by Trevallion
"Yes—yes, I think so. But Gran and Rick will never give their sanction."
Anna watched Ruth's capable hands on the wheel, still feeling surprised by the girl's indecision. Ruth drove, as she did most things, with efficient proficiency. Only in her own affairs was she tentative and not assured.
"Why not?" said Anna indignantly. "You're of age—you can do what you like. Why don't you take things into your own hands?"
"Do you mean run away with David?" Ruth asked, her eyes round.
"Yes, if necessary. You've got your own life to lead, after all."
"Yes—yes, I suppose so. I'm thirty, Anna, you know. I haven't got much time left, have I?"
Anna glanced at her affectionately. No, she had not much time left to get away from Trevallion and the ties Mrs. Peveril had laid upon her. She remembered Birdie observing that after thirty the Peveril women became set. Mrs. Peveril could not live for ever, but by the time she died Ruth would have accepted her spinster status and Trevadion would imprison her for the rest of her life.
"You should do what you think is right for you, Ruth," she said. "You are entitled to a life apart from the Peverds, you know."
"Yes, I am, aren't I?" said Ruth eagerly. "Perhaps now you've come things will be different"
Anna sat in the car, well aware that things could not be very different. Her own advent, if they could but know, brought nothing in changes. If Ruth wanted her young man, she would have to go out after him herself.
"Ruth," Anna said suddenly, "put up a fight—if David's what you want, don't pay any attention to anyone else."
"But would I know?" asked Ruth. "Do you really know that Rick's the man for you? We none of us think you care much about him."
"Don't you?" said Anna softly. "Well, perhaps Rick has something to work out, himself."
"Meaning Alix?"
"Perhaps. Alix is far more right for him than I am, don't you think?"
"I don't know. I used to think Alix was the only one, but now—well, people change, I suppose."
"But you," said Anna, suddenly censorious, "still want Alix. And perhaps Rick hasn't changed, after all."
"What do you mean?"
"Perhaps I don't quite know. But—Alix is Alix, isn't she? You all want her in the family. I'm incidental—a stranger
within the gates—someone who doesn't fit."
Ruth turned the car in between the gates in Trevallion's high wall. Anna was aware of her already retiring behind the habitual mask she wore at home.
"Quite honestly, you don't fit, Anna," she said with her usual bluntness. "But it's scarcely your fault, is it? Rick should have known that the Peverils stick to their own kind."
Anna felt rebuked. There were so many times when Ruth seemed sympathetic that a return to her old hostility always came as a rebuff. It could not really matter, she argued, because by the end of the summer they would be rid of her. The summer . . . she thought, suddenly panic-stricken. It was already August. By September her presence at Trevallion would no longer be required. Rick and Alix would settle their affairs which way they chose; it had all been a waste of time.
She went down to the shore in the afternoon, for the day was hot and airless. Alix was already there, stretching her lovely body in the sun.
"Hullo!" she said, lazily flexing her firm brown limbs. "Come and talk to me, Anna. It's nice to be lazy, isn't it?"
Anna sat on the rock beside her, drawing her knees up to her chin. She did not particularly want an intimate interlude with Alix, but it was difficult to refuse. There were, after all, only the two of them in the little cove which had always been Peveril property, and it was not easy to remain withdrawn when Alix chose to be gracious.
"Are you in love with Rick?" Alix asked, as if she were commenting on the weather or their plans for the next day.
Anna felt herself flushing. It was not, she thought, Alix's right to enquire into the state of her heart.
"What a strange thing to ask me," she said, trying to speak lighdy. "I'm engaged to him, aren't I?"
"Oh, yes," said Alix, "but that doesn't really answer the question, does it? You know about us—Rick and me, I mean?"
"I know that at one time you were to be married," Anna said evenly.
"And do you think—do you ready think, Anna Crewe, that in Rick's eyes you're a fair exchange for me?"
Anna looked at her. Her body, stretched on the baking rocks, was perfect, and somehow challenging. Her face, turned to the sun, was undeniably beautiful with its straight, finely proportioned features, the strong black hair springing with vibrant wealth from her smooth forehead, the heavy lids of her closed eyes, the sensual twist of her lovely mouth.
"No," said Anna, "probably not, but it's Rick's decision, isn't it? You could have had him long ago, Alix."
Alix's eyes opened suddenly, the same cold, observant grey eyes as Rick's.
"Yes," she said, "and I could still."
"Why do you stay here?" Anna asked, made suddenly uneasy.
"When I came back," Alix said, "I didn't know he had got engaged. Gran wanted me to stay, you know."
"You make it difficult for everyone," Anna said. "Have you no concern for your own future, Alix?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, when Rick marries—you don't expect to live in the cowman's cottage indefinitely, do you?"
"Are you telling me politely it's time I went?" "No, of course not, but-"
"But as long as I'm here, you aren't easy, is that it, Anna? You know very well that you're no fit mate for a Peveril."
Anna clasped her hands round her knees, straining them tightly to her chest. The girl's arrogance was outrageous, as outrageous as Rick's own disregard for the feelings of others.
"The Peverils," she said trenchantly, "have an exaggerated idea of their own importance. You and Rick and Mrs. Peveril —what have you got that others haven't?"
Alix raised herself on one elbow, surveying Anna with casual amusement.
"You are in love with him, aren't you?" she said. "How very funny. You must know he doesn't care a jot for you."
Anna's face grew pinched with sickness. It was true, of
course, that Rick cared nothing for her. The terms of their bargain had not allowed for personal feelings; neither of them had suspected that one or other of them might become involved in the affair emotionally.
"I don't see," she said, scrambling to her feet, "that you are in a position now to know Rick's feelings about me, or anyone else."
"Don't you think so, darling?" said Alix, rolling over on to her side. "But, you see, I know Rick so much better than you do—so much better than you ever will."
Anna took herself off to the quiet pools and splashed about, looking blindly for sea anemones and the life which lay hidden under the rocks. She watched Alix dive and knew the contempt she felt for the stranger amongst them. She wished Ruth would join them, but Ruth, she knew, was meeting David Evans to share his rounds. There would be nobody until Rick came down in the evening, or she allowed herself beaten and went back to the house.
"Don't you venture into the sea yet?" Alix called from the breakers. "Ruth has been coaching you for ages. Are you going to stick to the pools for ever, poor little town-bred scrap?"
It was a deliberate taunt, Anna knew, but there was something about Alix's condescension which fired her to take up the challenge. Had she not progressed greatly under Ruth's tuition? Was not the sea calm and inviting and inexpressibly blue, and Alix too sure of her own superiority?
"I'll swim out with you now," she shouted, and ran down towards the breakers.
"Do you think you can manage it " Alix asked as Anna joined her, and there was an unkind light of amusement in her eyes.
"Of course! Ruth says I've made a lot of progress."
"Well, I'll be there beside you to see what progress you really have made," said Alix, but she was not there. She swam ahead, every so often pausing to wave an arm and shout impatiently. Anna battled with the currents rather
better than
she had on that first occasion, but quite soon she knew herself beaten. She had swum too far out to get back unaided and Alix was away ahead, paying no further attention.
"Alix!" Anna called, her strength nearly at an end, and wondered, without surprise, if Alix meant her to drown, if this was her callous Peveril way of getting rid of an encumbrance which was becoming tiresome.
Only when Anna was beginning to drift, unable any longer to fight the undertow, did Alix turn and start to swim back. Anna thought she heard shouts from the shore and, at the same moment, felt Alix's arm about her.
"Don't fight, you idiot!" she said. "I'd take you in."
Anna had struggled a little at first because she feared she must drown so far out from the shore, and Alix, she knew, would not have greatly cared if she had.
"You hate me, don't you?" she gasped, to her own surprise, and was not astonished when Alix replied:
"I don't think about you, my dear. Now, for God's sake stop talking or you'd choke. I don't want to drown you under Rick's very eyes."
Rick . . . thought Anna, and gave up puzzling because it was so pleasant to be safe again, so good to know that whatever Alix's intentions, she was bringing her safely and strongly to land. It was, she supposed, quite a spectacular rescue, and was unsurprised to feel masculine arms receiving her at the water's edge and hear Rick's voice demand angrily:
"What on earth do you think you're playing at, Anna? Alix, don't you know any better than to let the child try to drown herself?"
"Ruth has been coaching her," Alix replied with a certain smugness. "Do you expect me to wet-nurse your ewe-lamb, too, Rick?"
Anna lay on the hard shingle, her head against Rick's firm thigh. The wash of the sea was in her ears and the harsh cries of the ever-present gulls. She did not wish to speak. She only wanted to be close to Rick, to feel the comforting warmth of his body, to know that even if he was angry he
was here holding her safe from harm, from Alix, her own tumultuous thoughts.
"What possessed you, Anna?" he asked roughly.
"She said—" replied Anna drowsily. "I—I thought I was good enough this time. I didn't want to stay, as she said, in the safe pools for ever."
Over her head, Rick looked at Alix.
"Did you dare her to go out?" he asked, and Alix shrugged.
"Of course not. But it was lucky I was handy, don't you think, darling?"
"Very lucky," he returned dryly, "though from what I could see, you didn't hurry much to the rescue."
"No?" said Alix, her eyes growing suddenly as angry and hostile as his. "What a pity you weren't here a little earlier, then. You could have plunged in and done your stuff and dear Anna would have had better cause for gratitude."
She snatched her clothes from a rock and without waiting to dress again began to climb the cliff path to the cottage.
"Did she get you into the sea?" Rick asked with steady persistence, and Anna looked up and saw the dark disturbance in his face.
"No," she said, struggling to sit up. "At least—I expect for Alix the sea has no terrors. I—I wanted to show her that I'd improved—boasting again, you see."
"Get your things on," he said.
She pulled her cotton skirt and jumper over her wet bathing dress, aware of him watching her. She had once again, she thought, failed to measure up to Peveril standards. Her teeth chattered and the fingers which tried to battie with zips and hooks were cold and clumsy.
"Here, let me," he said, and zipped up her skirt with an impatient gesture. "Can you manage the cliff path?"
"Of course."
But half-way up the path he picked her up and carried her to the top.
"How absurdly light you are," he said, setting her down.
"Don't try competing again with others more experienced unless I'm around. Understand?" "Yes," she said meekly.
At the cottage he hesitated and asked if she could get back to the house by herself.
"Of course," she said, as she had replied when he had asked her if she could manage the cliff path, but when he had walked into the cottage and slammed the door behind him she felt the need to rest again before making her way to Trevallion. The unpleasant experience had weakened her, and, more than that, the knowledge that Alix had not only goaded her into danger but left her as long as possible in fear of drowning, had shaken her confidence. She sat down in the tussocky grass beside the cottage, immeasurably grateful for small familiar things; the harsh feel of the salt-laden grass which tickled her bare legs, the smell of the gorse, Sol's voice in the far distance cading to the pigs. Almost at once, Rick's and Alix's angry voices came to her through the open window.
"You look all in," Ruth said, showing a concern that was not usual in her when Anna reached the house.
"I was stupid," Anna said, trying to make light of the whole matter. "I thought, after your lessons in swimming, I was fit to tackle the sea. Alix had to pull me in."
"Alix? But she knows you're not good enough yet."
"I expect I was stupid, Ruth," Anna said again. "The sea looked so calm and—and I was tired of bathing in the safe pools."
"Did Alix egg you on?" asked Ruth, and there was a moment's horror in her face.
"In a way, perhaps, but the fault was really mine. I tried to do too much. I'll never, I'm afraid, reach the Peveril peak of endurance. Perhaps I'm not built for it."
"No," said Ruth, observing her slender frame with the first hint of compassion, "perhaps you aren't. Would you like to lie down, Anna?"
"No!" laughed Anna, already restored to normal and
wanting her tea. "And don't tell Mrs. Peveril. She'd think I was such a fool, wouldn't she?"
She had missed tea, however, but they all gathered in the long living-room before dinner, Mrs. Peveril alert and watchful, Ruth with her habitual sulkiness, and Birdie, a dim nonentity, dispensing sherry and talking spasmodically about the pigs. Rick had not come home.
"Do you feel quite well?" Mrs. Peveril asked Anna, observing her pinched looks with unusual attention.
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Peveril," Anna answered, and was glad of the second glass of sherry Birdie brought her.
"It's trying weather," Mrs. Peveril said, but managed to convey at the same time that no Peveril would find it so.
"Yes," said Anna, "it's very hot."
She was aware that she was being quizzed by the old lady, always looking for some failing to pounce on, and by Birdie who, oddly enough, looked compassionate and worried.
"Would you care," he asked suddenly, "to drive with me tomorrow? I have to attend a sale where there's a boar going that Sol thinks might be useful."
"Such nonsense!" Mrs. Peveril exclaimed. "As if Anna would want to attend a sale of pigs!"
Birdie looked crushed and Anna said gently:
"I would like to go with you, Birdie, if it fits in with the household plans. Where is the sale?"
"It won't fit in," Ruth said before he could reply. "The party is tomorrow evening. Everyone will be wanted."
"Of course ... of course . . ." murmured Birdie, guiltily aware that he had forgotten, and Mrs. Peveril looked up with complacent approval.
"My birthday," she said. "I shall be eighty-seven tomorrow, Anna. A great age, you think, no doubt. The Peverils live to a great age, you know. Where's Rick? Why isn't he home?"
Anna thought he had probably stayed at the cottage with Alix, making love, talking over past mistakes and planning for a future which did not include her, but she made no reply.
"He went over to the village an hour or more ago," Birdie said, and Mrs. Peveril pursed her lips.
"The public-house, I suppose," she said, and bent a glance on Anna which conveyed that the fault must be hers.
Rick came in very shortly afterwards. If he had been drinking it was not evident in his manner. He took a glass of sherry, raised it to Anna and observed deliberately:
"Your health, Miss Crewe! I trust you are none the worse."
"What has t
he child been doing?" demanded Mrs. Peveril instantly, her eyes bright with anticipation.
"Only nearly getting herself drowned," Rick responded. "Alix, I gather, lured her out of her depth, and then left it to the last minute before troubling to rescue her."
"Alix did?" said Mrs. Peveril, sounding shocked. "Anna, my child, I think you must have been making up fairy tales."
"I never-" began Anna, dismayed, but Rick broke in,
cutting short embarrassing explanations.
"Anna gave nothing away," he said. "But Alix was not so reticent. It was her idea of a joke."
They all looked at him with varying expressions. Mrs. Peveril with eyes that were suddenly tired and old, Ruth with angry dislike, Birdie with distress.
"You must be wrong, Rick!" Ruth cried, but there was nervous doubt in her voice. "Alix wouldn't—I mean Anna told me she had been stupid, didn't you, Anna?"
"Yes," said Anna, "I'd overrated my progress in swimming, I'm afraid. It was lucky Alix was there to help me in."
Ruth's look of gratitude was a little pathetic but Rick's quick glance was grim.
"That's very generous of you, Anna," he said, and old Mrs. Peveril looked from one to the other of them with narrowed eyes, her nose sharp and beaky, and more witch-like than ever.
"Dinner must be ready," she observed abruptly, dismissing the subject.
When the meal was finished they sat in the long cool living-room with the lamps lighted but the curtains still undrawn.
The mixture of lamplight and the dying day was rather sad, Anna thought, observing the silent room and its familiar occupants. Mrs. Peveril was playing piquet with Birdie, rating him soundly if he made a mistake, Ruth sprawled in the window, reading the current edition of Our Dogs, and Rick smoked a pipe in silence.
"Come for a stroll in the garden," he said suddenly to Anna, and his grandmother glanced up in surprise for a moment. It was the first time she had known him manoeuvre to get his fiancee alone.
Anna rose unwillingly. She could not refuse without eliciting some caustic remark from one or other of them, but in view of recent events she did not much care to be alone with Rick.
They walked along the terrace without speaking. The closing hour of the day was shot with shadow and fading light. A mist rose from the wasteland, creeping over the ha-ha and across the lawns. Birdie's topiary presented a dark array of fearsome shapes.
