The One and Only

by Doris E. Smith

  ‘And I’m sorry, but neither is there anything to discuss. ‘I’ll be pushing off as soon as Kelly comes back. This was a holding operation, nothing more.’

  ‘What am I to take from that?’ His eyes had narrowed.

  ‘The facts.’ Confound the man! Couldn’t he see she was handing him the final absolution? ‘I am very busy. There are things I put off doing so that Graham should have this treat. You’re here now. That rather releases me, I think.’

  His face whitened. ‘Pardon my stupidity. I’d no idea clock-watching came into it.’

  ‘It doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t,’ she said miserably. ‘I was just...’

  ‘Saying no,’ he cut in curtly. ‘In about twenty words. One would have done, girl. I can figure.’

  Was it possible he expected her to go on showing unlimited gratitude, like a puppy fawning for titbits? If so, then she was saying no. She could not prolong this circus of being brought along because of Kelly and because Angus felt like giving them a treat.

  ‘Then I’ll go and get the van ready,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you’d send Kelly over when she comes back.

  ‘Now?’ His jaw dropped. ‘What about her lunch?’

  It was the last straw. Maggie’s nerves were at concert pitch, Angus was thinking about lunch. Could anyone, even Troy, hope to penetrate such a thick self-satisfied crust?

  ‘There are more important things than eating!’ she blazed, wrenched at the door handle and went out.

  Packing was negligible and though the van’s windscreen could have done with a wipe it was parked too close to the MacAllan chalet for comfort. Besides, she was tired. Yesterday had taken its toll, today had added to it. She sat down weakly on the edge of her bunk and to her shame found herself in tears.

  It wouldn’t do. There were losses for which she’d had the right to cry—her father, Tom, Sally. Angus whose pride was all she had ever touched was not one of them. She got up determinedly and sponged her face, but still she felt rubber-kneed and messy. A shower and a change of clothing seemed the answer. She was still sluicing herself when the outside door rattled.

  ‘Kelly?’ she called. ‘Good girl! I’m in here.’

  Kelly would be in low spirits at the curtailing of the weekend. She must devise some treat for the way home.

  ‘There’s a towel on the rail, sweet one. Will you pass it, please?’

  There was a slight pause and then the shower curtain rustled. The towel came through and with it a man’s large hand. ‘With pleasure, sweet one!’ a voice assured.

  For a stupefied second as Maggie stared at the hand eight weeks seemed to have rolled away and she was back in Charlotte Square. Then sense returned. She struck raggedly at the intruding fingers and thrust her head through the curtain.

  A face bubbling with amusement looked back. ‘I think this is where I came in.’ Angus stated blandly.

  She was rosy, stuttering and incredulous. ‘You—you—go away!’

  ‘Come on now. You know my weakness for seeing films over again.’

  His lips twitched irresistibly. In seconds, hers had followed. Peal after peal of laughter rose to the orange ceiling.

  ‘Do you make a habit of barging into bathrooms?’ Maggie asked shakily.

  ‘Always when I’m asked so nicely!’ A joke she knew, and yet there was a glow in Angus’s eyes that made her feel breathless and very young. Younger than springtime, in fact.

  ‘I wish you had meant it for me,’ he said simply. ‘It would be all I could wish for.’

  Suddenly the whole picture seemed to change. Even if she had been an interlude of charity, what was wrong with showing him the thanks and warmth he deserved?

  ‘I do mean it,’ she said as simply. ‘No one deserves it more.’

  He would understand she was saying ‘Thank you’. It was important to him to part good friends. It was what she wanted too. With all her heart. And then it went wild. A gentle kiss would not have been unexpected, Angus’s lips were hard and exultant. Her own met them joyfully. She felt his strength through the shower curtains. Sadness, joy, ecstasy made her shiver.

  ‘Here, don’t catch cold on me,’ he said practically. ‘We’ve a date to fix.’

  It struck chill, but she had been expecting it. Troy had warned her that Wee House was not being included in the sale. Whether or not she stayed on with the new owners of the stables, she would have to find other living accommodation. At this moment, however, nothing was as important as these last hours. They would be hers for ever, to have and to hold.

  ‘May I change my mind about lunch?’ she asked with her head still parting the curtains. ‘We’d like to stay.’

  She thought he looked slightly dazed. ‘Yes, I—I took that for granted.’

  Maggie dressed quickly. With some idea that the birthday festivities might call for it, she had thrown a dress into the case at the last moment. Lunch could easily be eaten in slacks and sweater—Angus’s dark tweed shirt and tie were casual, his tartan-lined topcoat was tabbed and sporty—yet somehow the urge to dress up a little was irresistible. The dress was emerald, high-necked and flaring into plaid on the skirt. Its dramatic colour gave her skin a porcelain clarity and turned her hair to a bell of pale satin. She used a lilac eye shadow. ‘I don’t want him to remember me in trousers,’ she thought childishly as she opened the door.

  ‘That’s nice,’ Angus said approvingly. ‘I’ve often thought about you in green. One of these days we must take a run down to Bonnie Tweeds and see what they’ve got. First things first, though. What’s the best you can do for me? Three weeks?’

  It was a shock. ‘You mean to get out of Wee House?’ Maggie asked dully.

  ‘Now don’t say it like that. It can be done if you put your mind to it. Sit down and I’ll show you.’

  The chalets had been furnished economically, each with a long couch in the living-room that could if necessary double as a bed.

  ‘It’s a day of truce, Angus,’ Maggie said as she seated herself. ‘We won’t quarrel. I can be out next week.’

  ‘Out, maybe,’ he amended. ‘But not in. At least I doubt it, though I’ll do my best.’

  ‘In where?’

  ‘My bed.’

  Now she knew she was dreaming. The world narrowed to a forehead with boyish freckles, reddish sideboards and teasing green eyes. ‘There’s a wee thing you’ve overlooked,’ the owner of all these said kindly. ‘It’s called a marriage licence.’ Maggie’s cheeks felt as though they had gone on fire, her heart gave a thump that was painful. ‘You—don’t mean—me?’ she stammered.

  ‘Who else, for goodness’ sake? We’ve discussed it often enough.’

  ‘Discussed it? One of us must have a touch of the sun!’

  His face whitened. ‘Just say you’ll take me, Maggie. We can go on from there.’

  ‘I’ll take you, Angus,’ she said solemnly. ‘Quick as you like. Before you change your mind.’

  It was a long time before she had breath to say anything else. But then, as promised, they went on.

  ‘I thought we’d an understanding. That Sunday in Glencoe you told me to bide my time.’

  ‘That was for Troy. You asked me your chances with Troy. I advised you to lay off the pressure.’

  ‘With Troy? Now I know you’re not only blonde but dumb. If you had eyes in your head, woman, you’d see which way I run when Troy’s around.’

  ‘But everyone said you wanted to marry her.’

  ‘Everyone?’

  ‘Well—Derek and Mrs. MacAllan—and Troy herself. Only she didn’t want to. She wanted to work in Africa.’

  His face, no longer teasing, seemed to say it all. ‘It’s an old game, my dear. She put you off the scent and played on your sympathies at one and the same time.’

  It was true, and Troy had half admitted it in that last hasty apology. Most of the machinations, including the mix-up over supper that first night, were now clear. The dinner party was the only remaining question mark.

  ‘The only thin
g I could think of was that you’d force her to stay with you.’

  ‘Casanova MacAllan!’ he twinkled. ‘We shall just have to see, won’t we?’

  ‘She really was terrified. I saw her.’ Troy couldn’t have feigned her looks nor all her jumpiness.

  ‘That’s true, she was,’ Angus agreed promptly. ‘Not quite for that reason, though. She used her eyes. And she saw how it was with me. You’d have seen too if you’d spared me a look. But you didn’t. Everyone else in the room, it seemed like, but not me.’

  ‘That’s funny,’ Maggie said demurely. ‘Because you were the only person I remember.’

  Once again he drew her to him, wordlessly but speaking quite eloquently with hands and eyes and the feel of his hard forehead. It seemed so true and so simple that Maggie found it more and more difficult to stomach her own secret. No help for it. Some day Angus would have to know. It would take courage, but it was inescapable.

  He was explaining now that Troy had found someone else, a student at Aberdeen, undoubtedly the boy whom Rob had seen holding her hand. ‘This time she could be serious. They’re talking of going abroad. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.’

  ‘She did in a way. I thought it was you.’

  ‘If we can’t do something about your arithmetic,’ Angus observed sorrowfully, ‘I can see us going into the red. Oh, didn’t I tell you? You’ve got a new boss. She’s agreed to sell me the stables. I clinched it the night of Graham’s concert. I thought since she had your ticket she might as well compensate.’

  ‘Oh, Angus!’ It was too much. Joy upon joy was being heaped upon her. But why her ticket? Why hadn’t he given it to her?

  ‘Acting under orders. Yours, girl. You said lay off the pressure. I did.’

  ‘If we can’t do something about your wrong impressions I can see us heading for trouble,’ Maggie toyed dreamily with a lock of his hair.

  ‘Ay, well, you’ve one or two accolades to discard yourself.’ She was barely listening. He had nice hair, young and smooth-lying, except for that one springy piece nearest the parting.

  ‘My weaknesses, for instance,’ Angus said clearly. ‘I quote. “Apparently none. Thrifty. Unemotional. Careful drinker.” ’

  He hadn’t shouted, but to Maggie every word was a pistol shot. ‘What did you say?’ she could hardly bear to look at him.

  ‘Surely you know.’ His eyes smiled, but gently. ‘I have it off, I think. “Meticulous, self-sufficient, values the proprieties, a man of his word.” I believe it’s customary at this stage to ask if that is your statement and if you want to change it. There’s certainly a propriety or two I wouldn’t mind knocking this minute.’

  ‘Angus, don’t torture me. It’s not funny.’

  ‘No, my dear, certainly not that.’ He cupped her face. ‘Derek Grant wanted you to help him, didn’t he? There were a few whispers about him on the grapevine last week. Before that I’d never suspected him. Oh, I know it’s quite common—and safe. At the moment there’s no law against it. I knew people were interested in my movements. I knew it even in Dublin. That’s why I used your phone up in the mountains. You were my bolthole and my safety valve. I do have weaknesses, dearest, I need to talk. And it gave you a damned rough ride. I’m sorry.’

  It was after all the simplest of combinations. Two people thinking the same way. For her it had not been possible to betray a trust. To Angus it had never occurred that she would. Derek had not known his people. He had sent the ‘reference’ in Maggie’s handwriting direct to its subject with the usual anonymous note ‘hoping it would be of interest’. The day before that he had told Maggie that Angus had pitied her.

  ‘Was it true?’ she asked suspiciously.

  Angus chuckled. ‘You don’t pity the sunshine, girl. You reach out and want it. Oh, I admit it might look like a good deed, but it wasn’t. I called on you quite independently of Grant, no matter what he might say. I went because I wanted you, be blowed to anyone else. Did you ever run away from something you wanted and then run back again for fear it would get away?’

  In the question was suddenly her own behaviour pattern over the past two months. ‘I think so,’ Maggie admitted contentedly. ‘Don’t you?’

  Graham and Kelly returned. The safari trail had led to the village and had run out in the hotel foyer, to be precise at the door of the bar.

  ‘They were stuffed!’ Kelly announced disgruntledly. ‘The fox and the wild cats, they were stuffed.’

  ‘Never said they weren’t,’ Graham pointed out. He looked expectantly at his father. ‘Do you still want me to keep her out of the way?’

  ‘One more word out of you,’ Angus returned. ‘And your new stepmother will think it’s a put-up job.’

  It was one thing to theorize and another to be faced with reality. Graham might not have meant the approval he’d blurted out yesterday when after all his world had been pretty rocky. Maggie looked anxiously at the round face and it beamed. ‘It’s all right, then? That’s a relief. I meant to ask you yesterday did you fancy him?’

  ‘Well, you see, son,’ Angus said poetically before Maggie could answer, ‘if you’re in a boat and the sea’s rough and someone asks what will they do if you’re seasick, you can be sure they needn’t worry. When the time comes you’ll do it yourself!’