Island-in-Waiting (15 page)

A tremor of unease inched up my spine. “I don't know.”

“I'll have to behave myself, is that it?”

But that wasn't the only reason why I felt a strong reluctance to sit for Ray again.

He reached for my hand and, as I stiffened, said quickly, “Relax, I'm not going to force myself on you. That's been my mistake all along, hasn't it? I'm used to having to fight for what I want but I should have realized it was different with you. You'll come to me in your own good time. I know that now.”

I said with difficulty, “Ray, I tried to explain –”

He lifted my hand to his mouth and held it there while I sat like a rock staring at the shaggy bent head and feeling his lips move over the surface of my palm. And such was the strength of his will that, appalled, I began to wonder if he was right. I tugged my hand free and said breathlessly, “You're wrong, quite wrong. You must believe me.”

“No, my darling,” he said softly, “you must believe me. I'm not one for making pretty speeches but we belong together, you and I. The fact that you came when I called you proves that. I'll wait if I have to; just don't let it be too long.”

I gazed at him speechlessly and he met my look with those deep, burning eyes unwavering on my face.

“Good-night,” I said in a rush, and almost fell out of the car. I had reached the front door before I heard him drive away.

Martha's exclamation on the tartan skirt and Hugo's deceptively casual enquiry about the sitting I dealt with as best I could. In the last ten minutes my relationship with Ray had changed out of all recognition, becoming at the same time deeper and more threatening. For despite my protestations he had felt sure enough of me to commit himself, and that was dangerous. I could only guess at his reaction to any imagined betrayal.

Annette had left some recipe books for me as requested and I was thankful that my contributions to the bazaar would occupy me for most of the day. As I'd anticipated, Martha's store cupboard did not extend to such commodities as yeast, cream of tartar and ground almonds, and it was obvious that a trip to Ramsey would be my first priority.

The Ford's petrol gauge was almost on ‘empty' so I turned into the first garage I came to and had pulled up at the pumps before I realized with a shock that the blue Renault already there belonged to Ray. Hastily I switched on the ignition again, but it was too late. He had come out of the office and caught sight of me, and I reluctantly got out of the car.

“You're out bright and early this morning!” he greeted me.

“So are you. Why aren't you at college?”

“I'm collecting an assortment of petrol tins for a still-life class. Where are you off to?”

“Ramsey. I've a lot of baking to do for the bazaar and need to stock up on supplies.”

“So you'll be spending the day slaving over a hot stove? Come out with me this evening to recuperate!”

“I'm sorry, I can't.”

“Why not?”

“I – already have an engagement.” I kept my eyes on the swiftly moving figures of the petrol pump.

“Have you now? Might I ask what it is?”

My finger nails were digging into my palms. Better this way, I told myself feverishly. He must be made to understand the position and the sooner it was done the less damage might be inflicted.

“Well?” he asked with a touch of impatience. “Is it a state secret?”

“No,” I answered as steadily as I could. “As a matter of fact, I'm having dinner with Neil.”

He stared at me blankly. “The hell you are! You kept pretty quiet about that yesterday.”

“It didn't seem relevant.”

“Oh, you think not? Well, it seems pretty damn relevant to me! What price all that coy ‘Don't touch me – I'm not that kind of girl! ' when all the time – My God, you could teach Claudine Bouchet a trick or two, and that's saying something!”

“Ray, I did try to tell you –”

“And I'm willing to bet our Neil doesn't get fobbed off with any arm's length treatment! He's not one to waste his time if there's nothing in it for him – ask Pam or your precious Vivian! You rotten, two-faced little bitch! You even let me-” He broke off, fighting to control his breathing.

“Very well, my love, but you needn't think it changes the outcome one iota, just the way we go about it. If you want to play dirty, that's all right by me. In fact, I'll enjoy it. If Neil Sheppard knows what's good for him, he'll beat a hasty retreat back to Vivian's apron strings. Old Nicholas might turn a blind eye to a bit on the side, but by God I won't!”

The hunched shoulders of the garage attendant registered avid if tactful interest. Without looking at him I held out a handful of notes, leaving him to extract the amount he required. Behind me Ray's car leapt forward with a roar, screeched across the forecourt and out on to the road. I was sorry for his first class that morning.

I stumbled into Martha's car and sat clutching the steering-wheel.

“Your change, Miss.” The man's voice was respectfully sympathetic.

“Thank you.” I took a deep breath and drove slowly out on to the road. That was one garage I shouldn't be able to use again.

The scene was still playing itself over and over in my head when I started on the baking later that morning.

“You're rather pale,” Martha remarked, hanging over me and watching my every move. “Feeling all right?”

“Yes, thanks.” Mentally I resolved to leave the
gateau
until she was at college and my attention would not be divided. In the meantime the cheese scones, crisp and golden, were cooling on the tray, the
petits fours
awaited decoration and the coffee cake was in the oven.

“I do envy you!” Martha sighed. “You're so unflappable!”

I smiled with a touch of bitterness and did not reply. Slowly, wrapped in an aroma of baking, the long day passed. Martha went to her class after lunch and I made my
gâteau
methodically but without the enjoyment I'd anticipated. By five o'clock when Hugo returned the kitchen was spotless again.

“Lord, what a day!” He dropped into his easy chair. “Martha, be a lamb and make me a cup of tea. I need reviving.” He glanced at me. “Your friend Ray has been excelling himself today.”

“It was probably my fault,” I said quietly. “We had rather an unpleasant confrontation at the garage this morning.”

“Perhaps that accounts for it. He was exceptionally foul, even for him. Had Pam Beecham in tears at break and there was a highly charged atmosphere every time he came into the staff-room, which to put it mildly was hardly conducive to the smooth running of the day. What happened, though? You seemed friendly enough yesterday.”

“I told him I was having dinner with Neil.”

“Ah! Well, let me repeat my warning, little sister. He can be a dangerous enemy. If I were you I should make a complete break as soon as possible. It was all right letting things ride when you were only here for a holiday, but if it's to be a permanent arrangement you certainly don't want to get embroiled with the likes of him.”

Nevertheless, embroiled was precisely what I was, and I knew despairingly that however much we may tug against it, the link between Ray and me would hold us together until something stronger than both of us severed it for good.

Neil called for me at seven-thirty. “All right?” he asked, and the searching glance that accompanied the question made it more than rhetorical.

“Yes, thanks.”

“The table's booked for eight-thirty so we've time for a visit to the King Orry first.”

“I'm glad you could make it this evening,” he remarked when we were settled in the deep leather chairs. “I half expected Hugo would have packed you off home before this. What does he think about friend Ray's Svengali act?”

“I didn't tell him,” I said in a low voice.

“But I thought I'd convinced you –”

“I know, but things have changed slightly. I'm not going home, even on Saturday. The St Cyrs have offered me a partnership in the Viking.”

“You mean you'll be here permanently?”

I lifted my chin. “Yes, but don't worry; you won't be expected to go on playing knight-errant indefinitely.”

“I don't think I understand,” he said after a moment.

“Hugo told me he rather coerced you into asking me out. It was kind of you but quite unnecessary. I can take care of myself.”

His mouth tightened fractionally. “I still don't know what you're talking about, but let me clarify the position. I don't belong to an escort agency, Chloe, and my services aren't for hire. I can't see how Hugo comes into this.”

I flushed, aware that he had put me on the defensive. “I'm sorry if I put it clumsily, but when he said –”

“I told you I had the impression he wasn't happy about your seeing Ray, but if I was supposed to take that as an all-clear to ask you out myself, I'm afraid it was completely lost on me. I asked you out for no reason other than I wanted to. If I obliged Hugo by doing so, that's fine, but it's quite coincidental. All right?”

I nodded and finished my drink in a gulp. Neil signalled to the waiter for another.

“Now that we've cleared that up, let's get back to Ray. Does he know you're staying?”

“Yes, I had my first sitting with him yesterday.” I hesitated. “I gather he was causing a bit of trouble today?”

“He certainly was. Apparently he doesn't approve of our meeting this evening.”

My fingers tightened on the glass. “What did he say?”

“Nothing to me; he ignored me completely, but he gave Pam one or two choice pieces of advice to pass on.”

“About me?” My voice cracked.

“I'm afraid so, yes. He can be pretty vicious, you know. I hope you know what you're doing.” He looked across at me consideringly. “Why didn't you tell Hugo the whole story?”

“You know why; he wouldn't have let me stay.”

“In my opinion you'd be wiser not to. From the way Ray was carrying on today I'd say he was bordering on the psychopathic.”

“I'm really rather sorry for him, '' I said slowly.

“Sorry?”

“He's so completely alone, Neil. To his way of thinking, he brought me over here expressly to have someone of his own, someone on his side, and now that I won't fall into line he's bewildered and hurt. So he lashes out.”

“He's certainly doing that. I must say you're more charitable than he deserves.”

“And then I have this horrible feeling that he's in danger, threatened in some way.”

“I shouldn't be at all surprised,” Neil returned dryly. “After today I can think of at least six people who would cheerfully slit his throat. I could myself.”

My hand jerked sharply, spilling the liquid in my glass. With a look at my face, Neil held out a clean handkerchief and I dabbed ineffectually at the stain.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. That hypnotist certainly has a lot to answer for. Whatever made you go up on the stage?”

I thought back to that fateful evening. “I think it was to annoy Mike. His father was a psychiatrist and he was being very superior about the whole thing, saying it shouldn't be allowed. Actually, we hadn't even realized a hypnotist was on the bill. Sue and I were celebrating having scraped through our O-levels and as no party had materialized, the four of us went on spec to the theatre.”

“Who was it who finally brought you round?”

I smiled. “Ironically enough, Mike's father.”

“After three days?”

I nodded. Three days, during which my body had been inactive. But what of my mind? Where had it travelled during the trance which could overcome dimensional barriers? Here, to the Isle of Man, into its past and future, or simply deeper into the mind that held me, back to its ancient folk memories and forward by means of its possibly unrecognized clairvoyance?

Neil glanced at his watch. “If you've finished your drink we'd better be on our way.”

As Annette had told me, the Viking by night exuded a very different atmosphere from that of my last visit. Most of the tables were occupied, I noted with professional interest, and on each one a small copper lamp glowed, leaving the rafters and the shape of the longboat in softly moving shadow. Down by the hotplates Gaston was at work carving meat and spooning out luscious-smelling casseroles.

Annette came hurrying over with the menus and greeted me with enthusiasm. “Checking up on us? I hope we come up to expectations!”

When the complexities of choosing our first course had been resolved and we were alone again, I turned to Neil. “You know, we seem to have spent a great deal of time discussing the complications of my existence but literally the only thing I know about you is that you teach at St Olaf's. I'm not even sure what subject!”

“That's easily rectified. Classics. For the rest, there's not much to tell. I enjoy my life, but it hasn't been wildly exciting.”

“What about your family?”

“Pretty standard, I imagine. My brother is a G.P., following in Father's footsteps, and my sister was married a couple of weeks ago. I'd been home for her wedding when I saw you on the plane.”

“Hugo was saying you've been at St Olaf's about six years.”

‘‘Yes. Sometimes I wonder if that isn't long enough.”

“You're not thinking of leaving? Not when I'd just arranged to stay!”

“Not at the moment, but I'm ambitious, Chloe. Sometimes that can be the very devil. I intend to have my own school one day.”

“You sound as though Vivian has been brainwashing you!”

He laughed. “It paid off for her, anyway. Have you heard that Nicholas landed the Downhurst post?”

“No, I hadn't. I am glad. They both seemed to regard it as their last chance.”