In a somewhat defiant mood Sarah confronted Robert that evening with the news she had met Tony.
'I have forbidden you to meet him. How did this come about?' he asked, grim-faced.
'By accident, we were out riding,' Sarah said calmly. 'Nicola liked him, didn't you?'
'I thought him ordinary and pleasant enough,' Nicola replied, astonished, for Sarah had been careful not to refer to the meeting once they had parted from Tony.
'It must not happen again. Miss Browne, I rely on you to make certain of that.'
'Oh, Robert, you are positively prehistoric,' Sarah exclaimed. 'What harm can it do, for heaven's sake, if I see Tony? And you must not blame Nicola, she had nothing to do with it and hurried me away as soon as it was polite to.'
'You must permit me to be a judge of the possible harm,' he snapped. 'As for Miss Browne, if she cannot prevent more such meetings then you will be forbidden to ride alone in future, and allowed out only when I am free to ride with you.'
'Robert is right, my dear,' Mrs Frayn said anxiously. 'Would you like to arrange a party for some of your friends here?'
'Not unless I can invite Tony,' Sarah replied, and her mother sighed and looked helplessly at Robert.
He shrugged. 'Then be silly,' he told his sister.
Sulking, Sarah went to bed early and Robert disappeared into his study.
*
On the following day Sarah was still morose and declined to go into Lymington, saying she had a headache. Robert was out for dinner that night and immediately after they had finished Sarah went to her room. Mrs Frayn, apologising for her and sighing, asked Nicola sympathetic questions about her parents and her life at University.
When she went to bed Nicola, understanding how hurt the gentle Mrs Frayn was by Sarah's defiance, decided to try and talk with the younger girl. She knocked gently on Sarah's door but there was no reply. She opened the door slightly but there was no sound within the room, and the very stillness suddenly alerted Nicola. She went right in and felt her way across to the bed. There was no sound but in the faint moonlight which filtered through a gap in the curtains Nicola could see a lump in the bed.
She snapped on the bedside light. The bed was stuffed with pillows and a dark wig rested at the top of the bed with the duvet half covering it. Sarah had vanished.
Had she crept out to meet Tony? Knowing Robert was to be out that night had she arranged a clandestine meeting? Nicola was surprised to think the pleasant young man she had met would be a party to such an arrangement, but she had to remind herself that there had been other occasions, from all she had heard, when the two had met secretly.
Nicola fetched a warm sweater to put over her sleeveless dress, for the night was cool, and slipped out through the french windows. She went first to the shore, thinking they might have walked along the beach, but there was no one there. Nor was there anyone in the changing rooms by the pool and tennis court. Nicola started to cross the lawns towards the drive knowing that if Sarah was in the shrubbery or orchard, both of which were extensive, she had little hope of finding her. She had just reached the edge of the trees when she heard the muted roar of the Mercedes' engine, and before she could scramble into the shelter of the bushes at the side of the drive the beam of the headlights had caught her.
Robert slammed on the brakes and leapt out of the car.
'What are you doing out here?' he demanded, striding across to her and taking her by the arms in a rough grip.
A faint trace of the Joy perfume Jane wore clung to his evening jacket, and Nicola found herself wondering where they had spent the evening together.
'I – I was taking a walk, that's all,' she stammered and grasped when he shook her impatiently.
'At nearly midnight? Don't expect me to believe that! Is it Sarah? Has she crept out of the house? Oh, my God, why can't you stop her? I really thought that she respected you and would heed what you said. But you have probably been sympathising with her and encouraging her in these nonsensical notions.'
Nicola was furiously angry and wrenched herself free of his grasp.
'How dare you,' she gasped. 'I am no gaoler, although Sarah herself calls me that. I was hired to speak French with your sister, and I believe you can be satisfied with her progress in that. I was not hired to keep a twenty-four hour watch over her every move. She is a normal high-spirited girl, and is behaving as I would expect any girl to behave when faced with such unreasonableness as yours. I have not encouraged her but I cannot see why she should not be permitted to meet Mr Scott freely. He seems a pleasant enough, harmless young man, and if she were not made to feel like the heroine of a melodrama she might soon grow tired of him.'
His hand caught her arm again. 'So you think me unreasonable? You cannot know all the facts so please do not judge others without that knowledge. Everything is not so simple as you appear to think.'
Nicola tried to tear herself away from him but this time he held her more firmly and her struggles seemed to inflame his anger for he pulled her to him. Shuddering at his nearness, his overpowering strength, and the emotions these roused in her, Nicola suddenly went limp, and after a second, with an angry exclamation he thrust her from him and turned back to the car.
'Go back in Miss Browne, and do not alarm my mother if you please. I will find the wretched child.'
He strode back to the car and got back in and Nicola watched him drive away to the garages. Forcing her weak knees to obey her she slowly crossed the lawns again, and going round the side of the house and down to the lower level slipped back into her room. She sank down onto the bed, shaking with a mixture of anger, fear for Sarah, and something else she could not name which had overcome her when Robert had held her so closely. It was some time before she could bring herself to undress and climb into bed. Hours later she heard a door close softly and assumed Sarah had returned, either of her own accord or with her angry, arrogant, unreasonable and detestable brother.
*
On the following morning Sarah appeared pale and subdued, but with a flickering defiance as she responded briefly and curtly to Robert. He eyed her grimly and breakfast was decidedly uncomfortable. The weather had changed to a dull drizzle and Sarah listlessly agreed to read some French classics Nicola had come across in the library.
This was a pleasant, airy room next to the drawing room, also opening onto the terrace. A wide stone fireplace, large enough to burn sizeable logs, was flanked with bookshelves crammed with books that appeared to be read, unlike some of the meticulous, carefully arranged libraries Nicola had seen in some expensive houses, where sets of identically bound books appeared to be part of the decorations rather than treasured possessions.
Above the bookshelves, which went all round the room, were paintings of the New Forest and Sarah explained they were mostly by local artists. Some, Nicola could see, were very good indeed, particularly those showing the birds and animals native to the area.
Nicola had discovered two French copies of Molière's plays and she and Sarah settled into the huge, comfortable leather armchairs and read aloud. Soon Sarah had become interested in the follies of the Would-Be Gentleman and was reading her parts with considerable verve, only occasionally stopping to ask Nicola to explain the meanings of certain words. They were laughing over Monsieur Jourdain's efforts to follow the fencing master's instructions when Mrs Frayn came into the room looking harassed, followed by Mrs Trotter carrying a tray of coffee.
'Tell Robert we're in here, will you, Trottie? Sarah dear, I need to talk to you. I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Browne, but this will affect you too.'
She started to pour the coffee, then hesitated, with her hand trembling, as Robert, who had been in his study, came quickly in.
'What is it?' he asked, and took the coffee pot from her. Sarah brought the cup he had filled across to Nicola.
'I've just had a phone call from Penzance. Emma has had her baby over a month early and she's quite ill. I'll have to go down there.'
'Oh, poor Emma! Is s
he very ill? What about the baby?' Sarah exclaimed.
'The baby – it's a boy – is very tiny but the hospital thinks he will be OK. Emma haemorrhaged badly and must stay in hospital for some time. But there's no one to look after little Mandy. The friend who was going to stay at Emma's is away on holiday until the middle of August.'
'Bring Mandy here,' Robert suggested abruptly. 'There's no need for you to stay down there. It's too much for you.'
'Oh, but there is, Robert. I must go, and I shall cope, don't worry. The child is only sixteen months old. She won't remember me, for it's six months since I was there, but her mother has suddenly disappeared. She needs something she's familiar with, if only her home. The neighbour who has been looking after her now says she hasn't stopped crying since Emma was taken to hospital yesterday afternoon. Will you drive me down there at once? I don't like driving all that way in the Fiat and I can use Emma's car while I'm down there, and bring them all back in it when she's out of hospital. The Fiat wouldn't be big enough.'
Robert was frowning but he nodded quickly and Mrs Frayn turned to Nicola.
'I'm sorry to have to leave you like this, but Robert will be away for only one night.'
'Can't I come with you?' Sarah demanded, but her mother shook her head.
'No, my dear. Remember how tiny Emma's cottage is, there are only two bedrooms. I don't expect I'll be gone for long. She'll be out of hospital soon with the little boy. A grandson! I've hardly taken it in yet. I must go and pack.'
She left her half-full cup of coffee and rose, looking anxiously at Robert as she crossed to the door.
'She may not want to come back here,' Robert said warningly.
'Oh, I'm sure I can persuade her, if only for a holiday! I'll be ready to leave in about half an hour if that's convenient. We can lunch on the way.'
*
She went out and Robert finished his coffee quickly.
'I must make a couple of phone calls. Sarah, please will you go to the stables and ask Jenkins to come up here at once to see me. Miss Browne,' he said abruptly, and waited until Sarah had left the room and closed the door. 'I trust you can keep Sarah out of mischief while I'm away. I shall take the opportunity to call on a fellow breeder in Exeter so I may not be back until late tomorrow evening. Don't let her do anything foolish.'
Left alone Nicola tried to piece together what she had heard, and when Sarah returned, her hair wet from the walk to the stables, she listened with interest as the girl explained.
'Emma is my sister but we almost never mention her. You see, she ran away from school to marry this artist three years ago when she was only sixteen. That is why Robert is so afraid I shall do the same. But the man left her six months ago just after she found she was pregnant again. He went off with someone else I think, though Emma hasn't said much in her letters to me and Mother doesn't talk of it. Robert gives her an allowance. It's all she has because she won't get any of Father's money until she is twenty-one. Her husband hasn't provided her with a penny since he left and I think it was only the money Mother sent which helped them to manage before. It's the only time I've known Mother and Robert have a row, when he wouldn't let Emma come here and Mother wanted to ask her after Keith left. Fortunately for them Emma wouldn't come anyway. I wonder if she will now? I've never even seen her baby daughter.'
Listening, Nicola thought that this explained a great deal of Robert's attitude towards Sarah. One eloping schoolgirl sister ensnared by a penniless artist would be enough for any family, and no wonder he was over-cautious where Tony Scott was concerned. Then the thought occurred to her that Emma might have been driven to rebel if he had treated her as harshly as he did Sarah.
After lunch the rain stopped, the clouds rolled away, and a hot sun made the Forest steam. Tempted out to ride, Nicola breathed in the damp smell of peaty earth, the tang of heather, and the stronger salty smell of the seaweed as they rode back along the beach.
Sarah was looking pale when they got back and after tea complained that she was feeling sick. As she had eaten a large quantity of scones piled high with strawberry jam and cream at teatime Nicola suggested she went early to bed and skipped dinner. Sarah wanly agreed and Nicola, telling Mrs Trotter she would make herself an omelette when she was hungry, sent her back to her own cottage earlier than normal. She browsed through the books in the library and was enchanted to find a copy of Children of the New Forest. Settling down comfortably she read avidly and was surprised on looking up at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece to find that it was nine o'clock.
She slipped into Sarah's room to see if she wanted anything but Sarah was asleep, the duvet having fallen to the floor. Nicola covered her up again and went to make herself an omelette which she ate in the kitchen, admiring the pine cupboards and plentiful modern equipment.
She washed up the omelette pan and the few things she had used and went to bed, reading more of the book until, sleepy at last, she snuggled down and turned off the light.
*
It was two o'clock when she woke suddenly. Someone was crying. Sitting up Nicola tried to clear her muddled thoughts and realised the sound was coming from Sarah's bathroom, which together with hers separated their two bedrooms. Quickly she pulled on her robe and ran through Sarah's room where the bed was empty and into her bathroom.
Sarah was crumpled in a heap on the floor and a glass of water had been dropped into the bath, shattering into many fragments.
'Sarah my dear, what is it?' Nicola asked, aghast at the grey face Sarah turned towards her.
'A dreadful pain, in my side!' Sarah gasped, and groaned, the beads of perspiration standing out on her forehead.
'Can you get back to bed?' Nicola asked, feeling her brow and finding Sarah was feverishly hot.
Sarah tried to stand up but cried out in agony, and it was only with great difficulty Nicola managed to get her back into the bedroom. She looked worriedly at her as Sarah slumped in the bed, her knees drawn up to ease the pain. Telephoning for a doctor might take hours and Nicola thought Sarah needed more immediate help than could be given after a doctor had had to drive several miles across the Forest before he could reach them.
She remembered there was a telephone extension in Robert's room, for Sarah had once used it when she had telephoned a schoolfriend, saying she did not want anyone to overhear her in the hall. Telling Sarah she would not be away long she sped across the landing and into his room. Switching on the light she spared a moment to admire the cream and brown decor, and the dark red chairs and curtains, while she looked about her for the telephone.
It was a cream set on a small table beside the bed and Nicola seized it and pushed 999. An immediate answer came and while she gave the necessary information and asked for an ambulance, her eyes roved over the elaborate system of buttons on the headboard controlling the hi-fi equipment on the far side of the room. A bottle of Blackwatch aftershave by Prince Matchebelli was on the table on the far side of the bed, and there was a lingering aroma of heather in the room.
The receiver crackled and a brisk voice informed her an ambulance was on its way. She thankfully replaced the receiver and as she did so her eye was caught by a small photograph frame next to the telephone. The picture was of a girl, young, blonde and beautiful, with bright blue eyes that laughed out of the photograph. She was wearing jeans and a tight-fitting sweater which set off her extremely shapely figure admirably.
Behind her a pair of horses grazed in the open Forest.
Without thinking Nicola stretched out her hand and picked up the frame. It was an easy matter to slide the photograph out and she turned it over. On the back was a brief inscription, 'To my darling Robert. Always yours, Rose.'
As if she had been stung Nicola dropped the photograph, and then blushed as she realised what she was doing. Hastily, with clumsy fingers, she replaced the picture and put the frame back in its place, then hurried back to see how Sarah was.
'I've sent for an ambulance. Don't worry, they'll soon be here and you'll have
help for whatever it is. Too much cream, I suppose,' she said with an attempt at lightness to disguise her own worry.
Sarah smiled at her wanly.
'Telephone to Trotter to open the gates,' she whispered. 'The number is by the phone in the hall.'
'Of course. I'll put on some lights as well and then come back and pack a bag for you.'
She ran to do this, rapidly pulled on jeans and a sweater, and had just closed a small case containing some things for Sarah when she heard the sound of the ambulance arriving and ran to open the front door.
Two men greeted her calmly and she took them to Sarah's room. After a couple of swift questions they wrapped her up in a blanket and took her up to the waiting ambulance.
'It sounds like appendix,' one said to Nicola. 'Will you come with her? They like someone to sign the operation consent form.'
'Of course,' Nicola said and followed them out to the ambulance with Sarah's case. It seemed an endless ride along the twisting lanes into Lymington and then through the largely built-up fringe of coastal development towards Bournemouth, but they eventually reached the hospital and Sarah was whisked off on a trolley while Nicola was shown into an austere waiting room, where a young Chinese nurse brought her a cup of tea and some magazines which she held unseeingly, staring in front of her as she tried to envisage what was happening to Sarah.
*
Some hours later a tired-looking house surgeon came to tell her that Sarah had been operated on and was doing well.
'Go and get some breakfast and perhaps you can see her in a couple of hours. Go and walk by the sea for a while, you look in need of fresh air,' he added.
Nicola realised then that in her haste she had not picked up her handbag. To her relief she discovered a ten pound note thrust into one pocket of her jeans, and blessed the habit of keeping her money in odd places instead of neatly in a wallet. She was able to swallow a cup of coffee but she could not eat. She followed the doctor's suggestion, feeling the need for fresh sea breezes, and made her way down to the sea where the admired the pine-fringed cliffs. Bournemouth's climate was milder than the rest of England and palms and other semi tropical plants flourished. After a while though, anxious to see Sarah, she went back to the hospital and was permitted to sit beside her for a few minutes.
Fires in the Forest Page 5
