The Bright One (44 page)

‘Irish to the core.'

‘I suppose we'll have to see her,' Miriam spoke with the utmost reluctance. ‘I'll write to Graham.'

‘Don't get the wrong idea about this,' Henry warned. ‘It isn't a question of you getting her down from the North of England, inspecting her to see if you approve. If she's not welcomed as Graham's future wife, then he won't stay either.'

‘But Henry, what
will
they do? For a start, what will they live on? His future is good, but he has nothing now, and we must make that plain to her.'

‘Unless the girl is accepted by us, he won't go into Prince and Harper,' Henry said. ‘That's for sure! And whatever he decides to do, she'll support him.' And they'll be happy together, he thought suddenly. They'll be truly happy. Nothing I can do, or his mother can do, will prevent that. He felt a swift pang of envy.

‘So we must welcome her,' he said to his wife. ‘We have nothing to lose if we do and a great deal to lose if we don't.'

‘You can't say we've nothing to lose,' Miriam protested. ‘I had such plans for Graham. There's Fiona Palmer, a lovely girl, and all her family such good friends . . . '

‘It doesn't do to make plans for one's family,' Henry said. ‘I've discovered that. Anyway, look on the bright side. You might actually like the girl!'

‘And did you?'

‘I think I did,' Henry said thoughtfully. ‘Yes. In the end I did.'

‘You always fell for a pretty face,' Miriam said tartly. All the same, she must meet this girl, and the sooner the better. It was surely not too late, once Graham saw her in his own environment, for him to change his mind?

While Henry Prince was in the train, speeding south, Graham and Breda were walking arm in arm in Sutherland Park.

‘He doesn't like me,' Breda said. ‘He doesn't approve of me.'

‘I don't think that's true,' Graham assured her. ‘I think he likes you at least as much as he'd like anyone else in the same circumstances. It's just that it's come as a big surprise to him. My father likes everything to go according to plan.'

‘
His
plan,' Breda said.

‘That's true. He's used to getting his own way. But it makes no difference. He knows we're engaged, he knows we intend to marry when we can. He can't change that, and he knows it.'

The bell sounded across the park, signifying that the gates were about to be closed before darkness fell.

‘Sure, I don't want to go home yet,' Breda said. ‘There's a lot we have to talk about – and besides, won't Auntie Josie be bursting to ask me a thousand questions?'

‘I don't want you to go. So we can walk around the streets, or we can go to the coffee bar, or have a drink in a pub. Oh Breda,' Graham said impatiently, ‘I long for the day we'll have our own home to go to!'

‘And do you think I don't? Nor do I care what it's like. One room of our own, just anywhere, would be heaven. But in the meantime we'll go to a bar and I'll have a Guinness to remind me of home.'

The public house was crowded, but they found a small table in a corner. Graham watched Breda while she lifted the glass and sipped the dark liquid, the pale gold froth clinging to her upper lip.

‘Did you drink Guinness in Ireland?' he asked.

‘Indeed I never did, though everyone else drank it. But tonight I felt like it.'

‘Does that mean you're homesick, my love? I don't want you to be homesick.'

‘'Tis only because I'm suddenly not sure of anything,' Breda said. ‘But then, I was no longer sure of anything in Kilbally. Wasn't that why I left?'

He took the glass from her hand and put it on the table, then grabbed her by the wrists and held her tightly. ‘Breda, you must never say that, do you hear? Never! We love each other. We're together. We're sure of each other, and beside that nothing else matters.'

‘Will nothing and no-one separate us?'

‘Nothing!' Graham said firmly. ‘And no-one. You must believe that.'

‘Then I do,' Breda said.

‘And if you're really homesick, why don't we go to Kilbally for a few days? We both have some holiday to come. Besides, I want to meet your family, I want to see where you grew up. I want to know everything about you from the day you were born!'

‘Sure, there's little to know,' Breda said. ‘But I would like you to come to Kilbally with me.'

And she would like to do it, she thought, before she had to meet Graham's family. She wanted him to know where she had sprung from before he took her into the affluence of his own upbringing. She was not ashamed of her beginnings, not in the least, but it was essential to her that he knew them, and could accept them.

‘And after that,' Graham said, ‘you must meet my family, especially my mother.'

She vowed to herself that she would not tell him, now or at any time, how much she dreaded the thought of that.

‘And afterwards?' she asked. ‘What will happen afterwards? What will you do about a job? Where will you be? What will
I
do?'

‘I don't know,' Graham said. ‘But I'm not worried. We'll work it out together.'

He
was
worried, but he would never admit it. If his mother would not accept Breda, then he would not work in Prince and Harper – but in that case where
would
he find work? On the other hand it was possible that his mother would take to Breda. His darling was surely an easy person to love.

At about the time Henry Prince was at the breakfast table with his wife in Reigate, Opal was already behind her desk. From the very first day she had opened the store she had taken pleasure in being at her job early. She loved the peace of it, before the telephones began to ring, before the day's demands started. Equally, she would have admitted, she loved the moments when the staff began to arrive, when the covers came off the counters and everything was ready for the first trickle – or heavy rush if it was a sale day – of customers coming through the doors. Almost always she walked around the store at this time, inspecting, noting, asking questions, greeting the many customers who over the years had almost become friends.

This morning, however, she stayed in her office. This morning she expected George Soames early, and they had important business to discuss. And while she waited she pored over the sheaf of papers she had been given yesterday afternoon in Hebghyll. She had read them several times and she had made a list of questions to be asked, points to be discussed, when her brother-in-law arrived.

She didn't have to wait long. He was as efficient as herself, and utterly reliable, which was why, before the war, when she had returned to the store from almost a year's absence after her terrible accident and found almost everything except the restaurant, over which George Soames presided, going to rack and ruin, she had immediately pulled him out from that job and made him her General Manager. Without him she could never have rebuilt Opal's store into the highly successful business it now was.

There was a tap on the door and he entered. ‘Good morning, Miss Opal!'

Though he had married her sister in 1938 and had therefore been an intimate member of the family circle for many years, in the store he still addressed her as Miss Opal.

‘I caught the early train from Hebghyll,' he said. ‘Good thing I did because there's trouble on the line and everything's running late.' He nodded towards the sheaf of papers. ‘So what do you think, now that you've slept on it?'

‘I haven't slept much,' Opal admitted. ‘I was too excited! But I still think it's a good idea. I reckon we could make a go of it. Edgar thinks so too, though he was worried about me taking on more responsibility. I told him most of the responsibility would be yours. That satisfied him.'

‘Good! And Mary's happy. She likes the thought of me working only ten minutes away from home instead of coming into Leasfield every day.'

It was not only the thought of her husband working closer to home which pleased Mary. Opal knew that. George had had a heart attack last year – a mild one, and he had recovered well, but Mary remained anxious, watching over him, though trying not to show it. He was the light of her life. She had met him when she had given up hope of marriage. They had no children. He was her only love.

The war years had been difficult in the store. There were shortages of everything; staff, because most of them were young, were constantly being called up into the armed forces, women as well as men, and there were coupons and rationing, and new regulations all the time. George Soames, above the age of conscription, had shouldered a great deal of the responsibility, and it had taken its toll.

‘It was smart of you to spot the business,' Opal said.

She had been hankering, for almost a year now, to spread her wings, perhaps open up a branch in one of the towns within a reasonable distance of Leasfield. Harrogate, Ilkley, perhaps Skipton, had been in her mind – the store drew customers from all those areas – but it was George who had spotted the opportunity in Hebghyll.

‘It helped, living on the spot,' George said. ‘I'd been noticing for some months now that Fawcett's was running down. Well, you couldn't help but notice it. I think the war was too much for John Fawcett. He hadn't the reserves of Opal's.'

It had been with this in mind that Opal had approached the owner of Fawcett's store. It was easier to take over a going concern, however run-down, than to start from scratch, as she had done all those years ago in Leasfield. It was to this end that she had left Henry Prince to his own devices yesterday afternoon, and gone to Hebghyll with George.

‘I must say, I was appalled by the condition of everything,' she said to George Soames now. ‘I found it more run-down than you'd described, and in spirit as well as physically. Which means, of course, we'll get it for a reasonable price.'

She had been acutely reminded, looking over Fawcett's yesterday, of the day she had discovered what was now Opal's store. Fawcett's, however, was very different. It was considerably smaller, much less than a quarter of the size of Opal's, but the right size for Hebghyll. It was also old-fashioned, staid, shabby.

‘There's a great deal we'd want to alter,' she said. ‘And quickly, too. It needs an entirely new image.'

‘If you change the name to Opal's, we're halfway there,' George said.

She pushed the pages of notes she had made across the desk. ‘I've had one or two ideas. You might like to take a look at them. And you'll have your own ideas too. After all, you'll be in charge. You must feel free to follow them once we're going.'

‘We've usually thought much alike,' George said. ‘I don't foresee much difficulty there. Let's go through your list, shall we, and then we'll come to mine?'

It was almost noon before they paused in their discussions. Opal leaned back in her chair and pushed her hair from her face. ‘It's nearly lunch time, and I'm hungry. Will it suit you if we pause for a while and have coffee and a sandwich here?

‘Oh George, I'm going to miss you so much!' Opal said as they ate their sandwiches, ‘Yes, I know we'll be in touch all the time, but it won't be the same. I can never really replace you. Herbert Ransome's very good, and I know you've taught him just about everything he knows, but he won't be the same.'

‘Herbert will be just fine,' George said. ‘And it's time he had promotion, which he never will while I'm here. Which brings me to the question of staff in Hebghyll. I wasn't over-impressed with what I saw there.'

‘Nor I,' Opal agreed. ‘I dare say they've gone downhill with the business.'

‘That being so, I'd like to steal a few people from here,' George suggested. ‘Not permanently, but until we get on a firm footing.'

Opal sighed.

‘And I expect you'll want the
crème de la crème
?'

‘To start with, yes.'

‘I had an idea yesterday about which I haven't had time to talk to you,' Opal said. ‘But it
is
only an idea and you're free to turn it down.'

‘So?'

‘You'll need a deputy, someone to understudy you. What would you think of Graham Prince?'

‘Graham Prince?' George's mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘I wouldn't have given him a thought. Besides, isn't he due to go into Prince and Harper? Why would he want to work with me?'

‘For more reasons than one,' Opal said. ‘But apart from that, how would
you
feel about it?'

‘I'm not sure,' George admitted. ‘Of course I
like
him, and he's done very well here. And there is one advantage in having someone new to the job; he could learn my ways from the beginning. I don't particularly want to take on a member of Fawcett's staff as my deputy. There might be a conflict of ideas there.'

‘You're talking yourself into it,' Opal said. ‘But it's up to you.'

‘So why might he not go into Prince and Harper? His father said nothing of that yesterday.'

‘Poor Henry doesn't know whether he's on his head or his heels,' Opal said. ‘Graham has got himself engaged to be married, to Breda O'Connor!'

‘The little Irish girl in Display?'

‘The same. She's a nice enough girl.
I'd
be glad to have her for a daughter-in-law,' Opal said wistfully. Sometimes she thought Daniel would never marry. ‘But she's not what Henry had in mind, and still less will she appeal to Miriam. Miriam Prince has big ideas. So you see the difficulty. No way will Graham subject Breda permanently to the disapproval of his family.'