"Military discipline eh? Oh well I don't suppose a bit of that again'll hurt him."
"A taste of the old Scrubs more likely" she replied with a pure and apparently genuine Cockney intonation. He glanced curiously at her.
She beamed on Mr Abbot.
"My darling" she said. "I almost rather feel I may have had the most miraculous escape."
"How's that?"
"But haven't you often noticed the way some people seem doomed to bring terrible great trials on themselves? Dear old John, I can admit now, is just one of those."
"You're arguing against yourself Liz."
"How, dear?"
"You meant Jane would be his trouble didn't you?"
"Well who else? Saving your presence of course."
"And was he also doomed when he kept company with you?"
She laughed.
"How about yourself then, now darling?" she demanded.
"Prefer to choose my own disaster" he replied.
"And have you?"
"Looks very much like" he agreed. She laughed delightedly.
"Oh I'm truly beginning to feel as if I'd escaped" she cried.
"Careful Liz, they'll think we're despising 'em."
"Well aren't we?"
"I'm not."
"Oh cheer up Richard. They can't eat us."
"No but we should keep things in decent order" he explained.
"Whatever you say my dear" she agreed. "Mayn't I even smile?"
"You've got a lovely smile Liz."
"Good heavens a compliment at long last and from you Richard! Now I don't wish to pry but how exactly did Jane write, when, you know, what we've just been talking about?"
"Four days ago you mean?"
"When else?"
"Why d'you want to be told Liz?"
"Because of course I'd like to find out if she dictate John's letter."
"Couldn't say" he objected.
"To compare yours with the one John wrote me" she explained.
"Compare notes" he said with no apparent enthusiasm. "I'm not sure Liz. I mean we were both given our marcing orders in those letters weren't we? If we put our heads together it might be like a dog going back to his own sick almost."
"Don't be disgusting! I'd like to be sure that's all."
"But of what?"
"Why Richard I explained all that. To make certain Jane told him every word to say."
"Oh I don't know, Liz" he temporized.
"I don't know about you I agree" she rallied him. "Of course long before I'd received this ridiculous screed from John I'd told the man till I was blue in the face that it could be no go between us where I was concerned and what he wrote really only took notice that at last he'd had to admit l was right."
"Never was good enough for Jane" Mr Abbot admitted with a show of reluctance.
"My dear Richard sometimes yon actually fish for compliments."
"I'm not, on my honour."
"Oh yes yon are and on this occasion you'll be unlucky. All I'll say is, yon may never recover from the shock of Jane Weatherby throwing you over and your life may be finished."
He laughed. "Oh well" he said.
"That's betters." She laughed. "So now what?"
"They don't look too cheerful at that do they?" he observed, watching the couple.
"Oh they won't find it all a bed of roses" she assured Mr Abbot. Upon which she saw Pascal hurry towards John Pomfret's table.
"Watch this!" Liz begged Dick Abbot.
"Don't stare too hard" Abbot implored.
"Ah Madame and Mr Pomfret" Pascal cried in his voice which did not travel beyond the table he addressed. "So great my pleasure to me Madame. It is so long since Madame and Monsieur lunch together here on this day like this."
" Pascall" Mrs Weatherby cried in turn and her tones carried so that one or two looked up from their meals near by. She reached a jewelled right hand across to where he stood bent forward and he took it. Her great eyes seemed to melt. "Why are all the happiest hours of my life bound up with you here Pascal?" she almost purred.
He bowed. "You are too kind" he said. "And is everything as you wish, Mrs Weatherby?"
"More than you'll ever know" she answered.
"Then can one hope?" the man began and paused to let go of her hand with a pleasing appearance of regret. "My English is still not so good" he went on. "Can we look forward to many of these luncheons with you and Mr Pomfret Madame?"
"I think so, yes Pascal" Jane beamed upon him.
"Because you understand it makes like old days to see Monsieur here again with Madame." At which he bowed once more and withdrew dexterously backwards with his startling gaze fixed on the lady as though he might never see another promise of heaven.
"Oh John I do feel very happy" Mrs Weatherby exclaimed in a low voice. John Pomfret could see tears in her eyes. "Oh darling isn't it nice that everyone cares about us?"
He smiled with evident affection. " Pascal knows" he announced.
"Of course he does!"
"But how Jane, so soon?"
"From my face naturally you great stupid" she laughed and got the mirror out of her bag to study her great eyes. Under the table he pressed Mrs Weatherby's ankles between his own. "Don't you think I look different? My dear my skin is a new woman's."
"Nonsense" he said lovingly "it always was."
"Oh I do sometimes thank God you're blind and I pray you'll keep so."
"My eyes are all right Jane."
"They're beautiful ones" she assured him "and beautifuller still while they don't know what they miss by staring at me with your particularly sweet expression."
"Why?" he asked with a smile and began to look about him. "Am I missing a lovely girl?"
She laughed and then she sighed. "There you go again, hopeless!" she said with great indulgence. "But I do love you so" she added. "Although you can tease me so dreafully!"
A FEW days later Philip Weatherby came back to the flat after work to find his mother alone over a finished cup of tea.
"I say Mamma" he began "what's this about Mary throwing up her job?"
"I wouldn't know dear. She never talks much to me."
"I thought Mr Pomfret might've mentioned, perhaps?"
"Philip" his mother said equably "when will you realize that John and I could have other topics besides Mary and yourself?"
"Sorry" he put in at once. "I just had a thought."
"Would you mind if she did?" Mrs Weatherby inquired in a lazy way.
"Be quite surprised that's all."
"Why?"
"I don't know really except our work does seriously mean something to us. Not like Mr Pomfret with his absolutely endless complaints every time you meet him."
"Perhaps he's been at his task longer dear" the mother said. "Anyway I do wish you wouldn't stay quite so critical of my friends as you've seemed to lately. What's come over you?"
"Am I being tiresome? I apologize. It's just that I don't appear to know what's going on around any more much. Nobody tells me a word nowadays."
"I do."
As he leaned against the fireplace he smiled down on her in what might have been a superior manner.
"Oh you're different" he assured Mrs Weatherby.
"But what makes you wonder about Mary throwing the job up when only a few weeks ago you stood there and told me you didn't care to marry the poor girl?"
"Did I go so far? I'd forgotten. I don't think I'd quite say it now Mamma."
"Well Philip for all your generation being so serious while we're just flighty in your eyes, you certainly seem to have more difficulty in making up your minds than we do."
"Oh come" he replied. "Are you fair? Couldn't it be at my age that one has more opportunities, and anyway we don't have your responsibility yet."
"Yes" she sighed "I expect you're right. I didn't mean to be nasty, Philip. Yet things do still happen to people my age you understand."
"They certainly would to you if you let them!"
"What are you insinuating now Philip?"
"Just that you look more like a sister than my mother. I bet you could marry again whenever you wanted."