The Tender Flame

by Anne Saunders

  On the principle of what can’t be cured must be endured, Jan buckled down and told a red-eyed, sulky-mouthed Stephanie a made-up story about a foolish little bear who had been very naughty, but who turned out to be a brave little bear who took his punishment on the snout with the courage of a lion.

  One blessing. Jan was relieved of the unpleasant necessity of having to make polite conversation with David by his insistence on making good the damage. He disappeared into the garden to measure up, and then went into town to buy the replacement panes of glass, and was busily employed fitting them into the cold frame.

  The telephone rang and Jan heard Linda say: ‘Oh no, Hugh! Of all the times to be delayed. What’s that? A snag? You think David might be able to help? Yes, he’s here. Hang on a moment.’ Linda turned round and said to Jan: ‘Did you catch that? Hugh wants a word with David. Be a love and give him a shout for me, will you? I might as well talk to Hugh until he comes.’

  Jan couldn’t very well refuse. She found David totally absorbed in his task. He’d cleared away the broken glass and had already fitted one new pane in. She hadn’t visualised him in the role of handyman and was surprised to see he was making quite a competent job of it.

  ‘Hugh is on the phone. He wants to speak to you,’ she said stiffly.

  He didn’t tug his ear; he just looked grim. ‘I’ll come right away.’ He straightened up and wiped his hands on his handkerchief. It wasn’t just grime he transferred, but a spreading circle of blood.

  ‘You’ve hurt yourself!’ she gasped, her heart taking a giant leap into her eyes.

  ‘It’s only a scratch.’

  ‘See you clean it up,’ she said briskly collecting herself, ‘to save the risk of infection.’

  ‘I will. Nice to know you care.’

  ‘Care? I don’t care. I was taken by surprise that’s all. I didn’t think werewolves bled.’

  David turned on his heel without saying a word. With a haughty walk, Jan followed him into the house.

  David could help, and so Hugh safely promised to be with them in time for dinner.

  There was no question of their going before Hugh arrived as the whole point of her stay had been to meet him, but Jan realised they were going to have to keep Stephanie up long past her normal bedtime to make the homeward journey.

  ‘You must stay for dinner,’ Linda said. ‘It seems a bit silly to dash off straight afterwards, so why don’t you make the weekend of it?’

  David made noises of disinclination, which Linda brushed away, and a compromise was arrived at. They would stay the night and travel the short distance home the following day.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ said Linda, but she added with a doubtful smile: ‘The problem is, Hugh and I didn’t intend to eat in. We’ve got a table booked at Danielle’s Den. Danielle really is the name of the proprietress, Jan, and what she doesn’t know about cuisine isn’t worth knowing. Why don’t I phone her and make it a reservation for four?’

  ‘For three,’ Jan said. ‘I’ll stay here with a sandwich on a tray and listen out for Stephanie.’ She was glad of the excuse because she could think of nothing worse than a cosy foursome if David was to be one of the party.

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten Stephanie. There’s a Mrs. Miller who lives two doors away whom I know would be happy to come and sit for her.’

  ‘I honestly don’t mind,’ Jan insisted.

  ‘But I do,’ Linda said, equally insistent. ‘I wouldn’t dream of going out and enjoying myself and leaving you all alone. If you stay, then we all stay. I’ll phone Danielle and cancel.’

  Jan knew that Linda meant well. She thought that a night out in convivial surroundings would lighten the atmosphere between her and David. Jan also knew that kind-hearted Linda wouldn’t enjoy herself if she thought that Jan was left behind to mope. She was over a barrel and she knew it.

  With as much grace as she could muster, she said: ‘All right. If Mrs. Miller will accommodate.’

  David’s quick frown could have meant either, or both, of two things. Her enthusiasm was so markedly lacking that it wouldn’t have fooled anyone, and certainly not someone as astute as Linda. Or, he was equally unenthusiastic and had counted on her to get him out.

  * * *

  Hugh was very much as Jan imagined him to be. Big, genial, vague, lovable. He obviously adored Linda.

  ‘Hello, Jan,’ he said. ‘Thank you for staying and keeping Linda company. It was kind of you.’

  Jan replied with absolute truth: ‘The kindness was Linda’s for having me. She’s given me a fabulous time.’

  He smiled. ‘We’ll have chance to get better acquainted later.’ He tapped his briefcase and sent a sheepish smile in Linda’s direction. ‘I must get the contents of this sewn up while it’s still fresh in my mind. Don’t worry, Linda, I know what time the table is booked for and I promise I won’t make us late. David,’ he said, his voice moving into crisp authority. ‘Have you a minute?’

  * * *

  Jan was ready to face the dreaded evening. Linda had once again offered her professional services, but Jan had declined. The hand that had floated the powder puff from her compressed all-in-one compact and applied a light film of coral lip gloss was her own. She knew it would show that it was her handiwork against Linda’s immaculate make-up, but she didn’t care. It didn’t occur to her that youth has its own dazzle, and that her simple dress would make more elaborately gowned ladies shake their elegant heads in despair and wonder why they’d bothered.

  It had been in Jan’s mind to plunder Hugh’s study and carry the confiscated bear back into Stephanie’s loving arms, but Hugh and David were still in there, thwarting all opportunity.

  When she went in to see Stephanie, she saw to her delight that the little girl was sleeping peacefully, her hair a golden halo on the pillow, one chubby hand crumpled under her cheek.

  She was quietly retreating when the door opened to admit someone on a similar mission. The lemon light falling in at the door pinpointed David.

  ‘She’s asleep,’ she whispered.

  Instead of going straight out again, as she expected, David said: ‘I promise not to wake her,’ and allowed Jan to slide out in front of him.

  * * *

  Two people out of four sending each other dark looks does not make an auspicious start to an evening. In truth, only Jan’s eyes were dark and unfriendly, David’s merely growled back.

  The entrance to Danielle’s Den was down a narrow flight of steps. The atmosphere was decidedly cellar-like; the prices kept it exclusive. In the corner a white, upright piano was being played by a slight, waif-like girl in a clinging white dress. She played tunes which Jan had never heard before and she wasn’t surprised when Linda said they were her own compositions. She supplied her own vocal and her voice, though not strong, was prettily accented and pleasant to hear. Jan had no idea that the girl was Danielle, the proprietress, until much later. In the centre of the room a space had been cleared for dancing. The swift plunge into a Latin American tempo attracted only three couples, but as Danielle’s expert fingers swept into a waltz-time melody, more couples drifted on to the floor.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ David asked Jan.

  ‘No thank you. I’m content to watch and listen.’

  ‘I think you really want to dance, only you’re too shy of getting up and attracting attention.’

  ‘No, it’s . . .’

  But David had risen to his feet and the fingers enclosing her wrist, in the same inescapable hold he had used on Stephanie, forced her to do the same.

  ‘You are dancing,’ he said, his mouth close to her ear. ‘Don’t argue and don’t make a scene.’

  She was boiling, but there was nothing she could do but allow herself to be led forward and drawn into the circle of his arms.

  ‘How dare you!’ she gasped.

  ‘I dare because I happen to be very fond of Linda and Hugh. I couldn’t care less that you choose to spoil your own evening by behaving like an ungrateful, spoil
t brat, but I will not have you ruining theirs. Hugh has been solidly immersed in work, and this is the first proper fun-break they’ve had in weeks. I wouldn’t have stayed on and intruded only Linda insisted that she enjoyed your company, and in any case, I felt obliged to go into town for the glass to replace the damaged panes in the cold frame.’

  ‘You don’t have to go on. You’ve said more than enough. I didn’t think. I also happen to be very fond of Linda. She’s been on tenterhooks all day waiting for Hugh to come home, and I’m horrified at the thought of spoiling their evening.’ She took a deep breath, and earned herself a look of quizzical amusement that dipped into grudging respect, as she trotted out in the manner of a child who has been thoughtless, but not deliberately cruel, ‘Thank you for pulling me up about it. I promise to be good. Incidentally, you made an excellent job of the cold frame. I wasn’t aware you had handyman inclinations.’

  He threw back his head and laughed, and the robust sound attracted quite a few eyes to the tall, good-looking man and his sparkling eyed, bemused-faced partner. ‘I have a number of inclinations that you don’t know about. And I give grateful thanks that you don’t.’

  Because of David’s plain speaking, it turned out to be a good evening. The meal, from the starter which did its job of flattering the tastebuds, to the aromatic coffee and orange scented liqueur, was memorable. And it wasn’t just the taste. The steak Jan ordered was prepared and cooked at the table before her enchanted eyes, and that was an entertainment in itself. And not just for Jan. Her smile curved higher than the leaping flames, giving a new dimension of enjoyment to the more blasé diners around.

  Towards the end of the evening, Danielle moved among the clientele, pausing at each table to ask its occupants if they had enjoyed their meal. She addressed people very correctly as Monsieur, Madame or Mademoiselle, but she called Linda, Hugh and David by name, and seemed to know them quite well. When it was Jan’s turn, the petite French girl called her chérie, as if she appreciated her delight.

  Warm as it was, there was a poignancy about Danielle’s smile that made Jan shiver. She didn’t know how or why, but she sensed a deep unhappiness. It was weird, but for a moment the shadows in the French girl’s eyes put a blight on the evening and made her feel quite cold.

  Soon after that they returned to Linda and Hugh’s to dismiss a sleepy Mrs. Miller who said she hadn’t heard a peep out of Stephanie.

  Upstairs in her room, Jan undressed and got into bed, but not with the intention of going to sleep. She lay in the darkened room waiting for the house to settle down for the night. Hugh’s heavier tread was the last to sound on the carpet outside her door. She waited for the click of his bedroom door before going into action.

  She slipped into her dressing gown and made her careful way down the stairs to Hugh’s study. She could withstand David’s fury in the morning, but not the thought of Stephanie waking up, looking for Tatty Bear, and not finding him. Tatty Bear would be there, because she was going to fetch him from the study and tuck him in bed with Stephanie, so that she would see him the moment she opened her eyes.

  She reached the study without mishap. She opened the door, and stopped. From under a pool of lamplight, David brought his dark head up from the paper he was reading.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she gasped.

  ‘Going over something that Hugh said he would like my opinion about. More to the point, what are you doing here? As if I didn’t know!’

  ‘If you know, why do you ask?’ For once, her voice failed to reach the haughty note it achieved every time she found herself in a disadvantageous situation.

  ‘You can come in, you know. I don’t bite.’ The shadow of a twinkle occupied the corner of his eye. ‘I leave the biting to the bears, they do it so much better. The shaggy haired, carnivorous species that is, not the toy variety.’

  ‘Where is he?’ said Jan, trying to crush the smile bent on tugging up the corners of her mouth.

  ‘Where is who?’

  There was a plausible pause while Jan considered what may be behind his poker face. It savoured of something, but she wasn’t experienced enough in the game of life to tell what.

  She sighed, just a little wearily. ‘Tatty Bear. Please may I have him to take up to Stephanie’s room to tuck into bed with her so that she will see him first thing in the morning.’

  ‘I cannot possibly concede to your request.’

  With a nothing-to-lose desperation she let fly at him, with her fists beating against his chest, and an abuse of angry words to rattle his ears. ‘You are the meanest, most impossible, most inhuman beast of a man I’ve ever met.’

  He returned with hateful calm, and if the nonchalance was overdone she didn’t notice, ‘Everyone is entitled to their opinion. If you’ll let me finish, the reason I can’t hand that ridiculous toy bear over to you is because it isn’t here.’

  ‘Then . . . where is it?’ But suddenly she knew the answer to that. Tatty Bear was in the very place she wanted him to be, and that was in Stephanie’s bed. Moreover, she knew that David had put him there. And although she hadn’t seen anything, she had caught him doing it.

  The picture of him, as she had viewed him earlier in the evening when he’d come into Stephanie’s bedroom just as she was leaving it, flashed vividly to mind. His awkward, hand-behind-his-back stance had been to accommodate Stephanie’s beloved toy bear, and his mission had been to sneak it under the covers for Stephanie to find.

  Jan hadn’t thought it possible, but his voice went a crack icier. But that wasn’t anywhere near as hard to bear as the sadness deepening in his eyes, and the hurt crinkling up his forehead as his words of reason flooded into her senses.

  ‘If you’d used your head on thoughts instead of for blowing off steam, it would have occurred to you that I wouldn’t dream of going out and leaving Stephanie without first returning her toy to her. Mrs. Miller might beat you hands down at child care, but she isn’t you. This house may be far superior to the cottage, but it isn’t home. Credit me with enough sense to know that a favourite toy compensates for a lot in a strange house.’

  Later, Jan’s better nature would take over, but just at that moment, as she cringed at the sadness of his gaze, it was superfluous consolation to know that Stephanie hadn’t suffered the deprivation of her beloved bear while they’d been out.

  He then said with unwonted gentleness, and although he spoke quietly the two little words bounced into her conscience like a shout: ‘Goodnight, Jan.’

  It wouldn’t be. It would be an awful night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Thank goodness for those car radio cassette players. You click in the cassette and the car is filled with light music instead of heavy silence. Not that Stephanie was silent on the journey home, she chatted away non-stop above the music. At breakfast, in the presence of Linda and Hugh, David had appeared abnormally cheerful. Had he been putting on an act for their benefit? Did his moody silence now mean that he hadn’t forgiven her for the mistaken, hot-headed, impulsive way she had attacked him yesterday?

  As they got out of the car a cool little breeze blew round Larkspur Cottage, but the gate was open. The prosaic explanation was that it had been left open by an inattentive milkman or postman, but Jan preferred to look on it as a sign. It was open to welcome her back.

  It was a cold lunch, and not merely because the ingredients for a ham salad had been taken from the fridge, but because of the atmosphere.

  Depression is catching, and Jan thought it was as much her own as his that roused David to say: ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit quiet. Ralph, in his capacity as my solicitor rather than as a friend, said something to me before I set off for Hugh and Linda’s that needed thinking about. I put it from me while I was there, but coming home has brought it back.’

  Jan was highly relieved that he wasn’t still annoyed with her, and slightly surprised at herself for thinking he might be. It wasn’t in his nature to bear grudges. He was a strange man. Obdurate and unflinching. He�
�d won her hate first, then her heart. Could he now be winning her respect?

  She took a thoughtful sip from her cup and said: ‘This problem, is it something to do with the house transaction?’

  ‘No. That couldn’t have gone smoother.’

  If it wasn’t some hitch to do with the buying of the cottage next door, then what could it be? She dare not ask.

  ‘Mrs. Weaver has moved herself out and the furniture and household goods she wants for her immediate use. The rest, mostly big stuff, is being collected by van and put into storage.’

  ‘I’m sorry that I missed saying goodbye to Mrs. Weaver,’ Jan said wistfully. ‘I didn’t know her all that well, because she was so rarely here. She seemed to spend most of her time visiting one or other of her vast horde of relatives, and when she was here she wasn’t given to gossiping over the garden fence. But the little I saw of her was enough to know I liked her.’

  ‘You will be pleased to know the feeling was mutual. Before she left she came round to say goodbye, and she said much the same about you. I got the impression that she was shy of pushing herself forward, but she wished she’d made the effort to get on friendlier terms. She entrusted me with a blue vase to give you as a keepsake.’

  Jan hoped it wasn’t the hideous blue vase she’d seen on Mrs. Weaver’s mantelshelf the one and only time she’d entered her cottage. It was.

  ‘It was a nice thought,’ she said, oddly touched. ‘You’ve got her address, of course? I must write and thank her.’

  ‘Yes, somewhere. I’ll sort it out for you. When you’ve finished your coffee, would you like to come and see what I’ve done with The Retreat?’

  ‘The Retreat?’

  ‘I can’t keep calling it Mrs. Weaver’s outbuilding, and it will be my retreat. Now that I’ve moved my bed in there, it will give you more room for your visitors.’

  ‘If I have any. I haven’t issued invitations.’