The Vital Spark

by Carson, Angela

  `There's an advantage in being tiny,' he told her wryly, `you don't have to bend double to get through the door.'

  He could stand upright in the cabin itself, she noticed, it was only the shorter door that foiled his extra inches. This cabin was just as pleasant as the other one, she silently approved the soft tones of sage green, and almost as roomy. Only the one bunk was made up for use, the other, parallel one was covered by a bright travel rug and soft cushions. It made a comfortable couch, and Haydn motioned her to sit down.

  `I shan't be long.' He slid open a pair of doors underneath the other bunk, and revealed a bank of neatly filled shelves. With accustomed ease he jack-knifed his long frame into the space between the bunks and emptied the contents on to the cover.

  `That's the lot.' He checked the empty shelves with a quick eye. 'Now for the suitcase.' He spun round on the balls of his feet without bothering to straighten up. 'Swing your legs up on to the bunk,' he bade her, and when she hesitated, added drily, 'There's no ulterior motive, I assure you. I simply want to get my suitcase out from the locker underneath where you're sitting, and your legs, pretty as they are, happen to be in the way.' Her colour rose at his amused tone, and she swung her feet out of the way and up on to the travel rug. The movement brought her out of balance with the tilt of the boat, and after a second during which her taut back muscles screamed for relief, she gave way and leaned back on her elbow, and watched him flick open the second lot of sliding doors.

  He reached into the cupboard underneath the bunk and withdrew a lightweight travelling case. Lee noticed the motif of a famous maker discreetly adorning the lid, and with a precision and economy of movement that told her he was accustomed to doing his own packing, Haydn laid in small piles of clothing, and shaving tackle. He must have borrowed a razor from Jon this morning. Without thinking, she glanced at his chin. It was clean-shaven, as well as uncompromisingly square.

  `Jon lent me his spare.' He saw her look and divined her thoughts, and a grin flicked his lips as she dropped her eyes hastily. 'Ready?' He brought them back to his face again as he added sweaters to the top of the pile in the case and

  clicked the lid shut. He left it on top of the other bunk, then turned round and stood looking down at her, and instinctively she tensed. His grin deepened, his eyes lighting with twin imps of laughter that mocked her embarrassment.

  `I admit I'm sorely tempted,he murmured, and his tone flicked the flags of colour to full mast in her already hot cheeks, 'but unfortunately the tide's due to turn, and I've no desire to be—er—distracted, and end up having to wade ashore. It would be too much of an anti-climax,' he grinned. 'You'll find it easier if you let me pull you up.' The truth of his words was self-evident when she tried to push herself upright against the tilt of the boat, and reluctantly she held out her hand, but he ignored it and putting both his hands round her waist he lifted her bodily and swung her to the floor, where he kept one hand on her to steady her until she got used to the tilt of the deck beneath her feet again. 'Let's get rid of this case,' he suggested. 'We can put it in the van, and then go and have some lunch.'

  `Nell will have it ready when we get back home,' Lee protested, and he shook his head.

  `Not for you and me, she won't,' he told her blandly. 'I told Jon I'd take you to the hotel to eat, and he said he'd warn Nell.'

  `You might have told me,' she began hotly. 'I can't go to the Royal Anchor dressed like this !'

  `Why not?' he asked her smoothly. 'They must be used to people in holiday garb strolling in off the boats for a meal. It would be different if it was evening. Anyhow, I've booked a table,' he told her with an air of finality.

  He must have telephoned the Royal Anchor before they came away from Polrewin that morning. Lee's temper rose at his cool assumption that she would be willing to fall in with his plans. She glanced at her watch. It was almost lunch time now. A hollow feeling inside her confirmed the time, and she realised with mounting annoyance that it would be of little use defying him and returning home, if Nell had been warned they were to be out. She would have to make do on a scratch meal, and she had not eaten any breakfast.

  `I hope you're not one of those people who lunch off a lettuce leaf.' Haydn settled her into a chair in a secluded corner of the large dining room at the Royal Anchor, and took his own seat opposite to her. The panoramic windows gave a perfect view of the harbour, but the sight of his crippled boat did nothing to diminish Haydn's appetite, because he promptly ordered a large lunch for both of them the moment the waiter came up.

  `We'd better drink when we've eaten.' He refused the proffered wine while they were waiting. 'You had no breakfast this morning,' he stated flatly as the waiter departed.

  Lee would have waited until she had some food inside her before having a drink anyway, but she resented Haydn assuming command of her actions. It made her feel like a schoolgirl being treated to lunch by an indulgent uncle, and she gave him a mutinous look.

  `I'm not particularly bothered anyway, and I'm not very hungry, either.' She was. She had eaten nothing since supper the night before, and that was—she counted the hours silently—heavens ! that was seventeen hours ago. No wonder her legs had felt wobbly when they came up the harbour steps. She felt quite relieved to realise that the state of her legs had nothing to do with the fact that Haydn held on to her arm and kept her close to him as they mounted to the top of the harbour wall. The relief cooled her resentment at the fact that he had ordered for her, without consulting her first, and a healthy appetite gave the lie to her denial that she was hungry. The iced melon was delicious.

  `I know you like that, at least,' Haydn redeemed himself slightly. 'The one Nell served last night was a beauty, and I noticed you enjoyed yours.'

  `Mmm, but we don't grow them for sale yet.'

  It was good to be able to relax over the meal, without the thought of the dozens of jobs waiting to be done outside. For the first time Lee realised just how unremitting the work had been since they came to Polrewin, and had a moment's pang of conscience that Jon was not having the day off too, but it was short-lived when she remembered that it was her brother's guest she was spending it with.

  She was not doing exactly as she would have liked, either. The tender chicken breasts and young vegetables, followed by a fresh fruit salad, successfully dulled the rest of her conscience, and she surfaced finally with a sigh of satisfaction.

  `I enjoyed every minute of that.' She shook her head at his offer of wine. 'I'd rather not. We'll be going soon, and I don't want to feel sleepy when I'm driving. A coffee would be nice, though.'

  `That'll suit me, too.' He looked round for the waiter, and turned in time to see a man at the far end of the room raise his hand in Lee's direction.

  `A friend of yours?' he enquired, and Lee answered rather shortly,

  `He's Vince Merrick, the proprietor's son.'

  `He's coming over. Perhaps he'll take our order for coffee,' Haydn said coolly.

  `For goodness' sake don't ask Vince to take it,' she told him, panic-stricken. Vince was very conscious of his own position in the hotel, and would not appreciate being used as a waiter.

  She got no further. The tall, fair-haired man who had waved to her from the door of the local bank yesterday strolled across the room towards them.

  `Is everything to your liking, Lee?' She hid a grin as he addressed her directly, and beyond a slight nod, ignored Haydn.

  `Fine, thanks,' she smiled up at him sweetly. 'Congratulate your chef, Vince, we've just eaten the most splendid meal.' She managed to convey from her tone that she was more grateful to the chef than to Haydn who had provided it.

  `We aim to do our best,' Vince smiled, including Haydn this time. 'Are you showing your friend the local attractions?' he quizzed, and Lee felt her cheeks grow warm at the underlying bite in his voice. As if she might be one of the attractions.... Vince was being altogether too proprietorial for her liking, she thought uncomfortably. True, she had danced with him once or twice recently at the loc
al get-togethers, and she was aware of his interest, but that

  was as far as it went, and so far as she was concerned it was not reciprocated. It did not give him the right....

  `Haydn is Jon's friend.' And that was tit for tat, she thought, for Haydn's comment to the harbourmaster, only she doubted if her definition would rankle with Haydn as his had done with her. 'And it looks as if he might be staying for the main attraction in a week's time,' she added unwillingly. 'It was Haydn's boat that was holed in the harbour last night.'

  `That big white cabin cruiser?' Vince's eyebrows rose, and the movement gave Lee a moment of satisfaction. Vince was nice enough, but there were times when he was altogether too conscious of being the son of the man who owned the Royal Anchor.

  `She won't do much cruising until she's repaired,' Haydn clipped in shortly, anger at the Sea Mist's plight still simmering beneath the surface of his voice. 'But what attraction is it that's coming in a week's time?'

  `They're holding the floral dance through the town.' Vince did not wait for Lee to answer, and she felt a flash of annoyance. Suddenly, she wished he would leave them. He had done all that politeness demanded, by coming over to speak to a guest whom he knew personally, there was no need for him to remain to talk. She became uncomfortably aware of an undercurrent between the two men. Vince, standing beside the table, tall and straight, with fair good looks, but nevertheless not as tall as Haydn, she realised. If her lunch companion got to his feet he would dwarf Vince, who underneath the professional bonhomie emanate a silent challenge, instinctively resenting the stranger on his own ground. Lee glanced at Haydn. He was leaning back casually in his chair, completely relaxed, and looking coolly amused as he surveyed the other man's face.

  `It's for the visitors' benefit, of course,' Vince went on, rather too heartily, and Haydn's smile broadened.

  `Of course,' he agreed smoothly, and went on, ignoring the kindling anger in the other man's eyes, 'I expect the festival will make it extra busy at the hotel for you. Or do you take time off yourself to join in the dancing?' he enquired softly.

  `I—er—well,' Vince had set a trap for his own feet, and walked right into it, 'I get out if I can. For the sake of our guests, you know.' Lee knew Vince had every intention of joining in the festivities in the streets, he had already asked her to partner him. She wondered now why she had re, fused. There was no reason for her to do so at the time. Just something that made her say no, and leave her options open.

  `We'll be doing the catering, of course, for the dance in the evening.' Vince had had enough of Haydn, and showed it. He turned to Lee. 'I suppose you couldn't help us out with some decent sized tomatoes, could you, Lee? All that Dunn can offer is medium sized, and he can't promise anything different. They're not much good when the staff's having to prepare dozens of salad meals.' There was a faint hint of patronage in his tone, and Lee felt her hackles rise. She opened her mouth to tell Vince that Polrewin supplied Mr Dunn—she was going to emphasise the Mister—and they had only got medium sized tomatoes as well, but Haydn interrupted before she could speak.

  `We can supply all you need.' Lee caught her breath at the 'we', anyone would think Haydn was a partner in Poirewin as well, but he silenced her with a look, and went on, `Tell us how many, and when you'd like them.'

  `I—er we ' Vince was unprepared for such a direct

  question, and obviously did not know the answer. 'I'll give you a ring, and let you know.' He stepped back and almost fell over the waiter. 'Here's your coffee. I'll let you know,' he repeated, and Lee felt almost sorry for him as he took the first excuse that offered, and retreated in evident disorder.

  `What did you have to do that for?' Somewhere she hazily remembered asking him the same question, it seemed a long time ago. She simmered in silence until the waiter was out of earshot. 'You know full well we can't supply Vince with the kind of tomatoes he wants.' Panic touched her as she stared across the table angrily. 'I'll have to go and tell him we can't....'

  `You'll do no such thing.' Haydn's tone set her back on her chair.

  `But....'

  `Lesson number one, if you're going to be a success in business,' his glance silenced her for the second time, 'never say no to a customer. Take the order, and you'll manage to supply it somehow. And on time.' He spoke with the voice of experience, and Lee watched him with growing bewilderment.

  `Tell me how,' she said at last, sarcastically. 'What do we do to the tomatoes in our greenhouses at Polrewin? Pump them up? Or drown them in fertiliser for the next week, and hope they'll grow to twice the size they're meant to?'

  `Neither.' He stirred his coffee, unperturbed. `Just leave it to me. I'll see you have a supply in plenty of time.'

  `I'm not prepared to leave it to you,' she snapped ungraciously, grasping at the reins of control which she felt desperately were slipping from her fingers into this man's over-capable hands. `I want to know exactly what's happening, and how. In case you need reminding, you're not in charge of Polrewin,' she told him tautly.

  `I am aware, and I don't need reminding.' His tone was short now, to match her own. `But if you're going to make a success of the business, as you say you want to, you'll have to learn to listen. Jon's prepared to, and you're his partner.'

  `Take orders, you mean....' She would be prepared to listen to anybody, but Haydn. She bit her lip angrily, but he ignored her comment and continued,

  `Buy a supply from one of our gardens, and re-sell as your own to the Royal Anchor,' he suggested reasonably. `One of our men is coming over with a delivery, I'll get him to put a few trays of tomatoes in the back of his vehicle for you, and hey presto! You'll have a satisfied customer on your hands, wanting more.' He leaned back in his chair with a smug look.

  `What do you expect me to do now? Clap?' Lee asked him hardly. She drew in a deep breath and tried to take control of herself, aware that she had begun to shake. 'What happens when Vince comes to us for more, and we can't supply them? Where will the satisfied customer be then?' she asked through gritted teeth.

  `Heading elsewhere, if you don't give him what he wants.' Haydn snapped upright in his chair. For goodness' sake, Lee,' he leaned across the table and covered her hand with his, gripping her forcefully in an effort to get through to her, 'don't let an opportunity like this go to the opposition. With a hotel of this size to supply, you'll have a winter outlet for your stock long after all the caravanners have gone home. They'll want flowers for ballroom decorations as well. Presumably they hold balls in this place in the winter?' He was sarcastic in his turn.

  `We're not exactly the capital, but we do have a decent social life here,' she hit back at him, and he relaxed into his chair again and loosed her hand.

  `Then use it for business as well as fun,' he urged her. 'If the floral dance is going to end up with a ball here, think of the opportunity for floral decorations. It would be a priceless advert for Polrewin, and more than likely lead to other orders. Presumably there'll be civic dignitaries, and all the VIPs here to see.'

  `We already have the order for the floral decorations, and I'm bothered enough about how to get sufficient flowers to satisfy them, let alone promising tomatoes we haven't even got.' Suddenly Lee felt close to tears. 'We're committed to decorating a float to add to the procession as well.'

  `Then decorate it,' Haydn told her forcefully. 'Use it as an advertisement for Polrewin. It's a golden opportunity.'

  `How? I don't even know where we're going to get the flowers from,' she wailed, her worry of the last week surfacing suddenly. She had not even confided it to Jon.

  `Surely you had some idea, when you agreed to decorate the float?' He looked at her with a puzzled frown.

  But I didn't agree, that's just the trouble. Vince is on the festival committee and he simply took it for granted, and put our name down on the list, and if we back out there'll be only thirteen floats instead of fourteen, and that's an unlucky number....' Her eyes were over-bright, and she looked away from Haydn and blinked hard. Vince had d
one it for her, as a favour. Or had he done it because he hoped to win her favour? A sort of subtle blackmail? Suddenly she did not feel sure of anything anymore.

  `It'll be unlucky for Polrewin if you let them down,' Haydn told her forcefully, and Lee had an odd feeling that he knew exactly why Vince had done this thing. 'I'll tell you what,' he reached out for her hand again, and this time his clasp felt strong and reassuring, 'why not use the daisy motif on top of your van as your trademark?'

  `It looks silly.' She sniffed mournfully.

  `No sillier than our little piper, with his kilt and his bagpipes,' Haydn said brusquely. 'It's just a play on our name. Have you thought what kind of float you're going to have?' he brought her back to the main question.

  `There hasn't been time,' Lee admitted in a small voice. `There always seems so much to do.'

  `Then do something simple. Why not cover the float in daisies—white ones, with a bright yellow centre, like the one on the top of your van. Then in the middle of the float, on a dais, set a big, upright daisy, with an arch of the petals round a sort of chair—throne if you like—and you sit in the middle in that yellow dress and sandals you had on last night, and be the centre of the flower? How does that sound?' he asked triumphantly.

  `Splendid !' For a moment even Lee was carried away by his enthusiasm. 'We could pick out the name of Polrewin in coloured petals round the side of the float,' she agreed eagerly, 'it would tell the world we're back in action again as a flower farm. But we'd need stacks of daisies.' Her face fell. 'We simply haven't got that many marguerites.' She came back to earth with a bump, and a sick feeling of disappointment It had all sounded so wonderful. Just for a minute, she had hoped....

  The flowers will be no trouble. I know where I can lay my hands on all you're likely to need,' Haydn said confidently.