Fortune's Lead

by Barbara Perkins

  I brooded miserably about people who made plots, and destroyed things, and bred mistrust: I wondered with sudden self-consciousness if Henry knew I’d been falling in love with Kevin, all that time, while I was fighting with him. Unhappiness engulfing me, I started to want to cry again, and gulped. It was just as well Michael didn’t want me to talk.

  Some little time later, I wondered why we hadn’t arrived at Beemondham yet—or at least gone through a village which was on the way. Michael must be taking a different route: the lanes were twistier even than usual. I glanced at him, glanced away again, and knew that I didn’t really care very much where I was. Some minutes later, when I was sinking back into my brooding, I realized we were slowing down. There was nothing ahead but a solitary pub, large and solidly alone a little back from the road, but we were definitely drawing up at it. As I looked questioningly at Michael he swung the car left, passed several other cars drawn up in the park beside the pub, and drove into a yard. Then he switched everything off, so that the sudden pitch-dark made me blink, and reached across me to unlatch the passenger door.

  ‘Where—where are we?’ I asked uncertainly.

  ‘I thought we’d stop for a drink. Come on.’

  ‘But—’

  He had already got out his side: anyway, it would be uncivil, I supposed, to complain, considering he was already so unwillingly giving me a lift. I left my suitcase where it was and followed him as he led the way under a signboard which said ‘The Dog and Duck,’ and in through the door of a public bar. By the time we were half way across the room he had me by the arm, with apparent amiability, guiding me along to a door in the further wall. I saw him make a sign to the landlord behind the bar and receive a nod in return: the landlord, I thought, looked curiously at me, so that I quickly averted my eyes. Then we were through into what looked like a private sitting-room, with a large round table in the middle of it, a couple of stuffed armchairs, and a staircase disappearing upwards from one corner. It was quite a pleasant room, with blackened beams and a fire lit to warm it: a wide window, closed but with the curtains undrawn, had diamonded panes which winked in the light. I turned round to try to make a civil comment to Michael, and saw him by the door through which we had come.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I shan’t be long.’

  He went back into the bar, and I sat down, dispiritedly, and wondered how far we were from Beemondham. And whether there would be a train to be had when I got there. And whether anyone had missed me yet. It must be over half an hour since I left Thurlanger, but with all those people in the house I doubted if my absence was conspicuous. After a moment I got up and walked to the door into the bar and opened it, looking for Michael. The first person who met my eyes was Rosalind, sitting amongst a group of people in the far corner—and since she was looking directly my way and our eyes met, I closed the door again quickly. She had probably been there when we came in, though I hadn’t seen her: I wished I hadn’t seen her now, because it reminded me all over again of Kevin. Not that I needed reminding...

  Michael came back with two glasses in his hand. I found he had brought me brandy: perhaps I looked as if I needed it. Sitting in one of the armchairs beside the fire, I drank mine quickly, hoping Michael would soon be willing to go on; though a glance at him showed he was sipping his drink very slowly, looking thoughtful and rather expressionless. He didn’t seem inclined to make conversation, and since the last thing I felt like doing was talking, I let the silence stretch out and concentrated on fighting my own misery. It was quiet in the room—either the bar wasn’t doing a very good trade for Saturday night, or the walls and door were very thick. Finally, seeing that Michael had at last emptied his glass, I got up, meaningfully.

  ‘Do you think we could go on now? It’s getting quite late, and—and I’ve still got to find a train, and they probably don’t run very late at night.’ Seeing that he hadn’t moved, I added, ‘If you want to stay here, perhaps I could—could ring up for a taxi from the bar. There was a phone in there, wasn’t there?’

  ‘Yes, but you won’t need a taxi.’

  ‘Look,’ I said, struggling for patience, ‘it was very kind of you to give me a lift, but I really must get—’

  ‘We’re both staying here,’ Michael said coolly without moving.

  ‘We’re what?’

  ‘We’re staying here for the night.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. We are both staying here for the night.’

  ‘Michael,’ I said patiently, and stopped. He was giving me a quite unmistakable look. I gulped, wondered what on earth had come over him, and marched to the door. It seemed to have stuck. I twisted the handle, twisted it again harder, and heard him speak behind me.

  ‘It’s locked. I locked it when I came back in. We don’t want to be disturbed—do we?’

  I gave the door-handle another tug, heard him laugh, and looked angrily over my shoulder. ‘I’m sure it’s a very funny joke,’ I said icily, ‘but I’ve had enough of it, from now! So if you have locked this door, please come and unlock it, at once! And d-don’t be so ridiculous!’

  ‘Oh, I’m quite serious. And it would be no use trying to break it down—that wood’s very solid, you know.’ As I turned round angrily to face him, he stretched out his legs lazily in front of him and gave me an amused smile. ‘You can give up the act—outraged virtue is only any use in the right place! And if you will take someone’s place, and ruin all my plans just because yours are ruined, you must expect what you get!’

  ‘I had nothing to do with Essie’s not coming to meet you tonight!’ I protested. ‘Though I don’t think she should have arranged to, as a matter of fact—’

  ‘And no doubt you told her so. Of all the malicious, dog-in-the-manger tricks! I might have known you’d get up to something like that, though it doesn’t seem to have done you any good!’

  ‘Michael,’ I said firmly, struggling for reason, ‘I don’t know what—what ideas you’ve got in your head, or whether you’re drunk, or what, but will you please stop being silly and open this door? Anyway, when—when it’s closing time we’ll have to go, and the landlord will see that we do, so there’s no point in playing these idiotic tricks!’

  ‘We won’t. There’s a bedroom up there,’ Michael said calmly, pointing towards the staircase, ‘and we’re booked in for bed and breakfast. This is where I was going to bring Essie, of course!’

  ‘You were what?’

  ‘Having managed to persuade her to elope with me,’ Michael said as coolly as if he was discussing the weather, ‘I was going to bring her here. Not that she knew that. And if it had been her, of course, I should have had to smuggle her in more cautiously, and not allow her to be seen until morning. But, dear Charlotte—with you, of course, it doesn’t matter.’ He looked at my horrified face, smiled nastily, and added, ‘There won’t be alarmed parents rushing to make you a ward of court, will there, after all? That, of course, was the reason why I decided after some thought that I wouldn’t take Essie all that far away. At the risk of a little local scandal, Henry Thurlanger would either have to let me marry the girl—or buy me off. Either would do, though the first had a good chance of working—without your interference!’

  ‘You m-must be mad!’ I stammered, staring at him. ‘It’s—it’s the most immoral thing I’ve ever heard of! And—and anyway, you can’t know Essie as well as you think you do, if you think you’d ever have managed to persuade her to elope with you!’

  ‘I already had. This morning. While you,’ he said blandly, ‘were very kindly covering for us by pretending Essie was with you having her hair done. But after being so uncommonly useful to me up till then, when you found you weren’t going to have any success yourself you blew the gaff, didn’t you! And stop looking at me like that—you knew perfectly well what I was up to, and why I was down here, and you as much as admitted it a couple of weeks ago when you came to the cottage!’

  ‘I d-didn’t—’ I swallowed, stared at Michael, an
d wondered how I could have been so mistaken in anyone.

  ‘You—I thought you—you said you came to Suffolk to write a book and recover from a broken ankle! You can’t have been—’

  ‘My ankle was never actually broken. I got a friend to plaster it up to give me a reason for not riding—if I’d been good at that, I could have broken into the country set more easily! As it was—well, I have to admit, I was wondering if I’d ever manage an entree until the connection with you surprisingly paid dividends. But it didn’t suit you or me to be too closely paired, did it? Or were you hoping to use me to make the old man jealous?’

  There was an unhappy familiarity in his assessment of my character, but I wasn’t going to have Michael Chace, of all people, producing insults. ‘You can keep your tongue to yourself, you horrible young man!’ I blazed at him. ‘I was working for Henry Thurlanger—and—and if I’d known the type you are, I wouldn’t have brought Essie near you in a month of Sundays! But she’s got sense, thank goodness—even if she was foolish to lead you on, though it was probably quite innocent on her side! The last thing she said before I came away was that I could tell you she never actually seriously thought of coming with you, and I c-can only be relieved to hear it, because the thought of—of—’

  ‘There’s no need to put on all that outraged virtue, I told you,’ Michael said, looking unmoved by my furious glare. ‘I wasn’t sure about you at first, admittedly, but after you started playing into my hands because it suited you, I knew you were up to the same game as I was. I don’t know what went wrong, because Henry Thurlanger’s reputed to be soft-hearted with young women, but I suppose you held out for marriage and he wasn’t having any. Perhaps,’ he added coolly, ‘you and I should team up, to make sure we don’t get under one another’s feet another time. Let’s see how we get on, shall we?’

  ‘If—if you don’t let me out of here I’ll scream!’

  ‘Scream away. The walls are thick. If you should be heard, before closing time, you’ll be landing yourself in a thoroughly embarrassing situation, because I shall say you agreed to spend the night here with me and then panicked! After closing time ... well, I should think the landlord goes conveniently deaf, shouldn’t you?—Considering he’s willing to let these rooms on the odd-night basis!’

  I opened my mouth to scream, stared at him, and shut it again. The thought of the people outside—including, I remembered, Rosalind—being given Michael’s version of the story made me feel sick. I gulped, clutched at my dignity, and said, ‘Y-you’re being utterly ridiculous, and you know it. I h-have not the least intention of spending the night here with you! And I can’t imagine how I was so taken in as to think you were—were pleasant, and suitable, and—and all that! Now will you please open this door, at once?’

  He simply looked at me without moving. I thought of banging on the solid wooden panels—and remembered again what story he had promised to give if I tried to summon help. I thought, too, with horror, that it might have been Essie here instead of me, and was undyingly thankful it wasn’t. How could Michael have planned something like that! Looking at him, knowing how hard he was behind the pleasant exterior, I shivered, wondering whether there were any lengths to which he wouldn’t go. After a second, I said, ‘If you’re keeping me here for revenge, it’s absolutely pointless!’

  ‘Really? I thought it might be rather amusing. I haven’t got anything else to do just now.’

  ‘I shall stand here in absolute silence until you come, here and open this door!’

  ‘Do,’ he said calmly, studying me in a way I didn’t like at all. ‘But it’s a pity, isn’t it?—that you have to keep on with the act, I mean. But I’m not taken in, so you might as well be ... friendly, Charlotte.’

  ‘I’m n-not putting on an act! And you—’

  ‘It’s a nuisance. I could have got the Tetley girl with no trouble at all, but they haven’t two beans to rub together: it’s always the way. That Laidlaw child’s only sixteen and as plain as a pikestaff—besides, her father’s got a mean look about him. I rather think he had a hand in putting old Thurlanger off me. Essie seemed inclined to rebel, though, which was a help. It really seemed—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear your reminiscences!’ I snapped.

  ‘Seemed as if it was going to be easy,’ he finished as if I hadn’t spoken, and gave me a hard look. ‘But if you aren’t pleased with the situation, believe me, it doesn’t bother me, because I’ve got a score to settle with you, haven’t I?’

  ‘No, you h-haven’t! Though if I’d known,’ I told him fiercely, ‘you certainly would have had a score to settle, because I would have gone straight to Henry!’

  ‘Would you just?’ he asked, and got slowly to his feet. I wondered nervously what he was planning, but he turned away from me and picked up a log from the basket beside the fire, throwing it onto the flames.

  ‘Come and sit down,’ he suggested, ‘and we’ll—get to know each other better, before we go upstairs!’

  ‘I’m not—’An idea occurred to me, quickly, bred of desperation. ‘I—I left my suitcase in the car, and I’ll need it if we’re going to stay here. Could—could you get it?’

  It didn’t work. He gave me an amused look, and simply stood there. I wondered, wildly, how long we had been in this room since he locked the door—half an hour? Longer? I tried to assure myself that he would soon get tired of the joke and give up: I tried to feel that I was quite strong enough to cope with him if he started anything. Perhaps I could reach the basket of logs and pick one up to hit him with...

  ‘Well, aren’t you coming?’

  ‘No,’ I said, very coldly, ‘I’m not! I told you, I’m g—going to stand by this door until you come and open it! And you needn’t think—’

  ‘Then I’ll come to you,’ he said deliberately, and did. I dodged out of the way, moving as fast as I could and dragging my arm away from him as he grabbed for it.

  ‘Michael, s-stop it! Don’t—don’t be stupid! You can’t possibly think that I’d—’

  ‘I don’t need to think anything!’

  ‘I’ll—I’ll scream, I swear I will—’

  ‘I’m not going to give you the chance,’ he retorted, and grabbed me before I could reach the log-basket. He was, I discovered at once, much stronger than I was. And very determined. I opened my mouth to scream for help, twisting away from him, beginning to be really frightened—but he brought his face down against mine, and however hard I struggled I couldn’t get away from him. I remembered that no one would come: no one knew I was here with this maniac who seemed quite determined to take what he called his revenge on me. I was kicking, and trying to twist free, when there was a crash from behind us and a sudden gust of cold air came sweeping through the room. A second later, in the most unexpected fashion, Michael was plucked from me so abruptly that I almost fell—and my gasping, sobbing breaths were combined with a heavy thump as a fist connected with Michael’s jaw...

  ‘Get up,’ Kevin said dangerously, standing over Michael as he lay on the floor.

  ‘K-Kevin!’

  Kevin took absolutely no notice of me. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth and staggered back to lean against the wall, fighting to get my breath back, taking in the scene in front of me with dazed eyes. Michael was looking even more dazed than I was ... and Kevin was standing there looking very large, very ominous—and very incongruously elegant in evening dress, though his bow tie was a little crooked and his hair ruffled. Behind him, the open window swung wide with its latch hanging askew from the splintered wood.

  ‘Get up,’ Kevin said again—and Michael stirred and began to struggle to his feet.

  ‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing—’ Michael went backwards as Kevin’s fist moved ominously, and his voice took on a high, aggrieved note. ‘You’ve no right to burst in on a private—’

  ‘If you have anything to discuss in private with my girl, you’ll have to discuss it with me first,’ Kevin retorted murderously—and Michae
l looked past him to give me a spiteful look.

  ‘If she thought the same, she’d hardly have agreed to come and spend the—’

  His words were cut off as Kevin hit him again. As Michael reached the floor, Kevin moved in—and little as I wanted to rescue Michael from anything, I felt forced to intervene. I pushed myself away from the wall, and stammered breathlessly,

  ‘Kevin, you’ll k-kill him—’

  ‘Unfortunately not,’ was the curt reply I got, and Kevin lifted my former tormentor up as if he had been a sack of potatoes. Before I knew what he was going to do, he half carried, half dragged Michael over to the window, steadied him against the sill—and threw him out. He stood gazing after him for a second with such a threatening air that I wondered if he was going out after him, but he pulled the windows to, drew the curtains roughly across them, and turned back to me.

  ‘Now, Charlotte!’

  I found my voice with some difficulty. ‘I d-didn’t agree to come here with him! He was supposed to be giving me a lift! I d-didn’t know—’

  ‘I’m sure you didn’t. What I want to know is what possessed you to run away from Thurlanger! I’ve got one or two guesses, but I’m waiting to hear the answers in your own words!’

  ‘H-how did you get here?’ I asked weakly.

  ‘Through the window. And I saw exactly what was going on, so don’t try to persuade me you were any kind of willing victim! Now—’

  But how did you get here?’

  ‘I rode. You’ll really have to start being grateful to Thunder one of these days. The things he puts up with for your benefit are quite considerable—this time, a ride through the dark at a speed calculated to risk his legs, though luckily he knew the way well enough!’

  ‘I—I am grateful.’ He couldn’t know how grateful: as I remembered what had been happening when he arrived my knees almost buckled. Or perhaps they were buckling because Kevin was standing there looking at me. I felt a lump come into my throat, swallowed, and said in a wobbly voice, ‘Michael persuaded Essie to elope with him, only she didn’t, thank goodness, and—oh, Kevin, it w-would have been awful, because he was going to bring her here, and—she didn’t know he was going to bring her here, I’m sure she didn’t!’