Such is love (10 page)

Paula was exceedingly taken aback.

"Wh-what particular case?" she asked.

"The one you have in mind."

"I didn't say I had any case in mind."

"No, my dear. But one doesn't bother to go so carefully into theoretical cases. I suppose you've met someone very Q attractive in circumstances which your mother wouldn't think correct."

There was a profound silence.

"That was pretty smart of you," Paula said at last.

"Oh no." Gwyneth gave a rather sad little laugh. "Suppose you tell me."

"Well " Evidently Paula suddenly made up her

mind to talk, and the whole story came tumbling out. "It was when I was in Brussels—at school, you know. At least, not at school, of course, but during a week-end I spent with one of the other girfs. Her name was Andree—she was my special friend, and her people had a lovely place in the country. I used to be asked down there quite often., It was one afternoon on the river that we—^that we met him. We bumped into his boat. Nothing serious—and, anyway, we were quite near the bank—but we got talking and I

we offered to let him share our picnic tea " She paused I

and looked rather defiantly at Gwyneth.

Gwyneth smiled slightly.

"It doesn't sound a very terrible story yet," she said en-; couragingly.

"No, of course not. Only it is a lot more forthcoming; to do that sort of thing in France—Belgium, rather—thani it is in England. Andree was much more doubtful about it! than I was."

"Was he Belgian himself?"

"Oh no\ Enghsh."

"Then I presume he was less shocked than Andree."

Paula laughed.

*'He wasn't shocked at all."

"No? WeU, go on."

"I went down to Andree's place several week-ends after that and—we met each time."

"Oh. Not by chance every time, surely?"

"No. We arranged it."

"And Andree was there, too?'*

"Yes." There was a slight pause. "Except the last time.

persuaded Andree to let me go on the river with him alone. She didn't want me to. It wasn't that she was jealous or anything, but, of course, it isn't at all the right thing even now for a well-brought-up foreign girl to go out with a man alone. Andree thought it was the next thing to being a scarlet woman, I suppose."

"But you persuaded her?"

"Yes, I did." Paula sounded defiant again. "And I'm not sorry."

"No?" Gwyneth remembered that she had not been sorry about those many times with Terry—at least, not until afterwards when she found where they had been leading.

"And was that the end of it?" she asked presently.

"No. He was on the same plane when I came back to England."

That time Gwyneth's eyebrows did go up.

"Not by chance again, I take it?"

"No, of course not. I—told him when T was travelling, and he arranged to travel by the same plane. It was—marvellous."

"Then he is in England now?'*

"In London."

"I see." Gwyneth frowned. "Are you still seeing him?"

"No." Paula leant forward eagerly. "That's it—-that's why I wrote to Van. I didn't know you were going to turn out like this. I thought I'd have to get round Van."

"My dear girl! You didn't seriously suppose that Van

would assist you to meet someone secretly?"

I "Oh no, Gwyneth, not secretly. Openly. Don't you see,

jmy parents thmk Van's frightfully respectable and stern

land all that. And your being a Canon's daughter makes it

[even better "

5 Gwyneth experienced a moment's grim amusement at the idea of even her father being pressed into service in the smoothing out of Paula's love affairs.

"I thought," Paula went on, "that if you and Van would bring him along to see my people as a friend of yours, it would be quite all right. I can't have him just turn up at the house. Mother would want to know exactly how I met him—and I couldn't tell her flat lies."

"Couldn't you? Gh, I'm glad of that," Gwyneth said

rather dryly. "You mean you want us to tell your lies for you?" • .

"Oh no!" Paula seemed genuinely taken aback again, and Gwyneth saw that she had considerable difficulty in looking at anything from any point of view but her own. "I didn't mean that exactly."

^"Now look here, Paula " Gwyneth pushed aside her

plate and rested her arms on the table. "It's quite triie that I would like to be sympathetic and helpful—and, to tell the truth, I don't think Van would be wnsympathetic about anyone young having a rather better time than your parents might think necessary. But it isn't the slightest good your imagining that we should encourage clandestine meetings and half-truths to your people "

"But "

"Just a moment." Gwyneth put her hand firmly on Paula's. "I'm not going to do the heavy relative about the way you met this man. Maybe it wasn't the most discreet way of doing things, but a lot of perfectly good friendships haven't been any more conventionally made. But, without setting up to be faultless myself, I must say you were not very wise about the later steps."

"But, Gwyneth, it just happened like thatl"

"I thought you said it was arranged."

"Yes. But I mean I couldn't have seen him aiiy other way. They'd have had fifty fits at school if he'd turned up' and wanted, quite frankly, to take me out."

"I hope they would. It's the business of schools to be very particular in these matters."

"But don't you see it was a case of never seeing him again if I didn't do it that way—and Andree was there too."

"And it was so necessary to see him again after only one time?"

"Yes," Paula coloured, "it was. I liked him awfully and he felt the same about me."

Gwyneth glanced at the pretty, flushed face opposite. Van had said that was how it had been with him. ... It was so difficult to tell. . . .

There was a short pause, then Paula said with angry unhappiness: ^

"We're not getting anywhere, are we?"

"I'm sorry, dear, I was trying to think of a way of helping. You simply won't tell your mother the whole story?"

"I couldn't. She'd say 'How common'—and leave it at that. He'd never be asked near the place."

Gwyneth carefully refrained from commenting on that.

"Well, I'll tell you what I will do," she said slowly. "I'll mention to Van that you've met someone whom you want to bring home, and I'll see if Van will have him along to lunch at his club or something of the sort. I don't want to sound as though your Prince Charming has got to come up for inspection, but I can't take him only on your rather j prejudiced estimate, you know. If Van thinks well of him, I we'll have him and you to dinner together. And after that, I suppose your mother wouldn't mind having him call to see you or take you out."

"Gwyneth," Paula said solemnly, "you're an absolute angel, and, what's more, clever with it."

Gwyneth laughed and got up, pushing back her chair.

"Come along. It's high time we were going. Van will be home and wondering what has happened to us."

"Yes, yes, let's go now." Paula was evidently enchanted at having carried her point in one form or another. "Shall we tell Van this evening?" she asked eagerly as they got back into the car. "How shall we put it?"

"You'll leave that to me," Gwyneth informed her firmly. She had no mtention of allowing the whole thing to take on the proportions of a family conspiracy.

"As you Uke." Paula was apparently willing to trust her future to Gwyneth's judgment, and she made no move to return to the subject during the rapid drive home.

Van was already in and waiting for them.

"Oh, Van, I'm sorry!" Paula immediately took it upon herself to make the excuses. "Have we kept you waiting? I know we've been a long time, but Gwyneth and I have been getting to know each other. She's sweet!"

"I am glad you approve of my choice." Van kissed his wife, and carelessly returned his young cousin's effusive greeting. "I hope she found you bearable."

"Oh yes, we're great friends," Paula asserted. And, declaring she was flattered at the implication, Gwyneth allowed that to stand.

It was a charming, inconsequential sort of evening. Paula —perhaps because of her successful appeal to Gwyneth— was in very high spirits, and Van was in one of his rare and delightful social moods, when he could be both amusing and amused.

"It's the sort of evening when one feels everything must come right in the end," thought Gwyneth. "Even my little Toby might somehow come back to me. Not today or tomorrow, perhaps, but some day." And she wondered if Paula were feeling that everything must come right for her too.

They finally sent a very happy Paula home by car and took a taxi themselves.

"She's a nice child," Van remarked with unusual indulgence. "And pretty. It's a pity her parents are quite so stodgy and old-fashioned about her."

"Yes. I rather think she expects us to fill the roles of indulgent aunt and uncle as an antidote," Gwyneth said with a smile, to which Van replied rather unexpectedly;

"I don't know that I should mind that."

Gwyneth said nothing more as they drew up outside the flat, and Van got out and paid the driver. But when the front door had closed behind them and Van seemed inclined to smoke a last cigarette, she came and sat on the arm of his chair.

"Paula is very anxious for us to be nice, kind relations and do something special for her, Van."

"Of course." He regarded the tip of his lighted cigarette i with a dry smile. "I can recall few occasions when young Paula did not want someone to do something special for her. What is it this time?"

"It seems there's a very romantic young man. She met him a little unconventionally on a week-end visit to a school friend who lived just outside Brussels."

"Good lord! A foreigner?" inquired Van disgustedly,* in the best British tradition.

"No, no. An Englishman. She forgot to tell me any little detail like his name, I've just realized. But, anyway, it doesn't matter. The point is that she's very much taken with him and he's turned up now m England—more or less followed her here, I gather."

"I Should think that has agitated the Norbury end of the

axis, hasn't it?* Van unexpectedly put his head against her and, for a moment, Gwyneth forgot Paula's affairs. She put her arm round him and drew him close against her.

"Tired, Van?"

"Not when you do that." He was smiling slightly, and in that moment she was so happy that she wanted everyone else to be happy too—poor little Paula and everyone.

She put her cheek down against his dear, dark hair.

"Are you listening? Shall I go on?"

"What about? Oh, Paula, Yes, if you like."

"She's been seeing this man—or, rather, she did see him quite a lot in Belgium, without her people or the school knowing."

"Disgusting little intriguer," observed Van lazily.

"Oh no. Van! The child hasn't a scrap of real vice in her. Only it mustn't go on hke that. There's probably no harm in it, but the principle's all wrong. I've promised we will contrive to push him under her parents' notice in a perfectly creditable way."

"The deuce you have! How are you going to do that? And I wish you could know how adorably absurd you are, endeavouring to be wise and maternal towards an overconfident young woman who is only four or five years younger than you are yourself."

"I'm lots older in most ways."

"Are you, my dear? Well, tell me how you propose to make illicit romance acceptable to Norbury."

"Van, don't call it that."

He moved his head against her so that he could smile up at her.

"Is this a very serious matter?"

"Well, fairly serious. You wouldn't want any harm to come to Paula, would you?"

"Of course not. But, in my opinion, that young woman can look after herself remarkably well. Probably much better than you can, my self-possessed Uttle wife." And, with a quick movement he drew her down on to his knee, so that her head was resting against him this time.

It was so unlike Van to do anything like this, that again she was silent for sheer pleasure. These unexpected tendernesses were so sweet and strange. It was almost as though

she discovered all over again how much she loved him, and how hopeless life would be without him.

"Well, what is the next step in the "Save Paula" campaign?"

She laughed reluctantly.

"You must have this man to lunch with you at your club."

"On what pretext?"

"Don't be tiresome, Van. Any pretext, of course. You can make one up—or just say the truth, if you like. You'll have to ring up Paula and find out his name and whereabouts, and what ground you have in common. I don't know what he does for a living."

"Nothing, probably," Van said sceptically. "Young men who can rush back and forth across the Channel in pursuit of a pretty girl usually haven't enough to do."

"Well, maybe he's a free-lance of some sort. Anyway, give him the once-over, will you, Van dear?"

"If you like."

"And then, if he's all right, you might invite him along here to dinner when Paula's coming. After that, she can present him to her parents without having to go into unfortunate details about her first meeting."

Van dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"For the daughter of a highly-respectable Canon, my dear, you have an astonishing talent for domestic strategy."

"Oh, Van"—she looked troubled—"it sounds stupid and complicated when one goes into all these details—but it was a very harmless little meeting, really. Only unfortunately, her mother's particular brand of conventionality makes difficulties. Paula's a very headstrong girl "

"She certainly is."

"—And she has rather an idea of herself as one against the world, at the moment. Opposition will merely make her more obstinate and certain that she's being cheated out of a great romance."

"Yes. Silly little idiot," Van observed carelessly.

"Maybe. But you'd have been pretty difficult to deal with if you hadn't been allowed to go on seeing me,** Gwyneth reminded him with a smile.

"Quite a different matter," Van told her, smiling in his turn. But, after a moment, he added: "All right. I'll look