Mary Westmacott - Giant's Bread

What an idiot she was to have let herself be upset by Jane. Jane of all people! What did it matter what Jane said or thought? It didn’t, of course – but there was something about Jane – she had the power of – well – upsetting one.

But that was all over now. The old tide of reassurance and safety welled up again. Abbots Puissants, George, the tender memory of Vernon. Everything was all right.

She ran down the stairs happily, hat in hand. She paused a minute to adjust it in front of the mirror. She would go now and join them at the Abbey. She would make herself absolutely charming to Mr Bleibner.

She went down the steps of the terrace and along the garden walk. It was later than she thought. The sun was not far from setting – a beautiful sunset with a crimson sky.

By the goldfish pond a young man in chauffeur’s livery was standing with his back to her. He turned at her approach and civilly raised a finger to his cap.

She stood stock still and slowly an unconscious hand crept up to her heart as she stood there staring.

George Green stared.

Then he ejaculated to himself, ‘Well, that’s a rum go.’

On arrival at their destination, his master had said to him:

‘This is one of the oldest and most interesting places in England, Green. I shall be here at least an hour – perhaps longer. I will ask Mr Chetwynd if you may stroll about the grounds.’

A kind old buffer, Green had thought indulgently, but terribly keen on what was called ‘uplift’. Couldn’t let one alone. And he had that extraordinary American reverence for anything that was hallowed by antiquity.

Certainly, this was a nice old place, though. He had looked up at it appreciatively. He’d seen pictures of it somewhere, he was sure. He wouldn’t mind having a stroll round as he’d been told to do.

It was well kept up, he noticed that. Who owned it? Some American chap? These Americans, they had all the money. He wondered who had owned it originally. Whoever it was must have been sick having to let it go.

He thought wistfully: ‘I wish I’d been born a toff. I’d like to own a place like this.’

He had wandered some way through the gardens. In the distance he had noticed a heap of ruins and amongst them two figures, one of which he recognized as being that of his employer. Funny old josser – always poking about ruins.

The sun had been setting – there had been a wonderful lurid sky and against it Abbots Puissants stood out in all its beauty.

Funny, the way you thought of things as having happened before! Just for a minute Green could have sworn that he had once stood just where he was standing now and seen the house outlined against a red sky. Could swear too, that he had felt just that same keen pang as of something that hurt. But it wanted something else – a woman with red hair like the sunset.

There had been a step behind him and he had started and turned. For a minute he had felt a vague pang of disappointment. For standing there was a young slender woman and her hair, escaping each side from under her hat, was golden, not red.

He had touched his cap respectfully.

A queer sort of lady, he thought. She had stared at him with every bit of colour draining slowly from her face. She looked absolutely terrified.

Then, with a sudden gasp, she turned and almost ran down the path.

It was then that he ejaculated:

‘Well, that’s a rum go.’

She must, he decided, be a bit queer in the head.

He resumed his aimless strolling.

Sebastian Levinne was in his office going into the details of a ticklish contract, when a telegram was brought to him. He opened it carelessly, for he received forty or fifty telegrams a day. After he had read it, he held it in his hand looking at it.

Then he crumpled it up, slipped it into his pocket and spoke to Lewis, his right-hand man.

‘Get on with this thing as best you can,’ he said curtly. ‘I’m called out of town.’

He took no heed of the protestations that arose, but left the room. He paused to tell his secretary to see to the cancelling of various appointments and then went home, packed a bag and took a taxi to Waterloo. There he unfolded the telegram and read it.

Please come at once if you can very urgent Jane Wilts Hotel Wiltsbury .

It was a proof of his confidence and respect for Jane that he never hesitated. He trusted Jane as he trusted no one else in the world. If Jane said a thing was urgent, it was urgent. He obeyed the summons without wasting a thought of regret on the necessary complications it would cause. For no one else in the world, be it said, would he have done that.

On arriving at Wiltsbury he drove straight to the hotel and asked for her. She had engaged a private room, and there she met him with outstretched hands.

‘Sebastian – my dear – you’ve been marvellously quick.’

‘I came at once.’ He slipped off his coat and threw it over the back of a chair. ‘What is it, Jane?’

‘It’s Vernon.’

Sebastian looked puzzled. ‘What about him?’

‘He’s not dead. I’ve seen him .’

Sebastian stared at her for a minute, then drew a chair to the table and sat down.

‘It’s not like you, Jane, but I think, for once in your life, you must have been mistaken.’

‘I wasn’t mistaken. It’s possible, I suppose, for the War Office to have made an error?’

‘Errors have been made more than once – but they’ve usually been contradicted fairly soon. It stands to reason that they must be. If Vernon’s alive, what’s he been doing all this time?’

She shook her head.

‘That I can’t say. But I’m as sure about its being Vernon as I am that it’s you here now.’

She spoke curtly, but very confidently.

He stared at her very hard, then nodded.

‘Tell me,’ he said.

Jane spoke quietly and composedly.

‘There’s an American here, a Mr Bleibner. I met him out in Serbia. We recognized each other in the street. He told me he was staying at the County Hotel and asked me to lunch today. I went. Afterwards it was raining. He wouldn’t hear of my walking back. His car was there and would take me. His car did take me. Sebastian, the chauffeur was Vernon – and he didn’t know me .’

Sebastian considered the matter. ‘You’re sure you weren’t deceived by some strong resemblance?’

‘Perfectly sure.’

‘Then why didn’t Vernon recognize you? He was pretending, I suppose.’

‘No, I don’t think so – in fact, I’m sure he wasn’t. He would be bound to give some sign – a start – something. He couldn’t have been expecting to see me. He couldn’t have controlled his first surprise. Besides, he looked – different.’

‘How different?’

Jane considered.

‘It’s hard to explain. Rather happy and jolly and – just faintly – like his mother.’

‘Extraordinary,’ said Sebastian. ‘I’m glad you sent for me. If it is Vernon – well, it’s going to be the devil of a business. Nell having married again and everything. We don’t want reporters coming down like wolves on the fold. I suppose there’ll have to be some publicity.’ He got up, walked up and down. ‘The first thing is to get hold of Bleibner.’

‘I telephoned to him, asking him to be here at six-thirty. I didn’t dare leave it, though I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to get here so soon. Bleibner will be here any minute.’

‘Good for you, Jane. We must hear what he’s got to say.’

There was a knock at the door and Mr Bleibner was announced. Jane rose to meet him.