Rainbow for Megan (17 page)

Megan's fingers gripped her drink. She knew that tone—Main was out to bait Ray. She cast an appealing look at him, but Alain ignored her. The Major looked expectant. 'Meet Vernon Hood, in the flesh,' he went on, 'of whodunnit fame.'

`By jove!' said the Major, standing up and extending his hand. 'Pleasure, sir, quite an addict myself. Trouble is you fellows don't turn them out fast enough. The wife will be furious she missed this,' he said with twinkling eyes, 'great fan of yours. Er ... tell me ...'

Ray was well and truly trapped and there was nothing he could do about it. Megan really felt for him. It was all her fault, and for nothing. There was no hope of extricating him, she thought miserably, as the Major launched into reminiscences.

`Damn clever,' he was saying, and Megan could almost feel Ray squirm. To complete her misery Alain sat down next to her. She was furious with him. He had done it deliberately. She picked up her

drink and made a point of totally ignoring him, gazing round the lounge, idly watching the groups of men chatting and still going over the day's events. Snatches of conversation could be heard. 'Best day's bag I've ever had ...'

Megan knew Alain was studying her, but she refused to be intimidated. She was sure she no longer loved him. He was domineering and utterly ruthless; she didn't know why she hadn't seen it before.

The Major droned on; he was now asking Ray when the next book was expected.

`I'm not sure I like the new image,' Alain murmured.

Megan's eyes flashed. He meant the dress, of course. She stared coldly at him, as if he were some new acquaintance getting fresh.

He met that look with narrowed eyes, and deliberately gave her another slow appraisal. Megan wished she could throw something at him. Her fingers curled round her drink and she drank some more of it.

`I see you've moved on from cider,' he drawled. `What is it?'

From past experience Megan knew there was no point in ignoring the question. 'Whisky,' she snapped, `and I don't want another.'

`I wasn't going to get you one,' he murmured maddeningly, 'not whisky anyway, perhaps an iced

lime?'

`No, thank you!' she bit out, and looked at Ray. With great relief she saw he had finally broken loose. `If you would excuse me,' he said, 'I have a habit of working at night.' He looked at Megan and held his hand out. 'Megan.'

It was not the action, but the way he carried it out. Inwardly applauding him, she placed her hand in his and got up to leave, but Alain was standing in her way. She saw his fists clench, then he stepped aside. Megan let Ray lead her out still holding her hand. She called 'Goodnight,' to all and sundry.

Once outside, she breathed, 'I'm so sorry, I never dreamed ...'

Ray squeezed her hand. 'I'm used to it. I don't mind discussing my work, it's flattery I can't take. It's just a job to me. It was unfortunate that the Major couldn't oblige.'

`No,' said Megan miserably, 'and you went through all that for nothing.'

`Oh, I wouldn't say that,' Ray said airily. `No, I wouldn't say that at all. Some parts I rather enjoyed.'

Megan thought about these words later while she lay waiting for sleep. She had a feeling she knew what he meant. The way he had laid claim to her, just by holding his hand out like that, getting his own back on Alain by that one simple but telling gesture. It was as if a subtle but positive challenge had been

thrown out. And Ray was subtle, she realised with a start, also a very clever man. Not the obvious approach for him, like his plots he would have everything all worked out beforehand. To think he had asked her to marry him! Not that he had mentioned it since, but then he wouldn't. A waiting game was more in his line. Megan wasn't sure she liked the position she was in. Was he serious or not? She thumped her pillows. Of course he wasn't ! The hand pounding the pillow stopped suddenly. Or was he?

THE day Megan was dreading came at last. Saturday dawned and she sat listlessly eating her breakfast, at least she attempted to eat it, but gave up after the first mouthful. Her father looked up from his plate. 'Isn't there a shoot on?' he asked vaguely.

Megan nodded absently.

`Not joining it?' he asked mildly.

Megan shook her head. 'Not this time,' she murmured. Not ever, she thought.

`Oh,' he said, sounding slightly puzzled, but did not pursue the subject, to Megan's relief.

She hastily started clearing up the remains of the meal. She couldn't ever remember feeling quite so miserable and somehow lost. The day, indeed the whole weekend, stretched endlessly ahead. Her life had been so entwined with events at Clock House, with Alain in fact—now she was cut off, she didn't belong any more. She thought of Ray's words about village life. She sighed as she tackled the washing up. One big family—yet she felt ostracised, like the wandering son of a family who returns to find he is no longer part of the family but belongs in name

only. He is out of step with them, has missed so much, even in small snatches of news, that he feels a stranger, for he does not know what went before.

She made an effort to stem these miserable musings. A hobby, that was what she wanted. There would be the evenings to fill now, now that Chas ...

Her father drifted into the kitchen. 'There's a book I would like from the library,' he said, 'if you're not too busy, that is.'

Megan was not too busy, in fact, anything but. She was only too happy to be given something positive to do. The nearest library of any size was in Salisbury, ten miles away, and she would take her time, she decided. She knew from past experience that her father would not be needing the book for a day or two; he never left things to the last minute. She could spend most of the day there if she prepared his lunch before she left.

Salisbury, although a city with a fine cathedral, was still very much a market town. Megan found the book her father wanted, then wandered around the town, mingling with the busy last-minute shoppers. She gazed aimlessly into shop windows, until an empty feeling reminded her that she had had no breakfast and it was close on lunch time. She found a restaurant, but it was crowded with a queue of people waiting for tables. The smell of appetising food failed to arouse any response in her and she made her way

out, deciding to make do with some sandwiches. These she ate on a seat by the river, watching the holidaymakers stroll along the banks—lovers hand in hand, children rushing ahead of their parents, and being called back from time to time. A child with a small puppy on a lead, being mercilessly yanked along, hardly being given time to sniff or do what it was obviously being taken out to do. Megan shuddered. Why couldn't people realise that harnesses were the things to use with small puppies? That poor creature's neck muscles would have to be strong to withstand much of that kind of treatment. At least Chas would be spared that.

At the thought of Chas, she lost what appetite she had had, and pushed the rest of the sandwiches back into the wrapping and searched for a waste bin to put them in. She might as well start back. There would be the tea to get, and she would collect Chas earlier this time. They would walk and walk, just wander through the countryside with no special destination in mind—except later ...

She collected Chas from the kennels, and with a heart as heavy as lead, walked over the heathland surrounding the kennels. She wanted to see him dash ahead as he used to, busy on exploring his surroundings, but he was much more subdued these days. He didn't understand why he had been shut away all day, and was pathetically pleased to see her each

evening. He no longer sniffed around in high delight, but kept close to her side as if afraid she would suddenly vanish out of sight.

Eventually they came to a clearing in a small wood, and Megan sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, and Chas sat close beside her.

She stroked his head. 'We're both losers, Chas,' she murmured. 'I guess some of us are born losers.'

Chas growled, and Megan broke off from her philosophic musings. Looking up, she found Alain standing in front of her.

`So this is where you've been hiding yourself, is it ?' he said. 'How long have you had that in kennels?'

Megan was too low even to resent him referring to Chas as 'that'. She looked at him, then looked quickly away again. She didn't even bother to answer his question. 'Go away, Alain,' she said quietly. 'You'll probably find it amusing, but it's our last evening together and I'm trying to tell him it won't be painful.'

`Well, I'm damned !' he exploded. 'How long have you had this on your mind?'

She shrugged despondently. At least he hadn't laughed. 'Seems like years,' she said slowly.

`Why didn't you ask me for help ?' he demanded. Her lips twisted wryly. As if she had had the opportunity !

He changed the subject abruptly. 'Why the devil didn't you tell me where you spent that weekend?'

Megan just couldn't see the point of bringing that up at a time like this. 'It's not important,' she said haltingly, desperately wishing he would go away. Soon it would be time for ...

`Not important,' he said softly yet somehow menacingly. 'You put me through hell and it's not important! If it hadn't been for the Major showing me that photograph of Hallett he'd saved to show his wife, I'd still be there. It was taken during that weekend, wasn't it? I also saw the lovely by his side.' His hands clenched into fists. 'Where did you go ?' he asked again.

Megan sighed. 'To Devon,' she said slowly. To see Mary and Kevin. I thought they might take Chas.'

He groaned. 'Of all the first class idiots !' he said, striking his forehead. 'Well, it's the last time you do anything like that without consulting me, got that?'

Megan knew anger, a cold deep anger. She had been through too much to land herself back under his protection again, if that was what bullying was called. She got up. 'I'm managing very well, thank you, Alain Drew, without your assistance ! Go and find someone else to bully.'

He caught her wrist as she attempted to sweep past him. 'And what,' he said softly, 'have you "managed" about that?' He pointed to Chas, standing looking bewilderedly from one to the other of them.

Megan wished he hadn't asked that particular question, not at that particular time. She bit her lip.

`I could,' he commented airily, 'suggest a solution.'

She looked up at him. Her eyes, though wary, also mirrored hope. 'You mean you'll give him a home?' If he said no, she'd hate him for the rest of her life, she thought.

Alain's eyes met hers steadily. 'I might,' he said.

She felt relief flow over her. She wanted to shout for joy, he would take him, she knew he would ! `Oh, Alain,' she breathed, 'thank you! If you like I'll come up and feed him, and exercise him for you, he won't he any trouble, you'll see. Could you take him tonight? And if there's anything you want me to do, you only have to say... .' she ended breathlessly.

Alain's hand on her wrist tightened. 'Anything?' he said, and his eyes probed hers.

`Anything,' breathed Megan happily.

`Marry me, then,' he said quietly. 'For that's the only condition I'm taking him on.'

Her eyes widened to their full extent. She stared at him, unable to believe her ears.

He noted the wide eyes and nodded grimly. 'I guessed it would come as a shock, but you'd better get used to the idea. I'm not taking no for an answer.'

Still Megan couldn't take it in. 'You love Iris,' she said slowly, desperately trying to understand this amazing turn of events.

`Whatever I may have felt for Iris, it was certainly not love,' he retorted dryly. 'And that was last summer. I admit to being attracted for a short while, she's very decorative, but that's all. I had the devil's own job in convincing her I'd lost interest.' He pulled her slowly towards him.

`You feel sorry for me,' said Megan, trying to

extricate herself, 'because of Ray. That's it, isn't it? Because I said I'd been hurt.'

He wouldn't release her; in fact, he closed his arms tighter around her. 'I'll wring your lovely little neck,' he threatened, 'if you so much as mention his name again. I've missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss anyone. It was always you, although I didn't know it. I couldn't understand why I was so damned miserable when you weren't around. It was like losing my right arm. When I saw Hallett put his arms around you I felt as if someone had stabbed me in the back. I knew then all right ! But he'd a head start on me, hadn't he? Somehow I had to make you see me as a lover instead of a brother—not the easiest of tasks when all I wanted to do was hold you and kiss you like this.'

He kissed her gently at first, then his love and need of her reached through and she felt herself swept along on the tide of his love. When she was allowed to surface, she clung to him weakly. A surge of joy ran through her. He did love her. Why hadn't

she seen it that night in the spinney? He couldn't have kissed her like that if he hadn't loved her.

`That night in the spinney,' she whispered.

He nodded, his lips on her forehead. 'When you hadn't got the message, I knew it was going to be an uphill fight,' he murmured. She knew he was grinning as he added, 'And you thought Iris was stupid !'