Authors: Sara Seale
“
I think I
’
m going to bed if nobody minds,
”
he said, and got to his feet.
“
These family matters are rather beyond my province.
”
He went upstairs slowly, watching the shadows advance before him in the light of his candle. Sarah
’
s bedroom door was ajar, and as he passed she called out:
“
Is that you, Nonie?
”
“
No, it
’
s me,
”
he said, pushing the door open.
“
Did you want anything?
”
“
Only some lemonade to drink in the night, but it doesn
’
t matter,
”
she said, turning her head restlessly on the pillow.
“
I
’
ll get it,
”
he said briefly, and went downstairs again. He could hear voices from the snug as he passed, Kathy and her aunt no doubt discussing the subject of Sarah
’
s future. He returned with the lemonade and put the glass and the candlestick on the table beside the bed, then stood looking down at her, his hands in his pockets. She lay in an uneasy huddle, a puppy each side of her, and her eyes
w
ere bright and wakeful.
“
You
’
d be more comfortable without the pups,
”
he remarked.
“
Can
’
t they sleep on the floor?
”
“
They
’
re cold,
”
she said, and looked up at him, blinking a little in the lamplight. He looked severe, she thought, and rather disapproving.
“
Were you going to bed?
”
she asked, for something to say. The way he was looking at her made her feel uneasy.
“
I was on my way,
”
he replied,
and
she held out a hand.
“
Stay and talk to me for a little. I feel awfully wide awake.
”
“
It
’
s getting late,
”
he said.
“
You should be asleep.
”
“
I
’
m not sleepy.
”
“
Then take some aspirin.
”
His manner was abrupt and she thought he looked at her, with the old coldness. She remembered her aunt saying:
“
We can
’
t fall in love to order,
”
and sighed. Her thin, pointed face looked very small on the pillows, and when she turned her head to the light the traces of tears were still apparent.
‘
“
Well, if there
’
s nothing more I can do for you I
’
ll say goodnight,
”
he said and picked up his candlestick.
“
No, there
’
s nothing,
”
she answered in a small voice.
“
Goodnight, Adrian.
”
She watched his shadow moving along the wall, unbelievably tall and thin. So had she watched her father
’
s shadow long ago and tried to call him back.
“
Goodnight,
”
Adrian said again and softly closed the door.
It rained in the night, and the next day and the next they could hear the ice breaking up. All day and all night the small sounds heralding the thaw broke the long silence of their snow-bound world. The snow melted from the mountains and Sarah would watch from the snug windows the shining blanket of white slipping; from the shoulder of Slieve Rury. It would be some days yet before the south road was clear, but already grass was beginning to appear on the lawns, and yard and shippen were a mass of slush.
Sarah
’
s days were full, for the thaw brought havoc in its wake. Burst pipes, collapsing fences and a flooding of the barn which ruined much of the carelessly stacked hay. They all worked, even Kathy, splashing about in gum-boots and getting in the way. Adrian, helping with the rest, would sometimes look at Sarah in a puzzled fashion. She seemed older and at the same time more withdrawn since she had left her bed. He saw her very little alone for there was too much to be done, but it struck him that she avoided him if she could and it seemed always to be Kathy who took time off with him, or remained behind in the snug when the others had gone to bed.
Sarah, herself, found her emotions too confused to sort out alone. She only knew that with the coming of the thaw the strange intimacy of those snow-bound days had vanished as the snow itself was fast vanishing from the mountains, and she was back to the time when Adrian was a stranger with the trick of rubbing her up the wrong way. Only now he had also the power to hurt her. She would watch him lean over Kathy
’
s shoulder as she pointed out some line in a book of poems, observe the careless touch of his hand against hers and know again the old sensation of aloneness which her father and her sister used to give her.
“
You have Dun Rury,
”
Kathy had told her. Yes, she had Dun Rury, the tangible mark of her father
’
s love for her, and none should take it from her.
When Adrian wrote his weekly cheque for her she said unexpectedly:
“
As you
’
re not getting any of the things you
’
re paying extra for, Adrian, I can
’
t possibly go on taking the additional two guineas. Do you mind writing me another cheque, please?
”
He folded the piece of paper and held it out to her.
“I thought we’d agreed to leave it for the present,” he said.
“That was weeks ago. You’re already paying too much for your two rooms. I can’t possibly go on charging you for extras you don’t have.”
His eyes twinkled.
“But I have the home comforts. Don’t they rate two guineas a week?”
She did not smile but only stood there, her hands behind her back, ignoring the cheque he still held out to her.
“
The home comforts were a joke and not a very funny one,
”
she said, and he looked at her a little sharply.
“
I don
’
t find them a joke,
”
he said quietly.
“
I
’
ve appreciated being one of the family very much.
”
“
You
’
re very polite,
”
she replied.
“
I don
’
t imagine that burst pipes and general chaos can have been the height of comfort.
”
“
Now you
’
re talking like a landlady.
”
“
I am a landlady
and a pretty bad one. Please write me another cheque, Adrian.
”
“
I
’
ll do nothing of the kind,
”
he replied calmly.
“
And d
o
n
’
t tear this one up as I see by the glint in your eye you mean to do. It wastes twopence and I
’
ll only have to write another. Come on, Sarah, don
’
t be so stubborn. You know you need that two guineas. Remember the stable roof!
”
“
It
’
s very ill-bred of you to remind me of my poverty, and I don
’
t need your two guineas, so there!
”
she said, and he nearly laughed.
“
Well, if you won
’
t be reasonable, I
’
ll have to take to having my meals in the nursery again, and I
’
d much prefer to remain with the family,
”
he said, but she only replied:
“
You must do whatever you think best.
”
He seized her suddenly by the wrist.
“
What
’
s the matter with you?
”
he demanded impatiently.
“
You
’
ve reverted to your old prickly self these last few days and are treating me like a stranger. Have I inadvertently upset you in any way? If I have, for heaven
’
s sake come out with it and stop being so childish.
”
“
You haven
’
t upset me at all,
”
she said with irritating calm, and went out of the room leaving the matter of the cheque undecided.
Sometimes in the evening they sat in the library so that Kathy might play for them, but Sarah would not sing. She made any number of excuses which caused Adrian to raise his eyebrows, but she would not sing for him.
“
You
’
re being rather difficult, my lamb,
”
Kathy told her when they said goodnight to each other on one of these occasions.
“
Because I didn
’
t want to sing? I had a sore throat,
”
Sarah said glibly
.
“
Your cold went days ago,
”
her sister told her with a smile.
“
But
it
’
s rude to Adrian, Sarah. He likes your singing
.
You seem very snappy with him of late, and I thought you
’
d come to like him.
”
Kathy
’
s eyes were suddenly soft.
“
I—I want you to like him, darling.
”
“
Why?
”
“
Because—well, because I—I like him so much myself.
”
“
Are you in love with him?
”
asked Sarah bluntly. Aunt Em had hinted, but she had to know from Kathy.
Her sister put down the lamp she was carrying on the chest of drawers.
“
I don
’
t know. I—I think I am.
”
“
Don
’
t you
ever
know?
”
Sarah asked with exasperation.
“
You didn
’
t know with Joe, and now you say you don
’
t know with Adrian. He
’
s not like Joe, you know, Kathy. He won
’
t wait patiently for years for an answer.
”
Kathy
’
s eyes were dreamy; she was lost in the peaceful shallows of anticipation and she did not want to leave them.
“
He hasn
’
t asked me yet,
”
she said.
“
Do you think he loves you?
”
Kathy lifted her soft, childish face to her sister
’
s.
“
He
’
s kissed me,
”
she said simply.
Sarah moved impatiently.
“
Oh, Kathy, that
’
s not enough,
”
she said.
“
He
’
s kissed me
...
Joe used to kiss me and that was making love ... He tells me I
’
m lovely ... He once said I could melt a statue
...
That was like a lover, wasn
’
t it, Sarah? And he
’
s always gentle with me. Joe was gentle with me and he loved me
...”
Sarah looked round the room observing automatically the familiar little touches. Things had always been pretty for Kathy. Joe was gentle
...
lovers are gentle
...
Her own pain and Joe
’
s were somehow mingled.