`We'll take it now,' Haydn decided, and Lee's face set mutinously.
`I'm not changed.'
`You can soon remedy that,' his look was unrelenting. `I'll be a few minutes getting my camera, it won't take you all that long to slip into your dress.'
`Why not take a snap of us all?' Jon asked. 'It's Polrewin's first festival. It'll be a sort of landmark, really, won't it? I'll go and get Nell and Ben.'
He departed on his errand, and Haydn looked straight across at Lee, his tawny eyes gimlet-like, pinning her to the spot.
`Well?' he queried in a hard voice, and waited.
`I'll do it—but only to please Jon,' she said defensively.
`That's what I'm doing it for. Remember?' he taunted, then turned his back on her and strode into the house to get his camera.
Lee could not help being a long time changing. Her fingers trembled, and fumbled, and refused to undo buttons, and the zip on the back of her yellow dress caught on a thread of material, and her blurred vision could not sort out how to undo it. She could not fight any longer, she thought wretchedly, wondering if anyone else had ever felt as mixed up as she did now. She loved Haydn, and hated him at the same time. She had heard marriage described as a love–hate relationship, and now she knew what it meant. Only she was not married to Haydn, and was not likely to be; he had made his opinion of her perfectly clear. She hastily scrubbed a towel across her face and eyes. No matter how she felt, she must not let it show in front of him, or the camera. The thought that her feelings might come across on the photograph pinned a smile on her face as she went downstairs, and joined the others by the float which Jon had drawn up ready on the gravel, with the house and the glasshouses in the background. Even the two dogs were there.
`We've rigged up a chimney on the Mini.' It looked a passable imitation of a child's toy engine, and among the fantasy atmosphere of the carnival it would do well enough. `What are you going to sit on up there?' Jon regarded the
float with a doubtful eye. 'It'll have to be something fairly firm, remember you'll be moving.'
`I thought one of the kitchen chairs.' Haydn returned with his camera, and one of the chairs in question. 'The legs are fairly widely spaced, and they'll hold the chair steady, and we'll not be going at any great speed once we're actually in the procession.' He swung the chair up on to the float, shuffled it until he was satisfied it was in the right place, and said to Lee, 'Try it.' He left it to Jon to give her a helping hand on to the float, while he backed off, adjusting his camera and watching through the viewfinder.
`Let's try the one with all of you on it, first,' he suggested, and Lee sat back resignedly while her brother shepherded Nell and Ben and the two dogs into place, then discovered he was out of focus himself when he joined them. More shuffling took place, and Lee lost interest. One of the daisies over her head had become loose, and she blew at it experimentally. It swung, and loosened further still, and dropped lower, covering part of her face. She sat further back in the chair, and Haydn backed off again, peering through the viewfinder.
`Do you have to twiddle that daisy in front of you?' he asked, raising his head and glaring at Lee irritably.
`I'm not twiddling anything.' She sat virtuously with both hands clasped in her lap, and looked across at him serenely. 'It's come loose, I think It's one you put
She stifled a desire to laugh as he lowered his camera and strode back towards the float. He reached up and plucked the daisy out with an impatient hand. 'Sit still,' he snapped. She did not know whether he spoke to herself or to Bandy, who showed an untimely desire to scratch one ear. The dog gave him a reproachful look from behind his shaggy curtain of hair, and obediently subsided.
`If he thinks I'm going to do the same, he's mistaken.' The dog's meek submissiveness sparked rebellion in Lee. First Jon did as Haydn said, then the dogs.... If he was much longer fiddling with his camera, she decided impatiently, she would get down off the float and leave him to it.
`That's just about right.' Did he sense his subjects were
beginning to fidget? He stopped backing away and turning levers, and looked up from the viewfinder. 'Ready?' He still had the daisy in his fingers. He looked down at it for a moment, as if reluctant to throw it away, but patently he did not want to hold it and operate the camera shutter at the same time, its presence would make the movement awkward, and could spoil the picture. He took the only alternative, and thrust it behind his ear.
Lee giggled—she could not help it. The delicate petals looked positively embarrassed at their unexpected sitting. Her chuckle escaped before she could stop it, clear and uninhibited, and sympathetic grins spread across the faces of the others.
`That's fine, it should make a good picture.' Haydn looked up, and seeing the grins still in place he asked, puzzled, 'What's the matter?'
`The daisies look better on the float than on you,' Jon laughed. 'Well, if you've finished with getting our family picture, I've got some jobs to do. Coming, Ben?'
`Aye.' Ben cast a speculative look at the float. 'You'll be keeping them daisies wet, I expect? It looks like being hot again tomorrow.'
`The backing we've put them into holds water,' Haydn told him. 'I must try and remember to give them an extra spray first thing tomorrow morning.'
`I should if I were you,' Ben nodded. "Twould be a pity to see them fade half way through the day, after all the trouble you've been to.'
`Sit where you are, I want one more, with just you sat in the back.' Haydn's look glinted up at Lee as she stirred in her chair. 'Keep a smile on your face,' he commanded her.
`That should be easy-enough if you put the daisy back behind your ear,' she taunted him, and his lips tightened. I've made him angry now, she thought, but she did not care. He was getting a taste of his own medicine, and it served him right. But she smiled just the same as he clicked the shutter, so that his photograph should come out well.
`Perhaps it's as well you took the picture tonight, in case the daisies do fade before tomorrow,' she commented, and slid down from the trailer, ignoring his helping hand.
`I'll make sure they don't,' he retorted, and his eyes sparkled angrily, 'even if I have to soak them.' And he was gone before she realised if he did, indeed, soak them, she would have to endure a very damp ride on the following day.
CHAPTER NINE
LEE was up at the crack of dawn the next morning, but Haydn was before her. His eyes flicked over her jeans and shirt as she came downstairs.
`It isn't time to change yet,' she said defensively, before he could speak. 'The procession doesn't start until two, and I've got to decorate the ballroom at the Royal Anchor first, as well as see to the morning deliveries.'
`I know. I'm coming with you.'
`I don't....' She started to say 'I don't want you,' but the words died in her throat, because they weren't true. Perhaps he wanted to come with her so as to pay another visit to the boatyard. He had not said what he went there for the day before, but he obviously wanted them to do something else to the Sea Mist. The thought of his boat made her heart contract. It would take him away from Polrewin —away from herself, because once the festival was over there would be no need for him to remain. After that, his contact would be a purely business one, with her brother. Lee did not delude herself that Haydn would want to contact her. She had spent most of the previous night coming to terms with the knowledge, which was one of the reasons why she was up at the crack of dawn, with the decision formed in her mind that the instant Jon was able to cope with Polrewin singlehanded, she would go back to her own career. It would effectively remove her from any danger of bumping into Haydn accidentally if he should decide to pay a visit to her brother, whether socially or on business. The thought of continued contact with him, however casual, was more than she could bear.
`I don't expect the van's loaded yet,' she changed her words hastily.
`The tomatoes and salads are already in it, Jon ran the van out and loaded them straight away to save time. The strawberries and
the big tomatoes are coming over on the
early boat, so they'll be here any minute now.'
`We'll have to make the deliveries first, and come back for the flowers for the Royal Anchor.'
Haydn came with her on both journeys, but he did not go to the boatyard. He helped her cope with the early deliveries, then came back in the van without comment, and Lee refused to show her curiosity. There was too much to do, and the moment the van was parked back on the gravel at Polrewin she had the doors open ready to receive the consignment of gladioli, fuchsias, hydrangeas and cinerarias that she had planned for the display at the hotel.
`I didn't think we'd have enough.' She viewed the crowded rear of the van with something approaching dismay. 'There won't be room for the gladioli in here, they'll get crushed, and I didn't want to make another journey.'
`I'll hold them in the front, with me,' Haydn offered. `You really need a bigger van,' he commented.
For goodness' sake, don't make any more suggestions that cost money !' Lee lost patience. If he had stayed at Polrewin instead of coming with her, she could have tucked the boxes of gladioli in the front passenger seat, and her problems would have been solved.
`I don't mean right away,' Haydn said mildly. 'You need to plan long-term.'
`And don't preach, either,' Lee snapped. 'I'm not in the mood for it. It's too early in the morning.'
`And you haven't bothered to eat any breakfast,' Haydn prophesied correctly. 'It's enough to sour anyone's temper.'
`My temper's not sour !' Lee's voice rose, and she checked herself hastily. If she started like this, she would never get through the day, she thought desperately. 'Come on, if you're coming.' She slammed the driving door behind her and settled herself behind the wheel with an angry wriggle. 'The boatyard probably won't have the doors open yet, it isn't eight o'clock.'
`I don't want to go to the boatyard.'
`Then why....' She ground the gears in a way that made Haydn wince, and frightened her into silence. She could not afford expensive repairs to the Mini. With infinite care she slipped the gear lever over smoothly this time, and
pointed the van out of the drive. If she was not careful her own bad mood would cost her more in the long run than any of Haydn's suggestions for improving Polrewin.
`You take the boxes of gladioli indoors, I'll follow with the rest,' Haydn told her when they drew to a halt outside the Royal Anchor. The other flowers were in the form of pot plants, and heavy, and she did not stop to argue. She should have thanked him, because she could not have managed them on her own, but she did not do that either. She did not feel she had got anything to thank Haydn for. He was responsible for her present unenviable state of mind. She was hopelessly in love with him, and irrationally she blamed him for it—blamed him for coming to Polrewin in the first place. If he had stayed away, she would have remained at peace with herself, and able to concentrate on the affairs of the flower farm without distraction.
She filled containers and placed the gladioli, then watched as Haydn slid tubs of fuchsias and hydrangeas into place. He seemed to have-an instinctive sense of where they should go, and she placed her own containers among them, working with him without the need of words. Yellow against dark purple, pale pink against blue. She stepped back to admire the effect, and he paused with her.
`We'll mass the cinerarias in front to hide the containers, then we've finished.' He picked up a pot of the small daisy blooms, and Lee looked from it to him. The ginger-tan of the blooms was almost the same colour as his hair.
`We match.' He read her thoughts and grinned cheerfully, and her spirits lightened. If only they could stay civil to one another throughout the day.... 'We're well on time,' he consulted his watch. 'How about staying on at the hotel and eating some breakfast? One of the chef's omelettes would go down well.'
`I'll prepare them myself.' The chef popped his head round the door at that moment to see how the decorations were progressing, and decided for Lee, and she gave in with a shrug. She was hungry, it was a long time to lunch, and she had need of her energy today. Disregarding her workmanlike garb, she took her seat beside Haydn in the dining room, and did full justice to a substantial breakfast.
From somewhere the chef had conjured up small button mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, and curls of smoked bacon to go with the omelettes, and it tasted like nectar in the cool room, with the breeze blowing through the open window from the harbour. The Sea Mist rode easily on the rising tide, and Lee averted her eyes. She did not want to look at the thing that would shortly take Haydn away, and she felt relieved when their meal was over, and they were on their way back to Polrewin, and there were the last-minute jobs to see to, which gave her no time to think.
`You'd better be off upstairs, and change.' Nell hastened her on her way. 'It's gone one o'clock now, and you don't want to hurry in this heat.'
The temperature was rising to record heights, and her acid yellow dress felt cool and fresh. It was newly laundered and crisp, and in spite of her misgivings she felt a rising expectancy as she ran downstairs. Haydn gave her a nod that could have signified approval, but he did not actually say she looked nice, and she felt a sharp prick of disappointment.
`Let's go.' He gave a glance at his watch which could have been silent criticism, and she bridled.
`We're in good time,' she defended herself automatically. `I didn't say we weren't.' He picked up the keys of the Mini. 'I'll drive, as we're pulling the float.'
Lee did not argue. She did not want to drive, because she had no experience of towing, and the thought of pulling the float through steep, narrow streets packed with a carnival crowd unnerved her. Almost as much as Haydn's aloof manner did, she thought ruefully. Since the disastrous episode beside the field of daisies, they had hardly exchanged a civil word to one another.
`Ride in the van with me, going down.' He steered her towards the passenger door of the Mini.
`I don't ...' he did not wait to hear the rest of her sentence, 'don't think we'll be late.' He frowned, and gave an impatient gesture with his hand.
`You never want to do what I suggest.'
That was because he had not suggested the right thing. If he suggested 'marry me' she would comply like a shot.
She hesitated momentarily, torn between a rebellious desire to defy him and mount the float whatever he said, or take the opportunity to ride with him in the front of the Mini, alone, for what would probably be the last time.
For once, you'll do as I say. Get in.' He gestured towards the passenger door. 'We'll be travelling fast until we reach Tarmouth, and the float will rock at speed. It won't be safe for you to ride on.'
He held the door open for her and waited, openly impatient. And she got in. His tone, and his look, promised that if she did not, he would probably either put her there, or go without her.
She settled back and watched him manipulate the controls. His fingers were long, and brown, and slender. Not plump and hot and damp, like Vince's. And they slipped the gear lever into place and made a perfect take-off, despite the load they dragged behind them. Lee could not have done it so smoothly herself. She twisted round in her seat and had a look at the float. It seemed to be travelling lightly enough, and it did not rock all that much. There was no reason why she should not have travelled on it, if she had wanted to. Did he insist on her travelling in the front of the van merely to have his own way? She forgot the question when he spoke.
`The festival seems to have attracted a good crowd.'
`They all seem to have congregated in the one street we want to go up.' She meant 'up' literally. The cobbled lane leading to the market place where they were to assemble was steep, and packed with humanity. It looked more like a screen version of an Eastern market place than a side street in Tarmouth, and she regarded it in consternation.
`We'll never make it in time, if we've got to fight our way through this crush!'
`We shall.' He spoke confidently.
`How?' Even Haydn could not make a way through
the solid block of people confronting them.
`Inch by inch, if necessary.'
As usual he was right. The crowd parted good-humouredly, and closed in behind them again, and they got through. Lee felt sure they would not have done so had
she been driving, the task of keeping the Mini and trailer moving on the steep gradient without stalling the engine made her blanch. She kept the admission to herself, and waited until they were drawn into line with the other floats in the market place, and jumped down to inspect them.
`We might as well stretch our legs while we can.' Haydn led her away from their own float, along the line of the others. 'We're not due to start for a quarter of an hour, yet, we're sixth in the line.'
`A very creditable entry. All the floats are of a very high standard.'
Need Vince sound quite so condescending? Lee wondered, suddenly irritable. He was marshalling the floats, and she regarded him with a dislike almost as strong as Haydn's. And to think I nearly accepted his invitation to be his partner, she thought incredulously.
'There's a lot of talent around,' Haydn agreed blandly.
`It's almost time to go.' Lee grabbed Haydn's arm. She did not feel she could stand any more verbal warfare between the two men. Not now.
`Just follow the coloured arrows.' Vince was determined to have the last word.
`I know. The pink ones.' Haydn's expression showed clearly his opinion of fluorescent pink.
`Come on!' Lee almost dragged him to the Mini. Vince looked pointedly at her hand clutching Haydn's sleeve, but she did not care. She felt like a bone being wrangled over by two dogs, neither of which really wanted it. 'Get in and start the engine,' she implored him, and his lips twitched upwards as he complied. Not to please her, she felt certain.
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