JILL DOESN'T COUNT

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 63, Issue 310, 11 October 1943, Page 6

JILL DOESN'T COUNT

SERIAL STORY.

A Romantic Story of Rival Sisters

(Copyright).

(PHYLLIS HAMBLEDON).

CHAPTER XXXVII

NEWS FOR OLIVER.

“The fact is, Mrs Vereker,” said Dr. Anderson. “It’s no use hiding the truth from you, your -husband isn’t picking up as he ought to. It will be a long time before he can tackle the practice again, at this rate of progress.”

“If that means we have still got to go on paying that odious little Dr. Frith, I shall go mad,” said Jill hysterically.

“I think you might give Frith a send-off,” said Dr. Anderson. “ I think if I speak to the medical agents, they can get something better than that for you. Of course, pneumonia is a nasty business, And we’ve still six weeks of possible bad weather ahead of us. It might mean that Oliver’s lungs will be permanently affected. If you could get him abroad noNv, until the March winds were over, I’d feel happier about him. Is that impossible?”

“Impossible!” said Jill. “We are only just getting the practice together again, you see. And people had been paying .so badly. And I haven’t been able to be so careful with the housekeeping, with Oliver ill, and I lie awake at night, thinking of the bills. Oh, it’s rather tough luck, isn’t it, Dr. Anderson? We’ve tried to hard.” “No rich relation you can sting for a loan?” asked Dr. Anderson. What about that sister of hers, he wondered, reputed to be earning thousands?

“I couldn’t take anything from any of them,” said Jill.

“You may have to, if it’s the case of a life,” said the doctor seriously. He left Jill a prey to morbid and frightened horror. She, too, knew that Oliver wasn’t picking up as lie should. She knew that he fretted, because he was still too weak to take over the practice. Dr. Frith’s negligent care of it goaded him to frenzy. He fumed over the book-keeping, listened to the surgery bell as eagerly as if he had hsd to answer it. Certainly a doctor’s house was no place for a doctor to get well in, Jill reflected sadly. But when they hadn’t a five pound note to tlieir name, how could they talk of foreign travel. « Quite suddenly she remembered Freyne’s offer and the possibility of playing in Dear Little Plain Girl. She had never mentioned it to Oliver. Lately his hatred of the films had increased. It had become almost an obsession with him, something which in better health he would forget about, but at present he talked of gangster films that goaded lads to crime, of amorous films polluting the minds of young men and women. Nor would he have allowed Jill to work for him - much though she worked for him already. Oliver still had old-fashioned ideas about husbands supporting wives.

Yes, but supposing lie was abroad, somewhere supposing he didn’t know ?

Jill sat perfectly still, thinking over the matter in all its‘aspects. First of all, it was essential to get Oliver atvay. Secondly they must live somehow while he was gone, they must get rid of Frith, find a locum tenens who was trustworthy and competent. And when Oliver came back, he must come hack, not to bills, but to a practice ready and waiting for him. And you couldn’t dp that without any money.

“I’d pay you a thousand pounds and you could have a good spot of that in advance.” Those had been Freyne’s words.

She went to the telephone and rang up Trant. “Have they found anybody for Dear .Little Plain Girl?” she asked him. “The scenario is still in the pigeonhole,” said Trant morosely. “Then I’ve changed my mind about it. If the offer’s still open, I’d like to accept. Malcolm’s shout of triumph told her that the offer was still open. “I’ll have to make- stipulations, though,” she said qupicldy. “Oliver’s going away. I can’t begin rehearsing until he has gone, and I don’t want him to know anything about it, until the picture is finished. And I want two hundred pounds down, please.” “I’ll see that you get it and the agreement to-morrow,” said Malcolm. “Jill, I wish I could tell you how glad I am!” "So am I, come to that,” said Jill. Two days later Jill went up to Oliver’s bedroom. “I’ve news for you, Noll,” she said. “I’ve taken rooms for you at the Eclat. Hotel at Biarritz for the next mouth.” “What?” said Oliver and then sharply, suspiciously: “Who’s paying for them.” She knew that he was thinking of Viva. “The Regans are paying l'or them,” lied Jill. “They’ve settled their hill at last!” ***** “Ready there!” roared John Freyne “Cameras! Shoot” Jill laid her head on the shonnlder of young Harry Cask, who was playing opposite her. She faced the glaring lights of the cameras. Her face was bright yellow and her eyes montrosities. “Plain am I?” she murmured dreamily. “I don’t believe I can be really plain when 1 feel so perfectly lovely inside!” “Fine,” said John Freyne. He jumped from his seat. “That makes a daisy of a curtain! This picture hasn’t gone badly, it hasn’t gone badly at, all! We’ve only those scenes by the river to shoot.” He picked up his megaphone. “Principals and extras at my place to-morrow morning at eight, unless it’.s pouring a deluge. Should

be through by the end of the week With any luck. ’Bye Miss Ferrand.” “Oh, one minute, Mr Freyne!” said Jill. “Might I speak to you?” “Sure. What’s the matter?” “Must I have a ‘double’ for that accident scene to-morrow?” said Jill. “I’m a pretty good swimmer, you know.” “Can’t risk anything,” said Freyne. “If you got hurt, the whole picture would be held up. I’ve just had a message from the casting people, saying they’ve found a suitable girl. She’s got her certificate for swimming'. You wouldn’t want to do her out of five quid, anyhow, would you? I’m pleased, Miss Ferrand! I don’t often say I’m pleased, but this time 1 am!” Jill smiled radiantly. Freyne stopped behind to speak to the head camera man. Harry Cask joined Jill. (To be Continued). The characters in this story are entirely imaginary. No reference is intended to*any living person or to any public or private company.