Stars of Spring

by Anne Hampson

  ‘Where is your little girl?’ asked Rosa curiously.

  ‘At the farm.’ Dom Manoel answered for Joanne, at the same time leaning over to take the empty glass from her hand. ‘I’ve arranged for her to be brought here; they’ll stay the night. Doctor Mendes will be along directly to attend the child.’

  The slow movement in Dona Rosa’s throat revealed far more to Joanna than the Portuguese girl would have wished. She spoke at length, in slow and clearly protesting tones,

  ‘Is this necessary, Manoel? Surely Mrs. Barrie would prefer to be at home, where she can care for her child in her own way?’

  ‘Mrs. Barrie isn’t in a fit condition to have full charge of her. She requires rest and quiet herself. Luisa will look to the child for tonight.’

  Joanne glanced swiftly at him, noted the firm line of his jaw, and offered no objection to the arrangements he had made for her and Glee. In fact, she was having to admit that it was a relief to be managed in this way, to lean on someone else for a change, especially someone as coolly efficient as Dom Manoel. For a moment she pictured herself alone at the farm, trying to dress Glee’s wounds, feeling sick with anxiety as to whether they were more serious than she imagined. It wasn’t as if she had any near neighbours; the village was over half a mile away, down in the hollow between two low hills. She could never have reached it, for Glee couldn’t have been left for more than a few minutes in case she came round in Joanne’s absence.

  Dom Manoel had taken the glass, and Joanne thanked him graciously, managing a rather wan little smile.

  ‘It’s most kind of you,’ she offered with genuine sincerity. ‘I’m afraid I’ve put you to a great deal of trouble—but I really didn’t blow where to turn. I’m very sorry for rushing into your house the way I did, but I was so afraid ...’

  ‘Certainly you were afraid, which is natural. Forget all about it, Mrs. Barrie. It would seem to me that you’ve had quite enough anxiety and I want you to try and relax.’ A frown darkened his brow and it was not difficult to guess at his thoughts. ‘I expect you had to carry your little girl back to the house all by yourself?’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ Joanne looked up, and the expression she encountered in Rosa’s eyes made her gasp. The girl actually hated her! But why? Bewildered, Joanne searched around for some valid reason, but before she could dwell for more than a few seconds on the question she heard voices in the hall and Dom Manoel instantly rose to his feet.

  ‘Here they come, Mrs. Barrie—but stay where you are for a while. You can’t do anything until the doctor arrives, so sit back and rest.’

  He left the room. Rosa moved languidly to the chair he had vacated, and sat down.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell him the truth?’ she asked, lifting one elegant hand to examine her finger nails. The action was calculated to give the impression of disinterest, but Joanne was not fooled.

  ‘I would have told Dom Manoel,’ she admitted, ‘but I didn’t think he’d believe me.’

  ‘Wouldn’t take your word against mine, you mean?’

  ‘So you would have denied it?’ came Joanne’s swift rejoinder. ‘I guessed as much.’

  ‘Most certainly.’ A pause and then, softly, ‘And, Mrs. Barrie, if ever you change your mind and decide to tell him what really happened, I shall still deny it.’

  ‘I see we understand one another.’ Contempt for this girl rose like a suffocating cloak around Joanne. She wondered what kind of a wife she would make to Dom Manoel. Until now Joanne had believed them to be suited, but the happenings of the past few minutes had given her cause for doubt. The frigid and pompous exterior which Dom Manoel presented to the world was obviously misleading.

  ‘Why didn’t you wait for the doctor to come? I told you I’d ring him?’

  ‘Did you ring him?’ inquired Joanne, knowing full well that Dona Rosa had thought no more about the matter.

  ‘I forgot, I must admit.’

  ‘How very strange. Were I to knock a child down it would remain on my mind for a very long while.’

  A sneer rose to the dark girl’s lips.

  ‘I’m being treated to another dose of your insolence, it seems.’

  Joanne was saved from replying as, opening the door, Dom Manoel beckoned to her.

  ‘The doctor’s here. Your daughter’s already in bed and Luisa will take you up. You may stay until the doctor goes and then you must get some rest yourself. Your room’s ready and one of the maids will bring you up a sedative when you’re in bed.’

  Rising, Joanne caught Rosa’s expression. She was staring at Dom Manoel, and appeared to be inwardly seething with anger. It was clear that she resented the attention Joanne was receiving from Dom Manoel. Was she regretting her refusal to take Glee to hospital? Joanne wondered, moving to the door. Had she done so then she, Joanne, would not be here, receiving hospitality from the man who had hitherto extended to her—at the best—a cool and rather bored civility.

  ‘You’re very kind,’ Joanne was saying half an hour later when, to her utter astonishment, Dom Manoel himself appeared at her bedside with the sedative. ‘Did the doctor speak to you about Glee?’ She herself had questioned him, but all he said was that Glee needed care for a few weeks, adding that she had been very lucky indeed not to have sustained more serious injuries.

  ‘Yes, Mrs. Barrie.’ Dom Manoel spoke abruptly, in tones that caused Joanne to eye him with rising anxiety. ‘Glee will need expert care for a long while, care which I’m quite sure you won’t be able to afford.’ He paused and Joanne frowned. Was he referring to the doctor’s fees? He must be, and her heart gave a sudden jerk as she wondered where on earth she would find the money. ‘Sit up and drink this—’

  ‘But—Dom Manoel—’

  ‘We’ll discuss the matter in the morning,’ he told her quietly. ‘Now do as I say and drink this; it’s to make you sleep.’

  ‘I don’t want to sleep,’ she quivered, her voice edged with tears. ‘I want to think!’

  ‘And that’s exactly what I intend to avoid.’ He stood over her, waiting, and she sat up.

  ‘If I could get home,’ she began, when he interrupted with a sharp, exasperated sigh.

  ‘Mrs. Barrie, why do you persist in trying my patience in this way? I’ve everything well in hand—and I do deplore fuss! Take this and let’s have no more argument for the present.’

  Her eyes met his; she expected to see the irritability of his voice reflected there, but he astonished her once again, this time by the sympathetic expression with which he regarded her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, adding, in a voice that was far from steady, ‘It must be—nerves, I suppose.’

  ‘Probably,’ he quickly agreed. ‘You’ve had a nasty shock, Mrs. Barrie, and that’s why I’m determined you shall have a long and refreshing sleep.’ She took the glass from him and swallowed the medicine. Dom Manoel watched her, nodding his approval when at last she handed him the empty glass. ‘Lie down.’ Joanne obeyed and he pulled up the covers on to her shoulders. ‘You’ll be asleep in a couple of minutes,’ he said, and after regarding her inscrutably for a second or two he quietly left the room.

  She watched him go, a strange wonderment stealing over her at the miraculous change in his whole demeanour in the face of her need—and her helplessness. He had not asked why she should have come to him; probably he took it for granted that, being her only near neighbour, he would naturally be the one to whom she would run for help. Little did he know that she had considered it his duty to help, seeing that it was his fiancée who was responsible for the plight in which Joanne had found herself.

  Joanne’s mind was becoming hazy, but through the mist she saw again Dom Manoel’s expression as he stood beside Glee’s bed. She had come round, had been made comfortable with her wounds speedily dressed and bandages applied where necessary. Still dazed, Glee had smiled wanly at everyone, including Dom Manoel, but his face was harsh in spite of the responding curve of his lips.

  Still angry at the idea of anyone’s k
nocking Glee down and then refusing to help, concluded Joanne, and wondered what he would say were he ever to discover the truth.

  ‘I must stay with her,’ Joanne had said urgently as Dom Manoel made to usher her from Glee’s room. ‘She can’t possibly be left—’

  ‘My dear Mrs. Barrie,’ he put in with a sort of bored impatience, ‘I’m well aware that she can’t be left. Luisa will remain with her until two in the morning, and then she’ll be relieved by Mafalda who, if my instructions have been carried out, is already taking a rest in preparation for her vigil.’

  She should have known, thought Joanne, hovering now on the edge of sleep, she should have known that Dom Manoel would think of everything, down to the very last detail.

  Turning, she found a cool part of the pillow and put her hot cheek against it and, as the last hazy thought drifted through her mind it was not of Glee or the accident, but of the attitude of Dom Manoel towards herself. How gently he had led her to the couch and sat her down; how quickly he had observed that she too was suffering from shock and needed a rest. And then, as if to strengthen the proof that he really was human, he had come to her room himself with the medicine. True, he had spoken sharply to her when she had talked of getting home, but then he had informed her that everything was well in hand ... well in hand ...? Joanne yawned into the pillow. What could he mean ...?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Joanne stood on the square, turreted tower, gazing dreamily out over the valley to the tiny village with its cluster of stone houses lining the cobbled street. Although it was the middle of November the air was pleasantly warm, and smelled freshly of rain. From below she heard children’s laughter; Filipa and Leonor were playing in the old nursery, the beautiful apartment which Dom Manoel had converted into a schoolroom immediately on Joanne’s taking up her appointment as English instructress to his nieces.

  A thoughtful frown creased her brow as she recalled the way she had been ‘blackmailed’ into accepting the post. She had tried to resist, but for some incomprehensible reason Dom Manoel had been determined to make her succumb to his wishes, and Joanne still did not know whether it was because he could not bear to have his will opposed or whether he had some reason of his own for wanting her to stay at the Solar de Alvares. For he could so easily have solved her problem by buying the farm and allowing her to retain the tenancy until Glee was well again and fit to be moved. Instead, he wasted no time in informing her of the way in which he ‘had everything well in hand’.

  ‘Glee requires expert medical care, and this she’ll receive from my doctor. Were you to take her back to the farm she couldn’t possibly have this care—and in any case, it would not be good for the child to be moved, even that short distance.’ He had then offered her the post, emphasizing the fact that she had no choice but to accept it.

  ‘If you would buy my farm, Dom Manoel—?’ But he shook his head, reasserting his loss of interest in it. This adamant attitude puzzled her extremely, for she felt sure he still desired to incorporate the land into the Quinta de Alvares. ‘I’ll sell it for the price of our fares home,’ she added impulsively, and Dom Manoel brought her up sharply, causing her to blush at the foolishness of that remark.

  ‘Don’t you ever think before you speak? I’ve just said it will not be good for your daughter to be moved. You can’t possibly be contemplating flying her home in this condition—? Or are you stubborn enough to go to those lengths?’

  Joanne bit her lip, and lowered her head.

  ‘No, Dom Manoel, I’m not thinking of flying Glee home yet awhile.’

  ‘Then don’t talk such nonsense about selling the farm so cheaply,’ and he added on a distinct note of anger, ‘Do you suppose I’d take it from you for such a small sum?’

  Joanne spread her hands bewilderedly. Here was an inconsistency that she was quite unable to fathom.

  ‘I can’t find a buyer, Dom Manoel; you’re fully aware of that.’

  ‘Unfortunate,’ he returned, apparently tired of the subject. ‘Very unfortunate, Mrs. Barrie, but there it is. The place is in a most dilapidated state.’ Dismissing the matter, he then went on to discuss the post he was offering to her. ‘You’ll be most comfortable here, with your own private suite. I’ll pay you a good salary—but only on condition that you agree to stay until your services are no longer required—that is, until Filipa and Leonor can go back to their mother.’

  ‘But I’m not qualified to teach English,’ she protested, and to her surprise Dom Manoel merely shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You speak the language, so what more is necessary?’

  Frowning in puzzlement, Joanne regarded him in silence. That Dom Manoel was determined to have his way there was no doubt, and Joanne finally capitulated, having no other choice, with Glee lying upstairs, bruised and grazed and suffering more badly from shock than was at first realized. She might just as well have agreed to Dom Manoel’s proposal in the first place, thought Joanne, for now she came to consider it, she would have been most reluctant to move Glee, even had Dom Manoel been more co-operative and bought the farm from her.

  ‘And you’ll promise to remain until the children go home to their mother?’ he asked when she had agreed to take the post.

  ‘Yes, I’ll stay.’

  He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, and then,

  ‘Obviously you’ll soon save the fares which you require to take you back to England, but you’ve made a promise, and I believe you’ll keep it.’

  ‘Certainly I’ll keep it,’ came the indignant rejoinder. ‘I don’t make promises with the intention of breaking them!’

  But little did she know of the difficulty she was to experience in keeping that promise.

  A cool breeze came up, stirring the flag on the tower, and Joanne went down the steps into the house proper. Glee had , been fast asleep when she had looked into her room a few minutes ago, but Joanne went past her sitting-room and along the corridor, with the intention of looking in on Glee again. To her surprise she heard voices and instinctively slackened her steps.

  Rosa! What was she doing in Glee’s room? The door was ajar; Joanne stood just outside and listened to the conversation.

  ‘A long while ago—when you first came here—I asked if you knew what kind of a car it was that hit you, and you said you hadn’t seen it. Can you think now what kind of a car it was?’

  Joanne stiffened. Glee had not mentioned anything about being questioned—but from Rosa’s words it would appear she had put the question at a time when Glee was very poorly indeed.

  ‘No, because I just ran to the side when I heard it. I think ... I think it was a blue one—No, it was a green one ... I think ...’

  ‘You don’t really know, do you, dear?’ Rosa’s voice was soft, almost gentle. Joanne felt suffocated with disgust.

  ‘No, Dona Rosa, I don’t really know.’

  ‘If someone said it was a black one, you’d definitely say it wasn’t?’

  ‘It might have been a black one—’

  ‘No, Glee, it wasn’t a black one. You’ve just said it might have been a blue one. Well, it was a blue one.’

  ‘Was it, Dona Rosa? How do you know? Did you see it?’

  A smile curved Joanne’s lips. Dona Rosa had underestimated Glee’s intelligence. Joanne just had to walk in, for she was most curious to see Rosa’s reaction to Glee’s rather clever response to her statement.

  ‘Well, Dona Rosa, did you see it?’ Joanne said when the other girl merely stood there, staring at Glee.

  Rosa flushed, but it did not take her long to recover her self-possession.

  ‘No, I didn’t see it, Mrs. Barrie, but there are several blue cars about and I thought it might be one of those.’

  ‘You’re speaking for Glee’s benefit, I take it?’ murmured Joanne, almost inaudibly.

  ‘Well, certainly not for yours,’ came the challenging retort, and, after a small pause, ‘Remember what I said, Mrs. Barrie. If ever you should change your mind —’

  ‘Y
ou’ll deny it all.’

  ‘Exactly ... and as you yourself deduced, my word would be stronger than yours.’

  ‘I haven’t the slightest doubt it would carry more weight, Dona Rosa, and for that reason you’re quite safe.’ And, her eyes roving over her in a swift, contemptuous glance, Joanne brushed past the Portuguese girl and moved across the room to the bed. ‘If you’ve quite finished questioning Glee, perhaps you’ll leave us,’ she said over her shoulder, and a sound like a hiss came from between Rosa’s even white teeth.

  ‘Your manners don’t appear to have improved with your environment,’ she said with a sneer.

  ‘Unfortunately they’re affected by the company I’m compelled to keep.’ Joanne busied herself with smoothing the pillows behind Glee’s back. Had she turned, however, she would have surprised a look of such intense hatred that she might have regretted her swift retaliation to Dona Rosa’s disparaging comment on her manners.

  The following afternoon Joanne was in the schoolroom when Dom Manoel came in with a book which he offered to lend her.

  ‘You mentioned that you’d half read it in England, and then had to leave it when you came out here. I had an idea it was in my library— and in English—so I made an effort and found it for you.’

  ‘You’re very kind.’ His action surprised her, for she had merely mentioned the matter in passing, one day when they happened to be discussing books. ‘What really happened was that the book belonged to my brother, and although I would have liked to finish it, I felt I should return it to him.’

  ‘You have a brother, then?’ Joanne nodded and he smiled. ‘Perhaps he’ll come over and visit you sometime. I’m sure you’d like a visit from him?’

  ‘Yes, I would,’ she returned, because that was the answer Dom Manoel expected of her, but Joanne reflected for a space on the complications which would arise were she to have a visit from Roger. On first hearing of the accident he had expressed a desire to come over, but as he had not mentioned it in his last letter, he had been prevented either by lack of money or by his wife who, right from the first, had exerted far too much influence over him. But Joanne had mixed feelings about his failure to come, for on his arrival Glee would instantly have referred to him as daddy and this would naturally have necessitated explanations to Dom Manoel.