Robyn Donald – Iceberg (6 page)

putting her in this position .and angry with herself as she realised that she would have liked to have his good

opinion.

His expression hardened. 'I hadn't forgotten. I doubt if it would be possible for you to make Sarah greedy, so I'm

prepared to overlook that—at least as far as she's concerned.'

"Very magnanimous of you!'

He caught at his control, managed to retain it, although a muscle jerked in his jaw and there was a new note of

warning in his voice. 'I didn't come here spoiling for a fight, and I refuse to allow myself to be provoked into

one.'

'Then what
did
you come for?' she demanded, wishing only to get him out of the place before some precarious

part of her control slipped and shattered.

'To ask that for Sarah's sake we appear to be on—at least reasonably friendly terms.'

Linnet stared at him, but before she^ could say a thing he continued, 'She's still very easily upset; your

precipitate departure left her weeping1 and blaming me. Quite frankly, I wish you'd never met, but as you have

and she's taken a fancy to you I'll have to make the best of it. I don't want her to feel that she's being disloyal

together of us when in the other's company, nor do I want her to realise that------'

'That we dislike each other intensely,' Linnet finished drily, as he seemed, probably for the first time in his life,

at a loss for words.

He looked at her with something like mockery. 'Is that what it is? Myself, I should have expressed it differently,

but you're very young.' He seemed to wait for some answer from her, but when, after .a-moment, she still

remained silent, wondering what on earth he meant, he asked indifferently, 'Have I your assurance, then?'

'What assurance?'

'Your wariness is only exceeded by your deliberate stupidity. Have I your assurance that when Sarah is about

you will endeavour to hide this intense dislike, as you call it?’

Instinctively she hunted for the catch in .his proposition, turning it over in her mind, seeking for flaws. But it

seemed merely the request of a reasonably fond father concerned about the well-being of his daughter.

Grudgingly she answered, 'I see no reason why not.'

'Good. Now will you come over to the house and reassure her?' This brought her head up swiftly, her attention arrested by an odd note of triumph in his -voice. But there was

no sign of it in his expression; the handsome features were set as if in a mask, the hard mouth still a firm line.

She concluded she must have been mistaken.

'Very well,' she said reluctantly. ‘I’ll just -go and change.'

'You look perfectly normal in that,' he told her with a chilling lack of interest.

So she went with him, those baseless fears lulled but not completely set at rest.

Sarah was sitting in a small room with the curtains drawn, watching television with an absorption which was

obviously faked.

She looked up as Linnet entered the room, scowled, then switched her gaze back 'to the set.

'She's obviously too busy,' Linnet said to Justin Doyle, and turned to go out.

'No, I'm not.' The child flew across the room, turned the set off, then came slowly towards them, her expression

shuttered, as if fearing rejection.

'Have you got your dinner ready?' she asked.

Linnet smiled. 'Yes, apart from the peas.'

'Oh. I think I'm having peas tonight. I hate them.' Sarah said it defiantly.

'Really?' Linnet grinned. 'Ah well, everyone can't like everything.'

Sarah looked puzzled. 'What don't you like?'

‘Marrow. Unless it's hidden some way.'

'Daddy, what don't you like?"

Justin answered with barely a hint of amusement, 'Broad beans.'

His daughter gave a crow
of
laughter. 'I
love
broad beans! How funny! I didn't know you hated them. Linnet,

'would you like to see my bedroom? I've got lots of books in my bookcase.'

'A dear case of bribery and corruption,' Linnet replied. 'Yes, I'll come, but I must be back home in half an hour.'

‘

'O.K.'

Sarah might have been upset at the tension she sensed, but she showed no signs of it now, dancing down the

wide hallway like a sprite, her curls a nimbus of silver above her small earnest face.

She was a good hostess, gravely snowing her guest about the large airy room, which had been furnished as a

bedsitter for her, it was obvious that she had been accustomed to luxurious surroundings all her life.

'And this is my mother,' she said, pointing out a photograph in a silver: frame. 'She died when I was two: Her

car went over a bank at the farm.'

Linnet looked compassionately at the wilful, laughing face in the photograph; such a contrast to the grave little

girl she had given birth to. And such a contrast to Bronwyn, top. This girl was not a real beauty, her mouth too

wide, her nose slightly tiptilted, but she had a radiance which shone, through the blacks and greys of the

photograph. Her hair was tumbled, far different from Bronwyn's sleek tidiness, and there was an openness about

her expression. With Bronwyn you never quite knew what she was thinking. But if Justin was going to marry

Bronwyn it must be because she was what he wanted. According to Stewart and Bronwyn this vital girl had had

other aspects to her character dial the photograph didn't show.

'Daddy doesn't talk about her,' the soft little voice said, not sadly but in resignation. 'P’raps when I'm grown up a

bit he'll fell me about her. She looks nice, doesn't she?'

The unconscious pathos caught at the older girl's heart. Giving the child a swift hug, she said, 'She looks lovely,

and you look a little bit like her.'

‘Do I really? I know I look like Daddy; Anna said that I've got his eyes, but he was brown-haired when he was

as old as me. Your hair gets darker when you grow up. Did yours, Linnet?'

'It did, indeed. It was bright carroty red when I was little. Ask Bronwyn, she'll tell you.’

She felt the child's withdrawal as dearly as if it had been physical. 'Miss Grant doesn't like to talk to me,' Sarah

said with crisp emphasis, turning away from the lovely, doomed face in the photograph. 'Let's have a look at my

books.'

Just before it was time to go Linnet told her a story about Panda Bear she still took to bed with her, then, as

Anna had appeared to tell them that it was time for Sarah's bath, she left her
in
the small bathroom off her

bedroom and went back down the hall, her mind still full of Alison Doyle, who had died so tragically seven

years ago, and the inferences Stewart Doyle had drawn.

So intent was she dial she didn't see the door open as she came up to it, so that Justin's voice beside her brought

her from her reverie with a jump.

'I'm sorry 1 startled you,' he said, not appearing in the least worried.

Linnet looked away swiftly from him; he was too big, too lithely silent for her to be at ease with him even if

they had not exchanged insults such a short time ago. Her eyes fell on his hands, holding a book, fine-fingered

but strong, and the draught of having anyone's life and happiness in their keeping brought back the panic she

had experienced that afternoon.

Without thinking she said in a hard, tight voice,

'Sarah isn't here to see us now, Mr Doyle.'

'Nevertheless, I want to speak to you.'

‘Very, well.' Capitulating to the inevitable, she preceded him into the room, a study furnished with the same

austere luxury as the rest of the house, apart from Sarah's bedroom.

On the wall behind the desk was a painting of hills and coastline, stark, stripped of everything but the lines and

colours of the north. It was so impersonal that it repelled, but Linnet could not gainsay its power.

He suffered her to stare for some moments, before saying as collectedly as if she had not been appallingly rude

to him.

'Do you like it?'

'Like it? No.' She shook her head. 'But it's fascinating isn't it?'

'In the correct sense of the word, yes.'

Linnet leaned forward to read the name/of the artist, saw a name famous throughout the Pacific and probably

well known in Europe by now. Her first ignominious thought was to wonder at the wealth of a man who could

buy a painting by such a painter and hang it in ha study. Then she shivered, for the terrifying bleakness and

power of the painting seemed to symbolise what she knew of Justin Boyle.

'What—what did you want to see me about?' she asked, speaking swiftly, nervously as she turned to face him.

Those strange eyes were shadowed, but he did not appear to be tired; perhaps it was anger, or boredom with

someone who had shown herself so lacking in the elementary courtesies. ,

'I merely wished to tell you that I would be pleased if you could give Sarah as much time as you can spare until

you get a job,' he said. 'In fact, if you like, you can consider that a job. I have no idea how you're placed for

money------'

'I have enough,' she said, flushing angrily.

'But more than enough is always pleasant.' The cold derision in his tones wounded and condemned.

'For you, perhaps. Not for me. I like your daughter, Mr Doyle, and I'll happily spend time with, her, but you

don't need to pay me for it.' She met the cool enquiry of his glance, lifted her chin. 'Is that all?'

That's all.'

"Then I'd better go. Bronwyn may be home.'

He showed her our with the cold courtesy which was peculiarly, his own. Linnet ran across the lawn as if the

devils of hell were after her.

'And how did the interview go?'

Linnet laughed, her vivid face mirroring her emotions in great contrast to the careful deliberation of Bronwyn's

countenance.

'Well, I was nervous, of course. It's been a week since I applied and four days since I got the letter back, and

believe me, the butterflies were breeding! But she was very nice.'

Delicately demolishing an asparagus spear, Bronwyn waited until it was gone completely before asking, 'What

sort of things did she ask?'

'Oh, where I'd worked before. She was a bit shocked when I told her about the boutique, but she rallied.'

Frowning in an effort to remember the interviewer's exact words, Linnet laid her fork down. 'She asked me why

I wanted to be a librarian, so I said I liked-people and loved reading. Then she told me what the job entails—

accuracy, and being conscientious. I think my school reports helped. Apparently if I get the place I have ‘ to

look after the children's section and the club they run for them.'

Bronwyn looked faintly horrified, 'Well, I suppose you'll manage. You certainly can't put a foot wrong as far as

young Sarah is concerned. She trails after you like a faithful dog.'

There was nothing disparaging in her sister's voice, but Linnet felt that somehow Bronwyn would never be able

to appreciate Sarah. Which would be awful, if she and Justin married.

There was nothing she could say. Her sister was ah intensely private person and although she was easy to live

with there was no sign of her unbending at all. Certainly, Linnet mused as she washed the dishes, she couldn't

imagine the older girl ever needing to confide in anyone. Like Justin Doyle, she oozed self-sufficiency.

Since that evening when he had offered to pay her for being a companion to Sarah they had not met, which, she

couldn't help feeling, was a good thing. Even now she went hot at the remembrance of\ her rudeness, while

being totally unable to account for it. If Bronwyn hadn't made up such a story, even if he didn't feel that he had

every reason to distrust and dislike her, Linnet felt that they still would have felt antipathy for each other.

Mutual incompatibility, no doubts-the opposite to love at first sight.

Outside it was almost dark; these days of daylight saving meant that they ate later. The sky had mellowed into

magnificence, the tangerine afterglow of the sunset giving way to a deep vibrant midnight blue where Venus

glowed like an immense pearl. It was very still and quiet because of the temporary lull in the traffic, and in the

distance a wayward thrush sang an angelus before retiring to the night.

'By the way,' said Bronwyn, coming into the kitchen just as Linnet hung up the dishcloth, 'Justin said to tell you

that you can swim in the pool any time you like. You don't have to wait to go in with Sarah.'

'Kind of him!'

'Yes.' Bronwyn removed the top from the canister of coffee. 'Mind you, he doesn't mean you to take it literally.

Not when he has guests, or when he's there.'

Linnet bit back a sharp retort. Perhaps Bronwyn felt that she had to dot every.

'I realise that,' she returned mildly.

'Are you going out with them to the fireworks tomorrow?'

Linnet looked her astonishment. ‘The Guy Fawkes display? No!'

'I think you might be,' Bronwyn smiled. 1 know Justin is taking Sarah, and I'm sure she'll want you to go too.'

She proved right.

'You will come, won't you?' Sarah pleaded the next day.

'Daddy said you could if you wanted to, arid I do want you to, Linnet. You're fun!'

And Daddy isn't? But Linnet didn't ask the question, and although her every instinct rebelled at the idea of

going anywhere with Justin-Doyle she was not proof against the importunities of his daughter.

'Goody, goody,
goody!'
Sarah chanted, dancing around her, her jean-clad legs long and far too thin. 'Anna is

making gingerbread to put in a hamper and we're taking hot drinks, coffee for you and cocoa for me. Oh,

Linnet, it will be neat! I wanted to go last year, but I had a cold and we had to stay home and have a little show,