Sasha stared into the fire. ‘But I don’t see why we should … deceive her like this.’
‘I’ve just told you, I know her better than you do, Sasha. You’re not the only stubborn woman in the world. This is the one way to keep her at bay.’
Sasha recalled some of the things Veronica had said to her and wondered. She said slowly, ‘I don’t know what to think.’
‘It will only involve wearing a ring and playing a part for the benefit of any company we may get. I suspect now that Veronica knows I’m home, the whole of Sydney will know soon too. And it will only be for about a month.’
‘Sometimes a month can be a very long time,’ she said quietly.
Heath raised his eyebrows ironically. ‘You’re not wrong,’ he said evenly but with an underlying note of strain, and she bit her lip as she realised just how long this month would be for him.
‘If,’ she cleared her throat, ‘if you’re very sure this is the way you want to do it?’ she asked searchingly.
‘Quite sure,’ he said dryly.
‘All… all right.’
He looked across at her anxious face from beneath half-closed lids and smiled suddenly. ‘Good girl! Thank you. But you don’t need to look as if you’re going to the gallows.’
Sasha looked down at her hands and smiled herself. A curious little smile of self-mockery. Just for a moment there, you thought the impossible had happened, didn’t you, Sasha? she told herself. When will you ever learn?
If Sasha had hoped to postpone having to explain this latest development to Edith, she found it was a forlorn hope because Heath did it for her over breakfast the next morning.
And he merely produced it as a fait accompli and watched interestedly as Edith turned a pale shade of purple and appeared to swell visibly before she jumped up and left the room with a smothered exclamation and slamming the door behind her.
Sasha sighed. ‘I knew she wouldn’t like it. But why didn’t you try to explain it to her?’
‘Why should I?’ he said broodingly. ‘She wouldn’t believe a word of it anyway. She’d still be quite convinced it was a deep dark plot to ravish the girl she looks upon as the daughter she’s never had.’
Sasha had to smile at that.
She found she wasn’t smiling, though, when she herself tried to make the explanations to Edith.
‘Oh, is that the line he spun you?’ Edith said scornfully.
‘But it’s true, Edith!’ said Sasha exasperatedly.
‘Is it? Then tell me this. What about Mr Havelock? How are you going to explain it to him? Tell me that!’
Sasha sighed. She had never quite had the courage to explain about Brent to Edith and had hoped devoutly she would never be called upon to do it. Now there seemed to be no escape from it, and she couldn’t deny it made strange telling. And when she had finished, she added despairingly and not quite truthfully, ‘I only did it because I had to think up some reason for leaving my job!’
Edith stood staring at her with a rolling pin held aloft in her hand as if she’d forgotten she was holding it. Then she lowered it to the table and said carefully, ‘Sasha, are you trying to tell me you’ve got yourself engaged to two men … both times under false pretences?’
‘I’m not actually engaged to Brent, Edith. And he knows all about it so … but you mustn’t ever tell Heath,’ she said urgently.
Edith’s lips twisted grimly. ‘Oh, I won’t,’ she said. ‘Believe me, I won’t.’ She was silent for a time. Then she turned from the pastry she was rolling with such ferocity. ‘Just keep your wits about you,’ she warned darkly, and refused to utter another word on the subject.
Doctor James chose that of all mornings to visit Heath and he was also told the news. But this time Sasha didn’t attempt the tangled explanations Heath seemed so determined to omit, and weakly accepted the good doctor’s delighted congratulations.
CHAPTER NINE
‘You don’t have to buy me a real ring, Heath,’ Sasha said crossly as they stood in a plush, discreetly lit jeweller’s store. ‘She’s not going to wrest it off me and examine it under a microscope—Veronica, I mean.’
‘I know who you mean,’ he replied impeiturbably. ‘But while I might not always be the spirit of gratitude personified, I do… appreciate what you’ve done for me.’
She closed her eyes briefly. ‘If you think I want to be paid for it, think again,’ she said shortly, and turned away from the tray of diamond rings.
‘Sasha
‘And don’t “Sasha” me either!’
‘Well, what?’ he asked, his eyes gleaming with laughter. ‘Blossom? Napoleon? Funny-face?’
‘If you dare to call me any of those names,’ she breathed, ‘I’ll run out of this shop screaming rape or something like that!’
‘Er … this is a diamond of exceptional quality,’ the formidably groomed middle-aged lady behind the counter said uncertainly as she cast Heath an odd glance. ‘It’s not large,’ she went on, gaining confidence, ‘but it’s
‘Not large!’ Sasha interrupted scornfully. ‘It’s all of two carats. You could feed a family of ten on its worth for a year! Don’t you have any of those synthetic diamonds I’ve read about?’
‘Certainly not,’ the saleslady said huffily. ‘We only deal in genuine stones. I must say,’ she added, ‘most girls would be thrilled to bits with a ring like this.’
‘I’m not most girls,’ Sasha said coldly, and turned on her heel and strode out of the shop.
Heath caught her up in a few strides.
‘I take it you’re insulted, Sasha,’ he said politely as he took hold of her arm and steered her into a milk bar. ‘Is that why you behaved so badly?’
‘Yes.’
He sat her down at a table and ordered two milk shakes.
‘But you did agree to this engagement, didn’t you?’ he said as he came back to the table with the milk shakes.
‘Yes,’ she said through her teeth. And added conversationally, ‘I must have been mad.’
‘Why?’ he asked with a faint grin that annoyed her intensely again.
She said fiercely, ‘You asked me to wear a ring. All right, I don’t so much mind wearing a ring. I just don’t want to wear the most expensive ring in town because, although I consented, I still feel an awful fraud. And furthermore, for your information, I don’t think engagement rings should be tokens of wealth. To me, that’s like taking out an insurance policy. Something to hock when it all goes wrong.’
‘You’re right, you’re not like most girls, Heath said wryly. ‘But then I always knew that,’ he added, and something in his eyes changed. ‘Almost always,’ he amended quietly. ‘But tell me, if this was the real thing what kind of ring would you lijce?’
She set her teeth and then shrugged. ‘If it was the real thing,’ she looked away and her glance fell on an object on the table, ‘this would do just as well.’ She picked up the object, an aluminium ring top from a soft drink can, and pulled off the triangular tab before she slid it on to her finger. ‘I mean, a ring is only the outward sign of a commitment, isn’t it? It doesn’t have any magical powers to make two people stay committed. That comes from within. Only problem is … you’d have to find one that fits,’ she murmured as she stared down at her hand and then lifted her head to smile ruefully at him. ‘And I don’t suppose it would fool Veronica,’ she added with a little sigh.
‘No,’ he answered meditatively, staring down at her hand. ‘But this might.’ He lifted his head and reached into his pocket to withdraw-a twist of paper that spilled on to the table a gold ring with a ruby, dark and mysteriously red, at its centre, and two baguette diamonds alongside.
Sasha caught her breath. ‘That’s … your mother’s,’ she stammered.
‘I know. Her engagement ring. I found it in the safe with a note that said she’d worn it right up until she’d married your father. She also said it was a ring only worn with great love and deep sorrow and that now it was rightfully mine from her .. . and my father.’
‘If you think I could wear that,’ Sasha said shakily, ‘well, it’s worse than the diamond.’
‘No, it’s not, Sasha. It may not be the same kind of. love you’d be wearing it with, but it’s a kind of love all the same …’ Heath broke off and grimaced wryly. ‘I didn’t mean it to sound so corny, but it happens to be true, I think. Look, I know how hard it’s been for you, how .. . boorish I’ve been, and wallowing in self-pity too, but you’ve stuck it out through thick and thin. So you wouldn’t be bringing anything false to this ring.’
She thought for a bit. ‘Only to Veronica,’ she said at last.
‘If so, only for Veronica’s own sake,’ he said on a curiously detached note. Then he looked away and added idly, ‘And you can give it back to me when it’s all over.’
Sasha sighed again and sat back. ‘I once before ruminated on this peculiar power you and your mother share,’ she said resignedly. ‘To bring a crazy logic to a thing—and I know it’s crazy really. And also to make it almost impossible to refuse either of you anything.’
He lifted his eyebrows quizzically. ‘Does that mean you’ll wear it?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘With or without your own version of a ring?’ he teased as he picked up his mother’s ring.
‘Oh! Without, I think.’ She grinned and pulled the aluminium ring off her finger. ‘But it might not fit either,’ she said anxiously, and for a moment, in her heart of hearts, wished desperately that the ruby ring wouldn’t. But Heath picked up her hand and slid it on to her finger experimentally. It fitted perfectly.
‘Like the proverbial glove,’ he said gravely, and released her hand.
She stared down at the ring on her finger and could think of nothing to say.
In some ways the month flew, despite her fears. And although Heath still refused to discuss his sight with her, certain little things seemed to indicate to her that the miracle she prayed for nightly might be occurring. Because less often did he seem curiously disorientated or cautious in his movements. And she longed to ask, but found she couldn’t.
And as Heath had predicted, Veronica did do some checking up, although indirectly. They began to get other visitors—friends of Heath who were also friends of Veronica’s, although some, weren’t.
George Smythe was one of those, not exactly a friend of Veronica’s, and it was he who alerted Sasha to what was going on. He and Sasha were sitting on the verandah and Heath had gone in to pour them a pre-lunch drink.
‘I think you’re perfect for Heath, Sasha,’ he said abruptly. ‘Though some might not agree.’
‘Oh?’ was all she could manage to say.
‘Yes. Veronica principally. In fact she’s spreading some rather nasty rumours about you and Heath.’
‘L-like what?’ she stammered.
‘That Heath is only marrying you out of gratitude because you’ve helped him through this bad patch.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘I must say,’ he went on at last, ‘for someone who claims she knows Heath as well as Veronica claims she does, I would have thought she knew him better than that.’
Sasha smiled uncomfortably.
‘Unfortunately a few of their so-called friends have taken up the cause in a manner of speaking,’ George went on. -
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, there’s a fair amount of speculation going on, Sasha. The subject of you and Heath has become what they used to call on ‘on-dit’ round the traps. And I think a lot of people—no, let’s be fair—some of those coming out to see Heath and welcome him home are also coming out to see for themselves the exact state of affairs between you two.’
‘How could they?’ Sasha burst out. ‘How could she …’ She stopped abruptly.
‘My dear Sasha,’ George replied equably, ‘surely I don’t have to remind you of that old saying—hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’
‘But …’ Sasha stared at him horrified, ‘it’s not like that,’ she said shakily.
‘Oh, but it is, Sasha,’ he said gently. ‘I just thought I’d warn you,’ he added softly as they heard Heath approaching.
George’s revelations made life very hard for Sasha. Up until now, in front of other people, she and Heath had acted almost normally, like the good friends they sometimes were, although he put his arm around her more frequently than he was in the habit of doing, and held her hand. It had seemed quite natural, but following George’s visit, Sasha couldn’t help tensing whenever she heard a car drive up, which they seemed to do with alarming frequency, and she found it almost impossible to relax in company.
She thought Heath must have noticed this too, because he seemed more tense and less affable himself as the days went by.
That the strain was equally on him didn’t occur to her until the fourth week of the vital month when he suddenly exploded after they had said goodbye to yet another visitor, this time an ex-colleague from his early journalist days.
‘I can’t stand much more of this,’ he said tightly as they watched the car drive away. ‘I haven’t seen him for a good five years.’
Sasha bit her lip. ‘It was your idea,’ she said mildly.
‘It was bloody not! Do you think I send out invitations?’ he demanded furiously.
‘I mean—for us to get engaged.’
‘Well, I miscalculated,’ he said coldly. ‘I had no idea it would precipitate this kind of interest. The place is getting like Central Railway Station! Do you know why he came?’ he asked with a gesture towards the driveway, ‘because I happen to know his sister writes a society column in some magazine. Between the two of them, they’ll probably hash up some story about us to titivate their readers. I’m only surprised he didn’t ask if he could take some photos!’ ,
The peculiar humour of the situation touched Sasha briefly. ‘Perhaps because you weren’t very nice to him?’ she suggested with a grin.
But Heath wasn’t amused. ‘Anyway, he’s the last.’ he said moodily. ‘I refuse to see another soul, and you may tell them what you like, Sasha. I don’t give a damn.’
The unfairness of this struck her rather forcibly, and she opened her mouth to protest but shut it again as an idea came to her. She looked at him.
‘Heath, we could go home,’ she said tentatively.
‘We are home,’ he said after a moment with ill-concealed impatience as if he was wondering whether she’d lost her mind.
‘No, I mean my home—across the fence. Edith gets someone in to keep it clean and aired, once a week. And nobody need know where we are. And it’s only a few days to go now.’
Heath had been in the act of stalking inside, but he checked and swung back towards her. ‘Are you serious?’ he demanded.
‘Of course. I’m not exactly enjoying … all this, either.’
‘What about Edith?’
‘I think we should leave her here to fend off our visitors. Edith’s very good at that kind of thing,’ Sasha said with a smile.
A strange expression crossed his face—a blend of quizzical amusement and something deeper which she couldn’t put her finger on.
She waited.
‘Hmm,’ he said at last. ‘Truer words you never uttered. About Edith, I mean. Very well, if you want to, we’ll go.’
Edith, however, didn’t think it a good idea at all, for some strange reason, which apparently wasn’t that she minded acting as a buffer between Heath and the public.
‘Well then, why not?’ Sasha said patiently.
‘Because he can’t hide from people for the rest of his life—if that’s the way it’s going to be. And how will you cope on your own?
‘Edith, there’ll only be the two of us. Of course I can cope!’
‘That’s what I mean,’ Edith said gloomily. ‘But I don’t suppose anything I can say will make you change your mind,’ she added with an air of pious resignation that secretly made Sasha want to laugh.
Sasha discovered it was a strange experience sharing her home with Heath. It was much smaller than the To
wnsend house, but warm and very comfortable. And for the first few days the peace and quiet and change of surroundings seemed to soothe Heath. They played chess with her father’s beautifully carved ivory chess set, read together, and because the weather had turned bitterly cold and windy in a last furious burst of winter, she exerted every fibre of her being into keeping him amused and occupied.
It never occurred to her how disastrously successful she was or how supremely thoughtless she had been in suggesting this retreat in the first place. Not until the fourth day of the fourth week, that was.
It was obvious Heath was in a strange, restless mood from the time he got up. He couldn’t seem to settle to anything, and when Sasha asked if he would like to do the crossword with her, he told her abruptly he’d rather be left alone.
She noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes indicating a sleepless night, and thought she understood. So she stayed out of his way for most of the day, pottering around doing the domestic chores. Then she washed her hair later in the afternoon and sat in front of the fire to dry it and wonder about Heath, who had shrugged on his old sheepskin coat and gone out for a walk despite the weather. ,
She was still sitting in front of the fire when he came home just before dark—and caught her breath as he stopped in the lounge doorway, because he looked so well and vital and disturbingly big after his battle with the elements. So much like the old Heath.
But as he stood in the doorway watching her, there was nothing of the old Heath in his eyes that were nearly navy blue this afternoon. Only a strange animosity that made her shiver suddenly. Then he turned away abruptly and she didn’t see him again until she set dinner on the table.
She had put on a loose ivory wool caftan with an amethyst border and taken special care with the meal and the table in a bid to coax him into a better mood.
A vain bid, however, she realised when he soon proved he wasn’t in the mood for eating or talking, and finally, after a strained ten minutes or so, pushed his plate away with half his meal untouched. But her heart went out to him as she thought of the tension he must be going though, waiting and wondering what this next consultation would bring.
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