by Jane Corrie
Cassy looked away quickly as a feeling of guilt washed over her. She couldn't argue with anything Sylvia had said; from Sylvia's point of view it was sadly true. Her father had set his mind on getting his daughter what he would consider a suitable husband, wealthy of course, but Trevor Bruton was a dull and rather pompous young man, and Sylvia had Cassy's utter sympathy on this point. 'He might try to push you, but he can't make you say yes, can he?' she remonstrated gently.
For this she received an accusing look from Sylvia. `Can you see him leaving it at that?' she demanded fretfully.
`Well--' conceded Cassy, a little nonplussed as to how she could ease the situation brought about solely through her uncle's blockbusting way of achieving a target. If anything, she was rather inclined to encourage than to discourage her from her stand against tyranny, particularly as she had had to make the same bid for freedom. 'You don't have to leave the U.K., do you? Why not move in with me?' she suggested hopefully. 'There's enough room at Mayden to house a family I'd be glad of your company.'
Sylvia flung her a pitying look. 'That won't work,
and you know it,' she said slowly. 'Besides, you wouldn't want Dad breathing down your neck every day, would you? You wouldn't have any freedom then either. He'd probably take over the kennels while he's about it!'
Cassy's small white teeth caught her bottom lip; it was a distinct possibility that he would do just that, and it was another point she couldn't argue against. As it was, Cassy was sure that he expected her to put in the odd appearance when there was an important dinner party to be arranged, but she was willing to cooperate in this respect as long as she had the kennels. She sighed. 'Very well,' she conceded slowly, 'you want to stay here. What sort of a job were you expecting your champion to find for you?' she queried, deciding to go along with her for the time being, since she was sure that the glamour of the island would soon wear off, and she would be heading for home again after a few months.
Sylvia gave her a half suspicious, yet hopeful look. `You mean you'll help me?' she said incredulously. `Oh, Cassy ! If you're on my side, I know I can do it!' She stared down at her hands again, agitating the tassle. 'It won't be for all that long,' she confided slowly. 'I mean, I don't suppose I'd want to stay here forever. It's just that I can't face going back at the moment. It's been so wonderful here without having plans made for me, or having to work out ways and means of getting out of one of those horribly boring weekend parties Dad's so fond of arranging, with Trevor in attendance, of course,' she added dryly. 'It was the thought of you moving out eventually that brought things to a head. I thought that if I stayed
away long enough, Dad might be brought round to the opinion that I have a mind of my own, and let me do things I want to do, and not what he wants me to do—oh, you know what I mean,' she ended lamely.
Cassy nodded. She did know, only too well. The job?' she reminded her.
Sylvia gave a wide smile as she answered happily, `Caddying.'
With brows a shade higher, Cassy blinked at her. 'I beg your pardon? Did you say "caddying"?' she queried.
The smile widened as Sylvia repeated firmly, `Caddying. You know, carrying the clubs for the golfers.'
Cassy's eyes opened wider. But you don't know one end of a club from the other!' she exclaimed caustically.
A delighted laugh greeted this bald statement. 'Well, I do know which end they hit the ball with. What I don't know is what is which—I mean, what they would use for different strokes, but Justin will see to that. He did mention that they were short of caddies at the moment, with the championship going on. I won't be carrying clubs for the professionals, of course —er—the ones taking part in the competition, I mean, but lots of the guests here expect to have a round of golf, that's what they come for, and they also expect to find a caddy available. They pay enough anyway, and they're good tippers,' she added musingly.
The mention of golf brought Cassy's thoughts back to the Marchants. 'By the way, are the Marchants around?' she asked, breaking into Sylvia's musings of rich rewards from grateful golfers.
Sylvia shook her head. 'They've gone home,' she said, now on a sober note. 'Poor old Mr Marchant collapsed on the green a week ago, and was taken to hospital. Mrs Marchant was terrified it was a heart attack, but according to the doctor that attended him, it was a sort of sunstroke. He was so enthralled watching the golfing stars in action that he didn't take the heat into account, and he hadn't been wearing a hat that day. Even so, Mrs Marchant wasn't taking any chances, and wouldn't be satisfied until she had got him back home and got his own doctor to have a look at him. They went back yesterday, as soon as he left the hospital here.'
Well, at least her uncle could not lay any blame or charge of neglect on Mr Marchant's shoulders, although knowing him he would have a good try, mused Cassy, then brought her mind back to the present. 'What does this Justin do?' she asked curiously.
Sylvia gave a quick grin. 'To be honest, I can't quite make out what he does do,' she confided. 'He's not one of the golfers; he plays, of course, but only when someone's looking for a partner. He sometimes gives lessons on the finer points of the game for some of the guests.' She shrugged casually. 'Seems to fill in where necessary. Does a lot of organising, and knows everything that's going on.' She frowned. don't think he lives here permanently I think he moves around a lot. I did hear someone say how nice it was to see him again, and I gathered that they were residents--on the island, I mean, not in the hotel.'
Cassy was silent for a moment or so while she digested this news. The man did sound a little like a soldier of fortune, moving from one job to another, but always
by the sound of it circulating the luxury circuits. Thank goodness Sylvia had had the sense to see that he would not be interested in her—or would he? she asked herself shrewdly; there was enough wealth in the Mellar family to attract someone on the make. 'Does he know your background?' she asked casually.
The start that Sylvia gave showed that her thoughts had been elsewhere. 'Oh, dear,' she said ruefully, 'now we're coming to the part I said you wouldn't like,' but a twinkle in her eyes belied her solemnity.
Taking due note of the twinkle, Cassy also noted that she had not caught on to her line of thinking, and perhaps this was just as well. She did not want to put her back up at this stage of the proceedings. I'm all ears,' she said dryly.
began Sylvia slowly, then took a deep breath, 'I told him I'd decided to stay here because ...' she shot Cassy a quick look, 'because ...' she went on, not quite so firmly now, 'my best friend was having an affair with my father!' it came out in a rush, and on seeing the widening of Cassy's eyes at this outrageous statement, she looked away hastily and concentrated her gaze on the deep red carpet at her feet.
It was a little while before Cassy found her voice, and when she did it was several octaves higher than normal. 'You what?' she squeaked, closing her eyes as she recalled Sylvia's welcome to her. So that was what she had meant by, 'It's her ! "You mean that you told him that I ...' She couldn't go on, but stood staring at Sylvia with a look of utter incredulity on her face.
Sylvia was still unable to look at her, which was not surprising under the circumstances. 'I said you wouldn't like it,' she murmured defensively.
Cassy tried the fine old remedy of taking a deep breath, but it did not help much, and it was all she could do not to rush across the room and shake Sylvia hard, if not strangle her! 'Thanks for the compliment,' she got out between clenched teeth. 'I can only thank providence that your father's fatally attractive presence is not at the moment available !
This produced a strangled chuckle from Sylvia, and unable to contain her amusement she threw herself back on the bed in a paroxysm of laughter.
`And what,' demanded Cassy furiously, 'was Christine supposed to be doing all this time? I suppose you forgot to tell this Justin that your father was recently married, didn't you?'
It took a supreme effort on Sylvia' s part to control her mirth, but she somehow managed it. 'As a matter of
fact, I did,' she replied, and on seeing Cassy's horrorstruck expression she went on hastily, 'Honestly, Cassy, how was I to know Dad would send you out here? I really thought he would come himself, that's why I sent him a letter with the wrong address, but I knew it was only a question of time before he located me, from the Marchants if no one else.' She sighed heavily. 'I was certain that once Justin saw him and the way he bullies people to get his own way, he'd be bound to be on my side. You know how Dad puts people's backs up,' she appealed.
`His daughter is showing definite signs of following in his footsteps,' ground out Cassy, still partially dazed from Sylvia's mind-boggling disclosures. 'If you wanted a plausible excuse for not going home, what's wrong with Christine?' she demanded. 'Stepmothers are still in fashion, aren't they? The wicked stepmother
theme is a good bet. Why did you have to drag me into your wretched machinations?'
'But that's just it,' answered Sylvia earnestly. 'You've seen Justin; he wouldn't fall for that old story, it's been too used. It had to be a bit more involved than that.' She gave Cassy a pleading look out of her wide blue eyes. 'Look, dear,' she said sofdy, `no one knows us out here. The Marchants have gone home and were off the scene very soon after we arrived, so there was no one to contradict my story,' she shifted restlessly. 'And it was a good one,' she added ruefully. had to convince Justin.'
Cassy's eyes narrowed speculatively. In spite of the fact that Sylvia did not appear to have lost her heart to the man named Justin, she certainly had made a great effort to impress him. 'Does he know how well off your father is?' she demanded.
Sylvia nodded complacently. 'It was part and parcel of the story. I mean, it had to be worth your while for you to make a play for him, wouldn't it?' she said simply.
'So I'm a gold-digger, am I?' asked Cassy, seething.
`Oh, I did explain the circumstances,' replied Sylvia helpfully. told him how you'd been taken into the family after your parents died in that accident—at least that part was true,' she added consideringly, 'but I sort of emphasised the fact that you had no money of your own, and how hard it must have been for you when I had lots.' She averted her eyes quickly from Cassy's indignant ones. also told him how friendly we were, and what a great shock it had been to find that you were ...' she darted a quick look at Cassy before ending with, 'trying to get him to marry you!'
How Cassy kept a hold on her temper she was never to know. The only crumb of comfort lay in Sylvia's reminder that they were unknown out there, and the whole ridiculous tarradiddle would never reach home.
With legs that were decidedly shaky she walked towards the nearest chair and sat down. Something that had puzzled her a little earlier now began to make sense. No wonder the man had looked at her like that! A dull flush stained her features as she recalled the look. She would not be likely to want to meet him again ! She gave a sigh of utter exasperation and stared back at Sylvia, who sat watching her with a wary yet half hopeful expression on her face. 'Do I look a go-getter?' she asked with a trace of wonder in her face, 'or a scheming hussy?'
Sylvia gave her a long considering look. 'You look scrumptious,' she said ruefully, 'that's the trouble— and much younger than I do; you always have. It's your nose, I think,' she added musingly.
or heaven's sake ! ' exploded Cassy. 'Why on earth was it necessary to tell such a ridiculous story? Why couldn't you have just asked for a job and done with it?'
`Because Mr Marchant asked Justin to keep an eye on me,' replied Sylvia stubbornly. 'And he feels responsible for me. I told you he tried to get me to go home, so I had to have some good reason why I should stay. You heard him offer me a job—well, at least he's seriously thinking about it, so it looks as if it's worked.' She flung Cassy another pleading look. 'There wasn't anybody else I could get to help me. Justin knows all the vacancies, and there aren't all that many, and he's
got the influence to help me. Besides,' she added on a brighter note, 'they've got accommodation for the staff in some chalets in the grounds. I'd have to move out of here, of course, but I won't mind that.'
`Bully for you,' commented the still seething Cassy as she got to her feet abruptly. `So I tell your papa that I can't budge you, do I? And that you'll come home when you're good and ready?' she asked bluntly.
Sylvia gave her a startled look. 'You're not going home straight away, are you? Oh, Cassy, you've not had a holiday yet,' she wailed.
Cassy gave her a long considering look before she replied, 'No as a matter of fact I'm not going home yet. As you say, I haven't had a holiday, so I might as well make the most of this trip. Your father suggested as much when he was afraid I might back out of the assignment. I'll probably stay for the whole fortnight.'
A whoop of delight came from Sylvia at this news. `Wonderful!' she said happily. 'Oh, Cassy, there's so much to see here. There's the straw markets for a start. They make hats and bags, and little straw dolls all embroidered in bright silks,' she said enthusiastically. 'I've only seen them from a distance, but we can have a good look round. I'll get one of those brochures that give guides to tourists !'
`Hold on a minute,' remonstrated Cassy indignantly. `Aren't you forgetting something? We're sworn enemies, remember your fond greeting in the lounge just now?' she reminded her grimly. 'You wouldn't want to jeopardise your hard-earned job, would you? It's a very small island, and that Justin of yours won't relish being made a fool of. No, I'm staying, but I'm on my own from here on.'
She turned to leave, and cast a look of reproach at the downcast Sylvia. 'You can't have it both ways,' she told her gently. 'Either I'm the villain of the piece, or you own up and tell the truth—although I don't see how you can do that now, do you?' she queried dryly, and walked to the door. 'See you,' she said brightly. `Don't leave it too long to come home, will you?' she added, as she felt a pang of remorse at Sylvia' s crestfallen expression, and made herself go out of the door.
On the way back to her hotel, Cassy wished there had been some other way she could have handled the situation, but didn't see how. Sylvia had not only burnt her boats but Cassy's as well, so here they were, on a small island all those miles away from home and unable to share the pleasures offered. She felt a prick of wetness at her eyelids. Of all the situations she had thought she might walk into, she had never dreamed of one like this. Sylvia was like a sister to her, and although Cassy was younger than Sylvia, it was she who was the more responsible of the two. If only Sylvia had put her into the picture earlier when she had first had the notion of staying put, they could have worked something out, and Cassy would not have found herself in the unenviable position she was now in.
In a way Cassy blamed herself. She ought to have known how miserable Sylvia was at home, but she had taken her grumblings with a pinch of salt, for Cassy had always been able to soothe the small irritations that cropped up now and again within the family circle, bringing a touch of humour into the situation. But that was before the sudden decision of Mrs Peel's to sell the kennels, and since then Cassy had to con-
fess that all her thoughts and energies had centred on that one target.
As soon as she had arrived back at her hotel Cassy went back to her room. She needed to think about things, and see if there was any way she could bring a litde common sense into the whole farcical proceedings, although on the face of things it did not look as
much could be salvaged.
She sat in a comfortable cane chair placed by the window and took a moment or two off her problem by admiring the scenery presented to her. Of palm trees fringing a golden bay, and how the intense blue of the water turned to a deep purple a little further out. The sky was a bright blue without a cloud in sight and everything was bathed in sunshine. She gave a deep sigh as she recalled what Sylvia had said about touring the island together, and thought how wonderful it might have been, and then was back to her problem.
The man called Justin then entered her mind; she supposed it was too much to hope that he would suddenly take himself off to one of the other is
lands for a spell, since everything hinged on him. It did not matter about anybody else, and even if Sylvia got the job, she would have some free time in which they could do some exploring. Her evenings would be free anyway, and it was particularly the evenings that Cassy was not looking forward to. There wasn't much a single girl could do on her own once the Sun had set, and she did not intend sitting in a bar lounge all evening looking as if she was hoping for a pick-up.
On this thought she was tempted to pack up again and go straight back home, but on second thoughts dis-
carded the idea. She had come a very long way, and it would be stupid of her to back out now. Her small chin jutted out defiantly at the thought. Somehow she would manage to enjoy her trip out to this island paradise, lonely as she would be, but then she had no choice.
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER a light lunch, Cassy picked up a few brochures from the information desk that gave places of interest for the visitors to visit during their stay on the island, and went back to her room to study them and map out an itinerary for her stay, determined to keep herself busy and make the most of her impromptu holiday.
She had just mapped out her afternoon's sightseeing tour when there was a tap on her door, and without waiting for an answer to the summons, Sylvia entered the room. 'You've no need to bother with all that,' she said gaily, as her eyes rested on the brochures that Cassy had spread out on her bed. 'Justin's taking us on a tour of the town this afternoon.'