The Golden Maze (10 page)

"Like me to show you round the castle ?" he asked casually.

"I have been all over it, but maybe you'll show me things I missed," Yvonne said with a sweet smile.

"Good—let's go, now." Peter got up and they left the room. Cindy sat very still, trying to reassure herself that Peter hadn't just forgotten her, that he might have done it thoughtfully, in believing that it would be kinder not to show her the castle she had lost. Mrs. Stone came in to collect the tea things. She gave Cindy a quick, disapproving glance but said nothing. Cindy went up to her bedroom and got out Uncle Robert's diary. If only she knew the date of the day Mr. Fairhead had seen Peter come to see his ' father ! Suddenly she knew what she must do. Quickly she put away the notes, pulled on her anorak, because it would be chilly outside, and hurried out to Mr. Fairhead's office.

He wasn't there. But Paul Stone was. He looked up from some bushes he was clipping and asked her what she wanted.

' "I want to see Mr. Fairhead."

"Why ?" he asked.

Cindy bit her lip. "That's my business."

"No longer," Paul Stone said with a grin. "How do you feel now?" He laughed. "Serves you right, that's what I say."

"Look, Mr. Stone," Cindy kept a grip on her temper, "I want to see Mr. Fairhead. Where would he be at this time ?"

Paul Stone made a great show of looking at his watch. He took as long as he could over it, even lifting it to his ear to see if it was ticking. Cindy forced herself to wait. She had to see Luke Fairhead, otherwise she would have walked off.

"Reckon that at this hour, he'll be home with his missus. It's other side of the village. You can't mistake it, t'roof is going green with age."

"Thank you," Cindy said politely. "I'll wait and see him tomorrow."

Paul grinned. "He won't be coming tomorrow, neither the next day. He has his own farm to run."

"I see." Cindy hesitated for a moment, then went and backed her car out. It was fast growing dark, but that didn't worry her.

She had soon driven through the village. There was an open space of fields coming down to the lakeside and then the saw a large square-looking farmhouse. She couldn't see if the roof was green or not, but she pulled up outside and went through the little white gate to the front door. She pulled the bell and the door opened. A tall woman with a large plump face and a friendly smile stared at her. She wore a bright blue frock.

"Who's to wanting ?" she asked.

"Is this Mr. Fairhead's farm ?" Cindy was relieved

when the woman nodded. "I wonder if I could see him."

"Of course." The door was opened wider and she was invited into a tiled hall. "You must be Miss Preston. Luke is just having tea. Come and join us, Miss Preston."

"That's very good of you."

"A pleasure, I'm sure. I'm Mrs. Fairhead, Maidie Fairhead. Born in this house, and so was my grandfather," she said as she led the way down the hall and to a huge warm kitchen where a kitchen range blazed cheerfully.

Mr. Fairhead stood up. He was in his shirt sleeves and looked a little embarrassed. Two or three children were also at the table and turned to stare at Cindy.

"Come in, Miss Preston," Luke Fairhead said warmly. "Sit do
wn and have something to eat."

"No, thanks. I've just had tea," Cindy smiled at him "I tried to see you before you left the castle, but I got held up."

Luke Fairhead grinned. "The Press, I hear. Peter Baxter wasn't amused, eh?"

Cindy laughed. "Nor was I. Why can't the Press leave us alone ?" She sat back in the high-backed chair and ran her hand over her face. "You know, Mr. Fairhead, sometimes I wish Uncle Robert had forgotten me."

Mrs. Fairhead leaned forward eagerly. "I remember when you stayed at the castle with your mum. A lovely woman, she. You were but a little lass."

"I loved the castle. It was so ... so . ."

"Romantic," Luke Fairhead said drily.

Cindy looked at him ruefully. "I still find it fascinating. Will . . . will Peter be able to save it ?"

"I think so. Shrewd, that lad's become. And bright. I always thought he was. Eeeh, Miss Preston, maybe I shouldn't ask you any time, but . . . but is he, and that . . . well . . ." Luke Fairhead seemed embarrassed and looked at his wife. She came to the rescue.

"We were wondering, like, if he was going to marry Miss Todd any time."

Cindy looked at them both and shook her head. "I don't know. She practically told me they were."

"And what did he say, Peter himself ?" Luke Fairhead asked.

"He wasn't there. I don't know him very well. I mean, we've only just met and . . ."

Maidie Fairhead nodded her head wisely, her dark hair slightly streaked with grey. "A good-looking lad is our Peter. 'T
’
was a sad day when he left. I always wished he and his dad could have made it up. Fair broke his dad's heart, it did."

Cindy drank the cup of tea she had been given, then turned to Luke Fairhead. "Can you remember when it was that Peter came to see his father and was turned away?"

Luke's
weather beaten
face wrinkled as he frowned.

"Ah'll think. Maidie, you're the one for remembering . . . Let's see, he died three years ago, and 'twas about a year before."

"It was September four years ago. I remember how upset you were, Luke. Fair broke your heart."

"Well, the look on that lad's face . . ."

"It couldn't have been easy for Mrs. Stone to have to give Peter the message," Cindy said, and saw the

quick look the two Fairheads gave one another. "You said the quarrel broke his dad's heart, yet he refused to see Peter. It doesn't make sense."

"You're right. We couldn't understand it. Mrs. Stone, none of us liked her any time. Just crazy about that boy of hers, out to get all she could from the poor old man .. ."

"Do you think .. ." Cindy began cautiously. "Do you think Mrs.Stone could have made it up and actually never told Uncle Robert that Peter had come to see him ?"

Again Mr. and Mrs. Fairhead glanced at one another.

"Wouldn't put it past her," said Mrs. Fairhead. "We never did trust her. Luke's always saying the money she spent on running the Castle and we couldn't see where t'had gone."

"You'll be leaving us soon?" Luke Fairhead asked. "I'm sorry."

Cindy smiled at him. "Thanks very much. I'm sorry, too, but I always did know that if Peter turned up, the castle wouldn't be mine. You know, it's strange. I just can't understand it, but . . . but Peter was going to let me have the castle, he said, because he didn't want it and he knew I did, but . . . but then there was that article in the paper.. You saw it, of course ?"

The children had raced away with Bessie, the dog, and now there was only Cindy and the two Fairheads round the table.

"I didn't give that information to the paper. I knew nothing about it," Cindy said almost desperately. "And today that horrible little reporter came and

asked questions and told Peter I'd phoned him and told him about the American offer. I knew nothing about it."

Luke Fairhead leaned forward and patted her hand. "Don't fret so, lass. We know that."

"Peter doesn't believe me." Cindy heard the desperate note in her voice and stopped.

"Another cup of tea, love ?" Mrs. Fairhead asked tactfully, rising to take the cup and fill it.

"That doesn't sound like our Peter," commented Luke.

"Well, as I said, the reporter told Peter I had phoned him and told him that if I inherited the castle I would sell it to the American, and I didn't." Again, Cindy heard her voice rise.

Mrs. Fairhead put the cup of tea on the table. "There, love, don't let it fret you. I'm sure no one with sense would believe you'd do a thing like that."

"Peter does," said Cindy, and sipped the hot sweet tea gratefully.

Afterwards she told them about the diary she had found.

"I felt rather awful about reading it, but.. . but I wanted to know more about Uncle Robert and . . . and honestly, he seemed awfully upset about Peter and blamed himself."

"Has Peter read it?" Luke asked.

"Not yet. I'm giving it to him when I leave at the end of the week because I haven't finished it. It's terribly tiny writing and I'm afraid Peter might be too impatient to read it and miss the important parts. About the letters, I mean. Peter told me that he got back all the letters he wrote to his father, they were

returned unopened. Yet Uncle Robert says how he longs for a letter. And I want to see if I can trace the entry of September, four years ago, and see what he says then about Peter's visit. I can't understand why he refused to see Peter when he kept writing about him."

"If ... he refused," Maidie Fairhead said slowly. "I never did trust that Stone woman."

"You think she may have ?" Cindy looked at them. "I want to be able to say to Peter, read these dates and see what your father really felt. As I said, the writing is terribly small and Peter can be impatient." She smiled. "Oh, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have you both on my side. I wanted to leave, but Peter persuaded me to stay, and yet I feel horribly in the way and . . . and unwanted. It hurts when someone you . . . when someone just refuses to believe you," she added wistfully.

"We're behind you all the way," Luke Fairhead said gravely. "Maybe you've mistook Peter. 'T
’
wasn't the impression I got."

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed noisily.

"I'd better go." Cindy jumped up. "If I'm late for dinner, it'll just give them something else to blame me for."

Both Fairheads went out to see Cindy off in her little grey car.

"Thanks . . . thanks for everything," Cindy called.

Driving back to the castle, she felt happier than she had done for days, for at least the Fairheads were on her side.

Peter was in the hall and opened the door after she had knocked.

"Where have you been?" he asked angrily. "You had me worried."

"I wanted to see Mr. Fairhead."

"Was it important ?" Peter demanded.

Cindy looked up at him. Should she tell him, now?

she wondered. Or would it be better to wait until she

could give specific facts and dates to look up?

"Yes, it was," she said coldly, and walked by him.

"I think I'll have an early night. I'm tired." "Come and have a drink," he said, taking her

anorak off and leading the way to the drawing-room. Yvonne glanced up from where she sat by the fire. "I thought you'd gone," she said, her voice implying

that it was a pity Cindy hadn't.

The Fairheads' loyalty and belief in her had heightened Cindy's courage, so she laughed :

"I promised Peter I'd stay till the end of the week." Yvonne frowned. "It seems daft to me, it can only hurt you more."

"On the contrary," Cindy said almost
light heartedly
, "I'm thoroughly enjoying it."

After dinner, they were having coffee in the drawing-room and talking when Mrs. Stone opened the door and said, her voice stiff :

"Mr. Baxter . . . Mr. David Baxter."

Cindy looked up, startled, staring at the man she had mistaken for Peter. Now she saw the two of them together, she could see how foolish she had been.

"David !" Peter stood up and went, hand outstretched. The two men stood side by side, so alike and yet so completely different. Peter's skin was suntanned whereas David's was florid. Peter's hair was

cut short whereas David's was much longer, curling slightly. Peter's smile was friendly—David's sour.

"I thought I'd better look in and welcome you home," he said.

"I'm glad you did. Look, Yvonne, I want you to meet my cousin, David."

David smiled more graciously as he nodded to Yvonne, whose face had brightened when she saw him.

"And this is Cindy. I think you've met." Peter's voice rippled with laughter.

"Met ?" David frowned. "Not exactly."

Peter had to laugh. "She thought you were me." "She did ?" David looked startled. "That explains "

Cindy pushed her glasses up a little. "Yes, I thought you were Peter that day you bumped into me at the post office."

"We're not alike," David told her quickly.

"We are in a way," said Peter. "Cindy, when she first met me, wasn't wearing her glasses, so she didn't really know what I looked like."

David began to laugh and the two men, looking at Cindy, laughed together. Yvonne sat quietly, looking disdainfully away from Cindy as if Cindy
had done something offensive.

"I forgot them that day."

"I know," said Peter. "You were so excited. Anyhow, what about a drink, David? Sit down. It's been a long time."

"You knew I bought your father's business?" David asked, sitting next to Yvonne but looking at Peter who was handling the bottles.