Kingfisher Morning

by Charlotte Lamb

  'Thank you,' she said huskily, with an effort.

  His face moved closer, as if involuntarily. Their eyes held. Then they heard Edie's voice outside, heard Robin's busy little feet hurrying along the path.

  The moment shattered. They drew apart, both rather flushed. Emma lifted Donna from her chair at the sink, and Ross turned to greet the others. Time flowed on again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  'We haven't discussed the subject of compensation yet,' Ross said a day later, as he and Emma amicably pruned the roses together while Edie took the children for a walk down the road to see Mrs Pat.

  Emma's smooth brow wrinkled. 'Compensation?' She connected the word, not surprisingly, with the accident. 'I think Judith will have to get in touch with my insurance company, won't she? I was fully insured, thank goodness.'

  'Not for Judith,' he said, grinning. 'For you, fathead.'

  'Me?' She stared. 'I wasn't hurt!'

  'Compensation for looking after the children,' he said patiently. 'A weekly wage, a salary—call it what you like. You're doing a great job. Judith will be very grateful. When I visited her yesterday she asked me to mention it to you—she left it to you to decide what sum to fix.'

  'I don't want money,' she protested, horrified.

  'Nonsense, of course you must be paid. Why should you do all this for nothing?'

  'Two reasons,' she said coolly. 'Number one, I feel responsible for the accident. Number two, I'm having the time of my life. I ought to pay you. I'm having free board and lodging, an enchanting holiday, and I have the pleasure of looking after three adorable children. I haven't enjoyed myself like this for years.'

  'You're a very surprising girl, do you know that?' He studied her like a scientist with some rare species of insect under his microscope. 'Look, are you sure about this?'

  'Certain,' she said firmly.

  He shrugged. 'Well, I'll leave the subject for the moment. No doubt Judith will have something to say when you see her.'

  'Is it arranged that I take the children in to see her on Sunday, then?' she asked.

  They had had a little difficulty over arranging for the children to visit their mother. She had been moved into an open ward, and small children were discouraged from visiting, since they might see sights which would disturb them.

  Ross nodded. 'Just for five minutes, the ward Sister insisted. I think both Judith and the children need to have this visit, so I pressed hard for her to agree to it, or I think she would have been more difficult.'

  'The children are secretly a bit worried about their mother,' Emma agreed. 'I hope that a visit, however short, will reassure them a little. Particularly Donna…She may be very young, but that makes it harder for her to understand what's happening.'

  The gate creaked open behind them, and they turned. Amanda stood there, immaculate as ever in a cashmere twin set, creamy pearls and a misty blue tweed skirt.

  'What a glorious afternoon,' she said, giving Ross one of her bright, admiring smiles.

  Emma returned to her pruning, snipping away energetically as if her life depended upon it.

  'Your nanny seems a little over-enthusiastic with those clippers,' Amanda drawled, delighted to put Emma into the wrong.

  'Hey!' Ross grinned. 'Leave something on the bush, won't you?'

  'I'll show you,' Amanda said sweetly, deftly removing the clippers from Emma's fingers before she realised what was happening. 'We know something about pruning, don't we, Ross?' She turned her attention to one of the standards, a soft apricot rose with damask petals and a mass of blooms. Emma reluctantly had to admit that Amanda certainly did know what she was doing. She pruned fast, but precisely.

  Ross watched wryly, hands on hips. Amanda glanced up at him, her sapphire blue eyes gleaming gently. 'The gardens at Queen's Daumaury are looking their best just now, I think.' She spoke very softly, her tone curiously insidious, as though she trod on delicate ground. 'The roses are still in full bloom, but the shrubberies are so colourful. The buddleias!'

  'I'm no gardener,' Ross cut in tersely. 'I keep this place tidy when I have time, but that's my limit. I'll go and see if Edie has put the kettle on.'

  'I just saw her down at that public house,' said Amanda sharply.

  Ross looked blank, as though he had forgotten. 'Well then, I'll put the kettle on myself.'

  'No, let me,' said Emma sweetly. 'You stay and talk to Amanda, Ross.'

  He gave her a wrathful glance, but unmoved, she left them together and went into the house.

  Ross, joined her later, alone. She gave him a secret, amused little glance, then asked innocently, 'Oh, where's Amanda? Didn't she want any tea?' She had laid out shortcake on a rose-strewn plate, placed three cups on a tray.

  'No, she did not,' Ross said shortly.

  'Well, you do surprise me,' Emma murmured, eyes lowered to hide the gleam of amusement.

  He shot her an unsmiling look. 'Don't be funny with me, Emma. I'm not in a humorous vein.'

  She lifted her eyes to his dark face, a dimple at the side of her pink mouth. 'Why, you do sound fierce!' Laughter brimmed in the warm brown eyes.

  He took her suddenly by the elbows, shook her vehemently. 'You little cat! How dare you make fun of me?' But he was not as grim as he sounded, the grey eyes held a smile as he looked down into her upturned face.

  'Amanda's very lovely,' Emma said with apparent irrelevance.

  'Oh, exquisite,' he nodded. 'Like a Dresden shepherdess, fragile and lovely and very, very expensive.'

  'Is she a member of the Daumaury family?' Emma asked, wondering if Ross avoided Amanda because he felt her to be above his touch, a bright star forever out of his reach.

  He turned away from her and stared out of the latticed windows at the bright, sunlit garden. 'Yes,' he said curtly.

  'Is she Leon Daumaury's granddaughter?'

  'I'm not certain what the exact relationship is,' Ross said brusquely. 'I think she's his great-niece, but it may not be as close as that.'

  'Do her parents live at the house, too?'

  'They're dead,' said Ross.

  'Oh…' Emma looked upset. 'Poor Amanda! How very sad.'

  Ross shrugged. 'It was years ago. She got over it long ago.'

  'Does one ever get over things like that? There must always be a gap.'

  'What about you?' He looked at her. 'Your parents? Still alive?'

  She smiled. 'Of course, and very busy. My father's a doctor in Norfolk, a rather remote village practice. My mother breeds Siamese cats. I've got three brothers and a sister, all married, and five nephews and a niece.' Her brown eyes were filled with loving warmth. 'We're a close sort of family. I'm the only one who left Norfolk, in fact.'

  'You left to take up your art training, I suppose?'

  'Yes. I had no option. London is the best place to train, although, of course, I could have gone to an art college locally.'

  'But you were eager to taste big city life?' His voice was gently mocking.

  She laughed. 'Something like that.'

  'So you're country bred, after all,' he murmured. 'Why didn't you say so before? Why let me go on making false assumptions about you?'

  She gave him a sparkling glance. 'Perhaps it will teach you not to jump to conclusions about people in future!'

  He pinched her cheek. 'Miss Impudence! Do you have a flat in London?'

  'Yes,' she said.

  'Share it, or live alone?'

  Her eyes lifted, wide and innocent. 'Share it, actually.'

  'Oh? Is your flatmate nice?'

  'What a lot of questions you ask,' said Emma sweetly. 'Very nice, as a matter of fact.'

  He grimaced. 'I see. The flow of information now ceases, does it? Am I treading on very private ground?' His eyes were sharp as they rested on her face.

  She laughed. 'I can see that imagination of yours working away again! No, it isn't private ground. I share my flat with a friend of mine called Fanny—she's a secretary, works for a publisher. She's very pretty, a blonde, and very swe
et. We've shared the flat for two years. Any more questions?'

  'The obvious one,' he said coolly.

  Her eyes opened very wide. 'Oh? What's that?'

  'Where's the man in your life?' he asked.

  She was silent for a second, then said calmly, 'There isn't one at present.'

  He watched her. 'At present,' he repeated.

  Emma had a sudden image of Guy, his face dappled by sunshine under silver birch trees, agile and healthy in tennis clothes, smiling at her. She half-closed her eyes, waiting for pain to tear at her heart, but felt only calm acceptance. Her eyes opened again, a frown of relieved disbelief gathering on her brow.

  Ross was still watching her closely. 'Has it been over long?' he asked gently.

  She looked at him, astonished, and found herself answering without hesitation. 'Not long.'

  'It was serious? For you, at least?'

  'I thought so,' she said, still incredulously testing her own feelings.

  'And for him?'

  'No, never for him, although I thought so, but that wasn't his fault, it was mine,' she answered incoherently.

  'He must have given you cause to think so,' said Ross coldly.

  She shook her head. 'No. Oh, no. We were friends.' She looked at him appealingly. 'That is possible, you know—friendship between a man and a woman, without strings.'

  'In your case it wasn't without strings, apparently,' he replied sardonically.

  'Guy didn't realise…'

  'He was a fool,' said Ross.

  Emma was about to protest, but in her heart of hearts she knew that she agreed with him. Guy must have been blind not to see what was happening to her.

  'How did it end?' Ross asked curiously.

  Flatly, she said, 'Fanny came home from America and…'

  'I get the picture,' Ross interrupted, hearing the echo of old pain in her voice.

  Emma looked at him. 'Do you know, I regret Fanny far more than I regret Guy…perhaps soon I'll be able to face her again.'

  'Is that why you came down here?' He spoke sharply.

  She nodded.

  'It was that recent?' Ross demanded.

  'It seems like a million years ago,' she said wonderingly. 'Isn't that strange? Sometimes time drags on for years, and nothing seems to happen. Then suddenly time telescopes, and things happen one after the other, giving you no pause for rest, so that you feel quite dazed and disorientated. Fanny and I shared that flat for two years. We dated, we enjoyed ourselves, we worked hard. But nothing really happened…do you know what I mean? It was all very peaceful. Then Fanny went away, and I met Guy and fell for him hard. Fanny came back and I saw their faces…it was like watching two clouds collide—the flash of electricity almost blinded me. I had to get away, so I came down here, only to crash into your sister and find myself, incredibly enough, playing nanny to three children. Sometimes I wonder if this is all real!'

  'It's real,' Ross said in a hard voice. 'So you came down here to mend a broken heart?'

  'I came to escape from an intolerable situation,' she said, not liking the tone of his voice. 'Fanny and Guy went around smelling like orange blossom all day. I couldn't stand it.'

  'A sad story,' he said mockingly.

  'If you'd ever been in love you wouldn't use that tone of voice,' she said angrily.

  'What makes you think I haven't?' he asked sardonically.

  She raised wide eyes to his face. 'Well, have you? You've just heard my life story. Is there to be no quid pro quo?'

  'Quid pro quo,' he murmured, grinning. 'A fair return, in other words? Why not? You satisfied my curiosity, and you've been impressively discreet yourself, despite everything. Well, then, yes, I've been in love…once or twice, as a matter of fact. When I was eighteen with a girl I met at college—a fellow student, who was kind but distant, and wanted to pursue her career, not marry me. I fell out of love as fast as I fell in, to tell the truth.'

  She sighed. 'I know what you mean. Sometimes I wonder if love exists at all. I've been briefly in love now and then—it was fun, but very temporary.' Then she looked at him, smiling. 'Sorry, I interrupted. What was the other time you fell in love?'

  He looked at her, hard. 'You don't know?'

  'Why should I?' She was puzzled.

  'Oh, village gossip, for one thing,' he said.

  'I don't listen to it, and anyway, there hasn't been any.'

  'Oh, there's gossip,' he said tartly. 'You just haven't heard it.' He moved towards the window, stood, his hands in his pockets, staring out. 'I met her at a dance. She was very beautiful and sweet, with big innocent blue eyes, like a child. I was knocked for six. It was obvious to everyone that I was serious, I suppose, and her family took it for granted that we would marry. We saw each other all the time, and gradually I…well, it sounds brutally hard, but I found that she bored me. She was silly, shallow, rather selfish. She came to stay at my home. My family approved of the marriage. But I felt I had to make it plain to her that I'd changed my mind. I told her one night…she cried and begged me to… Oh, hell, it was murder! She was in debt. Her family had spent money on clothes for her, money they couldn't afford…I was sorry for her. I offered to pay her bills, but I would not marry her.'

  Emma was very still, shocked by the story, wondering if the girl in question was Amanda Craig, but then surely it could not be, for Amanda lived at Queen's Daumaury, and must have plenty of money.

  Ross went on harshly, 'I was glad to get to bed that night, I can tell you. Around midnight I was woken up, though. It was her—she'd come to plead with me once more. She began to cry, to sob loudly. She ran out of my room, and I followed her, trying to comfort her. She ran into her own room and I turned back, but she began to scream like a train whistle. The next moment there were half a dozen people staring accusingly at me, and she appeared, her nightdress torn on the shoulder, her hair all over the place, accusing me of attempted seduction…'

  Emma was indignant. 'Well, what a beastly trick!'

  He swung, looked at her closely, his grey eyes searching her face. 'Thank you,' he said deeply.

  'For what?' She was puzzled.

  'For believing me.'

  'Of course I believe you,' she said warmly. 'No one who knew you would believe that you were capable of forcible seduction of a girl under your own roof!'

  'My…my family believed it,' Ross said in a harsh voice.

  'They didn't?'

  'They not only believed her story, they threw me out on the strength of it, and regarded me as a monster.'

  'What, Judith, too?' She was incredulous.

  'Not Judith, no. She always said the story was laughable.'

  'Mrs Pat wouldn't believe it, either,' said Emma thoughtfully, remembering certain cryptic remarks, and now able to interpret them in the light of Ross's explanation. She gave him a little grin. 'No wonder you didn't want me moving into the cottage unless you had a chaperone! Once bitten, twice shy!'

  He nodded. 'It was nothing personal, you understand. Just a sense of self-preservation.'

  'I can well understand it!' She shuddered. 'It leaves a nasty taste in the mouth, although in a way I feel sorry for her. She may have been in love with you and felt so desperate she lost her mind, temporarily, and prepared to do anything to keep you.'

  He grimaced. 'If you loved someone would you do "anything"? I've never accepted this modern theory that "love" excuses any crime, however beastly. From what you just told me about yourself and this Guy of yours, I imagine you would draw the line at stooping so low, too.'

  Emma sighed. 'Perhaps I wasn't as much in love with Guy as this girl with you? Who knows?'

  'Don't make excuses for her,' he snapped. 'I fancy love was not the motive. Money came first. She was desperate, all right—desperate for money.'

  'You're very cynical,' she said, half indulgently. 'I suppose it's only natural after such an experience.'

  'And you?' he asked. 'Are you cynical about men after your experience of love?'

  'Why should I
be? Guy was always straight with me. I fooled myself, I wasn't fooled by Guy. And believe me, he fell in love with Fanny at first sight—even though I was on the losing side I could see that.' She looked dubious. 'But it's true that I shall be extra cautious in future. I'm not going to be in any hurry to fall in love again. This mouse stays clear of traps in future.'

  Ross laughed. 'What a funny little creature you are!'

  'Why, thanks,' she said, offended. 'Glad I amuse you.'

  This only made him laugh louder.

  Emma felt, after this conversation, that she and Ross had achieved a new relationship, friendly and understanding, based on mutual trust. It was something of a shock, therefore, when very shortly after this she found herself once more at odds with him.

  She took the children over to visit their mother in the hospital. Judith was looking much better, and her face lit up when she saw the three children coming towards her. When she had hugged each one, she looked at Emma with a smile. 'How can I thank you?'

  'Nothing to thank me for,' said Emma casually.

  'Ross has done nothing but sing your praises,' Judith added firmly. 'I don't know what we would have done without you.'

  'Have you forgotten who got you into this mess?'

  'That dog!' Judith capped with a twinkle.

  Emma laughed. 'Well, yes, but I wasn't thinking fast enough.'

  'All the same, I'm grateful,' Judith insisted. 'The children look marvellous.'

  'Emma's a good cook,' said Robin in his cool little voice. 'Even Uncle Ross says so.'

  Judith's eyes met Emma's. 'Even Uncle Ross!' Judith murmured in complete understanding. 'My word, that's praise indeed!'

  Emma giggled.

  'How is he bearing up under the strain of playing host to a horde of kids?' asked Judith.

  'Bravely,' said Emma.

  'Hmm…'

  'Is it true we've got a grandfather?' Robin asked suddenly.

  There was a taut silence. Judith looked at him, then at Emma, her face pale, her eyes enquiring.

  Emma was not sure how to respond, but was saved the problem by Robin, who added, 'Tracy says we have. We saw him in a big car, he stared at us, but he didn't say anything. He's old and small…'