Fortune's Lead (7 page)

It was unfortunate that while I was pouring out the tea from an elegant silver tea-service (at Henry’s request) I should find myself suddenly caught up with memories of Gypsy Rose. The drawing-room was as beautiful as the rest of Thurlanger House—and here was I, teapot graciously poised, feeling like someone in a suitably captioned
Totter
photograph ... Hastily, I made myself listen to what Henry was telling me about Beemondham and its district’s inhabitants. He wasn’t—no, of
course
he wasn’t—talking as if after a suitable period had elapsed, these were going to be my permanent neighbours...

‘Some more cake, Shah?’ Henry enquired solicitously—making a helpful interruption to my attempts to wrestle with the unreal picture of my future which kept creeping up on me. Or not such a helpful interruption: forced to look at him, I almost blushed. At this rate I would have to repeat six sensible things to myself every day before breakfast. Having ascertained that I didn’t want any more cake, he suggested that Esther showed me round the grounds—if I wasn’t too tired—and made a point of saying, drily, that he
didn’t
mean I’d want to be shown round nothing but the stables.

‘But you can’t show anyone round without spending time with the ponies,’ Esther objected.

‘
You
may not. Some people’s tastes differ.’

‘Yes, but honestly, Pa—’

‘Shah has already assured me she doesn’t know one end of a horse from the other. Which comforts me very much,’ Henry said firmly—an approach which, though truthful, didn’t strike me as being particularly helpful. Sure enough it wasn’t: Esther got up from the chair in which she would (if she hadn’t already been sharply corrected for it) have been lounging.

‘It had better be you that shows her round, then,’ she said, casually rather than defiantly. ‘I’ve got to go down and see to Cora. Told Phil to groom her, but I want to check she didn’t pull anything when we stumbled at Denbigh Corner. Poppy Tetley swears she’s seen snares laid down there, but—’

‘Does the conversation have to be entirely agricultural?’

‘Well, you know the trouble the Tetleys have had with poachers! The time Rufus broke a leg—’

‘If you’re going,’ Henry said, repressing a shudder, ‘please go.
If
you find you can spare the time, dinner will be at eight—and please change into something.’

‘Okay. Charlotte already told me she didn’t know about horses, but you don’t have to keep her in ignorance, do you? Don’t let him bully you, Shah—I never do,’ Esther said impishly, adopting her father’s nickname for me as casually as he had originally given it. She swaggered out, giving me the feeling that she was accentuating a stable-boy walk particularly to annoy; and Henry raised his eyebrows at me with a look of patient resignation.

‘You see, my dear—I did warn you, didn’t I? We shall have to do something to make the situation bearable. And don’t, I beg of you, let her persuade you to learn to ride! Unless you really feel you want to. But you might develop the same passion, which would be dreadful!’

‘I—I shouldn’t think I will. Who’s Rufus?’

‘A horse. Of course. James Tetley broke his collarbone, but that wouldn’t have been considered worthy of mention. But let’s talk about more civilized methods of transport. I’ve arranged to have an Austin Mini delivered for you to drive. I hope you’ll like it: it should be here tomorrow. And then we’ll start thinking about these parties we’re going to give. I haven’t told Esther about them yet—she affects the despise anything social—but
we
shall do our best to enjoy ourselves, shan’t we?’

I had already considered telling Henry that I was sure I wouldn’t be able to influence Esther and that he might as well send me home—but, faced with his having ordered a car for me to drive, and with his smiling assumption that I was ready and willing to organize his social events, I was silenced. I could hardly back out after a mere two hours ... I wondered yet again, uneasily, what I had let myself in for, but at least I would have to
try.
Obediently, and feeling more than a little shy of him now I was here on his home ground, I let him take me and show me round. There was plenty to see—the rest of the house, which included a very fine library; the gardens, running down from a terrace at the back of the house; the garage, where my car (it was apparently to be
my
car) would be kept with Henry’s larger one, and with Kevin’s. Ganner, I gathered, looked after the cars as well as the stables: he lived in a flat over the garage. Mrs. Mott, together with Mr. Mott who had charge of the gardens and their son Phil who helped in the stables, lived in a cottage in the grounds. It was all very well run and sounded practically feudal; but with Henry putting me at my ease I began to calm down. He had a way of making it seem that it wouldn’t, after all, be impossible—that in fact, the whole scheme would be enjoyable...

I didn’t see Esther again until dinner. Remembering that Henry had told his daughter to change, I put on a woollen frock (new, and distinctly smart) and tried not to wonder whether in fact as a secretary I shouldn’t expect to eat with the servants. (The feudal atmosphere was influencing me.) At the moment I was being treated more like a guest: Henry greeted me at the foot of the stairs when I came down, and I gathered that we would have sherry in the hall, dinner in the dining-room, and coffee in the library. When Esther arrived, she was still in her thick sweater, though she had changed her skirt, and I saw Henry frown. She said in her husky, casual voice that she hadn’t been able to find a dress she liked—and then winked at me when his back was turned, so that I suddenly remembered her arm and felt, with a twinge of conscience, that promise or no promise I probably ought to have told someone she was hurt. However, it didn’t seem to be affecting her very much, and she had said she would let me re-dress it in the morning; so I stopped battling with my conscience, ate the excellent meal provided by Mrs. Mott, and listened to Henry being, as usual, thoroughly entertaining.

The fourth place laid for dinner—Kevin’s—remained empty, and I found myself thankful. It was enough to get used to Esther—and Henry—without him as well, for the moment. He still hadn’t come in when we moved to the library for coffee, and since Henry gained from me the admission that I knew how to play chess, we had a game—at which he beat me thoroughly. Esther went up to bed at ten, and shortly afterwards I went too: Mrs. Mott, I was told, would have seen that a hot water bottle had been put into my bed, and I was to feel free to make myself a hot drink in the kitchen quarters if I wanted one. Henry announced his intention of retiring early too, so the household went its separate ways still without Kevin—who was, I supposed, out for a gay evening somewhere. I had been tired when I went to bed, but the unfamiliarity of everything made me feel wakeful and I decided I would go down and make myself a hot drink after all ... and try to feel that I really belonged here. The kitchen when I reached it had a comforting air, which I tracked down to the fact that it had the atmosphere of a place where people actually
worked.
That was a great deal nearer to what I was used to—even if the frilly nylon dressing-gown I was wearing didn’t seem to suit it. I made myself some cocoa, told myself not to be awed by the fact that I was in a house which still kept an actual green baize door between living quarters and kitchen quarters, and was edging my way carefully through that door so as not to spill my drink when I heard voices.

Esther’s. She must be on the stairs, above me. She was saying crossly, ‘It’s only a bandage, blast you—and it’s perfectly all right! Why on earth did you have to come in just as I was coming down for a book?’

‘I suppose you came off that mare of yours again. Who saw to it for you? You’d better let me have a look at it.’

That was a voice I recognized, as well: deep, rather scornful. Kevin Thurlanger. He went on, ‘If you can’t keep your seat, brat, you oughtn’t to go out—I’ve told you before about taking the big ones on that little mare!’

‘Oh, stop prosing!’ Esther said angrily. ‘
You’ve
been off enough times—oh yes, you have, what about the Bessemer Show? Thunder had you right over the top of the jump, and I could have
cheered
! Anyway, Pa’s new secretary did it up for me, so I
don’t
need your services, thanks! She learnt how to bandage by watching television, or something—’

‘If
she
did it, it’s probably filthy. She wouldn’t have the first clue. And incidentally, she’s going to have to go,’ Kevin Thurlanger said curtly, while I froze in my doorway with angry disbelief, the surprise of it keeping me still. Of all the high-handed nerve—!

‘Oh, why?’ Esther asked with interest. ‘I thought she was all right—I mean, she’s a bit—’

I came out of the shadows fast: it was either that or returning to the kitchen until they had moved from the staircase, and I wanted a word with Mr. Kevin Thurlanger. I could see him now, half way up the stairs, with Esther in front of him. ‘Yes, do tell me why I’ve got
to
go, Mr. Thurlanger,’ I said icily to his back view. ‘I should be
most
interested!’

He swung round at the sound of my voice. If I had hoped to disconcert him, I’d been optimistic: he stood there—around six foot two of him—looking as supercilious as he had at our first meeting, and regarding me with narrowed eyes. He looked, in fact, quite a proposition for anyone to take on—as broad-shouldered as a boxer, but a great deal handsomer, with one of those classic profiles reputed to make women swoon, and a very determined chin. I wasn’t swooning. ‘You were saying, Mr. Thurlanger?’ I repeated, in a voice which was growing icicles. ‘I don’t recall your uncle showing signs of regret—so far!—but no doubt he does
everything
you tell him!’

‘Essie, go back to your room. I’ll come and see to your arm later,’ Kevin Thurlanger said curtly over his shoulder to his cousin.

‘Not me, if you two are going to fight—’

‘This isn’t a game, brat. I have things to say to Miss—Armitage, isn’t it?’

‘Shah,’ Esther said helpfully, without moving.

‘Miss Armitage, as far as Mr. Thurlanger’s concerned,’ I said frigidly. ‘And you needn’t worry about Esther’s arm, Mr. Thurlanger—I can assure you it’s clean, not serious, and properly bandaged! A technique at which I’m quite competent, thank you!’

‘Wonderful what television’ll teach you nowadays,’ Esther said chattily. She sat down on the stairs, showing how determined she was not to depart. ‘Go on, Kev, let’s hear why Shah’s got to go. I thought meself you were being a bit bossy again—but I warned her we all are, in this house! Mottie said you wouldn’t like sharing your bathroom, but you can’t throw a girl of Pa’s out because of that!’

I wasn’t sure that I liked the phrase ‘a girl of Pa’s’—but Esther had at least reminded me, just in time, that I wasn’t officially a trained nurse. I took a sharper hold on my temper, and glared at Kevin Thurlanger. It ought to have been effective; but rather than backing away, he came slowly down the stairs towards me. I became abruptly conscious that I was dressed, not in something thick, efficient-looking, and suitable for glaring at young men in, but a frilly (though fortunately not transparent) nylon dressing-gown. In fact, he had me at an unfair disadvantage—unless, of course, I threw my cup of cocoa at him...

I was still deciding whether the effect would be good enough to be worth the waste of cocoa when there was an interruption. A door opened on the gallery above us, and Henry’s voice, sharp with displeasure, called all of us to order.

‘There seems to be a remarkable amount of noise going on. Esther, what are you doing out of bed? Ah, Shah, my dear, it’s you down there. Kevin, is it really necessary to wake everyone up when you come in?’ Looking up to see Henry gracing the gallery with his presence in an opulent-looking brocade dressing-gown, I noticed that Esther, on the stairs below him, hastily hunched her shoulder to conceal the betraying bandage showing below her pyjama sleeve. Kevin Thurlanger, to my pleasure, looked disconcerted. I was still feeling angry enough with him to be incapable of making explanations. The silence stretched for a second: then Henry spoke again, patiently, but in the unmistakable voice of authority.

‘Well, Kevin, do you intend to go on making a disturbance?’

‘I’m going into the kitchen to find myself something to eat,’ Kevin Thurlanger said shortly—and went. As he passed me, he managed to make me feel small without condescending to bestow me a glance. I almost tossed my head, and began to move up the stairs as Henry spoke again.

‘Esther, you’re on your way to your room, I suppose?’

‘I asked Shah if she’d mind getting me a hot drink. She’s going to come and talk to me while I drink it,’ Esther said, lying cheerfully and without a blink. As I reached her, she jumped up and slipped her bandaged arm through mine. Abruptly I was aware of the reason for the he: her bandage was now effectively concealed by my full sleeve. As we passed her father she said brightly, ‘ ’Night, Pa!’ and led me along with her, not before Henry had managed to give me a look of approval which made my conscience twinge again. And then we were inside Esther’s pretty bedroom, and she was giving me a grin full of complicity.

‘
That
worked,’ she said happily. ‘It’s all right, you can go again as soon as you like, but I’d never have got past him otherwise! Looks as if you’re going to be quite useful, so I shall tell Kev he
can’t
try and throw you out! But Pa won’t mind if you fight with Kev, and
I
shan’t either, so you can go right ahead. In fact it’ll be amusing—I rather wondered what he’d make of having you around!’