Authors: Jane Corrie
That evening, to her annoyance, she found herself making up a foursome at dinner, on Mark's slim excuse that three would be tiresome. He had given her no choice in the matter by blithely remarking that she could fill Dilys in on the history angle of old Brighton, adding with a smile that took
Jenny back to their courting days, 'I'm not quite so well up on that subject as you are.'
The remark, as well as the smile, brought back memories Jenny would rather push away from her. She had been an avid student of the past history of the town she had been born in, and Mark knew this. It was during a visit to the Royal Pavilion that Mark had proposed to her, and the memory brought colour to her cheeks. If Mark had noted this, he said nothing, but Jenny had an uncomfortable feeling that his thoughts were parallel to hers.
As far as Jenny, was concerned the
evening was 'tiresome' indeed !
—what with Dilys trying to work up some enthusiasm over the historic events of the past glories of Brighton, and Jenny trying to ignore the fact that Mark never took his eyes off her all the time she was relating the history, making Dilys's concentration slightly wander from the salient points of interest Jenny was trying to provide her with.
At least Silas gave her his undivided attention, and Jenny had to be thankful for that, but when Dilys suggested a visit to the Pavilion that was enthusiastically seconded by her uncle, she was dismayed to find that she was expected to accompany them, and no amount of excuses would serve to relieve her of this, to her way of thinking, onerous task.
If she had hoped for Mark's co-operation in getting her out of such an outing, she was disappointed, for he merely sat there smiling, and weighed in on the Hawters' side. When he nodded complacently
at Dilys's eager, 'You're coming of course, aren't you, Mark?' Jenny could have spat at him, she was so furious. If he had tried to embarrass her, he couldn't have found a better way of doing it—although it was hardly likely that either Silas or Dilys knew of the personal event that had taken place between her and Mark during their last visit.
How she could be expected to conduct such a tour, not only with such memories crowding in on her, but with the very man that she shared those memories with, was beyond her comprehension.
Two days later, however, Jenny had come to the undeniable conclusion that she had been right all along in her previous summing-up of Mark's reason for introducing her to the Hawters, for it was plain to see that Dilys, as Jenny had suspected, was a very determined
young lady, and had her quarry
been anyone else but Mark Chanter, Jenny would have advised the unfortunate recipient of her devotion to wave the white flag! As it was, she had every confidence in Mark successfully eluding the net, and was even a little intrigued as she stood, as it were, on the sidelines, and watched battle commence.
To be strictly honest, no matter how furious she was with Mark for dragging her into the fray, she was certain that he had not encouraged Dilys in any way. If she had not been Silas Hawter's niece, then he might have flirted with her, but Jenny knew instinctively that he would respect his friendship with Silas, and as such, would do nothing to endanger it.
If Jenny was at times embarrassed by the way Dilys haunted Mark, then her uncle was no less embarrassed. Jenny felt sorry for him, for he too was a bystander, but it must have been much more difficult for him. He had a high regard for Mark, and he loved his niece. No matter how much he might hope that Dilys achieved her heart's desire, lie surely knew now that Mark had no intention of marrying her, and Jenny wondered whether he had tried to instil this fact into Dilys. Perhaps he had known it would have been a useless quest, and like Jenny had to wait and see the whole miserable business through to its sad culmination. If she knew Mark, it would not be long before he called a halt to the fiasco in no uncertain terms, as Jenny was sure he would have done some time ago if it had not been for Dilys's relationship to Silas Hawter.
Her thoughts on the Pavilion outing, however, took a very different turn from the slightly sympathetic attitude she had taken against the Mark versus Dilys affair. Even though she had now reasoned out that Mark was trading on their past association to help him out of a dilemma, but dilemma or not, no man with an ounce of sensitivity would have attempted to instigate such a visit to the place that held such poignant memories to both of them. On this thought she corrected herself hastily; not to both of them—only her. Not that that would have mattered one whit to him. He had said that she owed him, hadn't he? This would have been his way of exacting some kind of penance. It was also a good way of making sure that he would
not be landed with the task of escorting Dilys to the places she wished to visit.
He could have found no better way of showing her that he was completely indifferent to her feelings on this, and if she were fool enough to show her chagrin at being used in this way, then it would only give him satisfaction, and do nothing for her much deflated ego. It was at this point that Jenny recalled what Silas Hawter had said about Mark having a few ghosts to lay, and it did occur to her that maybe the trip to the Pavilion was in aid of this, only she could not believe in the credibility of this. As for laying a few ghosts, in her case it would mean raising them, after she had taken such pains to bury them.
The evening before they were due to visit the Pavilion, Dilys buttonholed Jenny as she was about to retire to her room after once again spending the evening making up a foursome at dinner at Mark's insistence, and Dilys's fury, since she had still not managed to wangle a solo date with Mark.
During dinner he had been exceptionally attentive to Jenny, and not surprisingly Dilys was on the warpath. As Jenny's quarters were on the other side of the hotel premises to Dilys's room, she was a little dismayed to find that Dilys had doubled back after saying goodnight to them all, and caught up with Jenny as she was on the point of entering her rooms.
Her grim, 'I think it's time we had a talk,' left Jenny in no doubt of her purpose, and no chance of evading the issue either.
Jenny was tired, and no matter how understand-
ing she might have tried to be, in all fairness she did not deserve this kind of treatment—not from Mark, who was plainly enjoying her discomfiture at his very obvious attentiveness during the dinners he prevailed upon her to attend, and who reverted back to the cool, slightly distant boss during working hours-or from this girl who had set her sights on an impossible dream.
'Just what do you hope to gain by playing up to Mark?' Dilys demanded furiously. 'And don't try to act the innocent with me. I know everything—why he jilted you for a start—and if you're thinking he'll take you back, then you're wasting your time. He's playing with you. Why don't you use your head and get out?'
It was a question Jenny had asked herself not so very long ago, the 'getting out' part anyway, for there were limits to what she was prepared to put up with, home or no home, and she eyed the girl with just as much fury in her eyes. It was bad enough Mark bringing up the past without this girl who wouldn't take no for an answer bringing it up.
'Might I ask just what the past has to do with you?' she asked coldly, thinking it was about time Dilys received a few home truths, and if she wasn't very careful, she might find herself on the receiving end of the lecture her uncle, or Mark, had failed to deliver.
'Everything!' spat out Dilys. 'I love Mark—have always loved him. If you hadn't the sense to know that you couldn't play fast and loose with him, that's
your bad luck. It's my turn now, and I don't intend to stand aside for you or anyone—particularly for you. If it hadn't been for the way you treated him he might well have married me by now. As it is he simply refuses to take me seriously—treats me as a little girl who doesn't know what she wants—and I'm sick of it!' Her voice had risen slightly, and Jenny felt her anger evaporate. You couldn't feel angry at someone you felt sorry for, even though they were rather tiresome.
She sighed as she asked bluntly, 'Mark told you about us, did he?'
Dilys's chin went up in a defensive manner as she replied swiftly, `No, as a matter of fact, he didn't, but I found out what happened from an old friend of mine who married a friend of his.' She stared at the carpet at her feet, before she added, a little wistfully to Jenny's way of thinking, 'He was absolutely furious when I mentioned it to him a day or so ago, but I didn't care—I wanted him to know that I knew about you, and that I wasn't just a child that things had to be kept from as if they didn't concern me—they do!' Her face started to crumple as she said this, and Jenny was afraid that she would break down and cry her heart out on the spot, and as things were she would never forgive Jenny for bringing her to this pass.
`Of course I know he's playing with me,' she said swiftly, i
n an effort to bring Dilys out
flier misery, and it worked, for she quickly looked up at Jenny, her eyes hopeful, yet wary. 'I would have been a fool not to know it,' went on Jenny, in a matter-of-
fact voice. 'As for "getting out", as you put it, I've given the matter a great deal of thought.' Her eyes swept over the room they stood in. Over the comfortable three-piece suite, the tapestry foot stool that her father had used to rest his feet on at the end of a hectic day. The occasional tables filled with various bits of bric-à-brac, all of personal importance—to her, that was, not to anybody else. It was a pleasant room, and one that held many happy memories.
'This is the only home I have ever known,' she said simply. `I was born here. My father was the hotel manager,' she added quietly. `But I expect you know that, too. You will also know, I presume, that the contract I signed with your uncle, in the mistaken belief that it was he who was purchasing Peacock's Walk, specifically stated that I was to be retained.' She gave a shrug of her slim shoulders; if Dilys hadn't known this before, then it was as well that she knew now. It wouldn't make matters right between her and Mark, but it might bring some understanding between the two girls.
`I knew,' she went on carefully, 'that Mark was interested in purchasing Peacock's Walk. He'd shown an interest in it long before I came on the scene—in the personal sense, that was'—this, was true, for Malcolm had spoken of it to Jenny before she had met Mark. Jenny walked over to an easy chair before continuing and nodded towards the other one for Dilys to either remain standing or sit down with her. Dilys chose to remain where she was, so Jenny went on, `As for wanting, or even hoping Mark would take me back—I'm afraid
you've miscalculated there. I have no wish to enter into another emotional affair with him. You don't have to believe me, but it's the truth. I also think that Mark knows this very well, and is enjoying himself at my expense—or what he thinks is my expense. There were good reasons for my staying on, quite apart from the fact that this is my home—or was my home—and they had nothing to do with any wishful thinking on my part about Mark.'
She looked up at Dilys, now concentrating with fierce intensity on the carpet at her feet. 'I don't suppose you'll listen to my advice, but I feel I ought to warn you that Mark has no intention of entering into the marriage stakes, not with you, or anyone else—and certainly not me. Why don't you go back home and let him do the running? If he's really fond of you then he'll seek you out sooner or later. He's not the kind of man who likes his mind made up for him, which is what you're trying to do, isn't it? And it just won't work,' she gently remonstrated to the now indignant Dilys.
`You're a fine one to talk about what he likes or does not like,' retorted Dilys furiously. 'If you'd known him better you wouldn't have two-timed him like that, so don't go lecturing me on what I should or shouldn't do! And I'll tell you something else—I'm not going home until I've got what I want. For one thing, I don't believe you had any other reason for staying on apart from wanting to make things up with Mark. It's not as if you had to work, is it? Your last boy-friend made sure of that—but perhaps you felt it wasn't enough—and Mark's a rich
man, isn't he? Well, whatever you've got planned in that line isn't going to work either. I'll see to that! '
Jenny ought to have been furious, but she was too tired of the subject to work up any such feelings, but just sat looking at the thoroughly worked up Dilys, absently noting the way her brown velvet gown was cut a little lower at the cleavage than was necessary, unless one wanted to create a diversion in a certain quarter—and that hadn't worked either, she thought tiredly, recalling how Mark had given the barest attention to her all evening, which was why she was taking it out of Jenny. Her hair had been pulled back in a ponytail style that gave her a youthful look quite out of keeping with the sophisticated dress she had chosen. They ought to have exchanged dresses, she thought with an inward sigh. Her simply styled, cotton textured dress would have suited Dilys far better than the brown velvet one. Although Jenny was two years older than Dilys, at that moment in time it felt more like ten years.
Jenny got up and walked towards the door. If Dilys was hoping for a slanging match with her, then she was going to be disappointed, she thought wearily, as she opened the door and waited for Dilys to make her departure, adding softly as the girl took the broad hint and flounced towards the door, 'I'm sorry, Dilys. We could have been friends, you know. For what it's worth, I wish you all the success in the world where Mark Chanter is concerned.'