Rainbow for Megan (14 page)

That afternoon Kevin suggested they all went with him to the west field. 'Got a few more bales to pick up,' he said. 'I ought to have finished it this morning, but I hadn't counted on the extra hand.' His look rested on his son, now happily demolishing a plate of jelly.

Mary grinned. 'Now you know what I have to put

up with. How would you like to have him every day?' Kevin visibly shuddered. 'You're doing a grand job, love, keep it up.'

`Coward !' accused Mary.

The girls spent a lazy afternoon watching Kevin work. The dogs had been left at the farm and put in one of the small paddocks, so Megan had no worry about Chas spotting any sheep. A picnic had been taken and as Mary poured out the tea from the flasks, Megan sat watching Kevin and Ian. Ian, seeing that his mother was otherwise occupied, had wandered over to 'help' his father. He was now attempting to pick up the fork and heave a bale of straw on to the waiting lorry. For a moment Kevin watched him, grinning, then with an expert flick of the wrist he finished the job and swung Ian up on to his shoulder.

Megan looked away quickly. One day Alain would have a son. He would act in just the same way as Kevin had done. She was not one to give way to tears, but she could have wept her heart out at that particular moment in time.

The rest of the time passed pleasantly enough, but Megan still had the worry of Chas's future on her mind as she set off home on the Sunday.

CHAS was returned to Mrs Jones on Sunday by a subdued Megan. 'I was just six months too late,' she said miserably. Then, seeing Mrs. Jones's downcast look, she said stoutly, 'We're not beaten yet. Something will turn up, you'll see.'

Ray rang her on the Monday morning before she started off to work. 'I won't be back till Wednesday, Megan. I couldn't get out of two more engagements my publisher lined up for me. Joanna's here, by the way; her husband's got some sort of conference on, so I'm detailed to take her to the dinners. Are you all right? I rang yesterday morning, but your father couldn't remember where you'd gone.'

Megan sighed. 'I could have eloped for all he knew,' she said. 'I did tell him I was visiting a friend in Devon, but he was deep in the fells, if you know what I mean. By the way, how much do you charge for an autographed book ? I sort of promised my friend one as a peace-offering because I couldn't stay for a week.'

`Considering it's for a good cause,' he replied grandly, 'I shall be delighted to oblige. By the way,

the offer's still open for you to join me. With Joanna here we'll be well chaperoned, in case a certain body raised Cain.'

Megan chuckled. 'No, thank you,' she answered. `What are you doing with yourself ?' he asked

curiously. 'You appear to be doing a bit of dashing

around.'

`Like a scalded hen,' she said. 'I'll tell you about it on Wednesday. Anything you want me to do?'

`Well, you might tell Mrs. White what's happening. I couldn't contact her, she's not on the phone. Tell her I hope to be back by six—and Megan,' he added, `don't you dare elope !'

Another chuckle from Megan and she hung up.

Megan found Mrs. White watering her potted plants in her small conservatory. She had her coat on and must have been filling in with last-minute jobs before setting off for The Foxes. She gave her the message, then duly admired the plants and started to leave; but Mrs. White was talkative. 'Have they found out where Mr. Drew is?' she asked hopefully.

Megan stared at her uncomprehendingly, her surprise evident.

`Don't you know?' Mrs. White asked, in as much surprise as Megan had shown.

`I've been away for the weekend,' Megan explained.

Mrs. White looked wise. 'Well, I suppose that

would be it,' she said mysteriously, nodding to herself. 'Mind you, I'm glad he stood no nonsense from

that Iris. Talk of the village it was, Sunday afternoon.'

Megan felt a stab of apprehension. 'What happened?' she asked quickly.

`Well,' began Mrs. White, 'it started in the local. She was there with Don Lamb, you know.'

Megan didn't want to hear any more. Her heart went out to Alain. Why had he to care for someone like Iris? She wanted to stop Mrs. White, but couldn't.

`And Mr. Drew goes in,' she continued, now in full flood, 'just nods to them and gives his order, then stands chatting to Sammy Drake, the barman, you know. Well, this Iris comes and joins him, and Mr. Drew reminds her who she came in with, quite nicely, you know, and says he's no wish to break anything up and he's just leaving anyway. Her ladyship didn't like that, receiving her marching orders like, and says how she can please herself what company she keeps. Poor Mr. Drew, can you imagine it? Sammy said he was furious, still, he keeps his temper and just walks out, leaving her to it. 'Course, by then she'd got her dander well and truly up and follows him out of the pub.' She sighed. 'Some folk haven't the sense to see when they're not wanted. No one knew what she said to him, or what he told her, but she was fit to be tied when she flounces back into the pub. Next thing that happens is that Mr. Drew goes back to Clock

House, packs a bag and takes off into the blue without telling anyone where he's going.'

Megan felt sick. It was worse than anything that had so far happened. She knew only too well how spiteful Iris could be when she put her mind to it. Whatever she had said to him must have hurt dreadfully to make Alain take off in that manner. Mrs. White droned on, but Megan barely heard her.

`Anyone with half an eye could see he wasn't interested. He's got his head screwed on, a more spiteful little besom would be hard to find ..

All this time Megan was edging towards the door. She wanted to put her hands over her ears, and in sheer desperation she changed the subject. 'Mrs. White, do you know of anyone likely to take Mrs. Jones's dog? She's joining her sister in London, you know,' she said breathlessly, hurrying on now that she had successfully stemmed the flow. 'He's such a pet, and it would be nice if we got someone local to take him, rather than advertise, that is.'

Mrs. White's mouth fell open, and she made a valiant effort to bring her mind back from the village highlight to a more mundane subject. She frowned. `That big dog, you mean ?'

Megan nodded, vastly relieved that her ruse had served its purpose.

`Well, I don't know. 'Course, my sister's girl lives at Wroxford, not local as you might say, but not

more than ten miles away, they've a smallholding. Can't promise, mind you, but I'll have a word with her. As it's a pedigree they might consider it. Always one for a bargain, that Jean is.'

Megan's already lacerated feelings took another plunge into the depths. A bargain, she thought bitterly. Well, that was one place Chas wouldn't be going, not if she had anything to do with it. 'Er ... ask them to contact me, will you?' she said hastily. `If they're interested.'

She didn't really remember getting home. Her mind was so full of Alain that her fingers curled round the steering wheel and she gripped it hard, wishing it were Iris's neck. Alain was proud, he was not likely to seek reconciliation, and it looked as if Iris had got the message at last. She felt the tears spring up behind her eyes. She had had all that, a fine man like Alain at her feet and she'd ruined everything by sheer vanity.

Pulling up in the drive outside the house, Megan did not get out immediately, just sat gazing ahead of her, not seeing anything in particular. What about Alain? For goodness' sake, where was he? If only she could go to him. She closed her eyes. He wouldn't want her. He'd asked for her help, hadn't he, and she'd refused it. A few minutes later she took a deep breath. She would ring Clock House. Mrs. Smith would tell her if there had been any news; she had

to do something.

She rang through as soon as she got into the house. Her nervous fingers gripped the cord of the telephone, twisting it round into a tangle as she heard the purring ring at the end of the line. Mrs. Smith answered, and Megan spoke hastily. 'Is Mr. Drew back?' she asked. `It's Megan here.'

`Just a moment,' Mrs. Smith said, and there was a tiny silence. Megan, suddenly realising what was happening, said hastily, 'I didn't want to worry him, Mrs. Smith, I just wondered ..'

`Did you?' said Alain sourly.

`Are you all right?' Megan asked anxiously, feeling untold relief flow over her.

`I rather think I ought to be asking that question, don't you?' he answered harshly.

Megan blinked, not understanding—unless he had tried to contact her and she had been away. She thought she had better explain. 'I've been away,' she began.

`Is that supposed to surprise me?' he cut in. `Because it doesn't. I know where you've been, too,' he continued bitingly. 'I thought you had more pride. I hope your father's proud of you! Why did you come back? He's still in London, isn't he? Or did you get your fingers burnt at last?'

Megan swallowed. Now what had she done? He sounded as if he hated her. Because she had let him

down over Iris? She gulped again.

`Oh, Alain ... you don't understand ...' She couldn't go on, a sob caught at the back of her throat.

understand all right,' he ground out. 'Heaven knows I tried to warn you. Well, it's done now. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of my sight !'

The phone was slammed down with a force that made Megan jump, and she stood blinking the tears back and staring at her receiver, his words rebounding all around her. He had never spoken to her quite like that before. He did hate her ! She had so often received a telling-off, but never accompanied by such bitterness. Slowly the words made sense. He actually thought ... She caught her breath. He thought she had gone to London with Ray, and that wasn't all he thought ! Had Iris so poisoned his judgment that he could no longer think straight, and like a wounded bear struck out at the nearest object? She caught her lip in her teeth and made a headlong rush to her room.

Two days passed, and the news filtered through the village that Iris had got engaged to Don Lamb. When Megan heard the news her thoughts flew to Alain. Would he now make a move to get Iris back? Was that what it really was in aid of ? Don worked

in his uncle's estate office and was probably earning good money with the chance of inheriting the business one day, but even so, he was nowhere near Alain's income bracket. Megan did not think Iris had fallen for Don; money and position headed the top of her shopping list, and she had wanted Alain.

She felt sorry for Don, certain he was being used as a pawn by Iris to gain her real objective. Would Alain lower his pride and snatch the woman he wanted? The Main she had once known would have done so. He would have brooked no interference, especially when the woman concerned had shown she was agreeable to such happenings.

Apart from the misery of worrying about Alain, Megan still had the worry of Chas on her mind. Now there was less than a week to find him a home. When she collected him that evening, she was forced to agree that the time had come for the last plan to be put into action. 'I should be able to get it into Friday's Echo,' Mrs. Jones said.

Megan then told her about Mrs. White's niece. 'To be honest, I didn't quite like the sound of her, but you never know.'

Mrs. Jones frowned. 'I think I know who she means. They have a place in Wroxford. They buy and sell things, I think.' She shook her head. 'I don't think so, dear, do you? I've a feeling he would soon be up for sale.' She looked quickly at Megan. 'I've

been thinking,' she said quietly. 'He might be better off, you know, if we ...'

Megan started. 'No! she said quickly. 'It's unthinkable. Please don't do anything yet. Mr. Hallett's back tomorrow. He might know of someone, and he did take to Chas, you know.'

Mrs. Jones brightened. `If only he could help !' she breathed. 'Oh, that reminds me. Did you see his photograph in the daily paper? I meant to show it to you in case you missed it, but worrying about Chas put it out of my mind.' She limped slowly over to a table and picked up a paper, then rustled through it to find what she wanted. 'There,' she said. 'Doesn't he look distinguished? He was at some dinner at the Savoy.'

Megan obligingly looked. There was Ray, with the usual smile amounting to a grin, shaking hands with a portly-looking man. Beside him stood Joanna, resplendent in an off-the-shoulder evening gown. The photograph didn't really do her justice, Megan thought, it was like those society photographs, with no trace of personality shown.

`She's lovely too, isn't she?' Mrs. Jones said. 'I expect he meets a lot of women like that.'

`She is lovely,' agreed Megan. 'I was just thinking the photo didn't do her justice, it makes her look cold somehow, and she's a sweet person.'

`You know her, then?' queried Mrs. Jones.

`His sister,' Megan replied.

`Oh, isn't that nice !' enthused Mrs. Jones. 'I expect she's awfully proud of him, don't you?'

Megan assured her she was.

At lunch time the next day, Megan had a visitor, or rather two visitors, if a small boy of about nine could be so called. On answering the door she found a woman standing on the doorstep, one hand holding on to the collar of a small boy who put her in mind of the 'William' books she used to read in her youth, and examining the old copper lamp hanging on the porch wall with the other.