The Golden Maze (18 page)

"I was . . . maybe I won't go, now," said Johanna, looking quickly at David, whose face was flushed as if annoyed.

But Yvonne was not content to leave it at that. She stood up, glared at Johanna and then at Peter.

"A fine way to treat a friend, I must say," she said angrily. "I did it for you. I'll see you in the morning," she added, and flounced out of the room.

There was another strange silence and then Johanna looked at Peter. "I'm sorry if I put my foot in it," she said, her voice sincere. "It just came out. I had no idea it was Yvonne until she said those same words and I recognised her at once."

He smiled : a little wearily, Cindy thought.

"Not to worry, Johanna, I had thought it was Yvonne, because I know how crazy she is about making money, but I had no way of proving it. I'm glad it came out this way."

How brave he was, Cindy was thinking. She longed to comfort him, for how hurt he must be that the girl he loved could behave so meanly. Yet she knew there was nothing she could say. She turned to Keith Ayres, by her side.

"Have you never been here before ?" she asked, her voice a little shrill, which startled her. "It's very lovely."

Keith Ayres looked at her thoughtfully. "So I've heard. You don't mind the rain and the cold ?"

Somehow the evening dragged by, with everyone obviously doing his or her best to behave normally, yet undoubtedly the memory of Yvonne Todd, with her flaming cheeks and flashing eyes as she defended herself with the words : 'I did it for you !', could not leave them. At last Peter went outside into the damp night to see Johanna and David off, and Keith was alone with Cindy.

"I'm sorry you should have been involved in all this unpleasantness," he said in his rather nice, deep voice. "It must have been an ordeal."

Cindy shivered. "It has been. I thought it was Mrs. Stone. I can't understand Yvonne. She's so clever and . .."

"A gambler," Peter said as he joined them. Cindy felt her cheeks burn as she looked at him apologetically. "I . . . I .. ."

Peter smiled at her. "That's all right, Cindy. I owe you an apology if anything. Yvonne is a brilliant

financier, but her one weakness is gambling. I imagine it's like a disease. Perhaps you'd agree?" Peter turned to Keith Ayres, who nodded.

"Absolutely. The bug bites them and they lose their senses. I can quite see how she felt, though I do rather . . ." Keith hesitated, looking at Cindy.

Peter nodded. "So do I. Well, Cindy, so you'll be off tomorrow," he said cheerfully. "I'll be seeing Yvonne in the morning and then we can have a chat with Luke, but .. ."

"Mr. Ayres will drive me to the garage to pick up my car," Cindy said quickly. Why prolong the agony? she asked herself, and although she knew the words sounded melodramatic, at least they were the truth. Why did love have to hurt one so? she wondered.

"Good," said Peter, still cheerful. "See you in the morning," he said, and walked towards the library, looking back. "I wonder if you could spare me a moment here, Ayres. It might be an idea if we looked at these figures now, save time in the morning. I know Cindy is eager to get off."

Cindy went upstairs slowly. It meant nothing to Peter that tomorrow she was going. Really, this time ! Alone in her room, she looked at Uncle Robert's diary. Should she hand it to Peter tomorrow? Would he impatiently toss it aside? Would it have more weight with him if it came by post, together with an explanatory letter? she wondered. He could be so impatient at times, he might not give her a chance to tell him what he had to know.

The door handle turned. Hastily she tucked the book under her pillow and wondered if she had done

it fast enough as Mrs. Stone appeared, a hot water bottle in her hand: Every night she put a bottle in each bed, but surely tonight she was rather late?

"It's very good of you, Mrs. Stone," said 'Cindy, uncomfortably-aware that Mrs. Stone was looking at her curiously. This wasn't the first time Mrs. Stone had nearly caught her reading Uncle Robert's notes, Cindy realised. Anyhow, only tonight left, she comforted herself. This time tomorrow she would be miles away .

Alone. Alone in her miserable little 'bedsitter. How was she going to bear it?

Simple, she told herself as she quickly undressed. She had no choice. It was as simple as that.

IN the morning Cindy found only Keith in the dining-room. Mrs. Stone was telling him that Mr. Baxter and Miss Todd had gone off some time before—and that Miss Todd had taken all her luggage with her. This, Mrs. Stone said almost triumphantly, and she glanced silently at Cindy as if thinking : 'Well, she'll be gone soon, too !'

As they ate the well-cooked bacon and eggs, Keith Ayres looked at Cindy.

"I think you took it very well yesterday. Most girls would have been furious with Miss Todd."

Cindy smiled. "I was—terribly angry. There were lots of things I wanted to say, but what was the good? The damage was done."

"I still think you're being very generous. The castle would have been yours all right. Peter Baxter didn't want it."

Cindy poured out some more coffee. "I'm afraid you were right, you know." She sighed. "I had a long talk with Mr. Fairhead,—you'll like him, a very nice man—and quite honestly, I don't know how I was going to keep the castle going, so maybe it's better this way. At least Uncle Robert would be happy knowing Peter was here."

Keith Ayres passed her the toast, then the butter and marmalade. "Mrs. Stone is a good cook." "Isn't she ?" Cindy gave a little laugh. "I had a

feeling that it was Mrs. Stone who'd told the newspaper all those lies. I never once thought of Yvonne."

"It's certainly more understandable from Mrs. Stone's point of view,'' Keith Ayres agreed. He glanced at her thoughtfully. "Is it true, Miss Preston, that you're in love with your boss ?"

"In love with my boss ?" Cindy was startled. "What makes you ask that ?"

"Just that Peter Baxter is rather annoyed because you're so eager to get back to London. He said you were crazy about your boss."

Cindy laughed. "Of course I'm not ! I only said he, was a good thoughtful boss and I liked him. Peter jumped to conclusions, that's all."

"I see." He smiled. "Then you're not bespoken for."

"Goodness, no," Cindy said quickly, and wished Keith Ayres would not look at her so intently. She began to twirl a spoon on the tablecloth, concentrating on it.

"Not by anyone ?" Keith Ayres asked quietly.

"Not by anyone." After all, that was the truth, Cindy thought. She loved Peter, but that didn't mean he loved her !

"I wonder when he'll be back." Keith Ayres sounde
d impatient. "I want to get to London and
I know you do, too. I wonder if it might be a good idea to go and get your car now."

"Oh no," Cindy said quickly. "Peter will have arranged for you to meet Luke Fairhead and he .. . well, he would be annoyed if you weren't here when he got back. It sounds as if he was driving Yvonne

to the station, but it wouldn't surprise me in the least if she comes back with him."

"You think he'd let her?"

Cindy shrugged. "They're always quarrelling. You should hear them, and the next moment, smiling at one another. It's just the sort of quarrelling some married people seem to enjoy."

"For the making it up again ?" he suggested. "Yes."

"So you think they'll ... marry?"

Shrugging again, Cindy said : "I honestly don't know. She seems to think so. She said they would only live up here a part of the year, but usually they'd be in London."

"And he—what did he say?"

"Oh, he wasn't there. He's never said anything about marriage, but he's .. . well, I would say he is in love with her. because he lets her nag him and he finds it funny. Now if I tried to do that ..."

"He wouldn't find it funny?"

"He'd tell me to stop acting like a child," Cindy said ruefully.

They finished breakfast and went to stand outside the castle. The sun was not out, but at least it was not raining. Cindy waved her hand towards the lake.

"Isn't it beautiful ?"

Keith Ayres gave her a quick look. "You'll miss it. Very different from London's traffic and noise."

"I know," Cindy said wistfully. "However, I do get out in the country at weekends. Having a car makes that easy."

They walked towards the cliff edge where the

grass slid down towards the water, and turned to look at the castle.

"I must confess," Keith Ayres said slowly, "to me it's just a castle---,a big one and in good condition, admittedly, but all the same a mock castle: No history, nothing to make it stand out."

"But it's beautiful !" Cindy turned to him. "Don't you love all those towers and the funny chimneys at the back and ... and . . ."

"Everything ? You love it because it was a childhood dream. I think we all remember certain times when we were very happy when young."

Cindy didn't answer for a moment. She was staring at the castle, taking in the beauty of the battlements, the aged drawbridge, the water that still trickled through what had once been the moat. How many times must she say goodbye to the castle? she wondered sadly, for each time it was harder than before.

A car came up the drive. They turned and saw Peter, who waved, and as soon as he was' out of the car, came striding across to them. He looked pleased with life.

"Here I am. Sorry to have kept you waiting," he said cheerfully. Then he looked at Cindy and his voice changed. "I imagine you'll want to pack. You can have your chauffeur in an hour's time. Come on, Ayres, Luke will be waiting for us."

The two men walked away. Cindy looked up at the majestic facade of the castle once again and then went into the hall and up to her room. She finished packing, locked the suitcase and took it down to the hall. Then she went into the library to look through

the many books in order to pass the time. She found one that interested her—it was to do with the future of castles and questioned how much longer
castles would be protected and p
aid for by the State.

Curled up on the window seat, Cindy was reading this when she heard a noise in the hall. She began to get up and then sat back, for it was probably Mrs. Stone polishing the beautifully-carved banister and Cindy was in no mood for Mrs. Stone's icy glare.

When Cindy heard the men's voices in the hall she hurried to join them. They were talking seriously, but both smiled as they saw her.

"A cup of coffee," Peter said cheerfully, "and then you can be on your way. I've phoned the garage, Cindy, and the car is ready for you. Luckily not too much damage was done. I'll just tell Mrs. Stone . .."

"No, I will," Cindy said, and ran down the hall to the baize door that shut off the kitchen area. "Mrs. Stone !" she called, and heard a drawer slam. Mrs. Stone came to meet her, her face flushed, her hair more wispy than usual.

"What is it now?" she asked crossly.

"Mr. Baxter would like coffee for the three of us, please," Cindy said, and hurried back to the men, who were still talking in the drawing-room.

The coffee came—delicious, as usual, and very hot. As they drank it, Cindy listened to the two men discussing the castle's finances.

"Admittedly it means a good deal would have to be invested, but I agree that it should pay in the long run. It could be the sort of hotel that would attract tourists." Keith Ayres grinned. "Why not ask

Miss Younge to be receptionist? Her tales of hidden treasure might encourage even more visitors !"

A cloud seemed to pass over Peter's face, but it was soon gone. "A good idea—if she stays here. I think she's getting rather fed up with life."

"She's lonely," said Cindy.

Keith Ayres turned at once. "Aren't we all? I don't know about you, Miss Preston, but I reckon one of the loneliest places in the world is a bedsitter in London."

Cindy nodded. "I should know," she agreed. "I'd have thought you'd make friends more easily here."

"I agree all the way," said Peter, "but it might not be friends who talk your language, share your interests. I think that's the trouble with Johanna. She feels she's growing old before her time. Maybe a difficult job in London would boost her morale a bit. She's still a very attractive person."

Everyone was attractive to Peter except herself, Cindy thought unhappily. Keith Ayres, glancing at his watch, stood up.

"I'll just go up to my room and check that I've left nothing out. I see your suitcase is already down,"

he said to Cindy. ''Yes''

And then they were alone, she and Peter. Peter stirred his coffee slowly, looking intently at it.

Suddenly Cindy could bear it no more. Poor Peter, he was so miserable and so bravely hiding it.

"I'm sorry about Yvonne," she said gently. "Some people are made like that."

Peter looked up. "Don't be sorry for her, Cindy, she needs a good spanking. It was the meanest, most