The Vital Spark

by Carson, Angela

  She tried to bring her hands up between them, to push him away, but he gave her no time. His grip pinioned her arms to her sides, and for the second time that morning his lips descended, hard and angry, on her own. His one hand cupped her head so that she could not pull it away, and his other clamped against her back, as immovable as a vice. She held herself stiff, trying to press away from him, feeling the bruising pressure on her lips that silenced her with deadly expertise, until against her will she felt herself responding, becoming pliant in his arms....

  He released her, then. He loosed his hands and let her go with a mocking laugh that made her hate him, want to lash out at him, but he must have sensed her movement even before it materialised, because she felt her hands captured by his.

  `You ... I'll....'

  `You'll what? Slay me? Or tell Jon?'

  He let go of her hands, daring her to strike him, laughing at her impotent fury because she knew if she tried he would merely catch her hands again, and prevent her. She gave a choking gasp and spun away from him, and almost sobbed with relief as Jon's voice came across the field, calling them,

  `Haydn—Lee !' and the voices of the two dogs joined in. Lee turned towards the sound, almost hysterically thankful to feel the spaniel's big paws climb up her for a fuss, and she filled her arms with his silky coat and hugged him to her, using him to hide the rush of tears that she could not hold back any longer. She rubbed her face dry with the back of her wrist just in time as her brother joined them.

  `I'm glad you hadn't gone far,' his face was creased with concern. 'Ben's just told me about the damage the storm caused in the harbour last night,' he said urgently. 'It seems some yachtsman ran for shelter in the teeth of it, instead of sitting it out. He was a bit of an amateur, from

  all accounts,' he told Haydn. 'He seems to have lost his head when he came into the harbour, and he damaged a couple of boats. One of them is quite badly holed, I believe. I hope it isn't yours, Haydn,' he finished unhappily. But if it is,' he brightened, 'you must stay here with us at Polrewin until it's seaworthy again,' he invited generously.

  CHAPTER THREE

  To better get down there right away, I suppose.'

  Haydn did not seem particularly concerned, thought Lee, at the possible wanton damage to his cabin cruiser. If the boat belonged to her she would have raised the roof. His comparatively calm reaction puzzled her, until she remembered that the bill for repairs would not unduly bother him.-

  `Lee will take you,' Jon offered immediately. 'There's no need for you to walk that far, and Nell's taking over in the house today anyway.' He took his sister's co-operation for granted.

  `I've got to take the day's batch of tomatoes in any case.' Lee refused to let Haydn think she would only go because of him, and she stepped out briskly beside the two men towards the house. `I'll run the van round. Will you help me to load it, Jon?'

  `Yes. I'd take you in myself, Haydn, but I've got to wait for a delivery of fuel,' her brother said. 'The tanker's due—oh gosh ! Here it comes,' he exclaimed as they neared the house and the rounded sides of a large tanker rose above the hedgerow tangle of die lane. 'I'll have to leave you to it,' he apologised, 'unless I back the driver in tie can't turn to come through the gate, it's too narrow.'

  `I'll pick you up in about ten minutes,' Lee told Haydn, and turned towards the garage. She heard him speak to Ben behind her, but she did not turn round, and when she braked to a halt outside the house it was to find the man missing, a pile of filled tomato trays stacked waiting for her to load, and Haydn stood beside them.

  `I'll help you with these.'

  `There's no need,' she told him shortly, 'I can manage.'

  She swung the doors of the van wide, and turned to find Haydn behind her with an armful of tomato trays. For a moment she stood her ground resentfully, and he gave an

  impatient motion of his head for her to stand aside, away from the doors. When she did not immediately comply he deliberately tilted the tomato trays and to her dismay she saw the top one shift on the pile. Another half inch, and it would crash to the ground. She moved aside hurriedly, and with a sharp glance at her Haydn righted it by the simple expedient of flexing his body backwards until it tipped the other way. He had to bend his knees and stoop low to slide his burden on to the floor of the van. He pushed the first stack well in, and stooping carefully to avoid cracking his head when he emerged he backed clear and straightened to his full height.

  `Thank you,' he said evenly, and Lee eased the stack of trays in her own arms, preparatory to sending them to join the others in the van.

  `I can manage by myself. I always do,' she told him crushingly, and with easy dexterity slid her load next to his. She did not have to stoop so far, nor back out so carefully, her much shorter stature making the Minivan more her size than Haydn's, but nonetheless he picked up another armful of trays ready to take her place by the time she turned round again to the stack on the gravel. They finished loading the van in strained silence, and Lee waited until he slammed both doors shut, automatically giving them an experimental tug to make sure the lock had caught properly.

  `I'm ready, if you are,' she said tonelessly, and at his nod she walked round the vehicle and slipped into the driving seat. She inserted the key in the ignition before she realised the door on the passenger side was still locked, and she reached across unhurriedly and slid up the knob to allow him to get in beside her, conscious of a small satisfaction that it was Haydn who had had to wait. Doubtless in his world it was the women who waited, she thought grimly as she watched him stow his long length into the seat beside her.

  `It's roomier than it looks.' He sounded surprised, and she switched on the engine and cruised slowly along the drive to the gate before she replied.

  `It does well enough at the moment for what we want.'

  `You'd find it easier to load if you had a bigger vehicle.'

  `I find this one easy enough as it is,' she answered shortly, and her chin set stubbornly. Haydn seemed to assume that because he belonged to a big concern it gave him the right to criticise and try to alter everything he saw at Polrewin. She had had the Mini before she came to Cornwall; it had just the right amount of carrying capacity for her equipment in her previous work as a domestic science demonstrator, as well as the added advantage of being small and nippy enough to pop into crowded car parks without too much of a struggle.

  `Is the daisy motif on the roof going to be Polrewin's trade mark?' He asked politely enough, but Lee sensed a note of amusement in his voice, and she answered curtly.

  `We haven't got as far as thinking about a trade mark yet. I put the transfer on for my own convenience, just after I bought the van.'

  Ah, your own personal motif,' he smiled in a superior manner, as if she was still a teenager dabbing transfers on everything, she thought crossly.

  `No,' she contradicted him with dignity, 'I put it on for a purpose. The Mini happens to be a popular car, at least it is in the world I belonged to before I came here,' she added sarcastically. Doubtless Haydn's world was populated by Jaguars and Bentleys, but she had not progressed so far yet. 'In a city car park there are usually dozens of vehicles exactly alike, and it saves a lot of trouble walking about sorting out which one belongs to you, if you can spot it at a distance.' It happened to be a true explanation of the large white daisy transfer with the yellow centre she had in a moment of exasperation stuck on to the roof of the little van, after having forgotten the particular parking slot she was in, and found on her return some hours later that there were dozens of similar vehicles scattered about the huge car park, entailing half an hour's tramping she could ill afford before she eventually found her own.

  `Logical,' he drawled, 'particularly if you've got a bad memory.' He put his finger unerringly on the true explanation, and her hands tightened on the steering wheel vexedly, but he went on before she could say anything, 'And do you

  intend to return to the world you came from, in time? Or will you remain at Polrewin, partne
ring Jon?' He sounded only mildly interested, as if he was making conversation to pass the time, and she answered him readily enough, thankful to get on to something like neutral ground between them.

  `I wouldn't dream of leaving Jon until Polrewin is a going concern,' she told him, in a tone that said it should have been self-evident. 'I admit I enjoyed my job—I was a domestic science demonstrator,' she answered the unspoken question in his glance, 'but nothing—and nobody—can be more important than one's own family,' she said adamantly in a tone that questioned any other course of action was possible.

  `Domestic science demonstrator?' He took up her comment with a different slant. 'You'll be the answer to some lucky man's dream, one day,' he smiled lazily, watching her face. 'Unless, of course, your skills are already spoken for?' he quizzed her softly.

  `They're spoken for at Polrewin.' She resented his probing of her personal life, and showed it. 'And so far,' she assured him, ruthlessly suppressing the memory of Dennis, `there hasn't been a man lucky enough, as you call it, to lay claim to my domestic science skills. Though it looks as if I might have to get in a bit of practice at home if your boat has been damaged,' she added slowly as she braked to a halt outside the greengrocer's shop in the harbour, and glanced across the water towards Haydn's cabin cruiser.

  `Poor old Sea Mist! What a mess !' Haydn gave a groan, and spoke as if the boat was a personal friend.

  `It was your boat that was holed....' Lee could not eradicate the dismay in her voice, which was occasioned by the memory of Jon's invitation to her companion to remain at Polrewin until his boat was seaworthy again, rather than at the plight of the cabin cruiser itself. And that, even to her inexperienced eyes, looked quite bad enough.

  The tide was 'out, and in common with other craft of its kind, Haydn's cruiser lay on its side like a beached whale, waiting for the returning water to float it off again. And in its exposed side a large hole yawned like a gaping mouth-

  or an open invitation for the rising tide to fill the boat.

  `Go down and have a look, I can see to these.' Lee got out of the Mini and opened the back doors, smiling at Mr Dunn as he hurried from his shop to remove the trays of produce.

  `You've seen the results of the storm, then?' he questioned her cheerfully. 'Whoever owns that craft will have a tidy bill, I'll warrant.'

  `It's this gentleman as came off her yesterday, Dad.' Betty appeared out of the interior of the shop, and sent a dazed glance towards Haydn. 'They was looking for you everywhere, this morning,' she told him with ghoulish relish. 'Nobody knew where you'd gone to.'

  `I'm staying at Polrewin,' Haydn answered her with a smile that brought a delighted sparkle to Betty's eyes.

  `Well now, you never said you knew him,' she reproached Lee.

  `I didn't, until yesterday,' Lee answered her shortly. 'Mr Scott is a friend of my brother.'

  `Ooh, an' after what you said to him in the harbour!' Betty gave a gasp in which awe and envy fought for supremacy. Doubtless she imagined all sorts of dramatic scenes when they were introduced, Lee realised impatiently, wishing the girl would stop acting like the heroine of one of her favourite novels, and go and help her father bring in the trays of salads.

  `What happened in the harbour?' Mr Dunn caught the end of her remark, and looked interested.

  `Chaos, from the look of it.' Haydn deliberately misunderstood him, and gestured towards his crippled vessel. `Have you any idea where I can find the person responsible?' His look boded ill for the yacht owner, and Mr Dunn became immediately helpful.

  `The harbourmaster's got all the particulars, sir. Didn't Miss Ramsay say your name was Scott?' he added interestedly, and at Haydn's nod asked, 'You're not related to the Scotts from the Channel Islands, I suppose? You are? Well now, no wonder you're friends with the folk at Polrewin,' he chuckled, satisfied with his piece of detective work, `you're both in the same line, so to speak. Though on different scales, of course,' he added meticulously. 'I've heard

  rumours you're intending to expand on the mainland, Mr Scott?' he probed chattily.

  `I'm looking round for a base, yes, but only tentatively so far,' Haydn answered him in a disinterested tone. 'Come on, Lee, if you've finished, we'll go and look up the harbourmaster and get some details.' He waited with every evidence of impatience while she pocketed the greengrocer's tally, nodded to Mr Dunn and Betty, and took her arm in a firm grasp and stepped on to the pavement, determinedly steering her away from Mr Dunn's obvious desire to continue their chat.

  `You carry on, I've got the van to lock up first.' Lee remembered the driving door and grabbed at the excuse to be on her own for a few minutes.

  `I'll wait while you attend to it,' he insisted, and to her chagrin he remained glued to her side while she checked all the doors in the van and pocketed the ignition key. She cast him a puzzled glance, and he met it coolly.

  `Your presence might act as a calming influence,' he told her, and grinned openly at the expression on her face. She had been anything but a calming influence on him up to now, she thought. 'You just might prevent me from drowning the nitwit responsible for this,' he gave a hiss of suppressed anger as she walked beside him, propelled by his fingers under her elbow, down the harbour steps and across the dry pebbles, to stand beside the crippel vessel.

  Lee felt a surge of sympathy pass over her as they neared the Sea Mist, and the extent of the damage became more obvious, but it was for the cabin cruiser, not for its owner, she told herself firmly. It looked so helpless, lying there on its side. Pathetic, somehow, in its mute appeal for help.

  `Where's the harbourmaster's office?' growled Haydn, after a silent inspection that Lee began to think would go on forever.

  `Along the hard—I'll show you.' She would have gone on in front and led the way, but he still held tight to her arm, his fingers curled round her wrist now, obliging her to walk beside him. Close beside him. Lee could almost feel Betty's interested eyes upon them as they remounted the harbour steps opposite the greengrocer's shop.

  `I've got the owner's name and address here, Mr Scott,' the harbourmaster was helpful, and sympathetic. 'He was only a youngster, really, with his first boat. I think he panicked a bit, he could have sat out the storm safely enough, but he lost his nerve and ran for the harbour just when it was at its worst. He came in far too fast, he'd got no hope of checking his speed in the wild water, with the wind behind him Your boat was the first thing he hit....'

  `I'll have to see about getting her repaired,' Haydn began, and the official interrupted to say,

  `I've already made some enquiries at the boatyard on the other side of the harbour, sir. They're an old established firm, and they can take it in and have it ready for you in about a week, if that suits you?' he said helpfully. 'If you like to get your things out of the cabin, I'll make all the arrangements for you. Just leave me your telephone number. By the way, where will you be staying?' he asked, with a glance in Lee's direction.

  `At Poirewin,' Haydn answered. 'My friend heard of the accident, and offered me hospitality.' He said friend, not friends, and unaccountably the omission rankled, and Lee wondered why it should. Her one desire was for Haydn to pack his bags and go. Only he hadn't got any bags to pack, not at Polrewin.

  `I'll have to get my luggage from the cabin, if you're willing to take it back with us?' She was surprised he asked permission, he seemed to take everything else for granted, she thought tartly.

  `We might as well go and get it while we're here.' The boatbuilders' people would not want to be responsible for his personal possessions. She accompanied him back to his cruiser, and would have remained on the beach, but he jumped lightly on to the tilting deck and leaned down, offering her his hand.

  `Come up and have a look around her,' he invited. `There's no need to be afraid, I won't let you slip. She's not tilting all that badly.' His look challenged her to refuse and decided her to accept at the same time.

  `I've got rubbers on, they grip well enough.' She grasped his hand reluctantly
, but found she was glad of his help in

  spite of her rubber soles, as they negotiated the steeply sloping deck.

  `Mind this patch.' He stepped across a broad, shiny band of something on the deck, and turned to lift Lee across in her turn. 'I spilled a tin of varnish on it, and I haven't had time to do anything about it yet. It's probably still tacky, and you won't want to take it away on your shoes.'

  So that was why he had stepped up on to the guard rail when he came ashore yesterday, instead of walking across the deck. He wanted to avoid stepping in the wet varnish. Lee went hot as she remembered how she had accused him of showing off, but he gave no sign that he remembered what he said, and he helped her descent of the tilting steps into the day cabin with solicitous care.

  (It's a four-berth boat,' he told her conversationally. 'I like a bit of room to move about when I'm living afloat.' He spoke as if he used it frequently. Lee would have liked more room in the Minivan, but she would not admit it after Haydn's suggestion that they should obtain another vehicle.

  `It's nicely fitted out,' she commented.

  It was beautifully fitted out, from the look of it regardless of cost, but she kept her voice deliberately casual, though she could not hide the appreciative sparkle in her eyes as they roamed across the furnishing of the day cabin. The upholstery was in tweed, in soft muted tones of brown and cream, picking up the plain brown of the carpet under her feet. The curtains at the windows matched the seats, and Lee wondered if they had come with the boat, or if Haydn had a hand in their choosing. If so, he had a good eye for tone, she acknowledged reluctantly. The decor was a perfect foil for his own amber colouring. Probably photography had taught him discernment, she thought.

  `The other berths are in different shades.' He ducked through a door at the far end of the day cabin, and seemed to take it for granted that she would follow him, because he held it open for her, and after a moment's hesitation she joined him.