"JILL DOESN'T COUNT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 22 November 1940, Page 10

"JILL DOESN'T COUNT"

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

Phyllis Hambledon.

(Author of “Youth Takes the Helm.”)

CHAPTER 11. (Continued >. They were inside the door now, in the little square blue and white hall. Suddenly, to Oliver’s surprise, Jill kissed him. He felt the soft- touch of her lips upon his cheek. He was surprised touched, delighted; he gave her a boyish hug. She was a good kid, Jill. No doubt that kiss meant that, in spite of everything, in spite of the last ghastly year, she welcomed him as a brother-in-ltew. That kiss had said more than words could say. It had her welcome, sympathy, affection in it. Oh, yes, the world was going to be all right again. “Viva?” he enquired, still with his arm round Jill’s waist.

“She’s expecting you, too, but she can’t see you for a minute or two. There’s a press photographer taking “stills” of her. She’s got the lead m Freyne’s new show, Oliver. Isn t ihat perfectly marvellous? Wait a second, I’ll show you.” . She opened the door of the lounge very softly. Oliver stood behind her. The lounge windows were open, giving into the garden. The light poured over the breakfast table. Viva was seated at it. “Miss Ferrand begins the day with grapefruit and toast,” would no doubt be the caption underneath the photograph. A rather untidy young man was parked behind the camera. Just as Jill opened the door, he took his head out of the black velvet cloth. , “Is that right?” said Viva in tones of .dulcet sweetness. “I want the curve of your eyelashes,” said the young man. “The chin just a little this way—yes,, that’s it.” Suddenly Viva saw Oliver. “Oh!” she gasped, involuntarily. The young man looked round and frowned. Viva spoke quickly and rather sharply. “Hullo! I’m busy. Mr. Morton will soon have finished with me. Take Noll into the other room, Jill, that’s a darling! Like this, Mr, Morton?” She presented the curve of the eyelashes as requested. Jill and Oliver withdrew. They were both looking rather crestfallen. “Of course,” said Jill, “these photographs are terribly important. You must get good publicity for the films. It counts far more than on the stage. I believe the theatre people really can lead private lives. The public wants to know how often a film actress makes up her face, that is if she’s starring. Happily Viva’s still' new to it. She new to it. She doesn’t mind as yet. Well, we won't wait breakfast for her. Oliver. I’ve laid ours in the kitchen. And there’s something else besides toast and grapefruit!”

There was. It struck Oliver that Jill must really be an efficient little housekeeper. The kitchen was spick and span, and there was a bowl of z roses on the table. And the food was what he had dreamed of, eggs golden and white, bacon delicately crisp, toast, rolls made just that morning, and wrapped in a napkin. And the coffee could not have been better.

But somehow, although he had expected to enjoy the breakfast enormously, he found that he could not eat. The food stuck in his throat. He was thankful that Jill, although he thought she noticed, did not press him. His mind and his eyes were full of the sight of Viva, with the sunlight falling upon her soft fair hair, adorable in funny little' Chinese pyjamas with a little white satin coat embroidered in gay blues and greens and purples. All these months he had been deprived of her gave him an increased and almost unbearable longing to hold her, to press her little body against him, to find her lips. ' A thought occurred to him. “Don’t you and Viva usually have breakfast together, Jill?” he said.

“Yes, but—well—it’s got to be a pretty photograph—you see.”

Jill wrinkled up that comical little nose of hers in the way she had when she was amused. Oliver found himself laughing too? Of course. Viva’s little sister was still plain. It didn’t matter, though; she was so trim and neat to look at. It struck him suddenly that the world might' be rather dull, if there were nothing but pretty people in it, and you left out what in the studio, they called character parts. And then, just as he was thinking that, they saw the young man go away, camera and all, and Jill spoke. “You’d better go to her now.” she said.

Oliver said nothing, but rose. He left the kitchen blindly. When he had gone, Jill’s face changed.. There was pity on it now, her eyes were like a mother’s watching a child undergo some operation, and knowing she is powerless to prevent the suffering. Oh, my poor, poor Noll! she whispered. Then she began to clear away the almost untouched breakfast. As it happened. she had hardly eaten more than he had.

In the lounge, Viva, in her gaily coloured coat and her workman-like black satin trousers met Oliver, met him with two hands fluttered in greeting. And the first words she spoke were by no means the words he had expected. “Hullo, Noll! Did you think that a successful pose?” “Pose?" he said stupidly. All he could think of was that he wanted to kiss her. and kiss her! “Yes, when you came in. You shouldn't have come in then, Nol,l. It was stupid of Jill.” "I'm sorry,’ said Oliver. “Oh, darling, you couldn't know, of course. Actually it spoilt my expression. Morton said I'd lost it entirely. You mustn’t think of worrying things, when you're having a photograph taken. A star has to look as if she hadn’t a worry in (he world, you see. I do hope those photographs are all right. I did concentrate after you'd gone. I did try to forget, you." “Was it difficult?" said Oliver grimly. "Oh, darling, don't be offended. It’s

all so terribly important. And, of course, you are rather a worry, aren’t you? And I could see Morton wondering who on earth it was, breezing in on me at that time of the morning.” “Who did you tell him?” said Oliver. “I said our electric radiators were always going wrong, and left it at that,” said Viva. “Well, I couldn’t very well say you were my fiance, could I? I mean ” She broke into smiles. He realised to his surprise that she really was amused. Then she drew him to the mirror. He saw himself suddenly as he must look to her. The prison crop, the roughened skin, above all his eyes, and the bitterness about his mouth. The bitter lines became more bitter. “No, I suppose you couldn’t say I was your fiance,” he said. “I’d forgotten that I would look like —like a man who’d come to mend the radiators. I suppose come to that, I’m hardly your fiance.” “Oh, Oliver, kiss me, kiss me, before we say anything more!” whispered Viva. He kissed her. He held her as if he would never let her go, his arms were round her shoulders. Her head was thrown back, so that he could stoop over it. She was so little, he felt as if he could have picked her up in one hand and put her into his waistcoat pocket. And there was no reluctance about her surrender. She kissed him in return, ardently, passionately, her whole body yielding to him. “And that isn’t how I treat the man who mends the electric radiators,” she whispered. Oliver laughed, a great shout of laughter. Jill heard it in the kitchen. So it was going to be all right then. Oliver felt too, it was going to be all right. The photograph episode now seemed humorous to him. He drew Viva on to the sofa, beside him. “After all, darling,” he said, “my hair will soon be long again, you don’t want me to look like a blooming poet, do you? I’ll soon be quiet a presentable sort of fiance for anybody. Oh, Viva, it’s so marvellous to know that you still love me. I can’t think why..” Neither can 1, Viva was thinking dumbly, neither can I! It’s ridiculous of me, it’s a fatal weakness. Why can't I let him out of my system? I thought perhaps I had. I meant to tell him quite candidly that everything was over between us. And now I've let him kiss me —kissed him back. I wish he’d had five years in prison, instead on one. That’s hardly fair, perhaps. Aloud she said:

“Darling, of course I love you, but we’ll have to talk terribly seriously, I expect Jill told you, I’m a star now. It’s the most critical point in my career, Oliver. Publicity is everything in the world to a film actress. That’s why 1 told Morton you’d come about the electric radiators. Just think what the papers would make of it, if they knew I was engaged to somebody who’d just come out of—who’d been where you’ve been. It wouldn’t do, darling! You must see that yourself. .You wouldn’t be selfish, would you, Noll?” “You mean you’re not engaged to me any longer?” said Oliver. He was sitting at the other end of the sofa now. His voice was utterly expressionless. “Oh, darling,” cried Viva, “this hurls me just as much as it hurts you! I’d almost chuck the films to marry you. But, after all, you’d hardly be able to keep me, would you? I mean, it would be downright silly of me to let you burden yourself with me, when you’ve got to begin again. Later on we can see, can’t we? I mean when I’m established, and you’re established. It won’t be difficult. If you were in Harley Street, for instance ” “In Harley Street,” said Oliver. “That's rather funny, Viva.” “Well, I'm sure you're clever enough. If it hadn’t been that you had had too much to drink that night ” “That’s a lie,” said Oliver sharply. “You know it is!”

Viva jumped to her feet. “How dare you say that,” she cried, “how dare you? Are you still pretending that I jerked your arm? It isn’t very chivalrous of you still to think that, Oliver. I didn’t. I told the Judge I didn’t! It was just Jill’s idea. That kid's got a mania for interfering. If you think I owe you anything because you went to prison, you’re wrong. It’s a good thing I decided not to be engaged to you. You’d better go.” “I’m going,” said Oliver. "Is that your last word, Viva?” “Yes. No. I do love you, of course?" “Love,” said Oliver. “I told you you were being rather funny this morning.” He walked through the open window. He forgot the hat he had left on the hall table outside. He was angry as he had never been angry before, hurt as he had never been hurt before. He had come out of prison, and that was how he had been met. And every kiss Viva had given him seemed to him now a fresh insuit to’ love.

He never thought of the other girl who had kissed him. The girl who now, from the kitchen window, watched him go.

It was between ten and eleven when he reached his own house. It stood in the middle of Charnford High Street. Charnford was a town that was a mixture of country and industrial practice. There were factories in the neighbourhood, so in addition to pleasant country people, to city people who travelled in trains each day, there had always been plenty of panel patients. And as Oliver approached his front door, he saw one of them coming away from the surgery entrance, a draggledlooking woman without a hat, clutching a chemist's order for medicine in her hand. So the practice isn't entirely put. thought Oliver. (To be Continued).

What once were vices are now the manners of the day.—Seneca,