Read Online Run! by Patricia Wentworth - Free Book Online Page A

well, I don’t know what I’d have said. Mother had been in business herself, and she always said, ‘You can’t afford to make enemies with your tongue—you’ve got to keep friendly all round no matter what your feelings are.’ And you can’t say it’s not good advice—can you?”
    James said he thought it was very good advice.
    â€œWell, it’s all that kept me from telling Mr. Jackson what I thought about him,” said Miss Callender frankly. “Mind you, Mr. Elliot, I’ve never been friends with him like I have with you, but we’ve been quite friendly. I’ve been to the cinema with him once and again—that time Ernie was treating me so badly—and I won’t say he wasn’t quite all right though a bit too pleased with himself for my taste, but I couldn’t have believed he’d have done a right-down mean kind of action like taking the credit for somebody else’s job.”
    James laughed.
    â€œWell, he could hardly expect to pass for me—could he?”
    Miss Callender rolled her eyes.
    â€œThat’s where the fog came in. This Mr. Hazeby asked particularly would he know the young lady if she was to meet him somewhere, and Mr. Jackson coughed and cleared his throat, and he said he couldn’t be sure, what with the fog and all. Well, then this Mr. Hazeby said that it was the same with the young lady, and what about each of them wearing a buttonhole and meeting just outside Broadcasting House. And Mr. Jackson said that would do very nicely, but he would hold his handkerchief in his hand instead of the buttonhole because he couldn’t be sure of getting one so late. And I heard him look round at me to see if I was taking notice, but I’d my fingers to my ears and adding up under my breath, and he must have thought I hadn’t heard. Well, I lost a bit there, but they must have fixed it up, for I heard him say—Mr. Jackson, I mean—‘All right, a quarter to seven,’ and he rang off. Well, then I said, ‘What on earth was all that about? I don’t know how you think I can do accounts with people talking all over my office.’ And he came and stood where you are now, looking as pleased as Punch, and said he’d got a nibble about a car and he was off to meet the man and have a drink with him. That was in case I’d heard anything, and I don’t know how I kept from telling him that he needn’t think he was taking me in, because he wasn’t. So then he said he was sorry about the cinema and it would have to be some other night, and I said that was all right and I couldn’t have come anyhow because I was going to the Palais-de-Danse with Len. And I did. It’s all fixed up, Mr. Elliot—about Mrs. Rowbotham, I mean. She’s going to move in over the way with Mrs. Bertram who’s a great friend of hers and’s had losses and only too glad to let her two front rooms, so we’re going to get the banns put up. And you’ll come to my wedding, won’t you? I knew you’d be ever so pleased.”

X
    The manager arrived at a quarter to ten. Mr. Jackson did not arrive at all. James had to take over two of his jobs, and was kept busy. In the afternoon he had to drive a Wolseley 25 down to Chislehurst. Still no Jackson. Miss Callender rolled her eyes and said it looked as if he had got off with the young lady.
    â€œIf she’s an heiress and he marries her—and it ought really to have been you—I suppose you’ll never forgive me, Mr. Elliot.”
    James said that nothing would induce him to carry an heiress.
    Miss Callender adjusted a curl.
    â€œWhy on earth not?” she enquired.
    â€œGirls think quite enough of themselves without having the purse-strings.”
    â€œWell, I think it would be ever so nice. I mean, suppose Lenny was to come in for a fortune, do you think I’d say, ‘Oh, no—I can’t’ and