by Flora Kidd
‘No, I don’t. It sounds rather morbid and dismal.’
He laughed.
‘I suppose it is. And yet sometimes I’ve found in it an echo of my own thoughts when “I am weary of days and hours ... and everything but sleep.” ’
Nancy turned to look at him in surprise. Seemingly relaxed now, he leaned against the sun-warmed wall and watched Neil swinging. Nearer to him than she had ever been before, she was able to study him closely. ‘Dour’ he had described himself in a moment of self-mockery, and certainly the combination of dark hair and eyebrows, a sallow complexion and a rather beaky nose did give an impression of harshness. But she noticed that his mouth was well shaped and had sensitive lines graven at its corners, hinting at severe control.
He turned his head suddenly and looked at her. Annoyed at being caught staring, Nancy flushed for the second time that day and her annoyance increased as she noted a knowledgeable gleam in his eyes. Immediately she looked away down the garden at Neil.
‘You see, he’s quite happy now. All he needs is time and a place to play in his own way. Do you know he’s afraid of you and calls you “wickedunclelogan”?’
‘That’s because he has been taught to be afraid of me, not because I have ever frightened him,’ he replied concisely, and showed no inclination to pursue the subject. Instead he placed a hand on either side of her head and tilted her face so that the right side was towards the sunlight. ‘The sting is still there,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t move while I take it out.’
Taken completely unawares by his action, confused by the feel of his hands against her face, Nancy kept still while her heart pounded and her skin felt hot. Furious with herself for reacting so violently to everything he did or said, she kept her eyes averted while he removed the bee-sting.
‘A first sting is always the worst, and being tender skinned you’ll feel it more. It’s a good thing you had no more or you’d have had some bad swellings.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied stiltedly, hoping he had not noticed her confusion, glad that he had moved away. ‘Neil says that he’s been ill and that you’ve brought him here to convalesce.’
‘That’s right. I was down in London on business and I called in to see him and Anya, my sister-in-law. She’s an actress and her household arrangements, to put it mildly, are somewhat chaotic. Neil had had a bad bout of measles in the middle of which the latest nanny had left in a tantrum. To cut the story short, he developed bronchial pneumonia and had to be rushed to hospital. When I arrived he had just been released, so I brought him here thinking the country air and the regular routine of the Lodge would help him to recuperate. For once Anya didn’t try to stop me. She was in such a muddle she was glad to see him go.’ The faint smile which curved his mouth was a blend of triumph and cynicism and Nancy, recalling Neil’s reference to his nanny’s description of Logan as ‘wicked’ because he had tried to take Neil away from his mother, felt the hairs tingle on the back of her neck.
‘Have you tried to bring him here before?’ she asked.
He seemed rather surprised by her question and for a moment she expected one of his set-downs. But instead he answered simply and directly,
‘Yes, I have. You see my brother made me Neil’s legal guardian and wanted him to grow up at Lanmore.’
‘But surely his mother is his guardian.’
‘No, not in this case. Neil is heir to Angus’s estate, which is quite considerable, and my brother for once in his life showed some foresight in realising that his wife was and is incapable of administering it on behalf of Neil until he reaches twenty-one.’
While he spoke he continued to lean against the wall his arms folded on his chest as he watched the swinging child with half-closed eyes. Again alarm tingled through Nancy’s veins. The expression on his face was so grim that she fancied he was thinking of a way in which he could rid the world of Neil Maclaine.
‘What happens to the estate if anything should happen to Neil?’ she asked, speaking her thoughts aloud.
He glanced at her and she had the usual feeling that she had asked too much.
‘That’s none of your business, Nancy Allan,’ he replied coolly. ‘I know what you’re thinking. It didn’t take long for you to catch on to the wicked uncle bit, did it? Well, in spite of what Neil might have told you and in spite of what you’re imagining I have no intention of removing Neil from this life. My brother gave me the responsibility of taking care of his child and I take that particular responsibility seriously in so far as I’ve been allowed. Neil has been neglected because his mother has put her career before him. You can see for yourself that he needs care and attention.’
‘And love,’ put in the irrepressible Nancy. ‘Can you provide that when you’ve admitted that you dislike being involved? I doubt it. Fancy taking a small boy fishing and then forgetting all about him! He’d be better with his mother. She must surely have some natural feeling for him.’
She seemed to have hit a sore spot, for he interrupted her sharply.
‘Anya has only ever loved herself. She should never have been a mother, but it was the only way she could...’ He stopped abruptly as if he realised he was telling her too much. The polite mask descended. He stood up. ‘It’s time Neil and I were leaving,’ he said quietly.
‘Oh, you can’t ... you don’t intend to make him walk all the way back. He’ll never make it. He’ll be exhausted,’ exclaimed Nancy, getting to her feet.
He turned on her so abruptly that she was forced to take a step backwards.
‘You seem determined to point out the error of my ways to me this afternoon...’ he began.
‘I seem to remember that you had no hesitation in pointing out how I mismanage Linda, last time you were here,’ she retaliated.
‘I have no liking for interfering inquisitive females,’ he threatened.
‘And I can’t bear arrogant managing males.’
His sudden smile transformed his face like a shaft of sunlight slanting across dark moors relieves their brooding melancholy.
‘You’re never at a loss for an answer, are you?’ he observed. ‘All right, how do you suggest that Neil gets back to the lodge without walking?’
‘Surely there’s someone at the lodge who would drive over to collect you. I was going to ring up if you hadn’t arrived. I’d drive you over, but I’m afraid our car isn’t working again. You were right about that. It wasn’t the bargain we thought it was.’
‘I’m always right about cars,’ he replied with maddening superiority. ‘But it’s magnanimous of you to admit it. Now tell me where your phone is and I’ll call Harris.’
At that moment Linda arrived, dishevelled and mud-caked as usual after her walk from the bus. When she saw Logan she almost threw herself at him, demanding why hadn’t he been to see them, why wasn’t he wearing his kilt, who was the little boy and were they both going to stay for tea.
Logan seemed pleased by her energetic and enthusiastic welcome and pointed out that he and his nephew had not been invited to stay to tea and were about to leave.
‘Oh, you can’t go yet,’ complained Linda, ‘I’ve lots to tell you. I thought he must be some sort of relation because he looks a bit like you. And you must stay and see Don. They can stay to tea, can’t they, Nancy?’
She turned on her sister aggressively, almost accusingly, as if she expected Nancy to refuse. Neil, who had been attracted by the appearance of Linda and had come across the garden to stand beside her, said solemnly,
‘Another marigold lady. I’d like to stay to tea, please.’ ‘There, that settles it!’ exclaimed Linda triumphantly, glaring at Nancy and Logan in turn. ‘Neither of you dare refuse to do as he asks.’ After asking Neil his name and promising she would take him to see some kittens when she had changed out of her school clothing she ran into the house.
Nancy glanced ruefully at Logan, wondering whether he was annoyed by Linda’s arrangements, and murmured diffidently,
‘Do you want to stay to tea?’
; He gave her one of his strangely penetrating stares before replying,
‘Like Neil, I’d like to stay, please.’
The rest of the afternoon possessed a dreamlike quality. Everything went smoothly and happily. When Linda reappeared dressed in jeans and shirt and Wellington boots she took Logan as well as Neil with her. Nancy went back into the kitchen to prepare the meal and as she worked she thought back over the curious conversation she had had with Logan in the garden. He was such an enigma. He seemed to want to keep people at bay and yet he was obviously lonely and had accepted the invitation to stay to tea without hesitation. Perhaps if she could read the poem to which he had referred she would understand him better.
I am weary of days and hours ... and everything but sleep, he had quoted, and it was true he did look as if he and sleep were strangers. But why should he feel like that?
What caused his unhappiness? Was it possible Mary Maclaine had been right when she had said that she thought he brooded about the accident in which his brother had been killed?
If that was the case, thought Nancy compassionately, she was glad that Linda had suggested that he and Neil stayed for tea. The only way to deal with a person like Logan was to ignore his reticence, which was after all only a cover for unhappiness, to turn a deaf ear to his supercilious snubs and to treat him as if he was normal and happy. Look at the way he had responded to Linda’s infectious greeting, to her own lively retorts. He laughed at them, and when he laughed he was such a different person.
There was a lot of laughter at tea-time when Don came home and they sat down to tea and described their various experiences with the animals and the neighbours. Logan listened attentively and although he said little Nancy had the feeling that he was relaxed and completely at ease with them.
After tea he went with Don and Linda on their usual fishing expedition in the old wooden dinghy which had belonged to Grandfather Allan. Between the three of them they persuaded Neil to go too and they rowed out to the middle of the calm loch.
When she had finished washing up Nancy walked down to the beach to watch them return. Golden evening light lingered on the still water and on the steep curves of the mountains. Blue shadows collected in the hill recesses and slanted across the fields. Only the lap of water against stone, the occasional cry of a peewit and the voices from the dinghy carrying clearly across the water broke the trance of silence, the essential silence of the Highlands.
The four fishermen came ashore triumphant because they had caught three small haddock which they proposed to have for breakfast. Logan said it was time he and Neil returned to the lodge. Neil immediately clutched Nancy’s hand and muttered that he didn’t want to go.
‘But it’s your bedtime, darling,’ said Nancy, kneeling to comfort him as she had that afternoon. ‘Your uncle will phone for a car to take you both back, and perhaps he’ll let you come to see us again.’
‘I want to stay here for the night, with Lin and Don and you.’
‘He could do that. He could sleep in the spare bed in my room,’ suggested Don brightly.
‘That’s a good idea,’ cried Linda. ‘I’ll be at home tomorrow because it’s Saturday. Perhaps he could stay until Sunday. It would be like going away for the week-end.’
‘Would you let him stay with us?’ Nancy asked, looking at Logan. The polite mask was in place hiding any emotion he might be feeling.
‘If it’s what he would like, and you think you can manage him, he can stay with you,’ he replied smoothly, and there was no way of telling how he felt about the proposition.
‘You ... you could come and see if he’s all right tomorrow,’ offered Nancy, suddenly thinking that he might be hurt by his nephew’s obvious preference for their company.
‘I could,’ he agreed, ‘but I won’t. What will he wear for pyjamas?’
‘Oh, we’ll soon fix something up. That’s all part of the fun of staying,’ said Linda, with juvenile enthusiasm. ‘Come on, Neil, say goodnight to your uncle and then we’ll go and find something for you to wear. I know, I’ll bath you. I’ve some marvellous stuff for making bubbles and when you’re in bed I’ll read a story to you.’
‘Will you really? Nanny used to read stories ... I mean one of my nannies did. Mummy doesn’t have time, and wickedunclelogan doesn’t know any. What will the story be about?’
‘About Noggin the King and the Omruds.’
‘I’ve never heard of them before. Who are they?’
‘I suspect they’re some relatives of Linda,’ suggested Logan. ‘Goodnight, Neil.’
Neil said goodnight and walked away hand in hand with Linda and Don. He did not look back at Logan and Nancy had an urge to explain that the little boy had not intended to hurt anyone’s feelings.
‘You mustn’t mind about him wanting to stay with us,’ she said consolingly. ‘Children don’t always realise that adults have feelings that they can hurt.’
He swung round slowly to look at her and she had the impression that he was rather puzzled by her observation.
‘Now what on earth makes you think that he has hurt my feelings?’ he asked. ‘On the contrary, I’m very glad he’s met someone he can trust. It might stop him from pining for London ... the one place where he’s not really wanted. He’s still wary of me because, as I’ve pointed out, he has been taught not to trust me.’
Nancy tried not to feel as if she had been brushed off like a rather irritating pest, but it was difficult and she could think of no answer to his very reasonable explanation.
‘And one thing you must learn,’ he continued, ‘is not to credit others with your own feelings. You might have been hurt if Neil had been your nephew and had so patently preferred a stranger’s company. But please don’t attribute those feelings to me ... and don’t offer pity where it’s not wanted.’ His voice softened slightly, amusement robbing it of its habitual coolness. ‘As a matter of fact I’m rather relieved to get rid of him for a couple of days, as I can go down to Oban to live it up with some yachting friends of mine who have invited me for the day. Now I shan’t have to think up ways of entertaining Neil ... something which I’ve found increasingly difficult to do during the past week so that I’ve often found myself regretting having brought him here.’
‘Oh, what a terrible thing to say!’ blurted Nancy, her anger at this confession making her blind and deaf to the amusement on his face and in his voice as she failed to realise he was making fun. ‘Oh, you selfish beast! I thought you said that Neil is the one responsibility you take seriously.’
‘It is,’ he assured her. ‘So seriously that when I come across the ideal baby-sitter by accident, practically on my front doorstep, can you blame me for using her? I’m glad Neil got lost to-day and that the bees swarmed. You’re welcome to cosset my un-angelic nephew for two nights and a day. I’ll come for him on Sunday. Thank you for the meal. Goodnight.’
The sense of outrage which she experienced on learning that Logan had used her interest in Neil for his own selfish ends stayed with Nancy all next day. How easily she had been deceived into thinking he was unhappy and lonely! How foolish she had been in attributing to him feelings he did not possess. Looking back over the whole episode from the time he had found her and Neil together, she thought she could see how deftly he had manipulated her rousing her compassion both for himself and for Neil with well-placed words. She remembered suddenly that Mary Maclaine had come to see her originally because she was interested in meeting ‘the one woman who could refuse Logan’. Now she knew what it was like to be placed in a position in which it would be difficult to refuse Logan. For if he had asked her after tea on Friday to mind Neil for him while he went away she knew that she would have agreed. He hadn’t had to ask because Neil had asked for himself.
But next time he asked she would be on guard. No matter what he suggested she would say no.
Linda was so good with Neil that by the time Saturday night came Nancy was ready to admit that having the boy to stay with them had solved one of her proble
ms temporarily, which was how to keep Linda entertained during a wet week-end when she couldn’t spend the whole time out of doors and there was no T.V. set and no cinema round the corner.
When he got bored or restless with the particular game they were playing she was never at a loss for something else to do. She rigged up a makeshift easel so that he could splash paint on paper and when he tired of that she made puppets for him out of scraps of material.
Sunday was not as wet as Saturday had been, but the wind was blustery, sending squalls of rain across the grey sea which were immediately followed by patches of bright blue sky and brilliant sunshine.
Logan arrived after lunch, driving up to the gate in the blue estate car which Mary Maclaine had used. There were dark lines under his eyes which seemed even sleepier than usual. He was extremely polite, asking without any spark of interest if Neil had slept well and if he had had behaved himself. At once Nancy found herself wondering about his politeness. Not only was it a facade behind which he could hide his emotions, but possibly it was a cover for boredom. Still annoyed by his behaviour of Friday, she was ready to think badly of him. If he was bored by Neil why had he been so cruel as to take the little boy away from his mother? If he was bored by the Allans why did he bother to make conversation with them?
She watched him as he turned away from her and spoke to Linda and her resentment reached boiling point as she noticed how differently he treated her sister. He obviously enjoyed the hero-worship she ladled out to him and went out of his way to praise the efforts Linda had made to entertain Neil. Nancy had often heard how grown men were susceptible to the attention of teenage girls, but to see it happening and to know that it was her own sister who was involved disturbed her so much that when Logan turned back to her and invited them all to go back with him to Lanmore Lodge to have tea with him she declared uncompromisingly,