"JILL DOESN'T COUNT"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 29 November 1940, Page 10

"JILL DOESN'T COUNT"

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

Phyllis Hambledon.

(Author of “Youth Takes the Helm.”)

CHAPTER IV. (Continued*. “So you knew, too,” said Oliver. “Only what Malcolm Trant told me,” said Jill. “Greer is Viva's new producer, you know. He can’t be any more than that to her, Oliver. Why she couldn’t love him. He’s old —and horrid.” “Would that matter to Viva if he were useful?” said Oliver. His self-control had slipped; his eyes were blazing. “I agree, he is old and horrid,” he said. “Perhaps, come to that, Viva couldn’t love anybody. But if so, why is she pretending that she does? Kissing him as she kissed me—letting him kiss her, as I kissed her! Held in his arms! Oh, I’ve had to watch it on the screen often enough, but tonight it was life —real life! And her face! Mirrors are funny things; they betray you! Hers betrayed her, all right. What’s a kiss worth? her face said. What’s a kiss worth? Estimating kisses at the value of pounds, shillings and pence!” “Oliver, what are you talking about?” cried Jill aghast. “About your sister —about Viva Ferrand —about the rising young film actress,” said Oliver. “About the girl I loved. Oh, I don’t love her now. I hate her. Funny, isn’t it, what a mirror will do? Yes, it opened my eyes all right for me! That’s the girl I thought the perfect woman. How does it go?—Tn her hour of ease, uncertain, coy, hard to please.’ But in time of trouble, a ministering angel. Ministering angel, my eye! A lot of ministering angel stuff about our Viva! I went to prison, Jill to return for that!”

He sat down at the table and buried his face in his hands. The first passion of his agony was spent. Then he raised his face again. “But you knew too,” he said accusingly. “You knew, too! You are all as bad as each other. Stay on here, build up the practice—for the sake of Viva, you fcaid. For the sake of Viva! Yes, that’s amusing! I. knew that tonight, seeing her with that fellow! What would she want with an ordinary doctor! She’ll fly higher, won’t she? Film stars marry dukes, but only if the dukes ■ have money enough!” ■ “You are talking about my sister,” said Jill whitely. “Oh, I don’t expect she’s any worse than the rest of you,” said Oliver, shrugging his shoulders. “Though I suppose it’s only since the war, that gold-digging has become exclusively a woman’s profession.” “That’s unfair!” said Jill. “But it’s true,” said Oliver. “Why even you, didn’t you say, you grabbed this job because the dispensing business was overcrowded, and you wanted to be certain of getting work?” Jill stared at him him. She was literally bereft of breath. Dispensing’ What had made her think of dispensing? Only because it was the one profession she could help Oliver by taking up. Why was she here at all instead of on the films.? For him. Was that what anybody called gold-digging? Did one scrub and clean and dust and cook, and call it gold-digging? Did one leave one’s home, come to a place like Charnford, put on a white overall, for the sake of what you were going to get out of it? Anyway, where was the gold? She could ask him these questions. She could tell him of the offer Malcolm Trant had made to her. She didn’t. He had really believed her, had he, when she had said she had taken this job, because she had been afraid of being out of work? “Goodnight,” she said quietly. She was going now. She could not help him any further. She knew dimly that she no longer need be frightened for his safety. She had been a sort of safety valve, and he had worked off most of his emotion on her. She could leave now, she could go home to bed, and try to forget what he had said to her. She reached the front door, turned the handle. “Jill! Jill!” Oliver was behind her. He had grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. She saw his face above hers, queer and distorted.

“Jill, how could I say things like that to you, how could I? I was hurt. 1 tried to hurt again. Jill, forgive me! I’m a beast. I’m worse than Viva! I hurt deliberately, intentionally! Jill, I didn't mean a single word of those things I said! There must be good people, good women, still in the world, if you’re there. Why. Jill, you're crying! Did you mind as much as that?" He pulled her back into the sitting room, pushed her down on to the sofa, sat down beside her, put his arm about her.

Jill, darling, don’t cry, that’s a good girl. Don’t cry, Jill. Of course you didn't come here just for a job! Nobody could pay back the kindness you’ve given me. Oh, why did I say it? Why did I have to hurt you? Jill, stop crying, please, please! I can’t bear any more, I tell you!" “Do you think I can either?” said Jill. She was overtired and distraught. For weeks she had overworked and undereaten. And she was not yet nineteen. Her words came tumbling over each other. "I can't bear any more either! Do you think I didn't know what you're feeling? Do you think 1 don't know what love means? Oh, why were we made like this, to be hurt like this? Of course, Viva isn't worth loving. She never was. Viva doesn't want love, she wants what she can get from letting people love her! Oh, yes, it's my sister I’m talking about! How can 1. how can 1? You mustn't listen to what I say. either, Oliver! But I love you. 1 love you so!'’ "You love —me? Jill, is that what you said. You —love me?" Oliver had dropped her hands, lie was staring at her.

“I never said it,” cried Jill in a panic. “I never said it!” “But you did, quite clearly. Is it true, Jill? Is it true?” “Of course is isn’t,” said Jill. “Why should it be? I’m going now. We’ve both made fools enough of ourselves for one night.” She tried to rise, but he put his hand on her knees and forced her back again. “Why of course you love me,” he said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “I ought to have recognised the symptoms, shouldn’t I? Doing everything for somebody, not asking for return. Suffering everything, enduring everything. That’s the Bible, isn’t it? If I’d offered you three hundred a year, you wouldn’t have scrubbed and cooked and worked for me. But I wasn’t giving you anything, and you did it. Yes, that’s love all right. Why do you love me, dear?” “Oh, let me go,” said Jill. “Let me go!” “That’s not likely, is it,” said Oliver. “There aren’t many people who love me like that. Would you like to marry me, Jill?” “Of course not!” said Jill violently. “I’m not so sure,” said Oliver. He raised her chin with his hand and forced her to look at him. “Let’s get married, Jill,” he said. “Let’s get married straightaway. We’ve been partners for a month now, haven’t we? Viva wouldn’t marry'me. I ought to have known it. I don’t want to marry her any longer. At least I want very much not to want to marry her. Jill, marry me! I’d try and be good to you. I’d try not to hurt you again. Be Mrs. Oliver Vereker —for what that’s worth.”

“No,” said Jill firmly. “No. And I’m really going now. You’ve insulted me enough tonight.” “Insulted you, when I asked you to marry me?” said Oliver. “That isn’t the way a girl wants to be asked to be married,” said Jill. “To show Viva!” “Not to show. Viva,” said Oliver unsteadily. “To help me.” To her surprise she felt his arms around her. “To help me, Jill,” he whispered. “I'm so lonely. I’ve —I’ve nothing left to work for at all. It’s a poor business working for yourself. And the Viva I thought I knew. is dead. And I’ve nothing, only you. I’m very, very fond of you, and you love me. And nobody else cares a damn for me. Jill, I want to marry you, honest injun. Will you, my dear? Will you do me that great honour?” He held her a little apart from him looking into her eyes. With one hand he brushed the hair from her forehead. They stared at each other for a full minute, probing each other’s thoughts. I’ve never looked into anybody’s eyes so honest as hers, thought Oliver. And: This may be the best for him, and the best for me, thought Jill. As long as it’s the best for him, that’s all that matters.

It was so queer here all alone with him in the summer darkness, the sleeping house and the sleeping town around them. She had an odd feeling that they belonged to each other, that they were husband and wife already. A. little sigh broke from her lips, a tribute to' the unknown sorrows and joys in front of them. “Yes, Noll, I’ll mirry you,” she said. I’ll give him three days, thought Viva Ferrand. He’ll have calmed down in three’ days. Besides in three days I’ll have time to think. I ought to do without him. But I want him. Never - in tier life had Viva Ferrand considered it necessary to do without what she wanted. It did not seem necessary to her now. Nevertheless she was angry with herself for being so foolish. • She could not marry Greer. He had a wjfe already, a fact unknown to most of his friends and an obstacle which Viva did not in the least regret. She already had ambitions higher than a mere film producer. But that kiss last night had put another fifty pounds a week on her salary. It had shown her too, the power she had over him. Annoying that Oliver should have come in like that.

Why don’t I put him out of my mind anyway thought Viva, savagely. But she couldn't put him out of her mind however much she tried. He had a way with him. He wasn’t like anybody she had ever met. You didn't find his type in the studios. His eyes and his hands could make her heart beat as it beat for nobody else. I’ll see him in three days, she thought that evening, after Gerald's car had driven away. I’ll let him cool down, want mo again. I’ll be able to make him listen to me. If I can twist Greer round my finger, Oliver ought to be easy.

So on the third afternoon she dressed more carefully than usual. Summer clothes were always kind to her. She wore sleeveless white and her head was uncovered. The shadow of sun tan she wore made a piquant contrast with her white frock, and her pale gold hair. The new car she had just bought was cream. People looked after at as 't flashed along the road towards Charnford. Gosh! what a dead and alive hole! thought Viva. J couldn't live here! Oliver- would have to give up the practice for me. He might be able to get an appointment somewhere. She saw the doctor's plate, and the fresh curiains and the flowers in the window-boxes. A woman was coming out of the surgery door leading a child by the band. The child had a bandage round its head. They were quite poor working people. Fancy having to look after creatures of that kind, thought Viva! But when they stared at her openmouthed. she smiled mechanically. When she had really arrived, they would be her public. SJie rang the front door bell. It was Jill that answered it. “Hullo, Jill." said Viva crisply. “I want to see Oliver."

(To be Continued)