Read Online Crescendo by Phyllis Bentley - Free Book Online

Oxford,” said Jerry.
    â€œFound your feet at what?”
    â€œAnd perhaps to travel a little,” said Jerry.
    Arnold sighed. He jingled the coins in his pocket thoughtfully.
    â€œLook,” he said: “How would it be, Jerry, if you asked this friend of yours to come and stay at Holmelea?”
    The sudden flash of happiness in his son’s face hurt Arnold more than anything in the last twenty years. How unhappy the boy must be at home, to take such joy in the anticipated visit of a stranger!
    â€œWell, then, ask him for your long half-term weekend in June. Your mother and I only want your happiness, Jerry.”
    â€œI know, dad.”
    â€œWe shan’t stand in your light.”
    And so, last Friday afternoon Arnold came home from the mill to find that the guest had arrived. (Jerry having risen at the crack of dawn had contrived to reach home for lunch.) A shabby and bulging suitcase stood in the hall, and sounds ofanimated conversation came from the drawing-room. Arnold, feeling nervous, settled his tie and went in.
    Meg, Jerry and Chillie were still at tea. Meg was pouring into one of the best Rockingham cups, Jerry stood attentively at her side waiting to hand it to his friend, Chillie with his arm stretched across the back of Jerry’s chair was gazing up at the tall fair boy.
    Arnold was instantly and irrevocably convinced that the man Chillie was a sexual pervert. He was dark, bearded and though somewhat slovenly in dress not ill-looking, but Arnold had not spent a rather dissipated youth and several years in the army for nothing; he knew the signs.
    He closed the door behind him; at the noise Chillie looked up and their eyes met, and Arnold knew that Chillie knew he knew. The whole affair was perfectly clear. In Chillie’s eyes Jerry was not only handsome but rich, and he intended to live for a few years, while the infatuation lasted, on an allowance provided by Jerry’s father. Arnold had the disgust for sexual abnormality often felt by strongly virile men of instinctive, unthinking disposition, and such a rage possessed him at the thought that Meg’s son should be mixed up with this dirty fellow that he could hardly contain himself; it was all he could do not to rush at Chillie and batter him with his fists.
    â€œWell,” said Arnold. “Our guest has arrived, I see.”
    Introductions were effected. Arnold sat down and declined tea. His manner was so grim that it was impossible not to notice it. Meg glanced at him beseechingly, Jerry with astonishment. The boy’s young face showed that he was completely unaware of the true nature of Chillie’s feeling for him. Arnold saw this with a thankfulness which left him weak. Arnold fixed his gaze on Chillie and kept it there. After a moment or two of this the man shifted about in discomfort, and at last said lightly:
    â€œI’m afraid I’m not quite the friend you expected for Gervase, Mr. Barraclough?”
    His tone, smooth, liquid, assured, was yet impertinent.
    â€œHe thinks he’s got such a tight hold on Jerry he needn’t trouble to be polite to me,” thought Arnold. Aloud he said roughly: “Well, I hadn’t expected a beard.”
    â€œArnold, dear!” Meg rebuked him.
    Jerry coloured and said quickly:
    â€œIn Yorkshire that sort of personal remark is considered friendly and forthright, Chillie.”
    He gave his father an angry glance. A satisfied smile gleamed for a moment on Chillie’s lips. For a moment Arnold was at a loss to interpret this sign of triumph, then he understood. “It’s his game to set Jerry against his parents,” he thought. “Once he gets the boy to London with him, he knows we shan’t let him starve.” Clearly it was Arnold’s line to combat this by being as pleasant, friendly and agreeable as possible. He smiled and said in a cheerful, kindly tone:
    â€œSorry if I was a trifle heavy-handed. It’s as Jerry