Dark inheritance (11 page)

Aunt Ellie turned to Barbara. "Will you come with me now?"

"If you want me to." Barbara's eyes met Dominic's and he smiled slightly.

"You'd better go, my dear, or I'll keep you here too
long." He touched her shoulder lightly, his voice a caress. "Good night, and sleep well."

When Barbara awakened the following morning the
boat was already lying off Monte Carlo, and although they were anchored some distance out she could see the town rising steeply up the hill after which it was named.

Hastily she washed and put on a simple white linen
dress before going in to waken Aunt Ellie, and they had a quick breakfast in the cabin prior to going upstairs to find Rock wood.

"Good morning, Aunt . . . Barbara." In white flan
nels with a pale blue sports shirt he looked handsomer
than Barbara had ever seen him, and her gaze faltered as it met his. "I hope you're ready. We'd better gel ashore before the rest of the crowd start coming up from breakfast"

"I do hope we haven't kept you wailing, Dominic dear," Aunt Ellie said anxiously. "We tried to be as quick as we could, didn't we, Barbara? But if we're a little late it's my fault."

"On such a wonderful morning I couldn't blame any
body for anything," Rockwood replied affably. "Come along now, don't let's waste time."

Still avoiding his eyes, Barbara followed Aunt Ellie down the ship's ladder, the old woman squealing ner
vously as willing hands from below took her weight and settled her in the bows of the tender. On the ship itself the air had been sultry but down here, close to
the water, the cool Mediterranean breeze met them and
rustled against their clothes.

They had to wait until the tender filled up, but at last with a splutter and whirring of the motor they moved away from the side of the ship and Rockwood sat down at Barbara's side.

"Looking forward to it?" His lips were so close to her ear that as she turned to look at him they almost brushed her cheek.

"Very much. I'm hoping you'll be as informative here as you were in Athens."

"There's not much scope, but
I'll
do my best. The
Acropolis of Monte Carlo is the Casino. But I don' want to talk about that now, Barbara. I "

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Aunt Ellie, who leant forward and raised her voice to a piercing pitch above the noise of the motor. "Ob, Dominic, we're almost there. Isn't it exciting?"

The boat was nearing the doll-sized harbour and Monte Carlo rose steeply above them. Beyond the tree-lined promenade honey-coloured houses mounted
tier upon tier up the
hill,
while flanking one side stood
the peal Rock surmounted by the turreted fairy-tale palace of Monaco.

Dominic handed the two women ashore and led them
over to the cab rank on the quayside. "I suggest we drive round for a while so you can get the feel of the place. Then we'll have coffee and after that perhaps you'd like a swim before lunch, Barbara?"

"I'm afraid I've left my swimming suit on board," Barbara said ruefully.

"Never mind, you can buy one here."

She replied as noncommittally as she could, knowing
she had not sufficient money in her handbag to do so, and although Rockwood looked somewhat disappointed he said nothing but hustled them into the waiting cab.

They set off at an easy pace and spent the next few
hours exploring the coast, and Barbara began to under
stand why it was called the Land of Palm Trees and Mimosa. The scent of flowers was almost overpowering, and no matter down what narrow road they turned
or what steep hill they climbed, there was always the shimmering blue sea on one side of them. The intense
colour of die scene, the glaring whiteness and the bril
liant greens and reds made her eyes ache, and she was ready to enjoy her coffee when they stopped in the little hill-top town of Monaco.

Sitting on the promenade under a gaily striped umbrella they looked out across the battlements over the harbour, the blue surface of the sea dotted with small white boats, while behind them, against the background of Mount Agel, the houses with their red roofs, cream facades and pale, rainbow-coloured shutters rose cheek by jowl with each other.

After coffee they motored back along the coast and drove around Monte Carlo itself, and Barbara was surprised to find that it covered only a few hundred square yards and seemed largely made up of hotels and restaurants, interspersed with a pretty square in front of the Casino and a charming little market. But half-way through the morning their sight-seeing was cut short by Aunt Ellie, complaining of a headache and Dominic ordered the driver to take them to the Sporting Club.

"You'll be able to lie down there, Aunt. The manager's an old friend of mine and he'll look after you." He spoke with resignation, almost as if he had been prepared for this emergency and had already decided what to do if his aunt showed signs of fatigue.

"I'm so sorry to be a nuisance," the old woman apologized faintly. "I haven't had one of my headaches since you've been with me, Barbara, but they can be rather frightening although they don't last very long as a rule."

Indeed she was already looking pale and drawn, and Rockwood cast several glances in her direction as they drove along—the first time Barbara had seen him show any solicitude for his aunt.

Arriving at the Sporting Club they were met by a dapper and voluble Frenchman who greeted Rockwood effusively.

"Ah, m'sieur, what a long time it is since you were here! But how good to see old friends! At the moment it is new faces, new faces all the time." He shrugged.
"Mais que voulez-vous,
they have the money!"

Quickly Rockwood explained that his aunt was unwell, and within a few minutes they were shown up to a luxurious bedroom. Barbara pulled the curtains to shut out the glare and settled the old woman in bed, perturbed to see that she was shaking in every limb and there was a waxy pallor and sunken look about the closed eyes.

"I'm so sorry to spoil your day, my dear," she murmured, "but it you'll just stay with me until I fall asleep . . ."

'I won't leave you." Barbara patted the wrinkled hand on the coverlet.

"I'll be downstairs when you're ready." There was such harshness in Rockwood's voice that Barbara glanced at him, surprised to sec he was almost as pale as his aunt. "I'll be waiting in the lounge. My aunt usually gets off in about half an hour and once she's asleep there's no point in your slaying up here."

"That's right," Aunt Ellie whispered. "When I wake I'll be as right as rain. You'll see."

Rockwood went out, leaving the two women alone, and Barbara sat down in an armchair near the window.

Slowly Aunt Ellie's breathing became less shallow and from fitful dozing she fell into a deep sleep, but Barbara waited until she was quite certain the old woman would not awaken before she tip-toed gently out of the room and went downstairs.

Rockwood was sitting idly in an armchair and came towards her as she was looking around for him.

"Come along, I'm sure you could do with a cool drink before we go in to lunch."

She glanced down at her watch. "Good heavens, it's nearly two o'clock! Will we be able to get anything to eat so late?"

"Mealtimes are pretty elastic in the South of France —luncheon from twelve to three and dinner anywhere from seven to ten."

They lunched on the terrace overlooking the sea, the table-cloth flapping in the breeze and the shouts of the swimmers cutting across their conversation.

Barbara sipped the wine Rockwood had ordered and
looked out on the vivid scene. "What a pity Aunt Ellie isn't here to enjoy this."

His face darkened. "It's a pity she ever came ashore in the first place. I was afraid this would happen. I know you've wondered why I haven't allowed her to
see any of the places we've called at—you've probably
thought it was part of my usual behaviour towards her." She reddened at the truth of his assertion. "Well,
now perhaps you understand. Do you think I like being
autocratic, that I like keeping her quiet and not allowing her to do things I know she'd enjoy as much as a child?" He ran a hand across his hair and a strand fell forward, redder and more burnished than the rest. "Sometimes I wonder why I take her abroad at all. I know she'd be far better off at Crags' Height, but f keep hoping new sights and people may help her to become more normal."

Barbara put down her knife and fork. "Forgive my asking, but what exactly is the matter with your aunt?
I know she's not very strong, of course, but it isn't only
that, is it?"

The lines on either side of his mouth deepened and the grimness of his expression was entirely out of place
in their gay, colourful surroundings. "She's very highly
strung and has no control over her nerves."

"But surely that isn't her fault? I mean, if she's mad that way"

"No one can help her but herself," he interrupted harshly. "Self-control is-

"Why do you keep talking about self-control?" Barbara broke in. "You speak as if it's the greatest virtue in the world—as if it's necessary for everyone to have an iron will and rigid self-discipline."

Rockwood took out a cigarette and tapped it on the back of his hand before speaking.

"We all have certain basic characteristics that are
unalterable—everyone is somewhere between an angel
and a devil, and which way we allow ourselves to de
velop depends on the individual. We are the only crea
tures who have it in our power to control ourselves

failure to use the faculties with which we've been endowed is a sign of weakness."

"That's far too sweeping a statement. You talk as if a man were master of his own destiny."

"I believe he is. I'm not one of these moderns who
think we're at the mercy of our psychological make-up.
We have it in our power to control our actions and
shape our lives, and the more we know about ourselves
the more incumbent it is on us to do so."

"I don't know what your beliefs arc, Dominic, but I think there arc certain things outside our power." Barbara leant forward earnestly. "I see life as a tapestry, the pattern clearly delineated beforehand. It's left to us
to weave the fabric, but the actual design's beyond our
scope and there's nothing we can do to alter it. The pattern is set from the minute we're born and no matter how much we fight against it there's nothing we can do to prevent the ultimate end."

"I don't believe in your philosophy," Rockwood said coldly. "It's a creed of weakness."

"On the contrary, it's a creed of understanding."
He brushed this aside. "I can hardly agree with your
description of life as a sampler," he said sarcastically. "To my way of thinking it is a suit of chain mail in which every link has to be forged. Your philosophy of Fate is the philosophy of modern degeneracy. To sit back and say I am what I am and there's nothing I can do about it' is an admission of defeat, a refusal to come to grips with oneself."

"I've never heard a more pitiless philosophy than yours," Barbara said hotly. "The only redeeming feature about it is that it shows a certain strength of character, but I think it's a strength that will defeat itself in the end. If you're not willing to compromise with reality you haven't found the beginnings of wisdom,

Mr. Rockwood, and "

too inviting for us to spend the afternoon discussing abstractions. Don't you agree?"

His manner was so disarming that Barbara's anger subsided and she smiled. "At least we've found something to agree about."

"Good. Now what about that swim? I suggest we go along to our respective cabins and change."

"I don't want to be difficult," she murmured, "but "Haven't got a swim suit with you? On the contrary, you have—and a very nice one too." He reached behind his chair and brought up a small packet which he held out to her. "At least / think it's nice—in my dogmatic, uncompromising way."

Her mouth lifted. "What have you been up to?"

"While you were with my aunt I took the opportunity
of strolling round the town, and this caught my eye in a shop window. I hope you'll accept it without any feelings of affronted suburban morality."

In spite of herself Barbara laughed. "Really, Dominic, you shouldn't have."

"I could hardly go swimming and leave you on your
own. And I assure you I had no intention of missing the bathe—I've been looking forward to it all day."

"Since you put it so tactfully you leave me no option but to accept."

He stood up. "Come on, then."