The Girl From Over the Sea (28 page)

‘
I
’
m quite able to concentrate, and as to my appearance. I
’
m sorry if it displeases you. Perhaps if you left me I could get on and repeat this work.
’

He mouthed something unprintable and smothered it almost before it was uttered. The thundery weather was evidently having an effect on
Mr.
Blake Defontaine as well as on
other
people.

‘
A
ll
right, do it again, and then for God
’
s sake, take the rest o
f the afternoon
off.
Go
o
n to the beach, and see if you can get same fresh air there before the storm breaks. Have you any tablets for your headache?
’

Lesley sat for a m
o
ment after he had gone, needles pri
ckin
g the back of her eyes. So he thought she looked
half
dead,
d
id he—which in a man
’
s
l
anguage meant singularly unattractive. She fumbled in her handbag for a mirror and grimaced a
t
her pale face and the violet shadows under her ey
e
s. Well, perhaps he was right. But what sort o
f
tablets did
one
take when the pain was not so much in one
’
s head as in one
’
s heart?

There were roars
o
f thunder and dashes of lightning as she ran from the Lodge towards the hotel later that afternoon. Heavy black
clouds
were piling up in the sky, and a
s
she reached the old Manor, the storm broke with a howling wind and a roaring hungry sea.

‘
I hope to my dear goodness
,’
sa
i
d
Mrs.
P
iper,
‘
that young
Mr.
Dominic hain
’
t cut in this in that car
of his
’
n. Un shouldn
’
t have gone cut again, and so I t
ol
ded him. Un never come in this morning till
f
ive o
’
cl
ock and
he
, my dear
one
, un wan in a way when un got up
.’

Lesley said nothing
... So Dominic had been living it up last night after he had left her, and Blake Defontaine suspected
she
had been his companion.

T
he
storm was succeeded by a patch
o
f bad weather, and Lesley, feeling unutterably depressed, wa
s
convinced that the short E
nglish summer was over. Very soon
now she must make up her mind what she was going to do next. For her, as well as the summer, this Cornish idy
ll
was nearly over.

‘
The s
umm
er
o
ver? Not a bit
m
’
dear soul
,’
said
Mrs.
Piper comfortably.
‘
We
’
ll have weeks
o
f i
t
yet down here right into September. And then we
’
ll
be having
our Harvest Home Supper Dance just like we had at the Keveh You enjoyed that, didn
’
t you, m
’
dear? I
’
ll never forget you and
Mr.
Domini
c
—the handsomest couple in the room, you were, and we all said it.

‘
And then we always get a spell
o
f lovely weather in October—an Indian summer, they dew call
it.’

But so far as the Australian team was concerned, their summer in England was over and by the end of August they were packing up and preparing to fly home.

Steve rang Lesley one afternoon early in September and she took his call in the office next to the lab. He knew she was free that evening and they had already arranged to meet in St Benga Town.

‘
Darling
,’
he said exuberantly,
‘
I
’
ve had a brainwave. As I
’
m off to Scotland tomorrow, let
’
s make it a celebration tonight. I
’
ve already been honoured by being offered a table at your so-so exclusive establishment. So is it on? Will you dine with me there?
’

‘
But, Steve
...
’
Lesley was stammering slightly because Blake Defontaine was in the doorway between the office and the lab
...
‘
was there a vacant table
...
and who took the booking?
’

‘
I
rang this morning, and the slave-master himself answered and was graciously pleased to allow us to dine together in the sacred precincts. So make yourself extra beautiful, my sweet. See you.
’

With that he rang off, leaving Lesley staring at Defontaine and hating him for the sardonic gleam in his eyes.
‘
Don
’
t look so embarrassed,
’
he said unkindly.
‘
I
take it that was a personal call from your Australian admirer. I didn
’
t hear a thing. Have fun tonight.
’

In spite of a certain disquiet, Lesley couldn
’
t help feeling excited at the thought of dressing up and dining in the hotel. It was something she hadn
’
t done before and lately she hadn
’
t been out much in the evening.

So she was humming gaily as she went up to her room, peeled off her dress and underwear and settled for a really luxurious bath, revelling in the ravishing perfume of the bath crystals she had sprinkled so lavishly in the bath water.

Quickly she dried herself and stepped into another set of flimsies and then a dress of brocaded silk in jade green—the colour of her eyes. Shoes to match and a long gold chain which had been her mother
’
s—the only valuable piece of jewellery she possessed.

She left her make-up light, merely emphasising the darkness of her brows and lashes and shadowing the greenness of her eyes.

Steve was waiting for her in the great hall of the new Manor. She looked at him as he came to
meet her and all at once a sense of panic shook her. Steve—Steve of all people who had been her boy-friend in Melbourne—seemed like a handsome bronzed young stranger with whom she was reluctant to dine
t
ê
te-
à
-t
ê
te.

The panic died when she saw the old familiar grin and heard his Aussie voice. They had a drink and then went into the dining room. The meal was excellent, but neither of them really noticed. Steve was talking a lot about his forthcoming visit to Scotland where he was visiting some of his father
’
s relatives and Lesley was watching Blake Defontaine who was entertaining two business acquaintances in a far
corner
of the room.

She was half glad, half apprehensive when Steve suggested they went for a walk in the garden and towards the cliffs—glad to avoid having to speak to Defontaine and meet the mockery on his face, yet fearful of what Steve might want to say to her. Already the shadows were gathering in the garden, and in the green of the sky over the sea one star was faintly shining.

Lesley knew it was something she couldn
’
t put off any longer. It was time to call a halt now to this thing that had started when she was at school.

Steve
’
s hand closed down hard on hers as they walked towards the cliffs.
‘
After Scotland, what I do next depends on
you,
Les. No, don
’
t say anything. Just listen.

‘
Les, when I go back to Australia I want to take you with me. I can
’
t get you out of my system. No girl has ever meant as much to me as you do. Is it on?
’

Lesley shook her chestnut head rather sadly and her green eyes were troubled.
‘
No, Steve, I
’
m sorry, but it isn
’
t. Since you came here in May, I
’
ve asked myself often why it didn
’
t seem the same, and all I can think is that
...
well, we aren
’
t like those.
’
She pointed to the Kissing Tree
,
which they were just passing.
‘
See, they
’
ve bent towards each other as time has passed, but it hasn
’
t been the same with us. Since those Melbourne days we
’
ve grown apart.
’

She clenched her hands, willing herself not to think of that time she had been kissed under these very trees, willing herself to forget for ever the moment when Blake
’
s face had bent over
to her upturned one, his eyes dilated, brilliant, his lips hard upon her own. It had been a moment of madness—perhaps for him a desire to punish her for her defiance of him. She was out of her mind to be thinking of it now.

Steve kicked moodily at the turf over which they were walking.
‘
I
haven
’
t grown away from you,
I
haven
’
t changed. It
’
s
y
ou, Les, who
’
s different. You
’
re in love with someone else, aren
’
t you? Is it Dominic? He
’
s madly handsome, I give you that.
’

‘
No
...
no
...
I
’
m not in love with anyone,
’
Lesley gasped quickly, and even to herself the words sounded incredibly forced.

For another half hour, Steve pleaded and cajoled while they walked the cliffs seeing nothing of the magic beauty of the summer sea stretched in a silken sheet of turquoise and emerald, nor the black cruelty of the rocks below them.

The long twilight began to fade and over the hill the moon lifted its shining apricot globe. In the end Steve said sullenly,
‘
I shall go to Scotland tomorrow. After that, I don
’
t know ... I may come down here again, I may not. It depends. Will you think it over, Les, and perhaps give me another answer when I come again?
’

‘
Steve, I
’
m sorry, but my answer won
’
t be different either tomorrow or next week ... or ever.

‘
Well, what am I going to do about young Rita, t
h
en?
’
be asked deliberately.

Lesley stared at him, her eyes anxious as she remembered Sorrel
’
s innuendoes, remembered too how different Rita
’
s attitude to her had been since that night she had announced that she was going back to Australia to be married.

‘
Rita?
’
she echoed.
‘
What should you be doing about her, Steve
?’

He said glumly,
‘
I
’
ve promised she can come back to Sydney with me. She
’
s mad keen to get into
t
he Outback again and I said I
’
d write to Mum asking her to invite her to stay.
’

‘
Oh, Steve
!’
Lesley looked at him despairingly.
‘
That isn
’
t on. It isn
’
t on at all, and you must have known it. Her place is here at Trevendone until some other arrangements can be made. You
’
ll have to tell her
...
’

‘
It
’
s all on the level, Les, I assure you,
’
he protested.
‘
I wouldn
’
t have pr
o
mised if I hadn
’
t hoped things were going to work out for you and me. Rita tells me this Defontaine bloke is going to pay her fare back. She
’
s changed her attitude to him completely, you know. He
’
s just great, according to her. It seems he
’
s going to put some of the Trevendone money in trust for her and Rick ... or so she says.
’

Lesley
’
s green eyes widened.
‘
All this is news to me,
’
she said faintly.
‘
I
’
m half afraid Rita has been pulling your leg, Steve
...
just making it sound easy for her to come as your parents
’
guest. But it isn
’
t on, Steve, not like that. It just isn
’
t on.
’

‘
No,
’
he agreed uneasily,
‘
I realise I got carried away. What
’
s to do, Les?
’

Lesley said quietly,
‘
My job here will have finished at the beginning of October and I shall be returning to Australia. I don
’
t think Rick will.
H
is future seems pretty well planned, but if Rita wants to come back with me we
’
ll probably be in Melbourne by Christmas. After that, it
’
s up to you. If Rita meets your parents and they invite her to your home in the Outback it will be all right so far as I
’
m concerned.
’

His face had brightened at the thought of her return.
‘
No hard feelings about Rita, Les?
’
he questioned.
‘
I haven
’
t been playing around with her, I promise you.
’

‘
No hard feelings, Steve
,’
Lesley assured him, but her face was still troubled.

They parted, he optimistic that they would meet in Melbourne, but Lesley
’
s mood was one of deepest depression. She was bewildered by the turmoil in her own heart.

Mrs.
Piper came out of the kitchen of the old Manor as the girl began to mount wearily the polished oak stairs. Worked too hard, she did, Miss Lesley, and worried too much about those twin scallywags.

As the girl turned, she said, admiringly,
‘
Oh, but you look real bonny in that dress, Miss Lesley. Not but what I liked you fine in that white one you wore to the Revel dance
.’

Lesley smiled.
‘
I hear more jollifications are in the wind
.’

‘
Yes,
‘
tis Harvest Festival come
Sunday week. Yonder out there
‘
tis the harvest moon, as no doubt you
’
ve been looking at un
,’
and she smiled slyly.

‘
Yes, there
’
s a lovely moon
,’
Lesley agreed.

‘
That Harvest Thanksgiving is a service I dew like, and started first round about these parts, or so they dew say. Then come Monday, t
’
will be Harvest supper and dance. Perhaps you
’
ll bring that young man o
’
you
’
m this time.
’

Lesley shook her head.
‘
He isn
’
t m
y
young man,
Mrs.
Piper. He
’
s just an old friend. He
’
s going up to Scotland to see some of his relatives and then he
’
s off back to Australia.
’

‘
Well, better chanst for them as
is
down here
,’
remarked
Mrs.
Piper obscurely.