His tone became terse. ‘If Mother becomes difficult because of Lola you will let me know at once. Is that understood?’
She nodded. ‘I—I don’t want to cause trouble while they’re staying in what was once their own home.’
‘It might surprise you to learn that I’d welcome a showdown. It’s time Mother was put in her place regarding this Lola affair. Needless to say, it was Mother who arranged for Lola to do my laundry, and to do whatever was necessary in the house.’
‘What would you have done without her?’ Cathie queried.
‘I could have arranged for one of the women in this factory to do the job. There’s no problem about getting shirts laundered, but no, Mother wouldn’t hear of it. It had to be Lola.’
‘She sounds as if she’s a determined woman,’ Cathie mused.
‘Yes, but in a subtle way. This began from the time she left to live at Taupo, and of course it has been her method of making sure that I saw something of Lola.’
‘You mean it was her way of throwing you together?’ Cathie asked.
‘That’s it exactly. But it didn’t work. Nor will it ever work.’
‘You’re sure of that?’ Cathie asked in a low voice.
He drew a hissing breath that betrayed impatience. ‘Is your memory short, or is it just that you’d like to hear me repeat myself? When we were in Singapore, didn’t I tell you that Lola had not yet lit the spark that would send me rushing to the altar?’
‘Yes, I remember,’ she said shakily. ‘We were in your bedroom at the Pan Pacific...’ Her voice trailed away and a flush rose to her cheeks as other memories came crowding in upon her—memories of his arms lifting her and carrying her towards the bed.
He regarded her closely. ‘Do you also remember that we would have made love if Amy’s stick hadn’t rapped out a tattoo on the wall?’
She laughed. ‘It warned me to beat the retreat.’
‘Which you did right smartly. I’m glad you can laugh about it now, because it has removed the glumness from your face. Amy would have guessed that there had been a quarrel—and you know what she’d tell us to do about that.’
She knew, but hedged without looking at him, ‘No, I’ve no idea.’
‘Do you remember that same stick banging on the floor in the church at Balquhidder? We were ordered to kiss and become friends because life is too short for quarrels. So—could we sample a drop of her reconciliation medicine?’
Without waiting for her to reply his arms drew her closer to him, his head bent and his mouth closed over hers with a possessiveness that sent the blood hurtling through her veins and caused the usual tingling of her nerves.
At first she stiffened while making a valiant effort to resist the impulse to melt against the firmness of his body, because the response she longed to give would only confirm Lola’s accusation that she was determined to capture his affections.
His lips left hers while he murmured against them, ‘Relax, relax—kiss me as you always do.’
Her arms crept about his neck while fingers fondled the hair at the back of his head. Her lips parted as the pressure of his body against her own sent pulsating sensations to somewhere near the pit of her stomach—nor did it need his arousal to tell her that had they been alone in the factory he would have carried her to a pile of rugs in the showroom.
This time there would be no rapping of Amy’s stick to call a halt, but perhaps it was the rattle and clatter of one of the weaving looms that pierced Baird’s mind. His hands went to her shoulders, gripping them firmly as he put her away from him, and leaving her feeling completely dazed.
‘It’s time I took you home,’ he murmured huskily while gazing at her with a burning light in his eyes.
Home. The word had a lovely sound about it—but she kept the thought to herself. However, another thought raised its head, one which she felt must be voiced, and after a slight hesitation she said, ‘Will you please arrange with Lola to carry on as usual?’
‘Of course. She always fits it in with her salon work, which means she could come in either the morning or in the afternoon.’ He sent her an oblique glance. ‘I’ll warn her that I’ll not tolerate snide remarks to my guests.’
Cathie gave a slight shrug. ‘Don’t worry about it. When she comes I’ll make myself scarce. I’ll probably take Amy for a short walk for exercise.’
He grinned. ‘You mean you’ll take evasive action?’
‘That’s right.’ But there was no answering smile with her reply.
Little was said during the drive home, mainly because Cathie’s mind was in a state of confusion, caused by a sense of intangible irritation emanating from Baird. Turning to pass a remark to him, she had been startled by the grim expression on his face and the tight line about his mouth. They were signs that he harboured resentment, and she feared that it stemmed from something to do with herself.
Yet only a short time previously he had kissed her deeply. His arms had held her in an embrace that caused his heart to thud with such force that she had become aware of the fact. But now he stared ahead in scowling silence. Was this because he regretted those moments of closeness?
He stopped the car at the drive entrance, then surprised her by asking, ‘Do you think Amy would enjoy dinner at a restaurant this evening? I’d like to take you both out.’
She thought for a few moments then shook her head. ‘It’s kind of you, but I think the evening will be too chilly for her. I’m sure she’d prefer to be at home near the warmth of the gas fire. I can easily prepare a meal for us.’
‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’
She laughed as she got out of the car. ‘Mind? Why should I mind? I happen to rather like preparing meals. It’s so satisfying to see people enjoy my efforts.’
‘OK—I’ll see you later.’
She shut the car door then spoke through the open window. ‘Baird—are you annoyed about something?’
He regarded her seriously. ‘Does it show so plainly?’
‘If you must know, it positively shrieks at me.’
‘Oh. Well, if you must know, I’m mad with Lola and mad with myself. Do you want to know more?’
She hesitated, then had to ask, ‘You’re mad with me too?’
‘Yes, because you’ve set the whole thing in motion,’ he responded enigmatically as the car moved forward.
She stood watching as the dark grey Daimler glided noiselessly away, then she walked along the drive feeling more confused than ever. What did he mean by saying she’d set the whole thing in motion? Set what off, for Pete’s sake? But she must not take this problem to Amy, therefore she brushed it from her mind as she went in the door.
Amy called to her from the living room. ‘Is that you, Cathie? Come and tell me all about it.’
She settled herself in the chair opposite, then spoke of the carding, spinning and weaving machines. She told Amy about the variety of rugs and blankets in the showroom, but made no mention of Lola’s visit while she had been in that department. At last she said, ‘You must see it for yourself.’
‘It sounds exciting,’ Amy said.
‘Yes, it was exciting.’ But as she uttered the words she was not thinking of rugs or machinery. She was recalling the thrill of being held in Baird’s arms, and she knew it was something she had to think about. And to think clearly she had to be alone.
Changing the subject abruptly, she asked, ‘Did you finish your letter to Elspeth?’
Amy sighed. ‘Yes. I can only hope she’ll be able to read it. The arthritis in my hands makes my writing atrocious. And I’d be grateful if you’d address it for me, dear. I’d like the postal people to be able to decipher its destination.’
Cathie took the envelope lying on the table beside Amy. She addressed it, then said, ‘Now you’d like it posted, I suppose? Stamps are sold at the minimarket and there’s a letterbox on the corner. A brisk walk is exactly what I need, so I’ll attend to it.’ Here was her opportunity to be alone and to think, she realised.
‘Please don’t be long—I hate being alone,’ Amy quavered.
‘I’ll be as fast as I can,’ Cathie promised. ‘I’ll also see if the minimarket has fish for tonight’s meal.’ She reached the door, the letter in her hand, then paused to look back. ‘Incidentally, Baird thinks it would be better if Lola launders his shirts and continues as usual with whatever she does in the house. So don’t protest if she comes in and takes over as though she owns the place. Just look upon it as normal.’ She then disappeared through the door, closing it after her.
Normal? she thought bitterly as she almost ran along the drive towards the roadway. She herself was the one who should be looking upon it as being normal instead of allowing this raging jealousy to tear at her inside and warp her judgement. Oh, yes, that was what it was—the green-eyed monster of jealousy, lashing at her mind and giving her the urge to scream with fury.
Nor was there difficulty in finding a reason for this inner seething. The answer seemed to jump at her from all sides, coming from the flowers, the trees and being whispered on the breeze. She was in love with Baird. It was as simple as that. The only difficulty lay in facing up to the fact.
The realisation had brought shock, which had caused her to stand still and ponder the situation, and suddenly the job with Mrs Morgan in Auckland seemed like a haven of refuge from certain heartache. In that large city with its beaches and hundreds of sails on the harbour she would build a new life for herself by meeting new friends. She would never see Baird again, and eventually she’d forget him. Or would she?
You idiot for allowing your emotions to get out of control, she scolded herself while glimpsing an unhappy future. Even if he passes out of your life you’ll never forget him. Not for as long as you live will you find another man to replace him, either in your heart or in your mind.
She had no idea how long she remained immobile and gazing into space, but at last she pulled herself together by recalling that she had Amy’s letter to post and fish to buy, plus a few extra items that would enable her to place a nutritious dinner before Baird. At least Lola was not in the position to prepare meals for him—even if she were capable of doing so. Lola finds difficulty in boiling an egg, Baird had said, but it was small comfort.
Shaking herself mentally, she hurried on towards the corner minimarket, where she made more purchases than she had intended. Amy’s letter was stamped and deposited in the mailbox, and she then turned her steps homewards. The bag on her arm grew heavy, but she scarcely noticed its weight because her mind was still mulling over the discovery of her love for Baird and the problems of keeping the fact hidden from him.
By the time she reached the kitchen she was making an effort to deny her emotional state by brainwashing herself into believing she had been mistaken. She was not in love with him at all—it had merely been a mad flight of fancy, although she was ready to admit to a sisterly affection. After all, they’d seen so much of each other since the day they had met. And they’d been close. Yet she knew this to be a long way from the truth. And then her thoughts were diverted when Amy entered the kitchen.
The older woman stood watching Cathie chop parsley before she demanded abruptly, ‘Tell me more about this Lola situation. You rushed out the door before you’d explained thoroughly.’
Cathie put down the sharp knife slowly, then turned to look at her while searching for words. ‘It’s just that Baird’s mother will expect to find Lola continuing with the work that she herself arranged for her to do.’
Amy was puzzled. ‘But with two of us in the house, isn’t it rather ridiculous?’
‘Yes—but don’t you see? If Lola doesn’t continue to do the job she will complain to Mrs MacGregor that I’ve stolen it from her.’ She hesitated, then went on uncertainly, ‘It could lead to—to unpleasantness, because Baird’s mother arranged the job as a matchmaking ploy.’
‘Which will not succeed,’ Amy declared flatly.
‘What makes you so sure about that?’ Cathie asked doubtfully.
‘Because Baird has no real love for Lola. His attitude towards her does not impress me as being that of a man in love. As one grows older one learns to spot the signs,’ she added drily.
Cathie lifted the knife and renewed her attack on the parsley. ‘Do you think Lola has any real love for him?’ The question was dragged from her.
Amy considered her answer before she said, ‘I doubt it. I think Lola is mainly concerned with her own future security, and it could be here, right next door, if only she can manage to make it official.’ She moved closer to study the extensive preparations for the meal. ‘However, I know somebody who does love him.’
Cathie said nothing. Her cheeks became pink and her head was bent lower as she chopped the parsley a little harder.
Amy continued to examine the variety of items on the bench. ‘Green peas, carrots, celery, potato chips—the fish to be done in egg and breadcrumbs with parsley sauce—and how beautifully you’ve cut the lemons. The person I refer to knows that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’
Her words were followed by silence.
‘Well?’ Amy prompted after several moments.
‘Well what?’ Cathie prevaricated.
‘You do love him, don’t you?’
Cathie gave up. ‘How did you know? Or is it written all over my face?’
‘Of course not. But this meal is enough to tell me. And I see you’ve also bought cream to have with blueberry pie for dessert.’
‘But it’s just an ordinary meal—’ Cathie began.
‘No, it is not,’ Amy argued. ‘You could have found plenty that’s already prepared in the freezer, but that wasn’t good enough—therefore you walked to the minimarket for something special to offer to somebody special. That’s what I call a dead giveaway.’
‘You’re too shrewd, Amy,’ Cathie sighed.
‘But I am right? You do love Baird?’ The questions came softly.
‘Who could help it, Amy? But if you must know, I’ve only just discovered the fact for myself.’
Amy shook her head. ‘My dear, I think you’ve loved him for a while, but without realising it.’
‘But he doesn’t love me,’ Cathie said despondently. ‘I think I’d be wise to take that job in Auckland and put miles between us.’
Amy spoke sharply. ‘You will not go to Auckland. You will only talk about going there. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, but I can’t promise anything definite.’
‘Whatever happens, you will hasten slowly,’ Amy advised. ‘Now, then, I’ll leave you alone to get on with catering for the inner man. Have you sufficient lemons? I’d love an excuse to go out and pick a few. In Scotland I never had the luxury of being able to pick my own lemons, and that tree is simply laden.’
Later, when Cathie began listening for Baird’s return from the office, she found herself developing a state of nervousness. She had changed into a fine woollen emerald-green dress with pleated skirt and a high collar to which she had pinned her gold orchid brooch. The matching earrings glinted from between curling tendrils of her red hair, and she had taken extra care with her makeup.
When Baird stepped into the living room he stood still while running appreciative eyes over her appearance. A soft whistle escaped him, then he said in a low voice, ‘You look mighty attractive. Does it mean you’ve decided to come out for a meal after all, despite the appetising aroma in the house?’
She was unaware of the radiance of her smile as she said, ‘No—dinner can be put on the table within a short time. I thought you’d like to relax with a drink before going to the dining room.’
‘How right you are.’ He turned to the older woman. ‘Is she always in this state of clairvoyance, Amy?’
Amy’s face remained serious. ‘I’ve no idea. You must remember that my acquaintance with her is no longer than your own. I’m just hoping I’ll not lose sight of her too soon.’
His dark brows drew together. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, y
ou know she’s been offered a job with the woman for whom she previously worked—what’s her name, dear?’ Amy appealed to Cathie. ‘Is she now Morgan or Brown?’
‘Mrs Morgan, Amy. When I worked for her she was Mrs Brown.’
Baird turned to stare at Cathie. ‘But you’re not taking this job?’
Amy answered for her. ‘Well, naturally, she has to think about it. And she will be needing a job. Isn’t that so, dear?’ She turned innocent eyes upon Cathie.
Before Cathie could utter a word Baird left the room abruptly. During his absence a silence fell between the two women, with Cathie wondering if Amy had been wise to bring up the subject of the job in Auckland. It was not one she wished to discuss at the moment, and she hoped it would be dropped. But it was not.
When Baird returned to the room he carried a silver salver on which there were two sherries and a Scotch. He offered a stemmed crystal glass to Amy, and as he approached Cathie his expression hardened. ‘So—you did come rushing in to tell Amy you’ll be going to Auckland,’ he gritted. ‘I must say I’m disappointed in you. I thought we’d sorted out this problem.’
‘I seem to recall telling you there is nothing to sort out,’ she responded while taking the glass from him with an unsteady hand.
‘What are you talking about, Baird?’ The query came from Amy. ‘Cathie did not rush in to tell me she’d be going to Auckland. In any case, she’s too sensible to accept that job unless she considers it to be the right course for her to take.’
Baird stared into his glass and said nothing.
Amy gave a start as she went on, ‘Oh, dear—I almost forgot to tell you, Cathie. Your mother phoned while you were out at the minimarket. She said she’d readdressed a letter to you, and that she suspects it’s from Mrs Morgan who will have put the offer of the job in writing.’
Baird spoke to Cathie, his tone holding surprise. ‘You walked to the minimarket?’
‘Yes. I posted the letter Amy had written to Elspeth.’ She turned away from him, still feeling hurt by his previous coldness. In some strange way it caused a lump to stick in her throat. Nor had she any intention of listing the other items she had purchased.
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