Authors: Mary Cummins
“Perhaps I’d better be getting home,” she said, rising rather abruptly. “Mrs. Cameron and I are busy sorting out Aunt Ellen s things.”
“I’ll drive you home,” offered Nigel.
“No, it’s all
right ...
I’d like to walk.”
“Then I’ll walk with you. It will probably do us both good.”
As they passed the Cot House, the crimson and pink streamers from the setting sun lighting it up with a vivid glow, Merry caught sight of Benjamin hanging over the gate.
“Good evening,” he grinned at both of them. “Wonderful night for walking.”
“It certainly is,” agreed Nigel with enthusiasm, and Merry wondered why she felt slightly annoyed when he tucked her hand possessively through his arm. She wriggled uncomfortably, feeling as though Benjamin’s eyes were boring through her back, then laughed at her own imagination. What an irritating effect Benjamin had on her, she thought crossly.
As they reached the gates of Beau Ness, Nigel refused an invitation to come in, but clasped Merry’s hand warmly, then bent and quickly kissed her cheek.
“You’re a lovely girl, Merry,” he whispered. “Goodnight, my dear
...
see you soon.”
“Goodnight, Nigel,” said Merry softly.
That night she wanted to dream of Nigel, but his blue in his friendly boyish face refused to stay in her mind. Instead it was Benjamin who grinned at her sardonically, and Merry fell asleep still feeling cross with herself.
CHAPTER 3
ON Wednesday Benjamin turned up for tea looking spruce in a brown tweed suit and fawn woollen tie. Merry was still getting used to the Scottish high tea which Mrs. Cameron preferred to serve, and which she, too, was beginning to prefer.
It was obvious that Benjamin preferred it, too, as Mrs. Cameron greeted him with the news that tea wouldn’t be long. She had a nice bit of salmon she was serving up with two kinds of salads, and her scones would soon be out of the oven.
“Good,” said Benjamin, rubbing his hands as he sat down in front of the sitting-room fire while Merry excused herself for a moment and ran to repair her make-up. When she returned, wearing a clover-pink angora dress, he looked very much at home with his long legs stretched out comfortably.
“I like this room,” he remarked. “It’s got the right atmosphere. I could paint you one day, sitting on this chair here. Come and see what you look like.”
Obediently she came to sit beside him on the chair he indicated, and he pretended to study her from all angles.
“Very nice,” he approved, and Merry found herself blushing like a schoolgirl.
“I’m glad you’re satisfied,” she said, a trifle tartly.
“Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself, apart from trotting up to Rossie House,” he commanded, and again Merry coloured a little.
“I only went to tea,” she said defensively, “and to see some of their jewellery, though I don’t expect you’d be interested in that.”
“Why not?” asked Benjamin. “Of course I’m interested. In fact, I’m going tomorrow night to photograph some of it for a new book cover I’m working on. It’s called
The Seven Diamonds Mystery,
and I expect Stephanie to find me at least seven diamonds.”
“Are you being sarcastic?” asked Merry, and some of the laughter left his eyes.
“I’m sorry you think that, Merry. In fact, I’ve no particularly strong feelings about the undoubted fine pieces of jewellery the Kilpatricks sell. I just can’t help remembering, at times, that one of their fine choice rings could provide quite a few dinners for the McConnells, and old Jake Grieve could not only have a new pair of boots, but a whole new wardrobe of clothes with the change.”
“You can’t compare the two,” defended Merry. “The fact that hundreds of people are poor and ill-fed doesn’t mean that beautiful jewellery should not be made, jewellery which will last for ever. And in any case, I’ve seen the McConnells tucking into some good rabbit stew and apple pie, and Jake’s new boots, when he gets them, will give him even more pleasure than a new bracelet would give to a wealthy woman.” There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Will you be coming now for your tea?” asked Mrs. Cameron. “I’ve laid it all ready in the dining-room, and I’ve lit the fire, Miss Merry. The days are a bit chilly now.”
“Lovely, Mrs. Cameron,” smiled Merry. “Shall we go, then, Benjamin?”
It was a cosy tea, but Merry felt very conscious of the strong-natured man sitting across the table.
“Have you started writing yet?” he asked blun
tl
y.
She hesitated before replying, and Benjamin pursed his lips.
“I shouldn’t like to think you were one of those people who talk plenty about writing, but are so busy talking they’ve no time for doing.”
“Of course I’m not,” protested Merry. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been busy making notes. I’ve found lots of notebooks belonging to Aunt Ellen and they’ve given me an idea for a book. They capture the atmosphere of the twenties so vividly, and I’ve found plenty of photographs and things like theatre programmes.”
She warmed to her subject, and was unaware how attractive she looked as her cheeks flushed and her eyes, glowed.
“Aunt Ellen would make a wonderful heroine. I used to wonder why she hadn’t married, because she was so lovely, but I think I know now. I think she was in love with a young man who was killed in a climbing accident
...
Ian Ross-Findlater.”
“My uncle,” put in Benjamin.
“Oh, I forgot,” said Merry, a trifle taken aback.
“He was my godfather, and looked after me when my parents died. Grandfather was rather old, you see.”
“I
...
I’m sorry,” she said awkwardly, at a loss to express the sympathy she felt. “Perhaps I’d better not put him in the story
...
even if I disguise both of them quite a lot.”
“Why not?” asked Benjamin. “Perhaps it would make them happy to have their love story handed down to posterity.”
“There you go again,” said Merry with annoyance. “You always seem to be laughing at me
!”
Benjamin’s black eyes regarded her thoughtfully.
“It was meant to be a gently teasing remark,” he told her. “I think you’re far too sensitive
about your writing, Merry. You mustn’t fly off the handle at perfectly innocent comments. I don’t know what your writing is like, but I remember Miss Blayne telling me you’d sold some of your stuff, so at least the potential is there, and I trust you are intelligent and tenacious enough to develop it. So for goodness’ sake stop looking for insults, and try to believe I’m taking an intelligent interest in you.”
“Are you?” she asked, and his face softened into a smile at her look of wide-eyed innocence.
“Of course I am,” he assured her. “I promised your Aunt Ellen I’d look after you, and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”
“Oh.”
Merry felt slightly taken aback, then she looked at Benjamin with new understanding of the slightly bossy attitude he used towards her, which irritated her so much. He felt responsible for her, because he had promised Aunt Ellen!
“I’m old enough to look after myself,” she told him tartly, and again his eyes lit with amusement.
“Of course you are,” he agreed placatingly. “Now, if we can go back to Uncle Ian. I’ll find out all I can about him for you, if you think it will help.”
“Thank you,” she said mechanically, still feeling ruffled inside. The last thing she wanted was a watch-dog!
But when Benjamin left for home, after tea, and waved to her casually from the gate, she watched his tall figure swinging down the road until he was out of sight.
The showrooms above Kilpatricks at Hillington still showed signs of last-minute preparations, when Merry arrived with Nigel. Stephanie had asked if she would like to help to keep a check on the stock as Mr. Kilpatrick’s secretary had just left to get married, and Stephanie was to have taken her place.
“Here’s a list of the goods on each stand,” she said, handing Merry a typewritten list, “and here’s the most important one, a list of our largest pieces to be worn by the mannequins. There are six girls in all, five and myself. I’ll wear the diamonds, and the final piece will be the topaz ring. I’ve got a black velvet evening dress for the diamonds, and a silver cocktail for the ring. I’ll show you the changing room, then you can collect the pieces and return them to Nigel where you’ll both initial the list after he has locked them in the case. O.K.?”
“O.K.,” said Merry, rather nervously, feeling dazzled by her surroundings. Six stands had been set up in one end of the room, and members of Kilpatricks’ staff were busy laying out jewellery on the crimson velvet pads. One stand was devoted to cultured pearls and artificial grass had been used as a background for their wonderful milky-white texture. Another stand was entirely devoted to antique jewellery, and Merry was fascinated by the heavy, rather ornate pieces, her imagination stirred by the ghosts of gracious ladies of a bygone age, wearing these very pieces at glittering social occasions.
“You’ve got an awful lot of stock,” she said to Stephanie.
“Not quite so much as this,” the other girl told her. “Some of the London manufacturers who supply our stocks have kindly sent us extra pieces especially for this evening. These cocktail rings, for instance, have been lent, as few people in Hillington buy cocktail rings at the moment and it’s helpful to show them what is available. It might create a demand.”
Merry examined the tray of large, gem
-
studded rings, some designed like flowers, and watched while a smart young lady slipped them into individual pads,
a
nd placed them attractively on the stand.
“They look fabulous to me,” she whispered.
She glanced at her list.
“Those are stock numbers,” Stephanie pointed out. “You’ll find a small ticket on each piece, and it will have that number written on it in red ink. On the other side, in black ink, is the price code. Sure you can read it, if asked?”
“Quite sure,” nodded Merry. Nigel had spent some time teaching her this.
“Good,” laughed Stephanie. “We’ll make a jeweller of you yet
!”
Merry coloured a little at the praise, glad that Stephanie appeared to have accepted her. The fair girl looked beautiful this evening, her lovely silvery blonde hair having been set in a crisscross style, her cool delicate features artistically made-up.
Merry, too, was looking her best in a beautiful emerald green chiffon cocktail dress, expertly cut, with flowing panels down the back. Nigel had approved of it wholeheartedly when he called to collect her, and she was glad that Aunt Ellen had given her such good advice when choosing her clothes.
Her only adornment, apart from her gold watch, was the small scarlet disc which a detective had given her at the door. Everyone wore a similar disc, and each name had been ticked off as the disc was handed out.
“You’ll see one or two solid-looking gentlemen mingling with the guests,” Nigel told her, with a smile. “Don’t lose your disc, or you’re liable to be quietly removed. They’ve a good way of spotting anyone who’s been clever enough to gatecrash.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” said Merry.
“We have to,” Nigel told her grimly. “There’s been so many jewel robberies, the insurance companies are getting sticky, and I don’t blame them. If we’re careless, they won’t pay up if we lose anything.”
Now Merry began to study her list, and to help Nigel sort out the pieces for each mannequin to wear. Mr. Kilpatrick was welcoming his guests and showing them to small tables at the other end of the room, where discreet waiters were serving champagne, and bowls of crisps and nuts had been put in the centre of each table, together with cigarettes and ashtrays.
Merry had a moment to study the guests. Many of the women looked elegant and charming and were already wearing a lovely but discreet piece of jewellery. Their husbands, looking every inch the successful professional or business man, laughed and joked with Mr. Kilpatrick.
There were others, however, with sharp discontented faces and tired eyes, whose fingers were already clustered with glittering rings, while gold bracelets jostled each other on flabby white arms. Merry watched them weigh up the scene calculatingly, and shivered a little with distaste, as though a splash of ugliness had been painted over a lovely picture.
“New warm clothes for the McConnells and decent living conditions for some of the cottagers in Kilbraggan,” whispered a voice in her ear.
Merry started, then smiled as she turned to find Benjamin grinning at her.
“Boots for Jake Grieve,” she returned.
“He’s got a pair,” he told her.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I made up my mind at the last moment,” he told her smilingly
.
“See how the other half live.
Stephanie invited me.” Proudly he displayed his red badge. “Are you enjoying yourself, little Merry?”
“I’m here to work,” she told him proudly, folding her list.
“Nice working clothes. In that dress, your hair looks like lovely ripe chestnuts.”
Merry couldn’t stop the warm colour flooding her cheeks, though the compliment was made in such an indulgent tone that she knew she couldn’t take it seriously.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said primly, and he laughed.
“What sort of work?” he asked, looking round curiously.