by Jane Corrie
`I'll take the easel and the case,' he said curtly.
Beth noticed he said nothing about the car, but she had a nasty suspicion that he knew exactly what had happened.
`Where's the rope?' he asked, staring at her empty hands.
Beth walked to where she had left the rope, but there was no sign of it—or the tree stump. She frowned in bewilderment. 'It was right here,' she said. `It couldn't have come undone. Even the stump's gone,' she added indignantly.
`Are you telling me you moored it in a mango swamp?' he said in a voice that held a certain amount of incredulity in it, then as if his patience were exhausted, he shouted, 'To a mango stump? I just don't believe it !'
Beth swallowed; how was she to know it was a mango swamp? She stole a look at him and was relieved to note that he appeared to be lost for words, for which she was exceedingly grateful. Of course she had to ruin everything by stupidly asking, 'What do we do now?'
The question so irritated him that he found his voice, and very vocal he was too. Fortunately for Beth, she didn't understand a word he was saying, but she was sure he was swearing in what was probably an old native dialect.
Wisely keeping her distance, she eyed him warily, noticing a little sadly that his outburst had not helped much, because he was still furious with her when he had finished.
Grabbing her easel and stool, he jerked his head in the direction of the bay. 'Come on,' he said tersely,
`and watch where you put your feet. Follow my steps exactly.' He gave her a glare. 'Do you think you can manage to do that?'
Considering the question not worth answering, Beth followed his tall back, as he slowly retraced his steps to the edge of the bluff, glancing round every now and again as if he couldn't trust her to carry out even this simple task.
It was very slow going, and Beth was glad she had only her box of paints to carry, Gavin having swept everything else up. Eventually they arrived at the edge of the bay, and it was a very thin edge, for there was only just about room to stand. The tide had evidently started receding, although it would be a slow process.
The boat, Beth saw, had not been carried out far, and her anxious eyes searched for traces of the rope that might have got caught up somewhere on the slight incline they had just descended, but there was no sign of, it, and her gaze returned to the boat now bobbing up and down with the motion of the tide.
Beside her, Gavin unceremoniously dumped her gear down on the damp slip of land they stood on, and slipping off his sandals, then removing his heavy sweater, he waded into the water and was soon striking out with practised strokes towards the boat.
With a certain amount of relief, Beth watched as he reached it and climbed aboard, and soon the welcome sound of a motor springing into life was heard, and it was heading back towards her.
Bringing the boat in as near as he could, Gavin signalled her to wade out to him. He was taking no
chances of leaving it again, she noticed, and knew she would have to make more than one trip out to the boat with the amount of stuff she had to convey to it.
As she had picked up his sweater and sandals the moment he had gone to rescue the boat, taking no chances of them getting wet, she felt that they were first priority, and grabbing her easel she made the first trip out with them. For a moment it looked as if he might insist that she got in the boat and left the rest of the stuff right where it was, but Beth had no intention of doing this. Her picture was getting more costly as time went on, and she felt she deserved some compensation, and was off to collect it before he could do anything about it.
At last they were off, and by now it was dark. Beth, sitting facing a grim Gavin, shivered as she felt the first force of the cold evening breeze, and began to worry about the silent man steering the boat wheel in front of her. His sweater still lay on the seat opposite her, and his brawny chest was bare; the thick hair still held water, from which small rivulets trickled. If she was cold, so must he be. She picked up the sweater and managing to catch his attention held it out to him. His curt, Not to bother,' made her feel terrible. He might just have said he had had enough of her help for one evening.
She hadn't even thanked him, she realised with a pang of remorse. 'I haven't thanked you,' she said quickly. 'I don't know what I would have done if you ...'
She was not allowed to finish, for he cut in with a
biting, 'It's Janice you should thank. Luckily for you, she had to go back to the cottage, and saw the map you'd been looking at.'
Beth bit her lip and gazed out to sea. Why had Janice asked for his help, of all people? Why hadn't she got Johnny to look for her? Because Johnny didn't own a power boat, that was why, she told herself bitterly.
`I must say,' he went on coldly, 'she seems to understand the workings of your mind remarkably well, and was convinced you wouldn't have had the sense to realise that such things as tides exist. She put it down to your artistic bent—said you'd still be painting away while the water was lapping around you. And she was right, wasn't she? Although I don't share her view on the subject of artistic talent—crass stupidity, I'd call it. The areas of swamp are clearly marked on that map, but you didn't take the trouble to note that, did you?' he flung at her.
Beth did not answer—there was no point. From his point of view it was crass stupidity, and there was no getting away from it. In a way, she deserved the lecture he was giving her. If it made him feel better, she didn't mind a bit.
— The twinkling lights of the harbour now came into view, and Beth wanted to shout with relief that her ordeal was over, but soon found that she had been a little presumptuous.
`In future,' he said harshly, 'you will provide your sister with your exact movements each day: I do not intend to allow another incident of this nature to take place. I shall feel a great deal easier in my mind
if I know your whereabouts each day. That way,' he added sarcastically, 'I can judge what services, land, sea, or air, might be deemed necessary to accommodate your next rash move.'
Still Beth remained silent. Land, sea, and air ! —she had impressed him, hadn't she?
`This arrangement,' he went on, 'will be continued until Janice's wedding, after which, I presume, you will be leaving.' Beth, gazing out to sea, felt the hard stare he gave her as he added meaningly. 'Any other arrangement is quite out of the question. I trust you understand me?'
She understood only too well. So he did know of Janice's plans for her, and was telling her quite categorically that there wasn't a chance. Well, she knew that, didn't she? As if she wanted to work for him anyway ! Managing to inject a note of acid sweetness into her voice, she murmured, 'Janice can be so simple at times.'
He nodded grimly. `So I've noticed,' he replied cuttingly. 'She's certainly got a blind spot where you're concerned—seems to think you want looking after. In one sense I entirely agree with her, only I would say you need watching out for, rather than looking after!' He gave her another piercing look. `Isn't it about time you grew up,' he asked harshly, `and stopped leaning on your sister?'
Beth's sudden start did not go unnoticed by him and
he looked gratified that he had got under her guard at
last. 'Oh, I've heard about some of your escapades
as a child, and how Janice had to smooth things over
for you—not that I saw it that way at the time, but
having since become acquainted with you, I can see how it must have been. I think Janice deserves some peace now, don't you? I also intend to see that she gets it,' he added ominously.
Beth sat very still; through her shocked senses came the thought of Janice's reaction had she been priviledged to hear her boss's summing up of their relationship. Of all the pompous, misguided, hateful men ...! She bit hard on her lip to stem the words she wanted to shout at him. But worse than this was the feeling that she wanted to cry. She had never leant on anyone—least of all on Janice. It was the main reason why she had left Nicholas. He had tried to turn her into just such a creature, and here
was this ghastly man levelling this charge against her ... It was the last straw !
When the boat came up against the harbour steps, she leapt out, and still clutching her picture made her way up the steps. The rest of the stuff could sink to the bottom of the bay for all she cared! The man, too !
She had almost reached the top of the steps when he caught her up, and she gave no sign that she had heard his authoritative, 'Wait here,' as he walked over to one of the harbour offices and disappeared inside. But Beth kept on walking, keeping her lips pressed together tightly to prevent them trembling, hoping to hold the tears at bay. She walked out of the harbour and into the town, having no clear idea of where she was going but just wanting to put a healthy distance between herself and that man.
A few seconds later she heard the sound of a car,
and it slowed down when it reached her. Opening the door, Gavin said curtly, 'Get in. I'm late enough now.'
`Then you'd better get a move on,' snapped Beth, done with politeness. 'I'm getting a taxi.'
She had only gone a few yards when she found herself picked up as if she were a rag doll and taken back to the car, and thrown into the back seat. Her dander was well and truly up by then, and she smartly started to get out again.
He stood surveying her, with hands on his hips. 'I shouldn't if I were you,' he threatened. 'If I have to collect you again, you'll get the good hiding I've been wanting to give you for some time.'
As much as Beth disliked Gavin Patterson, she respected the fact that he was a man of his word, and sank back slowly on to the car seat, contenting herself with a glare at him. On no account was she going to give him the satisfaction of carrying out his threat.
When he had settled himself back in the driving seat, he met her furious eyes in the driving mirror. `I'll give you some good advice for what it's worth,' he ground out. 'Go back to the poor devil you jilted. You're not likely to find anyone else willing to put up with your tantrums.'
Again the urge to cry came over her, and again she smothered the feeling. He'd only put it down as a childish act to gain his sympathy.
The minute the car pulled up outside Chartways, Janice rushed out of the house. Did you find her?' she asked.
`All safe and sound,' Gavin replied harshly, as he
got out of the car. 'How much time have I got?' he asked, dismissing the subject of Beth as if of no consequence.
`Fifteen minutes,' answered Janice, now back to being the efficient secretary.
`I'll just make it, then,' he answered as he strode towards the house. Beth, watching his departing back, gave a sigh of relief, only to be gasping with indignation the next as, suddenly recalling her presence, he looked back towards the car. 'Find something for that sister of yours to do. It's time she made herself useful,' he said sharply.
Janice, about to accompany him back into the house, turned and walked back to the car, then bent and peered into the back seat. 'Beth?' she asked, in a surprised sort of way. 'I thought Gavin might have dropped you off at the cottage.'
`No such luck,' answered Beth feelingly as she got out of the car.
Catching the misery in her voice, Janice placed a comforting arm round her shoulders. 'I do wish you'd told me where you were going, pet,' she said. 'I could have told you about the swamps, and how you'd have to watch the tide. Was it very bad?' she asked.
Not half as bad as the time she had had to spend with her maddening boss, Beth thought, but she answered truthfully enough. 'I kept thinking of crocodiles,' she told Janice, 'and tried to convince myself there weren't any.'
Janice's eyes opened wide. 'I never thought of that,' she said slowly. 'I must ask Gavin about that.'
The girls walked towards the house, and Janice
gave Beth's arm a squeeze. 'Thank goodness you're safe,' she murmured in a heartfelt voice, and gave a slight shudder. Beth knew she was considering the possibility of the reptiles actually being there. Her concern was touching; it was nice to know that someone loved her, she thought peevishly.
Another thought struck Janice as they entered the house, and she clutched at Beth's arm in excitement. `Do you think Gavin's considering the possibility of you taking over from me?' she asked. 'He did say I was to find you something to do, didn't he?' she added hopefully.
Beth gave her a pitying look. Talk about incurable optimists ! 'No dear,' she answered positively. `We don't get on—or haven't you noticed?'
Janice sighed. 'Oh, well, you never know. Come on, I'll see if I can find something for you to do.'
However, after they had moved into the well-lit part of the house, Janice stared in dismay at Beth's muddied jeans and even more muddied sandals. 'You can't possibly stand around in those ! ' she wailed.
A light appeared in Beth's eyes. 'I'll go back to the cottage and change, shall I?' she asked innocently, with no intention of coming back.
Seeing the light, Janice shook her head. 'Oh, no, you don't,' she said firmly. `If Gavin thinks you can' help—then you'll help ! '
`He's your boss, not mine,' retaliated a disappointed Beth.
`You did,' reminded Janice, a little unfairly to Beth's way of thinking,. 'wreck his car. And he's John's boss as well, remember.'
Beth Stared at her. 'Is that the way he thinks?' she demanded. 'Your boss, I mean? That I owe him something? I did offer to pay for the wretched thing, but he ignored the offer,' she added bitterly.
Janice grinned at her. 'Of course not, silly. He's not petty-minded. No, it was just that I thought it would be a good opportunity of showing him you can be useful. I also think it's time you two buried the hatchet,' she said confidently.
In whose head?' queried the sceptical Beth.
Janice giggled. 'Well, you know what I mean. You could at least try,' she argued soberly. `To please me?' she pleaded coaxingly.
Beth shrugged noncommittally, then sighed. For Janice's sake only, she might just do that, the only thing she could be sure of was that it wouldn't make a bit of difference as far as her boss was concerned. If he went down on his knees, she still wouldn't take the job as his secretary! A little voice inside whispered, `Chance would be a fine thing' and she smiled at her thoughts, then looked back at Janice still anxiously watching her. 'Very well,' she said, adding warningly, 'And don't say it's my fault if things don't work out.' She looked down at her jeans and sandals, and sighed again. 'I'll have to change, you know. I'll be as quick as I can,' she promised the now happy Janice.
After a shower, Beth changed into a dress. She saw no reason to wear evening dress—she was going to work, wasn't she? As she left the cottage, she looked longingly towards the studio door, and wished she hadn't made such a rash promise to Janice. She
simply couldn't think what she could do when she got back there—or just what Gavin Patterson had in mind for what he'd consider suitable labour for her kind of talents—washing-up, probably, she thought miserably. Not that she minded that, it would keep her out of his eagle eye. Her thoughts drifted on as she walked back to Chartways. Janice had denied that he was of the opinion that she owed him something, but Beth was sure that those were his exact thoughts on the matter. It was for this reason really that Beth had agreed to fall in with Janice's suggestion—apart, that was, from pleasing her, for she hadn't been able to get the uncomfortable thought out of her mind that she did owe him quite a lot, and as he wouldn't send her a bill for repairs, some other way had to be found for repayment.
When Beth arrived, Janice looked a little askance at the dress, as if to suggest that Beth should have worn evening wear. However, she said nothing, but took her through to the vast kitchen area and introduced her to the cook. Beth, thinking Gavin Patterson really had found a job for her, prepared herself for the washing-up duty, enquiring where the aprons were kept.
Janice chuckled. `Stupid!' she scolded mildly. 'I've a more entertaining job for you than that. You're going to help me serve the drinks in the drawing room after dinner. Mrs Jackson will find you some food, so that you can have your meal in here
while we're at dinner.'
Beth would have preferred the washing-up ! She didn't fancy trailing about with a tray of drinks under
the no doubt watchful eye of Gavin Patterson. Something was bound to go wrong—it had on every other occasion—so it would on this. 'Must I?' she pleaded. `Honestly, I'd rather stay out here.'
Janice gave her her schoolmarmish look. 'Beth! ' she exclaimed exasperatedly. 'You promised ! '
A miserable Beth nodded her head at her. 'I'll help in the drawing room,' she agreed wearily.
The summons, and that was just how Beth looked on it, came in no time at all to quash the hopeful expectation that Janice had let her off the hook, and she joined her in a small ante-room off the drawing room, where Johnny was busy dispensing drinks to be circulated among the guests.
With hands that slightly trembled, making the sherry in the fine cut glasses slop over on to the tray, Beth made her debut. As soon as she entered the well appointed room she knew without looking on which side of the room her arch-enemy stood, and stayed well out of reach by serving the groups of people nearest the ante-room, noting with a sigh of relief that Janice had taken on the other side of the room.
No matter what, Beth was not serving Gavin Patterson or any of the small knot of friends gathered around him. When her tray was empty, she returned to the side room to replenish it again. There seemed to be a lot of people there; Janice had said it was a business dinner, some sort of a trade conference, but even so, thought Beth, it hadn't taken Gavin Patterson's mind off her, for he watched her constantly—waiting, she presumed, for her to trip up and spill sherry over some dowager's expensive gown.
Her chin tilted a little at this thought. Well, he was going to be disappointed. Just for once, she was going to make things go right. After all, there wasn't much that could go wrong, as long as she was careful not to tilt the tray. Nearly everyone was standing up, except the old gentleman who had sat himself in a club chair near the side room, in a position, Beth suspected, to. be first in the drinks queue.