Believe This... You’ll Believe Anything

One

I saw him through the glass wall of my office as he came into the outer office. He was tall, lean, possibly in his early thirties, dark and immaculately dressed in a lightweight white suit that had been sculptured on him by the loving hands of an expert. Looking at his tanned profile, I decided he had to be a movie star. No movie producer would let a profile like this go without a struggle.

Sue Douglas, my woman Friday, was on her feet, giving him her big generous smile of welcome. Few men could resist Sue: she was one of those cuddly, warm attractive girls who make you think of Koala bears and who you want to stroke.

Her smile made no impact. He regarded her the way you would regard a fly that had dropped into your martini. Under his unfriendly stare, her smile wilted a little. He looked around the office until he saw me at my desk. We regarded each other through the glass wall, then side stepping Sue, he crossed to the door of my office and entered, closing the door gently behind him.

‘Are you in charge here?’ he demanded. That he was English, educated at Eton and Cambridge became immediately apparent. During my six months stay in England, I had learned something about the various class accents of the English and there was no mistaking this one.

‘That’s correct.’ I got to my feet and gave him my version of a smile of welcome. ‘Clay Burden. Something I can do for you?’ I waved to the client’s chair which he regarded suspiciously, then having satisfied himself it wouldn’t spoil his beautiful white suit, he sank into it.

‘You have just opened here?’ he asked and glanced around critically.

‘Yes... we have been open for exactly six days Mr....?’

He frowned at me, then lifted his elegant shoulders in a gesture that conveyed as plainly as if he had spoken, ‘For God’s sake, don’t you even know who I am?’

‘My name is Vernon Dyer. I suppose you wouldn’t know that. I am extremely well known here.’

‘You have the advantage of me.’

‘I take it you are a newcomer to Paradise City?’

‘Yes. I am from Boston, Mr. Dyer.’

‘I should have thought your agency would have chosen a local man.’

I let that one ride.

‘Is there something I can do for you?’

If there was he appeared in no hurry to tell me.

‘Is this all you have here: yourself and a girl?’

‘That’s all there is room for,’ I said. ‘The hotel would only spare so much space, but it is adequate.’

‘I shouldn’t have thought so. The American Express have a staff of fifteen.’

‘Then they are not housed in the Spanish Bay hotel which is, as I am sure you know, the most exclusive hotel in the City.’

‘I’m not interested in the hotel,’ he said curtly. ‘I am interested in getting a top class, travel agency service.’

‘Then you have come to the right place, Mr. Dyer. We don’t handle the paper work here. We are here to give information, advice and so on while our head office in Miami issues tickets, traveller’s cheques and in fact all the necessary paper work which comes to us by fast courier. For example, you may want to fly to New York. We can tell you the flights, book your seat, arrange for your ticket either to be delivered here or at Miami airport. This office gives personal advice. If that’s what you are looking for, you will get it.’

He digested this as he crossed one leg over the other. ‘I take it you will have heard of Mr. Henry Vidal?’

I was now getting a little bored with his arrogance. ‘Mr. Henry Vidal? No, I’m afraid not. His fame so far hadn’t reached Boston at the time I left,’ I said. ‘No one has mentioned the name to me since I arrived here so I have to admit Mr. Vidal doesn’t strike a note with me.’

He stared at me, not sure if I were conning him. I kept a bright look of interest on my face so he said, ‘I would say Mr. Vidal is the most important and influential man in Florida.’

‘That puts him ahead of the Kennedys, Mr. Nixon and the late Mr. Truman.’ I said gently. ‘It is extraordinarily remiss of me not to have heard his name.’

Two tiny red spots showed on Dyer’s thin cheeks and his eyes snapped.

‘Are you being impertinent?’

‘Not intentionally, Mr. Dyer. Is there something I can do for you?’

He hesitated, then said, ‘I am Mr. Vidal’s personal aide. Mr. Vidal has decided to transfer his account from the American Express to your organisation. I can’t imagine your organisation can be less efficient than the American Express. Let us hope not.’

‘I’ll be happy to do my best for Mr. Vidal,’ I said.

He studied me.

‘You probably imagine that this account will be small and difficult, Mr. Burden.’

Well, at least he had remembered my name.

‘Small or large; difficult or easy makes no difference Mr. Dyer. We are here to give service.’

He put on his fly-in-his-martini expression.

‘I hope so. Very well, consider yourself on trial. Open a checking account in the name of Vidal Enterprises. All transactions will be done through me on Mr. Vidal’s behalf.’

‘Will you give me some idea of the amount of credit involved?’

‘I have just closed our account with the American Express and settled their six monthly statement.’ He paused, watching me, then said, ‘The amount was one hundred and thirty thousand dollars.’

I stared at him, not believing I had heard aright. My startled expression seemed to give him immense satisfaction.

‘Does that mean the account would be around two hundred thousand in a year?’ I asked.

He flicked an invisible speck off his trouser knee.

‘Yes... give and take. Could be more.’

I drew in a long, slow breath. This was an account I was not going to lose.

‘You want the statements half yearly?

‘That is our method of payment.’

I wondered how head office would react to this, but if the American Express were content to carry Mr. Henry Vidal for one hundred thousand for six months, the American Travel Services would probably do the same.

‘I’ll make immediate arrangements,’ I said. ‘There are naturally a few formalities...’ I let it die and looked at him.

‘Of course.’ He took from his wallet a folded sheet of paper. ‘Here are the necessary details. Mr. Vidal’s address. The names and addresses of his attorney, his bankers and his brokers.’ He put the paper on my desk. ‘You will find everything in order. In the meantime, send me a schedule of flights for the next week to Tokyo, Johannesburg and Hong Kong. Two passengers to a flight, single. Everything V.I.P. They are to be met at the various airports by private car, to be at their disposal for six days. You will arrange luxe hotel accommodation also for six days, American plan. As soon as I get your estimate of the cost, I will give you further details. All correspondence should be addressed to me at Mr. Vidal’s residence. Have you got all that?’

I said I had.

He rose to his feet.

‘Then good day to you.’

Without offering to shake hands, he left the office, swept past Sue without seeing her and made his way along the broad hotel corridor lined with boutiques, a drug store, a branch of Luce & Fremlin, the fashionable jewellers, Saks, Elizabeth Arden and the rest of them.

I watched him out of sight, then beckoned to Sue who came in.

‘Who was that arrogant honor?’ she asked.

‘That was Vernon Dyer. We could be seeing a lot of him!’

Briefly, I explained.

Her eyes popped wide open.

‘Two hundred thousand?’

‘That’s what he said. Now to check.’ I scribbled on a pad, tore off the sheet and handed it to her. ‘Get an estimate for this lot Sue, with time schedules for next week.’ She nodded and returned to her desk.

I looked at my watch. The time was 12.35. Reaching for the telephone I called the American Express and asked for Joe Harkness, the district manager. We had already met and we liked each other. Although we were business rivals there was enough business for both agencies in Paradise City for us to remain relaxed and friendly with each other.

‘Hi, Joe. This is Clay,’ I said when he came on the line. ‘How about eating a sandwich with me at the Howard Johnson?’

‘If I think it is what it is, it’s going to cost you more than a sandwich, buddy,’ Harkness said cheerfully.

‘Okay, you thief. Come on over and I’ll buy you a steak in the grill room.’

‘That’s my boy. See you in half an hour.’ and he hung up.

I studied the paper Dyer had given me.

Henry Vidal lived on Paradise Largo where only the very wealthy had residences. He had three banks: in Paradise City, in Miami and in New York. His attorney was Jason Shackman and his brokers were Trice, Seigler & Joseph.

I joined Sue at her desk.

‘Just having a word with Rhoda,’ I said, ‘then I’m lunching with Harkness in the grill room.’

She nodded.

‘I’ll have this schedule and the estimate ready after lunch.’

I walked down the hotel corridor to The Trendie Miss boutique where Rhoda worked as one of the sales assistants. I found her alone, sitting on a stool, reading a woman’s magazine her favourite pastime.

Rhoda and I had been married now for just over two years. I had met her at the Statler Hilton. Boston at the time I was running the A.T.S. office there and she was assistant with The Trendie Miss boutique whose branches were in every major hotel in every major city. We had more or less drifted into marriage. She had a one room apartment in the high — rise where I lived. I got into the habit of driving her back from the hotel after work. There was a coffee shop in the complex and most nights we had dinner together there. After a while, when we began sleeping together off and on, I picked up her check. She was young, attractive, gay and sexy. It was her idea we should get married. ‘We’ll economise,’ she pointed out. ‘I’ll save rent.’ She didn’t tell me what I would save. I was getting tired of living on my own. I thought maybe if I married her, I would forget about Valerie; a stupid hope but I wanted very badly to forget the girl who had jilted me some four years ago. So I married Rhoda. I then made a depressing discovery. Although pretty, immaculately dressed when at work, her make-up a work of art, Rhoda was at heart a slut. Any kind of housework was her idea of hell. She wouldn’t even make our bed. So I had to hire a woman to come in each day and we still ate our meals at the coffee shop.

When I got offered the Paradise City’s A.T.S. office in the Spanish Bay hotel, Rhoda managed a transfer to The Trendie Miss boutique in the same lush hotel. Our combined earnings enabled us to live well, join the Country Club and even save money, but for me our marriage was no more than a sexual convenience combined with a tolerant association: not what I was hoping for.

‘Rhoda,’ I said, pausing in the shop’s doorway, ‘I can’t lunch with you. I have a business date.’

She dragged her eyes from the magazine.

‘Huh?’

‘I have a business lunch,’ I said patiently. I was used to repeating most things to Rhoda when she was reading.

‘Oh? Well okay. See you at six, huh?’ She went back to her reading.

I took the elevator down to the grill room bar and ordered a Scotch on the rocks, something I seldom did at lunch time. As Sam, the barman, fixed the drink, I said, ‘Ever heard of Mr. Henry Vidal?’

‘Vidal?’ He set the drink before me. ‘Can’t say I have, Mr. Burden.’

‘I’m told he is the most influential man in Florida.’

He grinned.

‘That depends who told you.’

Joe Harkness arrived five minutes later: a short thickest man, around my own age, whose merry eyes and cheerful grin belied a shrewd business brain.

‘That’s for me,’ he said pointing to my glass. ‘Celebrating, Clay?’

‘Maybe or recuperating.’ I signalled to Sam. ‘I’ve just had a visitor.’

‘I know. I had him too. Well, Clay, ol’ son, I’m sorry for you. When the s.o.b. told me he was closing the account with us, I jumped for joy.’

I stared at him.

‘Don’t try to con me, Joe.’

‘It’s a fact. I know it sounds cockeyed to be happy about losing an account worth two hundred thousand, but that’s what I am. I’ve had a gutful of Vidal and Dyer. I’ve had them in my hair for eighteen months... enough’s enough.’

‘Are you telling me the account is really worth two hundred thousand?’

‘Sure and it is creeping up. That was last year’s figure; could be more this year, but don’t imagine you have a bonanza: let me disillusion you.’ He drank half the whisky, then went on, ‘Vidal insists on six month’s credit. In other words he has the use of our money around one hundred thousand for six months. This he invests at seven percent: that gives him three thousand five hundred per six months which we lose, not having the money, before he has to pay us. He also insists on a five percent discount on all business over fifteen thousand per six months we handle for him and that gives him three thousand seven hundred and fifty which we also lose. So at the end of six months the one hundred thousand dollars in business we have handled for him only costs him ninety-two thousand seven hundred and fifty and we’re out seven thousand two hundred and fifty which in a full year comes to around fifteen thousand.’

I grinned at turn.

‘So what? You made the terms. The account is still big. What are you beefing about?’

‘Yeah... what am I beefing about? I’ll tell you. We wanted the account and we expected to pay for it. We reckoned even with a five percent discount and giving him six months’ credit we could still make a fair profit, but how wrong we were!’ He laid his hand on my arm. ‘We don’t want that steak to spoil, do we?’

I paid for the drinks and we went into the grill room.

‘Since this is on your expense account Clay, don’t let’s cut comers,’ Harkness said as he settled at the table. ‘I’ll take smoked salmon and french fries with the steak, and how about a nice bottle of something?’

I told the Maître d to make it two smoked salmons, two steaks and a bottle of California red.

‘Not Bordeaux?’ Harkness said, looking pained.

‘I haven’t got the account yet. Were you telling me you don’t make a profit out of Vidal?’

‘I won’t say that, but we’ll be lucky to make two percent which isn’t good enough if you add the headaches and by God! there are plenty.’

‘Such as?’

‘I lost the best secretary I ever had she quit after five months of Vernon. There is also the expense of keeping Vernon sweet. Then there was an assault case we had to settle out of court. Apart from these little things, Vernon is always belly aching. He’s never satisfied.’

The waiter placed plates of smoked salmon before us.

‘What assault case?’

Harkness grinned.

‘One of my reps, goaded beyond endurance, punched Vernon’s nose. Vernon sued. We settled for five thousand and lost a damn good rep.’

‘What’s this about keeping Vernon sweet?’

‘He never comes to the office. Always meets me at one of the most expensive restaurants when he wants to discuss business and he always leaves me to pick up the tab. I guess I must have spent well over four thousand dollars in eighteen months of feeding that s.o.b.’

We ate for a few minutes while I thought over what he had told me.

‘And Vidal? How do you react to him?’

‘Never seen him. All I know about him is he has a hell of a place on Paradise Largo, owns a yacht, a Rolls convertible, a pretty wife and lots and lots of the green stuff. I’ve never set eyes on him. He only circulates in the very best circles. Our Vernon does the slumming for him.’

‘How does Vidal make his money?’

Harkness finished his smoked salmon and sat back with a sigh of content.

‘He supplies demands.’

‘Come again. What does that mean?’

‘He has two hundred or so picked men working for him. They’re on the move all the time which explains the size of his travel account. From what I’m told, half these men are hunting for people who have a surplus of any damn thing: sugar, coffee, nickel, oil, ships... any damn thing. The other half are hunting for people who want these things. Vidal then gets the interested parties together, engineers the deal and picks up a fat commission. It’s a nice way to earn a living, only you have to know who wants what and who has what to sell. Vidal seems to have built up an expert organisation that really delivers. The other day I read in the paper that Libya has bought a number of obsolete destroyers from England. I’ll bet Vidal was behind that deal that has to be worth millions.’

I was impressed.

‘Dyer asked me for a schedule...’

Harkness held up his hand.

‘Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Tokyo, Jo’burg and Hong Kong. Right?’

I stared at him. ‘Go on... tell me more.’

‘That’s Vernon’s first ploy to see what kind of job you’ll do and how much you’re going to charge him. He pulled that one on me. I got out the schedule which was never used. When he means business, he’ll meet you for lunch. You’ll get nothing out of Vernon for free.’

‘Is the money safe?’

‘That’s the least of your worries. Vidal always pays up on the nail.’

‘Did you take up references?’

‘Oh, sure: all three banks and the brokers... immaculate. I’ll let you have photocopies if you want them.’

‘Do that, will you, Joe?’

The steaks arrived.

‘Let’s forget about business,’ Harkness said. ‘Let’s concentrate on these fine looking bits of bull.’

We ate for a while, then he said, ‘When are you going to give me a game of golf Clay?’

‘If you’re really looking for a beating, how about Sunday?’

He grinned.

‘Then let’s make it early. Nine o’clock?’

As Rhoda didn’t get up until midday on Sundays this would give me time to get back to prepare a late brunch. Rhoda had no idea how to cook and refused to learn and as I refused to go to the coffee shop on Sundays I got landed with the brunch and supper.

After coffee, we parted.

As Harkness got in his car, he said, ‘Any other little thing you want to know about Vidal give me a call.’ He shook his head. ‘Man, I’m sorry for you. I really mean it.’

He drove away leaving me feeling slightly uneasy.

Back in my office, I put a call through to Humphrey Massingham, the A.T.S. district general manager who was located in Miami. I told him about the Vidal account.

‘That’s an account I have had my eye on for some time Clay,’ he said, his voice excited. ‘I never thought he would move from the American Express.’

‘Harkness is happy to see him go,’ I said. ‘Could be we’re getting ourselves a headache.’

‘Two hundred thousand! I knew it was big, but not that big! We can take a lot of headaches for that amount of scratch.’

‘You mean I can.’

He laughed.

‘All part of the job,’ he said airily, ‘but you’ll need extra help. I’ll want you to concentrate on Vidal’s account. I’ll look around. We can afford additional staff now we have Vidal.’

‘Don’t be too sure you have him.’ I went on to tell him Vidal’s likely terms and what Harkness had said. This damped his enthusiasm a little.

‘Yeah... well, maybe we had better wait to see how you make out. You don’t know he’ll insist on those terms with us.’

‘You can bet Dyer will try to screw us for even a bigger discount.’

‘Five is our limit. Be firm with him.’

‘I’ll wait his first move. In the meantime, we should check the references, shouldn’t we?’

‘Oh, sure, but Vidal is big: one of the biggest. I’m sure there’s no problem from that angle. I’ll handle the references.’

‘You might query the Credit Rating people. Bankers’ references don’t mean much.’

There was a pause, then he asked, ‘Is something bothering you about this?’

‘I’m not all that enthusiastic. I don’t know why. Harkness said he was sorry for us and he meant it. I don’t like Dyer.’

‘That doesn’t mean the money isn’t sound. You leave it to me,’ and he hung up.

As I replaced the receiver Sue came in with the estimate and schedule Dyer wanted. We went through it together As usual with her work I couldn’t find faults.

‘Fine, Sue.’ I dictated a letter to Dyer, adding that formalities for opening the account were in hand and I would be writing him again. ‘Mail it right away, will you? Let’s show him we are on our toes.’

We spent the rest of the afternoon with routine work. We were kept busy until around 17.40. At the approach of cocktail time, inquiring tourists dropped away and gave us the chance to clear our desks. At 18.00 Sue said good night and hurried off home. I went along to the Trendie Miss to pick up Rhoda. She was completing a sale so I hung around in the corridor until she joined me.

‘God! My feet!’ she moaned as we walked across to the parking lot. ‘It’s fine for you, sitting all day, but I never get a chance to sit down.’

I didn’t remind her she had been sitting down reading a magazine when I had cancelled our lunch together. I was used to her moans. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.

‘Want to go to a movie tonight?’ I asked as we got into Plymouth.

‘There’s nothing worth seeing. I looked.’ She settled herself and kicked off her shoes. ‘This humidity drives me nuts. Put the air conditioner on for God’s sake!’

I put it on. At this time of the season the heat and humidity was bad but not so bad as in Miami. As I drove out of the lot and headed home, I said, ‘Ever heard of Henry Vidal?’

‘Mrs. Vidal was in yesterday. She bought belts and slacks. Our other lines are too young for her.’

‘What is she like?’

Rhoda glanced at me.

‘Why the interest?’

‘Her husband opened an account with us worth two hundred thousand a year.’

‘Wow!’ Rhoda was always impressed with big money. ‘Are you getting a rake-off Clay?’

‘No, he is. Did you see him?’

‘She was on her own.’

‘What’s she like?’

Rhoda sniffed. I’ve never known her to praise any woman or consider any woman to be as smart as herself.

‘All right, I guess, providing you like them slinky and dark. She knows how to dress. I’ll say that for her.’

‘All right to deal with?’

‘I guess. She doesn’t throw her weight around if that’s what you mean; not like most of the hags who drive me nuts.’

‘Pay cash?’

‘She has a charge account.’

‘Prompt payer?’

‘How do I know? Who cares anyway? Do hurry it up Clay. I can’t wait to get under the shower.’

An hour later, Rhoda was lying on the balcony that overlooked the canal, a martini in one hand and a magazine in the other. I had taken a shower and now mixed myself a Scotch and soda. I joined her on the balcony. I knew I wouldn’t get a word from her until it was time to go down to the coffee shop for dinner. I would have liked to have talked to her about Vidal Enterprises, to tell her about Vernon Dyer, but I knew she wouldn’t be interested. She was interested in little else except magazines and clothes.

Sitting opposite her, I thought how completely unlike Valerie she was.

Valerie had always been interested in anything I had done. She had a shrewd, intelligent mind and I had always discussed my business problems with her and she had always come up with useful suggestions.

Valerie!

Six years ago. I had become manager of the A.TS. office in the Statler Hilton, Boston. Roy Cannon, the outgoing manager (he had been transferred to New York) had met me at the airport. I had flown in from Cincinnati where I had been running the A.T.S. office at the Terrace Hilton. We had stopped in at the airport bar for a drink and to get to know each other.

‘The one thing and the only thing that gripes me leaving Boston,’ Cannon said as we propped up the bar, ‘is losing the best secretary I’ve ever had. My loss, your gain. She’s priceless and I’m not kidding. Never a moan if we work late, gorgeous to look at, terrific memory, fixes everything for you... you can’t imagine...’

Although I didn’t believe Cannon’s eulogy, I quickly discovered he hadn’t been exaggerating. Valerie Dart was everything he had said she was: tall, with long, raven black hair, big blue eyes and a wide generous mouth: she was a beauty and her efficiency was unbelievable.

Within a few days I was in love with her, but although she was friendly, there was that little coolness that warned me not to rush my fences. We worked together from 09.30 until 18.00 which meant I saw more of her than I would have done had we been married. She had her own car and when we left the office, she would give me a smile and a wave and drive away. I had no part of her private life. She never discussed what she did in her spare time. Her coolness and her correct behaviour kept me at a distance.

Finally, with thumping heart, I asked her to have dinner with me. She had looked startled, and then had smiled. ‘Thank you: that would be nice.’

I took her to a good seafood restaurant and between courses, we danced: still the coolness and I was on my best behaviour. It became a regular thing to take her out to dinner every Friday night, but when I suggested a movie on Wednesday night, she politely refused.

By then I had her in my blood like a virus. I knew there could be no other woman for me. She was the one, and even if I had to wait and wait, she would still be the one.

I stepped up the pace by giving her flowers and candy. I made the excuse it was my way of expressing appreciation for the way she helped me in the office.

Then one Friday night, some three months after I had met her, while we were dancing, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

‘Val,’ I said. ‘I’m in love with you. I think you must have guessed it by now. Could you think of marrying me? It’s what I want more than anything else in the world. I just know we could be happy together. Tell me how you feel about me. Have I a chance?’

She rested her head against my shoulder so I couldn’t see her face and we continued to dance for a few minutes, then she looked up and smiled at me. That smile made my heart leap.

‘Yes, Clay, you have a chance, but I don’t want to get married yet.’

I led her off the dance floor, out of the restaurant and on to the jetty, dimly lit by the moon.

‘Are you telling me I mean something to you, Val?’ I couldn’t believe it.

‘You do mean something to me.’ She kissed my check. ‘But don’t rush me. Let’s wait a while. If I marry you, I would want to run your home. I don’t want to give up the office for a while. Please be patient with me.’

I was too happy to sleep that night.

The following morning, I had a call from head office. Vice President John Ryner wanted to see me. Wondering what it was all about, I left Val to take charge of the morning stint — it was Saturday and we closed at 13.00 — and flew down to New York.

Ryner received me cordially and came straight to the point.

‘Clay, it’s time you took a look at the European scene. We’ve arranged for you to work at our branch in London for six months and in our Paris branch for another six months. Take the chance to polish up your French while you’re in Paris. More and more people are visiting London and Paris, and for you to be efficiently helpful you must know the up-to-date scene. I’m putting Bill Olson in your place at the Statler Hilton, but the job will be waiting for you on your return with a fifteen hundred raise. When can you get off?’

I did some quick thinking. The last thing I wanted was to be parted from Val, but she had told me she wanted time before we married and I knew she wouldn’t be rushed. With a fifteen hundred increase, we could live pretty comfortably.

I said I would go when he wanted me to go.

‘Tuesday?’

‘Okay.’ It was rushing it, but the sooner I left, the sooner I would be back.

‘Fine.’ I could see he was pleased. ‘Olson will be up on Monday. Miss Dart can show him the ropes.’ He looked at me. ‘She’s a damn good secretary, isn’t she?’

‘The best.’ I wondered how he would react if I broke the news that the agency might be losing her.

Before leaving New York, I called Boston and just managed to catch Val as she was shutting the office.

‘I’ll be back at four, Val,’ I said. ‘I must talk to you. Can you meet the plane?’

‘Yes, of course.’

I had an hour before my flight. I went to a nearby jeweller’s shop and bought an engagement ring: two emeralds and a diamond. I had it gift wrapped, then took a taxi to the airport.

Val was waiting for me. As we walked together to the parking lot where she had left her VW, she asked, ‘What was it all about Clay?’

‘Big deal,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘Let’s drive to Franklin Park. Now tell me about your morning. Anything happen?’

She could see I didn’t want to talk until we could be somewhere quiet so while she drove she told me of the morning’s activities. Business had been brisk and she had finally persuaded an elderly couple to go on a world tour.

They had been nibbling at the bait for some tune and I had almost given them up.

We left the car and walked through the rose gardens in the park until we found a deserted bench. We sat in the sun and I told her what Ryner wanted me to do.

‘I hate leaving you, Val’ I said, ‘but this will give you the chance to make up your mind. I’ll be away a year. When I get back, I hope you’ll be all set to marry me. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t for the raise. An extra fifteen hundred will come in handy to set up home, won’t it?’

She looked searchingly at me.

‘I’ll miss you Clay.’

I gave her the ring. When she had unwrapped it and opened the little box, she caught her breath, then looked at me, her eyes scared.

‘I can’t accept this Clay. No... it’s too binding. Please...’

She thrust the box at me, but I wouldn’t take it. ‘It’s sweet of you, but anything can happen in a year. I think I love you, but I do want to be sure. I don’t want to feel tied.’

I was disappointed by her reaction, but I didn’t show it.

‘You won’t be tied. Wear it on your right hand to please me. When you have made up your mind, put it on your left hand. What’s wrong with that as an idea?’

‘It’s a beautiful ring.’ She regarded it for a long moment, then took it from the box and slipped it on the third finger of her right hand. ‘There... does that please you?’ She leaned forward and we kissed. ‘Now, I am going to cook dinner for you,’ she went on. ‘I want you to know I’m just as efficient in the home as I am at the office.’

We drove back to the City, and she bought the ingredients for dinner, then she drove me to her complex.

It was a beautifully kept apartment and the dinner was superb.

We talked long into the night and when I finally left, we arranged to spend the following day — Sunday — at the Salisbury Beach reservation. It was the happiest and most wonderful week end I had ever had.

On Tuesday, leaving Bill Olson at my desk, Val went with me to the airport to see me off.

‘Wait for me, Val,’ I said. ‘It’s only for a year. Then we can set up home.’

But it wasn’t to be. I wrote every day. She had warned me she was no good as a letter writer and I didn’t get many letters from her. What I did get were affectionate and she seemed happy.

After six months in London, I moved to Paris. I found a furnished one-room apartment near the office and wrote, giving Val my new address. I hadn’t heard from her for the past three weeks and I was getting worried. A week later, just as I was about to telephone her, a registered packet arrived. In it I found the engagement ring and a brief note:

I was in a pretty bad way for some months. I did my work automatically, resisted the temptation to get drunk every night and led a lonely, miserable life. Finally, I returned to Boston. I asked Olson, as soon as we met, if he could explain why Val had thrown up her job.

‘Not an idea Clay,’ he said. ‘I wish I had. She said she was leaving for personal reasons: that’s all. You know how remote she can be. I just had to accept it.’

Four years drifted by. The ache was continuous. Then I met Rhoda. I wanted desperately to lead a normal life again and to forget Val, but my marriage to Rhoda proved no solution. It was now six years since I received the letter that took the fun and happiness out of my life and the ache for Val was still with me.

‘Clay!’

I started. My mind had been so occupied with the past I had forgotten Rhoda.

‘I’m hungry.’ She swung her pretty legs off the lounging chair. ‘What’s biting you? You look like something the cat’s sicked up.’

‘Let’s eat,’ I said. ‘Nothing’s biting me.’

I had never told her about Val. She had never asked me if there had been any other woman before I met her. She just wasn’t interested enough to bother with the past. The present was as much as she could cope with.

We went down to the coffee shop for the inevitable hot dogs and then returned to the apartment for the inevitable goggle box yawn until bed time.