`I'll help you on to the float.'
`I can get on by myself. For goodness' sake, stay where you are,' she said desperately. If he got out.... She could see Vince hovering, and she slipped round to the back of the float from the opposite side, pretending not to see him hasten towards her to help her up. She grabbed the struts that held the daisy in place and hauled herself on to the float. Haydn must have been watching through the mirror, because the moment she was safely installed he started the van moving before Vince could catch up. Lee breathed a
sigh of relief. She did not want Vince to start asking her to partner him again.
The float gathered speed, and Vince did not try to catch it up—she guessed he was too out of condition to try. He just stood still and scowled after them, and she turned her attention to settling herself into place. The chair legs were widely spaced and held it steady, and she gave a sigh of relief. They were off at last. For the next hour, at least, she could sit down and be on her own. It seemed a silly thing to think, with all the crowds closing in around the floats, but with Haydn driving, and Vince organising, she would be isolated on the float with her thoughts, and be able to enjoy the spectacle in peace. They reached the exit from the market place, and turned into the street, where they were greeted with a cheer from the first of the crowds. Lee waved back to them, her spirits lifting, and prepared to enjoy herself. The chair beckoned, and she sat down—and immediately sprang to her feet with a furious exclamation.
`Of all the beastly, spiteful tricks !'
The back of her dress was soaked from the drips of water collected in the chair seat. She felt it seep wetly through her slip and pants, right to her skin. It must look unthinkable.... Hastily she turned her back into the daisy, and her face to the street. She would have to stand up; there was no help for it. Haydn must have got the hose and drenched the float just before they came away. Her eyes flashed angrily. He knew if he soaked it, the backing would drip all over her. No wonder he had insisted on her riding in the van with him on the way down, so that she would not find out, and refuse to ride on it. He steered her away from the float when they drew up in the market place, too, to make sure she remained ignorant of what was in store for her until it was too late to do anything about it. She could not jump off the float. It was not going very fast, but the speed was sufficient to make baling out hazardous.
`I'm not going to risk a broken ankle for Haydn, he's not worth it,' she fumed. There was no way of attracting his attention to demand he stop the van. It was not as if they were on a lorry, and the outfit was all in one piece, so to speak. The float was quite separate from the Mini, and he
would probably ignore her anyway if she called out. It was unthinkable to ask for help from the crowd which greeted their arrival on the street. Her predicament would be one more amusement to add to the carnival so far as they were concerned. It might even end up in the local paper....
She gritted her teeth and forced a smile as the crowd began to throw coins. Belatedly she remembered the event was in aid of beleagured local charities, and added a wave to the smile. Some wag in the crowd chanted 'Daisy, daisy, give me your answer do,' and raised a general laugh, and on impulse Lee plucked a daisy from the float and flung it towards the singer. It was rewarded by a further shower of coins. She caught some, and scraped the others into a heap with her foot, muttering grimly,
`Haydn will get an answer from me when I see him!'
No doubt he thought it was a huge joke, soaking her through. She tossed her head angrily, and a splash landed on her curls. The float was awash with moisture. It was the longest tour round Tarmouth Lee could remember. They seemed to parade through every street in the town, and by the time they reached the front of the Royal Anchor where they were to park and remain on display until the next day, the boards of the float were slippery with wet, and she was afraid to stand upright without holding on to something. This made it difficult to collect the money being constantly tossed to her by the townsfolk, but she dared not sit down again and risk another soaking. She blessed the increasing heat, which made the man-made fibre of her dress and undies dry fairly rapidly. She gave an experimental wriggle. They already felt more comfortable. With a bit of luck by the time she got off the float, she would be able to turn her back on people with reasonable confidence.
The float slowed at last, and turned towards the harbour, and she could see Vince busy marshalling into line those floats in front of them as soon as they reached the front of the hotel. Soon it was their turn, but Haydn did not wait for Vince to guide him in, he followed the float in front of them, drew neatly in line alongside it, and braked to a halt. Lee saw Vince scowl at the move, but she had more on her mind now than keeping the peace with him. As soon
as the float stopped she slipped to the ground and ran round to the driver's door. Haydn was just emerging.
`Phew, that was some ride !' he ejaculated feelingly. `Poor old Mini, her engine's nearly boiling over.'
`And so is her owner!' Lee stormed, unable to contain the words any longer. They bubbled out of her the moment he shut the car door.
Was it very hot on the back?' he asked. 'You should have ducked inside the daisy out of the sun.'
`And been half drowned for my pains?' she ground out. `Of all the filthy tricks to play....'
`What d'you mean, drowned?' He paused and frowned down at her, and his glance sharpened. 'Your hair's wet,' he observed. 'Are you really as hot as all that?'
`I'm boiling over, like the engine,' she snapped back. `You....'
`Lee, I'll be free in a few minutes to dance with you.' Vince waved the local brass band to start marching and lead the troop of dancers along the roads the floats had just taken, and approached her with a confident look on his face.
`Go away!' she wiped it off abruptly. She was being abominably rude, and she did not care. She had probably ruined Polrewin's growing strawberry trade with the hotel, and she did not care about that, either. She was wet, and hot, and furious, and determined to make Haydn pay for what he had done. She turned her back on Vince's startled, But I say....' and faced Haydn grimly.
`You did it deliberately,' she accused him, her voice tight with anger.
Did what deliberately? I don't know what you're talking about.' His frown darkened. `Go away,' he told Vince over his shoulder, and his jaw jutted ominously. Across the background of her mind Lee heard Vince's splutter of protest, heard Haydn repeat his command in a tone that brooked no opposition, and after a pause, Vince's footsteps receded across the tarmac. They sounded sharp, and hurried, and angry, but it did not matter. She was through trying to keep peace with people, she decided recklessly. Nothing mattered, except the choking misery which pos-
sessed her, through which she heard Haydn say with restrained control,
`Come and have a drink of lemonade or something, and cool down.' He reached out to grasp her arm, and as soon as the tips of his fingers touched her skin, something inside her seemed to snap. With a furious gesture she flung him off.
`Drink it yourself !' she stormed. 'And as for cooling down, it's a wonder I haven't got pneumonia. You must have got the hosepipe and nearly drowned the daisies with water, to make the backing drip like that. Look at the float,' she gestured towards it furiously, `—no doubt you think it's one huge joke. Well, I don't!'
Her voice broke, and with it her courage, and she took to her heels and ran before he had time to see the tears that streamed down her cheeks and made them wetter than the drips from the daisies. Her blurred vision made out the kaleidoscope of colour that was the gay dress of the crowd, who surged forward for a closer look at the floats now they were parked. They parted as she ran towards them, and Lee hurled herself through the gap like a rabbit bolting for the safety of its burrow. One or two of the people looked at her strangely, but no one tried to stop her, and the crowd swarmed round her, closing in behind her and shutting off Haydn, and Vince, and the floats. With a sob of relief she ran on, her one desire to put as much distance between herself and Haydn
as possible. The sound of the music from the band mocked her, and the words to the familiar tune ran through her mind with painful poignancy.
Lonely I would have to be, in that quaint old Cornish town....
The dancers gyrated, following the intricate movements that had been danced down the steps of time, and fleetingly Lee wondered how many other girls had stood in previous summers, as she stood now, apart, on the edge of the crowd, watching other couples dancing, their arms entwined, eyes looking deep into one another's, while their steps moved in unison as they followed the music of the band, which drew more and more dancers to join them, like the Pied Piper, as they marched along the narrow, cobbled streets.
Lee drew apart, shrinking into a cottage doorway to get out of the crush, and feeling more alone than she had ever felt in her life before. Perhaps that was how the writer of the song had felt, she thought dully. Lonely, and miserable, and angry all at the same time. At last she could stand the noise and bustle no longer, and with feet that felt like leaden weights she forced herself to step out of the sheltering doorway. And straightaway collided with Haydn.
`So that's where you went to earth.' She tried to back away from him, but the press of people held her, and the door prevented her from turning the other way. He hung on to her arm, and this time she could not shake him off. His fingers closed like a vice round her wrist, and she tried to pull away, but his grip did not relax.
`You're hurting me !'
`Then stop struggling.'
He dragged her with him. She had no option but to go along, his strength was greater than her own, and his hold was unrelenting. So was the line of his jaw.
`Where are we going?' Lee gasped at last.
The crowds pressed about them, and her sandals slipped on the smooth cobbles, and she grew breathless and angry. `Somewhere quiet, where we can talk.'
They reached the end of the harbour wall, passed the harbourmaster's office. The Sea Mist lay close by, keeling over on her side, waiting for the next tide to bring her upright. Haydn stopped. He loosed her wrist.
`You brute !' She rubbed it furiously. 'There'll be bruises in the morning.'
Not half as many as I'd like to administer,' he growled back, and she had a fleeting vision of him spanking the boy on the beach. It was not reassuring. It caused her to bite back the words that trembled on the edge of her tongue. Now we can hear ourselves speak,' he maligned the efforts of the local band, 'you'll simmer down, and listen to me.'
`I won't !' She faced him defiantly. 'You can't have anything to say that will interest me.' She tried to step round him, but found she could not get far enough away because the edge of the harbour wall was too close, and the drop frighteningly long. She came within an ace of losing her
balance, and Haydn reached out a long arm. She tried to sidestep his grip, and he grabbed her unceremoniously with both hands as she teetered on the very edge of the drop.
`Don't add diving over sea walls to your other silly tricks.' He pulled her back to safety with ungentle hands, and held her as she caught her breath in a hard gasp.
`My silly tricks !' She swallowed, fighting for composure. `I suppose you think soaking the backing on the float was a sensible, adult thing to do?' she flung at him angrily. He still held her captive against the possibility of her trying to dart round him, but she was too angry to feel his hold, to care about his nearness.
`No, I don't,' he retorted harshly. 'If it was done to discomfort you, it was senseless and childish. And I didn't do it.'
`I don't believe you.'
`You're too stubborn to believe anything you're told.' He spoke through gritted teeth. 'Even if it's to the benefit of Polrewin, you refuse to listen. At least Jon's got the sense to listen to someone who knows what they're talking about,' he added bitingly.
`And you do, I suppose?' she jeered, and felt him stiffen. `There's no point in even trying to talk to you,' he grated. `Maybe you'll listen to this.'
His mouth had the same abrasive pressure as his fingers on her wrist. Hard anger fired his kiss. Lee felt it scorch through the muscular grip of his arms, holding her tightly to him. Through the forceful beat of his heart under the thin stuff of his shirt. Could he feel her heart beat, too? It fluttered in her breast like a wild bird beating its wings impotently against the immovable bars of a cage, and the pain of it agonised like the pain of fire.
`Now will you be quiet, and listen to what I've got to say?'
It was a pointless question. She could not speak anyway. Her lips hurt, not so much from the pressure of his, but because he had taken that pressure away. She gazed up at him, mute and white-faced.
`I don't know who drenched the backing on the float, but I certainly did not.' His voice was firm, compelling, and
she had to steel herself not to believe him. 'I intend to discover who it was, though,' he went on grimly, 'and for your own sake I hope it wasn't you.'
`Me? Why should I do it?' She stared at him in astonishment. Why on earth should he think she would play such a stupid trick, and then blame him for it?
`I wonder....'
`Eh, Mr Haydn, but it's a bonny boat.'
From somewhere behind them Lee heard Nell's voice. Haydn checked himself abruptly, so she did not know what it was he wondered. The tautness went out of his body, as it a fire had been momentarily extinguished, and he dropped his arm from around her. And she felt curiously empty, and afraid.
`I brought Nell and Ben along to see the Sea Mist.' Jon appeared, with Ben behind him. 'Look, Nell, those windows on the side are the cabins.'
`Eh, but the curtains are right pretty.'
`You'll have to come back when she's afloat and have a look over her,' Haydn offered generously.
`I'd never dare,' Nell exclaimed. 'I've no use for going on the water meself. I like the ground firm under my feet,' she declared.
Lee sympathised with her. The ground under her own feet felt anything but steady. It seemed fraught with quicksands whichever way she trod. She forced her mind to concentrate on what Nell was saying.
`It's nice to be out of the crush in the town.' The housekeeper perched on a bollard. 'It was a lovely procession, though. I thought our float was the best.' She patted her hair into place complacently.
`The daisies kept lovely and fresh.' Ben joined in, and Lee tensed, but he went on innocently, 'It's a good job I put the hose over them again before you started off this morning. It stopped them from wilting in the heat, didn't it?' he asked proudly.
Lee dared not look at Haydn. The harbour, and the Sea Mist, and Ben's beaming, honest face seemed to revolve slowly round her. From what seemed a great distance away she heard her brother ask,
`What are you two going to do now? I'm taking Nell and Ben back to Polrewin, they've had enough of the crowds.' `Lee and I are going to join the dancing.'
Haydn did not ask her if she wanted to. He caught her wrist again, and took her with him, and she had not the strength to resist. She had to trot to keep up with his stride, back across the harbour wall, and into the crush of the streets. The band was doing its second round of the town. Lee could hear it oompah-ing its way towards them, the music growing louder and more insistent with every second. A burst of cheering heralded its approach and it turned a street corner, and the cheering and the music made the din indescribable.
`I don't want to dance.'
`What did you say?' Haydn cupped his hand to his ear. 'I can't hear a thing in this noise.'
Lee could hear what he said, clearly enough. She suspected he could hear her, but there was no way of proving it, and pride made her refuse to raise her voice and shout again. He did not give her the opportunity to try. He reached out and swept her into his arms as the last of the dangers passed them, and spun her to join the other couples drawn to dance with those in costume.
`Lonely I would have to be, in that quaint old Cornish town....'
The words echoed like a drumbeat through Lee's mind. She danced, encircled in Haydn's arms, and she had never felt
lonelier in her life. She felt as if she was on a little personal island by herself, isolated from the cheerful music, the bright sunshine, and the gay festival crowd. And worst of all, from Haydn himself.
Why didn't he say something? she wondered numbly. Even 'I told you so' would be better than nothing. How was she to know Ben had sprayed the float in a fit of misplaced zeal? She had automatically blamed Haydn. And he suspected she had done it herself. She stole a glance upwards at his face, but he was looking over her shoulder, guiding them both expertly through the intricacies of the dance, and all she could see was the square, uncompromising outline of his chin.
She followed his movements with ease. He was a superb dancer. His slim body took the beat of the music, became its instrument, and interpreted it into a lively step that brought a response from Lee's feet whether she wanted to dance or not. That was another thing she had inherited from her Spanish grandmother, besides her fiery nature. She was a natural dancer. Her lissom body swayed, her feet twinkled in response to the music, and with a gesture of surrender she gave herself up to the hypnotic, throbbing tune; to Haydn's arms, and the bright, hot sunshine that stirred all the inherited instincts in her blood, and brought her vividly alive.
Haydn must have sensed her response. His arms tightened round her, his steps quickened, and he sent her a quick, flashing, downwards glance. Her head tipped back with the sway of the dance, her lips parted showing the shine of her tiny, even teeth. His look kindled, and this time it was not with anger. He strained her to him, and automatically she adjusted her position so that their figures moulded, moving as one.
It was some time before she became aware that the music was growing fainter, the sound of the marching band farther away. It hardly registered at first, then their feet began to slow, the momentum of the music denied them, and Lee dropped her eyes from Haydn's face and turned her head. A white wall of daisies reared up beside them, and Haydn deftly guided her to a stop in between their own float and the one parked next to it. The crowds were gone, attracted away by the dancing in the streets, and temporarily the area occupied by the floats was deserted, except for themselves.
The Vital Spark Page 18
