Neither Five Nor Three (Helen Macinnes) by Helen MacInnes Read Free Book Online Page B

the date by herself, Mr. Ettley. It’s up to the man to decide that, isn’t it?” And if I didn’t like William Ettley, she thought, I’d tell him that I’m angrier than he is with his precious son.
    “Then what’s wrong with Scott? The boy’s in love with her. That I know.” Then he shook his head sadly. “I don’t seem to understand him very well in anything.”
    Peggy was silent. What was the good of criticising Scott Ettley even to herself? She would only end by losing Rona if she didn’t fight against this dislike of Scott. She heard herself saying, almost placatingly, “Don’t worry, Mr. Ettley. Scott has his own ideas, you know that. But he and Rona will get married soon. And I shouldn’t be surprised if he changes his mind about joining your paper. I’m sure he will, some day, when he feels he has declared his independence sufficiently.”
    Ettley said quickly, with a touch of pride, “I like his sense of independence. I like the way he wants to make his own name. If he chooses to work on a paper in New York instead of getting his experience on the Clarion , well—I can understand that. I’m not trying to run his life for him. Only, I don’t feel he is happy. Not altogether. Happy with Rona, yes. But in his job? You can’t blame me for wanting to see my only son enjoying a useful happy life, can you?” He tried to smile over this sudden display of sentiment.
    “No,” Peggy said gently, “that’s what we all want to see.” She thought of Bobby, aged five. When Bobby was twenty-five would he resent advice and help? Probably. I did too, she thought guiltily. Ah, well, once Scott was married and had some children to worry about he would begin to understand his father better. She looked at William Ettley, now silent and tight-lipped. “I’ll go and rescue Paul Haydn,” she said, and made her way adeptly through the tight little crowd.
    “Paul!” she said, drawing him away from Mary Fyne and her skiing stories. “Or did you want to stay with the redhead?” she asked him laughingly as they edged their way back towards the window. “Tactless of me. But don’t worry, she’ll be around. She likes strong men with inscrutable faces.”
    “What’s been happening to women’s eyes?” Paul asked.
    “You mean the Eastern touch with black pencil? It makes them alluring, the magazines say. I’m afraid they look to me like the wolf dressed as Grandma... All the better to see you with.”
    “Reminds me of the circus. All they need is some flat whitewash over their faces.”
    “You’ve become a cynic, Paul. Why, once you—”
    “Sure. Once is a long time ago.”
    “Yes,” she said. And she looked at him speculatively. “I’m taking you to meet William Ettley,” she said. “Remember the Clarion ?”
    “Why, of course.” He was suddenly pleased. “Is he still the real old-fashioned American liberal?” He was more than pleased. He was excited. And William Ettley, turning to meet the young man (from Mr. Ettley’s point of view, Paul Haydn was very young), felt something of the good will that was offered him. He began talking, quietly, intelligently. And, like Jon Tyson, he knew how to ask questions. Paul answered them straight, admitting frankly when he didn’t actually know about this zone in Germany or that problem of military government. William Ettley liked the way he answered, and his questions became more particular. His interest was now more than that of politeness.
    Peggy Tyson waited for a few minutes, and then managed to slip away. She had to rescue Jon, this time. He always seemed to get stuck with the most predatory bores, generally women who were dashingly unattractive. Once in their clutches, he stayed caught: he was too polite to ease himself away as the other men did. No wonder that Jon disliked cocktail parties. Now he gave Peggy a look of heartfelt thanks as she arrived beside him. “Paul is looking for you, darling,” she said, smiling excusingly to the weirdly