A Brighter Tomorrow by Maggie Ford (read with me .txt) 📕

of the kindness of his heart when they had been in dire straits. If anyone had asked Doctor Deel, he would have told them that Bertram Lowe was that sort of man: kind-hearted almost to a fault, a man with an easy-going nature and a querulous wife, who could have gone so much further in his profession had he been a different person.

Bertram’s lips curled contemptuously at himself. ‘… merely that I feel such talent as she has should be nurtured,’ he concluded. ‘It seems an utter waste that a gifted person should be frustrated purely because she does not have the advantages others enjoy. Nothing more than that.’

That last was a mistake, as he saw a knowing smile appear beneath his colleague’s moustache. There came an instant need to rectify the remark, but he realized any such effort would certainly add to whatever suspicion Deel might already have begun to form.

‘But that isn’t what I wanted to speak to you about,’ he said hastily. ‘It’s not something that can be discussed on the telephone. As you know, young Michael has been tutoring Miss Jay for some time now. The thing is, I’m afraid it has prompted some feeling between them.’

He became aware of the blue eyes regarding him now with a certain amount of growing interest. He hurried on, but found it difficult to put into words that would not offend.

‘I would say that it’s beginning to develop into something more,’ he said with care. ‘A fondness towards each other? I would venture to say more than mere fondness, and I felt you should be acquainted with the fact.’

For a moment Henk Deel regarded him, then burst into a deep-toned chuckle, curbing it as those in the normally hushed room glanced up from their newspapers in startled irritation. He nodded a silent apology to those nearest to him and, retrieving his cigar from the cut-glass ashtray, leaned towards Bertram.

‘My dear chap, I know my son. I very much doubt he would find a girl from some East End slum of interest to him in the way you describe. Michael is a well-brought-up young man and eventually will find himself someone of a good family to be his wife.’

He broke off and grew thoughtful. Willy had also been well brought up, had enjoyed the very best of education, a comfortable home, an affluent parent, a brilliant career awaiting him; and what had he done? Gone off into the blue to become what people liked to call a bohemian, wearing strange clothes, consorting with even stranger companions and no doubt partaking of substances that helped heighten his empty dream of becoming a great painter, always broke and even perhaps cohabiting with a woman or two of doubtful health – God knows what diseases he could have picked up from them. Henk fought off a shudder.

‘Michael is very conscious that it would be folly to allow a fine future in medicine to be marred by such a girl,’ he said slowly. ‘Think no more of it, old chap. It is quite possible that you are growing a mountain from a molehill. They are possibly becoming good friends, nothing more.’

Even so, he would question his son when he returned home. Michael would not dream of covering it up if anything seedy was going on. And his features were as crystal: were he to tell a lie, it would show through on his face as clearly as if through glass.

‘Now, another brandy?’ he suggested confidently. ‘Where is our fine waiter… Aah!’

In the cab taking him home Bertram Lowe felt thwarted. He gazed morosely from the cab window at the passing shops and occasional kerbside stalls, all lit up and still trading, with late-evening shoppers taking advantage of the dwindling twilight.

The man was a fool!

Listening to the regular clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the cobbles, the traffic congestion of a few hours earlier having eased, he mused. If Deel was too gullible to foresee the pitfall his son was heading for, then he was a blind fool and it was up to himself to do something about the two young people. He couldn’t sit back and watch Ellie being led astray.

True, Michael Deel might have no intention of leading her astray. No doubt his feelings for her were honourable – that was until his father got wind of where it was leading and called his son to heel. If the boy was in love with Ellie, it might be hard to make him see his father’s viewpoint, but in the end a dutiful son should take his father’s advice and follow the career his father has preferred for him.

In the swaying cab Bertram suddenly felt a tinge of doubt. Had he done the right thing by going to Henk Deel? Lifting a hand, he plucked slowly at his top lip. What if things had already gone too far? If Ellie were to fall in love with him – if she wasn’t already in love – and he was persuaded that it would be wiser to end the affair for the sake of his own future, her heart would be broken. He had to protect her from heartbreak just as if she were his very own daughter. He suddenly realized that he wasn’t merely fond of her: he actually loved her like his own child.

It was a frightening dilemma. His first plan of dispensing with Michael Deel’s services had held the danger of their meeting behind his back and it had seemed a better solution to speak to his father, who would wield greater power over his son. All the man had done was shrug off his suspicions. Fool! The utter fool! It seemed to him that, whatever he did, those two would find a way to continue their more secret meetings. But if he could persuade her that Michael wasn’t all he seemed…

Bertram Lowe stopped plucking at his lip as a plan began to form in his head. He would make it his business