Winter at Cray (17 page)

His answer was a short harsh laugh, as if he resented the question being asked.
‘
You really
do
think I
’
m a vulture, don
’
t you
?’
he asked.
‘
Anything for a story— is that the idea? No holds barred as long as it
’
s good for business.
’

‘
I didn
’
t say that!
’
She was stung into her usual anger by his sarcasm and felt the sharp prickle of threatening tears in her eyes.
‘
You don
’
t know what it was like before.
’

‘
I don
’
t,
’
he admitted,
‘
but I can guess. The only thing I object to is being treated like some sort of monster because the press boys gave you a bad time over the court case. That
is
the reason you
’
re so prickly, isn
’
t it?
’

‘
A bad time!
’
She clenched her hands together almost involuntarily, a desperate, far-away look in her eyes. Back in those dark, seemingly endless days, four and a half years ago.
‘
They had a field day while it lasted, because Simon was French, I suppose, it added a little spice to the proceedings.
’
She realised how bitter she sounded when she saw the way he looked at her, but she had never before been quite so frank about it to anyone, and why he should be the one to inspire her to break her long silence she had no idea, unless it was because of the relief it a
ff
orded her to talk about it.

For so long she had kept determinedly silent about Simon, even to the family, trying to forget him but her very silence keeping him alive and always there. Suppressing it all these years had only made it more difficult to forget, not eased the tension as talking about it would have done, she could see that now. Perhaps, she thought wryly, Henri Dupont had done that much for her.

‘
You don
’
t have to say any more,
’
Jonathan told her quietly.
‘
I see your point, and I
’
m sorry.
’

‘
Maybe,
’
Emma Kincaid suggested, breaking her long silence,
‘
it would be a good thing to bring it all out into the open and talk about it for a change
—
after all,
you
’
ve
nothing to be ashamed of.
’

Louise laughed shortly, almost forgetting who would be listening. His stillness, she thought, denoted interest but not avid curiosity.
‘
Nothing to be ashamed of? The family thought differently for quite a while, didn
’
t they?
’
she asked, and the old lady, nodded reluctant agreement.

‘
You couldn
’
t altogether blame them, girl,
’
she argued gently.
‘
It was all very quiet and hush-hush at the start. No one knew him and you didn
’
t bring him to see any of us, did you
?’

Louise shook her head, eyes lowered, remembering.
‘
I—I don
’
t quite know why I didn
’
t,
’
she admitted.
‘
But I suppose it was the circumstances. A mysterious romance seemed so—I don
’
t know—so exciting, I suppose. I was only twenty-one, after all, barely that.
’
Old Emma sat watching her, willing her to go on now that she had started, and she found herself more than willing to comply. She had never thought it would be this easy to talk about it.
‘
I was on holiday in France
,’
she went on, her eyes distant as she remembered.
‘
I was alone and when I met Simon—
’
She might almost have been alone then and talking to herself.
‘
My parents were abroad, as they usually are, and we came back to this country together. We were married oh, so quietly, just Simon and I and two people we called on from the street, two strangers. We
—
I was so much in love and there seemed to be no reason to make a big fuss. I had all I needed in Simon and I thought he had in me. Then—
’
She spread her hands in a gesture both explicit and appealing, and oddly foreign, perhaps prompted by her memory.
‘
He stayed with me for just five weeks and then it started.
’

Jonathan blinked his surprise, and she looked at him for a moment unseeingly.
‘
Five weeks?
’
he echoed.

Louise nodded.
‘
Five weeks. I wasn
’
t the rich girl he took me for, as his brother told you. I had a generous allowance, but not generous enough for Simon, and my father was far too young a man to make me an attractive prospect as an heiress. I suppose, in a way
,’
she admitted, remembering Henri Dupont
’
s accusation,
‘
Simon
was
cheated.
’

She sat for a moment or two in silence, her mind busy with so many things that could have been and never were, and it was Jonathan
’
s deep, quiet voice that broke into her no-man
’
s-land of blankness.

‘
I seem to remember that there was another woman, wasn
’
t there
?’
he ventured.

‘
Other
women
,’
she corrected him, and without the malice she had expected to emerge when she spoke of it.
‘
There were several over the next few months and he laughed when I went to see him.
’
For a moment she fought with the humiliation of it.
‘
I knew I was expecting Robert, you see, and I went to see him to .ask him to come back, for the sake of the baby, but
—
he laughed at me.
’
That had been hardest of all, she thought, his laughing like that, it had shattered her far more than anything else he had yet done, and with the baby only weeks away, it had seemed worse.
‘
He laughed at me.
’
She repeated it as if, even now, she found it hard to believe.

‘
He would.
’
She stared at him for a moment suspiciously, wondering if he was excusing Simon
’
s behaviour or merely passing comment. Deciding it was the latter, she shrugged and went on. .

‘
I suppose so,
’
she admitted,
‘
only I couldn
’
t see it like that then. He was—drunk with the power of his own attraction, I can see that now. He could have any woman he wanted, he said, why should he want me? Then he flung open those balcony doors, it was so bright and sunny for late autumn, and he was so
—
so flamboyant. It was a gesture, of course, a sort of gesture of defiance, and then—then he fell.
’

It sounded so flat and cold said like that, not nearly as dramatic as it had sounded in court, nor as emotional as she had anticipated in the repeating.

‘
The verdict was accidental death, wasn
’
t it?
’

She met his eyes directly, a sparkle of defiance in her own.
‘
Yes. But it was touch and go whether or not I was accused. Quite a few people thought I could have pushed Simon out of that window, I think, and obviously Henri Dupont is one of them.
’

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘
THERE seems to be some trouble getting through on the phone,
’
Jonathan informed Louise a couple of mornings later. She was dressing Robert for outdoors and was already wearing her own dark green hooded coat and long boots to keep out the cold.

She glanced up when he spoke and frowned over the information.
‘
Oh, is the line down, or is it just a case of the colly-wobbles
?’

‘
I think it must be the colly-wobbles,
’
he told her solemnly,
‘
because I can hear a faint and rather irate Scottish voice telling me to
“
hauld the line
”
, but so far the only result it
’
s produced is an odd crackling noise.
’

‘
There is trouble this time of the year sometimes,
’
she told him, unable to resist smiling at the attempted Scottish accent,
‘
but it doesn
’
t last long as a rule. Was it a very important call
?’

‘
In a way,
’
he admitted,
‘
although I don
’
t suppose kingdoms will be lost if I don
’
t get through. It
’
s just that I
’
ve been trying for a couple of days now and it won
’
t be worth bothering about soon—at least I hope it won
’
t.
’

It was an ambiguous statement and she suspected he was waiting for her to query it, but she kept quiet and went on buttoning Robert into his coat and scarf. She had sought to avoid him for the last couple of days, feeling oddly shy with him since her moment of
confidence two days before, although his manner towards her had been no different.

‘
There
’
s been no more snow at least,
’
she said.
‘
That
’
s something to be thankful for.
’

He eyed her for a moment thoughtfully.
‘
Is there likely to be a boat calling in the next day or so?
’

‘
There may be,
’
she replied, flicking a glance at his face, seeking a reason for his asking.
‘
Have you decided not to stay for the party after all? Perhaps you
’
re tired of the wilderness.
’

He looked surprised for a moment to hear his own disparaging description of the island used, then he shook his head, recognising her unspoken hope that he might have decided to leave.
‘
Sorry to disappoint you,
’
he told her,
‘
but I
’
ve grown quite acclimatised, as a matter of fact. I was just checking, that
’
s all.
’
He watched her for a moment in silence and she found her fingers unaccustomedly clumsy.
‘
Are you and Robert going for a walk
?’
She nodded without adding the invitation he obviously expected.

‘
Only as far as the pier and back, it
’
s not possible to go further because of the snow.
’

‘
I don
’
t suppose you
’
d consider inviting me,
’
he told her with a grin,
‘
so I
’
m inviting myself. If you object to my company you can always pretend I
’
m not there.
’

She glanced at him briefly.
‘
Come by all means,
’
she declared,
‘
I
’
m sure Robert would welcome your company.
’

‘
Fair enough,
’
he allowed,
‘
it
’
s a more gracious answer than I expected.
’
He cocked a quizzical brow at her.
‘
Will you extend the grace as far as waiting while I fetch a coat
?’
he asked and, when she nodded,
headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time, turning to grin at Robert over his shoulder.

He was down again almost before Robert had time to express his delight to Louise and dance a little dance of triumph in the hall.
‘Y
ou ready now?
’
Robert asked as he rejoined them, and he nodded.

He was wearing the thick sheepskin coat he had worn the first time she saw him and the collar of a sweater showed at the neck, warm and practical. He looked the complete countryman, Louise thought as they left the house, even if he did claim to be a town man.

Below them the tiny cluster of cottages had a Christmas card look, lying to their left, thickly surrounded by snow, as yet unsullied except where a way had been cleared through to an outhouse or for the few sheep and cattle to huddle closer to the buildings.

It was a breathtaking view from the top of the hill and she glanced at his face to see if he appreciated it. He surveyed the undulating whiteness, edged with the surly grey-green of the water, writhing about the ragged coast, and he looked as if he found it unexpectedly impressive, although he did not say so.

The whipping winds that kept the boats still in harbour soon brought colour to their cheeks and Robert was shrilly delighted with the deep, untrodden snow that edged the path all the way down the steep incline to the pier.

‘
It seemed a much steeper slope than this when we arrived
,’
Jonathan remarked, and the slow smile teased her as he added,
‘
but then I was carrying Essie
’
s suitcases, of course.
’

Louise shrugged off the reminder, feeling the inevitable flick of resentment.
‘
I
’
m sorry about
t
hat,
’
she told him,
‘
but William
was
very busy and I couldn
’
t ask him to come down with me.
’

‘
Oh, I didn
’
t mind in the least,
’
he assured her solemnly.
‘
I
’
m used to humping Essie
’
s stuff around all over the place. I only wish I
’
d followed her example this time, though, and brought more stuff myself, but I didn
’
t expect such a long stay.
’

‘
You
’
re bored?
’
she asked, and he shook his head.
‘
Not in the least,
’
he replied,
‘
but I
’
ve had to make eyes at your Hannah to get something to wash my odds and ends with. I
’
m used to fending for myself, but I
did
need some soap powder or something and there wasn
’
t a shop I could run to.
’
He smiled at her broadly.
‘
Hannah was most obliging.
’

‘
I
’
m sure she would be,
’
Louise agreed, thinking how he would have charmed his way round the housekeeper,
‘
but you had no need to do your own laundry, you know, it could have been done with the rest.
’

‘
So Hannah told me,
’
he said,
‘
but I prefer to be independent.
’

Louise wondered just how independent he had been. It was quite possible that Essie had done the job for him. They must be fairly used to being stranded together, Essie had admitted as much, and she thought he would be the one to profit most from the situation. Once more she speculated on just how close his association with his colleague was, aside from the professional aspect. She was more inclined to speculate now that she knew he was not averse to women
’
s company or to flirtation.

‘
Penny for them.
’
His voice startled her out of her reverie and she looked at him for a moment, then shook her head.

‘
I was just thinking,
’
she told him,
‘
how interesting it must be going around all over the place as you and Essie do.
’

‘
It has its moments,
’
he admitted slowly, as if he sought some deeper meaning behind her words.
‘
And I don
’
t always work with Essie, you know, it depends on several factors who my photographer is, but I must admit it
’
s more fun as a rule with Essie.
’

‘
I imagine so,
’
she agreed noncommittally. It would never do to let him think she was any more than politely interested.

He studied her for a moment.
‘
You
should get around more, see something more of the world than a small island and a handful of people.
’

‘
I see enough of the world,
’
she said shortly, seeing the inevitable argument looming and determined to avoid it if possible.
‘
All I want to see of it.
’

‘
You can
’
t go on feeling sorry for yourself for ever,
’
he told her bluntly.
‘
Isn
’
t four and a half years long enough for anybody?
’

She turned a flushed and angry face to him, glad that Robert was further down the hill, shrilling his delight to the cold wind.
‘
Is that how you look at it
?’
she asked stiffly.
‘
You think I
’
m sorry for myself?
’
He did not answer immediately and she took his silence for regret.
‘
I
was
under the impression you understood how—how I felt, but apparently I was wrong.
’

‘
Oh, for heaven
’
s sake don
’
t take it like that,
’
he protested, a smile on his face that was half plea, half exasperation.
‘
You know quite well what I mean, but you
’
ll fight any suggestion tooth and nail that
’
s likely to take you away from your precious island, won
’
t you?
’
he grinned, when anger kept her silent.
‘
Apart from anything else,
’
he added,
‘
it
’
s such a waste.
’
She feigned not to understand him, but found the deep quiet voice dangerously persuasive as it had sounded when he spoke to Diamond that first time. She had termed it seductive then and she saw no reason to change her mind now, but it would have no effect on her, she decided.

‘
What I do has nothing to do with you,
’
she told him.
‘
Nothing at all.
’

‘
But it
is
a waste,
’
he insisted.
‘
You
’
re a very beautiful woman, you shouldn
’
t be hidden away on an island with two old ladies and a little boy.
’

She shook her head, choosing to ignore the compliment, although she could feel the colour in her face. Wondering if he realised how much his words echoed Stephen
’
s on the same subject.

‘
You sound like Stephen,
’
she told him.
‘
And he says
‘I’ll
have
to leave next year when Robert starts school.
’

He grinned, pleased no doubt that she had responded with less animosity than he expected.
‘
Well, for once I have to agr
e
e with him,
’
he declared.
‘
You can
’
t expect poor old Robert to travel back and forth twice a day to school, can you? Where would he go, anyway?
’
he added.

‘
I haven
’
t thought,
’
she admitted, drawn into discussion despite herself.
‘
It will have to be Broadarren, I suppose. Where you left from last week. The ferry runs from there.
’

He shook his head.
‘
Steamer twice a day for a five-year-old?
’
he said.
‘
You couldn
’
t do it to him, or could you?
’
He eyed her quizzically.
‘
I wouldn
’
t put it past you if it meant you could stay on here.
’