by Corrie, Jane
`Don't forget to be very unsociable, will you?' Megan whispered across to him before he reached the office door. 'Or I'll never speak to you again.'
He chuckled and raised one hand as he left the office.
Ten minutes later Megan heard voices in the hall, and knew Iris was being shown out. She listened and could hear Iris's slightly girlish voice, only used when she wanted to impress someone.
A few seconds later, Ray joined her. 'Whew !' he sighed, passing a hand over his brow. 'I see what you mean. She is a bit overpowering, isn't she? Women like that frighten me to death. She tried to get me to attend a social function on Wednesday, county dance or something. I gather all the bigwigs
will be attending, so she thought it would be nice for me to meet a few of them, but I got out from under. I coughed up for the Church fund and whisked her to the door. Next time,' he said firmly, 'we'll arrange something—a most important phone call or something that necessitates my immediate attention.'
Megan giggled. 'You weren't unsociable enough,' she said, 'or she wouldn't dare call again.'
Ray's eyebrows raised. 'It would take more than that to discourage that young lady,' he said. 'I've seen purposeful glints such as she had in her eye before now. I only hope you're right about Alain what's-his-name keeping her occupied.'
On her way home that evening, Megan encountered Iris. It was not an accidental meeting, Megan was sure.
`I've met your recluse,' Iris greeted her sarcastically. `You forgot to mention that he was reasonably young and quite a dish, didn't you ?' she demanded.
Megan gave her the sort of look one gives a spoilt child that doesn't know any better. 'Recluse was your word, not mine,' she said. 'I said unsociable, if you remember.'
`Well, I think he's the most attractive person I've ever met,' Iris stated grandly, 'much too nice to let hibernate. I suspect he's only marking his time until he finds suitable acquaintances. I shall ask Daddy to invite him to dinner one evening. I quite see his
dilemma—a man in his position would have to be extremely cautious in choosing his friends.' She broke off and gave Megan a piercing look. 'You did lay it on a bit thick, didn't you? Hoping to keep him to yourself, were you ?'
Megan seized her chance. 'Well, you can't blame me for trying. He's gorgeous, isn't he ? I'm quite potty about him.' She sighed dramatically. 'Not that he'd ever look my way,' she added mournfully.
Iris's eyes narrowed. 'Well, at least you're being sensible about it,' she said coldly. 'Alain will be relieved. The trouble with you is that you're too obvious. You just lack experience, that's all.'
She left Megan all but gasping, but soon her sense of humour reasserted itself and she found herself grinning. She wondered what Ray would think when she told him that she was his number one fan. She frowned when she thought of Iris's remarks, and felt pretty certain she knew what she had in mind; two strings to her bow would provide spice to the chase. Perhaps with two other contestants it might have worked, but Alain was not a man to stand for any nonsense, and Ray, thank goodness, was way ahead of any schemes she might endeavour to embroil him in.
Her father was quieter than usual that evening, and Megan guessed he was starting to worry over the future. He had been waiting to hear from their
solicitors and hoping the news would not be quite so gloomy as they had earlier intimated. She sighed. It looked as if he had heard and the news was bad. She wished she could wave a magic wand and have his book accepted this time. From time to time magazines would give him an assignment, but there had been no requests for quite a while; the old adage of it never rains but it pours was proving its worth in their case.
It occurred to her that it must be particularly galling for her father to have a successful author bridge the gap for them, an author whose work depended solely on ideas and did not entail the rigid research his work demanded. Not, she thought with loving fondness, that he would begrudge Ray his success, for success as such was not a thing he sought. He was content pottering in the medieval times, browsing through ancient manuscripts yellow with age. She couldn't, she mused, have chosen two more dissimilar authors to work for. She certainly could not complain of boredom.
The following morning while they drank their coffee, Ray asked after Megan's father and what he was working on at the present time. Her normally cheerful expression sobered. She told him, adding, 'His publishers refused the last book, you know. It's now doing the rounds; if it's returned again, there'll only be two left he can approach.'
Ray put his coffee cup down and glanced up at her quickly. 'Tried the American market ?' he asked.
Megan shook her head. 'Do you think they'd be interested?' she asked doubtfully.
He smiled and walked over to one of the shelves and selected a book from it. He opened it, ran a finger down a list of names and gave it to Megan. `The last three on that list,' he murmured. 'I'm pretty certain one of them will accept it.'
Megan stared at the names, then looked back at Ray, her eyes wide. 'Honestly ?' she said.
He grinned at her. 'Well, try them and see. They rather go for that sort of thing in the States.'
Megan's eyes shone with gratitude. 'Ray, you're a brick !' she cried, then immediately sobered. 'Now there's only the problem of selling him on the idea.'
`Without telling him who suggested it ?' he asked.
She nodded. 'He's awfully proud, Ray. I don't want him to think I've been confiding in you—which I have, but you know what I mean.'
`Well, why not just say I asked if he'd tried the American markets?' he grinned. 'It's not a lie. I did ask you, didn't I ?'
With an eager nod, Megan had to agree. 'I'll sort of mention it in passing, then,' she grinned back.
The door bell went as she gathered up the cups, and Ray looked at her. 'If that's Miss Markham,' he said grimly, 'I shall definitely be unsociable this time.'
Megan soon identified his visitor. Alain's deep voice floated across to her. So he had decided to pay Ray a visit, then, had he? Had Iris bullied him into it? she wondered. Not that she could see anyone bullying Alain into anything, it was usually the other way around. She also wondered which attitude Ray would adopt, the unsociable or the pompous one. When she heard him ring for Mrs. Matthews, she guessed he was ordering coffee, and grinned to herself. It would be the pompous act Alain would not be likely to repeat the call, or indeed hand out any invitation to the coming shoot, a thing he would most probably have done as an induction into the local society. Megan hoped things stayed that way. Iris would be disappointed, of course, but it was Main who held the key of entree to the village elite; if he approved all doors were open.
It occurred to her that his visit might be a case of sheer curiosity, a summing up, as it were, of Iris's judgment. She could imagine how Iris would have enthused about Ray. Yes, she mused, he would want to get a good look at someone who might turn out to be a rival for Iris's affections.
She was busily typing away when the door opened. Glancing up, she was surprised to see Ray, accompanied by Alain, walk into the office, 'Well, here she is,' Ray announced loudly. 'Slaving away as usual.'
Megan looked away quickly and hoped to be able to keep her face straight.
`I've come to ask your advice,' Ray went on. 'Do you think I ought to attend the County dance on Wednesday, Megan?' Before she could collect herself to answer, he continued in the slightly bored voice he adopted for these occasions. 'I always rely on my secretaries,' he confided to a poker-faced Main. `Especially if they're local.'
Megan was having trouble in suppressing her amusement. She dared not look at Ray. 'You'd hate it,' she said firmly, noting with pleasure Alain's lips thin.
`Yes,' murmured Ray. 'I rather thought I would.' He looked brightly at Main. 'Well, that's settled, then,' he said airily, and began to walk to the door.
Main stood his ground and looked at Megan. 'You are coming, of course,' he said, in a voice that dared her to say no.
Megan feigned surprise. 'No, I'm not,' she said hastily.
'I hate them too.'
Ray grinned. Alain looked from one to the other, his expression grim. 'Since when have you been a recluse?' he asked softly.
Megan coloured, but refused to give way. 'It's not a question of being a recluse,' she said coldly. 'Now I'm working I don't get quite so much time for socialising. I still work for my father, you know, and,' she
added with a note of challenge in her voice, 'I walk Chas.'
`I thought I'd arranged for someone else to take that brute off your hands,' Alain said harshly.
`You did !' Megan replied tartly. 'But I talked Mrs. Jones out of giving the job to Sammy. Chas needs a good run each day, not a walk to the nearest pub.'
Alain's eyes warned her she had gone far enough. `Then he'll get a good walk,' he said abruptly. `By someone who can control him.'
Megan grew angry. 'We do not go near your land,' she said furiously. 'It's not my fault Chas took a dislike to you, and I look forward to our walks. I've got quite fond of him,' she declared dramatically.
Eyeing his stiff features, she realised with a spurt of surprise that this was the first time she had openly defied Alain and felt quite pleased with herself.
`Don't blame me if the brute turns on you one of these days,' he said between his teeth. `I think I'll have a word with your father.'
`Father likes him too,' lied Megan.
Ray decided to intervene at this point. He looked at Megan. 'I'm not sure I shouldn't endorse Mr. Drew's warning,' he said. 'Are you really sure you can handle whatever it is?'
She shot him an indignant look. 'Of course I can !'
she said stoutly. 'He's really an old softie, you just have to get to know him.'
Ray wasn't convinced, and Alain's snort did not help matters. 'Then I think that's just what I'll do,' he said airily. 'I shall accompany you this evening, Megan,' he announced grandly. 'I've no wish to lose my efficient secretary.' He turned to the fuming Alain. 'Don't worry, Mr. Drew, I'll keep a strict eye on her.'
Megan could have hugged him. She now had a new champion, and if the glint in Alain's eye was anything to go by, he didn't like it one bit. Odd, really, he didn't want her around, yet he resented Ray's kindly intervention. He left shortly afterwards, giving Megan a curt nod to show her that he was extremely annoyed with her.
When Ray returned after showing him out, Megan met his amused eyes and asked half accusingly, 'Did you have to drag me into it? What would you have done if I'd said you ought to attend the wretched do?'
He grinned. 'Insisted on your presence too, to protect me.'
`And who,' asked Megan with raised brows, 'would protect me? I'd be swept under by the flood of local dignitaries wanting to make your acquaintance.'
`I rather think you can rely on your blond squire
to see to your welfare,' he teased her. 'Are you sure it's Iris he's courting?'
Megan threw him a look of disgust. 'You too !' she said exasperatedly. 'I did think you'd understand. The whole village, including Iris, is convinced I'm chasing him.' She sighed. 'Poor Alain, and poor me. We're just good friends or we were, until last summer when he came home for vacation. He always seemed to be busy whenever I appeared on the scene.' She hit her small hand down on the desk. 'I didn't think anything of it at the time. He was always telling me to buzz off when I was younger,' her expression softened and she smiled. 'I used to follow him everywhere. A plaguey nuisance, he used to call me, but he was the only one who bothered to talk to me, really talk to me, I mean. Father was always wrapped up in the past, and when he did emerge he never treated me as a child but as an adult. You can imagine what a little know-all I must have seemed to the local kids, and what a lot of pampered ninnies I thought they were. You might say I was a misfit, and when I look back, I certainly was. They used to gang up on me and I was game to take them all on. It was always Alain who stood between me and annihilation. Not that I blame them, I was a holy terror !'
Her eyes twinkled. 'Mind you, he dished out some walloping of his own when I deserved it.' Then she frowned. 'How anyone could link us together in the
romantic line is beyond my comprehension. We're more like brother and sister. He's years older than I am—at least eight.' She sighed again. 'No wonder he was upset when he heard the village gossip. So was I. Once upon a time we'd have had a good laugh about it,' she added sadly, 'now he's turned broody.'
Ray chuckled. `So it's a platonic friendship, is it ?'
Megan nodded vigorously. 'Exactly !' Her brow darkened again. 'Not that it will remain so if he still persists in trying to stop me taking Chas for walks. I know he's only trying to protect me in his way, but he can't have it both ways. If he wants to stop the village gossip he must confine his activities to looking after Iris's welfare. Oh,' she sighed impatiently, 'it's all so stupid, isn't it ?'
Later that day, Megan hoped Ray would forget his promise to accompany her on her walk with Chas, but before she left he reminded her. She looked at him. 'Honestly, Ray, there's no need, you know. Alain's making a fuss about nothing. I'm sure you've more to do than walk the recreation field with us.'
`Nonsense,' he replied. 'A bit of exercise will do me good. Besides, I want to see this hound of the Baskervilles for myself. What time's off ?'
Ray called for Megan at about seven. It had been agreed that it might be a good idea if he accompanied her when she collected Chas. 'You see,' Megan had
explained, 'I think he only took exception to Alain because he suddenly appeared on the scene out of the blue, as it were. In his doggy way he wasn't sure whether he was friend or foe.'
Chas took to Ray and greeted him as an old friend just returned from foreign parts, particularly when he commandeered the lead. Mrs. Jones was thrilled when she heard the name of Megan's companion. It was quite clear that the news of his arrival had filtered through the village.
As they strolled across the recreation ground, Megan brought Ray up to date with local history of the village, while Chas went off on his excursions, every now and again racing back to join them as if to confirm that he was still with them.
`Well, I agree with you,' commented Ray as he watched Chas gallop up to join them once again, his four legs splayed out in what seemed an impossible physical feat. 'Your Chas is a big softie. I'm still trying to imagine him as a watchdog.'
Megan laughed. 'Well, I can assure you he was,' she gurgled. 'Alain was furious.'
They walked round the perimeter of the grounds until they came to the pavilion. Ray looked up at it. `That's a bit ancient, isn't it ?' he queried, gazing up at its weathered woodwork.
She followed his gaze. 'Well, it's been up about seventy years, I think,' she said, 'We used to have
a fine cricket team according to the old residents. I'm afraid all we can manage now is a scratch team that turns out every bank holiday, and regularly gets a tanning. No one turns out to watch any more. It's sort of—demoralising'
`Pity,' commented Ray. 'I always think a village ought to have a good cricket team. I say, do you think there's any chance of getting in for a look round? I've just got an idea for a story. I'd like to get the feel of the place.'
Megan was quite used to this sort of request. She had known her father once travel to Canterbury to re-visit the Cathedral when he was working on an article. Although he knew its history well, he still wanted to get, as Ray had just put it, 'the feel of it'.
`There used to be a way in round the back,' she said. 'Come on, let's see if the door is still left on the catch.'
To their delight it was. 'It must be years since I came,' said Megan as they entered the premises. 'We used to use the place as a headquarters when we were kids; when it rained, that was. I suppose the children still do. As long as no damage is done, Mrs. Sims turns a blind eye.'
They wandered through the musty rooms. Relics of past glories in the form of photographs hung on the walls of the changing rooms. Grinning moustached men holding aloft a huge cup, the date and names
of the victorious teams faithfully recorded on
plaques beneath the photographs. It was all so tidy and very dusty, there was a sense of expectancy, as if the place itself were waiting, waiting to echo once more the laughter and good wishes as each player strode out to do battle.
Ray sighed and murmured once more, 'Pity.' He sat down on one of the wooden benches that ran alongside the walls and went into a kind of reverie.
Megan, recognising the signs, knew he was reconstructing scenes in his mind. 'I'd better see what Chas is up to,' she remarked. 'He's probably going frantic trying to find us.'
A few minutes later she returned. Ray was busy making notes on an envelope. She waited until he had finished, then said, 'Did you pull the door to behind us, Ray ? Because we're locked in.'
He pulled his attention back from his notes and looked at her. He frowned in thought. 'I believe I did. It was sort of swinging open, so I closed it.'
Megan sat down beside him. 'It's my fault,' she said. 'I should have warned you. The lock is dicey, one of the ancient types. That's why it's always left slightly ajar with a piece of cardboard jammed in. Mr. Simms the caretaker was always locking himself in until he had the bright idea of jamming the lock.' She grimaced. 'Chas is scratching like mad at the door. I made the mistake of talking to him. Someone's
bound to guess what's happened and fetch Mr. Sims,' she concluded, but she didn't sound very hopeful.
Ray went towards the door. 'We'd better see if there's any other way out, hadn't we?'
`There isn't,' Megan answered mournfully. 'Not unless you're prepared to risk breaking a limb or two clambering down an old pipe from the scorers' den on the top floor, but I wouldn't advise it. It's coming away from the sides as it is. Any weight on it and it would collapse.'
`No windows elsewhere? What about the kitchen area?' he asked.
Megan shook her head. 'It's too tiny, even for me. Come and look.'
They looked, and Ray was forced to agree with Megan. They also looked at all the ground floor windows, not that there were many—just three, in fact—all boarded up.
By this time the light was failing. Soon it would be dark. Ray tried the electric light switch, but there was no joy. 'I suppose it's been disconnected,' Megan commented. Chas could be heard howling outside.
