Stronger Than Yearning. Penny Jordan
her bid. Unlike her he probably could not see the smaller man standing almost behind James Allingham and whispering urgently to him.
‘For the last time … at one hundred and eighty-five thousand pounds … going. …’
Jenna saw James Allingham frown and turn towards the dais, but his companion was still talking to him. He frowned again, very deeply, his attention distracted from the auctioneer. Jenna held her breath, waiting to hear James Allingham interrupt the auctioneer with a raised bid, but suddenly for some reason all his attention was concentrated on his companion.
‘Gone! At one hundred and eighty-five thousand pounds!’
Jenna was so engrossed in watching James Allingham that she was barely aware of what the auctioneer was saying. Across the width of the room he lifted his head and looked at her, but somehow his gaze was unfocused, as though he wasn’t really seeing her … as though he wasn’t even really aware of where he was. What on earth could his companion have said to him to take his attention so completely away from the auction? Jenna knew that whatever it was she ought to be grateful to the other man but, strangely, she felt cheated, as though somehow her victory was unfairly won — by default almost.
The auctioneer was heading towards her, claiming her attention, and when Jenna looked again James Allingham had disappeared.
The old Hall was hers! Even now Jenna could hardly believe it. She had spent the rest of the day sorting out all the formalities connected with the purchase. A telephone call to her bank had secured for her the increased mortgage facilities she would require and Jenna quailed a little as she contemplated the financial burden she had taken on. She was in no doubt about her ability to pay off the mortgage eventually, but initially it would be a struggle.
She gave a brief mental shrug. She would just have to hope for some good commissions locally in the early months.
A small voice inside her reminded her that fortune was seldom so kind. Harley would go mad, she acknowledged as she took a taxi from the estate agent’s office back to Bill’s and Nancy’s.
Instead of feeling excited, enthusiastic, she was conscious of a flat, let-down feeling. Telling herself it was merely reaction she walked towards the front door.
Lucy was sitting sulkily in front of the television. She barely glanced up as Jenna walked in.
‘Well, how did it go?’
Thank heavens for Bill, Jenna thought, sinking into the chair he indicated. ‘I got it.’
‘You don’t sound too pleased about it.’
‘I had to pay over the reserve price.’ That was the excuse she was using to herself to cover her lack of enthusiasm and it certainly seemed to deceive Bill.
‘I hope you haven’t taken on more than you can handle,’ he warned her worriedly. ‘Old houses like the Hall gobble up money.’
‘I know, but as I intend to use it as a showplace for the craftsmen I employ, I’m hoping to be able to set a certain amount of the cost off as a business expense.’ Jenna hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Her accountants had cautioned her against hoping for too much when it came to convincing the tax authorities of the authenticity of her claim.
‘Even so …’ Bill was still frowning, but he smiled briefly as Nancy came into the room carrying a tea tray.
‘I heard you come in,’ Nancy told her. ‘How did it go?’
‘She got it,’ Bill answered for her.
‘Oh. What happened to James Allingham then? He didn’t strike me as a man who would easily give up something he wanted.’
Jenna agreed with her, but she only shrugged. There had been something odd about the way James Allingham had suddenly lost interest in the bidding … no … not lost interest, she corrected herself … it had been as if something more important had demanded his attention. But what could have been more important than securing the house he had told her in no uncertain terms he intended to have?
‘I wonder where he comes from,’ Nancy mused. ‘He had a faintly American accent.’
‘I doubt that we’ll see him again,’ Jenna interrupted. Lucy had turned round to look at her and a spasm of alarm shivered down her spine as she saw the look of bitter disappointment cross the girl’s face. Was Lucy in danger of forming a crush on James Allingham? The thought was distinctly disquieting even though Jenna knew that it was unlikely that they would see him again. However, she had enough problems with Lucy already without adding any more.
‘So … what do you intend to do now?’
It was two days since the auction and Jenna was sitting in the kitchen with Bill, drinking coffee. She cupped her hands round her mug and stared thoughtfully at it.
‘I’ll have to go back to London — I intend to keep an office going there. Richard Hollis, my assistant, will run it. We’ve got several contracts on at the moment but nothing that Richard can’t handle.’ As she talked, she was mentally going over the work they had in hand. None of it was threatening to prove difficult and she felt that she could with perfect safety hand it over to Richard.
‘I can’t move in to the Hall — not yet. Far too much needs to be done, but on the other hand it’s going to be hard work supervising everything from London.’
‘Why not stay with us?’ Bill suggested.
Jenna shook her head. ‘No. It wouldn’t be fair on you and Nancy,’ she told him. ‘I’ll be coming and going all the time, using the telephone. One of the first things I’ll have to do when I get back is to find out if any of my craftsmen have contacts up here.’ She would also need a good architect, she reflected, and a sympathetic builder. Until she knew the Hall was hers she hadn’t allowed herself to think too much beyond the auction but now the auction was over and …
‘And Lucy?’ Bill questioned, watching her.
‘I took her out of school to bring her up here with me. She’s due back next Monday.’
‘She won’t like it,’ Bill warned her.
Jenna nibbled worriedly at her bottom lip. ‘I know she won’t, Bill, but what else can I do? A London day school is out. I’ve seen what those kids get up to, you haven’t. The way she’s behaving at the moment I couldn’t trust Lucy not to get in with some wild crowd.’
‘Perhaps that’s what’s wrong,’ Bill suggested quietly. ‘Perhaps you should trust her, Jenna.’
He watched her shrug and persisted. ‘Yes, I know you only want to protect her, but can’t you see? In her eyes, by refusing to talk to her about her father, by refusing to listen to her grievances, you’re refusing to believe her worthy of trust, and her views worthy of being respected.’
Bill had taught teenagers for many years, Jenna recognised, and she could also see that what he was saying made sense.
‘I don’t know, Bill. Perhaps at the end of this term, in the summer … There’s nothing I want more than to see her happy, but she says she hates Yorkshire. More to spite me than anything else, I suspect. At least at school she has her friends. I just don’t know what to do.’
She was more worried about Lucy than she wanted to admit. The way her niece had sprung to champion James Allingham had reminded her that Lucy was balanced very precariously between childhood and womanhood. With the problems that existed between them at the moment it would be all too easy for Lucy to decide to throw off the yoke of childhood and seek solace for her grievances in open rebellion.
‘She lacks a man’s presence in her life. You both do, Jenna.’ Bill’s quiet criticism wounded her, and she put down her mug, getting up and pacing angrily up and down.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Bill,’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t you start! What am I supposed to do? Go out on the streets and grab the first man who walks past?’
‘Don’t