A Second Chance (40 page)

‘You must have mislaid a few of them, old
man. These are dating back some time now. Accounts from the bar,
and the dining room—and your membership fee is well past due, I
see.’

‘Really? I can’t imagine how that got
missed. Yes, I’ll look into that tonight.’

‘That’s the way. Wouldn’t want to think you
weren’t going to pay, would we? We wouldn’t want to eject you, ha
ha!’

The man was becoming impertinent. Really, as
a member of the club Jimmy was more or less his employer. He had no
business taking that tone.

‘I should think not,’ Jimmy said sharply.
‘Not with my connections.’

Rather than appearing chastened, Ballard
looked amused. ‘Connections? My dear fellow, with the greatest
respect, I wouldn’t call them anything out of the ordinary.’

‘No? You wouldn’t call Sarah Millish out of
the ordinary?’ Jimmy snapped, his own words taking him by surprise.
He had not quite intended to mention Sarah by name. He had been
treading carefully since their last rather heated meeting the
previous month. He had made no further attempt to call on her,
aware that it might take some time for her to settle down after
having got herself in such a state.

The girl certainly had a nasty temper on
her. The way she had spoken to him! Her own father! It was almost
beyond bearing. Why the devil couldn’t she have inherited more of
Amy’s nature? It was a damned shame that Amy hadn’t stayed in
Auckland longer, and not only for the possibilities it might have
offered Jimmy. It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell Sarah
she really should have Amy to stay again, and soon: she could do
with her mother’s influence.

Well, the words were out now, and he had the
satisfaction of seeing that they had taken Ballard aback.

‘Miss Millish? May I ask what your
connection is with her?’

‘Shall we say… both business and personal,’
Jimmy said, affecting a lofty tone.

To his annoyance, Ballard looked sceptical.
‘Personal, eh? I won’t ask you to be indiscreet, then. I’d have
thought she was a little young for you, Taylor.’

‘I’m certainly not referring to anything
improper!’ Jimmy said, outraged at the suggestion.

‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ said Ballard,
though in rather too salacious a tone to appease Jimmy. ‘So what
did you mean by a business connection, then? Hmm?’

‘I mean that such trifling matters as the
odd bill I’ve run up here will soon be of no consequence,’ Jimmy
said, stung once again by Ballard’s superior manner. ‘I have
expectations of gaining access to considerable resources. Resources
I’m perfectly entitled to, but there are matters of some delicacy
involved.’

‘Are you implying that Miss Millish owes you
money?’ Mr Ballard asked, regarding Jimmy with rather more
respect.

Jimmy considered his words. ‘Yes, she most
certainly does,’ he said after a moment. ‘A substantial amount.’
After all, he reflected, there could hardly be a greater debt than
owing her very existence to him.

‘Well, that does put a different complexion
on things. And when are you expecting payment of this debt?’

‘Oh, quite soon now,’ Jimmy said airily.

‘Is there a particular date it’s due?’ Mr
Ballard probed. ‘I’d like to see your account with us settled
before too much longer, and if it’s waiting on this matter…’ He
turned a quizzical expression on Jimmy.

‘Well, it’s all somewhat delicate,’ Jimmy
said, trying not to sound as if he was floundering for the right
words. ‘So it may take a little longer yet. It’s not quite… it’s
not exactly in writing, as such. You might say it’s more a matter
of honour.’

Mr Ballard frowned. ‘Just a verbal
agreement, then? Hmm, that can be a ticklish business. One ends up
relying on the other party’s being honorable—which I’m sure Miss
Millish is,’ he added hastily. ‘If things have got a little
awkward, Taylor, I’d be more than happy to act as a go-between. I
flatter myself that I have certain skills when it comes to handling
negotiations.’

‘No, no, there’ll be no need for that. No,
just leave it in my hands. Miss Millish and I are on the verge of
getting everything sorted out. Goodness, is that the time?’ he
said, pretending concern as he glanced at the clock in one corner.
‘I need to be off home, we’re expecting guests this evening. Good
night to you, Ballard.’

He rose and left the office, and soon after
went out into the street to hail a cab. There was no chance of a
peaceful evening at the club with Ballard hovering about making a
nuisance of himself, so he might as well go home. It was
unfortunate that the guests he had referred to were entirely
fictitious; he would have to make do with Charlotte’s company.

*

Sarah was working in her study when Alice
informed her that a gentleman was in the hall. Sarah studied the
card the maid had brought in, puzzled as to what the man might
want. She knew that her father had belonged to this club, though
his visits to it had been rare. But she had no association with it
herself, and was not likely to, given that it excluded women.

‘You’d better show him in, Alice.’

Alice soon ushered in a rather red-faced man
with a large moustache. He was breathing heavily; Sarah suspected
that the walk uphill had been more vigorous exercise than he was
used to.

She extended her hand to be shaken by a
somewhat clammy one. ‘Ah, Miss Millish. Delighted,’ Mr Ballard
said, beaming at her. ‘I knew your late father, of course—sadly
missed—but I’ve never had the pleasure of calling on you till
now.’

‘And to what to I owe the honour of this
visit?’ Sarah asked, withdrawing her hand as soon as she politely
could.

‘Oh, the honour is all mine, I assure you.
But I decided to call just to see if I could be of use in certain
matters. I realise it must be very difficult for a young lady in
your position to keep on top of things.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Mr Ballard,’
Sarah said, quite aware that she was being patronised, but
mystified as to what the man might be referring. ‘I have no
connection at all with the Empire Club, as I’m sure you know.’

‘Ah, yes, we’re deprived of such delightful
company as yours. But I’m aware that you’re acquainted with one or
two of our more fortunate members—in a business sense, that is,’ he
added hastily. ‘And I learned recently of a certain involvement
with one particular member that seems to have become somewhat
confused. In such cases it can be useful for a third party to
become involved. That’s why I’m here to offer my assistance.’ He
sat back in his chair and smiled benignly.

Sarah thought rapidly, unpicking Ballard’s
words to find the sense that she was sure must be hidden there. The
man was somewhat pompous, but he was unlikely to be a fool.
Awareness dawned, and with it an anger that she kept tightly under
control.

‘Could I ask the name of the person to whom
you’re referring?’

‘Certainly, Miss Millish. I’m speaking of Mr
Taylor.’ He nodded knowingly. ‘And if for whatever reason you’d
prefer not to speak directly to him over this matter, I’m more than
willing to act as agent for both parties.’

‘I find myself at something of a
disadvantage, Mr Ballard. I don’t know the nature of the “matter”
to which you refer. I must ask you to be more precise.’

‘Ah, dear lady, I realise this is all rather
delicate. And I certainly don’t wish to probe into your personal
affairs.’

‘Oh, please have no compunction on that
score,’ Sarah said, aware that her voice had become sharp. ‘I’d
like to have the details of whatever is going on here.’

‘Well,’ Mr Ballard said, studying her
somewhat apprehensively, ‘I understand from Mr Taylor that a sum of
money is owed him. I gather there isn’t a formal contract as such,
but there was an understanding that funds would be forthcoming.
That’s certainly how Taylor seems to have seen it, and… well, to be
frank, Miss Millish, he appears to have found himself a little
short of ready money as a result. I get the impression that he’s
understandably somewhat reluctant to broach the subject with you,
so I thought I’d help matters along if I could, just to save any
awkwardness on either side.’

To save himself from the embarrassment of
having allowed a debt to be run up by an untrustworthy party would
be a more accurate statement, Sarah suspected. But that was Mr
Ballard’s problem, not hers. This was no struggling tradesman who
had been unlucky enough to fall into Mr Taylor’s path, and trusting
enough to believe him.

‘Unfortunately, Mr Ballard, you are under a
misapprehension,’ she said crisply. ‘Any debt owed by me to Mr
Taylor exists only in his own imagination. There is no contract,
verbal or otherwise. No agreement, no handshake, and certainly no
obligation on my part. Mr Taylor has simply taken it upon himself
to claim an association with me to further his own interests. I’m
sorry to say it’s not the first time he’s done such a thing, though
I believe it will be the last.’ She fixed Mr Ballard with a hard
gaze. ‘I value my good name, and I won’t allow it to be abused in
this way—not by anyone.’

She had the satisfaction of seeing his
composure slip. ‘I assure you, Miss Millish—’ he began, but Sarah
pressed on as if he had not spoken.

‘If Mr Taylor has incurred a debt with you,
I advise you to take whatever measures are at your disposal to
retrieve it, so long as such measures don’t involve insulting other
parties by implying less than honourable dealings. And I would
advise you to take care against repeating slander.’

‘Slander?’ he echoed nervously. ‘My dear
Miss Millish, I had no—’

‘Pray don’t trouble yourself further. May I
assume that you’ve spoken of this to no one other than Mr
Taylor?’

‘Oh, quite. I can assure you I’ve been
discreet.’

‘In that case I’m willing to let the matter
rest, regarding your part in it.’ She had frightened him enough,
Sarah decided. ‘In fact I thank you for bringing Mr Taylor’s
behaviour to my attention.’

Mr Ballard beamed in evident relief. ‘Only
too glad to have cleared things up. Please feel free to call on me
at any time if I can ever be of assistance.’

That, Sarah reflected, would be difficult,
given that she would not be permitted on the premises. But she
nodded graciously and allowed Mr Ballard to take his leave.

Knowing what she did of Taylor’s character,
there was no reason to be startled by Mr Ballard’s revelation. Nor,
now that she had had time to absorb the facts, would she allow
herself to waste energy on anger. Taylor was simply a problem to be
solved, and she meant to solve it once and for all. Fortunately,
she had taken certain steps against such an eventuality. That would
make matters more straightforward now.

There were two letters to be written. The
first was a short note to Mr Henry Kendall, directing him to call
on her at his earliest convenience. The note suggested that his
earliest convenience should be considered to be at or about ten
o’clock the following morning.

The other letter took more thought. Sarah
considered it for some time before writing a carefully-worded
invitation. For this, she used her personal notepaper rather than
the businesslike stationery she had used for Mr Kendall’s
message.

With both notes sealed, and despatched with
the gardener’s boy, Sarah sat back in her chair to consider the
finer details of what she was about to put into effect.

Sarah spent much of the following two days
in meetings with Mr Kendall. She satisfied herself that he
understood what was required, then left the details in his hands.
So she was alone in her study on the morning Charlotte Taylor came
to call.

It would not be a pleasant occasion, Sarah
knew. But she felt she owed Mrs Taylor this meeting. The blame for
her husband’s actions was not hers.

Sarah had Charlotte brought into her study,
but rather than shelter behind her desk she sat at a small table to
one side of the room. It was a spot where Amy had often sat,
reading or stitching, and Sarah felt herself heartened by the
memory. She invited Charlotte to take the chair beside hers, and
had the maid bring tea and dainty biscuits.

Charlotte was a picture of understated
elegance in her tailored costume of dark green wool, a cream silk
blouse frothy with lace visible under the jacket. She wore a
matching hat, her blonde hair making a striking effect against the
dark green.

They exchanged pointless remarks about the
weather as they drank their tea. Sarah was aware that Charlotte was
darting glances around the room; she suspected her visitor would
not be particularly impressed. The room was comfortable, and the
furniture of high quality, but it was functional rather than
luxurious.

She saw Charlotte’s eyes fall on Sarah’s
photograph of herself with Amy. ‘That’s the person who was staying
with you, isn’t it?’ Charlotte said when she realised she was being
observed. ‘Mrs Stewart, was it?’

‘Yes,’ said Sarah. ‘She’s returned to the
countryside for the moment. I must say I miss her.’ She took a
quick glance at the photograph to strengthen herself for what must
come next. ‘You’re probably wondering why I asked you to call, Mrs
Taylor.’

‘I’ll confess that’s so. We’re not well
acquainted, though we do move in similar circles.’

‘I’m afraid it’s not for a particularly
pleasant reason.’ Sarah saw the look of surprise in the other
woman’s eyes. She had rehearsed the words many times; that did not
seem to be making the process easier. ‘It’s regarding your
husband.’

Charlotte’s expression tightened. ‘Then it’s
my husband you should speak with.’

‘Unfortunately, this concerns you as well.
Your husband has behaved in a manner that—’

‘Miss Millish,’ Charlotte interrupted, ‘I
did not come here to listen to distasteful remarks. If you’ve been
incautious enough to place your reputation in jeopardy, I hardly
see that burdening me with the unpleasant details is the
appropriate course of action.’