'Only the rich are invited to the Tyssens',' his sister said brutally. 'People of that sort don't have time for anyone without money.'
'Ella isn't a bit like that,' Carolyn said quickly. 'She's sweet and charming.'
'Don't mind Margaret.' Derek sat down and filled his pipe. 'Whenever she knows I want something, she acts like a hen defending her chick.'
'Because I happen to recognise your talent,' his sister said 'and your best way of proving it is to meet people who can afford to have their portraits painted. Wasting your time on village children isn't going to get you anywhere.' She stood up, piled the dirty cups and saucers on a tray and stalked out.
Not until the door had swung shut behind her did Derek speak. 'Don't mind Margaret's temper. She gets annoyed because I haven't reached the top. Not that it worries me. As long as I've enough to eat and can afford to buy the paints I want, I'm happy. The main reason I'd like to get somewhere is because of her. At least I could help her and see she didn't have to work any more. She was wonderful to me when I was a kid, and now she's the one who needs looking after.'
'Was she very ill?'
He nodded. 'She should have married and had kids of her own. Looking after other people's children was the worst thing for her.'
'It's the next best thing if you haven't got any of your own. I loved every minute I spent working in the orphanage.'
'Because you knew it was only temporary. You never believed you'd end up spending your whole life there.'
'That's true,' she admitted, and broke off as Margaret de Mancy came back into the room.
'Why are you sitting in the dark? I'll turn on the lamps.'
Carolyn stood up. 'I must be going.'
'I'll drive you back,' Derek said.
'There's no need. The walk'll do me good.'
'I'll come with you to the top of the lane.'
Carolyn smiled her thanks and turned to the woman. 'I hope we'll meet again soon.'
That's up to you. We're always here. It depends how busy you are!'
Ignoring the bitterness in the words, Carolyn said goodbye and waited by the door as Derek put on his coat. A fierce wind had sprung up and as they breasted the shore road it hit them with force. He caught her arm and tucked it beneath his, and in step they walked along the lane.
'You'll like Margaret when you get to know her. Her manner's abrupt, but she's got a heart of gold.'
'I find it easier to talk to you.'
The wind half carried her words away, but he heard them and bent his head till the soft, fine hair of his beard brushed against her cheek. 'I can think of something much better than talking. Remind to tell you some time!'
'It'll be safer if you don't!'
For answer he tucked her arm more firmly beneath his own and strode on at a pace that had her breathless by the time they reached the crossroads.
'There's no need to come any further,' she said. 'I'll be quite all right from here.'
'Before you go, tell me when I can start your portrait.'
'Any time you like.' She hesitated. 'Look, Derek, I'd be happier if you'd let me commission it from you.'
'You'll do nothing of the sort. If it's any good when it's finished I'll give it to you as a present.'
'Then I'll have to repay you some other way.' Suddenly she had the solution. 'Your sister said something about your meeting the Tyssens. If you like I'll see if I can get you an invitation to Jeffreys engagement party.'
'Forget what Margaret said,' he answered quickly. 'She talks too much.'
'But she's right.'
'Tyssen wouldn't want a penniless artist at his sister's engagement party.'
'You'd come as a friend of mine,' Carolyn said indignantly.
'That's the nicest thing you've said all the afternoon!' Derek caught her close and gave her a quick hug. 'Let me see you soon, Carolyn. You're the only person I can talk to around here.'
She gave an embarrassed laugh. 'I thought Englishmen were slow!'
'I'm Irish!'
'That accounts for it, then!' She stopped and held out her hand. 'Don't bother coming any further. It's a straight road from here.'
'Running away?' he teased.
'Perhaps.' Without giving him a chance to answer she turned and hurried off.
That evening Jeffrey was home for dinner, complaining that he had been deserted by Ella who had flown to Sweden for a few days to see a great-aunt.
'Are the Tyssens Swedish?' Carolyn asked.
'Their grandfather was. He came here as a chemist and set up a small factory to produce his own patent medicines. Ella's father started in the chemical field, but it was Alvin who really gingered things up. He's the genius in the family. A first-rate bio-chemist with fantastic organising ability. The two rarely go together.'
'I suppose that's why he expects everybody else to be perfect too.'
Jeffrey grinned. 'I can see you don't like brother-in-law Alvin!'
'You're dead right!' Abruptly she changed the subject. 'What do you do at Tyssen's?'
'I'm a glorified office boy with an outsize salary.'
'Be thankful for it,' Mrs. Nichols said. 'At least it means you'll be able to keep Ella—which you certainly wouldn't be able to do with your music.'
'That's only your opinion!' He turned to Carolyn. 'Mother's taking a crack at my so-called musical talent. She hasn't much faith in it.'
'Have you?' Carolyn asked.
'I'm prejudiced,' he said lightly. 'I'd rather let you judge for yourself.
'Carolyn doesn't want to waste her time,' Mrs. Nichols said, 'and neither do you. Composing won't get you anywhere. The sooner you forget it, the better.'
'I don't see why, I've enough time on my hands at the office. No one would give a damn if I brought in a piano and started playing.'
'How do you think Alvin would react?'
'He doesn't expect me to work. He just gave me the job as a face-saver. At least he'll be able to say he's got a brother-in-law who's working for his living!'
Mrs. Nichols set her spoon down sharply. 'Haven't you any pride?'
'Pride in what? We've been parasites all our lives—I don't see that as something to be proud of.'
Mother and son glared at each other across the table, and though Carolyn despised everything they stood for she could not help feeling a sneaking sympathy for Jeffrey.
'Are all the plans settled for the engagement party?' she asked tactfully.
Jeffrey turned and looked at her blankly. Then his brow cleared. 'Oh yes. It's all fixed. A small affair, though. A mere two hundred couples!'
'Alvin must have a large house.'
'Wait till you see it.'
Trying to picture him in his home was an impossibility that increased her nervousness, making the next question so embarrassing to ask that only her promise to Derek prevented her from changing the subject: 'Do you—do you think he would mind if I asked a friend to come along?'
'I didn't know you knew anybody here well enough to invite,' Mrs. Nichols said pointedly.
'It's a man I met in the village. He's a painter.'
'Sounds interesting,' Jeffrey interposed. 'Perhaps he'll do some lightning sketches of the guests 1'
Carolyn's sympathy for Jeffrey vanished, but she was prevented from replying by Airs. Nichols, who unexpectedly said: 'If you mean Mr. de Mancy, he happens to be an R.A.'
'In my book that stands for ruddy awful 1' Jeffrey pushed back his curly brown hair. 'Still, you always were a sucker for artists—as long as they're outside the family of course. I guess it's a hangover from your chorus days.'
Mrs. Nichols paled, but her response was stifled by the sudden entry of the maid who breathlessly whispered that Mr. Tyssen had arrived and was waiting in the drawing-room.
Jeffrey glanced at his mother. 'He never said anything about coming over tonight. I wonder what's up?'
'The best way to find out is to go and see.' As she spoke Mrs. Nichols led the way across the hall, paused momentarily at the drawing-room
door as though mentally girding her loins, and then walked in.
'Alvin, my dear, what a lovely surprise! We weren't expecting you.'
'I came to collect some papers from Jeffrey. He forgot to leave them for me.'
Jeffrey went hurriedly to the door. 'I put them in my briefcase by mistake. I was going to telephone you after dinner.'
'Would you bring me the table plans for the party at the same time?' Mrs. Nichols asked. 'I'd like Alvin to take them to Ella. They're on the desk in my bedroom. If not, you'll find them in the top drawer, under some notes about the—— '
'It'd be better if you looked for them yourself,' Jeffrey interrupted. 'Then you won't blame me if I can't find them.'
Mother and son left the room together and Carolyn shrank back in her chair and wished herself miles away. It was the first time she had seen Alvin since her visit to Darien and, remembering the husky voice of the unseen Mrs. Anderson, she stared at him curiously. How aloof and reserved he looked, sitting in the straight-backed chair. One leg was crossed over the other, the brilliant patent shoe catching the light of the lamp behind him. His arms rested negligently over the chair, his narrow hands accentuated white against the black of his dinner jacket. His face was half turned away from her and she saw the sweep of silver-fair hair brushed back close and smooth against his head.
Suddenly he turned and looked at her fully. 'How is your stepson settling down at school?'
'Very well. He knows all the letters of the alphabet and can count up to thirty!'
'A mathematical genius!'
'It's excellent for a child of his age.'
'You needn't jump to his defence.' A faint note of amusement crept into the dry voice. 'I wasn't maligning the boy.'
She turned away angrily, affording the man opposite a view of her small, straight nose and the sweet, childish curve of her mouth. The clock on the mantelpiece chimed nine, but she did not lift her glance, keeping it firmly fixed on the grate where a coal glowed warmly.
'Do you find the flames so interesting?' Alvin asked.
Forced to look at him, she did so. 'I'm sorry. What would you like to talk about?'
'That remark's enough to kill any conversation!'
'I'm sure you're never at a loss for words, Air. Tyssen.'
'On the contrary, Carolyn,' he said stressing her name, 'I often find it difficult to say what I mean.'
'You've never acted that way with me. When I remember some of the things you said my first evening here, I could still blow my top!'
He stood up and instinctively she clenched her hands. He noticed the movement and a faint smile played around his mouth.
'Do you still find our climate so cold?' he asked conversationally.
'It's not the climate that's cold—it's the people!'
'Surely not? They dress far more warmly than you!'
'Don't play with words. You know exactly what I mean.'
Silently he bent, picked up a pair of tongs and methodically replenished the fire with coal, hanging the tongs back carefully on the brass stand in the hearth. 'You should get yourself some woollen clothes. Then you could get rid of your hot temper.'
Here was the chance she had been waiting for. 'I've already ordered some at Darien's. I believe he's very good.'
'He is. Most of my friends—female ones, I mean—go there. I presume you've ordered some lavish creation for the engagement party?'
'Darien's dreaming up something special.' She pushed back her hair with a nervous gesture. 'He says I'm the same size as one of the models, so he won't have to make any adjustments.'
'You have a model's figure,' Alvin agreed, 'but not quite the same poise.'
'I'm sorry I don't please you.'
'You don't displease me. Too much poise can be artificial.'
'I guess so. I never had much time for pretending. I've always had to work too hard.'
'This life must be completely different for you. What does it feel like to have nothing to do and as much money to spend as you want?'
'The money isn't mine,' she retorted. 'I went to Darien because Mrs. Nichols said I must live up to my so-called position. And as for having nothing to do——————————- ' She stopped for an instant and then burst out: 'It's as boring as limbo!'
'Come, come, I can't swallow that one. Most of your sex are only interested in two things: money to spend and the chance of turning some man into a simpering idiot!' He opened his cigarette case. 'So many women admire strength in a lover, yet choose weakness in a husband.'
'Having had neither, I can't enter into the argument.'
He offered her a cigarette and she took it. 'Aren't you forgetting your own marriage?'
'It wasn't a marriage of choice. And it wasn't a real marriage either. You know yourself why I became Peter's wife.'
Alvin flicked open his lighter and though she tried to see the expression in his eyes they were narrowed and distorted by his glasses.
'Kolsky was the type to appeal to someone like you—he was a man you could mother.'
'Miss Williams said that—she's the Warden at the orphanage.'
'An astute person!'
'I'm not sure I agree—about Peter, I mean. I like lame ducks, but I wouldn't marry one from choice. Anyway, what's wrong with wanting to mother someone? It's a normal female instinct. Or perhaps you prefer your women to be tough?'
He took out a spotless handkerchief, removed his glasses and began to polish them. 'I like a woman to be warm and malleable, and with sufficient intelligence to see the trees as well as the wood.' He stopped polishing his glasses and looked at them reflectively. 'It's a pity we didn't meet before you knew Kolsky. You might have been less prejudiced if you'd seen me first.'
'I've never seen you.'
'What do you mean?'
'You always wear glasses and they hide your expression. It makes your face into a mask.'
'My eyes are bad,' he said simply. 'I can't see without them.' He turned in her direction. 'At the moment I can't see you at all.'
'No kidding!'
'No kidding.' He came over to her. 'Look at me, Carolyn. I'm giving you a chance to see me properly.'
She lifted her head and did as he asked. For an instant she felt nothing, then suddenly she had the impression she was seeing him as a human being for the first time. Robbed of the thick, impersonal lenses, his eyes were startling: much bigger than she had expected, with a strange luminous quality that made him appear strangely vulnerable. The pupils were dilated, but as she watched them they narrowed, the irises emerging like bright discs of amber, framed with long, curling lashes of the same rich colour.
'They're beautiful,' she said involuntarily, and could instantly have kicked herself. 'I'm sorry. It was stupid of me to say a thing like that.'
'Not at all.' His voice had lost its precision and was unusually gentle, and the fingers twirling the silver-rimmed spectacles were still. His eyebrows, fine and delicately arched, had the texture of sable and she felt an irresistible urge to touch them. The eyelids, faintly blue and fragile, closed for a moment and he blinked rapidly several times.
'With your permission I'll put them on again.'
'Of course.' As he slipped his glasses into place the illusion of tenderness was gone and she turned away. 'Have you always worn them?'
'Since I was a child. I was unable to play games because of it. It didn't add to my happiness at school.'
'Children can be pretty brutal,' she admitted.
'I know. With my glasses on I couldn't fight them, and without my glasses I couldn't see them.' Although he smiled it did not counteract the pathos behind his words. 'It was disconcerting not to see a blow coming and then suddenly be on the receiving end of it.'
It was all too easy to imagine him as a small, defenceless child, and she did not like the sympathy it aroused in her. 'What did you do about it? I can't imagine you submitting docilely to anything unpleasant.'
'I learned judo!'
She caught her breath. 'I might h
ave known no one could get the better of you.' 'Would you prefer it if they did?'
'I wasn't thinking in terms of "they",' she said hesitantly. 'I was thinking in terms of—of me.'
'Do you think you could get the better of me?'
'Only when you take off your glasses.'
'I might even do that, Carolyn.'
He moved towards her again, and embarrassed, she moved back and knelt down to rake the fire.
'It'll burn out if we're not careful,' she said quickly. 'I've been so used to central heating I forget to put coal on the darned thing.'
She jabbed vigorously with a poker and a red-hot cinder shot out of the grate and fell among die folds of her skirt. There was an instant smell of burning and she jumped back with a scream.
Instantly Alvin pulled her to her feet and flattened his hand against the flame smouldering at the hem of her dress. When he released the material a few charred fragments fell to the ground and with his other hand he picked up the tongs, lifted the cinder from where it had fallen on the carpet, and deposited it back on the fire.
'You should be more careful,' he said slowly. 'You might have hurt yourself.'
Trembling, she sank on to a chair. 'That's the understatement of the year!'
'I'll get you a drink. You look pale.'
'I'm all right, thanks.' She looked at him for the first rime. 'But what about you? You crushed out the flame with your hand.'
'There wasn't time to get a bucket of water.' As he spoke he took a white silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and wound it tightly round his palm.
'Let me see it,' she said quickly.
'Don't worry. It's nothing.'
'But you must have burnt the skin. Please show it to me. I'm a nurse.'
He slipped his injured hand into the pocket of his dinner jacket. 'Don't fuss, Carolyn. I'm all right.'
'You can't be! If you——— ' she stopped and turned away as
Mrs. Nichols and Jeffrey came back into the room.
For the next half hour Alvin spoke with them as if nothing untoward had happened, but all the time she was aware that he kept his right hand hidden from sight, and when he stood up to leave, he still kept it tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
Rachel Lindsay - Mask of Gold Page 9
