The black Hunter

by Donnelly, Jane

  She would talk to Thea tomorrow, before they got themselves tied up too tightly on legal jargon, and advise her to read the small print in any contract very carefully.

  In the silence Tip yapped again and Coll said, 'I think he might have come up against that hedgehog.'

  Dora closed the front door behind her, and walked slowly down the steps out of the glow of light thrown from the house. When she reached the shadows she stood, until her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, calling, `Tip—Tip, here, boy!'

  He would come in his own time, he wasn't terribly well trained, but the barking had been because he had found himself trotting home alone, not because he had tracked down a quarry. She walked through the trees that edged the drive, with the barking growing louder

  and closer, and when the little black and white dog came, wagging his tail, jumping up at her, she gave him a hug.

  'You were quite a help just now,' she said. 'I could have been stuck in there for another hour or two if you hadn't been out here.'

  Of course she wasn't going back, and Coll could please himself what he did about it, and she hoped he would call the whole thing off. She had walked out. He had tried to give the orders and she had simply walked out, and she went on walking now, striding down the drive towards the lodge, taking deep breaths of the clean night air.

  This would show him that she didn't come to heel for any man, and she went faster until she realised that she was running, heading for the lodge like a rabbit bolting for its burrow.

  She stopped then and stood still, and Tip, running just ahead, stopped too and came back, and sat watching her, head on one side, small sharp ears pricked.

  If she didn't go back Coll would know she was afraid of him. It wouldn't be an act of defiance, it would be admitting that she was scared.. But if she could make herself go back that wouldn't be his victory, it would be hers, an exercise in discipline over herself.

  He wouldn't expect her back, that should give her the advantage of surprise for a little while. She would say, 'Well, and what else do we have to discuss tonight?' Then he might agree that they had nothing, and she could leave without him guessing that she was scared. -

  She was sure he wouldn't be expecting her, but the front door that she had closed behind her opened

  when she touched it, and as she and Tip stepped into the hall Coll looked across at her from behind the reception counter. The phone was there, he might have been phoning. 'Booking in customers?' she enquired.

  'We must get this out.' He touched the counter. `Together with the rest of the hotel stuff we're not wanting. Can you check that tomorrow?'

  She followed him into the drawing room. There was another log on the fire, it had been burning low, and although the night, was warm Tip trotted to lie down as close as possible, nose on paws, eyes staring into the glow.

  `I'll do as much as I can,' she said, 'after work.' Bendix and Hewitt have just dispensed with your services,' he announced.

  'What did you say?' She'd heard him, she knew what he was saying. Her gasp was protest and fury because he had been on that phone just now interfering intolerably in her affairs. 'Who have you been talking to?' she gritted. 'Neil, haven't you? You've phoned Neil.'

  He adjusted the log with his foot, so that sparks shot up. 'Would you believe he phoned me?'

  'I would not. Why should he phone you?'

  `Because he tried to ring you at the lodge, then he tried here,' he said with a maddening air of explaining everything, and it was a possible chain of events.

  She demanded, `So what did you tell him?'

  'That you'd gone to get the dog in and you'd be back in a few minutes.'

  So he had expected her back, unless he had said that to annoy Neil. It wouldn't have been much fun, working her months, notice out for Neil, but it would have

  been better than being pitch forked into Coll Sullivan's full-time service.

  `And that you're starting work for me,' said Coll blandly, 'and I'd appreciate it if he'd settle for a week's notice instead of a month's. He said you weren't to worry about him, you could start with me tomorrow and he hoped you'd be very happy.'

  'He didn't mean it.'

  He pretended to misunderstand. 'He didn't hope you'd be happy?'

  No, he probably didn't, and she certainly wouldn't. 'He didn't mean that it would be all right if I left him high and dry, without any notice,' she said shrilly. 'I shall go in in the morning and discuss with Neil how to make this break, causing the least possible inconvenience to him and his firm.'

  'You've grown into a very considerate lady,' he said, with mock admiration.

  'I hope I have.'

  'Suppose he tries to persuade you to change your mind?'

  She would have loved to say, 'I'll let him, I'd rather be working for him than you any day,' but Neil would very likely prefer another secretary in the circumstances. 'He won't,' she said.

  'Or asks you to put that ring back on your finger?'

  If Neil had been so anxious to talk to her tonight he might have wanted to make up the quarrel, but not after Coll had talked with him. Anyhow it wouldn't have worked. 'No,' she said.

  'What was the trouble?'

  He still stood by the fireplace and she walked towards a chair because she felt awkward, standing stiffly, glaring and snapping out her words. 'None of your

  business,' she told him for the second time.

  'Jealous, is he?' he enquired affably.

  It was pretty obvious from the timing of the quarrel that she might have had words with Neil about this man from her past who had kissed her on meeting.

  She didn't sit down. If this was going on she wasn't staying, and Coll said, 'Coming third on your list the poor chap's bound to have qualms. If I'd known how things were I'd have shaken hands when we met again instead of kissing you.'

  'You had nothing to do with it,' she lied, 'and don't bother to apologise for the kiss, because that bothered nobody, least of all me. I looked upon it as a handshake.'

  'Really?' He reached her in a couple of strides, swift and silent, like something that stalks and strikes, and took her hand and in the same movement pulled her into his arms, so that her head jerked back and she had a brief glimpse of dark eyes and chiselled mouth. His mouth touched hers as her lips stretched in what might have been a scream, covering, silencing, and for a moment they were locked together in a travesty of a deep and passionate kiss.

  Then he loosed her and her knees buckled, and she sat down on the chair just behind her, looking up at him with loathing. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' she gasped thickly.

  'Demonstrating the difference between a kiss and a handshake.'

  'You—are—revolting!' She had to gulp in breath between each word, she felt as though she had been running for miles.

  'You haven't changed much either,' he said. Dora was sure her hair was standing on end, but he didn't

  have a hair out of place. He was cool as a cucumber, and so calm that her blazing outrage was dampened down.

  She had claimed sexual experience. He had no right to touch her, much less kiss her in that fashion, but she could hardly react now like a threatened virgin. She would not for the world have had him suspect that was what she was. She would be as blase as he, and she said coldly, 'I thought you said this was to be a hands-off arrangement.'

  `So I did.' He sounded as though she was reminding him of some small unimportant clause. 'Would it bother you if I tried to seduce you?'

  He was needling her, trying to shock and harass her, and she made a small grimace. 'You couldn't bother me, you might bore me.'

  That wasn't true. He could have her on a rack of tension. He stood looking down at her, and from somewhere she remembered his breath on her cheek, in a forgotten moment of closeness. She really did detest him. The conceit of it, suggesting that she couldn't resist him!

  'Seduction's no risk,' she said scornfully, 'but I'd like your assurance that you don't go in for rape.'

  'You have it.' He
chuckled, 'Perhaps we should have that written into the contract. How shall we word it?'

  `Do you mind?' She got up, throwing it all off as a poor joke. I've had enough. Can I go home now?'

  'You wouldn't like your old room?'

  'In your house? Not likely!'

  'Shall I walk you home?' he offered.

  'Why?'

  'Protection?'

  'Who'd protect me against you?' she enquired cuttingly, and he laughed.

  `Goodnight, Dora-Lily.'

  `Don't—' She was going to say, 'Don't call me that,' but it was too trivial to make an issue of. She had more to worry about than him tacking Lilias on to Dora. `Don't bother to see me out,' she said. 'Goodnight. Come on, Tip,' and she walked out again into the night, and once more made her way towards the comparative safety of her own small home.

  She would talk to Thea tomorrow, she'd tell her about the pearls and about tonight. Thea would be concerned about the pearls. It didn't say much for his character that Coll Sullivan had been a thief, but she would be more amused than shocked to hear that he had just made a pass at Dora.

  She thought that Dora was able to look after herself in most man–woman situations, and Dora was, of course. You could be a virgin and still know your way around. It didn't mean you were naïve. It was more likely to mean that you kept a cool head and your wits about you.

  Dora wasn't going to lose her head over a man she heartily disliked, but she was realising now that she had challenged him with her antagonism.

  `There's no danger of you seducing me,' she had said, so he would almost certainly try. Coll always had to win, and if anything could make her run it would be him, circling her, closing in, marking her down as prey.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AT first sight of Neil next morning Dora choked up. She didn't know whether she ought to be starting with an apology or an explanation. But she felt she was in the wrong, and Neil wasn't going to help.

  She was at her small desk in his office, with the morning mail around her. He was a few minutes late and he had stomped through the outer office, grunting at the good mornings he'd received, flung open his door, and stood transfixed when he spotted Dora.

  Then he demanded accusingly, 'What are you doing here?' as though she was a burglar.

  Jenny the filing clerk, nearest the door, gasped. She knew there was only Dora in there, and Dora was Mr Hewitt's secretary and fiancée, and why shouldn't she be in his office?

  As he shut the door behind him Jenny asked the rest of the outer office, there were three of them, 'What's biting him?'

  'Didn't you expect me?' said Dora.

  'Not after last night.' Neil hung up his lightweight mac carefully on a hanger on the hatstand, and placed his briefcase squarely on his desk. Then he sat down, looking severe and dignified, and after a few seconds Dora asked him,

  'What did Coll say?'

  'That you were going to work for him,' said Neil huffily.

  'Yes, I suppose I am.' She had opened about half the post. She had one letter half out of the envelope. She took it out and wondered whether she should read it

  or whether Neil would prefer her to drop everything and leave immediately.

  He was glowering at her, and she said, 'That's what we were discussing last, night—work.' Then she remembered Coll kissing her savagely and brutally, and her face flamed as guiltily as though it had been her doing.

  Neil would have had to be blind not to suspect that she was hiding something, but if she told him everything it wouldn't help. He would interpret it his way, and he had misjudged her every action since Coll Sullivan returned.

  If she said, 'I can't stand the man, but he kissed me last night and warned me he'll try to make love to me,' Neil would assume she had flirted with Coll. 'So why are you going to work for him?' he'd ask her, and lie wouldn't accept anything as good enough reason.

  She said, 'He's investing in the antique shop and we're going to get the house how he wants it, and I'm going to do some secretarial work.'

  He eyed her burning face and said nothing, and Dora began to read the letter she had just opened because she could look down at it and avoid his gaze.

  One of Neil's clients thought he had been overcharged in income tax and was explaining at length why. 'Why are you here?' Neil demanded abruptly, and she asked,

  'Don't you want me to stay until you find a replacement?'

  He didn't realise how much she did, nor how awkward it would be for him if he didn't let her hand over to her successor, explaining all sorts of things.

  'I'd rather get a temp in,' he said vehemently, as though he would prefer anyone, untrained, unco-

  operative, anything, rather than her, and she said, 'I understand.'

  'Mother expected this all along.'

  Dora put the opened mail on top of the unopened and began to take small personal belongings out of her drawers and drop them into her handbag. She didn't have much here, but she couldn't come back for it. Neil sounded as though he would put everything she left behind into the dustbins the moment she walked out of the door.

  'Mother said I'm lucky you haven't treated me like you did Peter Marsden,' he said bitterly, and Dora curled up inside. Mrs Hewitt would say that! She never wanted Neil to marry, but getting the ring back within days would be a blow to any mother's pride in her son.

  'Your mother's right,' she said. 'You deserve someone nicer than me.'

  She went out of the office wearing her coat loose over her shoulders, carrying her bulging handbag, and Jenny chased her into the pavement to ask, 'What's the matter?'

  'I've got another job,' said Dora.

  'You haven't?' Jenny looked for Dora's ring and squealed, 'You're not wearing your ring! I say, is it all off?'

  'Yes.'

  Jenny trotted beside her into the yard where the cars were parked. She would have loved to ask lots of questions but Dora was walking fast and didn't seem in a mood for talking. When she got into her Mini she gave Jenny a wan smile.

  'See you, Jen,' she said.

  She drove carefully because she was feeling shaky.

  She was sure that Neil would be happier with another secretary since the engagement had ended, but the parting should have been less acrimonious. Coll had done that last night. If Dora had handed in her notice herself she would have made it less abrupt, and tried to explain and apologise.

  She wondered again who had phoned who. She had meant to ask Neil if Coll had called him the moment her back was turned, or if it had been Neil seeking her out. She also wondered what Coll had said to Neil when they were alone in the Manor on Sunday evening, with Simon and Thea going through the upstairs rooms, and Dora standing by her old bedroom window watching night fall.

  'I can't imagine what they're finding to talk about,' she had said to Thea, but Thea's, 'Can't you?' had sounded as though Thea had ideas on the subject.

  Dora, maybe! They could have been discussing her. Beforehand Neil had been suspicious and touchy, but afterwards he had been riven with jealousy, furiously demanding impossible promises.

  How dare he? Coll, not Neil. Neil was not a daring man, he had probably never taken a real chance in his life. Except in asking Dora to marry him, because with her record she had to be a risk.

  Her first engagement had been too soon, she had been too young, barely eighteen. At that time everyone was sorry for her, her father's death was fresh in their minds and the changed fortunes of the Holcrofts was still a shock. Patrick was a prosperous farmer's son, and he could have offered her a life not all that different from the one she had been born to.

  There were horses in the stables behind the farmhouse and he couldn't see why Dora was taking a

  shorthand-typing course when she would have been happier riding and enjoying herself. And he couldn't see why she wouldn't marry him right away, and then she would have had their home to occupy herself with because she couldn't like living in the old lodge with old Granny Drayton.

  When she got through her course sh
e took her first job, and was almost relieved that Patrick made a fuss about it because by then she knew that she didn't want to marry him.

  There was a fuss, but it died down and two years later Patrick married another girl, and the only reason Dora and Simon were no longer close friends with Patrick's family and friends was that they couldn't afford to be. They were in a different income bracket, but Dora had never regretted parting from Patrick.

  The second engagement was the one she felt worst about, because she was older by then and she should have known better, but Peter Marsden was the most importunate in her circle of admirers. She always had admirers, she was an attractive-looking girl with a lively personality that drew friends and would-be lovers to her.

  Peter Marsden managed a largish electrical shop in town and he and Dora were supposed to be getting married at Easter. It was all arranged, that was the dreadful part. The wedding reception, the honeymoon, everything had been arranged. She had her wedding dress, and Thea was to be matron of honour, and then she knew she couldn't go through with it.

  All along she had tried to slow things down, but there was the flat over the shop where Peter worked and she thought she loved him, until the panic began to build up.

  `What's wrong with me?' she asked herself a hundred times. 'I do love him. My heart melts when he touches me, and I like him, and there's no one I'd rather spend the rest of my life with, but I can't marry him.'

  She ran to Thea, just a week before she should have been married, and started babbling incoherently, `What am I going to do? Everybody says it's pre-wedding nerves, but it isn't, I can't marry him. What am I going to do?'

  Up till then Thea had suggested it was pre-wedding nerves too, but then she had said, 'We'd better start sending back the wedding presents.'

  There had been much more fuss that time, and Dora could understand why Neil and his mother were congratulating themselves they hadn't featured in a repetition of that. It was plain that she wasn't meant to marry. She was allergic to marriage, although with Thea and Simon as her closest examples she should have been all for it.