The Vital Spark

by Carson, Angela

  She felt suddenly tired, but she continued walking until she reached the end of the flower fields, before she dropped down on to an outcrop of rock overlooking the bay where she had swum the day before. Where she had got into difficulties, and been rescued from them by Haydn. She shook her head impatiently. She did not want to think about that, or its aftermath. She closed her eyes and leaned back. Haydn had spoken the truth when he said it was dangerous to cross his path. It had been disastrous for Polrewin. She felt a light thump beside her, and a rough little body leaned heavily against her legs, and she put her hand down to fondle the shaggy head.

  `I wish we'd never set eyes on him, Bandy.'

  A few weeks ago she had not, and life had been a hardworking but peaceful progression towards a set goal, which they were in sight of achieving, she thought with a sigh. Now, everything had been turned topsy-turvy, it seemed, overnight, and she no longer knew in which direction Polrewin was headed. Haydn probably knew. No doubt he had it already planned, she thought bitterly. Jon might possibly know—as much of his plans as Haydn thought fit to tell him. She herself did not know, she could only guess, and her guesswork took her on a journey of wild surmise that was distinctly unsettling.

  `What is it?' Bandy's tail thumped on the ground, although he did not attempt to get up, or bark.

  `It's me,' Haydn dropped lightly over the edge of the

  rock and joined her on her eyrie. 'What a glorious view !' It encompassed the whole of the bay, and the snaking cliffs as far away as Tarmouth. 'Is this your secret hideaway?' he asked.

  It was, but she had no intention of letting him know that she was hiding away from him. 'I come here now and then,' she answered non-committally. The spot had never failed to calm her before. Its magic worked, even now, although the deflation in her anger could have been partly the result of weariness, as well as the peace of their surroundings. Until Haydn joined her, that was. Reluctantly, she had to admit the sheer animal magnetism of the man. She glanced sideways at him. He would have succeeded in the rag trade, or in cosmetics, or hairdressing, she thought. Anything to do with women. Her lips curled as she remembered Betty Dunn's reaction at first sight of him. And then honesty made her admit she could not see him in any of those roles. The world of scented salons was not his forte. The world of business, yes, the challenge was there for him to meet and overcome. His strength would respond to challenge as it would to meat and drink.

  `Jon didn't set Ben on full time at my instigation, Lee.' He spoke quietly, without looking at her, and Lee drew in her breath sharply, taken aback by his direct approach.

  The fact that Jon set him on full time at all is quite bad enough,' she retorted. 'He told him to come because he said we were doing your distributing for you,' she said accusingly. 'Distributing ! Hah ! Four trays of strawberries, and three trays of tomatoes....' Words failed her.

  `Jon set him on because Ben asked him to.' Haydn turned his head then, and regarded Lee with serious eyes. The man was in difficulty, and he turned to Jon for help. And Jon took that way out because he knew he could accept my offer to distribute our stuff in the Tarmouth district any time, he liked. Any time he and you liked,' he amended carefully, and Lee expelled her breath in a long sigh. Jon had not told her the background to his offer to Ben. With his usual enthusiasm for cutting corners, her brother had told her the fact without the details. And she had not asked, she just assumed.... Her assumption had put her in the

  wrong with Haydn, and she resented it.

  `There's nothing we can do about it now,' she shrugged. `The thing's done, and we'll have to find Ben's wages somehow.'

  `You could easily accomplish that, if you took our produce for distribution.'

  `I don't see....' she began angrily, but he did not wait for her to continue.

  `Jon deserves to succeed, Lee. He's put in a lot of hard work on this place.'

  `So have I,' she reminded him tartly.

  `And so have you,' he acknowledged indifferently. 'But where it's your livelihood, it's Jon's life. When it's successful, you'll probably go back and follow your own interests again, you suggested as much yourself,' he reminded her gravely as she opened her mouth to protest, and she closed it again, the words unsaid. She probably would pull out, once Jon was launched. But not until then.

  `I'm only trying to help him to succeed,' Haydn pointed out.

  `What as? The owner of Polrewin, or as one of your managers?' she flared angrily.

  `I've got enough managers to contend with as it is,' Haydn answered her indirectly. That was the trouble, she thought furiously. He was too devious to pin down even to a direct answer to her question.

  `There's another thing,' she put the matter of Ben aside and grasped the other nettle. 'Kindly remember that Jon is my brother, and not my keeper. And neither are you,' she added somewhat inarticulately. 'If I choose to swim in the bay, alone or in company, I shall do so, and I shan't ask your permission,' she finished in a rush.

  `Ah, you heard me speak to Jon.'

  `Since you were both standing right underneath my open bedroom window, I could hardly do anything but hear. I don't eavesdrop,' she snapped.

  `No.' She did not know whether it was a statement or an insulting question. She decided to treat it as the former, and continued to look stonily out to sea. 'But since you seem prone to cramp, I felt I had to mention it to Jon,' he

  began, and she interrupted angrily.

  `I should have reached the point safely enough, the cramp would have gone if you'd left me alone.'

  `I would not.' He sat up then, and looked sternly into her face and his own was set and angry. 'Don't ever run away with that idea and be tempted into foolishness because of it,' he warned her severely. 'I know what I'm talking about....'

  `Do you?' she snapped back, and her chin came up stubbornly. 'I wonder....'

  `I should do, I've lived on the coast all my life,' he retorted bitingly, 'I've seen the idiot tricks careless holidaymakers get up to, jeopardising their own lives and those of the people who try to rescue them. Jon's got quite enough on his plate trying to make a success of Polrewin, without you getting yourself drowned to add to his troubles.'

  It did not seem to matter to him that she might be drowned, so long as she did not add to Jon's troubles. She simmered with silent resentment.

  `I'm going back.' She jumped to her feet. She no longer found her hideout peaceful.

  `It isn't supper time yet.' He consulted his watch.

  `Supper's got to be prepared, and Nell will want some help.' Lee turned on her heel abruptly and left him sitting there, and it did not help her mood that Bandy elected to remain with Haydn instead of coming back to the house with her. Even the dog was on his side, she thought unjustly, and blinked back angry tears as she hurried back home.

  The housekeeper did not need her help, but she accepted the welcome opportunity to chat when Lee presented herself in the kitchen, encased in a voluminous apron.

  `Look at those headlines !' she waved towards the evening paper lying on the seat of her chair. 'You'd think folks would be more careful, wouldn't you?'

  `Holidaymakers in difficulties. Council contemplating sterner measures against people who ignore warning notices. Hmm.' Lee surveyed the preparations for supper thoughtfully. There had been no warning notices in the bay near the point, the bathing there was perfectly safe, provided

  you did not take risks. As she had done, the voice of conscience reminded her.

  `I've made the dry mix for some strawberry shortcake,' Nell pressed her into service after all. 'If you finish that, I can get on with the beans and potatoes.'

  Doing the work she enjoyed most calmed her, and by the time she had slid the mixture into the oven to bake she was in a more rational frame of mind. The calf of her leg still felt sore from the cramp, it would probably be uncomfortable for another twenty-four hours, the attack had been a severe one. The headlines stared up at her from Nell's chair seat, silently reproachful, and perhaps it was their effect that made
her chop nuts to fold into the stiffly whipped Cornish cream to garnish the shortcake.

  `That looks more like Christmas !' Nell raised expressive eyebrows at her unusual extravagance, and she raised a flushed face from the bowl, and hoped the housekeeper would think it was whipping the cream that caused her heightened colour.

  `The strawberries were free, so I felt I had to do my share.' That was true, but it did not entirely account for the turmoil of feelings that suddenly welled up inside her, making her feel confused and uncertain.

  Had she misjudged Haydn? Were his motives in offering Polrewin a chance to expand as altruistic as Jon would have her believe? His concern for her brother's success seemed genuine. It did not extend to herself, but she did not care about that. Or did she? She did not know whether to believe him or not. While she was on the rocks of the point with him, folded in his arms, with his lips pressed down on her own, she would have believed anything he told her.... Her cheeks took on the hue of the strawberries at the thought, and she whipped and folded cream and nuts with a fierce concentration that drew a protest from Nell.

  `You'll have that cream go back, if you set about it like that.'

  So she desisted, and ran upstairs to change, and appeared at the supper table in her acid yellow dress and yellow sandals, with the yellow and white bangles on her arm, as a

  sort of half apology that Haydn could accept or not, just as he wished, she thought defiantly.

  `D'you mean you've never tasted strawberry shortcake before?' Jon looked at his guest incredulously. 'You've never lived,' he sympathised.

  `It's the first time, but I hope it won't be the last. I'll keep you supplied with prime berries if you promise to turn out dishes like this.' Haydn helped himself with undisguised relish to a second piece, and in spite of her defiance Lee could not help feeling a small glow of satisfaction that her cooking met with his approval. Every cook liked to have their efforts appreciated, she excused the glow, and allowed it to remain where it was and warm her through the rest of the supper time.

  'With a bit of luck we'll be turning out our own berries next year,' Jon went on. 'I've given those sketches quite a lot of thought, and it should be a fairly easy matter to rig up some stretchers and sling them in the glasshouses ready for next season. When things slacken down a bit towards the back end of the year will be an ideal time. And Ben will help.' He slid Lee a glance of half apology. 'He was a ship's carpenter in his younger days, so he'll be just the man to turn his hand to making stretchers.'

  `Sketches are all very well,' Haydn conceded, 'but it would be even better if you were to come over and see the real thing for yourself. Now is the ideal time, while the berries are growing. As soon as the Sea Mist is repaired, we could run over to the Channel Islands and back in the one day, if you'd be willing to come along? You could leave Ben in charge, now he's on full time,' he suggested, and Lee darted him a sharp glance. His offer was a sensible one, but.... She frowned. Everything seemed to fit in too well, somehow. Almost as if it was a preconceived plan. But however suspicious she might be, there could be nothing but good in Jon going to see for himself how the experts coped. And it would help him to grow his own berries for market —surely if Haydn merely wanted Polrewin as an outlet for berries from the islands, he would not be showing him how to grow his own? She shrugged and gave up the question,

  and turned her attention to her own supper. Evening was not the time to sort out conundrums, and it had been an eventful day.

  `Just name the day,' her brother accepted the invitation eagerly. 'It'll be interesting to see how a big oufit copes.'

  `In exactly the same way as a small one has to,' Haydn told him drily. 'We have to cost everything down to a fine degree, in just the same way as you do. Our costs are bigger, but then so are our expenses. What doesn't pay for itself has to go.'

  The talk turned to technicalities, and as her brother's partner Lee should have listened, and joined in, but she found her attention wandering. There were enough strawberries left in the tray to make another batch of shortcake. Her love of cookery, which had taken her into the domestic science demonstration field in the first place, had not had much outlet since she came to Polrewin, and she realised for the first time how much she missed it. Now Ben was coming full time, perhaps....

  'Sis ! Haydn's asked you twice !'

  She looked up and met the amused grins of the two Men, and flushed. Whatever Haydn had asked her, she had certainly not heard him.

  `She was wondering what sort of fancy cooking the chef at the Royal Anchor was going to conjure up with those strawberries, and maybe thinking she'd like to find out and try it for herself,' Haydn teased. His guess was so nearly accurate that Lee looked at him, startled, and he smiled. 'I thought so,' he chuckled, and she bit her lip vexedly. She must look very transparent, she thought, annoyed at his easy perception. 'Why not let's go there tomorrow and find out?' he suggested. 'I've got to go to the harbourmaster's office to see about the insurance details for the Sea Mist, and I might as well go to the boatyard at the same time and find out how the repairs are going, so that we can plan our trip home. What about it, Jon?'

  `That's a great idea,' Jon said easily. 'I'll go along with whatever day you fix unless it's a Wednesday. Any deliveries we have, come then,' he explained, 'and since I don't know when your boat will be ready....'

  `We'll make it convenient,' Haydn promised, 'but you haven't said whether you'll come along as well,' he reminded Lee.

  `I didn't know I'd been asked.' He had not asked her, when he had first mentioned the trip just after he came to Polrewin. He had only suggested then that Jon should accompany him.

  `You were daydreaming,' he smiled. 'Well, what about it?' There was a quiet persistence in him that pressed her for an answer, and for a moment she felt tempted to refuse, then she looked at Jon, saw the eager expression on his face, and had not the heart to spoil his trip. It would be an outing, if nothing else, and she could observe as well as her brother. Most of all, she thought warily, she could observe Haydn, and make sure he did not drag Jon into any further grandiose schemes that could bring about the downfall of Polrewin.

  `I'll come,' she said. It was not exactly an effusive answer, but it was the only one she was prepared to give, and Haydn seemed cheerful enough when he came downstairs the following morning.

  `You've accepted my invitation to lunch as well,' he guessed, giving her a quick, comprehensive glance.

  `I'm not going to be caught out again going to the Royal Anchor in jeans and a shirt,' she retorted feelingly. Her white dress with the scarlet belt and sandals would do; it was plain enough to cope with a morning in Tarmouth, and still neat enough to enter the locally-select dining room and not feel out of place. She tried to sound matter-of-fact, but she could not still a feeling of anticipation at the expected lunch—not for the food, but to see what the chef had made of the delicacies they brought him. It would be an education to work with a man of his calibre, she thought wistfully, paying homage to a master of the art in which she herself, by comparison, was an amateur, although extremely good.

  `You'd be stealing trade secrets.' Once again Haydn had read her mind. It was becoming a disconcerting habit, she realised uncomfortably.

  `I won't,' she denied indignantly. 'Any more than Jon

  will steal secrets from you, when he comes over to the Islands.'

  `When you both come over to the Islands,' Haydn corrected her, 'or have you changed your mind?'

  `No, of course not.' Unexpectedly she found she was looking forward to the trip. She did not feel inclined to let her eagerness show in such a transparent manner as Jon, but a trip on the cabin cruiser would be a pleasant experience. The child in Lee, never quite dormant in any except the most blasé of individuals, yearned to feel the powerful cruiser under her, set free in its own element.

  `I've loaded the van for you, Miss Lee.' Ben stuck his head through the front door and called his usual good morning. 'It's ready when you are.'

  `Thanks,
Ben. We might as well go.' She turned to Haydn, and picked up her bag at the same time.

  `Er—we're a bit early, aren't we?' For the first time since she had known him, Haydn looked mildly disconcerted. `I'm waiting for a—ah, there it is.' The telephone in the hall gave an urgent summons, and he turned to the door.

  `It might be for us,' Lee checked him sharply, and he paused. `I'll take it, and see.'

  He moved aside in silence, and let her pass. He could hardly do anything else, she thought indignantly. Whatever else he might be engineering for Polrewin, he had no right to answer the telephone calls that came to the house. His casual manner of treating the place as if it was his own home left her nerve ends ragged. She picked up the receiver with set lips.

  Polrewin.' She listened for a moment, then held the receiver out to him. 'It's for you.' The fact that he had been right again galled her as much as his cool assumption that he could direct calls to the cottage. He might have asked Jon first, of course, and if he had her brother would speedily give him permission. Jon would let him do whatever he liked, in the name of friendship, Lee thought tartly, but that did not mean Haydn should be allowed to impose. She lingered inside the dining room door, wondering what the

  call was about. It had been a woman's voice on the telephone.

  `Right, thanks, Peggy. That'll be fine. Thanks for everything.' The receiver clicked back into place, and Lee turned sharply away from the door. Haydn had not bothered to lower his voice, so whoever Peggy was, it was not a particularly personal matter, but she did not want him to think she was listening, or even interested in what he was saying.