Unknown (4 page)

"Wait till you meet her," Jason suggested to Elizabeth's dismay. "She's absolutely charming."

"We're hardly in the market for charm." A tall figure loomed squarely against the opaque oblong of glass, moving towards the communicating door. "I can quite imagine what Miss Drummond looks like from your description and I'm sure she would be a complete liability on this trip. You know that Grand'mere needs a firm hand, otherwise she'll dash off at a tangent and upset everyone's arrangements at the drop of a hat."

"Does it really matter so much?" Jason still sounded half amused. "She's old enough to please herself and I think she's earned her independence. Going off at a tangent now and then isn't such a bad thing."

"So long as it doesn't inconvenience everyone else in her immediate neighbourhood," Charles Abercrombie said.

Elizabeth was quite sure of the other man's identity now. It could be none other than Charles, and she knew, even before they met, that she wasn't going to like him. The way in which he had condemned her out of hand was insufferable.

She was about to turn on her heel and leave when the door in the partition wall was flung open.

Face to face with Charles Abercrombie at last, she could only stare at him incredulously, thinking how like his grandmother he was. There was the same slim height, the same strength of character in the handsome face, and the eyes looking curiously into her angry ones were as deep and penetrating as Adele's.

"Can I help you?" he asked dispassionately, looking beyond her at the empty desks.

"No, not at all!" His forcibly-expressed opinion of her was still ringing in Elizabeth's ears. "I'm the person you think most unsuitable for the position of your grandmother's secretary. You could be right," she rushed on before he could interrupt her, "because I simply refuse to be browbeaten by someone who can prejudge a situation so shamelessly. You had no idea what my real qualifications were, but you condemned me out of hand because I wasn't some middle-aged frump who would suit your purpose no matter what your grandmother thought." She drew a deep breath. "Well, I'm not very old, Mr. Abercrombie, and I haven't travelled very far, but I've been taught to give everyone a fair chance. I liked your grandmother and she liked me, but in the circumstances I wouldn't accept the job if you paid me a fortune to go!"

Charles Abercrombie looked faintly amused.

"That would be most unbusinesslike," he said, in no way affected by her angry onslaught. "I understand my brother has discussed a salary with you. It would seem to me that the whole thing is already settled."

"Without your intervention," Jason said, coming up behind him. "Look here, Charles, I think we both owe Miss Drummond an apology."

"Because she overheard our conversation?" The keen scrutiny did not waver as Charles Abercrombie continued to look at Elizabeth. "That was unfortunate, since we were discussing her application, but I'm not quite sure why we must apologise. I hardly expected Miss Drummond to return so dramatically after office hours."

"If you think I was eavesdropping," Elizabeth flashed, "you're wrong. You were both speaking rather loudly, and I had been asked to come."

"Of course you had," Jason agreed, taking her arm. "You won't go away again, will you, till everything is settled?"

"There can't be anything to settle now." Elizabeth could see her dreams crumbling before the frosty look in Charles Abercrombie's eyes. "I'm obviously not right for the job, as far as your brother is concerned, and his will probably be the final decision."

"You're quite wrong there," Charles Abercrombie said unexpectedly. "I was merely offering advice. My grandmother's wishes will be final and, since you got on so well this afternoon, no doubt you already have the job."

"I couldn't work for you," Elizabeth said unhappily. "I feel that I would never be able to please you however hard I tried."

"At least you're frank—even honest, I expect." The hard mouth quivered in a smile. "You wouldn't be working for-me, Miss Drummond; only for my grandmother. Our meetings would be few and far between, but you understand that I'm naturally concerned about an old lady undertaking such a long journey with an inadequate companion. I had hoped for someone older, an experienced traveller, perhaps."

"If you've found someone to suit you I must be wasting your time." Elizabeth looked at Jason. "Will you thank your grandmother for giving me tea this afternoon?" she added unsteadily. "I left in such a hurry I'm not quite sure whether I thanked her or not."

"You can't go off like this," Jason protested, following her to the door. "Grand'mere wanted to see Charles before she made her final decision. She discusses most things with him, business-wise, anyway, although she doesn't always accept his advice."

"I can imagine," Elizabeth said grimly.

"You'll get to like Charles when you get to know him," he offered.

"I don't think there's much possibility of that, do you?" She turned to face him on the top stair. "You've been very kind, Mr. Abercrombie, and—and I liked your grandmother very much, but I don't think things would work out, somehow. Your brother would never really accept me, and if anything went wrong he would be justified in saying 'I told you so'."

"Not Charles!" Jason said. "He would work out a solution in his own inimitable way. He would be very angry, but he wouldn't show it, and you could be dismissed on the spot."

"I'd rather not find myself half way across the world without a job," Elizabeth told him firmly.

"You needn't worry in that respect," he assured her. "Charles would pay up and see that you got to your agreed destination, even although the whole thing was a terrible inconvenience to him. He wouldn't welsh on a contract once he'd made it."

"I dare say, but I'm sure it would be best not to involve him in the first place," Elizabeth decided.

He stood directly in her path.

"You do want this job, don't you?" he demanded.

"I did—very much." Elizabeth's voice was not as steady as she would have liked it to be. "But I'll have to try again. Before I saw your advertisement I knew I would have to save a lot more money before I could go to Scotland, so I'm really just back to square one."

"We'll work something out," he said, bidding her goodbye on the doorstep. "We'll be in touch."

She had no real hope of the outcome, Elizabeth convinced herself as she walked rapidly away from the scene of her encounter with Charles Abercrombie. She had tried and failed, and it was perhaps ridiculous to feel so bitterly disappointed.

She walked all the way back to the flat, hurrying along the busy city thoroughfares which were thronged with homegoing workers spilling from office blocks and out of shops. Most of the shops were closed now, the traffic slackening a little as she turned into Hyde Park. There was a Hyde Park in London, she thought, but it would be some time before she saw it now.

Sydney was a maze of parks, from the Surry Hills down to the sea, contributing their green lushness to the city's grey. It was a lovely place, a place she would be sorry to leave, yet she would have gone willingly only an hour ago.

Her pace slackened, her feet dragging a little as she grew tired. Jason Abercrombie had been so kind, in contrast to his brother, but she supposed he would have very little say when it came to major decisions within the family. Perhaps she was flattering herself about the importance of the job, however. Charles Abercrombie could so easily decide that it was a minor issue, after all, and not really imperative for the smooth running of Abercrombie and Sons.

A small, foolish hope stirred in her heart until she remembered all she had said to him. She had burned her boats behind her in a big way.

She reached Paddington, at last, turned into Openden Street and hurried towards the flat she had shared with Biba Carrington for the past few weeks. Biba was a designer working for a textile firm on the outskirts of the city and they had become close friends.

"Where cm earth have you been?" she demanded as Elizabeth opened the door. "I was in half a mind to phone the police or the fire brigade or something. I thought you went for the interview at eleven o'clock."

Elizabeth discarded her coat and handbag on the nearest chair. "I did."

"And you've been celebrating? Tell all!"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"You jump to the nicest conclusions, Biba, but it hasn't been like that at all," she explained. "I did have lunch with one of the partners—Jason Abercrombie— but I fell foul of his brother in the end."

"What had he to do with it?" Biba demanded from the kitchen where she had gone to start their evening meal.

"He's the senior partner. He has all the say, apparently."

"What about the old lady?"

"She was charming." The look of defeat disappeared from Elizabeth's eyes. "I know we would have got on well. She isn't old at all, just full of enthusiasm for life."

"What went wrong?" Biba came to stand in the communicating doorway. "Where did you slip up?"

"I told Charles Abercrombie exactly what I thought of him."

Biba whistled.

"Did you now? He must have been brandishing an outsize stick to get you as het up as that!"

Elizabeth began to set the table for their meal.

"I hate people to prejudge me," she confessed. "He only saw my paper qualifications, which included my age, of course, and he immediately decided that I was bound to be incompetent."

"Unsuitable for the job," Biba mused. "But you're not You're amply marvellous with elderly ladies."

"I don't think it would have mattered one little bit if I'd been able to convince him of that," Elizabeth declared. "Charles Abercrombie just didn't like me."

"It sounds mutual," Biba observed, "but unfair. After all, I don't suppose you would have seen much of him after you left Sydney."

"He's the big noise at the Scottish end of the business, but—no, I don't suppose I would have got in his way once I had delivered Mrs. Abercrombie to her destination." Suddenly Elizabeth was smiling. "That's all wrong, you know!" she declared. "I'm giving you an absolutely false impression of a very strong and rather endearing character. I wish you'd met her, Biba. She's seventy-three years young, and full of humour. She reminded me of my mother in a good many ways. Nothing would daunt her."

"Except her son Charles."

"He's her grandson."

"As young as that!" Biba's eyebrows shot up. "You really should have been able to cope."

"You didn't meet Charles Abercrombie!"

"Well, that's that! Don't look so devastated," Biba urged. "Something else will turn up."

"This seemed—rather special," Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose I expected too much, everything falling into my lap because it was just what I wanted. It was a wonderful opportunity, and I liked Mrs. Abercrombie very much."

Biba hesitated beside the stove.

"Shall we got out and celebrate the non-event?" she asked, realising how deeply disappointed Elizabeth was by her failure. "We could drown our sorrows in Armand's delicious coffee, if you like."

Elizabeth hesitated.

"Let's just stay here," she suggested. "You've made
stracotto,
and I love it. I don't think even Armand's coffee would help at the moment."

"I've never seen you so deflated," Biba said, adding tomato puree to the steak.

"I'm sorry it shows so badly," said Elizabeth, smiling determinedly. "By tomorrow I'll have forgotten all about it."

"I'm selfish enough to feel a little glad," Biba confessed, sniffing at the delightful concoction in the pan. "You won't be dashing off to Europe quite so quickly now."

They had got on well together from the start when Elizabeth had answered Biba's advertisement for a flatmate, stipulating that the applicant had to be one hundred per cent Australian. "And finally I chose you," Biba had reflected. "Someone just aching to leave Australia for 'the old country' because her mother had fed her the romantic bit about the heather and the rowans so red on the trees that they could be seen for miles!"

"What will you do now, Liz?" Biba asked when they finally sat down to their meal. "Find another job in Australia?"

"Of course." Elizabeth was determined to put her disappointment behind her. "I'm an efficient secretary, in spite of what Mr. Charles Abercrombie may think. There are plenty of jobs in the papers."

"Don't leave Sydney," Biba begged impulsively. "We have a good life here—and Scotland might not come up to scratch, after all."

Elizabeth smiled.

"It's in my blood," she said. "I'll have to go, sooner or later. It was just that—this seemed to be the golden opportunity waiting for me to accept it with grace."

"And but for this Charles Abercrombie man you would be on your way." Biba put the
stracotto
on the table between them. "I guess it just wasn't to be, although you seemed to like the old lady."

"I did." Elizabeth passed her plate to be served. "I think it might have been a wonderful friendship. She was a woman of the world, Biba, in the fullest sense of the word. I feel I could have learned a great deal from her if I'd got the job. Jason Abercrombie was so like her, too, but I think Charles would call him irresponsible."

"He seems to manage the Sydney end of the business quite successfully," Biba mused, biting into a round of freshly-buttered French bread. "My firm has quite a lot of contact with them and they never seem to put a foot wrong."

"Charles Abercrombie would see to that," Elizabeth murmured, unable to forget about Jason's brother.

"He does sound a bit of a dragon," Biba acknowledged, laughing. "I can't quite imagine you facing up to him if he was really breathing fire and brimstone. What did you say?"

"Enough to convince him that I was utterly headstrong and a completely unsuitable companion for an unmanageable old lady who's determined to cross the world at intervals until she dies."

"Pity," Biba declared. "I like what you've told me about her, and I hope she isn't going to be fobbed off with a middle-aged matron who'll drive her up the wall before they reach San Francisco."