The Girl From Over the Sea (31 page)

Around her was the low murmur of insects rejoicing in this golden day. A brown and yellow butterfly fluttered near and then sailed gently away, Muted by the height of the cliffs and her nearness to the turf, the roar of the breakers was like a dying symphony. All at once, the heat and exhaustion and that sleeplessness of last night took possession of her senses. The sweet smell of the turf was heady. Her right hand came up to her cheek. She turned slightly so that she was lying on her side ...
and
then came oblivion.

Some noise had awakened her. Lesley blinked, sat up and rubbed the arm on which she had been lying. It wasn
’
t so warm now and the sun had moved down well towards the sea, sending a golden pathway over the water towards the creaming surf.

She got up, looking around for the dog, whistling and calling him. There was no answering scuffle and Lesley
’
s anxious eves turned towards the meadow near the church where the young heifers had been grazing, but they were still standing around placidly, so he hadn
’
t gone in that direction. She peered over the cliff, but the cove where they had played earlier was covered with waves which splashed over all the rocks.

She whistled again and this time there was a yelp of distress. Alarm tightened around her chest as she went towards the deep
vee of the combe. Was he stuck down there in a rabbit hole? She peered cautiously over the edge where it was beginning to get very shadowy. When she whistled again she realised his yelp was coming not from below, but somewhere on her left nearer the cliff edge. Now she called,
‘
Dingo, don
’
t be silly. Come, boy, come!
’
His answering yelp convinced her that he was trapped somewhere or he would have been here by now.

She began to speak quietly and reassuringly, though her heart was beating very fast and she felt sick with worry.
‘
I
’
m coming and I
’
ll soon have you free. Just another little bark to say where you are.
’

As she spoke she was edging to where the combe met the cliffs facing seawards. When she had been in the cove below she had noticed that just here the cliffs fell precipitously and at the top there was a dangerous overhang of soft shale and turf. It was too risky to go near and peer over; she
’
d have to go a little way down the combe and look upwards from there.

It was very steep, but the grass and shrubs gave her footholds and handholds as she edged seaward towards the cliffs, her legs and arms getting scraped and scratched.

Now she saw Dingo, crouching on a ledge just a little way under the overhanging piece of cliff. She
d
idn
’
t know whether he was hurt or suffering from dizziness. Perhaps he had looked down, realised how precarious his position was and had taken fright.

At first she could not see how he had got on to the ledge and then decided he must have jumped from the nearest rock. In which case he should be able to jump back. She edged to it as near as she dared, pointing to it.
‘
Come on, old boy, jump, then on to this one nearer me and you
’
re home. At least near enough for me to grab your collar and haul you up. Come on, pet
.’

The puppy gave an answering yelp and a feeble wag of his tail, but remained where he was. Lesley felt sure he wasn
’
t hurt and she said sharply,
‘
Dingo, jump
!’

She went on talking and whistling. Dingo just stared with those adoring brown eyes.
‘
You do something, chum
,’
he seemed to be saying.
‘
You
’
ve always got me out of scrapes before
.’

Lesley moved away with the idea of going back to tire farm to ask for help, but he howled so heartbreakingly that she had to turn back to the place where he could see her, He had stood up, but as soon as he caught sight of her he settled whimperingly on the ledge again.

As she lay uncomfortably on the steep edge of the combe the vee of its entrance to the sea was su
ff
used with crimson as though caught in a finely styled glass window. Then it faded finally to the dull grey of the oncoming night.

She could scarcely see Dingo now, but very soon the moon would be up and then she would t
r
y again to persuade him to jump. Occasionally she spoke to him to reassure him she was still there. She didn
’
t know what the
y
would be thinking of her absence at Trevendone Manor
—
perhaps she wouldn
’
t even be missed. She didn
’
t think she could have dozed, but suddenly she heard Blake Defontaine
’
s voice.

‘
Lesley,
are
you there? Answer me!
’
To imagine that there was anything like desperation in his voice was rank foo
lishn
ess. She was dreaming, and yon could put all sorts of wishful thinking into dreams. If by chance someone had traced her here, it wouldn
’
t be the slave-master pacing up and down on a cliff, a note of desperation in his voice.

But she wasn
’
t
dre
amin
g
and he
had
come himself. For that was his voice again:
‘
Lesley, for God
’
s sake, answer me!
’

Dingo had perhaps been asleep too on his precarious perch. But now he too was alert and had recognised the voice. He began to yelp excitedly
.

‘
Dingo,
’
Blake shouted,
‘
where is she? Find her, old fellow. Find her!
’

And then to Lesley
’
s petrified astonishment there was a rattle of stones, a swift leap and the dog was bounding at her as she lay precariously on the slope, wedged between a bush and a big rock.

‘
Dingo, you wicked, wicked fraud
!’
she gasped, and burst into tears.

Dingo yapped excitedly at his own cleverness and then went pounding up the side of the combe. Lesley managed to stagger to her feet, feeling cold and cramped. Tears were pouring down her cheeks and she wasn
’
t sure whether she was laughing or crying.

She called out,
‘
I
’
m here a little way down the combe. Will you shine your torch? Unlike Dingo, I can
’
t see in the dark.
’
The moon hadn
’
t risen yet.

‘
Lesley
!’
There was something odd about his voice.
‘
You
’
re hurt. Stay where you are. I
’
ll come down and carry you up.
’

‘
No, I
’
m not hurt, and now I
’
m beginning to see better. I can manage.
’
Everything in the world suddenly seemed all right, gay and bright and glistening though the hunter
’
s moon was still behind the hill.

She began to pull herself up the slope, then a pencil of light caught her. A moment later, strong hands clutched hers and dragged her over the edge
.

‘Y
ou
’
re not hurt
?’
he demanded, putting his hands possessively on her shoulders and bringing them down her arms as if he was testing whether anything was broken.

‘
No, I
...
I
’
m all right,
’
Lesley began, feeling shy and yet elated by that possessive touch. And then all at once her flesh crawled and all the gaiety and brightness ebbed away, leaving only a cold flood of despair.

For Sorrel
’
s voice demanded raspingly,
‘
Then why this vigil on the cliffs? You aren
’
t hurt, the dog isn
’
t hurt, so what does it add up to? Have you taken to bird-watching, or is it just another dramatic episode from down under?
’

Dominic was there too. He gave Lesley a quick hug.
‘
Glad you
’
re all right, little Yseult. We were worried.
’

Lesley swallowed. She had thought this afternoon alone would enable her to recapture her composure. But the sight
of one man and the sound of his voice had left her in the same abject state, and as usual in her
misery she said the wrong thing.

‘
There
’
s quite a
s
earch party out. Why the panic?
’

Sorrel could be sarcastic and
there was no reply; but mockery from
her
, and here he was gripping her arm so fiercely that it hurt and saying gratingly,
‘
Lesley, stop acting the fo
ol
. Somebody at the farm who knew you lived at Trevendone phoned to say your Mini had been parked there for hours. What happened?
’

Again she forced herself t
o
flippancy. Nobody must guess at this awful pain in her throat that was threatening to choke her.
‘
Dingo, the silly old thing, got stuck on a ledge on the cliffs and I couldn
’
t persuade him to jump. I couldn
’
t leave him, so
...’
Her voice almost broke there.

‘
A likely story,
’
Sorrel
’
s voice rasped.
‘
The yellow pest is here, not on a cliff ledge, and you
’
d better get hold of him or Boris wall nip his throat out.
’

‘
What a pity you brought him if you were really looking for Dingo and me,
’
Lesley flashed back.
‘
Dingo hates the sight of him.
’

Again it
was
an unfortunate remark. Blake said grimly,
‘
Sorrel brought Boris along because he might have been able to find you if you hadn
’
t been able to speak.
’
Onc
e again, Lesley
’
s flesh crawled in abject misery.

They found it hard to understand that according to her Dingo had been trapped and yet he had come bounding up the moment Blake had called his name. How could she explain that they were both in the same boat, she and Dingo? The slave-master called, and they were there ... to heel.

The thought made her start to giggle uncontrollably and a moment later there were tears.
‘
Hysteria now,
’
said Sorrel in disgust.
‘
Let
’
s get back to the cars
.’

‘
Lesley
.’
This was Blake
’
s voice again with, that odd note in it.
‘
It doesn
’
t matter now. You
’
re both safe. Come along, put my coat round you. It isn
’
t exactly cold, but you
’
re shivering
.’
As he spoke he shrugged out of his thin tweed coat and pressed it around her shoulders.

She tried to protest, but he kept it around her by the pressure of one arm.
‘
Get going, Dominic
,’
he said curtly.
‘
Take Sorrel and Boris ahead. Lesley, where
’
s the lead for this
ridiculous hound of yours?
’

‘
It
’
s in my pocket
,’
she said, getting it out. Her voice was faint and the giggles and the tears had gone. She was cold and hungry and never before had she felt quite so defeated as she did now.

He took it and called to Dingo, who immediately stopped his snapping and snarling at Boris and came to heel. Still with an arm round Lesley, Blake said again,
‘
Sorrel, go ahead. Do you mind?
’

Sorrel obviously did mind. She shook off Dominic
’
s arm, but then as lights appeared near the lych gate of the church, she said pettishly,
‘
It looks as if half the village has turned out. Well, it will be something else to tell your cobbers when you arrive in the Outback, Lesley Arden!
’

‘
Australian jargon always sounds so elegant on Limey lips
,’
returned Lesley with a venom worthy of Rita, and immediately felt ashamed. Had Blake noticed the name Arden? We
l
l, he would have to know either tonight or tomorrow.

‘
I
’
m sorry you all bothered to come rushing out here
,’
she said now to Blake as they walked across the meadow.
‘
I
’
d have managed.
’

‘
It looks like it,
’
he jeered.
‘
Your precious pet stayed put till I came along. Then he jumped.
’

‘
His Master
’
s Voice
,’
quoted Lesley ironically.
‘
I suggest you take him off our hands at the end of this week when we leave Trevendone
.’

‘
I might do just that
,’
he drawled.
‘
With a name like his he may feel that he
’
s going home. Not exactly to the Outback, of course. Did you know I
’
d accepted a chair at Melbourne University
?’

‘
Melbourne
!
’
Lesley
’
s voice was almost a soundless whisper.
‘
I knew you were taking a university appointment, but not in Melbourne.
’

‘
Any objections?
’
Lesley
’
s heart had almost stopped beating. It couldn
’
t be true. Sorrel and he ... in Melbourne! It was more than she could bear. She held her head down and let the tears fall silently, not daring to search for her handkerchief, while his arm was closely around her, holding his coat in place, about her shoulders.

Now they were through the lych-gate and the moon was coming up, big as last night
.
Last night! Lesley gave a little gasp, pulled away from Blake
’
s hold and ran to the Mini, fumbling in her pocket for her keys. If only she could get away, right away, without saying anything more to any of them.

They had evidently all come out here in Blake
’
s big green Leopardia which was standing next to her tiny car. Sorrel had already pushed Boris into the ba
ck
seat.
‘
You
’
d better drive back with Lesley, Dominic
,’
she ordered.
‘
Blake, I pr
o
mised the Radleys we
’
d call in there for drinks tonight. Come along, darling
.’

‘
Sorrel
!
’
It was just the one word, but on a note that Lesley and perhaps the others had never heard before. It came from Dominic.
‘
Sorrel, don
’
t you think this is a good time to tell Blake what we de
ci
ded last night—that we
’
re go
in
g to be married—that we got engaged
last night?
’

‘
Dominic, you
’
ve been drinking
,’
Sorrel
’
s voice was lightly contemptuous, but there was an undercurrent of alarm in it. If she had intended saying any more, Blake didn
’
t give her the chance.

‘
That
’
s wonderful—the news I
’
ve been waiting for for a long t
ime
,
’
he said heartily.
‘
My congratulations to you both. Well, that seems to settle it. Dominic, you take my car and
I’ll
follow on with Lesley in the Mini
.’

Even In
the half-light Lesley could see the angry indecision on the Cornish girl
’
s face.
‘
I want to get Boris home, so we
’
ll do as you suggest. You know, by the way, that you
’
ll be bringing back a lying little impostor, don
’
t
you,
Blake?
H
er name is Arden and she
’
s no relation to the twins
.’

‘
So I
’
ve always guessed
,’
Blake said gently.
‘
Now, Dominic, go easy on my car
.’

‘
I
’
ll drive
,’
snapped Sorrel.
‘
He
’
s drunk, or he wouldn
’
t have said that crazy thing about our engagement.
’

‘I
don
’
t mind which of you drives as long as you don
’
t put her in dock for a week. I
’
m going to need her a lot.
’