The Dark Stranger (10 page)

“
Well, Zachary
’
s most likely busy. Get along with you now and don
’
t keep him waiting.
”

Tina kissed her gratefully in farewell, the lump suddenly gone from her throat. Belle might still be asleep and unheeding but it made al
l
the difference that Cousin Craig was waiting to drive her to Truro and that he had risen early to do so.

She thought he regarded her with a certain puzzled amusement as she got into the Lancia beside him, then she remembered the school uniform she was wearing

“
‘
It does seem queer, doesn
’
t it?
”
she said, folding her hands neatly in her lap

“It changes you,” he said, remem
bering how she had looked that evening in the temple in her new, charming
frock which in the half light had made her seem almost a woman.

“
Only outside,
”
she replied.
“
Sometimes I think I
’
m too old to go back again.
”

“
You won
’
t go back in that sense,
”
he said unexpectedly.
“
At worse you may have rather fun being with them but not of them.
”

They were travelling swiftly between the high banks still topped by the morning mist, and she gave him a quick, appreciative look.

“
Then you do understand?
”
she said, and he smiled.

“
Oh, yes. You
’
re not a schoolgirl in the ordinary sense, Tina, but all the same I think you
’
ll still find the value of those things you were trying to explain to me that afternoon.
”

“
You know,
”
she said, surprised as always to find him so easy to talk to,
“
I don
’
t suppose I will be a shining light in the school after all this time. I mean, my standard of work must be miles behind my age, and I was never much good at games. I wonder if that hateful Janice Tilbury is still there. She used to crib people
’
s exercises and always be top of her form.
”

He grinned.

“
I detect a fourth form flavor already in that remark.
”

“
Fourth form—that
’
s probably where I
’
ll find myself,
”
she answered ruefully, then she laughed.
“
But when I get there I think I
’
ll be grateful to you, Cousin Craig, for making me go.
”

“
Wasn
’
t it what you wanted?
”

“
Y-es, but the summer was so settled that I began to feel differently.
”

“
You
’
ve been happy at Tremawvan, then?
”

“
Yes. I think so,
”
she said cautiously and he frowned.

“
You
’
re always very reserved with your answers, aren
’
t you, Tina? School will be a good thing. You shouldn
’
t, at your age, have to walk round simple emotions with so much caution.
”

“
I
’
ve had to learn caution,
”
she replied without thinking, and saw his mouth tighten.

“
Cousin Craig. I didn
’
t mean
—”
She began a little
wretchedly, but he gave her a brief smile which put an end to her explanation and drove in silence for most of
the way. She was too conversant with life
’
s lessons as taught by Belle, he thought impatiently. If, for no other reason, it was a good thing that she should get away for a year and develop a protective skin.

At the station she experienced the embarrassed melancholy of such departures. Craig was preoccupied with porters, and the exact location of the dining-car, and she stood unhappily on the platform trying not to get in the way until he told her to get into her carriage.

“
You
’
ve got enough money, haven
’
t you?
”
he asked, handing over her ticket.
“
If you need anything during the term write and let me know and I
’
ll see that Belle sends it.
”

“
Thank you,
”
she said dutifully, and stood at the window looking at him and remembering that first meeting, when he, the dark stranger, had entered her life with violence.

“
It was very nice of you to drive me here instead of Zachary,
”
she said shyly.
“
Thank you, Cousin Craig.
”

The aquiline pirate
’
s face on a level with her own was the face she remembered above a bright silk handkerchief, the dark Pentreath performing a trifling service for a stranger.

‘
We shall miss you,
”
he said politely, and before she could reply the guard
’
s whistle sounded and the train began to move.

“
Good-bye
...
”
she called, hanging out of the window, and he lifted a hand in salute and turned immediately to walk back along the platform.

II

It was a confused year with shifting values, Tina discovered, not sure at first if she liked the experiment. Adjustment did not come easily after months of living on the fringes of an adult world, and she was, as she had feared, sadly behind in the standard of work.

Often she was reminded of Craig
’
s suggestion that she might have fun being with it but not of it, and found it partially true. She made few friends that counted, for the girls in her form for the first couple of terms were
you
n
ger than she. Nevertheless she was grateful for the unconscious widening of development which she knew to be there, and grateful, too, that when the time came she could slip from the adolescent to the adult world without having to cross again that confusing no-man
’
s-land of immaturity.

She wrote weekly to Belle but got scanty letters in reply. There was no news, she said. The bad weather did not improve Brownie
’
s rheumatism or her temper. Craig was busy and the days were very boring. Craig himself did not write and Tremawvan seemed so remote and far away that it was no surprise when towards the end of term Belle asked if it would be possible for Tina to spend the Christmas holidays with a school friend. There would be nothing to amuse her at Tremawvan, she said, the maids were down with influenza and Craig did not want to be bothered with extra arrangements for Christmas.

T
ina
felt chilled by the letter. Belle had been right, then. He did not want to be troubled with her and it sounded as if Christmas was a festival that had little meaning for the Pentreaths. She spent the holidays at another girl
’
s home, envious of the family celebrations which she could share yet not be part of and the presents which were sent from Tremawvan seemed impersonal and a matter of form. She was glad when term began again and she could lose herself in the familiar routine of school.

It was in March that Craig wrote to her himself, a brief, rather formal little note saying that he expected her back for the Easter holidays and hoped that this time she had not made other arrangements. The letter puzzled her. His long silence had given her no indication that he took any interest in her progress, but now he sounded displeased, as if the decision not to return for Christmas had been of her own making. She answered as briefly that she would naturally do what he or Belle wished, and as the term drew to a close she began to look forward to the return to Cornwall.

As she took her seat in the train she was reminded of that first long journey which had ended with her getting out at the wrong station. This time that would not happen. She was travelling by an earlier train and Zachary was to meet her with the red Morris, but even so she was filled
with the same sense of expectancy which carried with
it
a faint distrust at what she might find in the house of a stranger.

Zachary
’
s long, dour face at Truro station gave her a sense of homecoming. He had always been kind in his silent, uncommunicative fashion and his face lit up at sight of her in unaccustomed animation.

“
We
’
ve missed
‘
ee,
”
he said laconically.
“
Something young about the place, you was, miss.
”

“
How
’
s my garden?
”
she asked at once because she knew her affection for the ruined temple had pleased him in the summer.

“
Coming along. I
’
ve sowed a few things and they
’
re coming up fine,
”
he replied.

“
You haven
’
t tidied it too much, have you, Zachary?
”
she asked anxiously.
“
Is the magnolia in bud? Do the birds come there as much as ever? Is it too early for the lizards?
”

So many questions to be asked, so much time to
mak
e
up since the summer. The cherry was flowering in cottage gardens and outside the Spanish Inn the giant chestnut was heavy with sticky buds. As they turned in at the high gates of Tremawvan the scent of newly-mown grass was on the air and even now a gardener was driving a motor mower across the smooth lawns, leaving a track of incredible precision behind him.

Tina ran into the house, calling:
“
Belle! Belle! Where are you?
”
And Brownie came across the hall to meet her.

“
Belle
’
s out, she said. Come here, child, and let me look at you. My! You
’
ve grown, I do believe.
”

“
When will she be back?
”
Tina asked when the greeting was over. It was Belle
she had wanted,
someone of her own to welcome her.

“
Not till late. She
’
s
over to Gwerrenporth playing
bridge and such like.
”

“
Oh! And Cousin Craig?
”

“
He
’
s not back yet. Had to stay late this evening to see the foreman about something. Get out of that nasty uniform before dinner, Tina. I never could abide it.
”

Brownie went upstairs with her, watching her critically while she changed. It seemed odd to Tina to be back in this room with its sprigged wallpaper and faded hangings
as if she had never been away. She put on the new wool frock which Belle had sent her for Christmas, and knew an irrational sense of disappointment that her stepmother had not been there to greet her. She fastened the wide leather belt tightly round her narrow waist and Brownie remarked:

“
You
’
re still too thin. Why didn
’
t you come for Christmas? Craig was disappointed.
”

Tina looked up quickly.

“
Cousin Craig? But Belle said
—”
she began, then
stopped at Brownie
’
s expression.

“
H
’
m, I thought as much,
”
Brownie said.
“
You can unpack now if you like.
”

Outside in the garden a cuckoo was calling, the first Tina had heard that year, and she shut her eyes quickly to wish.

“
Did you ever hear the tale about the cuckoo of Zennor?
”
asked Brownie, watching her.

“
No.
”

“
The village people there once built a hedge round a cuckoo to keep hold of the spring.
”

“
Oh,
”
said Tina softly, her liking for superstition charmed by such an idea.
“
Brownie, would there be time before dinner for me to go to the temple? Zachary has planted some things in my garden.
”

“
Yes, if you
’
re quick, but you won
’
t see much, it
’
s getting dusk. Don
’
t keep Craig waiting for dinner and mind you finish your unpacking first thing tomorrow morning.
”

“
I will,
”
promised Tina, and snatching up a coat ran out of the room and down the stairs, hoping she would not meet Craig in the hall.

The sun had dipped behind the distant moor and the walks and shrubberies were dark and a little dank as she ran through the grounds, but in the clearing beyond, the evening light still lay gathered, and the temple stood waiting, just as she remembered it, with its broken plinths and columns and its moss-grown steps, but in the rough surrounding grass wild daffodils grew in careless abandonment, planted, Tina was sure, long ago by Jessie Pentreath and left to run riot. Someone had cleared away the rotting leaves of winter and in the garden Tina had made
u
nder the magnolia tree, Zachary
’
s seeds were thrusting through the freshly-turned earth.

She read the little labels in the failing; light. Mignonette
...
veronica
...
larkspur ... all the old-fashioned flowers of childhood, she thought, thinking lovingly of Zachary who had known instinctively what she would choose herself.

“
Tina!
”

It was Craig
’
s voice calling from the azalea walk, and she jumped guiltily. Was it so late, she wondered, remembering her own disastrous sense of time.

“
I
’
m coming,
”
she shouted and the next moment he stood at the edge of the clearing, tall and dark and aquiline, just as she remembered him.

“
How do you do, Cousin Craig,
”
she said gravely, staring at him with those widely-spaced eyes.

“
How do you do, Tina,
”
he returned equally gravely, then she moved brushing the hair from her face with a nervous gesture.

“
Am I late?
”
she asked.
“
I
’
m sorry if I
’
ve kept you waiting.
”

“
There
’
s no hurry. I only came to welcome you home,
”
he replied and held out his hands.

Her shyness and doubts left her and she sprang across the clearing to put her own hands in his.

“
Home?
”
she repeated and saw again the vivid, penetrating blue of the gaze he bent upon her.

“
Well, I hope it is home,
”
he said with a quizzical smile.
“
I
’
m sorry I couldn
’
t get to Truro to meet you
.
But
I was kept late tonight.
”

“
Oh, but I didn
’
t expect
—”
she began and his expression was a little odd.

“
I wonder what you did expect,
”
he observed.
“
Are you still walking round your natural emotions with your customary caution?
”

She laughed and all at once, she found, as of old, he was easy to talk to. She showed him the seeds Zachary had sown and the daffodils which he confirmed had been planted by his mother, and she told him that although she had been very behind in her work the last six months she had now caught up and would be promoted to the sixth form her next and last term.

He watched her swinging on one of the broken columns of the temple. It was dusk now and in the half light she seemed timeless, ageless. Birds were still singing the last chorus of the evening and near at hand a cuckoo called once and flew away.

“
Brownie told me,
”
she said, lifting her head to listen,
“
that there
’
s a place in Cornwall where the villagers once built a hedge round a cuckoo to hold fast to the spring. Isn
’
t that a charming idea?
”

His face wore a curious expression.

“
The cuckoo of Zen
n
or,
”
he said slowly.
“
There
’
s a lot to be said for it. Shall I wall you up in the temple, Tina, to make sure of perpetual spring?
”

She looked down at him, a little startled. In the gathering dusk of the April evening he did not seem the same, and although he spoke lightly enough there was still the hint of a threat in his absurd question. She could imagine the dark Pentreaths with their pirate faces doing just that thing if it meant getting their own way.

“
You
’
re cold,
”
he said as he saw her shiver and told her it was time they went back to the house.

“
Why didn
’
t you come at Christmas?
”
he asked abruptly as they walked through the shrubberies.

“
I understood it wouldn
’
t be convenient,
”
she replied carefully.

“
I see.
”
He sounded cold and she said rather helplessly:
“
You don
’
t. But it was your house. When Belle said—I thought
—”

“
Well, don
’
t distress yourself,
”
he sounded a little impatient.
“
I naturally thought at the time you found your friend
’
s house more amusing, but it
’
s of no importance.
”
How bewildering he was, she thought, conscious now of tiredness after the long day. It was difficult to know whether he was Belle
’
s nice cousin offering a welcome which was as sincere as it was unexpected, or whether he was just rich Cousin Craig whose hospitality she had unwittingly offended.