by Flora Kidd
She turned and looked towards the door and then blinked rapidly, wondering whether her imagination Was playing tricks. Just inside the door Logan was leaning against the wall, quietly, unobtrusively. He was staring at Anya and the expression on his face was not pleasant, reminding Nancy of the way in which he had watched Neil at the table in the hotel on Skye.
She felt apprehensive. She did not like the way he was watching and waiting; his manner held a threat which was all the more dangerous because it was under strict control. The threat might be directed at Anya. On the other hand it might be directed quite erroneously at Rod. In that moment Nancy wondered whether Anya’s apparently innocent invitation and encouragement of Rod had an underlying motive, and that was to make Logan jealous, as Stan had once suggested.
She must speak to Logan before he exploded into speech or action. She was considering edging her way through the crowd in his direction when she realised he had seen her and was making straight for her. As he stopped in front of her the expression on his face was no longer unpleasant. The polite mask was in place.
‘How long have you been here?’ he asked, and he spoke so quietly that she could hardly hear him through the hubbub of voices.
‘Since half-past eight.’
‘Was Anya here when you arrived?’
‘She invited us to come here with her,’ she explained, and then screwing up all her courage, risking a cool set-down, she blurted, ‘Logan, please don’t blame Rod. She’s used him ... and me. She said she didn’t want to come alone.’
He seemed puzzled.
‘I would never think of blaming you, or your intended. I know Anya’s tactics very well.’
‘But you’re angry with her.’
‘I am. Not for the reason you’re thinking,’ he murmured, glancing over her head at the animated group of people surrounding Anya. ‘I’ve decided that the time has come for a reckoning between Anya and me. She left Neil alone in the house to come here.’
Nancy was appalled.
‘Oh, I didn’t know. She didn’t say...’
He looked at her and a faintly cynical smile curled his mouth.
‘Why should she say? She’d guess that a person like you would assume that she had made arrangements for a babysitter. You would never leave a child as young as Neil alone, would you?’
‘No. I thought that Mrs. MacFadyen or your aunt would be with him.’
‘Mrs. MacFadyen usually has every evening off unless I ask her to stay and Mary informed Anya as soon as she arrived at Lanmore that she did not intend to baby-sit for her. He was asleep, but he must have woken and found he was alone, because he was shaking with sobs. I left Stan with him and came over. Anya had left a note so that I should know where she was.’
‘How could she leave him alone like that, to come and enjoy herself?’
‘I think I’ve told you before that Anya should never have been a mother. She is completely selfish and thinks only of her immediate desires.’
‘Then how can you..,’ Nancy started, then checked. This was not the time or place to ask him how could he love Anya knowing she was so selfish. Anyway, wasn’t loving a person accepting them for their faults as well as their virtues?
Someone pushed past her, knocking her against Logan. For a brief moment she felt his hand on her arm steadying her. The person, a tall man with a shock of reddish hair whom she had noticed in the group surrounding Anya, turned to apologise, saw Logan and slapped him on the back.
‘Hello there, Logan. Haven’t seen you in here for a long time.’ He eyed Nancy speculatively and added, ‘It’s glad I am to see you in circulation. Rumour has it that you’d become something of a hermit since Angus ...’
‘Rumour is wrong.’ Logan’s voice had a bite as he interrupted. He turned his back deliberately on the man and said to Nancy, ‘Let’s go outside and walk, where the air is fresher.’
Before Nancy could object and tell him that someone was bringing her another drink he had seized her by the hand and was pulling her after him through the crowd. Together they surged through the door and into the rose-tinted evening light.
The air was like velvet, soft and smooth to the skin. Above a pale greenish rose-shot sky was already scattered with faint stars. In the semi-circle of the bay the smooth water reflected the pink of the sky.
‘Poor man,’ commented Nancy. ‘He must be feeling very squashed. You’re very high-handed when you want your own way. You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go for a walk. I happened to be waiting for a very pleasant young man called Sandy to bring me another drink.’
The touch of mockery paid off. The painful grip on her hand was relaxed and Logan grinned.
‘I apologise. I’d forgotten that I mean no more to you than the moon.’
The reference to her unfortunate remark brought the blood to Nancy’s cheeks and a flash to her eyes.
‘That isn’t fair! You weren’t intended to overhear. I was trying to make it quite clear to Anya that she had no reason to fear that I was...’
Again Nancy checked in mid-sentence. How could she explain the reason for her remark? But he was looking at her inquiringly, so she continued rather breathlessly, ‘That she had no reason to be jealous because I had spent the night with you on Vagabond.’
His heavy-lidded eyes watched her, their expression enigmatic, as he considered her admission.
‘Do you know I’m beginning to wish that Anya and your intended had good reason to be jealous,’ he drawled slowly. ‘Perhaps we behaved too circumspectly after all. Think of the pleasure you and I denied ourselves in their interests ... to no effect.’
The implication which lay behind his words made Nancy’s pulses leap, but before she had time to assess his meaning he asked politely,
‘Will you walk to the end of the village and back with me, please?’
‘But I thought you’d come for Anya?’
‘I’ve decided not to pander to her liking for a scene in front of a ready-made audience. What I have to say to her is for her ears alone, so I’ll talk to her when we can be alone, after closing time. Meanwhile you and I could take a walk. Unless you would prefer to return to your fiancé or to the young man called Sandy.’
Nancy did not hesitate. The current was back, that warm flow of feeling between the two of them, and she was sure he was as much aware of it as she was.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ she agreed.
‘Thank you.’
They walked past the squat village cottages out towards the single detached houses, each one set on its separate sward of unfenced green grass. There were other people walking about enjoying the mild air of the late summer evening. On the narrow seaweed-strewn shore children were still playing and the noise of their shouts and laughter echoed back from the hills behind the village. The whole place had a leisurely holiday atmosphere. No one hurried. To-morrow would come soon enough, and when it did it would be such a day as to-day, slow to start and slow to end.
‘Has Rod enjoyed his stay here?’ asked Logan. He was being polite again. She could tell by the lack of expression in his voice.
‘Not as much as I had hoped,’ she replied frankly. ‘He’s used to staying in a good hotel in a place where there’s plenty of entertainment.’
‘Surely he came to be with you, and not for entertainment,’ he remarked critically. ‘When does he leave?’
‘To-morrow. He wants me to go back with him.’
‘Will you go?’ The question was sharp.
‘I think so. It seems to be the sensible thing to do.’
‘But I thought you intended to stay until September?’
‘I did. However, Rod has chosen a house for us to live in and I would like to see it before he buys it.’
They had reached the end of the houses. A rough road led on to a rocky promontory which jutted out into the sea-loch. At the end of the rocks a small white beacon was perched. Already its warning red light was flashing, colouring the water beneath it with a baleful red. Across the slat
e blue sea the sun slipped down behind the tall dark peak of a distant island mountain, leaving the pale sky suffused with pink light.
‘So you don’t trust him to choose a house you would like,’ probed Logan softly as they stopped to stand beside the beacon. ‘Having doubts?’
With unerring accuracy he had pinpointed the problem which was uppermost in her mind, but her stubborn Allan pride would not let her admit to him that he had. Ignoring the insinuation that she should have more faith in the person she was about to marry, she replied coolly,
‘The house is in the suburbs of Dulthorpe and I would prefer to live away from the city in a more rural area.’
He made no immediate comment seeming to be more interested in looking out to sea at the lights which flashed at regular intervals from unseen lighthouses and beacons on the islands. Nancy watched too and as always the ineffable silence created a dreamlike tranquillity in her mind. But this evening the tranquillity was shot through with yearning. Time was running out, and this was probably the last time she would talk to Logan.
‘Why don’t you admit that you and Rod are incompatible?’ The harsh critical question jolted her out of her tranquillity.
‘We ... we’re not,’ she stammered defensively.
‘Yes, you are. It stands out like this red beacon, a warning of danger. I noticed it at the Games which you enjoyed and he did not. You like Lanmore and he doesn’t. He wants to live in suburbia and you don’t. Is that the way to start a marriage? If you really loved him you wouldn’t care where he wanted to live. You’d let him choose your home. You’d live anywhere ... in two scruffy rooms, in an attic, in a basement, you’d be so happy to be with him.’
His bitter attack left her temporarily speechless. He had implied criticism of her relationship with Rod before, but always there had been a touch of amusement underlying his comments as if he had only been teasing her. This time there was no doubting that he was serious.
‘You’ll go through an outmoded ceremony with him only to discover that you’re not suited to each other after all and that you’re headed for the divorce court,’ he continued harshly.
Hurt by his comments, already troubled and on the defensive, Nancy took refuge again behind her pride.
‘What do you suggest, then?’ she retaliated. ‘A trial marriage? One of those affairs where we would live together to find out if we like it?’ She tried to speak jibingly, but her voice trembled uncontrollably.
‘I’m merely trying to help you as any other friend might. I’m trying to prevent disaster,’ he replied rather wearily. ‘But perhaps I should save my breath. Like the rest of the stubborn Allan tribe you don’t like advice.’
Nancy wondered if he knew he was hurting her and if he was taking pleasure in doing so, and out of her own hurt came an urge to strike back.
‘I’m surprised to hear that you despise marriage, since apparently you’re going to go through that outmoded ceremony yourself. Yet you and Anya are scarcely compatible, according to your own definition. She loathes Lanmore and wants to live in London while you prefer to live here,’ she sniped.
He turned sharply to look at her. In the fading light it was impossible to read the expression on his face, but she had an impression that he was surprised.
‘Who told you that Anya and I are going to be married?’ he asked. The harshness gone, he was polite once more.
Surprised in her turn by his question, Nancy did not answer. Was it possible he had not known that Anya was willing to marry him? Had Anya been playing hard to get? And now in her anger she had told him what he wanted to know most. There was a certain irony in the situation, but Nancy felt far from laughter.
‘Nancy, will you answer my question, please.’ It was the quiet authoritative manner which he used with Neil when lie boy was stubborn. There was a subtle threat in it and it never failed to defeat Neil as it defeated her now.
‘Anya herself ... to-night,’ she admitted reluctantly.
Water swirled and swished in the rock pools as the tide encroached once more upon the land. The distant flashing light grew brighter as twilight deepened into night. Nancy was aware that Logan was still looking at her closely.
‘You’re sure she said that?’ he asked.
‘Quite sure. She said that she hoped to persuade you to live in London once you and she are married because she doesn’t like Lanmore.’
He was still and silent, looking out at the flashing lights again. Nancy was silent too, miserably so, wishing that their conversation had taken a different course, wishing that her pride had not blinded her into saying the wrong thing. Yet something must have driven Logan into speaking as he had done. He had said he was advising her as a friend. But his advice had hurt more than it should and she could not think why.
‘Now I know what to do,’ Logan muttered more to himself than to her. ‘Let’s go back.’
He turned and walked away. Nancy watched him go. He had withdrawn and the warm feeling had gone. He was walking away from her to Anya and to-morrow she would probably leave Lanmore with Rod.
She hurried after him past the houses with their windows bright with yellow light in the purple dusk. The stars were brilliant now, twinkling in the clear dark sky.
By the time Nancy caught up with Logan he had almost reached the pub, which was obviously closing because there were people coming out and standing about outside to talk. As they approached Rod came towards them and in the light streaming from a cottage window she could see the worried expression on his face.
‘Where have you been?’ he asked her. He glanced sideways at Logan, who paid him no attention but walked straight past, in search of Anya.
‘For a walk with Logan,’ she replied woodenly.
‘I see,’ he said very quietly.
‘Darling! You came, after all!’ Anya’s rich voice greeted Logan and she came to stand beside him. ‘You are just in time. Ewen ... you remember Ewen, don’t you? Well, he has invited us all over to his studio for a ceilidh. Rod and Nancy are to come to ... that is, if we can find Nancy. She disappeared.’
‘Nancy is here,’ said Logan. ‘It’s very hospitable of you, Ewen, but not this evening. I’m wanting to talk to Anya ... alone.’
He put a subtle emphasis on the word ‘alone’ and the burly, bearded Ewen laughed appreciatively.
‘Ach, Anya, in the face of an invitation put like that I am withdrawing mine. I shall be seeing you another evening. You also, Logan. It is a long time since we had the pleasure of your company.’ He continued in Gaelic which Logan answered briefly and politely. There was a chorus of good-nights. People faded away leaving Anya, Logan, Nancy and Rod standing in the shadowed roadway.
‘I’m so glad you came, darling,’ purred Anya. ‘I have wanted so much to be alone with you. Always there have been people this holiday.’
He did not answer her, but turning to Rod and Nancy said politely,
‘You will excuse us, please. I will drive Anya home. Goodnight.’
They made the short journey to the ferry in silence. In front, the rear lights on Logan’s car glowed a brighter red as he braked going down the slip to the gangway. They followed and stopped behind the sports car and the ferry began to creak its way across the narrow strait of water. On the other side the ferry had hardly touched land when the car in front moved forward, streaked up the slipway and disappeared into the night as if anxious to reach its destination.
As they trundled ashore and took the slipway cautiously Nancy wondered vaguely whereabouts in the Lodge Logan would have his ‘reckoning’ with Anya. Would they talk in the high-ceilinged gracious lounge as they sipped drinks from cut-glass tumblers? Or would they prefer the comfortable intimacy of Logan’s office? And what would Logan say to Anya? It wasn’t difficult to guess. After berating her about leaving Neil alone in the house he would ask her to marry him and Anya would agree.
‘Well, it would seem that Anya got what she wanted tonight,’ said Rod shrewdly. ‘An evening out with her friends here, and a
ride home with the laird. I wonder if there’s anything serious between those two?’
‘Yes. They’re going to be married,’ stated Nancy flatly.
‘Oh.’ He sounded almost dumbfounded and said no more on the subject. They had almost reached the cottage when he spoke abruptly.
‘I’ve been thinking, Nancy, that there’s no need for you to come back, with me to-morrow if you don’t want to. Stay another two weeks, and by then I think you’ll have had enough of this romantic Highland atmosphere and will be ready to return to city life.’
He sounded like the familiar kindly Rod she had always known and she felt a strong twinge of conscience to think that she had ever doubted him.
‘But what about the house?’ she asked.
‘I’ll try and persuade Lawrence to extend the option. If he won’t then I’ll let it go. There’ll be other houses. And I’m beginning to think that perhaps it would be a good idea if we rented a fiat while we look round for a house. Well? What do you think?’
His change of attitude was puzzling. He sounded almost eager to fit in with her earlier suggestions just when she had decided she would give in and go back with him. And Logan had said she and Rod were incompatible!
‘If you don’t mind me staying a little longer I’ll stay. It would have been rather a rush having to tell Don and Linda the change in plan, and then having to pack to-night,’ she said.
‘That’s what I thought,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘There are one or two things I want to clear up before you return to Dulthorpe so that when you do come we can concentrate on preparations for the wedding. After all, it’s a big step we’re going to take, Nancy.’
‘I expect you’re right,’ she murmured.
‘That’s settled, then.’ He sounded very cheerful, better than he had since he had arrived on Lanmore, as if he was glad to be going without her.