`But think of the expense.' Polrewin could not afford costly advertisements. Lee shook her head. 'We'll have to forget it for this year. I doubt Jon would agree, anyway.'
`I'll talk to Jon. A lot of our business is done on credit anyway, and I know his word is good,' he said obliquely. 'Stay and finish your coffee while I make a phone call. I'll be back in a moment.' And he was gone. And without his
forceful presence at the table, all Lee's doubts returned with full force. What would Jon say? Just as they were getting their heads above water financially, and things were beginning to run more smoothly, it seemed little short of madness to put their bank balance in the red again over a one-day flower festival, even for the sake of the advertisement Their produce should be advertisement enough, for the time being anyway. They supplied good quality, and regularly. But only to Mr Dunn, her conscience reminded her. Only to the one outlet. She shrugged the thought away impatiently. Haydn was beginning to brainwash her, as well as Jon.
`Having trouble with the boy-friend?'
She looked up and realised Vince had strolled across and was standing by her table again. Hurriedly she wiped the frown from her forehead, but it was too late to prevent him seeing her preoccupation.
`I told you, he's Jon's friend, not mine,' she said coldly. It was odd, she thought, her gaze suddenly critical, how she had thought Vince quite handsome until now. She tilted her head back and looked at him with new eyes, seeing, for the first time, not only the fair, wavy hair and bright blue eyes, but the spoilt, rather petulant mouth, that for some reason she had not noticed before. A spiteful mouth. The thought pricked her. She hoped he would not cancel the order for the tomatoes—and wondered what made her hope that, when a few minutes before she had been going to cancel it herself.
`I've decided we'll want about ten trays of tomatoes.' Vince was speaking, and she struggled out of the maze of her own thoughts to listen.
He's been to see the chef, and found out how many tomatoes they're likely to want, Lee thought unkindly. Vince was second in command at the hotel, under his father, and he should have known himself.
`The chef said he thought you supplied Dunn with all his stock. I didn't know you grew two types of tomatoes?' Vince's tone was suspicious, and Lee felt in a quandary. She did not want to lie, but....
Polrewin grows all sorts of things.' Haydn saved her.
He returned to the table and jack-knifed himself back into his chair, and reached for his cup of coffee, which was by now turning cold. 'Pity about those melons,' he told Lee urbanely, 'if they weren't all committed I'd have liked to take a consignment back with me. Oh, nothing against your melon,' he turned to Vince as if only just realising he was there, and listening. 'I assure you it was delicious. Only these,' he gave a sort of dreamy smile, as if he was savouring something extra special, 'they're smaller, maybe,' he had the air of a connoisseur, Lee thought, amazed, 'but the quality of the flesh, and the flavour—it's out of this world.'
`We use melons here, you've just eaten one.' Vince scowled.
`Like I said, all Polrewin's supply is committed,' Haydn went on regretfully as if he had not spoken. 'Remember, I'm first in the queue when you have any to spare,' he told the bewildered Lee. Now, if you're ready?' He stood up, and perforce Vince had to back away to leave Lee room to do the same. 'Thanks for the meal,' Haydn said politely. `A pity about the melon,' he added regretfully, 'but the imported ones are all much alike, aren't they?' and he ushered a dazed Lee out into the sunshine, and back along the harbour wall.
`What do you mean about our melons all being committed?' She walked beside him because she had no option, his hand was firmly over her arm, too firmly to pull away without an undignified struggle, but it allowed her enough freedom to twist round and face him. 'We've only got a few plants, to see if they'd grow well enough, and we're using the fruits ourselves.'
`That's what I mean,' Haydn said smoothly, 'they're all committed. But next season round, young Vince will remember, and want some. And you'll have a customer for melons as well.'
`You're impossible !' she gasped, torn between indignation and laughter. 'And anyway, he's not "young" Vince. He's as old as you are,' she hazarded a guess.
`Thirty next birthday?' Laughter lines creased round his eyes. 'Well, maybe,' he looked doubtful, and Lee could understand why. Vince was twenty-eight, which was only
two years younger than the age Haydn admitted to, maybe less if he had only just had his birthday for this year, but setting the two men together Vince appeared immeasurably younger. Immature was the word that crossed her mind, and she stole a glance at her companion. Vince's jaw was soft and rounded. Indecisive, and already showing signs of running to fat. She caught her breath in surprise. It was something she had not noticed before. The lean, square, determined-looking jaw above her head was anything but indecisive, and there was not a hint of superfluous flesh blurring the firm outline, below the well cut lips.
`I've ordered the flowers,' the lips were speaking, and Lee grasped at her thoughts for the second time to force herself to listen. 'They'll be along with the tomatoes, in plenty of time for the festival.'
Between Haydn and Vince, she thought dazedly, she felt as if she was being pushed along on a tidal wave, and helpless to swim against it. 'What about the bill?' she asked weakly, and he squeezed her hand in a reassuring grip.
`I'll see Jon about that,' he said, as if that closed the matter.
It was only afterwards that she remembered, with a sick feeling of dismay, what he had said about credit.
`A lot of our business is done on credit anyway....'
So that meant she and Jon would be in debt to Haydn's firm. She shook her hand free from his on the pretext of searching for her ignition key, trying to fight off a suffocating feeling of claustrophobia. It was as if some giant grab was reaching out and taking hold of herself and Jon, and their beloved Polrewin, and dragging them into a crusher. And she felt helpless to do anything to prevent it.
CHAPTER FOUR
`WE'RE stuck with him now, for at least a week.' Lee sought out her brother the moment they returned to Polrewin.
`That's fine.' Jon showed not the least sign of distress. `He'll be able to stay and join in the flower festival,' he said cheerfully. `I'm sorry about his boat, of course, but at least it didn't sink, and Haydn's not likely to worry about the cost of the repairs.' He continued to grade tomatoes into trays with deft, automatic movements that swiftly reduced the pile in front of him.
`It's us that'll be worrying about the cost,' Lee pointed out ungrammatically, and he turned then, and gave her his full attention.
`We can afford to feed him, surely?' Jon protested. 'We're in the black with the bank now, for the first time,' he reminded her.
`We shall soon be right back in the red again,' she told him grimly. 'Jon, I'm worried.' It all came out in a flood—all about Vince, and the float for the festival. The tomatoes, and the daisies, and doing business on credit. 'Haydn just took over. Like a—a---sort of steamroller,' she finished unhappily, 'and when I asked him about the bill he said he'd discuss it with you.' Her lips trembled. She could not help it.
`Whatever Haydn's doing will be fine with me.' Jon was not in the least perturbed. 'I'll have a word with him when I've finished in here.'
`Well, it's not fine by me !' Angry colour stained Lee's cheeks, and her lips set in a thin line. 'Just as we're out of debt and independent again, we're going right back to where we started, and all to please a casual visitor.'
`He's not exactly a casual visitor, Lee. Haydn does know what he's doing in his trade,' Jon pointed out reasonably. `Better than we do, you know that.'
`Not when what he's doing is going to put us back into
debt again, and to him of all people,' Lee argued stormily, and her brother burst out laughing.
`Simmer down,' he grinned. 'Because you two got off on the wrong foot, there's no need to carry on a vendetta against him. You make him sound as if he's got horns and a tail! As for
being in debt, I'd just as soon owe Haydn money as the bank,' he said seriously.
`You won't owe me much. Not anything, in fact, when the hotel pays up.' Haydn strolled through the glasshouse door and joined them. 'I've been doing some figuring here,' he produced a sheet of paper from his pocket. 'Lee told you about the tomatoes?' and at Jon's nod, 'You can have ten trays from us at this,' he ran his finger along a line to a figure at the end, 'if you let the Royal Anchor have them for this,' he pointed to another figure, 'that'll leave you with a nice profit, and there'll be no transport costs because our man's coming to the mainland anyway.'
`We don't want charity,' Lee snapped, and he turned and surveyed her with a cool stare.
`I'm not offering you charity,' he stated flatly. 'So far as I'm concerned, this is purely a business arrangement. It wouldn't pay us to bring small amounts of produce to the mainland, not even for a flower festival, we should have to charge an uneconomic price to get the business, but you're already here, and there could be several outlets through Polrewin, which would make it profitable for all of us, the customer included.'
`You mean use Polrewin as a sort of distribution centre?' Jon asked with obvious interest. 'It makes sense, if you supply what we can't.'
`We could both give something to the other,' Haydn pushed his advantage, talking to Jon and ignoring Lee, and her fury rose at his calm dismissal. She was an equal partner with her brother.... 'It would give you a ready supply until you can get your own glasshouses into full production. You said you wanted to expand the area under glass.'
`We do, we want at least two more houses,' Jon agreed, `more if it looks like paying well, but we'll have to wait
until we've enough pennies for those,' he admitted ruefully.
`You'll get the pennies quicker with a broader market,' Haydn insisted, and Jon nodded agreement.
`And put ourselves hopelessly in debt—in your debt—at the same time,' Lee ground out. 'And what happens when we've got our glasshouses going?' she persisted. 'You'll still want to distribute your crops, which will leave ours a glut on the market.'
`Hardly, from a place the size of Polrewin.' She did not know whether Haydn was being offensive, or patronising, or both, she thought angrily. 'And as for our produce, we could easily divert the small amount you take to one of the other markets,' he added easily, as if the total quantity Polrewin could take was merely a drop in the ocean to a supplier the size of Scotts. Honesty bade Lee admit that it probably was, but she was in no mood to be honest about anything Haydn said, just now.
`Jon and I will have to discuss it, before we come to any decisions,' she told him flatly, obliquely reminding him that even if he chose to ignore it, she was still her brother's partner, and neither one could do anything without the other's agreement.
`Naturally,' Haydn returned smoothly, and Lee bit her lip, taken aback by his sudden agreement, where she expected opposition. She stifled the defensive words that were already on her lips.
`I'm going to help Nell.' She turned swiftly and left the two men alone. If she remained in Haydn's vicinity for much longer, she thought wrathfully, she would explode. There was nothing predictable about the man, except that he could always be relied on to do the unexpected.
`There isn't anything to do in here, Miss Lee.' Nell shooed her determinedly out of the kitchen. 'I've done all the baking for the next day or two. You go off and have the rest of the day to yourself. It's high time you had a break.'
`I'll see if the dogs want my company.' Nobody else seemed to, she thought crossly, and wandered disconsolately outside and sat on the doorstep. It was hot underneath her from the sun, and she leaned back against the
warmth of the house wall behind her. It felt strange, having nothing to do. The last few months had been too busy even for hobbies, and at night she was usually so tired she was glad to simply eat her supper and drop into bed. It was unexpectedly difficult to have nothing to do at a moment's notice. The hours until the evening meal stretched alarmingly long, and empty She reached out her hand and rubbed Bandy's ears, and the shaggy little mongrel thumped his tail on the gravel and panted a welcome.
`A swim would cool you down.'
The idea took root. Lee was almost as hot as the dogs, and it was an ideal opportunity. She ran upstairs to her bedroom and popped on a brief white bathing costume under her slacks, then ran down the back stairs buttoning her shirt. She did not want to bump into Haydn and Jon and explain where she was going. She did not want them to come with her. Suddenly—urgently—she wanted to be on her own.
`Don't swim out too far.' Nell came through the door and her sharp eyes took in the white bra top of the bathing suit.
`I won't,' Lee promised, and hastily did up the last button of her shirt to cover up in case she met the men, and it betrayed her destination. 'I'm taking the dogs with me. Come on, you two.' At least they did not need a second invitation, she thought, dodging their excited cavorting. `Hush ! Not so much noise? She quietened their exuberance, and feeling a bit like a conspirator she slipped through the wicket gate furthest from the greenhouses, and dropped into the steep narrow lane that ran to the nearest cove. Her lack of inches ensured that she was hidden by the wealth of tangled hedgerow, and she paused for a moment to pluck a sprig of honeysuckle from the riot of perfumed greenery above her before she ran on after the two dogs, glorying in her stolen freedom.
The cove was empty when she got to it. It was too far away from Tarmouth to be known, let alone popular, and it was unusual even at the height of ;he holiday season to find anybody there. Lee dropped on to a flat grey table of rock and kicked off her shoes. The dogs ran on, straight down to the water's edge, and she flung them a pebble to keep them
happy until she could join them. With a quick shake she straightened her jeans and shirt and folded them over her shoes, and ran after them. The beach was sandy here, warm and dry under her toes, and the sun felt warm on her back. Petty irritations vanished. Irritations like Vince, and Hadyn. She paddled happily in the shallows, getting used to the temperature of the water. The dogs joined her, splashing wildly, and she splashed them back, and with a gay laugh she gave herself up to the water, and floated happily on her back, idly watching a drifting gull silver silhouetted against the arcing blue.
The dogs splashed out to join her, demanding she share their game, until their attention was distracted by a piece of driftwood, and they made a dive for it, and wrangled happily for possession, chasing one another in and out of the water with noisy enjoyment, until they flopped exhausted like two wet rag rugs on to the sand to think up something else to play with.
Lee did not remember when she lost the drifting seagull. She turned on her back again when the dogs left her, and floated lazily, and when she closed her eyes it was still there, its graceful soaring flight like silent music accompanying the caress of the waves. She opened her lids in protest when the sun went in, and frowned, puzzled, wondering where the shadow came from that lay across her, but not across the rest of the water. She righted herself with a quick flip, and looked up, seeking the cause. Her hair dripped in a wet cap flattened to her head, and she shook it back out of her eyes, sending a tiny shower of drops across her shoulder.
`Where did you come from?' she enquired coldly.
She had not heard him come. He must have walked through the shallows withthe same silent, catlike tread he used to come ashore from his boat, and she saw to her chagrin that according to Haydn he was still standing in the shallows. The water, that reached nearly to her own shoulders, barely came up to his waist. She could clearly see the soft sage green of his swimming trunks not far below the surface. They were the same shade of green as the upholstery in his sleeping cabin, which confirmed her guess
that he had had a hand in choosing the colour scheme.
`Nell told me you'd come for a swim.' His teeth flashed white in his brown face. `Jon's already had one dip today, and he didn't want another, so I thought I'd come and keep you company.'
`I've got
Bandy and Jet.' She told him without actually saying so that they were all the company she needed.
`They're busy playing tug-of-war with some seaweed.' He bent his knees and slipped full length into the water beside her, moving with the sinuous grace of controlled power, his brown body seal-like in its easy movement that betrayed the water as his second element.
She turned on her face away from him, uneasily conscious of his closeness, of his lithe strength, restrained, as a rider restrains a high-mettled horse, to keep an easy pace beside her as she swam. The distorting effect of the water accentuated the length and slimness of his body, moving alongside her, and his tawny mane, like her own hair, lay wet and flat against his head, giving it a clear-cut, sculptured look. She glanced sideways at him as she swam, thinking that this must have been how the old legends of seal man and seal maid had begun. Aware of him, as she did not want to be aware....
`Race you to the point.' He would easily outstrip her, she knew, but his speed would remove him from her side and give her time to bring under control the sudden hard beating of her heart, that had nothing to do with the exercise, as the tingling of her skin had nothing to do with either the sun or the salt water. It was as if her every nerve end saw him there, even when her eyes were turned the other way, and she ducked under the surface and swam submerged for a space. She could not hide under the water for ever. She had to come up for breath, and when she surfaced Haydn was ahead of her, swimming strongly towards the point about fifty yards distant.
The water seemed colder further out in the bay, reminding her that it was still only early summer; the green depths had not yet had time to warm like the sun-pierced shallows covering the sands. The coldness was pleasant at first, invigorating, lapping her body with a cool embrace
that helped to calm her heightened nerves, and she kept a leisurely pace behind Haydn, unwilling to catch him up, even if she could. He swam with swift, sure strokes that cleft the water like an arrow, straight for the point of rock ahead.
The Vital Spark Page 7
