Return to Lanmore

by Sheila Douglas

  CHAPTER SIX

  The hour or two stretched through into the evening. Nell found the children sprawled on the floor in the small sitting-room, in front of a log fire. Television blared unheeded in the corner, while Johnny and his younger brother argued over a game of cards. Their sister Jackie had retreated behind the sofa and was reading a battered old annual without much enthusiasm.

  Five minutes later they were happily engaged in an uproarious game of Beggar my Neighbour, and when Philip opened the door on them they were so engrossed that they didn't hear him. Nell was slamming her cards down with as much enthusiasm as the children, and shouting just as loudly, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, was surprised to see Philip returned so soon, and jumped quickly to her feet.

  His expression was a blend of curiosity and amusement. 'This is an unexpected pleasure, my dear Nell. To what do we owe the honour?'

  At once she felt a fool, an intruder, and only too conscious of her hot and untidy appearance. 'The children were bored,' she mumbled. 'They asked me to come over. But now that you're back ‑'

  Philip laid a firm hand on her shoulder. 'Please don't run away. You can't leave in the middle of a game.' He sat down and picked up a newspaper. 'Don't mind me, kids! If you can bear the noise, so can I!'

  So they finished the game, which ended in a victory for Johnny, though Nell, self-conscious now in Philip's presence, behaved with less abandon. She rose and turned a little awkwardly to him.

  'I didn't mean to intrude, but I thought you were all going to be out for some time. If I'd realised ‑'

  He stood as well. 'My dear girl, what are you apologising for? It was very kind of you to come, though they shouldn't have bothered you. If they'd listened to what I told them they'd have known I was only going out for half an hour.'

  He had been driving some of his visitors to the station, apparently. Everyone had left now, except for his sister's family. 'And your father and mother need the occasional break if they're to stay sane,' Philip ended with a ferocious glare at the three children.

  They threw themselves on him, giggling and demanding, 'Uncle Philip, can Nell stay for tea?'

  'Can she, Uncle Philip?'

  'She'll stay if you ask her.'

  'I'm not too sure of that,' joked Philip, one corner of his mouth quirking as he looked across the children's heads at Nell.

  She bit her lip, unsure if he really wanted her. Children were so tactless! He could hardly tell her to go away. 'I think I'd better get home,' she said hesitantly, and at that everyone, Philip included, looked disappointed.

  They asked her if she had anything special to do. Remembering the dreary relatives, Nell laughed and said no.

  'Then stay,' Philip urged. 'It'll make their day.'

  So she stayed and they had another game of Beggar my Neighbour, ate an enormous and delicious tea, played Snakes and Ladders and Sorry, and finally gathered round the fire to watch Philip perform conjuring tricks.

  'You're very good!' Nell exclaimed admiringly as he palmed coins dexterously and drew table tennis balls from the children's ears.

  'I think so too,' he agreed with cheerful lack of modesty. 'Should be after all the practice I've put in!'

  The telephone rang and he answered it. 'Oh, hallo, Elizabeth! Yes, she is still here. Do you want to speak to her? I see ... I'll pass it on. Goodbye, my dear.' As he replaced the telephone he told Nell that her relatives were leaving. 'Elizabeth seemed a little put out that you weren't there to say goodbye. I didn't realise you had visitors.'

  'I did my duty at lunch,' Nell retorted airily, to receive a thoughtful look.

  'Not a great girl for family life, are you?'

  Sensing criticism, she went pink. 'I have a lot of very stuffy relatives. Perhaps you're luckier in yours. Oh well, I suppose I'd better go and say goodbye.'

  'Elizabeth said there wasn't much point. That they were tired of waiting for you.'

  Then why had she bothered to ring? To make Nell feel awkward, more than likely. That was the way her aunt's mind seemed to work. Nell sighed, tried to think of something to say, but was spared the need because the children were clamouring for more conjuring tricks. Watching Philip juggling expertly with billiard balls a few minutes later, she marvelled at the change in the man. Or perhaps if she was honest the change was in herself.

  In the children's boisterous company she had forgotten her antagonism, relaxed, let her hair down, had fun. Perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgment, for in her experience anyone who was as good with children as Philip was must be a fundamentally decent person.

  When the children's parents returned the youngsters were borne off to bed. 'Much too late,' their mother reprimanded, 'and quite out of hand.' She gave her brother an affectionate look. 'Thanks for the respite, Phil. We needed a break,' and to Nell with genuine warmth, 'It was good of you to help. Give the girl a stiff drink. I'm sure she needs it!'

  Philip brushed aside Nell's protests that she really ought to go. 'They know where you are. Stay to supper—you've certainly earned it!'

  At ease with him as she had never been before, Nell accepted happily. The Moncktons were pleasant uncomplicated people, so that it was an agreeable foursome, and after supper Philip was persuaded to play the piano. Well fed and relaxed, Nell leant back in her chair, shut her eyes and became totally absorbed in the music.

  'James Fenton was right. Your brother is good enough to be a professional,' she said under her breath, when Philip stopped for a smoke.

  Alicia nodded with sisterly pride. 'Philip has all the talent in our family,' she remarked with engaging lack of envy. 'Just as well I'm a woman, so I don't have to compete.'

  'Are there only the two of you?'

  'Yes. We've always been close. I have a super brother, Nell. A pity he hasn't a family of his own.'

  'Perhaps he's thinking of getting married, though.' Nell's glance strayed round the room. 'It's such a lovely house, but far too big for a man on his own.'

  'Perhaps,' Alicia agreed with a smile. 'Though if he is he's keeping it very close. I think myself he just wanted a place in the country. We grew up on a farm, you know, and he missed the life when be started the London office.'

  'I didn't know,' said Nell.

  Alicia nodded and went on, 'A place like yours really. An old country house. Father wanted him to stay in Devon and run the estate, but Philip had other ideas. Our grandmother was on his side, and when she died she left him most of her money. So he launched into the electronics business. He'd have been wasted as a full-time farmer.'

  'So now he's a part-time one! Does he have a good manager?' Nell asked, thinking of the problems her grandfather had had.

  'An excellent one. Haven't you met him yet?' Alicia sounded faintly surprised, so she obviously didn't realise that this evening wasn't a typical one, Nell thought wryly.

  She probably assumed that they were good friends, living so close to each other.

  This cosy little chat was broken up as the men joined them by the fire. When Nell looked at the clock a few minutes later she was astounded to find that it was gone eleven. Philip insisted on walking her home when she turned down his offer of a lift.

  They stepped out briskly through the cold and starry night, not saying much, quiet and relaxed in a companionable sort of way. Nell came to a halt under the old wrought iron lantern that hung above the Manor's great front door. 'It's been nice, Philip,' and feeling that inadequate, 'No, it's been absolutely great. I enjoyed myself tremendously.'

  He smiled, put out a finger and ran it lightly down her smooth young cheek. 'I believe you really did. Know something? You've made a great hit with the kids.'

  They parted on the best of terms, but Nell's contentment was short-lived. As she tiptoed softly down the corridor to her bedroom Elizabeth spoke through her half open door.

  'It was tea you were invited to, wasn't it? I hope you didn't outstay your welcome.' The light voice had a peevish ring to it.

 
Nell pushed the door open, determined not to let herself be rattled. 'They wanted me to stay. Honestly, Aunt Elizabeth.'

  'I've told you before, I wish you'd drop the aunt.' She put down her book and beat a tattoo on the pink silk bedspread. 'Philip was probably just being polite. A bit ... gauche of you to think he meant it.'

  In just such a way had Elizabeth deflated the child Nell, many years ago. The unkind words no longer had power to hurt, because Nell was an adult now and could meet Elizabeth on equal terms.

  'Philip's not the sort of man to make polite gestures,'

  Nell said quietly. 'We had a super evening and you're not going to spoil it.'

  Elizabeth's laughter was a trifle forced. 'What a touchy little thing you are! I just don't like to see you make a fool of yourself.'

  'I don't know why you're so cross about it,' said Nell unwisely. 'You're always telling me to be more agreeable to Philip.'

  'Well, naturally I expect you to be courteous to my friends.' Elizabeth put on her long-suffering face. 'I shouldn't have to remind you, though, that Philip is my friend, not yours, Nell.'

  This was an astonishing remark from the poised and sophisticated Elizabeth. It had a ring of the nursery about it. Perhaps she had made similar remarks to her sister thirty years ago. Nell started to laugh and Elizabeth gave her a hostile look.

  'May I share the joke?'

  Nell bit her lip and made a helpless little gesture with one hand. 'I was thinking ...' Caution prevailed and she modified her original sentence, 'We sound like a pair of quarrelling children. He's my friend! No, he's mine! Honestly, Elizabeth, this is too silly.'

  She would have done better to stay silent. The hostile expression changed to one of outrage. Elizabeth had never had much sense of humour and Nell had offended her dignity.

  'Go away,' she managed in a choked voice. 'You're a troublemaker, just like your mother. I suppose I have to put up with you for Father's sake, but you needn't think I enjoy doing it!'

  It was the remark about her mother that caused Nell's control to slip. 'I'm only too aware how much you dislike me. Believe me, the feeling's mutual!' and she slammed out of the room, as angry as Elizabeth.

  Once she had simmered down she felt very ashamed. Her aunt had been unpleasant, unreasonable, absurdly possessive in her remarks about Philip, but it would have been more adult to ignore her, not to get involved in a childish and distasteful row. Nell spent a restless and unhappy night, and was only able to compose herself for sleep when she decided to make it up with Elizabeth in the morning.

  On Tuesday Nell went for an early ride before her aunt was up. She arrived back at the Manor to find Blackie having her mid-mornings in the kitchen.

  'Know where Aunt Elizabeth is?' asked Nell.

  'On the terrace. What have you done to her, dearie?' Blackie's face crinkled with worry. 'When I mentioned your name she practically spat at me.'

  Nell sighed. 'We had a row last night. Pour me a cup of coffee and I'll go and make my peace with her.'

  Elizabeth sat on the terrace, stiff-backed and set-faced. If she saw Nell's approach she gave no sign of it. The girl sat down at the opposite end of the stone bench. 'Elizabeth?' No answer. 'Elizabeth!' Nell leant towards the older woman, praying for the right words to soften that stony face. 'I'm ... sorry about last night. Couldn't we ... forget about it?'

  'I have always tried to get on with you,' said Elizabeth coldly. 'It's you who has been difficult, Nell.'

  So she was not prepared to meet her niece half way. Nell choked back an angry retort, reminding herself that she was doing this for her grandfather—yes, and for Blackie too, because family quarrels were apt to involve the whole household.

  'We both lost our tempers,' she said quietly, 'and we said things we didn't mean. Grandpa will be so upset if we're on bad terms. Please, Elizabeth, for his sake let's try to be friends.'

  A faint colour tinged Elizabeth's usually pale complexion. Staring straight ahead of her, she spoke in a cool controlled voice. 'All right, Nell. I accept your apology. I only hope it's sincere.' The light eyes turned to survey her niece. The smooth face was quite expressionless. What went on behind that mask? Nell wondered despairingly. There was no warmth in her aunt's manner, no true desire to be friends. Elizabeth saw herself as the wronged one. It had not occurred to her that she was as much at fault as the girl. 'More,' Nell thought crossly. 'But I'm the one who does the apologising!' She downed her coffee quickly, muttered something and walked away.

  At least the little scene had cleared the air, but it had left her tense and irritable. Nell sighed, then took a deep breath. It was such a beautiful day, bright, breezy, made for enjoyment, not for the pettiness of family bickering. She called the dogs, who were circling on the lower lawn, and took them off for a walk, through the woods that stretched for miles along this side of the river.

  In spite of Elizabeth's ungenerous response Nell was glad she had made that move towards reconciliation. At least they could meet at meals without awkwardness, maintain a civilised facade in front of visitors, play cards in the evening with her grandfather. Philip would drop in sometimes for a round of bridge, partnering Elizabeth while Nell played with the old man.

  'Not much good, are you, miss?' he growled one evening, when they had suffered their usual defeat at the hands of the other pair.

  Nell laughed as she threw her cards down. 'I know, Grandpa. I find it so difficult to remember the tricks.'

  Elizabeth looked contemptuous, Philip amused. 'Tell you what, little one,' he said carelessly, 'I'll give you a chance to beat me at something else. You did say you played chess?'

  They sat facing each other over a low table, and though she was determined to give him a good game, Nell found it difficult to concentrate. She was distracted by that long brown hand moving the pieces with such decision, while her own hovered uncertainly over the white men. When he wasn't making a move he sat with his chin in his hands, staring down at the board with total concentration. Nell envied him this ability to divorce himself so absolutely from his surroundings, all too conscious of the sharp glances coming their way from the card table, where Elizabeth was playing bezique with her father.

  When their game ended the Colonel announced his intention of retiring. Elizabeth usually went to bed by eleven, but this evening she sat on by the fire, an open book on her knee. Philip made a move, glanced at his watch and gave an exclamation.

  'That late? Pity to stop now, when we've reached the end game.'

  Nell gave her aunt an uncertain glance, which Philip intercepted. 'Don't feel you have to stay up, Elizabeth,' he said pleasantly. 'Nell can lock up after me.'

  'I'm in no hurry.' Elizabeth's answer was quick and a shade irritable. 'This book is quite riveting,' which considering that she hadn't turned a page for some minutes, Nell thought less than the truth.

  Philip took her remark at its face value, nodded and became once more absorbed in planning his next move. Nell fought a losing battle, but hung on longer than she had expected. As twelve struck Elizabeth sighed audibly and closed her book with a snap.

  'I should have expected you to beat Nell far more quickly,' she commented as she crossed the room to stand behind his chair.

  His smile was rueful. 'So should I. I didn't realise she was this good.'

  'Lucky fluke,' said Nell lightly, wishing her aunt wouldn't subject her to that unnerving stare.

  'I think I'll go to bed,' Elizabeth announced. 'I have a busy day tomorrow.'

  'Mm? Goodnight, Elizabeth,' Philip murmured abstractedly, giving her only half his attention. Usually a man of punctilious manners, he didn't rise from his chair as she left the room, and a flicker of annoyance crossed Elizabeth's face.'

  After her aunt bad gone Nell's defences collapsed quickly and Philip gave her check less than ten minutes later. 'Check and mate,' he amended, making his last move. As he piled the chessmen back into the beautifully carved box that belonged to her grandfather, he smiled at her across the table. The standard lamp beh
ind his chair held them in a circle of light, while die rest of the room was in semi-darkness. It created a feeling of intimacy, so that she stirred uneasily and looked away from his bright intelligent eyes.

  'Golly, I'm tired!' She rubbed her eyes and stiffened when his fingers closed round her wrist. He pulled her hands away firmly.

  'Bad for them, doctor! You ought to know that.'

  His face was very near to hers. He rested one hand on the table so that he came even closer. Nell's heart started to thump in her chest, and her breathing quickened. Philip's smile was teasing, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on her.

  'You don't look in the least tired,' he observed. 'In fact you look extremely pretty and very ... desirable.' The last word came out almost with tenderness.

  Nell blinked and tried hard for a nonchalant approach. 'Are you trying to make a pass at me, Philip?' She half rose from her chair, but the little table was too close to her knees, and she had to drop back again.

  Philip picked it up unceremoniously and dumped it to one side. 'Not trying, Nell,' he announced, 'making one,' and he drew her to her feet and into his arms. His kisses were expert and very satisfying. His hands on her body evoked sensations Nell had never experienced before. She wanted to abandon herself entirely to physical delight, but when a door banged in the quiet house sanity returned. If Elizabeth came back on some excuse and found them like this ... She tore herself out of Philip's arms, ran shaking hands over her tumbled hair, and retreated to the fireplace.

  'It's time we went to bed,' she stammered, saw by his smile that she had chosen the words unfortunately, and endeavoured to retrieve them.

  'You know quite well what I meant! It's time to say goodnight.'

  He took his dismissal easily and a small corner of Nell's mind was piqued that he should. She tried to think of a cutting remark as she accompanied him across the hall, but her thoughts were scattered and incoherent. He turned the heavy key in the lock and opened the outer door on to a wet and windy night.

  'Simmer down, young Nell,' he advised, and ruffled her hair lightly. 'You're a big girl now. Surely you can take a few kisses in your stride?' He laughed and was gone, closing the heavy door between them.