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Authors: Sara Seale

Then She Fled Me (34 page)

BOOK: Then She Fled Me
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Kathy, will you listen to me?

she
pleaded.

I did give you away to Adrian, but it was through a misunderstanding. I thought—well, anyway I had an idea then he might be fond of you himself and I—I stupidly said the wrong thing. I would never have let him know what you felt if I

d realized he—he didn

t feel the same. You
must
believe me,
Kathy—I was thinking only of you. I didn

t want
you to be hurt.


If you

d let us alone, he might have ... I might not have
...
Why do you always have to interfere? With me and Joe and now with Adrian ... I suppose you laughed together and compared notes on poor, love-sick Kathy.


Kathy, how can you! You know neither of us would want to laugh over something that mattered to you so much. Adrian was only sorry you had misunderstood his little attentions. Kathy, darling, you

re such a child. Don

t you understand that you read too much into just ordinary civilities and that though you are so exquisite, every man who pays you a compliment isn

t necessarily in love, with you?


What do you know about love?

demanded Kathy.


Not much,

Sarah replied humbly.

But enough to guess that what you felt for Adrian wasn

t real, Kathy. You made a dream round him, darling. Don

t you see that it was all a make-believe—a game you played with yourself that began to come true?

Kathy sat looking at her with her hyacinth blue eyes drowned in tears. Would she, wondered Sarah anxiously, take this way out? Would she have the sense to salvage her hurt pride with a realization of the truth?


You were playing a game,

she said again.

You were having us on—me and Joe and Adrian, weren

t you?

Kathy gave a long sigh.


Yes,

she said at last,

that must have been it. I was playing a game with you all, and I have such a strong imagination that I almost believed it true. Will you tell Adrian that?


He knows it already, darling. He never took you seriously.


And I never took him really seriously.

Two bright spots of color came into Kathy

s cheeks. Her tears had dried.

He

s intelligent, cultured, but he

ll never
do for me. He

s too cold, too wrapped up in himself. It was because he was
the
Adrian Flint that I felt—well, privileged to kno
w
him. I thought we had a common basis in music, but that

s over for him and now—well, he

s just a man like anyone else—he

s just the Flinty One.


Oh, Kathy!

Sarah suddenly wanted to cry. How little her sister could understand a man like Adrian, but it was best that way, perhaps.

Yes, darling,

she said gently.

He

s just the Flinty One. I knew you

d understand.

Kathy did not appear for supper and Aunt Em told Adrian she had gone to bed with a headache. Sarah did not meet his eyes, but when later on in the evening he found an opportunity to say to her

You

re the one who looks as if she

s got a headache. Is anything wrong?

she answered guiltily:


Oh, Adrian, she heard us. She was in the snug and heard us on the terrace.


I

m sorry about that,

he said quietly.

But it may do good in the long run, you know. Clear the whole matter up once and for all.


You do like things cut and dried, don

t you?


I dislike loose ends. Did she take it badly?


At first it was awful. I felt a perfect swine. But later she began to come round to your view of make-believe. I told her she

d been playing a game with herself and having us on. She seemed pleased with the idea.

“She’ll cling to that until she really believes it,” he said with a smile. ‘There’s a lot to be said for Kathy’s men
t
ality.”

“You’ve never had much
opinion of Kathy, have you?” Sarah said wondering
l
y, and he replied:

“My dear, your sister has an exquisite face but a great deal of stupidity.”


She

s just an inexperienced child.


She

s two years older than you, may I remind you, Miss Riordan. You

re something of an
inexperienced child yourself.


I

m far older than Kathy. I always have been.


Well, Kathy hasn

t got much beyond the schoolgirl stage, as far as I can see, and I wouldn

t mind betting she never does. I find these perpetual Peter Pans rather tiresome, I

m afraid. Sarah—-don

t look at me like that! You don

t imagine I

m putting you in that category, do you?


Sometimes,

she said,

you make such sweeping statements and I—I get confused. We can

t help being young and inexperienced, Kathy and I.

They were in the nursery
.
She had come up as usual to fetch his tray and had stayed to talk. He reached up a hand and pulled her down to the rug beside his chair.


You, my darling child, are quite different,

he said a little roughly.

Sometimes your youth is touching and sad and quite defeats me, but that is another matter altogether. Sarah, so often I want only to be gentle with you and I find myself being harsh, superficial. Don

t ever think I confuse you with someone like Kathy.


You were always gentle with Kathy,

she said, unsure of what he really meant.

She thought that was a sign you were fond of her. Lovers, she said, are always gentle.


Shows what a lot she knows!

he observed with humor.

Lovers are not gentle, my dear, they are often touchy, passionate creatures with a desire to possess all of the loved one and bite when they feel shut out.

She looked up at him, wrinkling her forehead, uncertain of him in this mood.


What are you trying to tell me, Adrian?

she asked.

He smoothed the lines from her forehead with a gentle thumb and forefinger.


Nothing as yet, perhaps,

he said.

Do you remember me telling you to think things over while I was away?


Yes, but I got so confused round about that time. I told you it was like when my father died.


Still confusing me with your father

s memory?


Not exactly. It

s so difficult to explain. The feeling started that night you found me in the snow, I think. You did the things I would always have liked him to have done.
You made me feel safe and—and cared for. It sounds rather silly, doesn

t it?

He drew her head back against his knee and his fingers smoothed the soft fringe on her forehead.


No, I think it sounds rather pathetic,

he said.

Go on confusing me if you
m
ust, Sarah. It will work out.

There was a light knock on the door and Kathy looked in.


Aunt Em wants to know
—”
she began, then she looked at Sarah sitting on the floor, at Adrian

s hand on her hair, and her color rose.

Aunt Em wants to know where you put the key of the bureau,

she said sharply.

You

d better come down and find it yourself. You

ve been up here quite long enough, and Nonie wants the tray.

Sarah scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room, and Kathy picked up the tray.


Just a minute,

Adrian said.


Well?

She stood holding the tray, the color mounting still higher in her cheeks.


Can

t you forget your annoyance with me?

he said.

Try and remember I

m only the lodger—you

ll find that will help a lot.


I do,

she said.

I

ve no grudge against you, Adrian. After tonight I understand a lot better.

Do you? And what do you understand?

“I
understand my sister very much better than I did before.


I don

t think you do,

he said gravely.

And I shouldn

t jump to too many conclusions if
I were you.


I don

t know what you mean,

she said.

Nonie wants the tray
.
Goodnight.


I mean, don

t take it out on Sarah, will you?

he said gently.


I haven

t the faintest idea what you

re talking about,

she replied, and tears trembled on her long lashes.


I think you have,

he said.

Goodnight.

Danny had gone to bed and only Aunt Em was in the snug when Kathy came down.


Where

s Sarah?

s
he demanded.

Her aunt looked up at the unfamiliar bite in her voice.

She

s finding the key, dear. Is anything the matter?

she said.


Oh, Aunt Em!

Kathy suddenly burst into tears and ran across the room to bury her face in her aunt

s lap.

You

re the only one who

s ever understood me since Father died—you and Joe. My own sister whom I trusted, plotting and scheming with that—that
sna
k
e
up there. Aunt Em, I

m so wretched
...”

BOOK: Then She Fled Me
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