There Will Come A Stranger (2 page)

Lost in her singing and her dreams, she did not hear light footsteps cross the hall. The elder sister, following the sound of singing to its source, stood a moment undetected in the open doorway of the kitchen.

So Vivian saw again the little sister she had last seen as a schoolgirl: saw her wistful mouth, her dreaming eyes, the tired droop of her slender shoulders. Saw the pile of ironing, and the small deft hands smoothing into renewed crispness a white overall that was too large to be Valerie
’
s own. And vague suspicions began to stir, nebulous as a mist, down in the background of her mind. But before they could take any definite shape
Valerie looked up and saw her, and an instant later they were hugging one another, half laughing and half crying.

“You
’
re
just
the same!”

“You too! Except your hair—I like it—I was
so
afraid you would be different, with a new American voice! Oh, but I
do
wish I
’
d been ready with a welcome for you! Only Harold was so sure you wouldn
’
t get here till the five o
’
clock
train—”

“I meant to come by that one, but I couldn
’
t wait to see you! I got up at crack of dawn and
caught the first train—”

“If I
’
d known I would have got up earlier to have things done. I
’
d meant to have the work all finished, and flowers in your room, and everything
looking lovely for you—”

“I
’
d have hated you to get up earlier on my account! And it all looks wonderful. It
’
s bliss to be at home again! And I
’
d be miserable if you were to treat me like a Polite Visitor and be all spick and span!”

“I won
’
t, I promise you!” Valerie assured her. Laughingly, they went to take her cases to her room.

When Vivian had changed that evening from her warm suit into a housecoat of coral-coloured velvet, she went down to join the others. Valerie had lit a fire in the big room where the family foregathered on occasions such as this, although it seemed that as a rule her brothers and their wives withdrew each to their own sitting-room after the evening meal.

She went in. Harold and Robert and the sisters
-
in-law whom she had met for the first time an hour ago were sipping sherry:

During the years that she had been away her brothers, always much alike, had grown still more so. Both were of medium height and build and colouring, easy-going and good-natured, lacking both imagination and perception: two typical young provincial business men, who at the weekends played a round of golf and did a spot of gardening, read the sporting page before the leading article, took a mild interest in local government, and sometimes talked of standing for election to the Borough Council. Vivian thought how odd it was that they, so much alike both physically and in temperament, should have married two girls so different in appearance and also—unless she had been much mistaken in her first impressions of them—in interests and outlook. Already she had gathered, for instance, that Monica was scornful of Janet
’
s neglect to tone down her Cox
’
s orange pippin complexion by such aids as foundation cream and powder, and had more than a suspicion that Janet disapproved of Monica
’
s skilful use of lipstick,
eye shadow
, and mascara.

All four pairs of eyes were fixed on her gay, luxurious housecoat as she came in: Janet
’
s with disapproval, Monica
’
s with envy, her brothers
’
with frank admiration.

Robert, who had been standing before the fire, hands in his pockets, jacket raised to toast himself, made way for her. “Come and get warm!
”

Harold put down the evening paper. “Have some sherry, Vivian?
”

“Thank you—I
’
d love some!
”
Then, looking round, she hesitated. “Where
’
s Valerie?
”

Monica said that she was getting supper.

“Oh
...
Then I think I
’
ll go and lend a helping hand. No, thanks, Hal—no sherry at the moment.
”

When she had gone Monica, spreading her white, narrow hands the better to admire the crimson varnish gleaming on her nails, remarked to no one in particular, “I do hope Vivian isn
’
t going to make Valerie unsettled!
”

The others looked at her inquiringly. Harold said, “Why—how d
’
you
mean?
”

“Putting notions in her head about being given
‘
a helping hand
.
’
It
’
s Valerie
’
s job to run the house. She
’
s paid for it.
I
don
’
t expect my clients to help me with their make-up when I
’
ve given them a facial!”

Janet joined in. “No—and I don
’
t expect my patients to help
me
with their massage!”

Robert remarked to no one in particular, “A real good-looker, Vivian!”

“Always was,” said Harold. “You would notice her in any crowd. Got personality as well as looks.”

Monica, in her sweetest voice, more saccharine than honeyed, said, “Oh, yes—she
’
s
very
striking
—
if you happen to admire that type! It
’
s high time she began to use a hormone cream, though
—
she has the kind of skin that ages early. I wonder how long she intends to stay?”

Harold reminded her, “Vivian owns a quarter of this house and its contents. It is her home as much as ours.”

Janet muttered that if she meant to stay in it for more than a few days it was to be hoped she
’
d stump up her share of the expenses.

In the kitchen Vivian found her sister creaming potatoes.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, thanks—you
’
ve helped too much already. On your first day at home, too! You
do
look
nice!” Her own frock was of fuchsia-coloured wool. She flushed up as she saw Vivian eyeing it, and said defensively, “I know it doesn
’
t suit me! But it was nearly as good as new when Monica gave it to me. And beggars can
’
t be choosers!”

Vivian said, “I daresay it was becoming to Monica
’
s dark hair.” Then, looking at the quantity of washing airing on screens and pulleys, ironed by herself that afternoon while Valerie began preparing what she called “a fatted calf to welcome you!” she changed the subject.

“Valerie, d
’
you always have to tackle such an amount of washing?
”

Valerie, pouring sauce over the cauliflower, nodded. “Yes. The laundry
’
s so expensive—I could never manage it out of the housekeeping allowance they give me. But thank goodness Betts and Butterworths have started supplying all the staff in Monica
’
s department with overalls, so I don
’
t have to do hers now. And it
’
s not been quite so hard since they gave me a washing machine at Christmas.
”

“I suppose they pay you well for all you do?
”

“They give me an allowance, as Daddy did.
”

Bluntly Vivian asked “How much?
”
and opened her eyes wide when Valerie told her. No wonder she was glad of Monica
’
s cast-off dress, unbecoming though it was! Their father had left Hawthorn Lodge between the four of them in equal shares, but all his little capital was locked up in his business, which now belonged to Harold and Robert. Valerie had nothing of her own.

Vivian said, “But they would have to pay about three times that amount to someone who came in for just a few hours daily
—and
send the washing to the laundry!
”

“Would they? But they let me make my home with them—and it
’
s not as though I had been trained for anything—I wouldn
’
t find it easy to get a decently paid job!
”

Vivian
thought that was beside the point, but with an effort made no comment.

Presently she realized her younger sister had become a remarkably good cook. The cream of vegetable soup she served with croutons of fried bread was smooth and velvety and admirably flavoured. It was followed by a fricassee of chicken made with a delicious sauce, accompanied by cauliflower and potatoes creamed till they were light and fluffy. Everything was piping hot, the plates included. Vivian was amazed when Monica
said reproachfully, “No salad, Valerie?”

Valerie flushed. “
I
’
m sorry—I forgot it, in the excitement of Vivian coming sooner than I had expected! And when I remembered it was late
—
I didn
’
t want to go out. I thought you wouldn
’
t mind this once, as we
’
re having three courses. And there
’
s plenty of cauliflower.”

Janet chimed in.
“
Nothing
takes the place of salad! Fresh raw vegetables at least once a day are an essential part of everybody
’
s diet, as I
’
ve told you time and again!” She turned to Vivian. “I
’
m sure that you insist upon a daily salad, too? Americans are so diet-conscious—far ahead of us in that respect!”

Furious on Valerie
’
s account, Vivian said pleasantly, “Oh, I don
’
t worry about what I eat
—
particularly when it
’
s a delicious meal like this!” Deliberately eyeing Janet
’
s solid waist, then focusing her gaze upon a spot, carefully camouflaged, on Monica
’
s chin, she added blandly, “But then I
’
m lucky. I never have to worry about growing fat, or getting pimples!”—and felt that Valerie had been avenged.

Lemon
soufflé
, sweet and sharp, and light as foam, ended the meal. Afterwards, they gathered round the fire, and Valerie brought excellent coffee. When everyone had finished, Valerie rose to take their cups and unobtrusively disappeared. Monica, very much the elder brother
’
s wife, said, “Would you like to play canasta, Vivian?”

Janet, who disliked canasta, said, “She must be tired. I
’
m sure she
’
d rather sit and talk?”

Vivian incredulously realized that all of them were taking it as a matter of course that Valerie should clear away and wash up by herself—and that this was their usual procedure of an evening! The indignation that had been simmering in her boiled up into anger, but she managed to conceal it.

“Oh, but I
’
m
‘
family
’
! You mustn
’
t change your usual routine on my account!” she said. “How do you usually organize the washing up—week about, in pairs, or all together?”—then, not waiting for an answer, and pretending not to notice their surprised expressions, “Let
’
s do it all together, anyway! Then it will be done in no time. Hal and Robert, if you
’
ll lay the table ready for to-morrow, the female staff can share the washing up. Lend me an apron somebody?”

She knew they all thought she was being bossy, but she didn
’
t care. Slipping a hand through Monica
’
s arm and taking Janet by the other, she marched them to the kitchen in the friendliest fashion, keeping up a cheerful patter of talk so that Valerie, already at the sink, could make no protest. But as she took the dish mop from her startled sister
’
s hand her mind was working fast and—literally—furiously.

With every hour she had been here it had become-more obvious to her that Valerie had been turned into a second Cinderella. Not that Monica and Janet in the least resembled the ugly sisters in the fairy tale, and probably they had the kindest of intentions towards their husbands
’
younger sister. But we all have faults, thought Vivian, and most of us are selfish. And Hal and Robert never did have much imagination, bless them! And probably they all take everything that Valerie does as a matter of course, just as they were going to do about the washing up. So I suppose it
’
s up to me to play the part of fairy godmother. But how
...
?