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Authors: Anne Mather

Stormspell (15 page)

BOOK: Stormspell
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'I feel better,' he averred, his expression still probing. 'I repeat—were you wanting me?'

'No.' Ruth shook her head. 'I—I—'

'You can't think of a suitable prevarication, is that it?' he suggested flatly, going past her to open the door of his room, and as she struggled to find words to deny this, he went on: 'Why don't you come right out and say it? You wanted to know where I was.' He shrugged. 'Well, here I am. So how about we stop playing games with one another and act like adult human beings, mmm?'

Ruth glanced behind her, half afraid her father might overhear him. But only a bee's humming disturbed the silence that followed this remark, and she allowed herself to breathe again.

'All right,' she admitted, coming to stand in the doorway. 'I was going to enquire how you were feeling this morning. But I can see. you're almost recovered.'

'I
am
recovered.' he assured her curtly. 'Not almost. So how do you feel about giving me a guided tour of the island? What was it you called that place where you said my yacht might have washed up? The Serpent's Tooth?'

'Teeth, actually,' corrected Ruth doubtfully. 'But that's right across the island. At least two miles.' She paused. 'Besides, Daddy has asked me to look out for Doctor Francis. He—he wants to speak to him.'

'About me. no doubt,' observed Dominic, with sharp perception. 'However, as your
friendly
doctor doesn't usually turn up until after lunch, I'd guess we could be there and back before he arrives.'

'I don't think so.' Ruth's face gained colour. 'Four miles, on foot. In this heat?'

'Don't you have any transport?' He stared at her.

'Only a bicycle.' Ruth confessed in embarrassment. And then: 'There are no roads.'

'Of course not.' Dominic frowned, as if this thought had just occurred to him. 'Okay. Do you have two bicycles?'

Ruth shook her head, in any case—'

if you're going to tell me I can't ride a bike, then don't bother,' he muttered impatiently. 'Believe it or not, I get plenty of exercise back home in England. I'm in reasonably good shape, and cycling four miles isn't going to kill me.'

'Well, we don't have two bicycles,' declared Ruth firmly, moving away from his door as she heard Celeste crossing the tiled floor of the kitchen. 'I'm sorry, but we don't.'

Celeste emerged just as Ruth reached the door of the kitchen, but her shrewd gaze noted the open door along the hall and Ruth's flushed cheeks.

'I guess you found out for yourself, honey.' she remarked, in an undertone, and then assumed a beaming smile when Dominic reappeared. 'Well, hi there, Mr Howard,' she greeted him warmly. 'You enjoy your walk? You ready for some of my ham and eggs now?'

'Just eggs. Celeste, thank you,' Dominic assured her, casually following Ruth into the kitchen. 'Say, you don't know where I could borrow a bicycle, do you?'Celeste glanced at her employer's young daughter, then frowned. 'Why, Missy Ruth—'

'I mean—other than Ruth's,' Dominic inserted smoothly. 'So she can show me a little of the island this morning.'

Celeste smirked. 'Is that so?' she murmured, giving Ruth a sideways glance. 'Well now, Mr Howard, ain't no other bi-cycle on the island not that I knows of.'

Ruth released her breath, but her relief was short-lived.

'You ever ridden a motor-cycle, Mr Howard?' the black woman went on, adding thoughtfully:' 'cause my cousin Harold, he got one of them Japanese Sukis.'

'Suzuki?' suggested Dominic, with evident interest. 'And yes, I've ridden motor-bikes in my time. Do you think he'd lend it to me?'

'If'n I ask him to,' said Celeste smugly, but Ruth could not let this go on.

'I don't think Doctor Francis would approve of Mr Howard riding a motor-cycle, Celeste,' she declared forcefully. 'He might fall off.'

'Your confidence in me does wonders for my ego,' remarked Dominic, with a grimace, and Ruth's forehead furrowed as she struggled to understand him.-'Why should I fall off? Thanks to your ministrations my arm isn't paralysed or anything.' He flexed his wrist, curling and uncurling his fist. 'See! Everything's in working order.'

'I just bet it is,' Celeste inserted, grinning broadly, and Ruth's face burned with colour.

'I still think you ought to think seriously before risking a relapse,' she insisted, realising there was no point in appealing to the black woman. 'How can you be sure you won't lose control of the bike? This isn't England. I've told you. there are no real roads here, only tracks. What if you hit a boulder?'

'What's going on here?' Professor Jason's impatient tones broke into the proceedings. 'Mr Howard.' He greeted the younger man without enthusiasm. 'So you're up and about again. I'm pleased to see it. No doubt you'll be' leaving us now.'

Dominic's expression was wry. 'No doubt,' he agreed politely. 'How are you, sir? I understand from Ruth that you've been unwell yourself.'

Professor Jason met his daughter's anxious eyes. 'Yes,' he said at last. 'Yes, I do suffer a little indigestion from time to time. I'm grateful for your enquiry, but I'm quite well now, thank you.'

'Can I get you some coffee, Daddy?' Ruth asked, moving restlessly from one foot to the other, but her father shook his head.

'No. No, my dear, I just came to find out what was wrong. I was trying to work, but the—er—sound of your voices—'

'I'm sorry. Daddy—' Ruth began awkwardly, but Dominic overrode her apology.

it was my fault, sir,' he assured the other man quietly. 'I was asking Celeste where I might hire some transport to get about the island, and your daughter was endeavouring to persuade me that it was foolhardy to attempt to ride a motorcycle.'

'I agree with her.' The Professor's mouth tightened. 'You'll be leaving here today or tomorrow, Mr

Howard. Could you not contain your—er—boredom until you get back to Barbados?'

'It's not boredom, sir.' Dominic stood his ground. 'I'm interested to see whether the yacht has surfaced on your coastline. To find out if there's anything worth salvaging.'

Professor Jason frowned, is this a new idea. Mr Howard? Forgive me. but I don't recall your showing any interest earlier.'

Dominic shrugged. 'Had I been fit enough to leave soon after my arrival, I'd have organised a search to be made. As it is, what with the delay and so on. I thought I might take a look for myself.'

Ruth's father digested this in silence, then he shrugged. 'I can't forbid you to do whatever you think fit, Mr Howard, but it seems to me exceedingly reckless to attempt to ride a motor-cycle in your condition.'

Dominic expelled his breath heavily. 'Yes. sir.'

'So what do you intend to do?'

Dominic glanced thoughtfully at Ruth, then he moved his shoulders in an offhand gesture. 'I'll leave with Doctor Francis this afternoon,' he said, unknowingly sending Ruth's spirits plummeting to earth. 'I understand your feelings. Professor, and if any salvage operation is undertaken. I'll ensure that it "Causes you as little upheaval as possible.' He paused. 'I can't begin to thank you—and your daughter—and Celeste, of course—for what you've done for me, and I wish there was some way I could repay you. If there's anything you want—'

'There's nothing,' said Ruth's father firmly. 'We're glad to have been of service.' He paused. 'As to your boat, I must say I have grave doubts of its being washed up on our shores. It's much more likely to have been carried farther west, if indeed it survived the storm.'

Dominic absorbed this, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint smile, he inclined his head. 'You're probably right. Professor,' he consented politely, but Ruth, meeting his enigmatic gaze, was less convinced of his sincerity. It seemed to her that her father was taking an unnecessarily pessimistic view of the situation, and that Dominic, for reasons best known to himself, was only choosing to endorse it.

'Good. Good.' Her father was evidently satisfied that he had convinced the other man of the futility of his quest. 'I think I will have some coffee now, Ruth. You can bring it to me in the study.' He paused, glancing significantly at Dominic, before going on: 'I'd like your help with these translations, my dear. I'm afraid you've made a lot of errors. We'll go over them together, shall we?'

Ruth knew she should feel relief at being rescued from a difficult situation, but shamefully, she didn't. In spite of herself, she found her exchanges with Dominic stimulating, and the excitement he generated alerted every nerve in her body. Knowing he was leaving that afternoon was like facing a gaping chasm, with no way round it, and no future in it. It was useless to pretend anything could ever be the same after he had gone. Suddenly she was aware of herself as she had never been before, and his departure would take something from her that could never be regained.

She left Dominic tucking into the plate of eggs Celeste had prepared for him, conscious of his eyes upon her as she made her way out of the door. She wondered what he was really thinking, and whether he believed what her father had told him. Whatever the truth of that situation, she was never likely to know.

Her father chose not to mention his conversation with Dominic. Perhaps he thought he had said enough, or maybe he was reluctant to bring up a subject which was obviously a source of contention. In the event, he concentrated instead on the chapters of Ovid Ruth had translated, showing her, whether he intended to do so or not, how disruptive this upheaval in their lives had been to her work.

Dominic joined them for lunch, but it was not a comfortable meal, with Ruth constantly aware of the antagonism between them, and reluctant to add to it by revealing Dominic's real identity. She had come to the conclusion that there was nothing to be gained by upsetting her father further, and as Dominic did not refer to it, neither did she.

After lunch, the weariness in her father's face was evident, and she suggested that he should rest for a while.

'I'll wake you when Doctor Francis arrives,' she promised, when he protested, and after a moment's consideration he gave in.

'Very well,' he agreed heavily. 'But I shall depend on you not to leave the house while I'm lying down.' His meaning was obvious, and as if to add to it, he went on: 'Perhaps you might like to correct the mistakes we discovered this morning. Your work has certainly suffered from a lack of concentration.'

Ruth nodded. 'All right.' She saw the sardonic slant of Dominic's mouth, but ignored it. 'Now do go and rest. Daddy. Doctor Francis will be here soon.'

Gathering their dirty dishes on to a tray ready for carrying into the kitchen, Ruth was aware she had Dominic's attention once more. He was still sitting at the table, observing her ministrations, making no effort to go and gather together the few belongings Joseph had supplied for him.

'So it's goodbye.' he remarked at last, toying with an unused piece of cutlery. 'I guess you won't be sorry to see me go.'

Ruth clattered a spoon on to the tray. 'I'm glad you're well enough to leave,' she murmured, her eyes downcast, and he made a sound of impatience.

'That's not what I meant, and you know it,' he said harshly. 'I just wish—' He broke off abruptly, tossing the fork he had been torturing aside. Then he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, his rubber-soled shoes blocking her path to the door. 'Ruth, you can't waste the rest of your youth playing nursemaid to that old man!'

Ruth stiffened, drawing back from him. 'That old man, as you call him, is my father,' she declared frigidly.

'I know that.' Dominic sighed. 'I have a father, too. And a mother, as it happens. But Jake and I. we don't always see eye to eve. and he knows it.'

'Jake?' '

'My father, James Crown. You remember?'

'You call him by his Christian name?' Ruth was appalled.

'On occasion,' said Dominic irritably. 'It's what everybody calls him. I guess he likes it that way.'

'But don't you call him—Daddy?'

Dominic grimaced. 'Dad—sometimes,' he conceded dryly. 'But that's not important. We're getting away from the point of what I'm trying to say, and that is—parents don't
own
their children. They expect loyalty, of course, and respect, if they deserve it, but not blind, unthinking obedience!'

Ruth was shocked. 'I care for my father, Mr Howard—or Mr Crown—whatever your name is.' She took a deep breath. 'I don't consider my life wasted. I love my father. I'd do anything for him.'

'I know that.' Dominic shook his head. 'All I'm saying is, you can love someone without sacrificing yourself in the process.' He sighed. 'I'm not doing this very well, I know, but have you ever asked yourself who benefits most from your living here? How unselfish is he. depriving you of a normal adolescence?'

'I don't want to talk about this any more,' declared Ruth tautly, picking up the tray and holding it between them like a shield. 'Now, if you'll excuse me—'

Dominic hesitated, but eventually he stepped aside, watching her go. his hands pushed deep into the hip pockets of his jeans. Ruth brushed past him angrily, resentful of his ability to use words to confuse her. Obviously her father was right to mistrust him. He had few scruples, and absolutely no reverence for his parents—
so why did she still feel drawn to him, in a way that she instinctively knew could bring her nothing but pain . . .

The afternoon wore on, but when Celeste came to find her with a jug of deliciously iced lime juice, Doctor Francis had still not made an appearance.

'What time is it. Celeste?' Ruth asked, eagerly- gulping down the fruit juice before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 'Gosh, that was good! It's so hot in here!'

Celeste looked round the stuffy little room with distaste. 'What for you working on Mr Howard's last afternoon?' she demanded, with a scornful gesture. 'He leaving soon. Can't you at least
talk
nicely to him?'

Ruth sighed. 'I asked what time it was, Celeste. Is there no sign of Doctor Francis? He's usually here by now, isn't he?'

'It near five o'clock.' declared Celeste sulkily. 'And ain't no sign of that there doctor. Seems like he ain't coming today. Your daddy ain't going to like that.'

Ruth's pulses unaccountably quickened. 'Five o'clock?' she echoed, licking the lime juice from her upper lip. is Daddy still resting?'

BOOK: Stormspell
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