"JILL DOESN'T COUNT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 27 November 1940, Page 10

"JILL DOESN'T COUNT"

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

Phyllis Hambledon.

(Author of “Youth Takes the Helm.”)

CHAPTER 111. (Continued >. “What’s the damage?” asked Malcolm. “Two guineas,”'said Jill without turning a hair. She knew that Malcolm was made of money. “A bit steep surely?” he said mildly. “However here you are. It was worth two guineas to find out where you were hiding yourself ,my sweet. And ” He broke off. Oliver had just entered the surgery.

“Oh, Oliver, this is Mr. Malcolm Trant, the author and scenario writer,’ said Jill.

She usually called Oliver Dr. Vereker, with ceremony, to patients and prospective patients, but today she was a little flustered. The two men measured each other thoughtfully. Rather think Man in the Case was a lucky shot, Trant reflected. He’s goodlooking. Vereker? Wasn’t there something about him in the papers? “Your car seems a bit knocked up, said Oliver. “I saw. it outside. You seem to have been knocked about too. “Your dispenser has repaired the damage very adequately,” said Malcolm with formality. “Goodbye. Jill. Don’t forget what I said. If you change your mind, let me knew.” “I never change my mind,” said Jill. “Then you’re the only woman who doesn’t,” said Trant. “I’m not particularly womanly,” said Jill. <■

“Aren’t you?” said Trant. “I’m not so sure. By the way, does Dr. Vereker give you a half day or a night or anything?” “Of course I do,” said Oliver. He was angry. “Jill is free whenever she wants to be.” “Then I shall call the next fine evening on the chance that she wants to be free,” said Trant. “Au revoir, my dear.”

He held out his hand to Jill. His eyes were mischievous. They told Jill that he had discovered her secret. She was furious to find herself blushing again. When he had gone, Oliver spoke. “That man’s in love with you!” he said. Oh never on this earth! was what Jill had on the tip of her tongue to say, but she changed it. Perhaps she was rather womanly after all. “Maybe,” she said airily, in the best Viva manner. “Are you in love with him?” said Oliver. Would you mind if I were? Jill wanted to ask him.

“Oh, no,” she answered, but very unconvincingly. “I believe you are,” said Oliver. “I shan’t ever marry,” said Jill., “There you are.” She handed him the two pounds and the two shillings. “That pays the gas bill.” “You mean you stung him that?” cried Oliver. “Of course. He can afford it. He's made of money.” Oliver threw back his head and laughed outright. “I do like you,” he said. “You’ve got the most outrageous cheek! One never knows what you’re going to do next. It's a comfort about that gas bill, though.” “It isn’t,” said Jill. “If we wanted to commit suicide, it’s always as well to know the gas won’t conk out in the middle.” Oliver laughed again. That gas bill had kept him awake last night. Then his expression changed. changed. “Off-White is coming to the Elite next week,” he said. “Viva’s in it, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” said Jill. “Come with me to see it?” said Oliver. “No,” said Jill, very violently. Oliver hated films. He only went when Viva was acting in them. He would sit with a bemused expression on his face. Jill, had gone with him once —never again. “Why, what’s biting you?” asked Oliver., surprised. “Nothing, only if I go, I can go in a sevenpenny seat in the afternoon; you, with a reputation to keep, have to take plush fauteuil at two-and-sixpence. That would cost five bob for the two of us. Besides a doctor shouldn’t take out his dispenser to the pictures. People talk. They imagine a romance in no time.” “How perfectly absurd!” said Oliver. “Oh, I hate you, I hate you!” cried Jill. She took Oliver entirely by surprise. To his amazement he saw the tears were starting in her eyes. He could n’t think what the matter was. Starring in Dear' Little Plain Girl, thought Jill furiously. A romance for me—impossible! Is a girl to like being plain, is she supposed to laugh and laugh about it? “My dear girl,” said Oliver, “my dear girl, what have 1 done?” He laid his arm about her shoulders.

“I hate to see you like this,” he said. “Please, please do tell me what the matter is. Look here—l know that fellow Trant’s at the bottom of it! I believe you are in love!” ‘Well, then, perhaps I am,” said Jill. She dashed the tears from her eyes. “But if I am, I’m not going to talk about it.” She left the room, closing the door behind her. Oliver looked after her in perplexity. He knew she did not want to bo followed. How queer she was today. He felt that he hardly know nor. Bother Trant, in spite of the forty-two shillings which had been extracted from him. “Oh. this love!” ho thought. When Jill arrived at the surgery the next morning, it was to find Oliver turning away from the telephone. “Well, I suppose I owe that to you.’ he said. “What do you mean,” asked Jill. “They've rung up from Trant's house. He’s feeling the after-effects of the

I motor accident yesterday, and wants me to call.” “You mustn't charge him a penny less than a guinea a visit,” said Jill instantly. “You little gold-digger!” said Oliver. “Only when people can pay,” said Jill. “You do so much for nothing anyway. Besides I'm here to help you build up the practice. Oliver, this may be wonderful. Trant lives in the middle of a garden city. If he only tells his friends what a marvellous doctor you are, you’re made!” “They’ll prefer somebody who hasn’t been in gaol!” said Oliver bitterly.

“You haven’t to think of that ever again,” said Jill quickly. “It’s against the rules.” ‘You’re a good girl, Jill,” said Oliver. It occurred to him that looking at her this morning it wasn’t ridiculous to imagine that Malcolm Trant was in love with her. She was always gay and unexpected. When he called at the Moorings, Trant’s house, he found himself liking the man, though he had had a previous vague indefinable prejudice against him. He called four times in all, and then one afternoon, Malcolm now fully recovered appeared at the doctor’s house in the blue car, which was also recovered and reconditioned. I

“I’ve come for that free afternoon of yours,” he said to Jill. “Oh, I don’t think ” began Jill reluctantly. Oliver overheard her. “That’s ridiculous. Take her off, Trant. She wants to get away from the smell of iodine.

Accordingly a quarter of an hour later Jill was sitting beside the wheel. As 'the car left Charnford she knew a revulsion of feeling. Yes, it was good to be out again. For a month now she had known nothing but a doctor’s practice, eaten it, seen it, dreamt about it, talked about it. There was a world outside, a world reborn with the newborn summer, even though this man weren’t the right man to share it with her.

And yet Oliver seemed to think that Malcolm Trant might be the right man. He had even seemed a trifle jealous. To be able to make Oliver jealous of Trant was exhilarating. Jill was laughing as the car disappeared down the High Street. She had indeed registered a perfect picture of the young woman going out with a very attractive gentleman. Trant, himself, was quite deceived by it. Il don’t believe this kid often gets taken out, he told himself. I’ll give her a perfectly marvellous day. They drove towards the river. They hired a boat. Malcolm rowed well and they drifted over silver water. The banks were bright with loosestrife. The hawthorn was like snow ever so faintly tinted with sunset, Jill’s white arm went out and she caught a spray of it. “The darling buds of May,” she quoted dreamily.

‘Do you read poetry, Jill?” asked Malcolm, surprised. “Of course. Lots of it and all kinds. Hubert Wolfe and Chatterton and Wilfred Gibson. But you can always come back to Shakespeare again, can’t you? I know lots of the sonnets by heart. I send myself to sleep with them at night.” “You're a queer child, Jill,” said Malcolm.

“Why?” “I don’t know. But you’re sweet. I don’t think I ever met anybody so sweet. Any reason why we shouldn’t spend lots of these free afternoons oi yours together?” “It would be wasting your time,” said Jill. “It might be the best use I'd ever made of it,” said Malcolm Trant emphatically. “I’m so sick of lovelys, my dear. You pick them up, or avoid picking them up. at the studios dt seven for sixpence. If you’re in the film business the world seems seething with pretty girls. It’s so ordinary to be pretty nowadays. I like you, Jill, and liking is such a good foundation to begin on. You like me too, don’t you?” “Of course,” said Jill, “but——” “But what?” She wondered if she should tell him of her hopeless adoration of Oliver, who was in his turn, just as hopelessly crazy about Viva. The day, the ripple on the water, the flowers, the sound of a portable wireless, all made for confidences. But she was reserved by nature. It would have been a violation of all she held most secret and sacred. So she answered instead: “But I like such a lot of people.” “You'll like me better than most of them before I've finished with you,” said Malcolm. They had tea at a charming riverside hotel where the swans came to the bank to be fed. Malcolm proposed dinner and dancing afterwards. But Jill shook her head. This was Tuesday, Oliver's free evening. She must be back to “hold the fort,” as she put it. Malcolm grumbled, but

he drove her back to the doctor’s house in Charnford and left her there. Oliver was in the kitchen when she entered. He had been making tea for himself. He wasn’t one of the men who. as their mothers and wives say proudly, are handy about the house. He had made the tea too strong, and the toast was burnt, and the kitchen untidier than strictly necessary. Ho looked up with relief when he saw Jill. “Had a good time?” he asked. For a second Jill did not answer. She was surprised and frightened at her own feelings and the rush of gladness at being home again. Yes. home. She had said the word quite naturally to herself. But this wasn’t home. She must not think of it as that. “Oh, yes. I had a marvellous time,” she answered. “Malcolm and I went

on the river.” “So you call him Malcolm now?” said Oliver.

He really did sound a little jealous thought Jill with pleasure.

(To be Continued)