Harbinger of Spring (22 page)

‘
Isn
’
t that your bird-man over there?
’
her father said suddenly.

‘
Where
?’
she asked with feigned surprise.

‘
Just passing the trio. He has a girl with him. I wonder if she is the Rosamond of the yacht?
’

‘
Very likely.
’

Sara found herself watching
the pair. As she might
have
expected Hugh danced well
and she found herself
envying
the girl.

The
dance ended
and as Sara and
her father were walk
ing towards
the
table
they crossed
Hugh
’
s path.

‘
How nice to see
you both,
’
he
said politely.
‘
And
how are
you
liking
Fenchurch Millhouse,
Mr.
Seymour?
’

‘
It
’
s a marvellous
old place. But
where
’
s the young
lady who was
with you?
’

‘
Gone for
her
cloak.
’
He laughed.
‘
As a matter of
fact we
’
re gate-crashers
in a small
way. A meeting I
was addressing
upstairs has just ended
and Rosa man
aged to persuade
me into bringing
her in here for just
one dance.
’

‘
Oh, but you
mustn
’
t go yet,
’
said
Eric Seymour.
‘
Join us at our table.
’

Hugh hesitated,
then smiled and
thanked him.
‘
I
’
ll
go and
wait for her coming
out.
’

‘
Wouldn
’
t
it be better if
I
went
for her?
’
Sara sug
gested.
‘
She can hardly have got
her cloak on yet.
’
Hugh nodded and Sara went swiftly
towards the cloak
room. She met the other girl
coming out, however, and
quickly introduced herself.

‘
Hugh sent me to find you.
We—know each other
slightly. He
’
s talking to my
father and we
’
d like you
both to join us at our table.
’

‘S
uper! Hugh
’
s
meeting
was
rather stuffy and I
’
m afraid
I
’
ve
heard
it all
so often before. I
’
ll just hang my cloak
up again.
Won
’
t be a tick.
’

At close
quarters Sara thought how young the girl
looked.
Even
younger
than herself. How mistaken
one could be
about a man
’
s taste in women.

They
went back
to the table
together,
where four
chairs had already been arranged.
There were no formal
introductions, merely an exchange of first names, and Sara was not very surprised to see champagne glasses on the table and a bottle cooling in a silver pail. Her father
’
s idea, without doubt. She simply must try to enjoy the evening for his sake. Rosa—short for Rosamond—was indeed the girl after whom Hugh
’
s boat was named.

The cork popped and the champagne frothed into the glasses. Sara felt the bubbles tingle her nostrils and looked over the edge of her glass at Hugh. He raised his eyebrows slightly and she wondered what he was thinking. She gave a side glance at Rosamond and saw she was laughing gaily at something her father had said.

‘
Did you—enjoy your lecture tour
?’
Sara asked Hugh.

‘
It was worthwhile,
’
he answered, then leaned towards her.
‘
They
’
re playing a slow foxtrot. Can you—
’

‘
Of course.
’

They had taken a few steps together when he said,
‘
I confess I
’
m puzzled about you. How is it you do this kind of dancing so well?
’

She laughed.
‘
Father
’
s efforts to broaden my education. He said he didn
’
t mind my jiving and twisting so long as I learned real dancing. We argued about what was real, but he finally convinced me I was actually stuck in a rut when it came to dancing. How about you? Pop
’
s been around for a very long time.
’

‘
I was never a pop addict. A good tune—the Latin
-
American dances—yes. But standing in one spot and just swaying glassy-eyed to beat—no.
’
He glanced over his shoulder.
‘
Your father seems pretty good at broadening people
’
s minds. He
’
s got Rosa on her feet. So far I
’
ve only managed to get her into the first steps of a waltz.
’

Sara saw that the other girl was thoroughly enjoying herself and thought Hugh must love her
very much in
deed, especially as they were
apparently so different in
outlook. To Sara, Rosa
seemed the very embodiment
of what Hugh disapproved of
in herself. At least, to
some extent. Rosa must
possess some rare qualities
indeed.

The dance over, Hugh led her back
to
t
h
eir
table mur
muring a polite thank you.

As they sat down, Rosa came tripping
toward them.

‘
Sara, your father
’
s a
wonderful
dancer,
and he
’
s a
much better teacher than Hugh.
’

She pulled a face at Hugh and sat down.
‘
Is it true
you live in a windmill
?
’

‘
Well, in the house attached to the
mill,
’
answered
Sara.

‘
I
’
d love to see it. May
I?
’

Sara smiled. It was impossible not
to like the girl.
‘
Just get Hugh to bring
you along. Any time. I
’
d be
glad to show you over it
and give you tea or coffee into
the bargain, according to the
time
of
day. What about
tomorrow
?
’

Disappointment showed in the
eager young face.
‘
I
don
’
t think tomorrow
will be any
use.
’
She half turned.
‘
Will it, Hugh?
’

He shook his head.
‘
You know perfectly well you
’
re
taking the midday
train home tomorrow, and since
you
’
re staying in
Norwich overnight—
’

‘
Oh, bother.
’
She
turned to Sara.
‘
How far is it to
your mill
?’

‘
About
a
quarter
of an hour by river.
’

Eric
Seymour
cut in,
‘
Couldn
’
t she see over the Mill
tonight,
Hugh? I know it
’
ll make it late for you both,
but
—
’

‘
I don
’
t mind that—and I know Rosa doesn
’
t. It
’
s
Sunday tomorrow anyway.
If Sara doesn
’
t mind being kept up late—
’

‘
That
’
s
settled,
then,
’
Sara said.
‘
T
hi
s
is one time we
’
ll all be night birds.
’

A quickstep was played next and Sara danced it with her father. After that it seemed to be accepted that he should take Rosamond for any dances she wanted to learn and that Sara should dance with Hugh. There were times when she had tiny pricks of conscience as she savoured to the full the sensation of Hugh
’
s hand on her waist and his hand in hers, then she would tell herself not to be silly. After all, they were only dancing.

Then as if someone had advanced all the clocks, the evening was suddenly over. Sara stopped to change shoes for wellingtons, and as she did so she glanced at Rosa
’
s fragile evening shoes.

‘
Good gracious, I forgot the little walk to the quay. You
’
re going to get your feet terribly cold and wet.
’

Rosamond smiled.
‘
I expect Hugh will carry me. He usually does under these circumstances,
’
she said casually.

‘
That
’
s—nice.
’

Sara imagined herself being lifted up in Hugh
’
s strong arms and envied the other girl with all her heart.

They were joined by her father and Hugh and a few seconds later all four were in the club
’
s outer porch overlooking the quay. Sara heard the sound of running water which indicated that a thaw had set in. She stepped off the porch and gave one backward glance. Hugh was in the act of swinging Rosamond up into his arms. She looked away again swiftly, a feeling almost of pain in her heart. Did she want a man so much? she asked herself fiercely.

Her father half a pace behind her, she hurried to the launch, telling herself she must open the canopy quickly so that Hugh would not feel the strain of his burden.

Hugh tumbled Rosamond into the stern along with Sara
’
s father, then he slipped the wet mooring lines. Sara had taken the wheel, but Hugh said imperiously,
‘
Move over, Sara. I
’
ll drive.
’

He flicked on the searchlight
and silvered the black
waters with a narrow lane. Not
wanting to argue, Sara
had little option but to
do
as he
said, and it seemed no
time before he turned into the
dyke to the Mill. She felt
ve
r
y conscious of Hugh close
beside her. Why was it
she felt like this about him, so conscious of
him the whole
time
?
She would have to stop it.
It would be disastrous
to fall in love with him. She
mustn
’
t
let
herself. She
mustn
’
t.

When they came to the Mill
quay, Hugh was out first
and having secured the moorings
he stretched a hand to
Sa
r
a and almost hauled her on
to the quay.

She laughed tremulously.
‘
There
’
s no chance of fall
ing backward when you take hold!
’

‘
I haven
’
t lost a passenger yet,
and
I
’
m
not beginning
now.
’

‘
You
’
d better pay the same
attention to the other
passengers while I open the front
door.
’

She sloshed through the rapidly
thawing snow, feel
ing that she had drunk more champagne
than she should
have among other things. No
sooner had she opened
the door and switched on lights
than Rosamond was at
her side looking about her eagerly.
Sara took her cloak
and laughed,