What`s Better Than Money

The sight of her waiting by a roaring fire, a shaker of dry Martinis on the table, and an atmosphere in the room that can only come from a woman who really cares for her man, quieted my uneasiness.

I held her close to me, my face against hers, and I was thankful she was mine.

‘You look tired, Jeff. How has it been going?’

‘Pret y hectic. There’s still an awful lot to do.’ I kissed her and then dropped into the lounging chair.

‘It’s good to be home. There’s to be a banquet on Saturday night in our honour, and Jack and I have to go on television on Sunday.’

She poured two cocktails.

‘Seems I have married a famous man.’

‘So it seems, but I know I have you to thank for it.’ I raised my glass to her. ‘You began the bridge.’

‘No – it was Chopin.’

After dinner we sat by the fire. I was in the armchair and Sarita on the floor, her head against my knee.

‘Pretty soon,’ I said, ‘we’re going to have some money to burn. Creedy asked me what I was going to do with it. I said maybe I’d build a house. Would that be an idea?’

‘We wouldn’t have to build it, Jeff. I’ve seen a place that is exactly what we want.’

‘You’ve seen it? Where?’

‘It’s that lit le cot age up on Simeon’s Hil . It’s owned by Mr. Terrel . Last year he and his wife invited me out there for dinner. Oh, Jeff! It has everything, and it’s not too big.’

‘What makes you think it’s in the market?’

‘I met Mr. Terrell yesterday. He is taking his wife to live in Miami. She needs the sun. Of course it is for you to decide, but you must see it. I’m sure you’l love it.’

‘If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me. You don’t know what he wants for it?’

‘I’ll cal him tomorrow and ask him.’

I wasn’t the only one of the firm who was planning to spend some money.

When I got into the office the next morning, Jack told me he had ordered a Thunderbird.

‘Boy! Am I going to cut a dash!’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s money for unless you spend it? And another thing: it’s time I had some new furniture. Could you persuade Sarita to do something about it? I haven’t time to look after that myself.’

‘Have dinner with us tonight and persuade her yourself. There’s talk about us buying Terrell’s cot age on Simeon’s Hil . Sarita is making inquiries this morning.’

He grinned at me.

‘We’ve arrived, pal! I’m get ing a big bang out of this.’ He gathered up a heap of papers and crammed them into his brief case. ‘I’ve got to get off. See you tonight.’

I spent the morning interviewing contractors and working out costs. While I was eating a sandwich lunch, Creedy blew in with a couple of guys, one of them carrying a Rolleiflex camera and a flash equipment. The sight of the camera brought back my uneasiness.

‘These boys are from Life,’ Creedy said. ‘I’ve given them most of the dope. They just want some photographs of you working at your desk. Osborne around?’

I said Jack was on the site.

As I was speaking the camera man let off his flash.

‘Look, I don’t want my photograph in your paper,’ I said. ‘I…’

‘He’s shy,’ Creedy said, laughing. ‘Of course he does! Who wouldn’t want his photograph in Life!’

The camera man went on popping off his flashlight. I realised there was nothing I could do about it. I did put my hand up to my face to cover my scar, but the other fellow then showed interest in it.

‘Did you get that during the war, Mr. Hal iday?’

‘Yes.’

‘We’d like a shot of it. Would you turn your face a lit le to the left?’

‘I don’t want it advertised,’ I said, curtly. ‘If it’s all right with you two, I have to get on with my job.’

I saw Creedy looking at me, frowning, but I didn’t care.

The two guys exchanged glances, then the camera man strolled to the door. The other one said, ‘You were at Holland City’s Plastic Hospital, weren’t you, Mr. Hal iday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Had a tough time?’

‘So did the others.’

He grinned sympathetically.

‘I hear you play the piano. Is that right?’

‘When I have the time.’

I had forgotten about the camera man and had taken my hand off my scar. The flash told me he hadn’t forgotten me. He moved out of the office, and the other fellow shook hands, said he had all he wanted and then he and Creedy went away.

That spoilt my day’s work. I kept thinking of the photographs that would appear in Life. I kept wondering who of those I had known in Los Angeles would recognise Jeff Halliday as Jeff Gordon and wonder.

I managed to shake off my mood of depression by the time Jack and I got home.

Sarita was excited. She had talked to Mr. Terrell who had told her he was leaving in two months’

time, and if we wanted the cottage we could have it.

Sarita had arranged for us to go out there after dinner and inspect it.

During dinner, Jack talked to her about how he wanted his penthouse furnished and Sarita promised to get it organised for him.

The three of us drove out to Simeon’s Hil . As soon as I saw the cot age, perched on the hil with a big garden and a view over the river, I fell for it.

But at the back of my mind now was a growing fear so I didn’t enthuse al that much about it.

Inside, it was as perfect as Sarita had claimed it to be. It was exactly what we wanted: three bedrooms, a big lounge, a study, a kitchen with every push button device you could think of, and a built-in bar on the patio as well as a big brick oven for barbecues.

The price was thirty thousand and it was cheap.

‘Boy!’ Jack exclaimed. ‘This is the place for you two! It’s as perfect as you could find anywhere.’

He was right, but something warned me to be cautious. I asked if Mr. Terrell would let me think it over. He said he would give me a week to make up my mind.

When Jack had left us and we were getting ready for bed, Sarita asked me if I didn’t like the cot age.

‘It’s fine, but I don’t want to rush into it. Suppose you go to Harcourt and see if he has anything like it on the market. We may as well take a look before closing with Terrell’s place. We have a week.’

The next two days passed fast enough. I was working to capacity and Sarita was house hunting. She didn’t find anything, and I could see she was a lit le impatient with me for wanting her to look. She was so sold on Terrell’s place she just couldn’t believe there could be anything to beat it.

She brought home a copy of Life. There was a biggish picture of me, sitting at my desk with the drooping eyelid and the scar very much in evidence.

The caption ran as follows:

‘ War Veteran Jeff Halliday plans to build his own house after building Holland City’s six million dollar bridge. A good amateur pianist, he plays Chopin’s Nocturnes as a relaxation after a sixteen hour stint at his desk. ’

That caption really bothered me. It was a complete giveaway if anyone who knew me as Jeff Gordon saw it, together with the photograph.

The following night was the banquet. It was an ordeal for me, but I got through it without disgracing myself.

Mathison said a lot of nice things about Jack and myself. He said the city had every confidence in us.

He had watched us come up in the world, and he was sure we were going far, and that we would make a splendid bridge, and a lot more of that kind of guff.