A Pearl for Love Read online

  She had a tooth removed and it’s become infected, poor old girl,’ she told her mother. ‘Her jaw is badly swollen and she feels really off colour, so she must stay at home till she’s better.

  ‘Poor woman,’ sympathised Lucille. ‘You’ll be missing her, Elizabeth.’

  ‘Yes. That’s why ... where’s Catherine?’

  ‘Helping with some special sort of sweet for dinner. She’s good at that sort of thing.’

  ‘Well, I hope she’ll be good at selling pearls, because I’m wondering if she’s well enough to cope. Getting reasonably good staff is difficult at the moment.’

  Catherine was only too happy to oblige. After a week at Balgower, she felt quite rested enough to want to spread her wings a little. There wasn’t enough challenge in this well-planned house, which already ran on oiled wheels, to keep her busy all day, and she felt lonely when the family were out at business all day. When Aunt Lucille was at home, Catherine felt, rather guiltily, that the older woman was inclined to get on her nerves. Perhaps they got on each other’s nerves, she thought, trying to be fair.

  ‘Are you sure you’re fit enough?’ Elizabeth asked bluntly. ‘Even a large spacious shop like ours can be very tiring, and some customers are infuriating. One must keep one’s temper. They spend hours choosing something, then a month or so later they bring it back and ask to swap it for something else. I often wonder if they do the same thing with their furnishings, or clothes, and what reception they get if they do!’

  Catherine wondered what reception they got from Elizabeth! She had begun to admire the other girl, even if she never felt close to her. There was no merging of their minds, and sometimes Catherine felt that the other girl was still viewing her dispassionately, that she kept standing back and having a good look at her, as though making up her mind about something. She did not feel wholly comfortable with Elizabeth.

  ‘I’m fit enough, and I’ll rest all I can during my off-time. Will my plain dress do?’ she asked. ‘I suppose I ought to get a few more dresses suitable for business.’

  ‘It will be fine,’ Elizabeth assured her, rather absently. Her eye ran over the other girl half enviously. There was no doubt that Catherine was a beauty, even if she still hadn’t learned to make the best of herself . If she did something about her hair, and bought clothes which suited her better, she would be really stunning. Yet perhaps she would lose her own peculiar look of innocence and freshness, which could even be her greatest asset. Elizabeth sighed, thinking how hard she herself had to work to achieve her own smart appearance.

  She thought of Michael, who would be home in two days’ time, and again her eyes swept over Catherine. How would Michael react to her? For a moment there was a bleak look in Elizabeth’s dark eyes, then it was gone. There was no use in crossing bridges. She knew Michael pretty well ... perhaps better than he realised. He always knew what was best for himself.

  ‘Your dark blue dress will be perfect,’ she said to Catherine, in a gentler tone. ‘You’ll have to be up early in the morning, so have an early night. I’ll take you with me in the Mini. Where’s John?’

  ‘Not home yet,’ said Lucille.

  ‘Well, we know where he won’t be,’ said Elizabeth dryly, and there was sudden silence which made Catherine look at them both curiously. Where wouldn’t John be?

  Catherine had already been shown round the lovely jeweller’s shop in the busy city centre, but somehow it seemed different in the early morning, viewed from the other side of the counter.

  And even that was only a figure of speech. The old counters had now been replaced with lovely glass showcases, attractively displayed, besides which were placed comfortable chairs. Sheridan and Rodgers liked to encourage their customers to take their time, and to enjoy buying something which was meant to give pleasure for many years to come.

  Uncle James and John spent some time taking the most valuable displays of diamonds out of the safes, and putting them into the window. Strict rules had long ago been laid down for security reasons, and were kept well up to date, as well as being rigidly followed.

  It was Elizabeth who showed Catherine the lovely cultured pearl displays, and the costing of each one so that she was unlikely to make a mistake.

  ‘Always check with me, if you aren’t sure,’ she advised.

  ‘They’re gorgeous,’ said Catherine, looking at the milky white pearls, the more expensive ones having diamond clips, sometimes with other precious stones. ‘But I wish you could see the freshwater pearls in Perth, Elizabeth.’

  The other girl’s interest was caught.

  ‘Yes, I’d love to see those. Some time I must go and see them for myself.’

  ‘They’re fished out of the Scottish rivers, as you know. Daddy used to do that, of course.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Elizabeth abruptly.

  ‘The colours are so unusual, some even pink and mauve besides cream, and the brooch designs are quite perfect, because they’re made up with backgrounds of bracken and heather ... in gold, of course ... and floral arrangements like snowdrops and bluebells. The biggest of all is the Abernethy pearl, about half an inch in diameter, I believe. I saw it once. It was really beautiful.’

  ‘But...’

  Elizabeth was looking at her curiously.

  ‘Did you see some of the pearls your father found?’

  ‘Oh yes, but they were usually fairly small, but quite valuable. Nothing exciting, though.’

  Uncle James and John came over to speak to her as Mrs. Neal, the cleaning woman, was hurriedly giving a final polish to the showcases.

  ‘Put the kettle on, Mrs. Neal,’ said Uncle James, and she grinned. He was well known for needing a cup of tea long before the usual ‘elevenses.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she assured him.

  ‘Well, Catherine, my dear, are you quite happy? Not worried about anything?’

  ‘Not yet!’ she laughed. ‘It all seems quite straightforward.’

  ‘You can soon learn all you need to know for the moment, then we’ll gradually teach you more. You’re also going to learn about people, my dear. In a jeweller’s like this, one starts to learn about people very quickly, and go on learning, too. Because it doesn’t do to make quick judgements. I’ve had customers in who look as though they’re about to select a small charm for their granddaughter’s birthday, and they’ve gone out the proud possessors of my best brooch or necklace.’

  ‘I’ll keep an open mind,’ nodded Catherine.

  ‘Then we’ll have first break for a cup of tea, then John and Elizabeth can go. We never leave the shop unattended.’

  ‘I can understand that.’

  Uncle James escorted her through to a neat office at the back of the shop. It was scantily but nicely furnished, and a tray had been set out with tea and biscuits by Mrs. Neal. Catherine was surprised to find that she needed that cup of tea, and they wasted no time lingering over it, even though Uncle James assured her, ruefully, that the shop was never terribly busy early in the morning.

  As they went back to relieve John and Elizabeth, Catherine’s eye was caught by a ring of emeralds and diamonds in a very unusual design, and she paused to look at it more closely, and very admiringly. It was delicate and dainty rather than ostentatious.

  ‘Lovely, isn’t it, Miss Catherine?’ asked a voice behind her, and she jumped a little, while Mrs. Neal apologised for startling her.

  ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘It’s the thick carpet.’

  ‘I was so interested in the ring.’

  Mrs. Neal nodded. ‘It was a very special one, that,’ she confided, ‘and I’m glad to see it out on show again, dear. It was Mr. John’s engagement ring, you see, only she gave it back to him.’

  ‘Oh!’

  Catherine felt taken aback. Somehow it had never occurred to her that John, too, might have been engaged. She wanted to ask all sorts of questions, and a look at Mrs. Neal told her that she would be given all the answers, too. But she felt distaste for that kind of g
ossip.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ she said evenly, and walked on to her own side of the shop.

  ‘He’s got over it now, I’ll bet,’ said Mrs. Neal, determined to have the last word. ‘He’ll be over it when he’s put the ring up for sale. He designed it himself, and had it made up. But I bet she’d rather have had the pick of the diamonds, and I expect that’s why he took it back. He would be just the kind to ask her to keep it otherwise.’

  Who was the girl? wondered Catherine. But Uncle James was now walking towards them, and Mrs. Neal had finished the last of the cleaning. Then John and Elizabeth returned, and the first customer of the day arrived, with a watch to be mended, and soon is was Catherine’s turn to deal with a charming elderly woman who was buying pearl earrings for her granddaughter’s twenty-first birthday.

  Catherine enjoyed selling the earrings, and thought how delighted the girl was going to be. She herself had a beautiful brooch in freshwater pearls for her twenty-first birthday, the last gift from her father before he died. She treasured it above anything she possessed, and she decided to ask Elizabeth if she could wear it pinned to her plain dark blue dress.

  But she forgot all about asking Elizabeth. That afternoon the shop door clanged, and a tall, very dark young man strode in purposefully. Catherine looked up and her startled eyes met his, so that for a moment it seemed as though everything stood still.

  Then she heard Elizabeth’s glad voice.

  ‘Michael! So you’re back earlier than you expected.’

  He nodded, his eyes still on Catherine, then he turned to smile at Elizabeth.

  ‘Got through it all quite quickly. How is everything ... and everyone?’

  He glanced again at Catherine, and Elizabeth quickly introduced them.

  ‘You remember, Father told you about Catherine before you left.’

  ‘Of course. How do you do? I hope you’ll be happy here.’

  Catherine could only nod and smile. She thought that Elizabeth’s fiancé was one of the handsomest men she had ever met, and he had that peculiar magnetic quality which both attracted and repelled her.

  Then she looked at Elizabeth whose unusual features were suddenly radiant, and she changed her mind about Elizabeth’s looks. Now she was beautiful.

  That evening Catherine felt very tired as she crawled into bed, though for a long time sleep eluded her. It had been an exciting day. She had enjoyed working at Sheridan and Rodgers, and she could see again some of the lovely pieces of jewellery displayed for sale, pieces which she had examined quite closely as they were put in the safe for the night.

  She thought again about the pretty ring which John had packed away with the others. Had his hand trembled a little when he picked it up, and had she only imagined Michael Rodgers’ slightly raised eyebrows, and Elizabeth’s warning frown when he caught sight of it. What had his fiancée been like, and why had she returned the ring? Questions chased themselves round in Catherine’s head as she tossed and turned. John had seemed quieter and older in the atmosphere of the large shop, and she wondered how well he and Michael Rodgers got on together.

  Catherine closed her eyes again, aware that almost for the first time in weeks her last thoughts weren’t of her mother and Philip, and the usual familiar throb of pain whenever she thought about them was considerably dulled. Perhaps, soon, she would be able to think about them with love, in the same way as she remembered her father.

  But it was Michael Rodgers’ striking good’ looks which dominated her thoughts when she finally fell asleep. He had gazed at her searchingly, as though weighing her up, then he had almost ignored her entirely. He and Uncle James had disappeared into the office, no doubt while Michael told him all about the new designs in clocks and watches he recommended for purchase.

  Or did Michael do his own purchasing? Catherine had no idea, and as her eyes grew heavy, it did not seem to be important.

  CHAPTER III

  Catherine began to settle down to a new routine, and very soon she could price any particular string of pearls, and only needed to examine the ticket to confirm that price.

  Uncle James was a born teacher, and began to tell her about gold and platinum, then on to the precious stones such as emeralds, diamonds, rubies and sapphires, teaching her the relative hardness of each stone compared to the diamond which is the hardest of all known stones, and how to test for specific gravity and refractive index, or the angle at which a ray of light is bent when it hits the surface of a stone.

  She learned how to distinguish between the various cuts of stones, the brilliant cut from the rose, the step cut from the marquise. She learned, too, that sometimes emeralds, sapphires and rubies were more beautiful in a polished form, cabochon cut, than the brilliant cut.

  ‘Look at these stones,’ Uncle James told her, spreading out one or two diamonds big enough to take Catherine’s breath away. ‘How much would you give me for that one?’

  ‘Oh, Uncle James, I couldn’t guess. It’s fabulous!

  ‘Look again, my dear,’ he said quietly, and Catherine took another look. Wasn’t it just a little too brilliant, too perfect? she wondered, and frowned.

  ‘Is ... is it really a diamond?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘It ... well, it seems brighter, somehow.’

  He smiled broadly, well pleased.

  ‘It’s a new form of simulated diamond, the closest ever to the diamond which man has produced himself. In a smaller stone, I guess even I would have to look twice and then look again.’

  ‘Then isn’t it just as good? I mean wouldn’t a ring set with that stone be just as wonderful, and a lot less costly than a diamond ring?’

  ‘Perhaps. But then it wouldn’t be a diamond, would it? It would always just have simulated diamond value. Do you prefer the cultured pearls to the ones your father found?’

  She shook her head, smiling.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. They’re different somehow, even though cultured pearls are still made by the oyster.’

  Uncle James was smiling again.

  ‘Yes, my dear, they’re different. Now take these books home. I’ll find out about classes for you, in order that you can learn how to use such things as a refractometer. John can help us there. I’d like you to stick at it, if you can, Catherine. It’s what your father would have wished, I’m sure. Oh, by the way, now that your flat has been let, and all your personal items gathered together, would you like the rest of them brought here? Do you feel settled enough to stay, Catherine?’

  She nodded. Her life still seemed rather strange to her, and oddly unreal, but she was more settled here, with something interesting to do, than she would have been in Perth. Uncle James had quickly arranged the storage of her best furniture, and she herself had already packed away all her own personal possessions, and had a box full of private papers and other small items belonging to her parents.

  Soon, when she felt able to tackle the job, she would have to go through everything. All bills had been paid, and she had also been to see the family solicitor and bank manager, feeling grateful that there was a small amount of money, but not enough to allow her to forget about the future.

  Sometimes it stretched before her like a great void, and she would feel sudden panic if her head ached again, as it often did since the accident. What would happen to her in the case of illness? Suppose she couldn’t look after herself properly? Her small nest-egg would seem very small indeed, and she would feel frightened and insecure.

  It was then that she often wished that her mother had been willing to discuss their true financial position with her, but ever since her father had died so suddenly, her mother had taken all responsibility on to her own shoulders, and had managed their affairs herself. Even when she was on holiday, everything had been organised for Catherine in her absence.

  Catherine’s heart contracted a little when she thought, too, of her father. He had been older than Alison by fifteen years, and she remembered her mother’s anxiety aft
er they had paid a visit to a heart specialist in Edinburgh just a few months before he died.

  David Lyall had been poor at following his doctor’s advice, and he had continued to lead a rich, full life. A few days before he died, he had hurried off to London on business, and had called in to see the Sheridans on his way back home. Catherine had taken a telephone call from Newcastle, and her father had sounded well and strong, and full of his usual enthusiasm for life. But the excitement of that trip must have cost him his life, because the following morning he had fallen as soon as he got out of bed, and Alison had shouted for Catherine to ring the doctor.

  It was too late. David Lyall died suddenly, and after Alison’s grief had subsided, she was glad it happened that way.

  ‘He hated the thought of being an invalid,’ she told Catherine. ‘It’s better this way ... for him.’

  Now there was only Catherine, and a large box full of old papers, boxes of old-fashioned trinkets which had belonged to both grandmothers, then her mother, old precious books and small pieces of silver which Catherine wanted to keep. Some furniture had stayed in the flat, and some had gone into store against the day when she might once again have her own home. Somehow that day seemed very far away. It was a day she might dream about, though the dream was too cloudy to seem anything like reality.

  In the meantime, she could only be grateful for the home which had been given to her.

  It was a few days before Catherine managed to exchange more than half a dozen words with Michael Rodgers. After the first warm handshake, he had treated her very formally in the shop, though she recognised that he seemed to be kept busy with his part of the business.