Read Online Neither Five Nor Three (Helen Macinnes) by Helen MacInnes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Helen MacInnes
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trust me.” His grip tightened round her, almost desperately.
* * *
It was another evening to remember happily—a long, deliberate dinner with gay talk and good humour. Scott’s depression had vanished completely. Now, sitting over their coffee cups in the almost deserted restaurant (it was a small French place where the proprietor was glad to see Americans being leisurely over his excellent food), Scott was reminding her of their visit last summer to Mexico. This summer, he was saying, they’d try Canada in August for some fishing. Or they might go in September and make it a honeymoon trip.
“And spend it hunting?” Rona asked, not quite sure about that. A hunting camp wasn’t exactly the best place to wear charming negligees. It would be a flannel honeymoon—not lace and chiffon. “Isn’t September too early for the hunting season?” Yet, she remembered, Scott had gone on hunting trips to Canada in previous summers, so her ideas about seasons must be all wrong.
“Perhaps we’d better leave that for another time,” Scott said. “This year, we may have to economise a little.” He smiled. “You won’t mind?”
She shook her head. Why would he always assume that she judged everything on its money value? Then she thought that it was wonderful to have a man who was so modest about his own value, and she was ashamed of her irritation. “We’ll have a busy summer,” she said. “So much to plan for... Oh, Scott, your father and Peggy and Jon are going to be so pleased.”
He laughed. “We aren’t setting the date for their benefit, are we?”
“No. But they all wish us well.” She added happily, “I’m glad your father likes me. It makes everything—easier.”
“Now, don’t start planning to get me on to the staff of the Clarion ,” he teased her.
“I wasn’t,” she protested. “I know you’ve made up your mind about that.”
“I have.” Then, leaning forward on his elbows, watching her large dark eyes, he asked, “What do you really think about my decision to work in New York?”
“I admire it,” she said truthfully. “Yet, I’m sorry in some ways.”
“For Dad’s sake?”
“No, darling.” She smiled. “I think of you most of the time.”
“What’s wrong with the Morning Star ? Don’t you like my working there?”
“I just thought that you didn’t particularly like the Star .”
“I’ve got to make money, somehow, you know.”
She hesitated. Then she put into words, at last, the thought that had troubled her for some months. “If you don’t like newspaper work, honey, why don’t you give it up?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “When I came out of the army, I thought I’d try it,” he said awkwardly. He watched her face. “Besides, you are wrong. I don’t dislike newspaper work. There are worse jobs. It’s just so damned tedious to begin with. Nothing but police courts and fires. Routine stuff.”
“Perhaps they’ll give you a break soon and let you handle bigger things.” Foreign news, that was what Scott really would enjoy. That was what he wanted, she knew.
“Perhaps,” he said moodily. “Oh, well. I’d rather have things as they are. If I had joined the Clarion , everyone would have said it was my father who gave me the breaks. He’s had an easy life. Plenty of money. Inherited his father’s newspaper. It is about time that one man in our family stood on his own feet.”
“But your father has! Why, he’d never be standing where he is today, if he hadn’t climbed there. By himself. And that’s what he wanted you to do. He wanted you to begin at the bottom and work up, as he did. And if you were good enough, you’d have been given a chance to show what you could do. It’s absurd to say that you shouldn’t be given a chance, just because you are his son. You ought to have the same chance as any other reporter on his paper.”
“You say he began at the bottom, like any other reporter. I say he was still the editor’s
* * *
It was another evening to remember happily—a long, deliberate dinner with gay talk and good humour. Scott’s depression had vanished completely. Now, sitting over their coffee cups in the almost deserted restaurant (it was a small French place where the proprietor was glad to see Americans being leisurely over his excellent food), Scott was reminding her of their visit last summer to Mexico. This summer, he was saying, they’d try Canada in August for some fishing. Or they might go in September and make it a honeymoon trip.
“And spend it hunting?” Rona asked, not quite sure about that. A hunting camp wasn’t exactly the best place to wear charming negligees. It would be a flannel honeymoon—not lace and chiffon. “Isn’t September too early for the hunting season?” Yet, she remembered, Scott had gone on hunting trips to Canada in previous summers, so her ideas about seasons must be all wrong.
“Perhaps we’d better leave that for another time,” Scott said. “This year, we may have to economise a little.” He smiled. “You won’t mind?”
She shook her head. Why would he always assume that she judged everything on its money value? Then she thought that it was wonderful to have a man who was so modest about his own value, and she was ashamed of her irritation. “We’ll have a busy summer,” she said. “So much to plan for... Oh, Scott, your father and Peggy and Jon are going to be so pleased.”
He laughed. “We aren’t setting the date for their benefit, are we?”
“No. But they all wish us well.” She added happily, “I’m glad your father likes me. It makes everything—easier.”
“Now, don’t start planning to get me on to the staff of the Clarion ,” he teased her.
“I wasn’t,” she protested. “I know you’ve made up your mind about that.”
“I have.” Then, leaning forward on his elbows, watching her large dark eyes, he asked, “What do you really think about my decision to work in New York?”
“I admire it,” she said truthfully. “Yet, I’m sorry in some ways.”
“For Dad’s sake?”
“No, darling.” She smiled. “I think of you most of the time.”
“What’s wrong with the Morning Star ? Don’t you like my working there?”
“I just thought that you didn’t particularly like the Star .”
“I’ve got to make money, somehow, you know.”
She hesitated. Then she put into words, at last, the thought that had troubled her for some months. “If you don’t like newspaper work, honey, why don’t you give it up?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “When I came out of the army, I thought I’d try it,” he said awkwardly. He watched her face. “Besides, you are wrong. I don’t dislike newspaper work. There are worse jobs. It’s just so damned tedious to begin with. Nothing but police courts and fires. Routine stuff.”
“Perhaps they’ll give you a break soon and let you handle bigger things.” Foreign news, that was what Scott really would enjoy. That was what he wanted, she knew.
“Perhaps,” he said moodily. “Oh, well. I’d rather have things as they are. If I had joined the Clarion , everyone would have said it was my father who gave me the breaks. He’s had an easy life. Plenty of money. Inherited his father’s newspaper. It is about time that one man in our family stood on his own feet.”
“But your father has! Why, he’d never be standing where he is today, if he hadn’t climbed there. By himself. And that’s what he wanted you to do. He wanted you to begin at the bottom and work up, as he did. And if you were good enough, you’d have been given a chance to show what you could do. It’s absurd to say that you shouldn’t be given a chance, just because you are his son. You ought to have the same chance as any other reporter on his paper.”
“You say he began at the bottom, like any other reporter. I say he was still the editor’s
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