At last, after midnight, the dance came to an end, and Nicola fetched her mohair stole, thankful she had brought it, for the evening had become chilly. Paul's Volvo was some distance away at the end of a narrow car park, and as the surface was pitted with holes he made it an excuse to take her arm and hold her tightly to prevent her from stumbling. Then they began the drive through the dark, ghostly forest.
*
Paul had fallen silent and Nicola was engrossed in her own gloomy thoughts. She looked up when the car stopped and saw an impenetrable barrier of trees in front of her which disappeared as Paul switched off the headlights. As she turned to him he slid his arm behind her and, releasing the safety belts, tried to pull her to him.
'No, Paul!' she protested. 'Please will you take me home!'
'Oh, come on, Nicola, be friendly! What's the matter with you? You didn't object when I kissed you before.'
'Because I was surprised, I had no opportunity to object then, but I do, and I want to go home!'
He tried to silence her by kissing her, but she twisted her head away and tried to push him off. It merely stimulated him and by getting one hand behind her head and grasping a handful of hair he forced her to turn her face towards him. She winced with pain as he pulled her hair, and disgust as his wet lips pressed against hers.
Suddenly she relaxed and appeared to accept his kiss, and as he let go of her hair she reached down and slipped off one of her shoes, bringing it up and cracking him over the head with the heel of it.
It was a puny weapon but it startled him sufficiently to make him release her, and she opened the car door and jumped out before he realised what was happening.
'Nicola, come back! You'll get hurt,' he called but she paid no attention. In the faint moonlight she could see thick clumps of bracken and gorse to one side and in front of the car, and trees on the other. Behind the car was the road they had left, and a short distance along it the lights of a traffic island.
Slipping off her other shoe and carrying them both, Nicola sped along the grassy verge of the roadside, praying she would not stumble over some hidden obstacle. To her relief the road they were on was unfenced and the ponies had cropped the grass close. As she neared the cattle grid she heard Paul's footsteps racing along behind.
'Nicola!' he was shouting. 'Come back, don't be stupid!'
Balancing precariously on the narrow rails Nicola crossed the cattle grid and on the far side found a wide verge with the fence of that road set well back behind thick clumps of bushes which would give her some cover. She dived amongst them, thankful for their thick foliage, and found a place where she could crouch, her black stole helping to conceal her where she lay in a ditch beside the fence.
Paul crashed about searching for a while, calling for her, and swearing when he encountered the prickly holly bushes. Then she heard his footsteps echoing hollowly on the road, going away from her.
'Nicola, I'm going home. If you want to be silly you can find your own way back,' he called.
For a moment she felt panic. She had been so intent on getting away from him she had given no thought to how she would get home, but she swiftly decided she would prefer to spend the entire night in the Forest than submit to Paul's loathsome kisses again.
He hesitated, and then she heard him swearing angrily. She remained where she was until she heard the car being driven away, only then feeling safe enough to emerge from her refuge.
To her relief there were signposts at the crossroads pointing to Brockenhurst, for Nicola did not have the slightest notion where she was. If she had brought her mobile she could have told a taxi where to pick her up, but it did not fit in her small evening bag. She set off walking without shoes on a grass verge where possible, but having to put them on and manage the best she could despite their high heels and totally unsuitable thin soles over the rougher ground.
Once she trod on a thorn and had to sit down until she had managed to draw it out of her heel. Twice she fell, for under the dense trees along parts of the road there was no help from the moon and she stumbled into shallow drainage channels. Several times she came unexpectedly upon ponies and cattle, but they ignored her or moved quietly out of reach, and after the first shock of having a large animal loom silently up out of the darkness in front of her Nicola stopped worrying about them.
She was more concerned about the occasional car, fearing it could be Paul cruising the roads looking for her, and whenever she heard the purr of an engine she promptly hid, thankful that there were plenty of trees and clumps of gorse to add to the shelter given by her dark stole until the lights had swept by.
At length she reached Brockenhurst and plodded wearily along Brookley Road. A public call box tempted her to phone Robert, but a glance at her watch informed her that it was after three and even if he had returned from the party he would not appreciate being called out again at that time of the night. There was also the reluctance of having to confess to him why she was in such an embarrassing predicament after he had warned her about Paul. Then it occurred to her that if he knew she was still out he would think the worst of her. She shrugged. It could not be helped and his good opinion hardly mattered. Soon she would no longer see him again and he would forget her, although she knew that she would never forget him.
Growing excessively weary she crossed the railway line, up the hill and over Setley Common, along Sandy Down and down the steeper hill to the tiny hamlet of Boldre. She had to sit and rest more frequently, easing her sore feet, and sat on the banks of the river in Boldre to bathe her feet. Then she struggled painfully up the next hill. The final miles went by in a blur as Nicola staggered along the deserted lanes. It was instinct that sent her into the hedge when, just before the private road leading to The Lodge, she heard the sound of a car coming towards her. Resting where she had fallen she heard a second and then a third car coming. Then there was silence again apart from the screech of an owl and she dragged herself up, hearing her dress tear where she had caught it on a fallen branch.
The gates of The Lodge were open but Nicola was too exhausted to wonder at this or associate it with the cars which had so recently passed her. All she thought was that Robert might not be back or had not bothered to shut the gates.
She walked slowly up the drive, her shoes scuffed and one of the straps broken. Her feet ached more than ever before, for she had been forced to wear the unsuitable shoes for the past two miles along the lanes. As she came in sight of the house she paused, for outside the front door was a red two-seater Mercedes, Jane's car, Nicola thought numbly. Jane was here.
It was already dawn but there were several lights on inside the house. The front door was open and it was only then Nicola realised that in her haste to escape from Paul she had left her evening bag with her key in his car.
Totally incapable of thinking clearly or of moving at more than a slow, painful walk, she crossed to the door and pushed it open. There was no noise in the house and Nicola passed slowly through the hall. Her shoes slipped on the polished floor and she bent to take them off. Barefoot, her tights in shreds and hanging about her ankles, her dress and stole torn and filthy, the hem of the dress wet, both covered in burrs and mud and leaves, and with grass in her hair and a mud-streaked face, she crept down the stairs, thankful for the thick soft carpet, and gained the lower hall. As she crossed to the door of her room Robert's door opened and Nicola looked up. Smiling at her in astonishment, and something else which was a mixture of triumph and smugness, was Jane Prendergast, with Robert behind her.
*
Chapter 9
'Where the devil have you been till this time?' Robert demanded, moving past Jane and striding towards Nicola. She glared at him, accepting this clear evidence he and Jane were on the most intimate of terms. Robert, she noted dully, was wearing fawn cord trousers and a matching polo-necked silk sweater, a colour that emphasised his dark good looks. Jane clutched a short green and white striped towelling bath robe about her, and Nicola could see her bare legs.
'Darling, what a tactless question,' Jane chided him, a gleam of laughter in her eyes.
'I'm responsible for you,' Robert said at the same time.
'I'm of age and it's nothing to do with you,' Nicola responded, and afraid that at any moment she would shame herself by bursting into tears she tried to push past him and get to the door of her own room.
He held her by the shoulders firmly but gently.
'Who did this to you?' he said in a calmer voice. She shook her head.
'I had to walk home, that's all. Now please let me go and sleep, I'm so tired.'
'Jane, go and get dressed,' he snapped, opening Nicola's door, and he led Nicola in. 'Can you manage?' he asked her. 'Would you like Jane to come and help you?'
Nicola shuddered, and he felt it as he still held her arm. For a moment his grip tightened, and then he made her sit on a chair, brushing aside her protests that she was too filthy.
'That's the least important thing. I'll run you a bath, and are you sure you can manage?' She nodded. 'OK. I'll get some coffee for you while you're in it.'
She sat limply, and within a few minutes he came out of her bathroom saying she ought not to have too much water in case she fell asleep. Nicola roused herself sufficiently to reassure him she would be able to manage, and when he disappeared she stripped off her clothes and let the warm scented water and the foam bubbles he had filled it with soak away the mud and some of the aches and pains. She wrapped herself in a huge towel afterwards, and too weary to bother drying herself properly threw herself down on the bed. Within moments Robert appeared with a tray.
'Drink this first,' he ordered grimly, and clutching the towel around her Nicola sat up and gulped down the brandy, feeling its fire course through her and restore some of her strength.
She began to drink the coffee while Robert stood watching her, a frown on his face.
'It was Paul Moncrieff, wasn't it?' he asked. 'What did he do?'
Nicola wearily shook her head. 'Nothing,' she began, but Robert interrupted furiously.
'Nothing? You come here, clearly at the end of your tether, bruised and filthy, looking as if you've been rolled in gorse bushes and try to say nothing happened? Are you crazy? Or do you want to protect that villain? I told you he was no good!'
'And you always have to be right don't you, Robert Wilmington!' she hurled at him, and tried to stop her hands shaking.
He took the cup and saucer out of her hands.
'Where have you been? Where is Moncrieff?' he asked more quietly, coming to sit on the bed beside her and putting his arm about her.
She shrank away. 'It's none of your business,' she moaned. 'Leave me alone, for pity's sake!' To cry over you, she added silently.
'Nicola, how can I? I must know there is nothing wrong. You've been out with that devil, and you come home in a dreadful state at dawn and try to pretend there is nothing wrong. Do you take me for a fool?'
'It is nothing to do with you,' she repeated. 'I went out to a dinner dance with Paul. We had a row and I walked home, that is all. Now please go, I want to sleep!'
Suddenly she found his arms were about her, strong and comforting, and his lips, gentle at first but then more demanding, were on hers. Summoning up all her willpower she tried not to respond, not to allow herself to drown in the safety of his arms, and sat stiffly, thinking in bewilderment that even with Jane in the house he seemed to enjoy taunting her with kisses. Then she gathered her strength and tried to push him away and his arms tightened about her. When he would not release her her tears began to flow, and as he felt them on his own cheek he raised his head.
'Go away, I hate you,' she groaned, but at that moment there was a shout from outside the window, and knocking could be heard on the windows of Robert's room next door.
'Mr Wilmington, sir, quickly, it's me, Tim!'
*
Swiftly Robert got to his feet and strode across to the windows, flinging them open.
'What is it?' he demanded. 'Tim, what has happened?'
'The stables. Someone broke in last night, and Night Demon has been doped!'
'Doped? Is he dead?'
'No, but it's as though he's drunk.'
'Any of the others?'
'He's the only one. Someone knew what to do, what they were after, all right!'
'Go straight back. I'll come as soon as I've phoned the vet and the police.'
Tim disappeared and Robert turned back into the room. Nicola, appalled, had drawn the towel about herself more securely and was looking at him in horror.
'I'll phone,' she offered, her own misery and tiredness forgotten in this calamity.
He smiled swiftly at her. 'The vet's numbers are in a book in my room. I'll show you and leave you to it, may I? He may need to be contacted at one of the farms, if so use his mobile.'
He led the way swiftly through to his own room and Nicola followed. By the time she reached the phone he had taken a small address book out of a drawer and was flipping over the pages. He pointed to the number and smiled encouragingly.
'Thank you. When you've got in touch with the vet and the police go to sleep. Tell them to come straight to the stables, they'll know.'
She nodded and he went out through the window, and as she pressed the buttons she could hear his footsteps as he ran along the patio until he came to the grass and could be heard no more.
To her relief the vet answered at once and Nicola told him what had happened. He assured her he would be there within twenty minutes and then she rang the police station. While she waited to give details to the desk sergeant she noted absent-mindedly that the bed was smooth and apparently unruffled. But duvets made it simple to straighten a bed, she told herself, twisting the knife in the wound. Nothing could alter the fact that Jane, wearing a bath robe and apparently little else, had been in Robert's bedroom at dawn, even if all trace of her had vanished now. Then as she finished her telephone call and replaced the receiver she realised the photograph of the girl had disappeared. Taken away or hidden while he entertained Jane, she thought cynically, and the tears began to flow again.
Too weary to think any longer about the disaster that had struck Night Demon and Robert's hopes for the Novice Cup, she dragged herself to her own room and fell into bed, not bothering with a nightdress. Before they had been interrupted Robert had been furiously angry. He had almost accused her of being a trollop and did not believe she had not encouraged Paul Moncrieff in his despicable behaviour.
It was her last waking thought and the sun was high in the sky before she awoke again. She lay for a while wondering why she felt so miserable and then recalled the events of the previous night. Hastily she sat up and looked at her watch. She had slept for over eight hours and it was mid-afternoon. She looked at the ruined dress which lay unheeded in the middle of the floor. It was as well it was past repair for she would never want to wear it again. She ached all over but forced herself to dress in a flowered, tiered cotton skirt and plain top, and then went to find Mrs Trotter.
'Do you feel better now, my dear?' the woman asked kindly. 'Here, I'll fry you some breakfast. Two eggs?'
Nicola nodded, already drinking a steaming cup of coffee. She was ravenous.
'Thank you, yes please. What has happened about the horse? Is he all right?'
'Well, I don't rightly know. I feel I ought to, living in the Forest all my life, but there, I don't. He's not dead in any case, but very sick. And weak. Mr Wilmington has been with him all day since it was discovered. Seems like the horse is calmer when he's there. Even had his meals sent down. He said if you felt up to it could you go and visit Miss Sarah for him tonight? He knows she will understand and forgive him for not going.'
'Of course I will. I'll take her some more flowers.'
Nicola went to the stables but did not wish to disturb Robert. Jenkins told her someone had cut the alarm wiring and got into the loose boxes duri
ng the night. The condition of Night Demon had been discovered when the stable lads had begun work that morning.
'Could it be one of his rivals for the Cup?'
'It might be, but the police won't say anything, and Mr Wilmington isn't interested in anything but getting him better.'
'He will recover?'
'Oh, yes, it was discovered in time and the vet gave him some sort of injection, an antidote.'
'But he won't be ready for Friday presumably?'
Jenkins shrugged. 'I'd not expect it, but horses are strange creatures. And that one's behaving like a baby, almost cries if Mr Wilmington leaves him.'
*
Nicola, relieved that at least Night Demon would recover, went to choose some flowers for Sarah. The gardens were extensive and she enjoyed wandering round the orchard, where the trees were becoming heavy with fruit, and the walled kitchen garden with its neat beds of vegetables and borders of herbs.
Mrs Frayn's hobby was gardening and she had a superb show of flowers, but for the first time Nicola realised there were, most unusually, no roses, not even climbing ones on the house, which had every other sort of climbing plant, or over the trellis which hid the changing huts. Possibly they didn't grow well so close to the sea with the salt air, she thought, and picked a huge bunch of carnations instead.
It was soon time to go and she fetched the Fiat and drove to the hospital. Sarah was still sulking about Robert's edict to the hospital regarding Tony's visit and merely remarked it served him right to have his hopes of the Cup ruined, although she had the grace to admit she did not wish to see Night Demon hurt.
'I expect it is someone Robert has offended at some time,' she suggested. 'He is always doing it, as you have seen.'
Nicola, until then certain it must have been a rival for the Cup, began to think along new lines. Might there be some truth in what Sarah suggested? And if so might Tony be suspected? He had been wild with rage the previous day and he knew a great deal about horses. No doubt he could move amongst them without disturbing them and raising the alarm.
Fires in the Forest Page 12
