On wings of song (18 page)

'I suppose I could,' Caroline agreed. 'But I shall look in some time during the morning. There's something I have to settle.'

'With Mr Marshall?' Aunt Hilda looked curious, perhaps because of her niece's tone.

'With Mr Marshall,' Caroline agreed, and changed the subject.

Stmday was, predictably, a quieter day than

Saturday, but Miss Curtis called during the afternoon.

'I shall not stay long,' she explained to Aunt Hilda. 'But I just had to come in and congratulate dear Caroline once more.'

'Of course.' Aunt Hilda inclined her head with gracious understanding, already perfecting her role as close relative of the famous. And she left Caroline and her teacher together.

* Sophie was as thrilled as any of us,' Miss Curtis assured Caroline. 'Indeed, she was so delighted that I ventured to confess last night that I'd told you the truth some while ago. She forgave me on the spot and said she was sure that her godson wouldn't mind now.'

'He doesn't mind,' said Caroline tonelessly. *I told him myself.'

'Last night?' Miss Curtis looked most intrigued.

'No, no. Quite a long time ago.'

There was an odd little silence, then Miss Curtis said, 'It couldn't be a long time ago, dear. You didn't know yourself until quite recently.'

'No, that's true. It—seems a long time. Everything has changed so much.'

'Of course, of course,' Miss Curtis agreed sympathetically. 'It must seem as though your whole life has changed since last night. Well, of course it has.^

'Yes, it has all changed,' said Caroline in such an odd voice that her old teacher looked at her sharply and rose to go.

'You still need to rest, Caroline. Don't go to the office tomorrow or '

'I have to go. There's something I must settle,' replied Caroline just as she had to Aimt Hilda.

'Won't it wait?'

'No/ said Caroline. *It won't wait.'

And Miss Curtis, whose ear was sensitively attuned to the tones of the human voice, felt oddly perturbed as she took her leave.

According to Aunt Hilda, however, Caroline looked much more herself the next day. She even laughed quite gaily as she announced, 'I'm going in triumph to the bank on my way to the office, to deposit my famous cheque.'

'They'll be impressed,' declared Aunt Hilda. And impressed they were, for it is not every day that a customer wins three thousand pounds just by singing two arias. Indeed, one junior clerk actually asked for her autograph.

'So long as it's not on a cheque,' replied Caroline, and she left the bank smiling like a girl who had not a care in the world.

Dinah welcomed her with fresh congratulations and a dozen new questions, so that they talked for ten minutes or more before Dinah, recollecting the right order of things, exclaimed,

'Mr Marshall came in half an hour ago! I mustn't keep you gossiping. He probably wants to talk it all over with you himself.'

Caroline nodded, abstracted a slip of paper from her handbag and, crossing the passage to Ken Marshall's office, she knocked.

'Come in.'

He looked up as she entered and, inexplicably, it hurt her that his expression was unsure— almost wary.

'Hello!' He had recovered himself. 'Congratulations on your triumph, since I didn't get a chance to speak to you on the great evening. I

hardly expected to see you this morning. You'd earned the day off, I'd have thought.'

'But I had to see you about something.'

*Oh?—About what?'

For answer she put the sHp of paper on his desk in front of him and just stood there waiting.

He picked it up and after a moment she saw, with something hke horror, that it was shaking in his hands.

*What's this?' His voice was quite low and a little hoarse. Then he looked up at her, those bright grey eyes as cold as a winter's dawn.

*As you see ' it took a great effort to keep

her voice steady *—it's a blank cheque from me to you. I should be glad if you would fill it in for the amount you've spent on my training.'

There was quite a long pause. Then he said slowly, and still with his glance upon her, 'You heartless little jade!' and he tore the cheque across and then across again.

Caroline thought for a moment that he was going to fling the pieces at her, but instead he put them in a neat pile before him on his desk with hands that were still unsteady.

*You must understand——' she began more uncertainly than she had intended.

*I understand perfectly,' he told her. 'I imderstand that for the first time in my life I've made a fool of myself about a woman. A conceited, heartless girl who '

A knock on the door interrupted him and Dinah entered to announce brightly, 'Excuse me, Mr Marshall, but Miss Lucille Duparc is on the phone.'

'Who?' He looked at Dinah as though he had forgotten who she was.

'Lucille Duparc/ said Dinah more uncertainly as she realised that the moment was not exactly propitious. 'What shall I tell her?'

'Tell her/ said Kennedy Marshall slowly, 'to go to hell.'

'In those exact words, Mr Marshall?'

'In those exact words. And you can add for good measure that I no longer represent her.'

'All right,' said Dinah, and withdrew, her manner subtly suggesting that the task was not displeasing to her.

There was a long silence. Then Caroline sat down on the other side of the desk because her legs suddenly felt as though they were made of cotton wool.

'Ken,' she said huskily, then she cleared her throat and started again. 'Ken, what made you send such a message to Lucille? Have you— quarrelled with her or something?'

'Quarrelled?' He looked faintly puzzled. 'You don't quarrel with the Lucilles of this world. You just string along with them professionally speaking, taking care they don't contrive to mix pleasure with business. But it's totally unimportant. Why are we discussing her?'

She stared at him in dismayed silence and he went on with an impatient sigh, 'You'd better go, my dear. There isn't anything left for us to say to each other, is ftiere? If you want to write your

resignation now, I accept it. But ' suddenly

he swept the pieces of the cheque from his desk '—that I will never accept, in any circumstances whatever.'

'Why not?' She spoke in a whisper.

He got up and went to the window, where he

Stood Staring out, his back to her, so that she thought he was not going to give her any sort of reply. Then, still without turning, he said slowly in a voice she had never heard from him before,

* Something offered with love should never be rejected with anger. It's unforgivable. If the return has to be made it should at least be done with tenderness, not with bitterness.'

'Something—offered with—love?' she repeated still speaking barely above a whisper. 'Ken '

She went to him and put her arms round him from behind.

*Look at me!—^please look at me.' But he shook his head and, even when she put her cheek against his arm, he only stirred sharply as though in pain.

Suddenly she knew that something infinitely precious was slipping away from her with tragic speed, and she cried, 'What shall I do? What can I say?' Then, all pride dissolving in the desperate necessity of the moment, 'I love you. Ken. I've loved you for ages; at least, it seems like that. But when you got engaged to Lucille '

'When I what} Who told you that?'

'She did. I mean—she told Jeremy. She even showed him your ring '

He said something under his breath which she thought she had misheard, for K^n was not given to picturesque swearing. Then he turned her, in a grasp that hurt, and asked hoarsely, 'Is that true, what you said?'

'Of course it's true! Why should I make up anything about Lucille?'

'No—^not that! The bit about—loving me for ages.'

She nodded wordlessly, and then, in the interests of a strict truth, she said again rather forlornly, *It seems like ages.'

'Oh—darling! My silly little darling!' He kissed her, almost tentatively at first and then more passionately, until she flung her arms around his neck and returned his kisses with equal passion.

*How could you be such a little idiot as to believe such nonsense about me and Lucille?'

*How could I not believe it?' she replied with some spirit. 'You let Lucille take the place of Enid Mountjoy on the jury.'

*I had no choice.'

'But you are—were—^her agent. You said they consulted you.'

'They did—and I said she was engaged elsewhere. The ultimate in unprofessional conduct, incidentally, for which I'm ashamed. But I would do it again for you, my vengeful little love.' And smiling wryly, he stirred the pieces of torn cheque with his foot. 'I had no intention of helping her to scare you. They must have got hold of her by another channel.—What are you doing?'

For suddenly she was down on her knees, collecting the pieces of torn cheque.

'I'm putting them where they belong—in your wastepaper basket.'

'Not that piece!' He bent down and scooped up one fragment.

'What's that?' Caroline was half laughing, half anxious still.

'The bit with your signature on it, my darling, and I'm keeping it to show you belong to me.'

'But you can have my signature any time— anywhere.'

*On a contract?'

*Of course.'

'On a marriage register?'

'Of course.'

He went to the door then and called in that peremptory, slightly hectoring tone he could sometimes use, 'Dinah!'

'Yes, Mr Marshall.' Dinah came scuttling across, looking faintly anxious.

'We need you to witness—Oh, by the way, what did Lucille Duparc say in answer to my message?'

'She spoke in French, Mr Marshall, and I don't think,' Dinah added primly, 'I quite understood her.'

'Splendid.' He was already rummaging in a drawer for a contract form. 'I'm putting Caroline under contract to me for '

'Sir Oscar said no contracts without his permission,' stated Dinah firmly. 'Not even marriage contracts.'

'He must be psychic,' said Ken. 'But it's all right—I'll deal with him. You sign here. Miss Bagshot.' And, to the great satisfaction of Dinah, he kissed the side of Caroline's cheek as she bent down to sign.

'Now you witness that, Dinah.' He pushed the form towards her, while Caroline ran her hand tenderly but somehow possessively over the back of his neck.

'I've got an agent now,' she said dreamily. 'On Saturday someone phoned to ask who my agent was and I said I had none.'

'Oh?' Ken glanced at her enquiringly. 'Who phoned to ask that?'

*I didn't know the name. He was Italian, I think.—Oh, I remember it now, though I didn't know it.' As she repeated it she seemed to be standing in the hall at home, the receiver in her hand and desolation in her heart. But that was just a bad dream. Now she was awake with the dawn of a glorious future in front of her.

*What did you say that name was?' Suddenly Ken had come to the surface, with the expression of an agent instead of a lover.

Caroline repeated it, and he reached for the telephone, exclaiming, 'Great heavens! He's the most famous of all Italian film directors!'

She watched him, smiling indulgently, and presently she sat down on the arm of his chair and put her arm round him.

*Yes, indeed,' Ken was saying. 'Certainly I represent her. As a matter of fact, she's engaged to me. No, not only professionally. Literally. Just a moment while I make sure of that.' And, putting down the receiver, he drew his signet ring from his finger and put it on Caroline's left hand.

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