'This is easy,' boasted Jimmy.
Liz wandered around beneath the trees until a plaintive miaow above her head made her stop and look up. The boys, tired of the easy trees, came running up, following her gaze.
'There's a kitten up there,' said Jimmy excitedly. 'Can't it get down?'
'I'm not sure,' answered Liz, watching it carefully. 'Normally, if they can get up they can get down, but this one seems stuck.'
'I could go and get it down,' suggested Danny.
'This one is much too difficult for you.' Liz stared speculatively up at the tall tree in question, noting possible footholds. 'In fact, I bet even I'd have difficulty.' A guffaw of laughter exploded behind her and, turning, she saw the two boys looking at her with deep scepticism on their faces. So that's the way the land lies, she thought.
'What do you mean—ha, ha!' she demanded.
Jimmy composed his face and said quite kindly, 'Well, I mean to say, women don't climb trees, they aren't able to.'
'That's all you know, buster,' Liz retorted, and had Simon been there he might have been able to put them right and stopped her doing something she would later regret. But Simon was not there. He was acting his age and drinking tea.
Liz pursed her lips. 'So you don't think women climb trees, eh?'
'Of course not.' This from Danny, following faithfully in older brother's footsteps.
'And if I said I'd climbed more trees than you've had hot dinners?'
The boys grinned appreciatively at the expression but were obviously not convinced. Liz looked up at the kitten which stared unwinkingly down at her. It was a pretty thing, all black apart from a white star on its forehead and white socks on its paws. It miaowed pathetically again. Liz looked towards the house, then at the kitten and back to the boys, whose eyes were beginning to light up at her actions.
'I dare you.' said Jimmy casually, as if he knew that a mere girl could not know the implications attached to a dare. Up to then Liz could have wangled her way out of it, but all her childhood instincts now came rushing to the fore. The honour of future girlhood was at stake! These two embryo males had got to be taught that they had not precedence in everything. Tally-ho!
'Right,' Liz said grimly. 'You just keep a look-out and if anyone comes, pretend I'm not about.'
They whooped with glee. 'We promise, we promise!'
Liz surveyed the tree with an experienced eye, noticing that the kitten had retreated even higher now. Only giving her poor trouser suit a momentary thought, she began her ascent. It was a difficult climb, but spurred on by the two pairs of round eyes below and the one pair above she surpassed difficulties which surprised even herself. She was halfway up, within two yards of reaching the kitten, when she heard Danny's hoarse: 'Cave!' and as she was amongst a fairly thick part of the foliage, she sat still, peering carefully through the leaves, to find that nearly the whole of the family had come out for a breath of fresh air.
'Ye gods!' groaned Liz. One or even two she could have braved, but not all that lot.
Adam and Simon passed below talking cars, while the rest thankfully remained nearer the house, admiring the rose garden. Liz was just deciding that she would have to own up and take the consequences when Helen appeared at the window holding Emma, and that dispersed the female contingent. Her father, bless him, then disappeared with most of the menfolk towards the conservatory, leaving Adam and Simon still deep in conversation. Two to go. Liz did not mind Simon, of course, but Adam was another matter. To her relief they began to walk back towards the house and when they were just beneath her tree, a shout from the house that Simon was wanted on the telephone left Adam. One down and one to go, and if Liz knew anything with certainty it was that this particular 'one' would prove more awkward than all the rest put together.
The two brothers were leaning against the tree, looking much too innocent between bouts of giggling. Hands in pockets, Adam eyed them suspiciously.
'Hello, you two horrors. What are you up to, I wonder?'
'We aren't up to anything, Uncle Adam,' the wretched Jimmy protested innocently.
'Mm… well, you won't have the chance for mischief now, thank goodness. There's your mother calling you for you to go in and have tea. I expect you'll have to go fairly early, you've a long journey to make. Here.' Digging his hand further into his pocket, he tossed them both a coin and with a 'Gosh, thanks a lot, Uncle Adam!' they ran into the house.
Perfidious creatures! thought Liz in disgust. Chocolate cake and monetary gain banishing all thoughts of poor me up in the tree. Me and the kitten both. It gazed down at her, its tail waving slightly. Bother the man. Was he going to stand there all day? She was just inching her way off a particularly protruding piece of bark when, without looking up, Adam remarked casually:
'You can come down now, Elizabeth. The coast is clear.'
Liz nearly fell out of the tree in surprise. 'I might have known it!' she exclaimed crossly.
'So might I,' he echoed, the intonation heavy with meaning.
'You could have let on sooner, I was getting the cramp,' she complained, then gave a hollow, 'Oh!'
'What's the matter?' asked the resigned voice below.
'I climbed up in the first place to rescue a silly kitten and I can't see it any more. It must have gone higher.'
'I don't think so, Elizabeth.' The voice was amused now. She peered down to see the pretty kitten winding itself round Adam's ankles.
'Drat the thing!' exclaimed Liz, and then began to giggle. Climbing down gingerly, she sat and caught her breath on the lowest branch, and they both watched the kitten disappear down the path and through the hedge. 'The wretched thing was having me on all the time,' she complained. They stared at each other and then Adam said:
'Does this remind you of anything, Elizabeth?' and seeing her puzzlement, looked round saying, 'No dustbins, thank goodness.'
Liz glared down at him. 'I should be obliged if you would kindly remove yourself!'
'I'm sure you would, but it's sadly apparent that I've been ordained by the powers that be to be around when you get into… shall we say… circumstances beyond your control, and I have no faith in your ability to get from branch to ground without incurring a broken leg. I do not wish to have to scout the country for another DSM!'
Impasse. Liz swung her long legs pensively and grinned reluctantly.
'Well, I must admit that I was so keen to establish equality of the sexes that I'd forgotten that it's usually more difficult coming down than going up.' She pursed her lips. 'What do you suggest?' she asked with interest.
Adam sighed deeply, but his eyes gleamed. 'If you ask me nicely, I'll catch you.'
Silence while Liz contemplated her right toe. She eyed him wickedly.
'If I jump without asking you nicely… you'd catch me anyway.'
'Agreed,' answered Adam calmly, 'but I wouldn't like to count on the consequences,' and he flexed his arm in anticipation.
Liz gurgled with amusement. 'Dear, sweet, kind Mr Carlyon, will you please be an angel and assist me down?' she cajoled, head tilted and eyes brimming with laughter.
'Certainly, my dear Miss Browning,' adding as an afterthought, 'at least you'll spare my blushes this time.' He moved closer. 'Come. Swing yourself round and hang from the branch, then you'll not have so far to drop.' She did as she was told. 'Now, Elizabeth!' This time they did not even fall and Liz found herself once more in Adam Carlyon's arms.
'That was an ungentlemanly remark,' she said breathlessly.
'What was?'
'The one about my legs.'
'I never profess to being a gentleman, Elizabeth… so restricting, so boring.' He smiled teasingly. 'And as ladies never climb trees—we make quite a pair, don't we?'
'I have both feet on the ground now,' Liz pointed out.
'So you have,' he said, releasing her, 'and those feet requiring shoes.' He bent and picked them up from where she had left them in the undergrowth at the foot of the tree.
'So that's how you knew
I was up there!' said Liz, accepting his arm as she slipped them on.
'What do you think of your poetry book, Elizabeth?' he asked as they walked down the path.
'It's beautiful,' she enthused, 'and so clever of you to choose it—or did you ask Helen's advice?'
'My dear Elizabeth, how could I ask Helen when she knows nothing about the incident? No, I browsed through the books in your room that weekend I stayed with your family. You must forgive me, but books draw me like a magnet. I could see you enjoyed poetry, but there was not, so far as I could remember, a volume of your namesake. Of course, you could have bought a copy since, but that was a chance I had to take.'
'Book addiction is a dreadful mania to have,' agreed Liz. 'I'm just the same. Put me in a room with a bookcase and my feet take me there without my knowing it.' She stopped suddenly as Adam touched her hair.
'I'm removing a leaf, Elizabeth. Now that would have looked suspicious. You and I coming in together, perhaps holding hands, and you rosy-cheeked and hair tousled with leaves!'
An extraordinary picture came suddenly to her of lying in Adam Carlyon's arms on some mossy bank beneath the protecting bower of an overhanging tree. Wiping it almost angrily from her mind, she answered with exaggerated sweetness, 'I refuse to rise to the bait, Mr C,' and brushed her jacket and trousers for any other signs of her recent exertions.
'It will be the first time you haven't, then, Miss B,' came the quick retort as they entered the house.
Emma was being handed from grandparent to grandparent, to aunt and uncle and back again and loving every minute of it. Antonia was sitting next to Great-aunt Annie and as she saw Liz, a look of relief swept across her face.
'Here's Lizzie, Auntie, I know you want to talk to her too,' and leaping to her feet she passed Liz with an agonised look on her face. Liz, vowing to murder her dear cousin if she was given the chance, smiled brightly and sat in the "hot seat". She truly loved her aged aunt, but with Adam Carlyon close by she felt more than a little perturbed.
At seventy-two, Miss Annie Browning still had good hearing, but her eyesight was failing and she sported a lorgnette, which she used in a splendid dowager duchess style. She would have been a great hit on the stage.
'Hello, Aunt,' said Liz, watching in dismay as the lorgnette was immediately raised and her venerable relative peered intently at Carlyon.
'Introduce me to your fiancé, Elizabeth,' she commanded.
Liz closed her eyes in anguish. Surely, oh, surely, Great-aunt Annie had been told! She opened them to find Adam smiling gravely down at them, a peculiar expression in his eyes.
'Auntie! Mother must have told you that finished ages ago,' she said desperately, then raising her voice continued brightly: 'I don't believe you've met Adam Carlyon, our guest director at the theatre. Adam, this is my great-aunt, Miss Browning.'
Liz had to hand it to Adam. They could have been in the eighteenth century by the half-bow he gave and which Great-aunt Annie graciously acknowledged with a slight inclination of the head and a regal gesture of the hand.
'So this is Adam Carlyon.' She gave him a piercing look. 'I believe we were to have met before. Helen has spoken of you, she tells me that you have exceptional talent and are extraordinarily successful.'
He smiled and shrugged. 'Helen tends to exaggerate. Miss Browning, and I am by no means successful in everything.'
'Hum… I wouldn't imagine humility sits very easily upon your shoulders, Mr Carlyon.'
'No,' he answered regretfully, 'but they say retribution comes to everyone in time, Miss Browning.'
Liz, who was becoming slightly bewildered by the turn of the conversation, stiffened as her aunt said:
'I understand my great-niece is working for you at the moment, Mr Carlyon, but I'm not happy about it.' Liz groaned inwardly.
'You're not, Miss Browning?' he asked gently.
'Indeed no,' her aunt replied firmly, and the lorgnette was lifted once more. 'It is not the employment I should have chosen for my nieces, but I concede that the youth of today are better equipped to handle life than when I was a young girl. Nevertheless, Elizabeth has not the resilience that Helen has, she's vulnerable.' Her aunt patted Liz's hand. 'I'm very fond of Elizabeth, she's a good girl.'
'I don't think you need to worry about Elizabeth, Miss Browning,' came the serious reply, 'but if it sets your mind at rest I promise to keep my eye on her for you,' and the old lady nodded, apparently satisfied, he added persuasively: 'May I offer you some refreshment?'
'No, thank you, young man. When you reach my age you don't eat so much. But you can bring Elizabeth something. She's too thin.'
Liz, who had been sitting all this time getting more and more exasperated while she was discussed as if she wasn't there, watched Adam walk away, his mouth quivering slightly, and she resisted the urge to throw something.
'A very presentable young man, Elizabeth, very satisfactory. Knows his manners.' She gave Liz a birdlike look. 'Do you like him, eh?'
Heavens! thought Liz, trying to catch her mother's eye, it's worse than the Inquisition! 'He's a good director, Auntie.'
'That's not what I asked you, Elizabeth,' Miss Browning said dryly. 'Why is he not married?'
Liz gave up. It was obvious she had to see it through.
'I've no idea, Aunt. Perhaps he hasn't had the time,' was her ridiculous reply.
'Nonsense. You can't tell me that a man as attractive and intelligent as Adam Carlyon doesn't like the ladies.'
'Oh, he likes the ladies all right,' agreed Liz—and old ladies too, by the look of things. Her aunt shot her another glance.
'Mm… well, it seems he hasn't found the right one yet. The older you get, Elizabeth, the harder you are to please.'
Liz looked at her in surprise.
'Oh, yes, child, I had my chances. I let the one I ought to have married go, through pride, and never found anyone else to match up to him.' She raised the lorgnette. 'Ah, here comes the young man with your tea, Elizabeth. Fifty years ago he wouldn't have stood a chance… I'd have bagged him for myself!' and Great-aunt Annie rose to her feet and walked majestically out of the room.
Of course, the most sensible thing to do was to ignore him, but she had to see if he had heard—and he had. Liz grudgingly accepted a sandwich she did not want, saying sweetly:
'I bet that's made your day!' and seeing the question in his eyes added: 'Young man!'
He grinned. 'Well, I suppose at seventy-two someone of thirty-five is a mere stripling. Now don't get hot under the collar, Elizabeth. I think your great-aunt is a wonderful lady. I look forward to having a long chat with her some time about her great-niece Elizabeth.'
Liz choked on her sandwich and he. thumped her hard on the back. When she had caught her breath Liz smiled and said dangerously:
'Over my dead body!'
Rather late on cue, her mother bore down on her. 'Lizzie, my dear, I've hardly seen you to talk to all afternoon. You do look nice, that outfit suits you. And Adam, how are you? Hasn't everything gone smoothly? You both did very well, and Emma too, of course.' She kissed Liz and peered through the window. 'There's your father, he's just got Annie into the car, so I mustn't keep them waiting. Goodbye, darling. Goodbye, Adam. I'll give you a ring and we'll arrange a date for you to come over.'
'Thank you, Mrs Browning, I'd love to come,' said Adam, taking her hand.
'I'll come and see you off,' said Liz hurriedly before her mother had the chance to involve her too.
Gradually the house cleared until only the cousins and Adam were left. As Liz might have predicted, Antonia seemed to be getting on very well with Adam although the fact that they had mutual friends in London helped. Emma was bathed, fed, played with and put to bed.
'How about a game of Lexicon?' asked Helen.
'What, with Toni?' replied Simon in horror.
'Don't you worry, Pieman. We'll have the dictionary handy this time. I'm not a green girl any more, you know!' Antonia answered, eyes flashing.
'Simon al
ways used to cheat,' Liz explained to John and Adam.
'Put on a record, John,' asked Helen, placing the chairs in readiness around the table,' a nice, relaxing one. Heavens, I can do with something to soothe away the trials of this afternoon. Did you know, John, that those nephews of yours pinched all the cherries off the trifle? The horrors!'
Liz grinned: 'They always taste better if you pinch them.'
The evening passed in easy, comfortable companionship, and almost before they knew it, the clock struck half-past twelve and the visitors reluctantly made preparations for leaving.
'I'll drop you off, Antonia,' said Simon. 'Can you take Liz, Adam?'
'Of course,' assented Adam, but what else could the poor man say, thought Liz.
'Come on, then,' said Simon, pulling his cousin's hair. as he passed. 'I've got to get up in the morning even if you haven't.'
Antonia rose gracefully and gave a resigned shrug, following him out. John walked with them to the cars. They waved the Stag out of sight and then John kissed Liz and shook hands with Carlyon.
'Thank you both for officiating this afternoon.' He grinned. 'You're both lumbered with a part share of Emma now. You can't know how lucky you are to be leaving her —we've been having broken nights just lately!' They all laughed and Liz and Adam got into the Morgan.
'By the way, don't forget Harry Dean's arriving tomorrow, about two-thirty, I believe,' said John.
Adam nodded and gave a wave and the Morgan crept down the drive, Liz giving John a quick smile as they passed him. But she suddenly did not feel much like smiling.
'I'd forgotten he was coming,' she said, rather wistfully. 'I wish I…' She sighed. 'Oh, well…' and she relapsed into silence.
Adam obviously did not feel like talking either. When they reached the gateway to The Laurels, he pulled up but left the engine running. Getting out, he walked round and opened her door. By now, Liz was getting quite efficient at negotiating the Morgan, but this time she forgot about her hat.
'Whoops!' She laughed up at him but received no answering smile, in fact, far from smiling there was a suggestion of a frown on his face.
'Don't you like my hat?' she demanded, peeved by his lack of response.
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