The Man in Possession (2 page)

Julia sighed.
‘
Neither, really. Thirtyish,
I’
d say. Tall, well dressed—
’

‘
You mean—collar an
’
tie an
’
all that?
’

She smiled. ‘Yes, but country clothes.
’

Andy gave a de
r
isive grunt.
‘
An office wallah, I expect. Somebody who knows nothing at all about boats or engines, somebody what
’
ll sit in the office all day, then come out
‘
ere expectin
’
we
’
ve performed miracles.
’

‘We
’
ll just have to wait and see, won
’
t we, Andy?
’
Julia said, thinking privately that the boy could well be right.

‘
What will you do, miss?
’
asked Frank Willis.

‘That I don
’
t know, Frank. I
’
ll have to think about it.
’

‘
Did he buy the house as well?
’
he asked, as she turned to go.

‘I didn
’
t wait to find out,
’
she told him over her shoulder.

The house had been for sale as it stood—furniture and all. Julia could not remember anyone coming to view the place. As David and his father had had no resident housekeeper, just a daily woman,
Mr.
Hargreaves had offered Julia the use of one of the houseboats when David had died. It was as warm and comfortable as a house. Main electricity and water were connected so that she could use an electric cooker and have a fire in each compartment—bedroom, sitting-room and galley. The walls and ceiling were insulated and she had thick-pile carpeting throughout. She had even a tiny bathroom and a small refrigerator.

Her using the houseboat as living quarters meant that it could not be let out on hire, naturally, and
Mr.
Hargreaves had refused to accept any rent from her. The fact that he had probably been losing anything from two to three hundred pounds a year had not appeared to worry him in the least. But it might worry the new owner. How soon could she expect him to visit his property? This afternoon?

She cooked a light lunch for herself, then went across to the office. There was little else she could do for the time being except carry on with her work and await developments. There were one or two letters to be answered, then she would continue with her job of going through the linen, examining for repair or replacement, the sheets, pillow cases, tablecloths, tea-towels and blankets which would be used on the hire-craft during the rapidly approaching season. The popularity of a Broads holiday increased year by year, bookings beginning earlier and finishing later. Last year they had had some as late as November—a houseboat letting even for Christmas—and bookings this year began in March.

Julia dealt with the correspondence, glancing at the door somewhat apprehensively every time she heard footsteps outside, thinking it might be the new owner. She couldn
’
t understand why she had not seen him before. Surely he had been to look over the boatyard before deciding to make a bid for either that or the house? He could have come while she had been in Wroxham or Norwich in search of supplies or something the workmen were waiting for, but none of them had seen anyone looking around, either, otherwise they would have said so. Living in the houseboat, she herself would have been here even on Sundays. But perhaps the man had been content with a list and description of the boats, sheds, wet docks, land area and chattels.

She posted the letters, made some necessary telephone calls, then went into the linen store. How many more times would she do this? she wondered. Did she really want to stay on, working for a stranger, someone who might have totally different ideas of running things? She had planned to make one or two changes herself, if she had been successful in buying the boatyard. She would like to have more sailing dinghies available for day hire, more two, three and four-berth yachts for holiday hire. There were far too many large cruisers on the Broads, Julia felt, their number ever-increasing, and too few sailing craft. The climate was mainly responsible, of course. A week of rain and squalls spent either getting wet through in the open well of a yacht or being forced to sit in the cabin was not ideal, to put it mildly. But Julia maintained that the design of some yachts was at fault. Naturally a vessel meant purely for sailing, with no power at all beyond the sails, was impossible to navigate under cover. The boom needed to swing free, the main sheet—the nautical term for the main rope which controlled the mainsail—needed space and access and the yachtsman often had to move about swiftly. This was the holiday for the dedicated yachtsman, the young and the tough, those who did not mind
‘
roughing it
,’
if necessary.

But for the auxiliary, or cruiser-yachts—those with an inboard engine as well as sail—Julia would like to see an entirely new design, so that when under power, with the sails furled, the holiday-maker could go along under cover. At present, when the well cover of a yacht was
in situ
it was impossible for the yachtsman to see where he was going. The term cruiser-yacht was a misnomer. Their crews still had to navigate out in the open—wonderful in fine weather, of course—while the cruisers proper had efficient awnings with windscreens, and hirers could be on the move in either fair weather or foul.

If she had been able to buy the business she would have set about designing one, had an expert to draw the plan for her and put Frank Willis to work on building it. He could do it. He was a boat-builder, not merely a maintenance man. He had helped David and his father to build the whole of the existing Wing fleet.

Another thing she would have done, her thoughts went on as she tried to decide whether or not a sheet would stand another season without some holiday-maker putting his foot through it, was gradually to replace these white cotton sheets with fitted nylon. Pillow cases, too. What a saving on laundry bills, and even her present task would be unneces
s
ary.

‘
Hello there. Deep in thought?
’

She swung round to see Max.
‘
Oh, hello—I didn
’
t hear you come in.
’

He sat on a pile of mattresses and grinned up at her.
‘
That was obvious. I suppose you weren
’
t by any possible, improbable chance thinking about me?
’

She shook her head.
‘
Sony. Something much more—mundane. About replacing these outdated things with nylon.
’

He screwed up his face.
‘
My dear girl, you must be mad! Think of the initial cost. They
’
d have to be specially made to fit the bunks. And you couldn
’
t just order one pair at a time, or any of that lark. You
’
d have to replace the whole lot at once. Most impractical.
’

‘
Never heard of bulk buying?
’
But she sighed. ‘The new man would no doubt agree with you.
’
There was a pause. ‘Did he—buy the house?
’

‘
He did—and at a give-away price. So what he lost on the roundabouts, he gained on the swings, so to speak.
’

‘
He intends living here, then,
’
she said gloomily.

‘
Looks like it. Were you hoping he
’
d leave you to it?
’

‘To manage the business? I
’
m not sure what I was hoping. I suppose it
was
in the back of my mind that he might possibly get a manager or something. I don
’
t suppose for a moment he
’
d let
me
run it, even if he didn
’
t want to manage the business himself. But what
’
s the good of talking? It looks as though he intends living here, and where I shall come in or what I shall do
I simply don
’
t know. By the way, I wonder what his name is?
’

‘Leighton
,’
Max said promptly.
‘
R. Leighton. I found out that much from the clerk. In fact, I
’
ve been finding out quite a few things about friend Leighton.
’

‘What sort of things?
’
she asked, wondering vaguely what the initial stood for. Robert? Ralph—or Richard, perhaps?

‘Well, one thing
’
s for sure,
’
said Max.
‘
He can
’
t be short of money. In fact, I should think he
’
s pretty well loaded.
’

‘
That was the impression I got. But what makes you say so, apart from the price he paid for Wingcraft?
’

Max sprawled out full length on the mattresses, his hands behind his head.

‘
Because, my love, he
’
s the only son of the managing director of the Melloid oil company, no less. Moreover, he was a director of the company himself—and those fellows get fabulous salaries, not to mention perks.
’

Julia frowned.
‘
Yes, I suppose they do. But if he has a job like that what on earth does he want with a boat-hire business?
’

‘As I see it, there are two possible—and probable—theories. One, he
’
s had a row with his father and has packed it in. Fathers can be regular cusses to work for, as I know only too well. Two, buying this business is just a whim—the kind that the rich do sometimes get. He
’
ll maybe hire a manager—people like him are more used to having women in the role of private secretaries than managers, and in any case, you couldn
’
t manage things without help. He
’
ll maybe hire a manager, keep you on for the office work, and just come down here for week-ends and holidays. How would that be
?’

Julia pulled a face and switched on the light against the gathering gloom of the place. She wasn
’
t sure she wanted to be
‘
kept on for the office work
’
.

‘You could be right,
’
she told Max. ‘On the other hand, you could be entirely wrong. The only thing to
do is wait and see. I don
’
t really know what I shall do yet. Probably go back home. Father can always use help in the orchards.
’

Max sat up.
‘
Go back home—to Kent?
’
he echoed in consternation.
‘
You can
’
t do that. It
’
s unthinkable. Oh, Julia, you wouldn
’
t be so cruel
!
’

She reached to a top shelf for the last pile of pillow cases.
‘
You
’
ll survive,
’
she told him mildly.

‘
I shan
’
t, you know.
’

Max stretched out his hand and pulled her towards
him
so suddenly, she lost her balance and sat down heavily beside him on the mattress, scattering the pillow cases in all directions.

‘
Max, what on earth—
’

‘I
’
ll show you whether I
’
ll survive or not,
’
he said, putting his arms about her and t
r
ying to kiss her.

She pushed against him and they toppled over backwards on to the mattresses. He held her fast and his lips found hers. She tried to free her arms, then suddenly the door opened. Max let her go and she sat up breathless, angry, and dishevelled, to see the new owner of Wingcraft standing there.

He stared at them in astonishment. ‘May I ask who you are—and why you are using my property for your own private—use?
’

Julia was on her feet, her face taut with anger and mingled humiliation. Max ran his fingers through his hair, and there was a smile of amusement on his face.

‘I just came to see Julia, that
’
s all, and we—er—got carried away. Who wouldn
’
t? But I
’
ll be off. Be seeing you, Julia,
’
and with a mocking salute he walked out.

Julia took a deep breath.
‘
I
’
m—sorry about that, Mr
.
—
’

‘My name
’
s Leighton. Didn
’
t I see you in the auction room this morning? Your boy-friend too?
’

‘
He
’
s not my boy-friend,
’
she retorted emphatically.

‘
No? That makes your conduct even worse
,’

‘
He
’
s a
friend,
Mr.
Leighton,
’
she said evenly.
‘
A far different thing from what I imagine you have in mind.
’

‘
Really?
’
he said coldly. His glance flicked to the pillow cases scattered on the floor.
‘
Do I take it you work here?
’

‘
Yes. I was going through the last few items of linen.
’
She bent to retrieve the pillow cases.

He waited until she straightened up again, then asked:

‘
As a matter of interest, why did you push up the bidding this morning?
’

‘I was bidding because I wanted to buy the business,’ she told him brusquely.

‘
You
wanted to buy it?
’
he asked incredulously. ‘But why?
’

‘
Why not?
’
she countered.

He gave her a puzzled look.
‘
It
’
s hardly a woman
’
s line of business, surely? Though I suppose there are things a woman can do. Office work, attending to the linen. I take it there
’
s a manager?
’

‘
There is not.
Mr.
Hargreaves only died a few weeks ago. I
’
ve been looking after things.
’

‘
Oh, I see,
’
he said slowly as though he thought that explained quite a lot.

‘
We have a maintenance and boatyard foreman, of course,
’
she told him.
‘
Would you like me to take you to see him or shall I find him for you and—
’

‘
No, I can go and find him myself and see what the workmen are doing. How much more of this linen have you to do?
’

‘
I
’
ve nearly finished, actually. Just these few,
’
she said, indicating the pillow cases.

‘
And there
’
s no urgent office work?
’

‘
Not really, but—
’

‘
In that case, you can go home as soon as the linen is finished. There
’
s no point in waiting until it
’
s nearly dark, the state the roads are in. I
’
ll see you in the office in the morning. At nine-thirty, sharp
.’

Her jaw tightened. Already he was speaking to her as if she were nothing more than an office girl.

‘
I
’
m usually in the office by nine o
’
clock,
Mr.
Leighton,
’
she answered stiffly.
‘
The post comes about that time in the winter, earlier in the summer, of course. And I
’
ve been in the habit of locking up the office at night so that I could get in in the mornings. However—
’

She broke off, sending the ball into his court, then waited to see what his answer would be.

He gave her a cool glance.
‘
Some of your habits might have to be broken, Miss—By the way, what
is
your name, apart from Julia?
’

‘Barclay
,’
she supplied, inwardly fuming.

‘Miss Barclay,
’
he continued.
‘
I will lock the office tonight and I shall be glad if you will report to me in the morning at the time I have already mentioned. If you arrive earlier than that, you can occupy yourself elsewhere.
’

He went out, closing the door behind him with a decisive little slam. Julia compressed her lips furiously. Obviously he was going to be impossible to work for. Simply impossible. She finished her job swiftly and took her coat from the hook behind the door. She crossed over to her houseboat, wishing with all her heart that spring was here. At times like these when she felt depressed or had a problem, she would take one of the dinghies out and go for a row or, if there was enough breeze, push off in one of the half-deckers for a sail. There was simply nothing like a spell on the river for soothing away small irritations, reducing others to manageable proportions and giving one the strength to endure what could not be cured. But the river was frozen solid enough for skating, and skating was something she had not learned to do.

The outside bell of the telephone rang noisily and automatically she crossed to the office to answer it. There
was no sign of
Mr.
Leighton and she presumed he had found Frank and the boys in the boathouse and repair shed. But as she opened the office door the telephone stopped ringing. Her new employer was answering it.

She murmured an apology and went out again, but she had not gone more than a couple of steps when the door opened again and he called after her.

‘It
’
s for you,
’
he said. ‘A personal call, I presume. Will you make it clear to that young man that you
work
here
?’

Not any longer than I can help
, she called out silently after his retreating back as he walked in the direction of the boathouse. It was only a small office, consisting merely of one room with a counter and one typist
’
s desk. An inner room housed portable radio and television sets, and did duty as an odds and ends room, but there was no office furniture in there.

She lifted the receiver to find it was Max at the other end.

‘
Hullo, Julia. How goes it?
’
he asked.

‘Not too good—thanks in no small measure to you,
’
she answered, still angry with him because of what he did in the storeroom.

‘
I
’
m sorry about that. Really I am.
’

‘
So you ought to be.
’

‘Well, how was I to know he was going to walk in at precisely that moment?
’

‘That
’
s not the point,
’
she told him. ‘What gave you the idea you could do what you did, anyhow?
’

‘
Oh, come off it, Julia. We
’
re not strangers, and surely I
’
m not all that repulsive? Let me take you out to dinner tonight to make up. I promise I won
’
t try to rough-house you again.
’

But Julia did not feel in the mood for being wined and dined.

‘Not tonight, Max, if you don
’
t mind. I want to think things out.
’

‘
What sort of things?
’
he queried.
‘
You weren
’
t really serious about going back home?
’

‘I might go for a little while, anyway. One thing I
am
sure about. Nothing would induce me to work for this man. Just nothing
!’