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'But I'm not frozen,' she had protested.

'I think you are,' he told her kindly. 'Look, Sonya, I'm not being fresh, I'm trying to be friendly, so why can't you be natural? You aren't really the stuck up piece they all say you are, I'm sure.'

'Indeed I'm not!' She was shaken by this revelation of how she was regarded. 'It's only that I'm not used to the society of young people. I'm scared of the things they do and say; they haven't any reticence about anything and I don't know how to take them.'

Her big grey eyes looked at him appealingly. She was not a beauty, but there was great charm in her piquant, pointed face, and her mass of dark curls and her big eyes were beautiful.

'How come?' he had asked, marvelling that a modern girl could be so unsophisticated.

Haltingly she had begun to tell him of her peculiar upbringing, and emboldened by his sympathy, the dam of her reserve broke, and her words poured forth in flood. He was secretly astonished that in this day and age a young person, and Sonya was barely of age, could submit to such discipline, but he realised she accepted it because of her deep love for her father. He was indignant on her behalf that her old man, as he termed him, could be so selfish as to exploit his disability to hold his daughter in such subjugation, but he was wise enough not to voice his viewpoint.

After that they became firm friends and he helped her to mix with the other members.

On this particular morning he was waiting for her in the canteen at the table they always occupied. His eyes brightened as he watched her graceful figure coming towards him. Dancing and fencing had been part of her training to give her poise and balance. She moved
beautifully. She smiled sweetly as she greeted him. She liked him very much and she was grateful to him, but he had no sexual appeal for her at all; she thought of him as a kind brother. That was unfortunate from his point of view, but a protection from hers. When he had allowed her greater liberty, her father had impressed upon her that she could not afford to fall in love; any emotional involvement would be disastrous to her career. Being innocent and unaroused, Sonya had blithely promised she would never commit any such folly, at least not until she had established herself as a skating star. It seemed such a remote possibility that the promise cost her nothing.

'I can't imagine caring for any man more than you, Daddy,' she had told him. 'You're everything to me. It's very unlikely I'll meet anyone at the club who'll interest me at all. I ... I'm rather scared of modern boys, they're such brash know-alls and out for only one thing where girls are concerned.'

She had laughed as Eliot raised his brows.

'I do know the facts of life, Daddy, in spite of not going to school. I read a lot, you know.'

Derek was not a brash know-all, and he had not yet made a pass at her, so her confidence in her immunity remained unshaken, but instinctively she did not tell her father that she had acquired a boy-friend. He would consider poor Derek a menace and perhaps seek to curtail her new-found liberty.

They put their heads together over the not very inspiring menu while they chose what they would eat, and a waitress came to take their order. That business settled, Derek leaned back with a sigh.

'You seemed to be having an interminable lesson,'

he complained. 'You must know how to make loops and brackets in your sleep.'

'I do dream of them,' she admitted, 'and in my dreams I always do them wrong.' She smiled wanly, for that was a form of nightmare. 'But I'll be free all afternoon to skate on the big rink. We might even have a shot at pair skating.'

'Will that heavy-handed instructor of yours allow it?'

'Oh, I think so. After all, it's Saturday and more or less recreation time. You can't come on weekdays and I'm not permitted to stay in the evenings.'

Derek moved impatiently.

'Isn't it time you asserted yourself? You're coming up for nineteen and old enough to do as you please.'

She shook her dark curls.

'I daren't do anything to upset Daddy,' she said earnestly. 'He seems to think London night life is a sort of Sodom and Gomorrah, so to keep him happy I'm always home by dark. After all, it's only a small sacrifice when you think of what he's suffered.'

Derek frowned. Sonya carried filial duty too far in his opinion; she had her own life to lead.

'You've got a father fixation,' he growled.

'Don't be horrid, Derek,' she rebuked him. 'He's the best of fathers. He gives me everything I could possibly want.'

Except freedom, Derek thought, but did not say it. Where Eliot Vincent was concerned Sonya was, in his opinion, quite unreasonable.

Although it was Saturday there were not many people in the canteen. Most of the clientele came in the afternoons and evenings. A blonde girl came in and glanced round at the empty tables. Then she spotted Derek, and came towards them, swaying her hips.

'Hi!' she said languidly. 'The place seems deserted. May I join you?'

'Of course, if you want to,' Derek was reluctant but polite. 'How come you're on your own, Thomasina?'

The girl laughed affectedly.

'He didn't show up, the rotten heel,' she said scathingly. 'He'll get a bomb when he does appear. I don't like being stood up.'

'Who does?' Sonya murmured sympathetically.

Thomasina regarded her sourly.

'No one with an ounce of savvy would ever stand you up,' she said nastily. 'Not with that rich father. Heiresses don't grow on every gooseberry bush.'

She gave Derek a meaning look as if that accounted for his devotion to Sonya.

Sonya flushed. She admired Thomasina Reed, who was considered the club beauty. She had looks and sophistication, being a vivacious blonde with a very white skin, round blue-grey eyes and a mass of golden hair, though gold was not its natural hue. She was tall and slim and curved in the right places. It pained Sonya that Thomasina was so inimical towards her, not realising she was jealous. The blonde had taken up skating because being a model girl, she foresaw the time when fashion shows might be given on ice. She could have been really good if she had not been too lazy to apply herself, but she resented what everyone knew, that Sonya was being groomed for stardom, believing she could surpass her if she had the same opportunities. She had no use for other girls, and had
only joined them because Derek was the only presentable male in the room.

'I wouldn't know,' Sonya said placatingly. 'You see, I never make dates.'

She glanced at Derek for she had been forced to refuse all invitations from him for evening entertainments owing to her father's edict.

The round blue eyes stared at her. 'You can't be human,' Thomasina observed, and turned to give her order to the waitress. 'Just coffee and a salad,' she told her, 'I have to preserve my figure.' Her glance returned to Sonya, who was eating a meringue. 'Some girls are lucky. If I ate that...' She shrugged expressively.

'Sonya burns up calories with hard work,' Derek told her.

'Slavery,' Thomasina declared. 'Thank God I don't aspire to be a champion. And talking of champions, do you know who's going to be here tonight?'

'Sven Petersen,' Sonya said promptly.

'Oh, who told you?' Thomasina looked disappointed at having her news forestalled.

'Jan van Goort.'

'Of course he would be in the know. What a shame you can't stay to watch him. You'll have to go home, won't you?'

'Yes, but I don't mind.'

Sonya had reason to dislike the name of Sven Petersen. At the early age of sixteen, with his sister Ingrid, he had electrified the skating world by winning the figure skating event at the Winter Olympics for the best competing pair. For two seasons this phenomenal couple had been considered invincible, then Ingrid vanished from the scene, but her brother continued on
his own to become the finest solo skater in the world. Eliot Vincent had consistently rammed his triumphs down her throat. What Sven could do she, with her unique heritage, should be able to emulate. But at sixteen she was still struggling to master the 'school' figures. 'Late developer,' Jan had sought to excuse her, and Eliot was somewhat placated when she eventually reached championship status. She knew her father intended her to make her debut at the Canadian figure skating international next spring, and with his prestige and Jan's recommendation, for Jan was a much esteemed coach, she would probably be accepted, but if he expected a repeat of Sven's triumph, Sonya knew he was going to be bitterly disappointed.

'I expect you've often seen him on television,' Derek remarked.

'Well ... er ... not often,' Sonya said evasively, unwilling to have to confess that an aversion to television was another of her father's eccentricities. He refused to have a set in the house, giving as an excuse that while Sonya was a teenager the small screen would distract her from her studies, but in truth he disliked watching the activities of others from which his disabled state precluded him. He compromised with a radio, but Sonya never turned on the sports news nor read it in the paper. All sport was linked in her mind with skating, which she liked to forget when she was not at the rink. As soon as she was allowed out alone she visited the local library, and romantic novels, especially historical ones, became her main recreation. She found the adventures of these fictional heroes and heroines much more satisfactory than her few contacts with real people.

Tie's absolutely great,' Thomasina enthused, 'and to think he's actually going to be here in person thrills me to bits.'

Derek looked glum.

'To be able to skate isn't everything,' he observed, for he was only a very average performer himself. 'If you ask me that guy's been overrated; it's girls like you, Tom, who're to blame. Every female who can wobble on the ice and a lot who never go near a rink make an idol of him.'

Thomasina laughed. 'Who's seeing green?' she mocked. 'It isn't his fault that he's become a sort of folk hero.'

'No, but he laps up adulation in a disgustingly smug manner. You won't miss much, Sonya, we'll all be expected to freeze behind the barrier and clap our hands off in applause.'

'Even Sonya Vincent might be able to learn something from watching him,' Thomasina said cattily. 'And he's a gorgeous guy.'

'Sonya isn't interested in men, however gorgeous,' Derek declared quickly, and Thomasina laughed again derisively.

'She's getting to be a big girl, her ice will have to melt eventually.'

'But not for Sven Petersen,' Derek insisted loudly. 'She's got better taste.'

'Jan's going to try to persuade Daddy to let me stay to watch him skating,' Sonya interposed, disliking Thomasina's baiting. 'So I can judge for myself, if he succeeds.'

Her expressive face clouded; she was recalling that
Eliot Vincent had been equally famous once upon a time.

'Oh, really?' Thomasina did not look pleased. Sonya being who she was might attract more attention than she merited. 'Then you'll see how ill-founded Derek's prejudices are.'

'I'm not prejudiced, you've only got to look at the fellow ...'

'That's what I'm going to do,' Thomasina interrupted, 'and with any luck I'll make him look at me.'

'As a matter of fact,' Sonya spoke diffidently, 'I did glimpse him this morning.'

'You did?' Thomasina threw her a venomous glance. 'How come?'

'He was talking to Jan at the edge of the ice. Of course it was only in the distance. If I'd known then who it was I'd have left those horrible brackets and come nearer to have a closer look. All I saw was a slender figure in black with very fair hair.'

'What a missed opportunity,' Derek jeered.

'Yes, wasn't it?' she returned serenely. 'He's Swedish, isn't he?'

'I believe so—Nordic anyway. I adore fair hair on a man,' Thomasina declared fervently, glancing scornfully at Derek's dark brown thatch.

The waitress brought her meal and she began to eat while Derek groaned.

'You see,' he said to Sonya. 'We lesser mortals haven't a look in when blond champions are around. I hope you do miss him, Sonya, or even you might succumb.'

'What do you mean by that?' she demanded, wide-eyed.

'Well, so far you've given a fair imitation of an iceberg towards any amorous advances,' he complained. 'But you might melt towards him.'

Sonya glanced towards Thomasina, but she was not attending. Her gaze was fixed upon a newcomer at the bar with a calculating expression. She was not finding her companions' company amusing.

'I come here to skate, not to flirt,' she told him severely.

'Dedicated!' he groaned. 'But some girls can do both.'

'I'm not one of them,' Sonya returned. So far Derek's manner towards her had never been more than fraternal, but even she was not so naive that she did not suspect his feelings were more than brotherly. Thomasina rose from her chair, leaving her salad half eaten. 'So long,' she said, and made for the bar and her new prey. Sonya leaned towards Derek and said in a low voice:

'Don't spoil it, Derek. I value you as a friend, but I
am
dedicated to skating and I can't afford to fall in love.'

She was sure she could never give Derek more than the affection she felt towards an elder brother, but that she could not tell him. Intuitively she knew that such an admission would hurt him, and she hoped that she was warning him in time.

Derek wistfully surveyed her heart-shaped face, framed by her black curls, and the limpid grey eyes, that sometimes appeared almost violet, raised to his appealingly, eyes in which passion had never been kindled. She seemed as sexless and elusive as a sylph, and indeed when he had watched her skimming over the ice she looked like an elfin being. He sighed.

'You're not immune, he told her gruffly. His eyes went to her beautiful mouth with its full lower lip. It was a mouth formed for kissing and not that of a nun ... or a dedicated skater. 'One day you'll fall heavily, skating or no skating, and I hope for your sake it won't be for a heel like Sven Petersen.'

Sonya was about to protest vigorously against such a slur upon the skater whom he had not even met, but she checked herself. Derek was much more worldly-wise than she was, who had been totally shielded from the seamy side of life. He might have gleaned some information about Sven that he did not want to reveal to her as being unfit for her ears. Secretly she was ashamed of her inexperience and wished heartily that her father had permitted her to lead a normal life and have a conventional education. Often the forthright conversations she overheard at the club made her blush and a lot of their bawdy jokes were unintelligible to her. She said slowly: