That Man Simon by Anne Weale

some minutes. It was obvious that he had not believed her excuse about washing her hair.
    What had he thought?
    The following evening, taking some letters to the post for her grandfather, Jenny met Fenella Waring also bound for the pillar box.
    ‘I met your new neighbour again yesterday. He’s a charmer, isn’t he?’ Fenella said, as they walked to the Market Gross together. ‘I’m dying to see the inside of his house. I hear he’s got some child living with him. Is he a widower?’
    ‘No, Polly is his niece. She’s an orphan,’ Jenny said briefly.
    ‘I see. Rather a bore for him, I should think. I wonder why he isn’t married?’ Fenella said speculatively.
    Glancing sideways at her, Jenny saw she was smiling to herself. Surely Fenella was not going to set her cap at Simon now?
    ‘How’s John?’ she asked abruptly.
    ‘As besotted as ever,’ Fenella said airily. ‘Don’t look so shocked, sweetie. I can’t stop him being crazy about me, can I?’
    ‘You could stop encouraging him if you don’t intend to marry him.’
    ‘But I haven’t made up my mind yet. You can’t talk.
    Everyone knows James is in love with you, but the banns aren’t up yet, are they?’
    ‘That’s our business,’ Jenny said frostily.
    ‘And John is mine,’ the older girl retorted, without heat.
    ‘Anyway, if I do turn him down, he’s much too stolid to jump in the river and end it all.’ She gave Jenny a sly glance. ‘I wouldn’t say the same of James. If you won’t have him, who will? He might do something drastic.’
    ‘That’s a foul thing to say!’ Jenny exclaimed.
    ‘Oh, don’t be so boringly goody-goody, Jenny,’ Fenella said, with an impatient jerk on Pascal’s lead, as the little dog stopped to sniff a lamp post. ‘There are enough sanctimonious hypocrites in this place already. I get so bored I could scream.’
    ‘Why don’t you go back to London, then?’
    ‘Maybe I will, and then again maybe I won’t.’ The secretive smile was playing about Fenella’s full red lips again. ‘There’s one person who doesn’t bore me,’ she said, half to herself.
    Jenny thrust her letters into the mouth of the box. She had never liked Fenella, but at that moment she positively hated her.
    ‘Good night,’ she said shortly, and marched away down the street.
    One evening the following week, Jenny got home to find her grandmother wearing her nicest dress, the one Jenny had bought her the year before for a Harvest Supper.
    ‘Hello, are you going out tonight, Granny?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes, we all are, dear. Mr. Gilchrist came over at lunch time to ask us to have dinner with him next door.’
    ‘I can’t. I’ve promised to go out with James,’ Jenny said rapidly.
    ‘Oh, Jenny, you didn’t mention it. Can’t you put it off?
    James won’t mind, I’m sure.’
    Hating herself for lying, Jenny said, ‘No, I can’t, I’m afraid. He ... he’s got tickets for a concert. You’ll have to apologize to Mr. Gilchrist for me. After all, it is very short notice, isn’t it?’
    Presently, when her grandmother was out of earshot, she rang up James and suggested that, as it was such a lovely evening, they might run over to the coast for a bathe.
    It was half past eleven when her grandparents came home, by which time Jenny was in her pyjamas and dressing-gown, having a cup of cocoa in the kitchen.
    ‘We are night-birds, aren’t we?’ Mrs. Shannon said, looking as flushed and excited as a child who had been allowed to stay up late. ‘Oh, we did have a pleasant evening, dear. Such a pity you couldn’t come. Did you enjoy the concert?’
    Jenny nodded. ‘Would you like some cocoa, Gran?’
    ‘No, thank you, dear. We had wine at dinner — Mrs.
    Rose is an excellent cook — and then a most delicious liqueur afterwards. I shall sleep like a log tonight.’
    ‘What is the house like inside?’
    ‘Oh, most attractive. I’ve never seen anything like it. All the latest modern gadgets - but not a bit bare and bleak, as