Grace started imperceptibly. Only Crane, who was holding her arm, noticed her sudden agitation.
“It’s no use looking for him in the woods,” he said smoothly. “I think I saw the fellow as I came on to the course. He was walking towards the woods, but he turned off and headed for the railway.”
“You saw him, sir?” Rogers asked, brightening.
Crane nodded, aware that Grace was watching him. “It must have been the chap. He was carrying a large bundle under his arm. I suppose you want a description?”
Rogers had taken out his notebook and was already moistening the blunt pencil point with his tongue.
“If you please, sir,” he said.
“He was a young chap, about nineteen, I should think,” Crane said without hesitation. “Tall, dark hair, in a blue suit and brown shoes. He had on a green shirt and a black tie. He wore no hat and he had a slight limp. A pretty easy fellow to spot if you’re quick.”
“That’s so, sir,” Rogers returned, beaming. “Well, I’ll get off. Thank you, sir, very much for your help, and I apologise again for any . . .”
“That’s all right, Rogers,” Crane said, nodding. “I hope you catch the chap. He looked at West and Malcolm. “Now may we go on with our interrupted game?”
“Of course,” West said stiffly. “You’ll pay Mrs Brewer’s green fee when you come in?”
“I wouldn’t dream of forgetting,” Crane said mockingly. “Sorry you had all that run for nothing.” He touched Grace’s arm and together they walked towards the distant green, leaving West and Malcolm to stare after them.
CHAPTER TEN
“He’s unconscious,” Crane said, his fingers on Ellis’s pulse. “We’ll have to get a doctor for him at once. I’m afraid he’s pretty bad.”
Grace wrung her hands. It was all going wrong. Ellis had said, “If you get a doctor we’re sunk. You’ve got to work this out for yourself. I’d rather die than be caught.” She had tried to get rid of Crane as soon as Malcolm and West were out of sight, but he wouldn’t listen to any of her excuses. He was kind and sympathetic, but firm, and she suspected her feeble efforts to evade his questions merely amused him, although he did not show it. A direct quest trapped her into admitting that she had a companion who was ill.
“I knew it,” Crane said, smiling at her. “Don’t look so tragic. I knew you must have someone with you because you took those clothes. Then I noticed the stretcher was missing and saw the handkerchief on the tree. That’s where he is, isn’t it? In the wood?”
She nodded miserably.
“Well, cheer up. If he’s ill I may be able to help him.”
She instinctively felt that he would not give them away to the police, and besides, she did not know what else to do, so she led him to the place where she had hidden Ellis, but now he was talking about a doctor — the one person Ellis had particularly warned her against.
“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “He wouldn’t wish it. He said I wasn’t to call a doctor.”
Crane studied Ellis’s flushed face, wondered who he was and why this odd, deaf girl seemed so scared.
“He’s not in the position to choose,” he reminded her. “Don’t you understand? He’s very ill — he may die.”
She flinched. “I can’t help it,” she said stubbornly. “He wouldn’t wish it. He made me promise.” She added after a pause, “a promise is a promise.”
“But he might die,” Crane repeated patiently.
“He knew that. He said he’d rather die than be — She stopped in time, horrified she had so nearly given away their secret.
“Than be — what?”
“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter. But you mustn’t call a doctor. I can look after him. I — I won’t let him die.”
Crane remained kneeling beside the unconscious Ellis for a moment, then he shrugged, stood up.
“Who is he?” he asked abruptly.
“A friend of mine,” she returned guardedly. Feeling she should say more, she added, “he’s been good to me.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything. Who is he? What’s happened to his leg?”
“He fell. It’s broken, but I’ve set it. I think it’ll be all right.” She looked away, silent, a stubborn expression in her eyes.
Crane frowned. “I would like to help you,” he said, touching her arm so that she should know he was speaking. The touch of his fingers on the soft leather jerkin sent a little shiver of pleasure through her. It was a strange feeling that she had never before experienced and she felt blood rush to her face.
“I can help you if you’ll tell me the truth,” he went on, not appearing to notice her embarrassment. “Who are you? What are you two doing here? What sort of trouble are you in?”
She longed to tell him, to be able to share the responsibility with him, but she knew how angry Ellis would be if she did, and that he would consider she had betrayed him.
“Please leave me alone,” she burst out, her mind crawling with sudden panic. “I don’t want your help. I want to be left alone. Please go away.”
He shook his head. “Don’t get excited,” he said, smiling. “All right, I won’t ask any more questions, but I’m not leaving you. You can’t manage alone. You may think you can, but it’s not possible. If you don’t get him under cover and give him proper care, he’ll die. It looks to me like pneumonia.” His green eyes searched her face. “Would you mind if he dies?”
She nodded at once. “Oh, yes, he’s been good to me,” she said. “And I promised he wouldn’t die.”
“And a promise is a promise,” he said, teasing her. He looked again at Ellis. shouldn’t have thought he would have been good to anyone,” he went on thoughtfully. “There’s much cruelty and bitterness in that face.”
She knew how cruel and bitter Ellis could be, but that made no difference now. He had helped her when she most needed help, knowing that there would come a time when she would repay him: that time had come.
“We must get on,” Crane said abruptly. “The local inspector isn’t a simpleton. He wouldn’t have been put off with the tale I told Rogers, and he would have noticed the stretcher was missing.” He bent over Ellis, stared thoughtfully. This chap’s going to die if we’re not careful. You take the foot of the stretcher and I’ll take the head. I don’t think he’ll be too heavy for you.”
Grace hesitated. “Where are we going?”
“To my place. There’s nowhere else. At least I don’t know of any other place. Do you?”
She said, “No,” slowly.
“Well then, come on.”
Still she hesitated. What would Ellis say to her when he recovered to find himself in a stranger’s house? She cringed, remembering his sneering eyes and bitter tongue.
“There’s no other way,” Crane said gently. He was patient and kind, appearing to understand why she hesitated.
She nodded wearily, grasped the handles of the stretcher. It was heavy, but nothing seemed to matter to her now. She hadn’t succeeded in getting Ellis out of this mess, and she was crushed by her failure.
She walked down the narrow path, up a slight incline and then down through more trees. The stretcher bowed her down, but she kept on, staggering a little as she walked. She would have liked to have heard an encouraging word from Crane, and for the second time that day, her deafness swamped her with misery.
A few minutes of walking brought them out of the wood to a narrow lane. At the end of the lane she caught sight of a red tiled roof, and guessed rightly that this was Crane’s house.
She looked back inquiringly over her shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he said. “There’s no one there. Go straight on. We won’t meet anyone.”
She continued up the lane until she reached a wooden gate leading to the house. Then she set down the stretcher, aware that her arms ached and her knees were weak. She pushed open the gate as Crane came up to help her.
“The sooner we get him into the house the better,” he said, looking up and down the la
ne. “Few people come this way, but we mustn’t take chances.”
Ellis groaned suddenly, startling Crane, who glanced at him sharply. Ellis half sat up, blinked round, his hand going to his head.
Grace went to him. She supported his head and peered at him anxiously, but he didn’t seem to recognise her and a moment later his eyes closed and he dropped back.
“Let’s get him inside,” Crane said, looking worried.
They went up the twisting drive, carrying the stretcher between them. Once clear of the sheltering hedges and trees, Grace saw the house. It was a big white bungalow with a staring red roof and red-painted window-frames. There was a gayness about the building that pleased her. It stood in a garden bursting with colour and fertility, and the big lawn, stretching away to overshadowing trees, was like a billiard table.
At the front door, she paused, set the stretcher down again.
“Well, here we are,” Crane said, coming to her. “You’re safe now. No one ever comes here.”
She didn’t say anything, but waited, wondering what the next move was to be.
He took out his bunch of keys and opened the front door.
“Let’s get him inside,” he said, “and then we can see just how had he is.”
They carried Ellis into the lounge-hall which was so luxuriously furnished that Grace paused to stare round in bewilderment. Crane, moving forward, pushed the stretcher against the back of her knees, making her stagger.
She looked back at him.
“To your right,” he said. “The first door. Can you manage?”
She pulled herself together, opened the door, edged her way into a bright room full of flowers and expensive furniture. By the window was a large divan bed covered with a red and blue embroidered bedspread.
She was glad to set the stretcher down, and she stood back, rubbing her aching arms while she stared round the room. She was stupefied by its comfort and richness; it was something she imagined only existed in furniture catalogues.
“All right,” Crane said, watching her with an amused smile. “We’ll leave him for a moment and get you fixed up. Come along with me.”
“Oh, no,” she said hurriedly. “He’s ill. We mustn’t leave him.”
“Now, don’t worry. I’ll see to him. While I’m fixing him up I expect you’d like a bath. Come along and don’t argue. I’ll show you your room, and then you can look after yourself.”
Reluctantly she followed him into a room at the far end of the passage.
“Will this do?” he asked, standing aside.
She caught her breath. It was even more lavishly furnished than the other room, obviously to please a sophisticated woman.
“Do?” she repeated, staring at him. “It’s beautiful. You can’t mean it’s for me?”
“Why not?” he said carelessly. “It’s nice, but nothing out of the way. It’s yours anyway until we decide what our plans are going to be. There’s a bathroom through there. Make yourself at home.” He walked past her, opened the door of a large fitted wardrobe. “You can borrow anything in here. I think they’ll fit you, but I’m sure you won’t worry too much if they don’t.”
Scarcely believing her eyes, Grace saw the wardrobe was crammed with dresses, frocks and costumes. Without appearing to notice her astonishment he pulled open the drawers.
“There’s everything you need . . . even silk stockings. You ought to have a fine time making yourself look smart.”
“But I couldn’t . . .” Grace began, her face turning scarlet.
“You’ll like this stuff a lot better than Chrissy Taylor’s skirt,” he said, smiling, “and this time you have permission to wear them.” He turned suddenly to look out of the window. “They were my sister’s things. She’s dead. I haven’t disturbed the room. It used to be hers. There’s no point in keeping this junk. You’d better use it.”
“Oh,” Grace said, stepping back. “I — couldn’t. They’re too good for me . . . oh, no, I couldn’t . . .”
An odd expression filtered through the green eyes but was instantly gory. Although Grace only caught a glimpse of it, she was puzzled, but looking at him again she saw only the patient humorous expression in his eyes she had come to expect to see and she was reassured.
“She wouldn’t mind. You’d’ve liked her. She was always ready to help a lame dog over a stile. She would want you to have those clothes, so please don’t be stupid. I’ll leave you to have a bath and to pick something that’ll suit you. I like my guests to look nice.”
He turned to the door but she stopped him.
“But I don’t understand,” she said breathlessly. “Why are you doing this? You don’t know anything about me. Why should you do this for a stranger?”
“I like to help people,” he said casually. “Besides I think you’re in trouble. I’ve been in trouble myself and I know what it means to have help when everyone else’s hand is against you.” He laughed. “And it makes me feel very virtuous.” He ran his fingers through his straw-coloured hair. “He’s in trouble too, isn’t he? He interests me. I have a feeling he’s bad, and bad people attract me. It’s morbid, I know, but they are so much more interesting than the ordinary people one meets every day. Who is he? I wish you’d tell me.”
“I don’t know,” she confessed reluctantly. “I’ve been wondering myself who he is.”
“Well, we’ll find out,” Crane said. “Now I’ll get him into bed. You have a bath. Don’t worry about anything. When I’ve made him comfortable I’ll get you some food. I haven’t had breakfast myself yet and all this excitement has made ms: hungry.”
He went to the door, paused and looked at her intently. Again she thought there was an odd expression in his eyes, but as he was standing with his back to the light she couldn’t be sure.
“There’s a bolt on the door,” he said. “I like bolts, don’t you? They give me a feeling of security.” His face lit up with his pleasant smile and he went away, closing the door softly behind him.
Grace stood staring at the door panels, suddenly uneasy: She reached forward and quickly pushed the bolt into its socket. It slid into place quietly and she noticed that the barrel of the bolt glistened with oil.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lying in the deep sunken bath Grace ceased to think about Ellis. He slipped from her mind as easily as quicksilver slips through your fingers. Resting her head against the waterproof pillow at the head of the bath, her toes under the glittering chromium taps, she surrendered herself to a feeling of lassitude, and with closed eyes, allowed her mind to remain suspended in a vacuum of sensual pleasure.
The bathroom was small but luxurious. Apple green tiled walls were divided by a broad band of shining chromium. The floor was checkered by green and black squares, and a small green lacquered dressing-table, before which was a thick white rug, was loaded with cosmetics, perfumes and toilet accessories.
Grace had often seen such luxury on the films but the idea that she herself should have a room like this took her breath away.
Her mind was stunned by this fantastic transformation. A few hours ago she had been crouching in a damp trench in stolen clothes, wet, dirty and hunted by the police. Now she was clean, temporarily safe and in love.
She had read of people falling in love at first sight, had seen it happen often enough on the films, but she hadn’t really believed such a thing possible; but now, she realised it had happened to her.
She had said to Ellis, “No one has ever been kind to me,” and she had been grateful to him for throwing a ruined meat-pie in her face when she had been starving. She had thought that act was kindness since she had no other standard from which to judge. Then Richard Crane had come into her life. He had been kind, giving her this unbelievable luxury, offering her clothes — not soiled, cast-off, unwanted clothing people had given her in the past, but model gowns and fashionable dresses — the kind you saw in the windows of exclusive West End shops. He had saved her from the police, taken her into his home without forcing her to
tell him who she was, and had been kind about her deafness.
At first, she had been suspicious of this kindness, but now she was free of panic and could think clearly, she began to wonder if he too hadn’t fallen in love with her as she with him. Was that the explanation of his generosity and obvious desire to protect her? she asked herself. Surely no man would risk so much for a girl about whom he knew nothing unless he had fallen in love with her?
Like most uneducated, lower-class girls Grace was essentially a romantic. She devoured paper novelettes, and in her dreams lived the roles of her favourite film stars, imagining that some day a Prince Charming would discover her and whisk her away from poverty to a life of love, happiness and wealth.
Since she had lost her hearing she had known instinctively that her chances of having a husband and a home were even more remote. But now her hopes flared up and against her better judgement — for, in spite of her romantic dreams, Grace was practical and no fool — she decided it was just possible that Crane had fallen in love with her.
She wasn’t beautiful, she told herself, but perhaps he didn’t think beauty was necessary. Perhaps he had seen at once that she would do anything to please him, would keep this lovely place of his perfectly, would be loyal and true to him until she died. Tears came into her eyes when she thought of dying, of leaving him, old and lonely, to look after himself.
She sighed, closed her eyes, and for a time her mind swam in a treacly sea of romantic sentimentality.
Then abruptly she remembered her responsibilities. She couldn’t lie in the bath day-dreaming like this while Richard — she thought of him as Richard now — was nursing Ellis. Her place was at his side.
She scrambled out of the bath, dried herself hurriedly and although she wished to be with him immediately, she could not resist pausing to powder herself with the huge puff on the dressing-table.
Naked, the yellow ball of swan’s down in her hand, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Even to her critical eyes she admitted that her body was pleasing, and she had a sudden, wild, unbridled desire to offer herself to Crane as a token of her love and gratitude. But the moment the idea had crossed her mind she shied away from it. The beatings she had received from her foster-father had left scars on her mind. He had flogged into her the knowledge that her mother was bad and had given herself to any man who fancied her. Grace had accepted his doctrine that there was no worse sin a woman could commit and that no decent man would respect her if she did yield to him.
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