Christmas for Two

Evening Star, Issue 20982, 22 December 1931, Page 4

Christmas for Two

By H. E. GARDEN

Lester Garrick’s spirits lifted as he left behind the last of London’s murkiness and drove into this new, exhilarating world—the open country at last! Here a white morning mist had melted before the sun. Trees, hedges, and the grassy tops of ditches were sprinkled with glittering lime, and the frosted roadway sparkled. ‘Breathing it all in gratefully, he ' stretched himself in his seat and accelerated. The car answered gaily, as though she, too, found cheer in this bracing new world, and she streaked up the hill with a gleeful whizz. At the crest of the hill something cam© hurtling through the hedge straight at the rushing car. Garrick cried out and rammed on his foot-brake. The car skidded across the road on the rim of her off wheels, and then rocked dizzily to rights. Garrick got to the regulation side of the road, shut off, and turned in his seat. A girl, clutching a small leather suit' case, came running up. “I’m so sorry!” sho called breathlessly. , gf “Sorry! But why choose that method of killing yourself—and me?” H© had had a jarring few seconds of it, and his tone was distinctly curt. \ “ I don’t wonder you’re savage with me. But I heard a car, and I thought it was coming along the road behind me. That’s why I shot through the hedge, because I was afraid they’d see mo hiding there if they came along the road.” Ho shook his head. Her explanation might have a meeting, hut not for him. Anyhow, it didn’t matter. “ Well, I’m glad neither of us will have to spend Christmas in the hospital—or worse,”' he said, on a more friendly note, and pressed down his self-starter. “ Though if I may offer a word of advice ” “Listen!” she cut in peremptorily. “It’s growing louder; travelling to- , wards us,” said the girl in a rapid undertone. She met his puzzled, questioning look with a steady regard, and there seemed to him an unmistakable appeal in her clear eyes, alight now with a strange kind of half-amused excitepient. ■ Suddenly ho pressed down the selfstarter again." “ Jump in,” he said shortly. And then; “Where to?” he asked, as the next moment she landed lightly beside hijn. “ Anywhere until we’ve shaken off the other,” sho said.. He let in the clutch and the car shot forward, while she, turning in her seat, looked along the receding road. “ What car is it?” Garrick asked without shifting his eyes from the road ahead; f “ A large maroon touring six—a Speedwell. Your Chesterfield hasn’t much chance against it.” “ I’ll give ’em a run for it, though. * I know the lay of the land hereabouts,” he said, turning abruptly left. “ Turn up the narrowest lane you know,” she whispered, “and while we’re screened for a moment I’ll jump out ,and shelter behind a hedge. Look out some likely place for me as you go along.” He admired her ready resource, and, though the whole affair became mon> and more unaccountable, yet he obeyed her instructions exactly. He had in mind the very lane for her purpose—a mere bridle-path flanked by hedges and dense-growing gorse. A few minutes later his two-seater was making a decidedly choppy passage over the rough surface of the bridlepath. When he reached mid-way he warned her.’ 1 “ We’re clear of ’em for the moment, and I’m going to stop. I’m pulling in close to a clump of gorse bushes—on our left.” “ All right.” Leaning over, he opened the car door ready for, her, and then pulled up. She was out of the car and behind the gorse hushes in a flash, as from the near distance the Speedwell was heard coming up. Then, the girl’s voice came in an urgent whisper from behind her cover. “I say!” “ “Hallo?” . “Fling ray suit case out—hide it! Important——” He clambered out, caught up her little case, and dropped it behind the hedge. Then, a plan forming in his mind, he moved to the head of his car and. lifted the bonnet just as the large maroon five-scater holding three men nosed round into the littl; lane. Garrick bent over his bonnet, apparently unconscious of the Speedwell's approach. “Toot! toot!” said the Speedwell, calling polite attention to herself. Garrick looked up. “May I get through, sir?” called the Speedwell’s driver pleasantly. It was impossible for cars to pass in this little by-way; either Garrick would have to go on or the big maroon would have to go into reverse. V Sorry, sir,” said Garrick, “hut I’m stuck.” “ Oh, bad luck,” said the other, getting out of the big maroon car _ and strolling forward. “Anything serious, d’you think?” There was something about the man which, despite his friendly approach, put Garrick instantly on guard. The man in some indefinable way seemed to l radiate a kind of official air. The two others in the big maroon, Garrick noted in an unobtrusive glance in their direction, produced a similar impression. “It’s probably a spot of ignition trouble which I’ll soon fix, though I shall be stuck here some minutes,” said Garrick. “Right. I’ll hack out as I can’t pass you. And perhaps j'ou can help me. I’ve rather lost my bearings in this maze of by-ways.” “Where’re yon for?” “Burntwood,” he said, hesitantly. “You’re somewhere off the track for

that. But I can put you on. Look / there,” j Garrick pointed through a break in the hedge. “ See that church spire?” “Where? Oh—yes, I’ve got it.” “That’s your mark; that’s Ashleigh Green. You’ll strike the Burntwood road soon’s you’ve crossed Ashleigh Bridge.” “Thanks so ;much. Not over-popu-lated here,” the man observed. “ Don’t think I’ve passed more than half a dozen people in an hour.” There seemed to be a questioning ' note behind the remark. “Matter of fact,” said Garrick casually, “I don’t remember passing a soul.” Which was more or less true, as he had picked up, not passed, the strange girl. “Quite,” said the other, who seemed satisfied with the reply- “Wei’, good morning to you. sir.” ■ • “Good morning. And a • merry Christmas,” said Garrick cheerfully.

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“Ah, thanks. The same to you.” Garrick returned to his car, while the other entered his Speedwell and backed out of the lane. Presently, through the break in the hedge, Garrick had a view of the big maroon car heading towards Ashleigh. “AH clear,” he announced, and, picking up the girl’s suit case, returned it to the Chesterfield.

“You were great—l hoard everything,” said the girl, coming from her cover and entering the car. “I had to hide my suit case,” she volunteered, “ as 1 remembered it’s marked with my initials, and if that had been Spotted it would have given the show away.” “Yes?” said Garrick, taking his place at the wheel.

“They are detectives,” she said. Detectives! That explained the official air of the occupants of the big maroon car. Well, this appeared a fairly queer business to be mixed up in, on a Christmas Eve morning in the heart of rural Oxfordshire. However, he had come to the girl’s aid, and he wasn’t going to back out now. Nor was he going to ask her to elucidate. “ What happens now?” he asked, and added quickly: “ I’m not pumping you for explanations, only I want to know where 1 can drop you.” “Do you know Lavenham?” she asked, after a slight hesitation. “Yes, know it well. Wo pass my cottage at Quinton Cross on the way to Lavenham village.” “ Would you drop me near Lavenham? ”

“ All right. Just give me the tip when you want to get out,” he said, starting the engine. “ You’re—awfully good. Will yon show me your cottage on the way? ” “ Yes, rather,” he nodded. Quinton Cross was only a matter of some five miles from the little lane, and an almost unbroken silence was maintained between them until Garrick told her they wore nearing his place. Then, after making a slight detour, he drew up a few yards away from it. “ But how simply perfect,” she said. “ Glad you like it. \l’ve had it almost entirely rebuilt to my own design.” “Your own design? Are you an artist, then? ”

“No,” he smiled, “merely an architect.”

“Now that.” said the girl, “must be a fascinating profession.” “ It’s all right when the commissions are flowing in, but when you’re struggling to get there on;your own .” He shrugged. “ Money’s the thing to give you a start, a show—to get you in the swim. Next time you near any rich person decry money don’t forget to be thoroughly amused.” “ All the same, money isn’t everything.” “It’s great stuff, though,” he said. They exchanged a few commonplaces while he drove towards Lavenham, until presently the girl, after looking about her, asked to he set down. He pulled up, and the girl alighted -with her suitcase.

“Well ” he'said, and paused. And then: “ Look here, my cottage is on the telephone—business reasons, you know. Are you on the phone where you’re going?” “ Er —yes.”

He nodded, fished a pencil and a scrap of paper out. “I’ve put down my phone number there,” he said, holding out the paper. “You’re in some kind of a mess—no, 1 don’t want any confidences. Only if you need a hand at any time—or shelter or anything, ring me up. I’ve a gem of a woman, a Mrs Brill, who looks after me at the cottage, and you’d be—all right with her. Don’t forget. Good bye.” A small gloved hand met and grasped his very firmly. “I won’t forget. Thank vou. You’ve been very good to me.” Sho put real reeling into the simple words. “ Oh-—nothing. Good-bye and good luck.”

Queer how empty the car seemed on the return journey to his cottage, and queer the unaccountable sense of restlessness he experienced. Mrs Brill’s welcome was warm, and tho luncheon she served him was succulent; his parlour was snug and friendly and gay a ith Mrs Brill’s Christmas decorations. , A bit lonely? Of course he wasn’t lonely—what the dickens . He took a long tramp in tho afternoon, which went far to dispel his curious dissatisfaction. But later in the evening, with the book that refused to interest, by the fireside that somehow lacked cheeriness, tho old restlessness returned. x Lonely? Well, perhaps a bit, though up to now he’d always preferred to be •i 11 ?* j.’ er “ a P s Christinas wasn't the n? • i _f o1 ’ solitude. To-morrow's Christmas dinner—it’d be rather jolly to have two or three people coining to the cottage to keep Christmas with nun; or it not one or two, say one then Just one other with him at Christmas.

Then the telephone bell ranw. ... ■ 1 A ro^ h i his ciiair and into the little hall with a rush, and he ii C rr' 'vrenchod down the receiver. urtiT.. 0 ?. said. “Hallo?”, . her volee answered—hd knew it for hers at once—“l sa y, can you come ” J

Suddenly the voice broke off. He heard a little startled cry, and what sounded like a chair scraped back and overturned, then nothing but the crackle-crackle of the telephone. ?, ; l I]cd a g ain a, id again. Hallo. Hallo. But there was only blank silence at the other end. At last he hung up. Something had happened while she was calling to him for help. “Can you come ” That was a call for help. But how could he answer that broken appeal—not knowing from where it came? Lavenham ? That told him nothing definite. She might be in any one of fifty houses there or in its neighbourhood. How could ho go knocking at strange doors in search of a. girl whose name he didn’t even know ?

Nothing to he done, only—ves, by gad, though, he could pet the car out and run over to Lnvenham and hang about on the chance of • encountering her. A very off-chance, but at least it Would be making an attempt. What was the time? H’m, latish.

He took down his heavy topcoat from its hall peg, and as he struggled into it he gave up all pretence with himself that the strange girl meant nothing to him. Nothing? Why, she was the only girl that had ever meant anything to him at all.

That was the truth. Though ho had first met her only a few hours back, didn’t know who or what she was—didn’t know her mupe even, ho ached to serve her. No use arguing about it —there it absolutely was’

He collared his cap. thing himself out of tiio cottage, and ran round to his garage.

Some two hours later ho had to admit to himself that he had drawn a hopeless blank. Ho had hung about Lavenham and district until he was chilled to fie bone, but he had encountered nothing and no one under the midnight Christinas moon. Dispirited and uneasy, he headed for home, and was travelling the deserted road when a Klaxon sounded a warning behind. Giving way, and sending the other a momentary sideways glance as it came up, Garrick caught a sharp breath.

For the car that streaked past him, and whose tail light was soon a mere red speck in the . distance, was a maroon five-seater Speedwell.

The snow that had laden a bleak sky began to fall on the afternoon of Christmas Day. Chafing against the circumstance that made out of doors a wet discomfort, Garrick went for tho twentieth time to the window and looked out.

What ho saw coming down the lane so amazed him he could not at first realise that his eyes were not playing him tricks. Then the next moment he was out of the room and the house, hatless, coatless, running down to the gate. “Hallo!” he called as he ran. “Hallo there!”

He flung the gate open just as it was reached by the giri he had seen from his window.

“Good gracious!” sho exclaimed. “You have not hat or coat on. Go in at once.”

He drew her through the gate. “ Come along,” he said. “ Mrs Brill will give us tea.” Siie laughed as he eagerly, boyishly ran her up the little snow-covered garden path. In the hall of the cottage she turned to him, saying that he must change his jacket that was all snowy and wet. “That’s all right.” He slipped out of his coat and, stepping aside, shook it. “How about yourself?” he asked, putting his coat on again. * “Oh, this thick winter mac of mine has kept me all right. And look— —” Sho showed him that rubber Wellingtons encased her slim feet.

He nodded approval, told her to remove Her mac, helped her out of it and hung it on a hall peg. Her little felt hat was also discarded. How about tho Wellingtons—was she keeping those on, he asked. She would slip them off, if she might, she said, as she had on a pair of light house shoes underneath. “ Oh, good; squat down on that stair,” he nodded, “ while 1 draw oft your rubbers.” Then, that done, he ushered her into his little parlour and stirred the fire and pulled up a chair for her. She stood looking about her. “ What a gem of a little room, cosy and everything,” she said. “ And I love your Christmassy decorations. Are you giving an evening party?” “ Rather not. The decorations are Mrs Brill’s doing. I’m spending Christmas on my own. But do come to the fire and sit down, and I’ll light the lamps and draw the curtains, and then you can tell me ” He carried his words into effect while she crossed to tho fire, where presently he joined her, pulling up a companion armchair.

“ I say,” ho said, “ that phone message of yours last night that said ‘ Can you' come—’ and then broke off ” “ I was only ' telephoning to ask whether you would caro to come over to Lavenham on Christmas morning and meet my friend Hetty Goring, who’s putting me up there. You see, I felt that 1 owed you some explanation about—everything that happened yesterday—after all you’d done for me.” N

“Good heavens! Was that all? When, your phopo call broke off so sharply I thought—well, I didn’t like it. You seemed pretty well scared.” “ I was startled. You see, I’d only just started to telephone you when Betty—who knows everything about—everything—called out to me that those awful detectives were hanging about outside, and she was afraid they’d hear my voice.” She looked at him, then said: “ I chanced it later on.” “ Chanced what?”

“ Telephoning you. 1 called you up again; in fact, I called you three times between about 10 and midnight, but 1 got no answer.” “ Good heavens! while I was out searching the country for ” He broke off.

She looked at him intently, puzzled, questioning, yet half-guessing. Sho said at length: “ Were you out on my account?”

“ Well, yes, as a matter of fact. You see, 1 thought your ‘ Can you come ’ was a call lor help, so 1 ”

“It was good of you,” she said warmly, “tremendously good of you!” “Tremendously—nothing!” he almost snapped. “ I wont because I wanted to—had to, rather—yes, had to,” he repeated, meeting her wide gaze. “ Look hero ” —his tone wms queerly hoarse—“ look here,” he said again and stopped. Then he got up, ■walked tho length .of tho room and back, and came to a stand by his chair. “ All I ask is that you won’t laugh at me,” he said, “ even though you think I’m quite mad.” “ Why should I do that?” sho asked, looking up at him. “ Wait till you’ve heard. Would you consider the proposition of marrying me?” She gaped at him, 'literally speechless.

“ But you—wo —l mean Why, you don’t even know my name,” she articulated at last. “ And it doesn't matter. I mean, 1 don’t care if it’s Emma—not if it’s Emma Noggs.” “ It’s Benita—Benita Wynne,” she said, smiling.

“ That’s fine—suits you. Mine's I.ester Garrick. And I’ve asked you if you’ll consider marrying me one day.” “ And all you know about me,” she asid slowly, “ is that I’m a girl ivho’s running away from detectives. Aren’t yon being rather rash ? I might be—anything.”

He shook his head at her. “ I’d bank on you. You never did a crooked thing in your life.”

“ You .seem very sure.,” “ 1 am. It’s in your eyes.” “ How about your work and ambitions? How about those remarks you made to mo in the car yesterday about money—do yon remember? You seemed to think money very important. Well, how do you suppose marrying mo would help you there?” “I mapped out a scheme of things for myself, Benita Wynne,” he said, “in which work and ambition and the making of money entered prominently, in which the business of suddenly and hopelessly losing mj' heart did not enter at all.”

“ And are yon prepared to throw all your ambitions overboard because of me ? ’ ’

“ On the contrary, I have more ambition—because of yon, a keener desire to work and get there with it—because of you. But even if 1 failed, I’d rather bo a failure with yon than a success without you. Strange but tr;ie, but you’ve scattered all my old dreams and shown me a possible reality much move worth attainment. T’vc never said quite that to any other girl in my life.”

“Mr Garrick,” she said, “my father is Spencer Wynne—the Spencer Wynne.” Ho started. “The big city magnate—that awful swell? Then you—then, goad heavens, you’re wealthy!” ho exclaimed in a shocked voice. “ Father is, I'm afraid. Also he’s inclined to be rather dictatorial. He was very busy ordering my life for me—that’s how it conies about,” she smiled, “that I’m dodging about the country in an attempt to evade the private detectives father employed to track me. You see, he got it into his head that 1 was much too keen on a certain Claude Bryant —— ’’ “And were'you?” Garrick interposed quickly. She shook her head. “He danced perfectly and—that’s all. Jf anything I rather disliked him.” “Oh, good!” said Garrick heartily. “ Well? ” “Father overdid it with me about Claude Bryant. He swore I shouldn’t marry him—which I never had the remotest intention of doing. .But father’s attitude put my back up. I said I should marry whom 1 choose, to which father replied that I was under age and he’d stop me. I bet him be couldn’t. Ho made me a sporting offer. He bet me a thousand pounds that I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without his knowing. 1 accepted the challenge—T accepted for the fun of the thing. That’s two weeks and a bit ago, and I’ve led .those detectives of father’s a dance. s They’ve never actually got me yet, though they’ve been precious near it—as you know.” “Is there any _ time limit to the bet? ” asked Garrick. “ Yes,” she nodded, her eyes twinkling, “If they don’t catch me by Christmas Day, I’ve won. I’d like that thousand pounds. Besides, it’d do father no end of good to get the worst of it—bless him.” She was looking down at the fire. And while she stood considering, there reached them the distant throbbing of a car, the sound of which drew nearer and nearer. They both stood arrested. “ It can’t be that awful Speedwell.” she • whispered. Oh—listen ”

She sat very still, looking into the fire. Then: The two at the parlour fire held their breath—while the car drew near and nearer, turned down the little lane, ran along it, gained the cottage, and wont past. Then Garrick released his breath. “False alarm,” he breathed. And then: “Stay here for Christmas—and win that thousand pounds. Christmas for two, Benita? ” She \ turned and hesitated—and blushed—and then nodded. “ I’ll stay,” she said. He took a sudden step towards her. “When your outraged parent hears that you’re thinking of marrying a struggling architect one day ” “But I haven’t ” “ And decides in consequence to cut you off with the proverbial shilling “ Well, don’t you see what a useful start that thousand pounds wall give us?.” “ I see,” she said.