by Flora Kidd
They walked back round the head of the bay, Ross leading; Sally followed, her thoughts jumbled. If he and Lydia bought the cottage and lived in it how would she bear it? she wondered as they reached the fence and prepared to struggle through it.
‘Wait.’ Ross’s hand was on her arm and she straightened up to look at him. Then to her surprise he picked her up and put her over the fence.
Disconcerted by his action, Sally had time only to mutter a breathless ‘thank you’ before she had to hurry after him as he strode away across the field.
As they angled across towards the gate they met again the full fury of the wind, this time from behind. Occasionally a very strong gust would cause Sally to run involuntarily. The third time it happened Ross laughed and linking his arm through hers held it tightly so that his grip prevented her from being blown along.
‘You’re a featherweight,’ he observed. ‘Come to think of it, you look thinner than when I last saw you. Have you been pining again?’
‘No, of course not.’ She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp, but he held it tightly against him. ‘Who would I pine for?’
‘Well, I know it wouldn’t be for me ... you were so emphatic about me going that you must have been delighted when you heard that I’d moved out, so I can only guess that Mike has been neglecting you.’
‘No, he hasn’t,’ defended Sally. She had had enough of people thinking that Mike had to dance attendance on her all the time. ‘He hasn’t had much time to spare ... you of all people should know that. And then I went to Ireland to stay with Maeve last week.’
‘You dared to leave the nest?’ he jibed. ‘And tomorrow
you’re thinking of going to Ayr, all by yourself. You are adventurous!’
The hostility which she had sensed earlier was back. Stung by his jibes, bewildered by his unfriendliness, Sally flashed back,
‘I’m going to London for the rest of my holiday in October.’
‘Then it would seem that your rehabilitation is almost completed. I wonder if you’ll ever dare to leave Portbride for longer, to go and work in say Glasgow ... or even London?’
‘No, never. I shall never leave Portbride. I couldn’t,’ said Sally emphatically.
They had reached the car and he released her to delve into his pocket for the car keys to unlock the car. He made no comment on her decided statement and she had the impression that he had withdrawn completely.
‘Have you returned to the site permanently?’ she asked hesitantly, in an attempt to draw his interest back.
He unlocked the door and opened it, taking time to answer her question. When she did not make any move to get into the car he glanced at her, a cold, unfriendly glance.
‘I shall stay long enough to make sure the house is demolished and that everything is running smoothly. I’ll try not to make it longer than three weeks. Think you can stand it?’
Ignoring the taunting question, Sally forced herself to ask another question.
‘And then where will you go?’
‘Such interest in my movements!’ he remarked, and his sarcasm scorched her feelings. ‘I suppose you want to make sure it will be far away from here?’
‘No, I wasn’t thinking that at all,’ she retorted. It dawned on her suddenly that she had hurt his feelings that night when she had told him to go away. She had hurt the impregnable Ross. She should be crowing over her victory, but instead she was searching for a way to explain.
‘Then why do you want to know where I’m going?’ he retaliated.
‘Because I want to go with you,’ was the answer which
sprang unbidden into her mind. But she couldn’t say it. Not when he was so openly hostile towards her.
‘Get in. We can’t stand here for the rest of the evening,’ he said impatiently. ‘It’s going dark and the lifeboat will be back.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
ARMED with a great bunch of autumn flowers, Sally caught the five-fifteen bus for Ayr. It was a country bus and she expected to arrive in the country town at a quarter to seven. From the bus station she would have to catch another bus out to the hospital.
It was a calm, damp evening, very different from the previous one when the lifeboat had returned safely to harbour, its mission successfully completed.
Sally looked out of the bus window with interest. It was a long time since she had been to Ayr, and this was only the second time she had left Portbride by road since the accident. The first time had been with Ross to visit Glen Trool, when he had forced her to ride in the Land-Rover. Perhaps if he hadn’t made her go she would still be nervous and unable to make this trip now.
Determinedly she stared out of the window, pushing Ross to the back of her mind. The gale of yesterday had wreaked havoc in the fields, flattening the crops of oats and barley which had ripened so fast during the fine weeks of August, giving hopes of a good harvest. Now, unless the weather turned dry again the farmers would have difficulty in salvaging the battered crop. Not that the occurrence was unusual in the history of her country. It happened so often on the farms, this raising of hopes only to have them dashed again. No wonder the land bred a dour, determined type of people accustomed to disappointment!
The bus wended its way along country road to pick up people from small villages and hamlets. Most of the people were women clutching bunches of freshly cut flowers like herself, obviously bound in the same direction. Many of them knew each other and called out greetings in the broad Ayrshire dialect.
Once at the bus station at Ayr she did not have long to wait for the other bus. At the hospital she had time to buy a cup of tea and a sandwich in the waiting room, then found her way to the ward where Mike was.
He was lying flat on his back and his right leg was in traction, supported in a sort of cradle which meant, Sally decided, that the break was above the knee. His eyes were closed and he looked very pale, but when the nurse said briskly, ‘Visitor for you, Mr. Searle,’ he opened them wide.
‘Visitor for me? And there I was thinking nobody cared! Sally, you angel! If only I could sit up I’d kiss you. You wouldn’t like to lean down and give me a peck, would you?’
Blushing a little, knowing the visitors at the next bed were watching and laughing, Sally bent and kissed him on a rather bristly cheek.
‘I’ve brought some flowers from the garden. I didn’t know what else to bring. Aunt Jessie said I should bring things to eat, but I wasn’t sure.’
‘That’s right, bring something for me to eat. Come again tomorrow and bring them. Sit down and talk to me. I’m not supposed to talk much because it hurts me to breathe. Tell me about your holiday.’
She told him, but even to her own ears it didn’t sound very interesting, so she went on to tell him about the lifeboat being called out.
‘Wish I’d been there to see that,’ he grumbled. ‘I suppose you’ve no news of the site, about what’s happening there? I asked one of the nurses to call the number and ask, but she just smiled sweetly at me and told me not to worry.’
‘She’s right, you needn’t worry. Ross came back yesterday afternoon.’
‘Good,’ he almost shouted. ‘Have you seen him, spoken to him?’
‘Shh, Mike! If you get excited they won’t let me visit you. Yes, I think he must have come as soon as he heard the news.’
‘But I’d no idea he was through in South Wales. Ask him to come and see me, there’s a love.’
‘Very well.’
‘You don’t sound exactly overjoyed at the thought of having to speak to him. Did he tell you what he’s going to do about the house?’
‘He says he’s back in order to demolish it. He was going to see Craig last night.’
After leaving her and her father at Rosemount Ross had gone on to the House on the Brae, to see Craig and of course to see Lydia.
‘Well, that’s a relief,’ sighed Mike, closing his eyes again. ‘Now I can sleep again. I couldn’t last night in spite of all the pills they gave me. I kept seeing that wall coming at me. Harris and I w
ere inspecting the house to see how it was standing up to the rough weather we’ve been having ... Hold my hand, Sally.’
Sally put her hand into his left one which was lying on the sheet and his fingers curled around it.
‘It’s a nice hand,’ he murmured. ‘Strong and capable. I bet you can cook and sew and do all the things that nice old-fashioned girls do.’
Ross had called her old-fashioned once.
‘Do you think I’m old-fashioned just because I can do those things? I’m quite capable of doing many other things too.’
‘Compared with the girls I usually associate with you’re old-fashioned.’
‘I wish I wasn’t. I wish I was sophisticated and knew all the answers,’ she replied.
‘But why? That sort are two a penny.’
‘If they’re the sort people want I’d like to be like them,’ insisted Sally.
Mike closed his eyes again. A faint line appeared between his eyebrows and she wondered if he was in pain. She hadn’t intended to speak as she had, but somehow all the emotion she had been bottling up had forced its way out.
‘Are you all right, Mike?’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.’
He squeezed her hand gently and opened his eyes again. ‘That’s all right, I understand. I’ve been trying to think who you know is like your description, and the only person I can think of is Lydia Wood. Now why on earth do you want to be like her?’
Sally bit her lip and looked away. He was far too shrewd.
‘Is there anything special you would like me to bring for you tomorrow?’ she asked, hoping to divert his thoughts.
He grinned.
‘Don’t think you’ve put me off the scent by asking that innocent question. I’ll have plenty of time tonight and tomorrow to think out an answer for myself to the riddle.’
He closed his eyes again, obviously very tired. They did not talk any more, but when Sally stood up at the end of visiting time he pulled at her hand and whispered,
‘Come again, Sally, and bring Ross.’
The only way she could think of getting a message to Ross was by telephoning the site. To her relief she was unable to speak to him, but the girl who answered assured her that her message would reach him.
She passed on this piece of news to Mike the next evening. He seemed less tired and glanced with interest at the magazines and books she had brought him, although he was slightly disappointed that Ross was not with her. This time with a great effort Sally managed to keep the conversation light, and not once did they refer to Lydia until she was leaving. Then Mike glanced at her with a mischievous twinkle in his tired eyes and observed airily,
‘I think I know why you want to be like Lydia.’
‘Oh, why?’
‘I’m not telling ... not yet anyway. But I wouldn’t bother to be like her if I were you. It would be a waste of time. Be yourself, Sally, and believe me, you’ll have more success.’
On the way home, looking out of the window of the bus at the darkening sky, Sally puzzled over Mike’s parting words. Mike liked her as she was, there was no doubt about that. And she liked him. But that was where it stopped, and she was sure he would be no more concerned than she would be if he moved away to another site now. So it wasn’t with him that she would have more success if she was herself as he had advised.
The street lamps were shedding pools of light on the wet surface of the pavement when Sally descended from the bus in the main street of Portbride and a fine misty rain was sweeping in from the sea. She had hardly walked a few yards when a car eased to a stop beside her. A window was lowered and Lydia looked out.
‘Ross says we may as well give you a lift since we’ll be passing your house,’ she said rather ungraciously.
‘No, thank you, I’d rather walk.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’ll get soaked,’ said Lydia, reaching back and opening the back door of the car. ‘Besides, we want to ask you about Mike.’
Reluctantly Sally stepped into the back of the car. Ross glanced over his shoulder briefly and said,
‘Pride has its uses, but not when it’s raining and you haven’t a raincoat or an umbrella. How’s Mike tonight?’
He released the brake and the car moved forward down the road.
‘A little better tonight. He said he’d been able to sleep. He didn’t the first night because he was too worried about the site. When I told him you were here, he relaxed. Did you get my message? He wants to see you. He hoped you might go tonight. He was rather disappointed.’
She could not help rebuking him. He had preferred to go out with Lydia rather than go to see Mike.
‘We’ll go tomorrow, Ross, and save Sally a journey,’ purred Lydia.
‘I’ll go. You won’t,’ was the terse reply.
‘Oh, why not? I thought we’d go and you could take me to that lovely hotel by the sea, at the golfing place. I can’t remember the name.’
‘Why should I take you there, when you’ve been there already?’ returned Ross. ‘And don’t tell me that you’re longing to see Mike, because I won’t believe it.’
Lydia sighed exaggeratedly.
‘You are really being most difficult! I thought I’d explained that I only went with Craig because I was lonely while you were in Wales.’
‘Were you lonely tonight too? Is that why you walked out to the site?’ His tone was acid and Sally flinched on Lydia’s behalf.
“Yes, partially ... and I wanted to see you.’
Ross made no reply and Lydia half turned in her seat and said to Sally,
‘I think you’re very loyal, the way you visit Mike. Such an awkward journey too. I was talking to your aunt today and she was telling me how you have to set out as soon as you leave work. You must be famished when you get home. Mike is a very lucky person, don’t you think, Ross, to inspire such loyalty.’
‘Loyalty has always been one of Sally’s characteristics,’ he replied, and stopped the car in front of Rosemount.
‘I’m sure it has,’ agreed Lydia, sugar sweet. ‘But it requires more than loyalty to visit a person night after night in hospital when such a journey is involved. It also requires devotion, or love, if you like. Don’t you agree with me?’
‘I can’t see that my agreeing with you makes any difference,’ replied Ross carelessly. ‘If that is the way you see it I’m sure that’s the way it is. No need for you to take the bus tomorrow, Sally. I’ll take you.’
Sally was out of the car in a flash. She leaned back through the open door to say,
‘No, thank you. You’ll want to talk business to Mike. I’ll visit him another time. Goodnight. Thanks for the lift.’
She was rather pleased with the way she had handled Ross’s offer to take her into Ayr. She had learned the hard way that she must avoid being alone with him. No longer would she follow where he led. It was too dangerous.
It had sounded though as if he was giving Lydia a rough time. Probably Lydia’s ploy to make him jealous had worked too well and he was punishing her for going out with Craig. He had been very unpleasant to her, and remembering Lydia’s wish to see him jealous, Sally wondered whether his behaviour had come up to expectations.
She was glad she did not have to go on the bus to Ayr the next evening. On the way home she dawdled, enjoying the mellow September sunshine. The harbour was empty apart from the lifeboat swinging at its mooring. A few seagulls flapped about idly, looking hopefully for fish. But there were no groups of holidaymakers standing about to throw it to them. Summer was almost over and Portbride was returning to normal.
Halfway up the brae, she met Miriam coming down, Dolly, her miniature grey poodle, at her heels. As soon as the little dog saw Sally it dashed up to her and started to jump up and down, twisting its small body and yapping furiously.
‘Down, Dolly, down!’ admonished Miriam. ‘She’s so excitable and doesn’t go visiting enough, and so takes offence at everyone. I’m surprised to see you. I thought you’d be off to see Mike aga
in.’
‘Ross is visiting him tonight.’
‘Well, I’m sure you’re glad to stay at home. I was only saying to Ross last night when Lydia brought him in how good you’ve been and what a devoted wife you’ll make for Mike.’
‘But I’m not going to marry Mike, Mrs. Hunter.’
‘Aren’t you? Oh, you’re just being coy because he hasn’t popped the question yet. But I know the way it’s going to be for you, and I’m so happy for you.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘I only wish I could feel the same way for Lyddy ... She’s gone, you know.’
Bulldozed as usual by Miriam’s manner of speech, Sally was mentally shaking herself out of the mud and could only croak,
‘Gone where?’
‘She left this morning. Took a taxi to Ayr and then went by train to Glasgow. She said she was going to Edinburgh.’
‘She’s gone to visit friends, then?’ asked Sally.
‘I don’t know. That’s the trouble, she wouldn’t say. She was in such a wild mood. I’ve always known that Lyddy had a temper, but I didn’t think she could be so cattish, so spitting mad. I’m afraid it’s all Ross’s doing.’ Miriam shook her head sorrowfully and said sagely, ‘He’ll have trouble with her, I know he will. She won’t forgive him easily when he goes to make it up with her.’
‘But what did he do, what did he say?’ queried Sally.
‘Now, I can’t tell you that, can I? I mean it wouldn’t be right. Their quarrel is entirely their affair. But as I warned Ross, you can’t slight a woman like Lydia and hope to get away with it. On the other hand, I was always telling her when she kept going out with Craig ... a man of Ross’s temperament has to be handled very carefully. He may like to play about himself, but the woman he loves must be completely untarnished and his alone. Ah well, I mustn’t bother you with any more of my troubles. I had hoped Lydia might have become more friendly with you. She might have learned something from your gentler approach. Remember me to Mike when you see him!’
She went off down the hill. Sally watched her go. As usual she had learned so much and yet so little from Miriam’s conversation. Ross had been jealous, as Lydia had hoped, but apparently had been more unpleasant than Lydia had bargained for, so she had gone away. Another ploy, no doubt, to see if he would follow her. But would he be able to go? At the moment he was busy and couldn’t go. Three weeks he had said he would be here. Would that be too late? Somehow she didn’t think so, and she could imagine Lydia lying low in Edinburgh, making sure that her aunt and therefore Ross knew where she was.