Dark Castle

by Anne Mather

  'Tell me about you,' Jonas said unexpectedly, and her head jerked round.

  'I told you about me at breakfast,' she replied.

  'No, you didn't. You talked a lot of nonsense about parties and deadlines and the men you've been mixing with. I want to hear about the real you, your personal life, what you've been doing - about this flat you rent in Pal- lister Court.'

  Julie gasped. 'How do you know I rent a flat in Pallister Court?'

  Jonas shook his head. 'Do you see much of Angela these days?'

  Julie's fingers curved tightly round the steering wheel. 'As a matter of fact, she's sharing the flat at the moment,' she admitted reluctantly.

  'Is she?' Jonas didn't sound surprised. 'And how did

  that come about?'

  'The building where she had her flat was pulled down to make way for a new block.'

  'Didn't they offer her alternative accommodation?'

  'Actually, they did. But she didn't want to live in one of I those glass and concrete structures. Pallister Court is old, but it's attractive.'

  Jonas's month turned down at the corners. 'I'm sure it is. So how long is she staying?'

  Julie shrugged. 'I don't know. Does it matter?'

  'To me, yes.' He thrust himself up in his seat, his eyes hard and uncompromising. 'Let's go!'

  Julie started the engine obediently, but she was disturbed by his behaviour. She knew that Angela had never liked Jonas, but she had never before realized exactly how much Jonas disliked Angela. Still, she argued reasonably, it was natural that whatever feelings he had felt for her ? would be destroyed when she had betrayed his unfaithfulness, unable, as he had been, to deceive his I wife.

  The pain this memory evoked caused Julie to press her foot hard down on the accelerator, and the Porsche fairly ? jumped forward, so that Jonas said: 'Death wish?' as they approached a corner at speed.

  Julie relaxed the pressure at once and applied the brakes, controlling the skid that could have overturned them, only to find she was trembling. She stopped the car and rested her hot forehead against the cool surface of the steering wheel. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered, ashamed of her emotionalism. 'I - I'm not used to having such power under the bonnet.'

  She felt the familiar sense of having behaved stupidly assail her. She had been over it all a hundred times in her mind. Why did she persist in letting memories tear her

  apart? Was it because the idea of any other woman sharing the intimacies she had shared with Jonas filled her with a sick sense of despair, or was it made worse because she had heard the other woman's side of it, too? Angela had wanted to exonerate herself - in the circumstances that was natural - and Julie had been placed in the impossible position of having to forgive her friend for something that had been wholly her husband's fault.

  'Stop indulging yourself!'

  Jonas's words were harsh and cruel, and she lifted her head to look at him. 'Indulging myself? How?'

  'Self-pity is a form of self-indulgence. Don't pretend you're not feeling sorry for yourself, because I don't believe it.'

  His words had a sobering effect as she guessed he had intended they should have, and with a determined effort she wiped her moist palms down the seams of her pants and licking her lips put the car back into gear again.

  It didn't take much longer to reach Newton Cam and as they drove along the village street, Julie looked about her with interest. There was the usual cluster of cottages, a store which appeared to sell everything imaginable, with a small cafe attached, a chapel and schoolhouse, and a few larger dwellings. It was to one of these larger houses that Jonas directed her, and as they turned between stone gate posts she saw the doctor's plate beside the door.

  'Will you wait in the car?' he inquired, thrusting open his door and getting out.

  Julie looked across at him. 'Will you be long?'

  He shrugged. 'That depends. The doctor might not be here, in which case I would have to wait.'

  Julie sighed. 'I think I'd rather go for a walk. If you have no objections.'

  'None at all.' He straightened. 'If I'm ready before you

  get back, I'll wait in the car.'

  He was cool and she wished she could do something to restore the relationship they had had before he started asking questions about Angela. He was walking towards the entrance, and she pushed open her door and scrambled out.

  'Jonas—'

  He turned, his hard handsome face uncompromising. 'Yes?'

  She faltered, 'W-would you like me to come with you?'

  'Where? To see the doctor? I think not.' He turned to the door again and she covered the space between them in seconds. 'Jonas, I'd like to ...'

  He looked down at her. 'Why?'

  She shrugged, moving uncomfortably. 'Oh - just, because ...' She sighed. 'Couldn't we be friends?' I His lips twisted. 'You have too many friends already, Julie,' he retorted coldly, and opened the door and entered the doctor's house.

  Julie stood where he had left her feeling unaccountably chilled. Then she hunched her shoulders, thrust her hands into her pockets, and walked slowly back to the car. She locked the doors, pocketed the keys, and after another fleeting glance at the house she walked to the gate.

  There were few people about in the village, and those that there were looked at her a trifle curiously, obviously wondering who she was and where she had come from. She walked to the end of the village street and stopped by a gate leading into some pastureland. There were a few sheep grazing, but the grass was crisp and frosty and the trees that were not conifers looked stark- and skeletal without their leaves. She leaned on the gate, her elbows

  resting on the top bar, her chin cupped in her hands. She still felt ridiculously emotional and she forced herself to think of the interview which had brought her here.

  It wouldn't be difficult to write about Jonas. She already knew enough about him to fill a book, but they were not the sort of things she could, or even wanted to, write down. However, if she kept the article on an impersonal footing she could use his general background, education, etc., to create a word picture of him. Maybe he would tell her a little more about the work he had done in South America, and she guessed that having achieved success with one book he would most certainly write another.

  She was lost in thought when a hand descended on her shoulder and she swung round in surprise to find Jonas just behind her.

  'I - I thought you were going to wait in the car,' she stammered.

  'You have the keys,' he pointed out dryly. 'Besides, I enjoyed the walk.' He looked towards the mountains which seemed so much closer here without the reflective expanse of water between them. 'It's a pleasant morning.'

  He moved away from her and she gathered her composure. 'Did - did you see the doctor?'

  'MacTavish? Yes, I saw him.'

  'So? What did he say?'

  'It's nothing serious. So far as he can ascertain, Rob got all the glass out. He's put a couple of stitches in my palm, that's all.'

  Julie felt relieved. 'Thank goodness for that!'

  'Why? What's it to you?' His eyes were dark and contemptuous. 'Are you afraid I might ask you to stay even longer to act as my secretary?'

  Julie bent her head. 'Shall we go back to the castle?' 'If you like.' He was indifferent.

  Julie scuffed her toe. 'It's only half past ten. Do you want to buy me a cup of coffee?'

  Jonas had begun to walk back along the village street, but now he turned and frowned. 'Coffee? Where?' : 'The cafe. It's open, isn't it?' ! 'I suppose so.'

  'There you are, then.'

  'Very well.' He waited for her to catch up with him. 'But I should have thought you'd have realized that if we go straight back to Castle Lochcraig you can get the interview over and catch the afternoon train to Inverness!'

  Julie caught her breath. 'What's the matter with you?' she exclaimed. 'What have I done that has annoyed you so much? Why are you being so - so objectionable?'

  'Objectionable?' He looked at her strangely. 'I thought
t you were eager to leave.'

  Julie's cheeks suffused with colour. 'All right, all right. We'll go straight back to Castle Lochcraig as you say. I'll interview you this morning, and I'll leave this afternoon.'

  She set away running, running back to where the car was still standing in the drive of Doctor MacTavish's house. Jonas caught her easily, halting her with his unbandaged hand, bringing her up short.

  'The cafe's over here,' he said, and something in his voice stopped her from contradicting him. 'Let's have that coffee.'

  While the elderly woman who ran the little snack bar attended to their needs, Jonas told her about a restaurant he had discovered in Caracas, Venezuela's capital, where the steaks were the thickest he had ever seen. They were

  served, he said, with jacket potatoes dressed with sour cream, and the way he described it Julie could almost taste them. Jonas had always had this tremendous gift for description. The casual conversation relaxed her so that ·she was emboldened to ask:

  'Why did you decide to write a novel?'

  Jonas lit a cheroot, exhaling the aromatic smoke into the air around them. 'I wanted to try something new,' he replied slowly. 'I was sick of living in foreign countries. I wanted to come back to England.'

  Julie didn't ask the most obvious question, avoiding the pitfalls that would open up. 'And do you intend to write another? Novel, I mean.'

  Jonas considered the coffee in his cup. 'Oh, yes, I'll write another. I already have it mapped out.'

  'How exciting!' Julie wasn't feigning her enthusiasm. 'What is it to be about?'

  'It's another - what you would call - political thriller. It's set in a Central American republic. Something I have first-hand knowledge about.'

  Julie put down her cup and rested her chin on her hands. 'You always wanted to write fiction, didn't you?'

  'Umm, of a kind. My fiction tends to be closely allied to fact.'

  'Do you remember when you wrote that terribly torrid espionage story with a sort of James Bond type hero?' She chuckled. 'I said at the time you should have sent it to a publisher. They'd have loved it. It had everything - sex, violence, a good story line. But you didn't want to ruin your reputation as a serious journalist!'

  Jonas's eyes held hers. 'I only did it because you asked me to,' he said quietly.

  Julie dragged her face away from his. 'Do you - do you

  still have the manuscript?'

  'Yes.' He paused. 'Do you want to see it?'

  Julie's breathing was suddenly constricted. 'I - no! I don't think so.'

  He inclined his head and with a shrug finished his coffee. 'Shall we go?'

  It seemed cooler when they emerged from the cafe and Julie shivered, drawing her coat closer about her. The sun was now hidden by a heavy belt of clouds and the freshness of the morning was disappearing beneath a thickening pall of mist. Jonas looked up at the sky and frowned.

  'I think we'd better get back to the castle as quickly as possible,' he essayed thoughtfully. 'I shouldn't like you to have to drive these roads without being able to see any more than a few yards ahead of you.'

  It was really thick by the time they reached the jetty. Julie garaged the car and Jonas locked the garage. Then they both climbed into the boat.

  'Let me pull the motor,' she suggested anxiously, noticing that for all he had dismissed his injuries as being of little account, there were definite lines of strain beside his mouth.

  Jonas shook his head. 'I can do it. As you said earlier, I'm not completely helpless.'

  Julie was glad when they reached the island for more reasons than one. The dampness was more chilling than rain and as they mounted the steps to the castle she drew the hood of her coat over her head. They entered the building through the tower entrance they had used two days before, but Mrs. Macpherson must have seen them coming because she met them in the hall. She looked at Jonas with evident concern, her gaze barely flickering over Julie before she exclaimed: 'You look worn out, Mr.

  Hunter. Did you not see Doctor MacTavish?'

  'Oh yes, I saw him,' replied Jonas, removing his leather coat with some difficulty so that the housekeeper clicked her tongue and hurried forward to assist him. 'He's given me some antibiotics in case of infection, but he said that Rob had made an excellent job of cleaning me up.'

  Julie glanced quickly at him. Wasn't he going to mention the stitches the doctor had put in his palm?

  Mrs. Macpherson folded his coat over her arm. 'Well, you go into the living-room, sir, and get warm. I'll bring along some coffee in five minutes.'

  'No - really, no, thank you, Mrs. Macpherson.' Jonas shook his head. 'We - er - we had coffee in Newton Cam.'

  'Where? At the doctor's?'

  'No. At a cafe,' put in Julie, becoming impatient at her obvious exclusion from the conversation. 'It was very nice.'

  Mrs. Macpherson looked disapproving. 'You went to Annie Macdonald's?' she exclaimed.

  'If that was her name, yes—'

  'Mrs. Hunter was thirsty,' commented Jonas, with a sigh. 'How long will lunch be?'

  The housekeeper's features were stiff. 'Whenever you say. Fifteen minutes - half an hour.'

  'Fifteen minutes will be fine,' agreed Jonas, and turned to Julie as she was struggling out of her coat. But she moved away so that he could not help her and dropped the coat carelessly on to a carved chair that stood against the wall. Then she preceded him into the living-room, leaving Mrs. Macpherson to go and attend to the meal.

  'What was that all about?' Julie demanded as soon as the door was closed.

  Jonas went to help himself to a drink. 'Feuds, vend-

  ettas. Who knows?' He swallowed some Scotch and half turned. 'No, actually, Annie Dalrymple, as she was called before her marriage, used to be Rob's sweetheart. Then she married Hugh Macdonald and Rob married Ellen.' 'Ellen - Ellen MacPherson, I suppose you mean?'

  'Ellen Stuart as she was then.'

  Julie shook her head. 'She certainly thinks a lot about you.'

  Jonas turned away to finish pouring more Scotch. 'Jealous?'

  Julie ignored this. 'Should you be drinking so much when you're taking drugs?'

  'I'm taking antibiotics,' he corrected her dryly. 'Antibiotics are drugs!'

  'Technically I suppose they are. But they're not narcotics, which is what I believe you're talking about.' He raised his glass. 'Do you want a drink?'

  'No.' She moved her shoulders irritably. "You have to be right, don't you? Anyway, you are drinking too much. It's only half past twelve!'

  'Am I to answer to you for my actions?' he queried tautly.

  'No. No, of course not. I'm only thinking of your well- being.' She moved restlessly about the room. 'As Mrs. Macpherson said, you look worn out. Why don't you rest?'

  'I thought you wanted an interview. If I go to bed, I may sleep for the rest of the day.'

  Julie stared at him. 'I don't believe you did sleep well last night, did you? Why did you say you had?'

  Jonas flung himself into one of the comfortable armchairs. 'Julie, why don't you mind your own business, hmm?'

  Julie folded her arms across her body, pressing her

  palms to her elbows. 'I'm not a machine, Jonas. If you're tired, you should rest.' She looked at his bandaged hand lying on the arm of the chair. 'Does it hurt much? Your hand, I mean?'

  He closed his eyes resignedly. 'Julie, it was my own fault. Stop feeling so guilty. You have nothing to reproach yourself with.'

  Julie stared down at him frustratedly. 'I know I haven't!' she burst out impatiently. 'But if I hadn't come here ...' She turned away. 'Oh, I'm going up to my room. I -1 need to use the bathroom.'

  When she came downstairs again, Mrs. Macpherson was waiting for her in the hall. The door to the living- room was closed and the housekeeper raised a silencing finger to her lips.

  'Mr. Hunter is asleep,' she whispered. 'Come along to the dining-room. I'll serve your lunch and keep Mr. Hunter's hot for later.'

  Julie complied, looking back rather regre
tfully at the closed door. She would have liked to have seen Jonas asleep ... and vulnerable.

  CHAPTER SIX

  AFTER another of Mrs. Macpherson's satisfying meals, Julie left the dining-room and walked back to the tower hallway. The door to the living-room was still closed and she pressed her ear against the panels, hoping to hear some sound from within. But either Jonas was still sleeping or the panels were too thick, because she couldn't hear anything at all.

  Sighing, she turned away. If he had slept badly the night before, she ought not to wake him. He was bound to be tired after the amount of blood he had lost, and she ought to be glad he was recovering his strength. All the A same, the time left to her to talk to him - to really talk to him, that was - was dwindling.

  She went up the stairs to the gallery. Through the narrow windows there was little to be seen. The mist had thickened and shrouded the edges of the loch, isolating them in a world of grey dampness and swirling cloud. She shivered. She was glad she was not having to venture out in that again today.

  She looked up the stairs that disappeared to some unknown region above her head. She was curious to know where they led, and feeling strangely loath to spend a lonely hour in her room, she began to climb. She did not have to go far before she encountered a stout wooden door, locked and bolted against her. The keys were in the lock, however, and the bolt creaked but moved without too much difficulty. Feeling an intense sense of anticipation, she pushed the door forward and then gasped as the cold air from outside the castle swept in on her.

  She was on the battlements, she realized belatedly, grasping the stone parapet to steady herself. Although the wind was not strong yet it was cold, having brought the mist down from the icy reaches of the mountains and it caught her breath. She pressed a protective hand to her throat. She could imagine how delightful it must be up here in the height of summer, but there was little pleasure there on this chill October afternoon. All that was visible were the turreted outcrops of the parapet, and even they looked unreal looming out of the smoky gloom. She was more than willing to step inside again and close the heavy door against the elements.