Hell Or High Water

Jarret frowned, resting both elbows on the table and linking his fingers together. ‘It’s this,’ he said slowly, andeven Margot was watching him with something akin to curiosity. ‘You say you don’t want to leave King’s Green until after—your daughter has got married?’

‘Yes?’

‘And I’ve already explained that I want to get out of London right away.’

‘Yes?’

The tension around the table was almost tangible, Helen thought imaginatively, herself steeled for whatever was coming next. Margot had put down her glass and was playing with its stem, a sure sign of nervous anticipation, while Mrs Chase was pressing her lips together, endeavouring to contain her evident impatience.

However, Mrs Hetherington’s arrival with the coffee prevented Jarret from continuing, and they all had to wait, chafing under the restraint, while the housekeeper served each of them. Then, just as Jarret was about to begin again, Margot chose to forestall him.

‘You’re not suggesting you become a lodger here, are you, darling?’ she protested in scornful tones, and the atmosphere splintered like so many shards of crystal.

Helen’s stomach churned as Jarret subjected Margot to the kind of contemptuous appraisal that was both pitying and malevolent. Margot sought refuge in her wine, her jerking shoulders revealing the indignant remorse she was trying hard to hide, while he expelled his breath on a long sigh of resignation.

‘As usual, Margot has jumped to conclusions,’ he said, making an apologetic gesture. ‘Only in this instance there is a shred of truth in what she’s saying.’

He paused, and Helen sensed he was looking at her now, but she refused to lift her eyes. Margot had been right then, he was actually suggesting he might share King’s Green with them! How dare he?

‘Before you make the same mistake as Margot, let me explain what I had in mind.’ He produced his cheroots, and after putting one between his teeth, he went on: ‘It seems to me we might both benefit from the scheme I have to put to you. You want to stay, and I need a place to work. I also need to be sure that leaving London is right for me.’ He hesitated a moment before continuing: ‘What I’m suggestingis that we do share the house—but only partly. All I need is the library and a bedroom. My meals could be served to me in the library, and to all intents and purposes the house would still be your own. However, for that—service, what I am prepared to offer is that I’ll make myself responsible for all financial matters pertaining to the estate in that time, and in addition, perhaps we could come to some private settlement regarding the extent of the inconvenience caused.’

Helen was shocked, but her mother was stunned, and Margot looked positively green.

‘You can’t be serious!’ she exclaimed, plucking at his sleeve in utter disbelief, and even Mrs Chase uttered a short laugh, as if to relieve the incredulity she herself was feeling.

‘You’re not serious, are you, Mr Manning?’ she exclaimed, a worried smile coming and going on her plump features. ‘I mean—why, that would be far too much for anyone to—to—consider.’

‘Why?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I can afford it.’ His gaze flicked Helen’s unguarded face in scornful dismissal. ‘And if, at the end of the summer, I do decide to buy, we can take it from there.’ He shrugged. ‘Believe me, I’ll get as much out of it as you will. It gives me all the advantages of the place, without any commitment whatsoever.’

He was right—Helen could see that. But she was sickened at the thought. To have Jarret Manning in the house all summer long, to know that he was always there, always in the background. It was almost worse than having to leave the house immediately.

But naturally Mrs Chase did not see it like that. ‘You really mean it?’ she said shaking her dark head, and Jarret nodded:

‘I really mean it.’

‘Well, I think it’s a ridiculous idea!’ Margot was clearly not at all suited by these unexpected arrangements. No doubt she had expected Jarret to have the place to himself, thought Helen cynically, her lips tightening at the images this evoked. ‘How much isolation do you think you’ll get here, with the house constantly in use, and visitors coming and going?’

‘We don’t get many visitors these days, Margot,’ Mrs Chase put in at this point. ‘Mostly there’s just Helen and myself, and Charles, of course, when he’s not at the stables.’

‘Charles?’

Jarret looked questioningly at Helen’s mother, and she quickly explained. ‘Charles Connaught is Helen’s fiancé. His father owns the Connaught stables at Ketchley. Charles works with him, and they’ve produced some excellent mounts this winter.’

‘I see.’ Jarret’s eyes drooped over Helen’s face again, as he acknowledged this information, and quickly averting her gaze, she wondered what he was thinking. She doubted that Charles would have much in common with Jarret Manning, and dreaded his reactions if her mother chose to fall in with Jarret’s suggestions.

‘But it’s not the same, is it?’ Margot persisted, still pursuing her theme of isolation. ‘I mean, you’d be interrupted for meals, or someone could barge in on you …’