The House of Seven Fountains (26 page)

BOOK: The House of Seven Fountains
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A
week
later
Tom took her temperature, checked her pulse and said, “You must be getting pretty bored with this room. I think we’ll let you out for half an hour.”

“You’re coddling me. I’m perfectly well again,” she said, smiling.

“Think so? Let’s see you get up, then.”

Pushing the bedclothes aside she swung her legs over the side and felt for her slippers. But when she stood up her knees seemed to have turned to jelly, and she grabbed at him for support.

He caught her neatly around the waist.

“Perfectly well, eh?”

“It’s only my legs that are groggy,” she said vexedly.

“You’ve had a nasty bout of heat exhaustion. You must take things easily,” he said seriously.

Her dressing gown was on the end of the bed, and he helped her into it and carried her out to the courtyard. Tea was laid ready on the wicker table by the swing couch, and he poured out two cups and put the sandwiches where she could reach them.

“So it’s all fixed that Anna and the children are to move in here when you go?” he said presently.

“Yes, we settled it when she came over this morning, and Chen is staying on to help her. I was worried about the others, but Ah Kim has suddenly produced a
fiancé
—he’s an assistant at the Cold Storage Emporium—and the boys have got jobs with army families. So everything has worked out very well,” she ended, thinking,
well for everyone but me.

In spite of her illness, the past week had been a strangely happy time for her. Tom had come to the house twice a day, and his gentleness was something she would always remember. She knew, of course, that there was nothing personal in his kindness. He treated all his patients with the same care and concern. But when you were in love even the crumbs were better than nothing, she thought sadly.


I haven’t thanked you for looking after me,” she said aloud. “You’ve been very kind.”

“Wait till you get my bill.” His glance was teasing.

“How long will it be before I can leave?” she asked.

“Are you so anxious to get away?”

“Having taken this job, I can’t delay indefinitely.”

“I suppose not. I should say you’ll be fit to travel in two weeks providing you take things easily in the meantime.” He paused. “I thought perhaps you might be considering staying on to help Anna. She’ll need an assistant now.”

“Yes, she did suggest that I should. But I think it’s best to go,” she answered quietly.

“You’ll certainly have more opportunities in Rangore.”


Opportunities?”

“To meet people of your own age.”

“Do I seem so very young to you?”

He eyed the bright cotton dressing gown and, beneath it, the rose-sprigged legs of her pajamas. Her hair was tied back with a yellow ribbon, and without lipstick her mouth was soft and innocent.

“At the moment you look about sixteen,” he said, smiling.

“A mere child!” The retort was tinged with bitterness.

“I didn’t say that. There was nothing childish about turning the house into a hospital and wearing yourself out with nursing.”

“Even children can be useful in emergencies. Why does everyone of your age regard my age as being one degree removed from adolescence?”

He laughed. “Sour grapes, probably. Check your own reactions in five years’ time.”

Five years’ time. Where will
I
be then,
she wondered bleakly. “I wish I were thirty!” she said abruptly.

By then it would be all over. By then she might have begun to forget that there had ever been a man called Tom Stransom. “Why thirty?” he inquired with amusement.

“Because if I were thirty you wouldn’t treat me like a silly little schoolgirl.”

“And you wouldn’t be so transparent.

His voice held an odd note.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know why you’re angry, or shall I tell you?”

Her hands locked together.

“You want me to acknowledge that you’re a woman. That’s why I said you should be among people of your own age.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she said in a strained voice.

He leaned forward and unclasped her tightly clenched hands. “Look,” he said gently. “The night we went to the ball and all those youngsters wanted to dance with you, remember? Didn’t you feel that because you were a girl, and a very lovely one, you had a special kind of power over them?”

He was watching her intently, and she felt the color creeping up her throat.


It’s quite natural that you should,

he went on. “But if you try to exert that power over men who are older than you it becomes dangerous. A man of my age doesn’t react like a boy. I’d hoped you would understand that after what happened at my bungalow the other night.”
Her cheeks flamed.

“No!” she said abruptly. “I don’t understand! I never tried to ... to entice you to kiss me.”

“Not consciously perhaps. But you wondered if I would. And when I did you were scared stiff.”

She stared at him in genuine astonishment.

“Don’t misinterpret me. The thing was entirely my fault, I forgot how young you were. But that is precisely why you should be with your own age-group until you’ve learned to tackle these situations,” he finished sternly.

“I see,” she said tonelessly. “I’ll try to remember that. I suppose that was why you were angry when you thought I’d been letting Julian kiss me. Because he’s older than I am.”

His face stiffened for an instant, and then he shrugged and said briefly, “Something like that.”

There seemed nothing else to say, and presently he glanced at his watch and stood up.

“You can stay out here for a bit longer if you like, but I want you to be in bed by six. I’ll look in tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said dully.

He put out a hand and ruffled her hair.

“Sleep tight,
kuching
.”

O
ne
morning
she was sitting in the courtyard watching a house lizard creeping cautiously up the wall toward an unwary butterfly when Ah Kim came to tell her that Miss Maitland wanted to see her.

Not another scene surely, Vivien thought.


Mem
say very important,” Ah Kim told her.

“All right, show her in,” Vivien said with a slight shrug.

As usual Cara was immaculately groomed in a white shirt and a black denim skirt embroidered with red and white raffia flowers.

“Good morning. I hope you are feeling better,” she said.

“Yes, I am, thank you. Won’t you sit down?”

Cara did so and removed her sunglasses. It was then that Vivien noticed something unusual about her. For a second or two she could not place it until, with a shock, she realized that Cara had been crying. In spite of the girl’s clever makeup, there were unmistakable signs of tears on her lovely face.

“What is it? Are you in trouble?” Vivien said quickly. Instinctively she knew that Cara would never cry unless something was seriously wrong, and forgetting the circumstances of their last meeting, she felt a quick concern.

For an instant Cara looked as if she were going to deny that she was, or had been recently, upset. Then her shoulders sagged, and she made a helpless gesture.

“I don’t really know why I’ve come here, Miss Connell,” she said in a low, hopeless voice.

“For heaven’s sake stop calling me Miss Connell,” Vivien said impatiently. “And never mind about what happened last time. Tell me what’s the matter. Is you
r
father
...
?”

“No, no. Father’s fine.” Cara swept that aside. “It’s Julian.”

“Julian?”

Cara closed her eyes and took a deep breath as if finding courage for what she had to say.

“I’m in love with him!”

In the brief interval Vivien had imagined half a dozen frightful possibilities. Julian killed in a car smash. Julian bitten by a deadly snake. Julian in prison.

She gave a shaky gasp that was half a laugh. Then, seeing Cara’s stark face and guessing the pitch of desperation that had driven her to making the extraordinary admission, she recovered herself and said gently, “I know you are.”

“You know?”

“Yes, I’ve known it for a long time.”

Cara stared at her incredulously, and then she began to laugh. At first it was a low chuckle that gradually grew louder until the girl was shaking with shrill hysterical laughter.

Springing up, Vivien brought the flat of her hand down hard against the girl’s cheek. She winced as Cara’s head jerked sideways under the stinging force of the slap, but it had the right effect. The frenzied laughter broke off in a yelp of pain, and then Cara’s blue eyes filled with tears that spilled over and trailed forlornly down her pale cheeks.

“Don’t cry. There isn’t anything to cry about,” Vivien said compassionately, putting her arm about Cara’s bowed shoulders. “Here, take my handkerchief.”

“I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have told you.” Cara’s voice was muffled.

“Of course you should have come. We ought to have been friends a long time ago,” Vivien answered warmly.

Now, tell me what’s the matter. Perhaps I can help.”

Cara blew her nose and dried her eyes. Then she straightened up and gave a long quivering sigh.

“You’re the last person to help,” she said sadly. “Julian’s in love with you.”

“Of course he isn’t, you goose. Julian and I have never been more than friends.”

“But he told me that he’d asked you to marry him,” Cara said, fresh tears welling up.

“Did he, indeed? And did he tell you what my answer was?”

“No.” Cara sniffed and bit her lip to stem the treacherous trembling.

We had a row. That was the last thing he said. Then he went off.”

“I see. Well, it’s fairly obvious that you said something that riled him, and he made the first retaliation that came into his head.”

“Then it’s true?”

“In a way. He did ask me to marry him. But he didn’t mean
it.”

“He would never ask if he didn’t mean it,” Cara said desolately. “He’s always been scared of marriage.”


Look, it’s high time we had a talk with the gloves off,” Vivien said determinedly.

I’ve wanted to tell you this for ages, but we’ve always been at loggerheads in a polite, civilized way.
Julian only asked me to marry him in a fit of temper against someone else. And that someone else was you.”

“But that’s—”

“Don’t interrupt,” Vivien said crisply. “I suppose you and he are the only people for miles around who don’t realize that you’re in love with each other. I guessed as much the first time I met you at the club. I asked him about you once, and he refused to discuss it in a way that confirmed my suspicions. Now, for goodness’ sake, why doesn’t one of you have the gumption to tell the other? One word from either of you, and the whole silly muddle could be cleared up.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t believe you,” Cara said in a stunned voice.

“All right, don’t! Go on being miserable. Go on pretending you don’t care a jot about him and that you’re having a lovely time flirting with all those stupid subalterns with their pop-eyed faces and fancy whiskers. Perhaps you like the idea of being a lonely old spinster,” Vivien said crossly. “Why did you come here anyway?”

Cara slumped down in the chair, twisting the sodden handkerchief in her thin fingers.

“I wanted to talk to somebody. I haven’t any friends. My father would never understand. All he thinks about is the army.”

“And now I suppose you’ll go home and repair your face and try to forget you made a fool of yourself?” Vivien suggested caustically.

Oh, Cara, have some sense. Julian loves you. Anyone would tell you that if you asked them.”

Cara stared broodingly at the pavement for a while.

“And if he does?” she said at last. “What can I do about it?”

“Tell him the truth. Forget that you’re the glamorous Cara Maitland with a train of groveling admirers and look at it from Julian’s angle.”

“But what
is
his angle?” Cara exclaimed miserably.

“Well, from what he’s told me, Julian’s never had any kind of love. As a little boy he seems to have been left to the care of nursemaids, and then he was sent off to a public school. His parents were nearly always away during the holidays, and as far as I can make out the only person he was fond of was an old butler who died when he was sixteen. Oh, I’ve no doubt he had all the luxuries—lots of expensive toys and far too much pocket money and a sports car when he was seventeen, but that doesn’t
make for security. After that I suppose he had lots of girls thrown at his head by matchmaking mothers. He admits that his father packed him out here because of some scandal he was mixed up in. The result is that he’s adopted this cynical pose, and he’s afraid to drop it.”

“He isn’t like that with you,” Cara said.

“He was at first. It’s become a habit.”

Cara thought this over for some time, absently reaching for her bag and lighting a cigarette. Vivien noticed that she forgot to use a cigarette holder.

“But I can’t possibly go to him and say point-blank that I’m crazy about him,” she said presently.

“Why not? Look, can’t you see that the only thing that holds you back is pride, and when you want something very badly you can’t afford to be proud.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know what to think,” Cara said with a long sigh.

I shouldn’t be worrying you with my affairs. You still look awfully worn down. Is it true that you’re leaving Mauping quite soon?”

“Yes, quite true. I’ve got a job in Rangore, and Miss Buxton is taking over the house for her orphans.”

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic,” Cara said.

“I’m not,” Vivien admitted. “I’d give anything to stay, but it isn’t possible.”

Before Cara could reply there was a movement near the archway and they saw Tom coming toward them. Seeing Cara he hesitated.

“Good afternoon. Am I interrupting you?”

“No, no, I was just leaving,” Cara said quickly. She turned to Vivien. “May I come to see you again?”

“Of course. I’m glad you did today.”

The two girls exchanged understanding glances and Cara said quietly, “I think you may be right. I’ll think it over.”

When she had gone Tom said, “I didn’t know you were friendly with Cara.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

He made a noncommittal gesture and then said, “I shouldn’t have thought you would have had much in common.”

“The ugly duckling and the swan, you mean?” Vivien said, smiling.

To her surprise he took her seriously. “You are far better looking than she is. Her coloring won’t last more than ten years or so, but beautiful bone structure is permanent. You’ll be a very handsome old lady.”

He couldn’t possibly know what the compliment did to her, of course.
Don't be kind to me now, not now,
she thought achingly. Outwardly she schooled herself to smile again.

“I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying as I arrived. About wanting to stay here.”

She shifted nervously. “I shall be sorry to leave the house. That’s only natural.”

“Then why go?”

“I’ve accepted a job. I can’t turn it down now.”

“I don’t see why not. As matter of fact, I’ve never understood why you applied for it in the first place. There are several suitable jobs here.”

“I wanted to leave Mauping,” she said, wishing he would leave it alone.

“But you just told Cara that you would give anything to stay,” he remarked.

“Oh, Tom, stop cross-examining me!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “It’s settled and that’s that.”

He gave her a quick, intent look.

“Are you sure it hasn’t anything to do with Barclay?”

Vivien jumped up and plunged her clenched fists into the pockets of her skirt with such violence that the seams almost burst.

“I’ve told you Julian means absolutely nothing to me. If you must know he’s in love with Cara and she with him. Does that satisfy you?”

“It puzzles me that you should be so edgy merely because I want to make certain you’re doing the right thing,” he said coolly.

“It isn’t necessary for you to concern yourself with my welfare. I’m quite capable of fending for myself,” Vivien retorted, struggling to keep her voice level.

“So you’ve told me before,” he reminded her. “Why do you resent my trying to help you? It’s part of my job.”


I don’t resent it. It’s merely that you are trying to discover a problem where there isn’t one,” she said tautly.

“Have it your own way,” he said with a resigned shrug. “I wonder if you’ll ever surrender that fierce independence?”

“You forget that I’ve only had it for a short time,” she answered.

“Are you implying that I am trying to bully you like your dragon of an aunt?”

At that she turned to him and said swiftly, “No, of course not. I know you mean to be kind.”

“But you don’t need kindness, is that it?”

“Perhaps.”

“Are you leaving Mauping because of me?” he asked abruptly.

Her eyes widened and two spots of color flamed in her cheeks. “What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

She swallowed. “I don’t dislike you,” she replied huskily. “But you would agree that we’ve never really hit it off?”

“Sometimes we have. Sometimes we’ve got on very well.” He made an impatient movement.

“Why don’t you speak the truth?” he said harshly. “Why
not admit that you’ve always resented my interference in your affairs and that ever since I kissed you you’ve been like a cat on hot bricks for fear I’d make some more unwelcome advances? Every time I touch you, I feel you stiffen.”

“That isn’t true!” she burst out hotly. “It was the way you kissed me that I hated. As if
...
as if you were trying to punish me for something.”

He stared at her narrowly for a moment.

“Perhaps I was,” he said on an odd note. “Perhaps you reminded me of something that I had succeeded in forgetting.”

Vivien was too strung up to measure her words.

“You mean your
fiancée
,” she said bluntly.

He tensed. “What do you know about that?”

“Only that you were engaged to a girl who married someone else.”

To her astonishment he grinned.

“So Anna regaled you with some of my past history, did she?” he observed dryly. “It’s strange how no woman will ever believe that a man remains single simply because he prefers it. They insist on finding some hidden motive. Under that rough front, even Anna has some foolish notions. I suppose she spun you a pathetic tale about how as an impressionable youth I was let down and it’s set me against women for life. Is that it?”

“Yes, something like that,” Vivien admitted in embarrassment.

“It’s true in part,” Tom said flatly. “I took a bad knock a long time ago, but contrary to feminine beliefs very few men allow a misguided love affair to wreck their whole lives, my dear.”


Then why aren’t you married?

Vivien said. It was the first
thing
that came into her head and was out before she could check it.

“For the very practical reason that I never met anyone I wanted to marry,” he said levelly.

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