The Elephant Girl(27)

‘A shame. Anyway, where were we? Oh, yes, a job for Helen. Let me see.’ Letitia riffled through a stack of papers on her desk, then rose and opened a drawer in the filing cabinet behind the desk, while she continued to talk.

‘As you may know, in the last eight or nine years the company has really taken off. This is reflected in our share prices and in the dividends to the shareholders. I’m sure Mother must have filled you in on that.’

A rhetorical question. Helen merely nodded.

‘Of course, you could easily live on the dividends alone,’ Letitia continued, ‘but we’d prefer your involvement. One of the strengths of Ransome & Daughters is that we’re a family company. When you have a personal stake – not just financial, but a desire to see the results of your hard work – then it really matters. I believe only family can achieve that. We’re the only ones who share that passion. Do you follow me?’

‘I think so.’

‘Would you agree?’

Helen thought of the tempestuous relationship between Mamaji and her daughter-in-law, and how they managed to run the shop together despite their obvious dislike for each other.

‘Yes, I’d agree with that.’

‘Good. We’re on the same wavelength, then.’

Letitia found the file she was looking for and slipped on a fashionable pair of reading glasses.

‘You’ll be getting our starter wage, but naturally you’ll have your dividends as well.’ She sent Helen a schoolmarmish look over the top of her spectacles. ‘I’d advise you not to mention to the other staff that you receive dividends, nor your relationship to me. We have a couple of malcontents around here, and I don’t want to be accused of favouritism.’

‘I know how to fit in.’

Letitia snapped the file shut again. ‘Good. I’ll see you on Monday bright and early. And by that I mean eight o’clock sharp. Wear jeans and a jumper or something; there’ll be some lifting involved.’ Her eyes slid over Helen’s boots and hippy skirt. ‘Later you’ll be required to dress more conservatively. My secretary will provide you with a list of where to find the kind of clothes I have in mind.’

Resentment prickled between Helen’s shoulder blades, but she pushed the thought aside, aware that her wardrobe needed some attention. Who better to make suggestions than her elegant aunt? She got up to leave.

At the time of Mimi’s death Letitia had been focusing on her career and hadn’t wanted to be saddled with the responsibility of a child. Now, in hindsight, Helen could see that Letitia just wasn’t the maternal sort and living with her might not have been so great after all. Ruth would have been okay, she supposed, but Ruth didn’t want her. Both Aggie and Letitia had said so. Sure, they’d packaged it nicely, but that was the bottom line.

For a moment the old bitterness welled up in her, then she let it go. Practical to the core, Letitia was right, it was all in the past. The issues surrounding Fay were different, but the aunts were probably a bit screwed up in each their own way. Perhaps it was time to move on from that.

She paused in the doorway and looked back at Letitia. ‘I never thought I would hear myself say this, but I’m actually glad to be back,’ she said.

Letitia smiled. ‘That’s good to hear. By the way, on Monday make sure you go round the back.’

‘Well, that’s me put in my place,’ Helen muttered and caught the look of surprise on the secretary’s face that she’d actually been hired.





Chapter Seven

Helen Stephens, Jason mused as he bagged a vinyl record for another customer, a rare gatefold Pink Floyd album.

It was a perfectly ordinary name, shared by lots of people in Britain alone. He should know, he’d spent hours googling for information on her. A waste of time.

She’d lived in the house for over a week now, and with every minute he spent in her company he became more and more intrigued by her, and convinced that she was lying through her teeth.

Which only made him even more interested. And concerned.

It didn’t help that she was so attractive either. Yesterday morning he’d watched, fascinated, as she flicked back her honey-gold hair while looking through the job adverts in the local rag with Charlie. Charlie was always job-hunting, so newspapers were usually strewn about the place.

Suddenly she’d looked up, and Jason had been treated to a smouldering look from those hazel eyes. Back off, it said, and it was like a full frontal assault on his senses. It had hit him right in the gut, or more specifically, the groin.

It disturbed him, this heat coming from her. He suspected she must know, at some level, about the affect it had on him. Her vulnerability just added to her attraction, made him want to shelter her, although he doubted she’d welcome it.