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Authors: Hilda Pressley

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Her treasured moments were over. He walked with her to the houseboat and they said goodnight. Celia

s light was out. Julia let herself in quietly and locked the door, feeling a little more at peace with herself. At least she had probably influenced him into not giving way to Celia about going back to London. Celia did not love him, Julia felt sure. At least, not the way he deserved to be loved. She shut her ears to the voice which told her that if Roger took a chance and put off making his decision about going back to London, this might result in Celia deciding to stay here with him and marrying him. She went to sleep with the feel of his arms about her, her head resting on his shoulder.

She woke up the following morning feeling happy too, until she heard Celia call out from the other room:

J-Julia, have you made any tea yet?

‘Won

t be a minute,

Julia answered, putting her feet to the floor with the realization that nothing was changed. Roger was still in love with Celia. His conversation last night had shown that.

She set the kettle on to boil and made morning tea, then took it in to Celia. The weather had changed during the night, and rain was now slanting down sharply, drumming monotonously on the roof of the houseboat.


You

re awake early this morning,

she told Celia.
‘It

s only half past seven.

Celia glanced at her bedside clock. ‘It isn

t, you know. It

s half past
eight.
You

re late.

Julia put her wrist watch to her ear. ‘Good heavens, so I am! I must have forgotten to wind my watch last night.

She handed Celia her tea and received a cool, speculative glance.

‘By the way, did you go out last night after I

d gone to bed?

‘Only for a breath of air.

‘I could have sworn I heard a man

s voice.

Julia temporized. It might be wisest not to mention her late-night
t
ê
te-
à
-t
ê
te
with Roger, if it could be avoided.

‘Really?

she answered. ‘But I

ll have to fly. I

d just hate it if Roger were in the office before me.

Later on in the morning, it occurred to her that perhaps Roger objected to Max coming to the boatyard because of Celia. He might not be as ignorant of their meetings as was supposed. The thought gave her little comfort.

The rain continued, on and off, for the rest of the week. Celia became more and more bored, and more and more irritable.

‘Imagine spending the rest of your life in a dump like this!

she deplored one afternoon during a particularly heavy shower.

‘You call green fields, an open sky and a clear flowing river a dump? Then what would you call the slums of London
?’
Julia asked her quietly.

‘I don

t happen to live in a slum,

Celia retorted.

I don

t know how you can stand it. I

d be bored to tears.

‘It

s having nothing to do which makes you bored,

Julia told her.

‘Well, I

m on holiday, aren

t I? Roger won

t leave his work to take me out—and heaven knows he has enough people working
for
him. Why he has to do
any,
I can

t imagine. If he wants to hang on to the place as an additional interest, I can

t see why he doesn

t hire a manager. After all, it

s only a couple of hours from London on the train, and not much more by road in a decent car. I shall have a word with him about it.

But towards the end of the week something happened which gave Roger plenty to worry about besides Celia.

Frank Willis came into the outer office looking extremely worried.

‘What

s the matter, Frank?

asked Julia.

‘It

s the new auxiliary, Miss Barclay. It

s not really turning out as it should. Either there

s something wrong with that design or my name

s not what it is.

‘But—but that

s impossible. I mean—

‘That

s what I thought, but we

re following it in every detail and—

He broke off. ‘Is
Mr.
Leighton in his office? If so, I

d better have a word with him, too.

Roger was in. Julia tapped on his door and went in, followed by Frank. Roger looked up from his desk in surprise.

‘What

s this—a deputation?

Julia came straight to the point.

It

s the new auxiliary,

she told him. ‘Something

s gone wrong with it. Frank will explain.

Roger invited them both to sit down and Frank told them what the trouble was.

‘It

s not turning out the right shape. As soon as the first of the frames went in, I was suspicious, but as the design had been drawn by an expert I thought I must be mistaken. But now we

re putting the planks in, I

m sure of it. The yacht just won

t be stable.

‘And you

re sure you

ve followed the measurements correctly?

asked Roger.


Absolutely. Everything has been double checked. The figures are clear enough.

Roger reached out for the telephone. ‘There

s only one thing to do. Get the designer here as soon as possible. In the meantime, find yourself some odd jobs around the yard.

Within the hour the designer was at the boatyard. Together he and Roger, accompanied by Julia, went into the boat-building shed. The designer looked at the skeleton of the new yacht, then walked over to the wall where his design was pinned up.

‘Do you mind if I take this into the light?

he asked.

‘Of course not.

The man removed the drawing pins and took the drawing out into the daylight. He studied it for a moment, then said emphatically:

‘This isn

t my drawing.

Frank stared at him. ‘But of course it

s your drawing. When
Mr.
Leighton gave it to me, I brought it straight into the shed and pinned it up.

The designer shook his head.

I don

t care what you say. I didn

t draw this. I

ve brought a photostat copy of the original with me in the car. I

ll get it and you can compare the figures.

‘We

d better go to my office,

Roger said gravely.

There was no doubt about it. When the two drawings were compared they were identical in every particular except the measurements. At first glance they looked the same, but the figures showing dimensions were different.

‘I don

t know whose drawing
that
is,

the designer said, indicating the one Frank and his team had been working from,

but it certainly isn

t mine.


In that case, somebody or other has taken the one you supplied and substituted the other. Now who, I wonder, could it be?

Roger said grimly.

 

CHAPTER
EIGHT

There was a silence in the office for a moment or two. No one, it seemed, was willing to speculate as to who was responsible. Frank Willis was the first to speak.

‘Well, whoever the culprit is, one thing is certain. We shall have to begin all over again, so I

d best go and get on with it.

He glanced at Roger.

I presume you want us to continue,
Mr.
Leighton?


Of course. I only hope we can get to the bottom of this business.

The designer rolled up the incorrect drawing.

Just to make sure you start with the right one,

he said,

I

ll leave you with the photostat. And if I were you, I

d keep it under lock and key.

‘You bet,

answered Frank, going to the door.

I shan

t let it out of my sight.

He went out and the designer turned to Roger.

Shall I take this or do you want me to leave it with you
?’

‘Leave it,

Roger answered.

I

ll keep it locked up in my desk until I decide what to do about this business.

When the designer had gone, Roger asked Julia:


Have you any idea as to who might have monkeyed about with the design?

Julia hesitated before answering. It would be a terrible thing to accuse anyone on mere suspicion.


I

d—rather not say, Roger, if you don

t mind. At least, not until I

ve had a little time to think.

He nodded.

Fair enough. I

ll do a spot of thinking, too, then we can find out if we come up with the same answers.


But what good will it do? I think I

d rather not know who was responsible. Couldn

t we just forget about it?

His expression became stony.

No, I don

t
think
we can. At least, I can

t. Until we find out, there

ll be a continual suspicion surrounding everybody. It might even be one of our own workmen, and if it is, I just don

t want the man working for me. It was done quite deliberately—and by someone who knew his way around as well as knowing what we were doing.

‘I realize that. That

s why—

The telephone rang and Roger lifted the receiver. The next moment his face became dark.

‘It

s for you,

he said. ‘Max Windham. You

d better take it in your own office.

Julia turned and went out. Why was it that nine times out of ten, when Max rang, Roger answered the telephone? But of course, that was nonsense and almost inevitable, no matter who rang, when they had only one line and an extension. She lifted the receiver of her own telephone and heard the click as Roger replaced his.

‘Hello, Max.

‘Ah, darling girl
,’
came his cheerful voice. ‘How are things?



Things

are not too good,

she answered sharply, nettled at being called

darling girl
.’

‘Oh?

he asked promptly. ‘What

s up?

But almost immediately, she had regretted answering him
t
he way she had.

‘I

m sorry, it isn

t something I can talk about.


Oh—mysterious. Well, what about a date?

Julia suppressed a sigh. She didn

t really want to see him, but she didn

t want an argument and she certainly did not want Max to come to the houseboat again.

‘Sorry, Max, I

m going to be tied up for the next few days.


Tied up where?

To your office desk?

he asked facetiously.

‘I have things to do, anyway. So if you wouldn

t mind—


What

s the matter?

he persisted.

Did I offend you the other evening?

‘No, of course you didn

t. I just don

t want to see you for a while, that

s all. And I must ring off now, Max.

Bye.

As soon as she replaced the receiver Roger came through and passed outside without saying a word. Feeling utterly wretched, Julia sat down at her desk. Life really was becoming impossible.
Who
had stolen that design and replaced it with a false one? Tony Sheldrake was the first person who came into her mind. But from what motive? Annoyance at being given the sack? But he couldn

t have acted so quickly. And
h
ow had the change-over been done? Frank would surely have noticed if the drawing had been missing at any time. She really couldn

t see, in all honesty, how Tony Sheldrake
could
have been responsible. He had never been left alone in the boatyard, and Frank had discouraged any boatyard hands not concerned with the boatbuilding from going into the shed.

In a vague sort of way, as she went about her work, she went through the names of all the men who worked for Wingcraft, or who had any business in the yard, mentally eliminating them as most unlikely to do a thing like deliberately sabotage Roger

s efforts.

But suddenly she was brought up with a jerk. Max. That Sunday morning when he had turned back to make a telephone call. Suppose he—

She rejected the idea, feeling ashamed of herself. It was true that he had tried to persuade herself to find various ways of ensuring that Roger did not succeed in the business. But that had been for her sake, so that Roger might become fed up and return to London, leaving her with another chance of becoming the owner herself. He had nothing to gain himself. Unlike Celia who—

This was terrible. She would be suspecting herself soon. That was the worst of trying to discover who had done a thing like this. Everybody was under suspicion. It would be far better to forget the whole incident. No great harm had been done. It had put the project about a week behind and probably wasted a little timber, that was all.

Roger went about grim-faced. She saw him talking to one or other of the men throughout the day and guessed he was questioning them about the affair. But when it came to Tony Sheldrake

s turn—whom Roger interviewed in the office, voices were raised very high indeed. It was impossible not to hear what they were saying.


So now I

m being accused of spiriting away your precious boat design and substituting a phoney one! Who did you blame for all these things before I came on the scene, I

d like to know?

At first Roger

s voice was quiet.

I

m
not
accusing you. As to whom we blamed before you came, you force me to say that we
had
no troubles until recently. We never had engine troubles, for instance. And who is to blame for those sort of things if not the man whose job it is?


And because of a few lousy breakdowns I have to take the rap for everything? That

s rich! Thank heaven I

m leaving tonight, that

s all I can say
!’


But for the generosity of Miss Barclay you would have left weeks ago,

Roger answered.

What I would like to know is—where were you, really, before you came here? And why did you choose this particular boatyard?

Julia was about to go outside. This was tantamount to eavesdropping. But Sheldrake

s next words arrested her.


The generosity of Miss Barclay, indeed! Why don

t you ask her if she knows anything about the yacht design? She

s got the most to gain if you get so fed up that you quit, if all I hear is true.

Now Roger

s voice was thunderous.

Get out of here, Sheldrake! Get out of here before I throw you out, and don

t let me see you on these premises again. Your
cards and your money will be posted to you. And don

t be surprised if the police come knocking at your door
!’

Sheldrake attempted to say something else, but the next moment the door was flung open by Roger.

‘Out
!’
he roared,

before I pick up the phone and send for the police to have you arrested!

Sheldrake gave him a venomous look and glared at Julia as he stamped out.

Roger drew in an angry, tight-lipped breath.

And how much of that did you hear
?’
he demanded of Julia.

‘I

m sorry. All of it. I was going to go outside, but—

‘How I kept my hands off the man I

ll never know. Get his cards out and make out a cheque for a week

s wages for him. I

ll sign it. And send it by registered post.

He stamped out, and as she was looking in the filing cabinet for the man

s insurance cards Julia saw Roger talking to Celia. What Sheldrake had said about herself was a terrible thing. Surely Roger had not taken the man seriously? It could so easily have been true. At least, some men might have thought so. He had made no effort to reassure her. She would have to ask him for his opinion.

But there was no opportunity that day of asking Roger anything. He and Celia went out sometime during
the
afternoon and did not return until quite late.


Can I get you a drink?

Julia asked her. ‘A cup of tea perhaps?

She had already learned that Celia did not like milky drinks. To her surprise Celia nodded.


Yes, please,

she answered, and sat down. There was a brief silence while Julia switched on the kettle, then Celia announced:

I

m going back home on Sunday. Roger

s driving me, of course, and you might be interested to hear that I

ve promised to marry him.

Everything within Julia tightened. ‘Oh. Well, congratulations,

she answered stiffly, then forced herself to ask:

Does that mean that Roger has agreed to go back to London to live?

Celia nodded and smiled. ‘This last upset about the design for the new yachts was the last straw. But I wouldn

t mention it if I were you. He hates being forestalled. He

ll tell you himself when he gets around to it. What he

s going to do is put a really good man in charge. A manager, in other words. Then we shall come down here for week-ends and so on. So you see, I

ve won, after all. Roger wanted to come here for our honeymoon. I ask you! He

s got some crazy notion of wanting to see the first of the new yachts finished. But a honeymoon here is out of the question. So we had to compromise, and the best that can be managed is a few days in Paris or somewhere, then a longer holiday, a sort of second honeymoon in October, maybe a winter cruise.


You

re—planning to get married quite soon, then?

‘The sooner the better, so Roger says, and I agree with him. I shan

t be working for the Melloid Oil Company any more, of course. But I expect I shall have to work out my notice. The old man—Roger

s father—will insist upon it. He

s a perfect stinker to work for. I

ve only stuck it for as long as I have for Roger

s sake.

Julia did not comment. She excused herself and went into the small bathroom to have a shower and prepare for bed. For a little while a sort of mental defence mechanism made her think of all kinds of trivial things, things which had nothing to do with Roger, or at least, no bearing on what Celia had just told her. They were concerned with things like the weather, hoping it would be a fine day for tomorrow

s change-over. There was nothing worse than a rainy Saturday. Naturally, the women who cleaned out the boats ready for the new hirers did not like coming and going through the rain—and after a wet week, the boats would be in a bad enough state as it was. Everything was made more difficult, and the new people arriving viewed the weather with a great deal of gloom, anxiety and apprehension.

And so until she finally lay down to sleep she thought of anything and everything except the subject closest to her heart. But even then her brain did not seem to function properly. She knew only one thing. Roger was going to marry Celia. He was in love with her.

The weather the following day was neither wet nor fine. It was cool, blustery and showery with now and then a sunny interval. With Tony Sheldrake gone, they were a hand short and his work was shared between Roger and Bob Winters, leaving the other engineer to continue working on the new craft, after all. Julia dealt with the business of clean linen for the craft, interviewed new arrivals, answered the telephone, handed out lifejackets and television sets, and when the need arose gave a helping hand to a novice. She avoided contact with Roger as much as possible, and he appeared to be avoiding her, too. They barely exchanged a word with each other all day. But when eventually the last of the boats had been sent on their way, he came into Julia

s office.

‘I
understand Celia told you I

m driving her home tomorrow?


Yes,

she answered briefly.

‘I
have one or two things to attend to, so I shall stay over until Monday. I

ve asked Celia to be ready at nine
-
thirty in the morning. Would you mind seeing that she

s up in time and has some breakfast
?’


Of course.

Had Celia been complaining about having no breakfast
?’
At least,

she amended,

I

ll
try
to get her to eat something. She doesn

t eat much breakfast.

‘I
know, but going on a journey is different, and I don

t want to have to make too many stops. One for lunch will be sufficient if we can find somewhere.

Julia suggested Baldock, and he thanked her, then went out. Celia spent the evening with him in the house, and Julia a lonely one in the houseboat. For the first time, while she was eating her solitary meal, she tried to think rationally, decide what to do. If Roger married Celia before the season was over and they spent the rest of the summer here as man and wife, even if only at week-ends, then it would be impossible for herself to stay here. If he did not tell her quite soon what his plans were, she would simply have to ask him. She must talk to him also about the switch of the drawing for the new yachts. She felt certain that she was under suspicion, otherwise why had he been avoiding her all day? He had not said whether he was pursuing his enquiries or calling in the police or anything. It hurt her terribly to think that he was giving even a second thought to the idea that she would do anything to harm him, or considered her remotely capable of such a mean action. As soon as he came back from London she must have a talk with him, she decided. If he were going to take on a manager eventually, there was no reason why he should not begin to advertise almost immediately, and as soon as he found someone she could leave.

For a little while she found her loneliness and unhappiness almost unbearable. She went outside, feeling like making her escape then and there. Why hadn

t she done something about getting another car? She must. She would need one soon anyway if she were going home. She hated travelling long distances by train.

Frank Willis was still in die boat-building shed. Feeling that if she didn

t talk to someone she would go crazy, she opened the door.

He looked up as she entered.

How

s it going now, Frank?

she asked.


Fine now, miss, but I

m not taking any chances. In future this drawing goes with me when I leave the boatyard.

‘I—suppose that

s a good idea, but you don

t think it

s rather like bolting the door after the horse has gone
?’
He glanced at her sharply.

What do you mean by that, Miss Barclay?


Why, nothing,

she answered quickly.

It

s just a saying. All the same, I can

t think that any of the men we

ve got now—

She broke off in some confusion. She was as good as accusing Tony Sheldrake to Frank. It was all wrong.

But he took her up. ‘You

re saying in so many words that Sheldrake knew something about it, aren

t you?

‘Well, I—

‘If you didn

t trust him I wonder you took him on,

he said sharply.

Julia

s eyes widened. Frank Willis had never spoken to her that way before. Never. Deciding not to continue the discussion, she went out. Already, it seemed, the business of the drawing was causing rifts between people. She had the horrible feeling just now that Frank was in effect blaming her. Her decision to leave as soon as possible was strengthened.

Celia did not stay late with Roger. Julia supposed he had suggested an early night because of making a good start in the morning.

‘Would you like me to help you pack tonight?

Julia asked her. ‘It would save an awful lot of time in the morning.

But Celia refused. ‘I can

t think why Roger wants to make such an early start. I don

t like having my clothes packed all night. I shall do it in the morning. You can help me then if you like—and he will just have to wait until I

m ready. Roger can be very domineering, and when he

s domineering he

s a bore.

Julia sighed worriedly. She couldn

t see how they were possibly going to be happy if Celia kept up this kind of behaviour.

‘I—fail to see how you could ever think of Roger as a bore,

she told the other girl.

Celia laughed shortly. ‘You need to take off those rose-coloured spectacles of yours. It

s far better to marry a man knowing his faults than to imagine he

s perfect and discover all of them afterwards.

‘I suppose so.

It sounded logical, but Julia was not convinced. She did not want to continue the conversation however, so she said no more. Later, she thought to herself that though she might often be angry with Roger, she would never, never find him boring.

She set her alarm so that she would make sure of not oversleeping, and after some tossing about, fell into an uneasy sleep.

Celia did not keep Roger waiting very long the following morning after all, and with her departure Julia heaved a sigh of relief. It was very nice indeed to have the place to herself. She decided that a degree of loneliness was preferable to the wrong kind of company. In any case she had still had times of loneliness even when Celia had been here. Loneliness was not the same thing as being alone.

Frank Willis and his team had decided to work that Sunday until about four o

clock. One of them promised to keep an eye on the boatyard in general, so when she had put her own clothes back in the small wardrobe, and the houseboat was looking more normal, Julia took the van out with the idea of calling at a garage she knew which always had one or two second-hand cars for sale. There were several in her price range standing in the garage yard, and after she had had a trial run in them, she chose one in pale grey with wine-coloured upholstery.

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