by Lucy Gillen
Kim shivered, flicking a brief glance downwards at the glitter of the sea below. It looked shiny and beautiful, but also cruel and relentless as it frothed and foamed against the rocks that sprawled like broken teeth across the sand and into the water. "How much further?" she asked.
"Nearly there." He sounded cheerful and completely unaware of her reaction, and not in the least out of breath. "Whew ! Here we are."
He literally hauled her up the last couple of steps and she found herself on a ledge which was, to her relief, much wider than it had appeared from below. It was perhaps seven or eight feet from the backing cliff to the edge of the jutting shelf and sat atop the solidity of nearly two hundred feet of rock, so there was little fear of it crumbling. The only threat as far as Kim could see, came from the over-
hang, which hung like a frown some ten feet above their heads.
"Well?" He was looking at her expectantly as they stood about three feet from the edge, looking out across the bright, sparkling expanse of the sea, and Kim found it difficult to put into words what she felt as she absorbed the sheer grandeur of it.
There was something almost unreal about the heady, heart-stopping vastness of the view. It was like being above the whole world, with no sight or sound to remind one of the mundane things of earth, just a seemingly endless expanse of glittering movement, with not even a ship in sight on the horizon to break the illusion and only the shrill ' voices of gulls and the slight moaning sound of the wind disturbing the quiet. Even the sound of the sea was dimmed by distance to a mere whispering sssh!
After the first few apprehensive seconds when she felt her stomach muscles tighten, Kim felt a lift in her heart, an inexplicable feeling of elation that sang through her veins like a song of triumph. She felt that if she just spread her arms wide, she could soar out over the bright water as easily as the gulls did. It was a dizzying sensation and one which she had never experienced before.
"It's wonderful!" she breathed, her eyes on the hazy glitter of the horizon. "I feel as if I could — as if I could fly
She moved, almost unconsciously, nearer the edge and breathed in the sheer magic of it, unaware of how far she had gone until she heard his gasp of warning and felt the sudden tightness of his hands about her waist, pulling her back against him. She made no move for a moment, aware of the fast, unsteady beat of his heart as well as her own.
"For God's sake be careful!" he whispered.
There was an unaccustomed harshness in his voice and
his fingers dug into her with bruising strength, a grip he made no attempt to ease even after she was safely away from the edge. The heady, blithe intoxication of the height still stirred in her and she turned her head, locking at him over one shoulder, her body relaxed against him, her eyes a dark and sparkling blue.
"What are you afraid of ?" she asked, scarcely recognising the slightly husky, almost flirtatious voice as her own.
The light grey eyes were closer than they had ever been, the tiny lines at their corners exaggerated by the glitter of the sun on the sea, and he looked at her steadily for a moment, then swiftly and unexpectedly half turned her towards him. He still held her tight enough to hurt and his mouth came down hard over hers, setting her head spinning dizzily.
"James ! " She began to regain her senses at last and twisted away from him, her eyes dark and uncertain, breathing heavily as she leaned against the supporting rock, well away from that intoxicating view.
For a moment or two he looked at her, his breathing as erratic as her own, his dark hair dishevelled from the climb and the unceasing wind off the sea, and there was something unnerving in the way he regarded her. Then suddenly, it was as if some spell had been broken and he laughed, a deep, disturbing sound that held a hint of his usual mockery.
"That's quite a view," he teased. "I knew it was heady up here in the clouds, but I never realised quite how potent it was."
CHAPTER V
KIM had to admit that she had quite forgotten the promise she had made to the Fleming children, that she would take them out one day. She had promised only Terry and Lee, but Ronnie would have been informed of the prospective outing by the other two and children have very long memories, something Kim was unaware of, in her innocence of ' the ways of children. Apart from anything else, she had had rather a lot on her mind lately, and felt she could be forgiven for letting it slip her mind.
It was Ronnie who reminded her that he was due back to school in a few days' time, and Kim realised that he wanted to make sure that he was not left out of things. "I haven't forgotten, Ronnie," she told him with a smile, when he mentioned it. "I may try and take you next Sunday, O.K.?"
"O.K.," Ronnie nodded his satisfaction.
What he omitted to do, if it ever entered his head, was to remind her that the following Sunday was also the day of the boat race, and when Kim spoke to James Fleming about their proposed outing, he eyed her askance for a moment, until she wondered what breach of etiquette she had been guilty of.
"Have you forgotten it's the day of the race?" he asked.
Kim blinked for a moment, then shook her head over her own forgetfulness. "I had forgotten," she confessed, "but it needn't make that much difference, need it? Surely the whole coast doesn't come to a standstill for a boat race, does it?"
He smiled wryly at her, suspecting sarcasm, and perhaps an effort to belittle the importance of the event he set so much store by. When he hoped once more to reap what George termed his five minutes of glory.
"I'm afraid so," he told her. "Well, almost anyway. It's quite an event,, you know, despite your low opinion. Besides," he added, before she could protest, "I thought you were interested enough to watch. You said you were."
"I did," she agreed, "and I am to a certain extent, but I still don't see why I can't take the children out that day as well. I think Ronnie suspects he'll miss something, so he wants to go before he has to go back to school."
"You're probably right," he allowed with a grin. "He hates to miss anything "
"Anyway I'm sure they'd love to watch the race. Unless," Kim added hastily, "you'd rather not entrust them to me."
He grinned at that, obviously finding the prospect amusing. "It's more like a case of entrusting you to them," he informed her, "but if you're brave enough to volunteer, then I'll willingly let you take them and be grateful." He eyed her for a second, then arched a brow in query. "I rather thought George might be taking you to watch," he said, "but on your own head be ft. I only hope you realise what you're taking on — they're a bit of a handful en masse, you know."
"I can manage them," Kim told him, with far more assurance than she felt, though he must not know that.
"Then I'll tell Mrs. Pannet she can breathe freely, for the afternoon," he told her with a grin. "I only hope you won't regret it."
"Of course I won't regret it," she retorted. "You always make them sound so much worse than they are, and I can't think why. I like them."
A grin suddenly spread across his face and he eyed her
wickedly. "I only hope George isn't expecting to have your exclusive company that afternoon," he told her. "I tremble to think what he'll say if he gets landed with the monsters. He's not exactly the fatherly type, is he?" The idea seemed to amuse him intensely and he laughed in a way that Kim could only describe as malicious. "Oh dear, poor old George!"
"I don't know that I'm seeing George," Kim told him, "and I'm certain he wouldn't mind if I do see him. Also," she added, unable to resist it, "if it comes to the point, you're not exactly the fatherly type either, are you?"
For a moment he regarded her in silent amusement, then shook his head. "If you say so," he agreed, "but I haven't done too badly up to now."
It was something she could not argue with, for despite her own accusations that he did not care for the children enough, they seemed to adore him and willingly complied with the rather bohemian existence he subjected them to.
Whether or not George was prepared to have the company of th
e three children as well as herself, she soon discovered, for she mentioned it to him that same afternoon. His expression, if not exactly dismayed, was not enthusiastic either.
"I thought you'd agreed to come with me," he told her.
"I hadn't," Kim argued with a wry smile, "for the simple reason that you didn't ask me."
He looked at her uncertainly. "I'm sure I did," he said. "I meant to, anyway, and I thought you knew that — are you sure I didn't mention it?"
Kim shook her head. "You mentioned that you thought you'd arranged to see the race from somewhere or other," she told him, "and that's the last I heard of it."
"Oh — well, I'm sorry I didn't make it plainer, but I quite thought you understood, of course I expected you to
come with me." He eyed her for a moment doubtfully. "Aren't you taking on rather a lot, my sweet? There are three of them, and after all you're not trained to cope with monsters, are you?"
"They're not monsters," Kim declared indignantly. "They're three small children who miss their parents, and James Fleming isn't exactly the ideal substitute. Of course I can cope with them. You're as bad as he is !"
George looked vaguely surprised at her vehemence and Kim thought how hopeless it was to expect a man to understand such matters. "I just thought —" he ventured, but Kim cut him short.
"I can manage perfectly well, George, so don't worry."
"I expect you can, my sweet," he told her, "and I'm not exactly worrying, but I would like to have had you to myself on Sunday afternoon. It seems such a waste to expend a beautiful girl and a Sunday afternoon on a crew of urchins, and I'm not sure that James didn't know what he was up to."
Sunday proved to be a bright hot day, ideal for the race, apparently, and Kim found herself quite looking forward to playing foster-mother for the afternoon, although there would, she realised, probably be snags she had not even ·dreamed of.
It had transpired that George had arranged to meet a group of friends, including his cousin Eve Mellors, at a small inn near the finishing point. The place was situated right on the top of a cliff and gave a magnificent view of quite a bit of the course, but there was almost no garden where Kim could take the children, so she had been obliged to refuse the invitation extended by a hopeful George.
"I'm bitterly disappointed," he told her, "but I suppose there's not much else for it, is there? What will you do?"
"Oh, don't you worry about us," Kim assured him, "we'll find somewhere round the bay to watch from."
George looked vaguely uneasy for a minute, then he took her hand and kissed her fingers. "I love you, my sweet, but I could wish that you weren't quite such a little do-gooder."
The designation made Kim a little uneasy, and she wondered if James Fleming shared George's view of her motives. It seemed there was much to be done before the race actually started, and the three children, with their uncle, were on the doorstep of Summer House rather earlier than Kim expected them, but she refused to be put out and invited the children in to wait for her.
Ronnie and Lee looked unbelievably angelic in blue shorts and shirts, their tow-coloured heads brushed meticulously neat and their faces rosy from scrubbing. Obviously they had been well scrubbed and ordered to be on their very best behaviour, for they looked round-eyed and a little overawed as they sat down obediently on Aunt Bess's settee, with Terry between them, just as neat and clean.
"Now mind your manners and don't get running off on your own," their uncle warned them, towering over them as they sat meekly still, and three fair heads bobbed agreement.
"They'll be quite all right with Kim," Aunt Bess assured him with touching faith in her niece's ability. "She likes children."
"She must do," he retorted with a grin for Kim's flush of embarrassment. "Anyway — thanks for having them, Kim, and don't hesitate to tan any backsliders. You have my full permission."
"I shan't do any smacking at all," Kim told him indignantly. "I'm sure they'll be as good as gold, all of them."
He grinned, shaking his head over her confidence. "Have
it your way," he allowed, "but don't say I didn't warn you, that's all!"
The three children bade him a solemn good-bye a few minutes later and Kim was faced with them for the first time, entirely alone.
It was a responsibility that weighed rather more heavily than she had expected, but she could not let the children know that. They were all quite excited at the prospect of something new and Kim hoped she would prove capable of providing enough distractions to keep them amused.
There were quite a number of attractive little coves round the coast, several of them just round the cliffs from the bay, and, as she had never yet visited them herself either, Kim thought it a good idea to make the most of her chances.
Nearest, and therefore most accessible, was one just at the end of the bay, nearest George's house. There was plenty of room to walk around the end of the sheltering rocks and she carefully helped them down on to the sand from the sea wall. It shifted warmly under their feet and felt faintly damp, but the children loved it and squealed their delight at the sight of the sheltered little beach just round the corner.
The tide was out and there was quite a wide expanse of beach, sloping steeply down to the water. Backing the cove was the tall, grey wall of the cliff and smaller rocks scattered across the sand almost as far as the water.
The rocks offered exciting climbing ground, she realised, but she eyed them a little doubtfully at first. It would never do to hand the children back to their uncle with cuts and bruises, so she must be quite firm about climbing on the rocks. He would no doubt attribute anything that happened to them to her negligence and inexperience, and in view of her criticism of him in that direction, she could not afford to give him cause for complaint.
The sun had warmed the sand and made it comfortable enough seating without extra protection, so that Kim sat down quite happily with her back to one of the smoother rocks for support, glad of her sunglasses against the glare of the sun on the water.
Ronnie and Lee played innumerable and noisy games, getting shrilly impatient with Terry, so that eventually the little girl came and sat beside Kim and they built simple sand castles which Terry knocked down with squeals of glee as soon as they were finished.
The boys had been engaged for some time in some rather noisy game of pirates, over by the cliff face, and Kim had become so engrossed in placing decorative shells on the castles she and Terry had built that she lost track of the time. It was when she suddenly became aware of an unaccustomed quietness that she turned her head to look over her shoulder.
She had heard it said once that when children were quiet it was time to grow suspicious and start worrying, and it would, she thought, apply particularly to boys since their games were usually so much noisier.
"Ronnie ! Lee !" she called to them both across the wide sweep of sand and rock that formed their playground, but could see only one of them.
Only Ronnie stood by the foot of the cliff, peering into a crevice in the rock, but of Lee there was no sign, and she got hastily to her feet, with Terry wide-eyed beside her. Ronnie looked round as she approached, a half guilty, half apprehensive look on his face that did nothing to reassure Kim. Obviously something was amiss and he was reluctant for her to know about it, that was how she read it.
"Hello," he ventured when she came up.
There was still no sign of Lee. He could have been hiding behind one of the rocks, of course, waiting to jump out at
her when she went looking for him, and she fervently hoped he was.
"Lee!" she called out, not too sternly as yet, for he might only be playing with her, but no one answered, and Ronnie still had that guilty, hangdog air about him that worried her. She felt her stomach muscles contract coldly as she put a hand on Ronnie's shoulder and made him look at her. "Where's Lee?" she asked. "Where is he, Ronnie?"
"Oh, he's all right," Ronnie assured her with an uneasy grin. "He's gone after Captain Blood, he's the leader of
the pirates, you know."
"Never mind Captain Blood," Kim told him, trying to sound firm and authoritative and wishing her voice would not tremble so much. "Where's your brother?"
"I told you —" Ronnie began, but stopped hastily when Kim shook the shoulder she held. The alarm she felt already showed in her eyes as she sought the truth from an obviously reluctant informant.
"I know what you told me," she interrupted, "but where has Lee gone?"
The small, round, sun-flushed face looked almost sulky and he lowered his eyes. "He went after Captain Blood," he repeated stubbornly.
told you to forget Captain Blood," Kim scolded, shaking him again. "Is Lee hiding behind one of the rocks?"
"Sort of." The answer was scarcely reassuring and she thought her own apprehension was beginning to worry Terry, who watched her wide-eyed, and with a finger doubtfully curled against her mouth.
Kim breathed deeply, all James Fleming's warnings about being able to cope coming to mind, but how could she have anticipated such obstinacy in a six-year-old? That was what bothered her as much as anything, she admitted
to herself, the way James would be able to crow over her if anything had happened to Lee. A situation like this, she supposed, was where expertise would tell. She should have been able to anticipate and counteract, and patience was obviously a very necessary requisite. Hers was already beginning to fray.
"Ronnie," she said slowly, "please tell me exactly where Lee went to and how long ago he went."
"Not long," Ronnie obliged, not very helpfully, that stubborn look still on his face.
Kim drew a deep breath, determinedly patient. "Where," she asked, "is Captain Blood hiding ?"
He hesitated a moment longer, deciding whether she was on their side or not, Kim thought desperately, then he pointed a finger at the narrow crevice facing him, a crevice that split the rock from ground level to some eight or ten feet up, and nowhere wider than twelve inches across.