And then she felt Baird’s hand rest firmly upon her own, the pressure of his strong fingers giving not only comfort but also sending a tingling sensation into the nerves of her arm. She gripped his fingers, thankful for the support they offered, yet feeling annoyed with herself for displaying such fear.
He smiled at her reassuringly. ‘This little shake-up is nothing to worry about. It’s only a spot of turbulence.’ His hand remained on hers as he added, ‘Do you want to talk, or would you prefer to sleep? I suspect Amy’s had a knock-out pill.’
She gave a wan smile. ‘Sleep has been bumped out of me at the moment—so I’d like to talk, if that’s OK with you.’
He looked at her critically. ‘The colour is coming back into your face. You’d turned completely ashen. You can stop being apprehensive. This airline will get you home in one piece.’
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘To be honest I’ve been feeling apprehensive about reaching your home and—and meeting your parents. Do you think they’ll resent me?’
He frowned. ‘Resent you? What on earth are you talking about?’
‘I mean because I’m a Campbell.’
He laughed, then said decisively, ‘Of course not. They rid themselves of all that prejudice years ago. They couldn’t care less about those old clan feuds—and in any case they now look upon themselves as New Zealanders. You must remember they’ve been out there for thirty-six years.’
She looked at him doubtfully. ‘Then why do I still feel apprehensive about going to stay in your house? It’s almost as though I can sense an unpleasantness waiting to greet me there.’
‘That’s entirely your imagination,’ he retorted sharply.
‘Tell me about the house. It might help me to get rid of this feeling. Is it new or old? We have very little in the way of ghosts in New Zealand—unless you’re bringing a few home with you,’ she said pointedly.
He twisted in his seat to regard her seriously and, lifting her hand from the arm-rest, he held it in a firm grip. ‘I promise you, all that resentment has gone. It’s locked between hard covers in the library at Glengyle, and there it can stay until—’
Cathie’s low voice finished the sentence for him. ‘Until the time comes when something must be done about that house.’
He said, ‘It will be sold. The books will go to the Crieff library where they belong. They’ll never come to New Zealand.’
‘Well, you do surprise me. I heard you tell Amy to take care of them for you. What’s changed your mind about—hugging them to your bosom?’
He did not answer immediately. Instead his brown eyes took in the details of her wavy red shoulder-length hair before holding the gaze of her gold-flecked hazel eyes. They then moved to the curve of her sweet and generous mouth, yet still he remained silent.
His scrutiny caused her to flush. ‘Well?’ she persisted.
‘My home in Palmerston North has no place for them, and in any case they belong in Scotland,’ he admitted at last.
‘So the house isn’t equipped with a library,’ she said, then repeated her former request. ‘Tell me more about it.’
He gave a slight shrug, then said, ‘Upstairs there are three bedrooms and a bathroom, plus an en suite attached to the master bedroom. There’s a fourth bedroom downstairs with a shower and toilet which is the one I use.’
‘So you actually live downstairs and forget about upstairs—?’
‘That’s about the situation. Downstairs the lounge and dining room can be turned into one large room by pushing back concertina doors, but the living room is cosy and near the kitchen. A door from the laundry gives access to the double garage.’
‘It sounds very large for only one person.’
‘It’s really a family home. When my father retired to live at Lake Taupo he thought of selling it, but I had always loved the place, so when I came into my inheritance we had it valued and I bought it from him.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘Mother is good at dropping hints about it being time I turned it into a family home. She’s looking for grandchildren, you understand.’
‘She has someone in mind for you?’ Cathie asked carefully.
‘Oh, yes—she has Lola at the head of the queue.’
Cathie’s eyes widened. ‘Lola? But I thought—I thought she’d be a middle-aged woman with a family of her own—’
‘Really? What put that idea into your head?’ he drawled.
‘I don’t know. It’s just a conclusion I jumped to,’ she admitted, feeling quite stupid, then she hurried on, ‘Tell me about Lola. Is there an understanding between you? I mean—is she likely to resent the fact that I’m staying in your house?’ The questions came tumbling before she could prevent them from slipping off her tongue.
He remained silent for several long moments until at last he said, ‘Lola Maddison is two years my junior. She is a hairdresser who goes to her salon only in the afternoons, her assistants running it when she’s not there. Needless to say we’ve known each other for most of our lives, and there has always been a good relationship between our parents. However, Lola has never been given the right to resent anyone I’ve taken into the house.’
‘Perhaps you’re not in the habit of inviting girls of my age to stay for a week or more,’ she suggested, realising he had not answered her question about the possibility of an understanding between himself and Lola.
‘No, you’ll be the first to do that,’ he admitted. ‘The others have been casual guests for an evening when I’ve done a little entertaining and Lola has acted as hostess. And there are also times when I give the staff a social evening at home,’ he added nonchalantly. ‘It’s good for management-staff relations.’
‘Staff? Oh, yes—you said something about a factory.’
‘The term “factory” is loosely used. It’s really a woollen mill. I waited for you to ask me about it, but when you didn’t I realised you weren’t even remotely interested.’
‘Did you expect me to pry into your private affairs?’ she demanded in an indignant tone. ‘I waited for you to tell me, but you just shut up like a clam.’
‘Which shows how easily misunderstandings can occur. Well, if you’re really interested—my father went into the woollen industry when he left school. He carried on with it in New Zealand, his expertise making it easy for him to find employment. Eventually he went into partnership with a man who had started the mill, and after the senior partner’s death he was able to buy the widow’s shares. We specialise in rugs and blankets. Didn’t I tell you I was interested in woollen goods?’
‘Yes, I remember,’ she admitted reflectively, recalling their moments in the Trossachs Wool Shop when he’d confessed to an interest in woollen goods. But at that particular time she had been peeved with him, and had allowed her irritation to prevent her from enquiring further into this question.
However, now that she came to think about it, she found no difficulty in visualising him at the head of an enterprise which produced high-quality merchandise, and the knowledge caused her to feel she knew the man sitting beside her a little better. For some strange reason this proved to be a comfort, soothing her nerves sufficiently to enable her to doze, so that even the film being shown went unnoticed.
Changi Airport at Singapore was eventually reached, the local time being early evening. The long road into the city ran between lush vegetation of palms and flowers, and it was here that Baird had insisted upon having a night’s stopover. He had booked them into the thirty-seven-storey Pan Pacific hotel where long creepers trailed from lofty balconies and where they were surrounded by a dazzling display of orchids, indoor fountains and trees.
Amy was fascinated by the four barrel-shaped lifts which were decorated with rows of light bulbs, and which sped silently up and down their section of the wall like illuminated ladybirds. But despite sleeping on the plane she was really too weary to enjoy such glamorous surroundings, and begged to be taken to the room she would share with Cathie. In the lift a gasp escaped her as the orchid-filled lounge fell
away and they shot upwards.
Baird opened the door of their bedroom with its tiled bathroom, and as the older woman walked across the room to gaze through the window he spoke in a low voice to Cathie. ‘When you’ve assisted her to bed, come to my room. I’m in the one next door.’
The request surprised her, causing her to look at him doubtfully, then she hesitated before asking, ‘For—for any special reason?’
He sensed her reluctance, his mouth taking on a cynical twist as he said, ‘You’ll learn of it when you arrive—that’s if you do arrive—although you’ve no need to fear being alone with me in a room where there’s a bed—’
A slow flush crept into her cheeks as her chin rose slightly. ‘I’ll see you later,’ was all she said, then she turned to Amy, who had begun fumbling with the fastenings of her dress, her arthritic fingers turning the task into a major operation.
It took little time for Cathie to see her great-aunt comfortably settled between the sheets, but despite this fact she did not hasten to make her way to the next room. She deliberately took her time in peeling and cutting tropical fruit that had been left in a basket for their use, and with it she handed Amy a magazine that would tell her about Singapore and all it had to offer.
As she did so her mind recalled Baird’s words. There was no need to fear being alone with him in a room where there was a bed, he’d assured her. This, obviously, was because he was not even remotely interested in her, at least, not emotionally. But as she was already aware of this fact, why should it irritate her?
At last she said to Amy, ‘I’ll be in the next room with Baird. If you need me, just bang on the wall with your stick.’
Amy smiled. ‘I’ll not be needing you, my dear. You’d better go. Men hate to be kept waiting.’
‘Do they, indeed?’ Cathie said, wondering if she should dally a little longer. But moments later she was knocking on Baird’s door.
CHAPTER FOUR
BAIRD opened the door to her, his face unsmiling. ‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d decided not to come,’ he said.
‘You mean you don’t like to be kept waiting?’ The question came innocently.
He ignored it by asking another. ‘Amy is all right?’
‘Yes. I gave her a magazine and some fruit, although she really wasn’t hungry after that last meal on the plane.’
‘Good. Come and see the view.’
Cathie had already seen it from the room occupied by Amy and herself, but she made no reference to this fact as he drew her towards the window, which offered a panorama of tall buildings, an endless stream of traffic far below, and the reflection of lights dancing on the water surrounding Singapore.
‘I suppose you do realise that Singapore is an island?’ he asked in a fatherly manner, as though offering information to a child.
‘Yes. I’m not entirely ignorant,’ she responded coolly. ‘I’ve also heard of Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, the British administrator who was responsible for the acquisition and the foundation of Singapore in 1819. He was also a founder and first president of London Zoo,’ she added for good measure.
‘It’s a pity he can’t see Singapore today—and especially its zoo,’ Baird said. ‘I’ve thought of taking you and Amy there tomorrow. We don’t have to be at the airport before evening.’
‘Have you asked Amy if she likes zoos? Some people have an aversion to them.’
‘She’ll like this one,’ he declared with confidence. ‘It’s a unique park where the animals roam freely in an environment similar to their own natural habitat. Of course they’re separated from the public by moats and unobtrusive barricades.’ He paused, looking at her thoughtfully before he asked, ‘How would you like to have a meal with an orangutan? You can do so at certain hours. The name means “man of the woods”.’
She laughed. ‘No, thank you—I’d rather have a meal with you—man of Glengyle.’
His mouth twisted slightly. ‘You’d honestly prefer to eat with me instead of with an orangutan? Thank you—that’s an enormous relief.’
The expression on his face sent her into a fit of the giggles, then, sensing his underlying irritation, she said quickly, ‘Something tells me you didn’t invite me here to talk about Singapore and its zoo.’
‘You’re right. I thought you might like to talk to somebody else.’
She felt slightly bewildered. ‘You mean—yourself?’
‘No. I’m well aware that you’re not particularly interested in talking to me. I was referring to your mother—or your grandmother.’
Her jaw sagged slightly. ‘Mother—?’
‘Yes. They’re both only a phone call away. What have you done about letting them know they have a visitor due to arrive?’
‘Nothing. They won’t look upon Amy as a visitor. She’s family.’
‘Nevertheless they should be told to expect her and that she’ll spend the first week, or even more, in my house at Palmerston North.’
She felt dismayed. ‘More than a week—?’
‘You’ll find that Amy will take days to get over her jet-lag—and then my parents’ arrival will depend upon when it’s convenient for them to make the trip from Lake Taupo.’
‘I see.’ She bit her lip as a troubled look settled upon her face.
It did not escape his observation. ‘What’s the matter? Are you finding the thought of staying extra time in my house objectionable even before you’ve stepped across the threshold?’
‘No—no, of course not,’ she assured him hastily.
‘But something is troubling you. Don’t bother to deny it, it’s written all over your face.’
‘I think it’s more likely to be troubling Lola,’ she said, deciding to be frank.
His mouth became a stubborn line. ‘I can’t believe there’s the slightest reason for it to affect her.’
‘And I can’t believe you’re so naïve that you’re unable to see the picture. However, I’ve been told that men are innocent creatures,’ she added with a chuckle.
He became exasperated. ‘What picture? What the devil are you going on about?’ he snarled.
‘Surely it’s obvious,’ she said patiently. ‘Didn’t you tell me your mother would like to see you married to Lola? No doubt Lola’s mother has similar hopes—and so we have two mothers with but a single thought. To complete the trio, we have Lola, who cares for your house because she also hopes that one day it will be her own home.’
‘This is all utter damned nonsense,’ he snorted furiously.
She sent him a sidelong glance. ‘You’re still not getting even the tiniest glimpse of the picture?’
‘Not even the remotest peep.’
‘You really believe that a woman who already has her own business will iron shirts because she likes ironing shirts? You must be joking. It’s enough to make any woman laugh.’
‘You’re forgetting one small point,’ he declared coldly. ‘She might have a fancy for ironing shirts.’
Cathie’s laughter rang in the air. ‘More likely it’s the man inside the shirt who’s caught her fancy. Think about it.’
His face became serious. ‘If you must know, I have thought about it. Lola and I have been good friends for years—but she hasn’t yet lit the spark that would send me rushing to the altar.’
‘Have you explained this fact to your mother?’ Cathie asked, wondering why she should feel conscious of an unexpected relief. It was almost as though she—but no, that was ridiculous.
Baird’s answer cut into her ponderings. ‘Yes, I’ve tried, but Mother has some daft idea about love coming later. However, that’s a risk I’m not prepared to take.’
‘I can’t say I blame you,’ she found herself admitting.
His brows rose as he looked at her with a hint of surprise. ‘I’m glad there’s at least one point upon which we can both agree.’ His tone was ironical. ‘Now, then—tell me your home phone number.’
She sat on the side of the bed while he pressed buttons and moments later she was speaki
ng to her mother in New Zealand.
Mavis Campbell’s voice came through the phone with sufficient clarity for Baird to hear it without holding the receiver. He remained sitting on the bed beside Cathie, then grinned with satisfaction while her mother expressed her delight when she knew that Amy was travelling with them.
He then nodded his approval as she said she quite understood his desire to keep Amy in his home until his parents had met her. But that time would soon pass and then Amy would come to stay with them at Levin—although in the meantime she would drive Gran to greet Amy as soon as the jet-lag had vanished.
As the conversation ended Baird said, ‘Your mother impresses me as being a sensible woman. She grasped the situation immediately.’
‘Did you expect her to do otherwise?’ Cathie queried with a hint of indignation. ‘Is it that you have little respect for my intelligence, so you expected little from my mother? Like mother, like daughter, as the saying goes.’
‘So—you’re an expert at jumping to conclusions,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Excuse me while I make another call. Lola must also be informed that I’m bringing home guests.’
‘Oh—then I’d better leave you to speak to her privately.’
‘There’s no need. Please stay where you are.’ His hand detained her when she would have risen from her seat on the side of the bed.
The phone buttons were tapped again and within a few moments a different voice came into the room but with the same clarity of sound as the previous call. It was low, yet it held a dominant ring.
‘Hello—Lola Maddison speaking.’
‘Lola—it’s Baird.’ He smiled as though pleased to hear her.
‘Baird—where are you? Why haven’t you written— ?’
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