Stormspell (33 page)

Dominic swore softly, then flung himself resignedly into an armchair. 'What time do you expect him back?' he asked, resting one ankle across his knee. 'I didn't know the old man even liked the game.'

Isobel's brows arched in faint disapproval, but she forbore from commenting on his lack of parental reverence. Instead she said: 'You should have told him you were coming. I'm sure he'd have much preferred a chat with you. to advertising his handicap to Alan Harmer.'

'I doubt it.' remarked Dominic dryly, then moved his shoulders indifferently. 'Oh. well. I guess I can wait. Providing you can supply me with something long and cold and thirst-quenching.'

'Lager?' suggested his mother, getting up from the piano stool, and Dominic inclined his head.

'If you've nothing stronger,' he agreed, as she rang the bell for Ginny. and Isobel firmly shook her head.

Ginny showed a distinct inclination to linger, but Isobel dismissed her sharply before seating herself near her son. Then, when he had emptied half his glass, she lay back in her chair, curled her hands over the arms, and said bluntly:

'Why did you take that girl down to Marlin Spike? You must have known that we would find out sooner or later.'

Dominic found himself at a disadvantage. It was the last thing he had expected his mother to ask. and he took some time drinking the remainder of the lager in his glass, before giving her any reply.

'How did you find out, just out of interest?' he said at last, disappointed that Bridie should have deliberately betrayed him. but his mother unwittingly restored his confidence.

'It was through Barbara, actually,' she admitted flatly. 'She rang me about half an hour ago. She said she'd been speaking to you.'

'But Barbara didn't—'

'—know? I'm aware of that. However, when she told me where you'd been I rang Bridie to apologise for your inconsiderateness in turning up like that.'

Dominic bent his head. 'And that's when she told you.'

'Eventually.' conceded his mother dryly. 'You know what Bridie's like. She thinks the sun shines out of your—well, we won't go into that. Sufficient to say. that she accidentally mentioned that she had made dinner for three. Naturally. I insisted on knowing who had accompanied you.'

'Naturally.' observed Dominic, with some sarcasm. and his mother gazed at him with unveiled irritation.

'Do you know what you're doing?' she demanded, 'taking that girl there? Have you any idea how Barbara would react if she found out?' Dominic sighed heavily. 'I get the picture.'

'Do you? Do you?' Isobel's voice rose a little, and she quickly controlled it. 'Dominic, I don't know what's come over you. Ever since that trip to Barbados, ever since you met that girl—'

'Oh, no.' Dominic would not have that, and his tawny eyes were hard as they encountered hers. 'Not just since I met Ruth. Mother. Before that—long before that.'

His mother made a little helpless movement of her fingers. 'I don't understand you. I—we—your father and I—we've done everything for you. Since Michael died—'

'I know. Mother. I know.' Dominic rested his head back against the soft upholstery, feeling the churning tide of frustration rising inside him again. 'I know you mean well—'

'Mean well? Mean well?' His mother's voice rose again. 'Is that all it's ever meant to you?'

Dominic groaned. 'No. No, of course not.' He lifted his head to look at her again. 'But try and be a little more reasonable. I know you care about me. I know that since Michael died you've channelled all your emotions in my direction. But don't you see? I can't be held responsible for all your thwarted ambitions for him as well as me!'

Isobel's lips trembled. 'That's a cruel thing to say. Dominic!'

'But true.' he averred, resting his arms along his thighs, leaning towards her. 'Mother, listen to me—'

Isobel shook her head, fumbling for her handkerchief. and defeated once again, he lay back against the cushions. It was always like this, he thought wearily. Michael's death lay like a weight across his shoulders.

'This girl.' his mother said at last, when he made no attempt to continue the conversation, 'how did you come to take her to Marlin Spike? Does her aunt know about your relationship?'

'No!' Dominic was emphatic. Then, answering her other question, he said: 'I knew she was taking a driving lesson yesterday. I met her outside the school.'

'You—arranged to meet her?' Isobel probed, and Dominic shook his head.

'No. It was all my idea.' he replied briefly. He paused, before adding bitterly: 'She didn't even want to come.'

His mother was amazed. 'You mean you forced her?'

'Not exactly.' he conceded dryly. 'I—persuaded her.'

'But what is she to you?' demanded Isobel fiercely. Are you attracted to her? Do you have a—a physical relationship?'

'I don't think that's any of your business. Mother.' he retorted flatly, bringing an unbecoming darkening of colour to her cheeks. 'As to what she is to me, perhaps you ought to ask what am I to her?'

'What do you mean?'

'She left for Switzerland this morning, with her aunt's adopted son. She omitted to tell me she was going."

Isobel looked slightly relieved. 'So—so you think she's involved with this—this cousin of hers?' she ventured faintly, and then drew back when Dominic made a strangled sound.

'If she is, I'll kill him.' he responded grimly, and she clasped her palms together in a gesture of stunned incredulity.

Martin soon got bored with Ruth's inexperienced efforts on the nursery slopes, and she could tell from the way he knocked first one fist and then the other into his palms, and stamped his feet, that he was growing restless. Towering above them, the challenging slopes of the Grensberg glacier were a constant temptation, and she guessed he was envying those expert skiers who took the chair-lift up the pass.

'You don't have to stay with me, you know,' she told him, over dinner their first evening. 'I'm quite willing to join Herr Ferrier's class. You go and enjoy yourself. I know you're dying to try your skis.'

Martin grinned, reaching for her hand across the table. 'Am I so transparent?' he sighed ruefully. 'I must confess, the higher slopes are appealing.'

'Then go ahead,' Ruth suggested, letting her fingers lie pliant within his. 'I'd like to try my hand at skating, actually, so why don't we both do what we want?'

Martin sighed. 'Somehow I get the feeling my mother wouldn't approve,' he brooded doubtfully. 'This weekend was supposed to throw us together.'

Ruth sipped her wine. 'We'll have every evening,' she pointed out reasonably, and she could see Martin was attracted by the prospect of some exciting sport.

In consequence, Ruth passed Saturday morning in company with a crowd of other would-be skiers, learning the rudimentary rules of the exercise, and after lunching alone at one of the ubiquitous pastry houses, spent the afternoon touring the shops. The richness and variety of the goods on sale quite took her breath away, and she spent a long time admiring a chunky cream sweater, patterned in shades of blue and green and yellow, thinking how attractive it would look on Dominic. She had tried very hard not think of him. She had determined that once she left England she would put him out of her mind. But this morning, after a restless night tossing in the comfortable hotel bed. she had felt so sick and miserable she had realised that she was fooling herself by imagining that distance would achieve what proximity could not.

She went back to the hotel around five, changed into her bathing suit, and took a swim in the pool. She and Martin had used the pool the night before, but she was still a little nervous about doing things alone. Nevertheless, it was all part of her intention to prove herself independent, and she swam the length of the pool a couple of times before climbing out on to the side.

'It's Miss Jason, isn't it?'

She looked up in surprise at the friendly question, then relaxed as she recognised Herr Ferrier. The young ski instructor was obviously just on his way to take a swim, and she smiled politely at him as she returned his greeting.

'You're leaving?' he asked, with some regret.

'What a pity! I should have welcomed your company.'

Ruth knew Herr Ferrier was an Austrian, but his English was very good, and his smiling attention was just what she needed. 'I'm sorry, too,' she answered, loosening her hair from its knot, so that it fell silkily about her shoulders. 'Excuse me—I have to go and change.'

'Later—' he said, as she started to walk away, and she looked back at him puzzlingly. 'Join me for a drink later,' he amended, in the
apres-ski
lounge. 'We could share a dish of
fondue,
no?'

Ruth hesitated. 'I don't know—'

Herr Ferrier frowned. He was very good-looking, square-shouldered, and muscular; very athletic. He was evidently used to having success with the girls he selected. Ruth guessed shrewdly, but she was not offended by his persistence.

'Please,' he said. 'I shall be there in—thirty minutes. Do not disappoint me.'

Ruth smiled. 'My cousin may have other plans.'

Herr Ferrier shrugged. 'Bring her with you.' he declared expansively, and Ruth's lips twitched.

'I'll bring—
him
. shall I?' she suggested, and with the lightning courtesy of his race, the Austrian performed a little bow.

it will be my pleasure,' he assured her gallantly, and Ruth went to put on her towelling robe, with a certain lifting of her spirits.

In the event, it was an entertaining evening. There proved to be quite a number of young people gathered together in the lounge, and as they all seemed to know the young Austrian, Ruth and Martin were absorbed into their group. Dinner was a casual meal, - taken buffet style, from the dish of
fondue
they all shared. Squatting on cushions, dipping squares of bread into the cheesy concoction in the centre, interspersing it with glasses of chilled white wine, Ruth relaxed for the first time since Dominic had driven her home, and the enormous log fire that blazed merrily in the wide hearth brought a glow of health and vitality to her cheeks.

'You are enjoying yourself, yes?'

She became aware that Martin had moved away to talk to some people he had been skiing with that afternoon, and his place had been taken by the Austrian. Herr Ferrier was looking at her very intently, his blue eyes bright in the glow from the fire, his fair good looks accentuated by the healthiness of his tan. It was strange, she thought inconsequently, how much different two fair-haired people could be. Herr Ferrier's hair was golden-blond, not silver, and his eyes were Nordic blue, not amber; but most particularly, his skin was fair, tanned a golden brown, while Dominic's was sallow, and darkly pigmented. Yet, despite the Austrian's classical beauty, it was Dominic she preferred, and his hard, lean body was infinitely more disturbing than Herr Ferrier's rippling muscles.

'You are not enjoying yourself?' he enquired now. when she didn't answer him, and she hastened to restore his opinion.

'Oh, yes,' she said, cradling her glass between her palms. 'I'm having a lovely evening, thank you. Herr Ferrier.'

'My name is Johann,' he told her softly. 'And your name. I know, is Ruth. Surely we can omit the formalities for once. I would very much like you to use my name.'

'All right—Johann,' Ruth smiled. 'I'm not used to ceremony either. Tell me, do you live here?'

'In Grensberg? No,' he shook his head, 'my home is in Innsbruck. My father has a printing business there. But me, I like to ski, and I am afraid my family despairs of me.'

Ruth was interested. 'But one day you'll go back, won't you? To the printing business, I mean.'

'Perhaps.' He shrugged. 'When I am no longer young. When I cannot ski the glacier.' He paused. 'And you? What do you do? Do you live in London?'

Ruth hesitated. 'London, yes,' she conceded slowly. 'And I'm afraid I don't do anything, not right now. anyway. But—but I hope to.'

'Ah. I see. You have just left school, no?' Johann nodded, and Ruth decided to let him think so. 'It is good to be young, and have one's whole life in front of one.' He glanced at Martin. 'But Mr Pascal, your cousin, he is your friend, no?'

'My friend?' Ruth frowned. 'Yes. Martin and I are friends. Why do you ask?'

'Ah. you misunderstand me,' declared Johann quietly. 'In my way, I am asking whether he is your lover also.' His eyes caressed her. 'But I am persuaded that he is not.'

Ruth was glad the heat of the fire hid her blushes, and she was relieved when Martin came to join them. His presence precluded any further intimacies, and when he yawned and said he was ready for bed, she eagerly went with him.

As they went up to their rooms, however, Martin had other matters to concern him. 'Did you see that tall blonde girl in the red and white catsuit?' he asked her earnestly. 'The one with the huge gold hoops in her ears? I was skiing with her and her brother this afternoon, and she's really terrific!'

'Is she?' Ruth glanced wryly at him, and he gave her an involuntary hug.

'She's a terrific athlete,' he exclaimed enthusiastically. 'A natural on skis. You should come and watch her tomorrow. You could go up and down on the lift—I'd take care of you.'

'No, thanks.' Ruth shook her head. She had had experience of Martin's taking care of her at the racetrack near London. His ideas of looking after someone amounted to taking them where he wanted to go. and then leaving them to their own devices for hours on end. She had no desire to spend a freezing couple of hours up on the high slopes, with nothing between her and the valley but empty wastes of tree-scattered snow. 'I told you, I want to try the ice rink. You go with—with—'

'—Val and David.' Martin put in for her, and she nodded.

'Yes. you go with Val and David.' she acknowledged lightly. 'Don't worry about me.'

'I think that Herr what's-his-name fancies you,' interjected Martin suddenly. 'You watch yourself with him. I don't trust these professional sportsmen.'

'Noj do I,' returned Ruth mischievously, looking at him. and Martin gave her a punishing slap on her tail, before she disappeared into her room.