A Pearl for Love Read online

‘Apart from that, we only have Miss Pryce, who has been with us for over thirty years, and who works with Elizabeth, or...’ James smiled a little, ‘... perhaps I ought to put that the other way round! At one time we also had two more young men, but greater overheads and higher salaries have forced us to cut down a little, so that when Tom Dearham went off to be manager in a smaller firm, I just couldn’t replace him. So...’ he smiled again ... ‘you’ll be most welcome, Kate. I can’t imagine that David Lyall’s daughter will require much training in jewellery, either. He was always very keen on all forms of gemmology, and became a Fellow of the Gemmological Association for the love of it.’

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Catherine nodded. ‘I remember watching Daddy when he tested a stone for refractive index, and how he used to know the specific gravity of every stone and its comparative hardness to the diamond. I could practically recite a few of those facts myself!’

  ‘Then you must keep up the good work,’ James assured her. ‘John and Michael took their F.G.A. examinations a few years ago, and Elizabeth passed hers last year. It shouldn’t take you long to study everything you need, and we’ll help you all we can.’ He turned to Mrs. Neill.

  ‘Does that make you feel any happier?’

  Mrs. Neill hesitated, feeling that she could hardly discuss financial arrangements. That would be going much too far in her desire to see Catherine well settled and protected. She had no reason to suppose that the girl might be exploited. In fact, they should all be grateful for this opportunity which had arisen. Mrs. Sheridan was going to attend to the lease of her fiat, and the storage of furniture she wished to keep, while selling off any extra. Catherine would have a small nest egg, enough to make her feel secure should an emergency arise.

  ‘I can see that Catherine will be in good hands, Mr. Sheridan, ‘Mrs. Neill smiled. ‘I’m very relieved. ‘

  ‘She has also a fairly long drive ahead of her,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘Are you well enough to travel, my dear?’

  ‘The doctor says it will be quite all right by car,’ Catherine assured him. ‘I’m only taking a small amount of luggage, though I hope I can send for the rest of my things when I’m settled.’

  ‘I shall keep them for as long as you like,’ Mrs. Neill assured her, and Catherine felt the sudden rush of tears pricking her throat.

  ‘I can collect them when I come to see about your flat,’ James Sheridan suggested. ‘You’ve sorted our personal things, Catherine?’

  ‘Yes.’ She turned to Mrs. Neill. ‘I’ll come back and see you soon.’

  ‘Keep in touch,’ Mrs. Neill urged her, as they parted. ‘If you aren’t happy...’

  ‘I know. I said goodbye to Mr. Neill this morning, but my love to him ... and you.’

  Soon she was speeding south in the large comfortable car, and crossing the lovely Forth Bridge.

  ‘We’ll rest in Edinburgh for a cup of tea,’ Mr. Sheridan decided. ‘Easy stages will be best.’

  It was dark and rather late by the time they drove into Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a city which was strange to Catherine, but even in the dark she was conscious that it was large and interesting, and that the outskirts where Uncle James lived were fresh and lovely.

  ‘You’ll have to get to know Northumberland,’ he told her, as they drove along quiet roads lined with gently swaying trees which looked ghostly and rather mysterious in the bright moonlight. ‘It’s a beautiful county, with a great deal of historic interest. John and Elizabeth will be happy to take you sightseeing, I’m sure.’

  John and Elizabeth! Catherine felt her heart suddenly quaking a little. She was sure that Uncle James and Aunt Lucille would be happy to have her live with them, but it was only now that she was beginning to realise that she would be in close contact with young people of her own age. Suppose they didn’t like her. Suppose they resented her presence in the house.

  It was too late to have regrets, however, as the car turned in a gravelled drive between lovely wrought-iron gates, and Balgower, a large imposing house of red brick, with huge bay windows, came into view.

  ‘Here we are,’ said Uncle James cheerfully. ‘Welcome home, Catherine. Come in, my dear, and say hello to Aunt Lucille and the family.’

  There was only Aunt Lucille at home. After Mrs. Neill’s rather reserved nature, and her quiet but kindly attitude towards her, Catherine found Lucille Sheridan effusive in her welcome. Yet surely that was in her favour. She rushed forward to envelop the girl in a warm hug, her body softly plump, reminding Catherine of a small shapely pigeon.

  ‘Catherine! My dear, you’re grown up. And how like your mother... Oh!’

  Catherine’s smile was a trifle unsteady.

  ‘It’s all right, Aunt Lucille. I ... I’ve come to terms with what happened. Don’t hesitate to talk about Mother ... or Philip.’

  ‘You poor child!’ Lucille’s voice was full of sympathy, and she led Catherine into a large spacious lounge, richly carpeted, with deep sofas and armchairs, and long velvet curtains pulled across the windows.

  ‘What a lovely room,’ Catherine said sincerely, and knew she had pleased Lucille, who beamed on her, and turned to James, who said he would go straight upstairs to wash and change.

  ‘I’ll take Catherine up to her room. Would you like to have a hot drink up in bed, my dear, or would you prefer to come downstairs again for a short while? John and Elizabeth should be in soon, but you can meet them both tomorrow, if you’d prefer that.’

  ‘No, I’ll come back down,’ offered Catherine.

  ‘She’s been ill,’ James pointed out, ‘and she’s had a long journey. She ought to go to bed now.’

  ‘Mrs. Bannon has everything ready for you, my dear, and you can have whatever drink you like.’

  Suddenly Catherine did feel tired, her body heavy and her head beginning to ache a little.

  ‘All right,’ she nodded. ‘I...’

  ‘Ah, here are the children now,’ cried Aunt Lucille, opening the door. ‘You’re just in time to say hello to Catherine. She’s going to bed after her journey.’

  Catherine looked curiously at Elizabeth Sheridan as she walked towards her. She was a tall girl, very thin and smart, with sharp features and smoothly coiled reddish-brown hair. She might have been plain but for her superb dress sense. Catherine’s eyes were full of admiration, thinking she had rarely seen anyone more striking.

  ‘How do you do,’ she said, rather shyly, and found herself being weighed up dispassionately, as Elizabeth shook hands firmly.

  ‘How do you do, Catherine. I hope you had a good journey.’

  There was no real warmth in the welcome, but no animosity either. It was as though Elizabeth preferred to reserve judgement as to whether she really wanted to welcome Catherine or not.

  Then John Sheridan strode forward, a tall loose-limbed young man with his sister’s piercing dark eyes, but a warm, rather lop-sided grin.

  ‘Hello, Catherine,’ he greeted her. ‘Welcome to the fold. You’re a brave lass, taking us on.’

  ‘Oh, John! I’m sure Catherine is most grateful ... glad, I mean...’

  ‘Grateful,’ repeated John. ‘Don’t forget to be grateful, Kate. It’s expected of you.’

  ‘Stop teasing, John,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You’ll have the poor girl all confused!’

  Lucille’s cheeks were growing slightly pink, but John was laughing as his father walked bade downstairs.

  ‘You shouldn’t rise to the bait, darling,’ he grinned, and James frowned.

  ‘Catherine is too fatigued for your jokes tonight, John,’ he admonished. ‘Here’s Mrs. Bannon. She’s got everything ready for you, my dear.’

  ‘A warm bath, then bed,’ fussed Lucille.

  ‘This way, Miss Catherine,’ said Mrs. Bannon, a hint of Irish in her accent.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she said, a trifle awkwardly, following the stout, grey-haired woman.

  ‘Goodnight!’

  ‘You are a fool, John...’

  Catherine could hear Elizabeth’s clear vo
ice as she mounted the stairs. He’d told her not to forget to be grateful. Did that mean that she was going to be asked to pay for her new home and family? That, in fact, she was going to be an underpaid assistant?

  It really didn’t matter, thought Catherine, when she saw her pretty bedroom, decorated in soft shades of lavender. It was the prettiest bedroom she had ever had, and she was glad it wasn’t pink. She had never cared for a pink bedroom.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ she said to Mrs. Bannon.

  ‘Indeed it is,’ the housekeeper beamed. ‘I’m sure we all hope you’ll be happy here, my dear.’

  ‘I couldn’t ask for a warmer welcome,’ the girl said. There was no need to summon up gratitude. It was all there of its own accord. ‘Everyone has been so kind.’

  But although her bed was soft as thistledown, and she felt warm and comfortable, sleep eluded her for many hours. She thought about the Sheridans, who were all now so close to her. Uncle James, who looked tired and worried when he was off guard; Aunt Lucille who was warm and soft as a small cat ... cat? wondered Catherine. Didn’t she mean pigeon?

  Then there was the smart, attractive Elizabeth, whose looks were so striking, and John Sheridan, with his teasing smile and his ready tongue. Somehow he was not the brisk and smartly competent young business man she had pictured when Uncle James told her he shared responsibility for the diamond jewellery in the shop. She couldn’t think of John as an expert on diamonds. Yet a young man, responsible for a large stock of diamonds, would certainly not be a fool!

  It was agreed that Catherine should stay at Balgower for two weeks, then start work at the shop in Newcastle, helping Miss Pryce with the cultured pearls. She looked forward to that, but knew the wisdom of resting for a further fortnight, as she still felt shaky, and tired easily.

  It was a strange sort of fortnight, when she should have got to know her new family rather well, but somehow that didn’t happen. She learned that Aunt Lucille led a busy, social life and seemed to be rushing off to various committee meetings.

  Uncle James and John both seemed to work long hours, and Elizabeth kept rushing home to dress, and disappear again in her small white Mini, which she drove with little regard to her own safety, or to that of other road users.

  ‘She knocked down the garage doors the day she passed her test,’ John informed Catherine solemnly.

  ‘It was your fault. You shut them after I had opened them, and I had no time...’

  ‘To notice before flying in,’ he agreed.

  He often teased his sister, and she railed back at him, but Catherine was aware of a strong bond between them, and sometimes an odd sort of reserve, too, as though there were some things on which they had agreed to differ.

  Elizabeth wore a beautiful solitaire diamond engagement ring, and was going to marry Michael Rodgers, whose father had started the business with Uncle James. Michael was at present in London, viewing some new designs in clocks and watches.

  ‘He was ill when the Fair was on at Earl’s Court last September,’ John informed Catherine. ‘He took some sort of ‘flu bug, and he was disappointed. He wanted to see the new designs which were available, so now that we’re having a fairly quiet spell before Easter, Michael has gone to Birmingham, and on to London for a look-see.’

  ‘I see,’ said Catherine. ‘Is ... is his father dead now?’

  ‘Yes.’ John’s voice was rather brusque, and Catherine wondered if that was because of her own recent loss. ‘His father is dead and his mother married again. He lives on his own in a small flat above a shop.’

  ‘Like me,’ thought Catherine, feeling a strange affinity with the absent Michael Rodgers. They were both now beholden to the Sheridans for their livelihood, and their emotional needs.

  ‘So he’ll be some sort of junior partner?’ she asked.

  This time John was definitely cagey.

  ‘As I told you, he’s in charge of our watches and clocks,’ he said flatly, and Catherine felt snubbed. She had no wish to pry further into the running of the firm than was necessary.

  ‘Elizabeth will be happy to see him back again,’ she said, rather wistfully, thinking of the times when Philip had been away. And the times when he had returned.

  ‘I guess so.’

  Again John’s voice was offhand, and Catherine rose. She really did not want to discuss family affairs, so there was no need for him to be so off-putting.

  ‘I think I’ll go for a walk,’ she announced.

  ‘Want me to come?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Suddenly John was grinning.

  ‘Don’t be so stand-offish. Just let me get into my old duds and walking boots. You’d better change those shoes, too, and I’ll take you tramping across the fields. We’ll let the good Northumberland air blow on those pale cheeks of yours, and the roses will all bloom again. Oh, and I’ll ask Banny for some sandwiches.’

  Catherine hesitated for a moment. He was an odd and unpredictable young man, she thought. Sometimes he was so deep in thought and so seemingly competent, she felt almost afraid of him. Then he resembled nothing so much as a harum-scarum schoolboy, as he did shortly afterwards when he appeared in old jeans, an anorak, woolly cap and boots, his teeth already biting into an apple, a second one held out to Catherine.

  ‘That’s to save you nibbling the sandwiches before we’ve gone a quarter of a mile.’

  Catherine, too, had changed into black slacks and a scarlet anorak, her dark hair caught in a bow at the back, her vivid blue eyes suddenly sparkling.

  ‘I’m not hungry. Oh ... oh well...’

  ‘Come on. Down to the vegetable garden and through the orchard. We’ll climb over the fence, then no one will see us eating our apples ... if that’s what you’re afraid of. And take off that hair bow. Let your hair down a little. You’re so stiff and formal with us.’

  Stiff and formal? When she got snubbed if she as much as said the wrong thing?

  It was no use arguing, she thought, shaking her long hair free, and feeling the wind blowing it round her cheeks. It really was exhilarating, she thought, as John caught her hand and they clambered over marshy ground, stopping occasionally to look at vast sweeps of landscape, which was already holding great charm for her.

  ‘It looks ... timeless,’ she said.

  ‘Ever seen the Roman Wall?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I’ll take you over to Housesteads next Sunday. You’ll see some marvellous old Roman ruins, and we can have a look at such places as Hexham, a lovely old town, not so far away.’

  ‘Oh, but won’t you ...?’ She stopped. She had been about to ask if he had no girl-friend to whom he was committed, then remembered that she risked another snub. ‘Be busy?’ she finished lamely.

  He grinned at her again, as though he were infuriatingly reading her mind.

  ‘Of course I will. I’ll be busy with you, won’t I?’

  Then his eyes grew serious.

  ‘How do you really feel about coming here, Kate?’ he asked abruptly. ‘Did you want to come, or was it the lesser of two evils?’

  She felt taken aback.

  ‘Of course I wanted to come!’

  He was silent as he led her over to a flat stone dyke, where he began to open up their haversack.

  ‘And you had nothing better in mind? Better for yourself, I mean.’

  ‘I hardly had much choice,’ she said dryly. ‘I’m untrained for a career, and my bank balance isn’t exactly enormous. The only thing I know about at all is gem stones, thanks to Daddy.’

  John was looking at her curiously.

  ‘But you have assets, or one asset which is worth having.’

  ‘Such as?’

  Again his eyes were searching, then they dissolved into laughter.

  ‘More than one, maybe. You’re very beautiful, Catherine. That’s why ... I feel reservations about your coming here. I wonder if it was wise, for you, for all of us.’

  Her brows wrinkled.

  ‘That can soon be
remedied,’ she said stiffly, ‘if your parents feel the same way...’

  ‘They don’t, and don’t go flying off the handle. Believe me, I’m thinking about you, and your future happiness, my dear.’

  There was no doubting his sincerity.

  ‘You speak in riddles, John,’ she told him, rather tiredly, and he was immediately contrite.

  ‘Box my thick ear, Kate,’ he told her, re-packing the haversack. ‘I’m a clumsy fool. I’ve brought you too far, and tired you out.’

  ‘No, I’m not really tired. At least, my body isn’t. A walk like this should do me good.’

  John took her hand as they made their way home rather more slowly.

  ‘Forget all my nonsense,’ he told her. ‘We all of us have problems, some more than most. Only I’ll be looking out for you, Kate. Remember that.’

  She felt strangely warmed as she went upstairs again to change. Had she found a real friend in John Sheridan? Yet ought she to take him seriously? And what did he mean by wondering if she had done the right thing coming here? Who could spoil her happiness? Or, come to that, whose happiness could she spoil?

  In spite of herself, Catherine shivered a little, and put on an extra sweater. Sometimes it wasn’t always so cosy at Balgower.

  Catherine asked John to postpone her outing to Housesteads until a later date when Elizabeth came home with the news that Miss Pryce had to go home, feeling ill.