Rainbow for Megan

by Corrie, Jane

  Vaguely Megan thought she would have to do something about her father. As Alain had said, he wasn't there half the time. She was all but flung into the car, and as she struggled to get out again, Alain warned her in no uncertain terms. 'You can sulk all night,' he rasped, 'but you're attending the supper. Got that ?'

  The car jerked forward and they were on their way before Megan could answer.

  Once there, she found she wasn't even going to be allowed to sulk in peace. In the same fashion that he had carried her out of her house, he carried her into the farmhouse when she obstinately sat in the car refusing to get out. Megan's flushed cheeks and blazing eyes took in the amused looks and outright grins from the villagers as Alain threaded his way past them with his captive.

  She would never ever forgive him. This time he had really gone too far. He didn't release her until they reached the kitchen when he put her down with an abrupt, 'Make yourself useful,' and left her to it.

  She glared at his retreating back, then turned to find Mrs. Smith's somewhat startled eyes on her.

  Iris came in a few minutes later. 'You couldn't, of course, arrive like everybody else, could you?' she said waspishly.

  Megan didn't bother to answer, but started to help Mrs. Smith.

  `Just as long as she's here, it don't much matter,' commented Mrs. Smith in her blunt way. 'She knows how things are done.'

  Megan could have hugged her. It was obvious she did not appreciate Iris's help.

  The supper was held in one of the large barns, of ample size to accommodate the amount of villagers who attended. Long trestles were placed running lengthwise across the barn. The top table was reserved for the local dignitaries. Megan normally sat there, next to Alain. She didn't know how this had come about, she suspected it went back a long way, to when Alain thought it advisable to keep an eye on her. She wondered where she would be sitting this time, and had a feeling she would be delegated to the ranks. Well, she didn't mind one bit. The further she sat from Alain the better for all concerned ! She had only been roped in because she had always helped.

  Coping with that number of people was no easy task, although things were now down to a fine art.

  Salad bowls were placed strategically along the tables, together with mounds of freshly-cut slices of french loaves, leaving only the traditional baked potatoes and roast beef to be served. For this one special occasion, wine was served and there was plenty of it, so there was not the problem of serving hot drinks after the meal.

  Iris stood watching Megan first test, then take the trays of potatoes out of the large kitchen oven. She wore a deceptively simple shift dress of orange linen. Megan, glancing at her, took in the low neck of the dress, a come-hither sign if there ever was one. She wondered if Alain were impressed. It ought, she thought, keep his mind off other matters, such as her doing the disappearing act at the first given opportunity. The use of candles would make this an easy task; there would be plenty of shadows. This again was an old tradition at Clock House. It dated back to the times when there was no such thing as electric light. The original candelabra were brought out for this occasion and placed in the middle of each table, giving just the required amount of light.

  Loaded with a heavy tray of the hot potatoes, Megan brushed past Iris, who gave a slight start and anxiously examined her dress, then asked Mrs. Smith if there was an apron she could borrow. Mrs. Smith broke off from her task of cutting slices of roast beef and with a martyred expression provided her with one

  of her own. As she was a lady of ample proportions, it took Iris quite some time to adjust it to her satisfaction. Mrs. Smith, now back to her task, muttered softly to Megan, 'By the time she gets that right, it will be time to sit down.'

  Megan hid a grin and started to collect the plates ready to put the slices of beef on.

  `Now,' said Iris importantly, 'what shall I do ?'

  Considering they were on the last lap, Megan thought Mrs. Smith showed remarkable restraint. 'You can start taking these plates in,' she said. 'Start with the top table.'

  Iris picked up one of the trays Megan had put several plates on, and started off. She got as far as the door, then came back again. To Mrs. Smith's disgust and Megan's hastily suppressed amusement, she started to take the overall off. Then, giving her hair a final pat, she sailed out with the tray.

  As Megan served the lower tables, she felt Alain's eye on her. He sat in the centre of the top table, Iris beside him. Having served the top table, she evidently considered she had done her part.

  She sat where Megan usually sat and Megan was relieved. She spotted an empty seat next to Mr. Tilson and asked him to keep it for her. It was well away from the top table and out of sight of Alain's watching eyes.

  When the last plate had been served, and Mrs.

  Smith taken her seat, Megan returned her tray to the kitchen. She took her time about returning to the barn, and to her consternation found everyone waiting for her. Alain was standing and she knew he was waiting to say grace. As she prepared to join Mr. Tilson, his deep voice cut across the expanse of the barn. 'Your place is here.'

  Megan was forced to walk the length of the barn to the top table. The seat beside Alain was now vacant, and a furious Iris seated a few chairs away from him. As soon as Megan joined him, he said grace and the supper began.

  Megan was not happy. She liked to know where she stood. A furious Alain one minute, and an olive branch the next, was a little much for her to swallow. She couldn't fathom what had brought the sudden change about. Had Iris annoyed him too? Was he at last putting his foot down? It was a wonder to Megan that he had stood any nonsense from her at all. While she toyed with her food, she darted a quick glance to where Iris was sitting next to Colonel Lamb's son, who looked only too ready to be entertained, and Iris was evidently making the most of it. Her girlish laugh trilled out several times, and Megan caught her stealing a quick glance under her incredibly long lashes towards Alain, at that precise moment in conversation with Mr. Browne.

  So that was it ! thought Megan. A lovers' tiff. At

  a further trill of laughter, Megan darted a look at Alain. He didn't look much put out, but she knew he was not one to show his feelings—at least, she corrected herself, he hadn't been. She idly pushed the piece of beef around her plate, trying to make it look as if she were enjoying the meal. When Alain spoke, she jumped.

  `Lost your appetite too, I see,' he commented.

  `I had just eaten,' Megan said indignantly, 'when you persuaded me to come.' There was much emphasis on the 'persuaded'.

  To her annoyance he grinned. 'Once upon a time it wouldn't have made any difference,' he said dryly.

  Megan knew what he meant. Although there was nothing of her she had been able to equal his appetite in the past. She changed the subject. 'Have you quarrelled with Iris ?' she demanded. 'She ought to be sitting here.'

  He looked amused again. 'I told you once,' he murmured, 'it's your chair.'

  Megan looked warily at him, and thought she could see the reason for his abrupt change of tactics. `Oh, I see,' she said knowingly.

  He sipped his wine and motioned her to drink hers. 'What do you see ?' he enquired.

  Keeping her voice low, Megan said, Tit for tat,' nodding her head solemnly.

  `I beg your pardon ?' he said.

  `Simple,' she returned, 'when you work it out,' positive she had now got the answer. Not only had she been literally dragged there to help out as kitchen hand, but to double up as a useful foil in the jealousy stakes. Hadn't she told Alain that Iris thought she had designs on him ? Laughable, yes, but very useful if you wanted to do a little stirring up of your own. `You're trying to make Iris jealous, aren't you ?' she said softly.

  Alain's hand holding the glass shook slightly. He gave her a bland look. 'Am I?' he said in half surprise.

  Megan threw him a look of exasperation. 'All right, if you don't want to talk about it ! I just thought I'd let you know I knew what you were up to. Still,' she said airily, 'as you once sa
id, what you do is no concern of mine.' She was quite pleased to he able to throw that back at him, and sipped her wine contentedly.

  `Er—tell me,' requested Alain, 'do I take it you're willing to help in my determined pursuit of my loved one?'

  Megan stared at him. 'Help?' she asked, slightly stunned. Alain had never asked her for help, it was usually the other way around. One part of her was elated, for now they were truly friends again, but the other part was sad. She did wish he had chosen a nicer person than Iris. Of course perhaps in time, when all the corners had been knocked off ...

  `Yes, help,' Alain said slowly, his grey eyes meeting her wide ones. 'You could, you know.'

  Megan frowned. 'How ?' she asked. 'Frankly, I think you've done enough already. She was absolutely furious when you let me pinch her chair.'

  `Your chair,' corrected Alain, then stared. down into his glass. 'Are you game ?' he said abruptly.

  Megan grinned. They were back on the old status. The times he'd said that in the past ! She couldn't help responding, 'Of course ! You'll have to lead the way. I'm not very experienced in these matters, I'm liable to put my foot in it.'

  `Right !' Alain grinned back at her. 'just follow my lead. And don't look surprised at anything I do.'

  Megan was already surprised, but nodded her head.

  It was as well he had warned her, for the rest of the evening turned out to be a revelation for her. When supper was over, Alain courteously stood behind her chair and moved it away from her when she stood. If she felt he rather overdid the chivalry act she held her tongue, but it was nothing to what followed.

  It was the custom for a few selected guests to stay on after the supper and take coffee in Alain's sitting-room. As they walked from the barn to the house, Megan found Alain's arm around her waist. Her first surprised reaction was to jerk away, but the pressure

  he held her in reminded her of their pact. Iris was forced to follow behind with Mr. Browne, but Megan could feel her eyes on her back and wondered which obituary would be written up first, hers or Ray's.

  When they reached the house, Iris pointedly reminded Megan that Mrs. Smith could do with some help in serving the coffee. Alain stepped in smartly by remarking that he thought Megan had done enough already. She was a working girl these days, and entitled to a little relaxation. The 'working girl' bit must have hit Iris, a lady of leisure until she found something befitting her station, and that something, Megan presumed, was marriage to a man in the high income bracket—such as Alain.

  When his guests were seated, Alain joined Megan on the settee, sitting close to her, his arm placed along the back, encompassing her within the circle of his arm. Embarrassing as it was, Megan had to go through with it. Iris flounced out of the room, for she was now committed to helping Mrs. Smith herself. Megan felt sorry for Mrs. Smith—in that mood Iris would be more of a liability than a help.

  `Perhaps I ought,' she murmured, and began to get up,. but Alain's arm came down from the back of the seat and round her waist, pulling her firmly back again.

  `You'll stay put, Tuppence,' he chided. 'This is only the start,' and then he joined in a lively discussion developing between the rest of his guests.

  Megan was absolutely astounded that no one seemed to think Alain's behaviour towards her odd. It appeared to be taken as a normal happening, and of no especial interest to anybody but Iris. She began to feel slightly apprehensive. Surely Alain had done enough to bring Iris to heel ? She must, thought Megan, have given him an awfully bad time to have brought this punishment on her head. At this rate, by the end of the evening she should be ready to fall into his arms, and the wedding date fixed.

  After coffee, Mrs. Smith joined the company. All available seating was taken, and Alain beckoned her to join them on the settee, obligingly moving even closer to Megan to make space for her. He still did not relinquish his arm around Megan, and she found she had only to move her head a fraction and it would be resting on his wide shoulder.

  At this stage she was quite unable to look in Iris's direction, but knew she was, to all intents and purposes, finding Don Lamb's company fascinating, if the fluted laughs coming from that part of the room were anything to go by. One thing Megan did know for certain; if Alain and Iris did marry, she did not expect to be on the list of accepted guests at Clock House !

  A tiny pain caught her heart. It was not physical, but something entirely different. In his determination

  to win Iris, Alain had not foreseen that, or if he had —he just hadn't cared. Iris was not one to forget an evening like this, and Megan really couldn't blame her.

  If she thought Alain had gone far enough, there was worse to follow. Eventually most of the guests drifted away and Mrs. Smith retired, leaving only Megan, Alain and Iris, plus Don Lamb, whom Iris clung to with as much determination as Alain had clamped on Megan.

  Megan wanted to go home. She was tired of the game and felt it had gone on long enough. She was even beginning to feel sorry for Iris.

  To her horror, Iris suggested a walk before the close of the evening. 'It's such a beautiful night,' she declared, giving Don a provocative glance under her lashes. 'I adore moonlight, don't you?'

  As a gentleman, and having spent most of the evening receiving come-hither signs, he was hardly likely to refuse, Megan thought apprehensively as she glanced at Alain, who to her annoyance agreed.

  `Good idea. Come on, Tuppence, I'll race you to the old spinney !'

  In spite of her keenness to take the night air, Iris lingered on the walk, making certain that Alain and Megan were in the near vicinity; and when Alain stormed to show Megan where he had planted some young firs to replace the Dutch elms lost through

  disease, she came back to join them. When the sudden cry of a barn owl shrilled out near them, she flung herself into Alain's arms, but Alain proved most ungentlemanly about the whole thing by immediately disengaging himself from her hold and chiding her on her nervousness. 'Surely you know the hoot of an owl by now?' he mocked.

  Don, who had gone on ahead in the hope of Iris joining him, now returned to the company and the four resumed the walk.

  A slightly desperate Iris now threw all guns into the fray. She caught hold of Don's arm. 'I'm cold,' she said prettily, and obligingly Don placed his arm around her.

  `How about you, Tuppence ?' asked Alain.

  `I'm fine,' said Megan hastily, guessing his intention.

  Iris pulled Don's attention to a gnarled old oak they were just passing. 'A witch was supposed to live in that,' she commented, 'there's a large hole the other side of it. Come on, I'll show you, we ought to be able to see it.'

  Recognising the tactics, Megan wondered whether Alain would rise to the bait and accompany them, thus refusing to give Iris the opportunity of the quiet little session with Don that she was angling for in order to arouse some jealous response from him. But he strode on ahead regardless. The spinney came into

  view, and catching Megan's hand Alain ascended the hill, pulling her up with him. When they reached the top, although breathless, Megan had to admit it was worth the effort. She had seen the view many times before, but never in moonlight. The gentle rays washed over the surrounding countryside, catching here and there the graceful silver birches and giving them a magical glow.

  She gazed out, lost in wonder, unaware that Alain still held her hand. When he pulled her gently towards him she came to with a start, and giving him an indignant look attempted to pull away from him.

  `We should,' he said softly, 'be well outlined up here, don't you think?'

  Megan saw the plan. No matter where Iris was, she could not fail to see the two figures silhouetted on the top of the hill. She straightened her lips and allowed herself to be pulled into his arms, whispering fiercely, 'What I do for England ! How long do we have to keep this up ?' she muttered, gazing up at him.

  His answer was the last one she expected. He bent his head and she thought he was going to say something, but instead he kissed her gently, his lips touching
hers with feather-lightness.

  Megan gasped. 'That,' she said furiously, 'was not cricket ! There was no need to go that far. I'm going back, I ...'

  The sentence hung in mid-air as his lips stifled it. Megan was through with acting and struggled to free herself, but he had the advantage of already having his arms firmly around her. She was forced to accept the kiss, no longer light and certainly not brotherly ! Megan had never been kissed like that before. Her heart thudded and her senses swam. She felt as if he were draining her very life blood.

  When he lifted his head, she was too weak to move out of the warmth of his arms and he did not attempt to put her away from him. Just held her close. Finding her breath, she said weakly, 'I want to go home, Alain.'

  He kissed her forehead. 'Home we go, then,' he murmured.

  Megan had forgotten about Iris and Don. She had forgotten everything except the way she felt. On the way back to her home, Alain chatted about this and that, and Megan tried hard to concentrate and quell the thoughts pounding through her brain. She had made an awful discovery. She was in love with Alain ! As his kiss had not been brotherly, so her feelings were far from sisterly ! She was utterly horrified, for how had it come about? She had often wondered if she would recognise love when it came, but had never thought it would come in such a devastating way, or that the quest would be such a hopeless one.

  When they reached her home, she was surprised

  when he got out too, and stood gazing down at her. `Come and help us demolish the rest of the roast beef tomorrow,' he said lightly.

  Megan started. Surely he wasn't going to go on with it? Her heart jerked. She couldn't ! It was unthinkable. He knew her so well, it would not take him long to spot what had happened, and he would feel awful then, she knew he would.

  `No,' she said hastily, 'I can't.'

  He stiffened. 'Going to Hallett's ?' he said softly yet menacingly. 'Even though I need your help ?'