you? I – I mean it doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand.’

‘It’s quite simple, my darling,’ he said gently. ‘I love you. I thought you loved me.’

My darling. The endearment sent a tremor of delight through her. I love you, he had said. I love you.

‘I do. I love you terribly. But why didn’t you tell me before? Why were you suddenly so beastly to me? You made me feel such a fool. Why didn’t you tell me?’ she stammered.

He let go of her hands, and stood up. By the window, half turned from her, he said slowly, ‘I wanted to tell you weeks ago - almost from the first. Do you remember that day we had tea together in the city? I almost told you then. But I knew it was madness.’

‘Madness?’ she echoed, still bewildered, still afraid it could not be true.

He swung to face her. ‘Jenny, I’m twelve years older than you are, and I have a child on my hands. It’s not the sort of marriage your grandparents must have hoped for.

‘But I love you, and I love Polly, and now ...’ her voice dropped a tone ‘... now you say you love me.’

‘Very much.’ There was a tenderness in his voice she had never heard before, not even when he spoke to Polly.

‘But you should be marrying a boy, someone your own age. Someone like young Langdon. I daresay you would have married him, if I hadn’t come along.’

‘I didn’t love James,’ she said simply. ‘I didn't know what love was like then.’

Simon crooked a forefinger. ‘Come here a minute.’

Shyly, heart thudding, she went to him.

He took her face between his cool strong hands. ‘What is it like? Tell me, Jenny.’

‘Wanting to be with you ... always ... anywhere. Oh, Simon, there are no words. I—’

Very gently, he kissed her.

‘Are you certain, Jenny?’ His lips were against her temple.

His voice was husky. Beneath her hand, his heart was thudding too. ‘Are you very sure, my love?’

For answer, she slid her arms round his neck and clung to him.

Three weeks later, Jenny and Polly spent a morning in the town together. After Jenny had taken the child to the dentist, they went to the bridal department of one of the big stores, and a saleswoman brought the cloud of pearly organza which was Jenny’s wedding dress.

The tight waist and long close-fitting sleeves had had to be taken in a little. But now the dress fitted her perfectly.

‘Do you like it, Polly?’ she asked, as behind her the assistant fastened the hooks and eyes.

‘Oh, yes ... you look like a fairy!’ Polly breathed, enchanted.

After the dress had been carefully packed into a large box, they went along to the millinery department where their headdresses were also ready. Jenny’s was a little white satin pillbox embroidered with seed pearls which would perch on the crown of her head, secured by invisible combs, with a mist of white silk tulle floating down behind. For Polly, whose bridesmaid dress was made of pale-blue dotted Swiss voile, she had ordered a chaplet of blue and white flowers with green velvet streamers at the back.

They were eating ice-creams upstairs in the restaurant when Fenella Waring came in. She saw them and sauntered to their table.

‘Hello ... may I join you?’ she asked.

‘Yes, do.’ Jenny smiled at her. She felt kindly disposed towards everyone nowadays.

Fenella stripped off her gloves. ‘How does it feel to be the number one topic in the village?’ she asked, as she beckoned a waitress.

‘I didn’t know I was.’

‘Oh, yes, my dear, everyone is gossiping madly. It’s the biggest sensation in years. First there was the surprise announcement of your engagement, and then this whirlwind wedding.’ She smiled with subtle malice. ‘You’re certainly striking the iron while it’s hot.’

Jenny took the implication, but her face remained friendly and untroubled. Neither Fenella, nor anyone else, had the power to upset her now.

‘Why should we wait?’ she answered calmly.

The older girl shrugged. ‘Oh, quite. I’m following your example in October. I’m going to marry John.’ She stretched her left hand across the table, displaying a glittering solitaire diamond.

‘It’s beautiful. I hope you’ll be very happy.’

Jenny saw Fenella’s glance flicker from the diamond to her own much less opulent ring, a Victorian amethyst surrounded by seed pearls. But again she felt no hurt or irritation; only a kind of pity for anyone with Fenella’s mentality.

‘If you’ll excuse us, we’d better get on,’ she said pleasantly. ‘Pay the bill while I load up with parcels, will you, Polly.’

While she was gathering their shopping together, Fenella said carelessly, ‘Have you seen the new district nurse yet?’

Jenny shook her head, her mind already on the re-mainder of their purchases.

‘She’s quite young, and not bad-looking in a rather insipid way. I met her when she was hob-nobbing with James the other morning. He introduced us. I got the impression she was decidedly taken with him,’ Fenella added airily.

‘Why not? He’s a very nice person.’

‘Perhaps she’ll catch him on the rebound from you.

Though I must say he doesn’t look too broken up.’

Jenny ignored that. ‘Good-bye, Fenella,’ she said evenly, and walked away to join Polly.

But in mentioning James, the other girl had finally succeeded in touching a raw spot. The one shadow on Jenny’s happiness was the thought of James, and she hoped with all her heart that it would not be long before he met a girl who would love him as he deserved to be loved. As she loved Simon.

It was only six o’clock when she awoke on the morning of her wedding day. Much too excited to stay in bed, she washed, pulled on a shirt and jeans, and crept stealthily downstairs. Eating a buttered crust, she let herself out into the garden.

There was a heavy dew on the grass, and the air was cool and fresh. It was going to be a glorious day. According to the long-range forecast, the fine weather should hold for the whole of their three-week honeymoon. But it did not matter greatly if the forecast proved wrong. They were going to Herm and, from her recollection of the day trips she had made to the island with her grandparents, Jenny felt sure that it would not lose its appeal merely because the sky was grey. Anyway, in Simon’s company everywhere was In her mind’s eye, she could see them paddling along the water’s edge on Shell Beach, or swimming in the crystal-green sea at Belvoir Bay, or having delicious slices of Guernsey gache for their elevenses in the grassy courtyard outside the Mermaid Tavern. These were all things she had done before, but this time the pleasure would be greater for being shared with Simon. And this time there would be new pleasures because, instead of going away to Guernsey on the last launch, they would be able to stroll unhurriedly back to Herm’s one hotel, and dine with a twilight view across the channel called Little Russel to the winking lights of St. Peter Port, three miles away.

After dinner, when the island was as quiet and serene as if the daytime throng had never been there, they would walk as far as Rosiere Steps, the low-water landing place, or up the hill to the old granite Manor House.

As she wiped her buttery fingers on the seat of her jeans, she heard a low whistle from beyond the boundary fence. Turning, she saw Simon.

‘Couldn’t you sleep either?’ he asked, when she reached the wire, its meshes hung with shimmering dew-dropped cobwebs.

Jenny shook her head, smiling. ‘I went to bed too early.’

‘Come over by the tree.’

She hesitated. ‘It’s supposed to be unlucky for you to see me before the wedding.’

‘Let’s risk it. I want to tell you something.’

She climbed the tree and dropped into his arms, as she had done once before. This time, he held her fast and kissed her.

‘No last-minute doubts?’ he asked presently.

‘Not for me. Have you?’

He rubbed her hand against his chin. He had shaved but, like her, he was wearing gardening clothes, a blue cotton shirt and old slacks.

‘No doubts at all,’ he said softly.

‘What did you want to tell me?’

‘That I love you very much ... that I’ll do my best to make you happy, my darling.’

‘I wonder if everyone feels like this?’ Jenny said dreamily.

Then, reluctantly, she drew away from him. ‘I must go and make Granny’s early tea. There are a hundred things to do. I don’t want to arrive at the church looking flushed and flustered. I’m hoping you’ll hardly recognize me in all my finery.’

‘You look very nice to me the way you are.’

‘Ah, you wait!’ She stood on tiptoe to brush a quick soft kiss against his cheek. Then, evading his attempt to recapture her, she laughed and ran off towards his back gate — very soon to be her back gate too.

‘Until ten o’clock. Don’t be late,’ Simon called after her.

Jenny turned and waved. ‘Until ten o’clock.’ Hurrying along the lane on her way back to the Rectory, she thought ‘Three hours ... and then we shall be together always. Mr. and Mrs. Gilchrist.’

And she could hardly wait to begin their new life.