That Man Next Door

by Lucy Gillen

  She could just distinguish the shadowy little figure of Lee up on the sea wall as she hastily slipped off her shoes and paddled through the swirling water, the oncoming tide reaching much further to her knees than she anticipated, and she clenched her teeth on the stark coldness of it.

  "Kim !" She heard Lee's cry of surprise as her foot caught on a polished stone, hidden under the sand and water, and she was sent sprawling full length.

  Her own cry, she thought, would not have been heard by anyone but Lee and she sought to reassure him as she shook the salt water from her eyes and struggled to her feet. "Lee," she called, "I'm all right, don't be —" the rest of her words were snatched away as another wave came in, bigger than the others and swept her off her feet again while she was still unsteady.

  She felt herself buffeted against the hardness of the cliff and sought to get her breath to call and reassure Lee again. She managed to get to her feet after a moment or two and clung to one of the rocks, soaked through and shivering uncontrollably.

  "Lee !" She looked up on to the sea wall where he had stood and could see no sign of him. "Lee!"

  Her voice echoed chillingly from the cliff face and she tried to stop her teeth from chattering as she moved, cautiously, through the advancing tide to the sea wall, finding it far more difficult than she feared, though she clung on grimly.

  It was almost completely dark now and she could see no

  other living soul along the promenade, only the lights from Linwood, warm and inviting, shone down the drive from the house, and she turned towards them instinctively.

  She realised, as she squelched her way along the gravel, that she had lost her shoes during her ducking, and that she must look like some weird creature from the deep dripping water as she walked, her clothes clinging wetly and her hair like tangled seaweed flopping over her face.

  She rang the bell and it seemed like an eternity before anyone came, then, before she could say a word, she was suddenly whirling round and round as if she was a spinning top and everything went black.

  She opened her eyes to see George's anxious face looking at her and Fay brushing him aside as she came and bent over her, smiling reassuringly. "Kim !" Her voice sounded oddly distant at first and then Kim's head cleared and she tried to smile.

  "I'm horribly wet," she stated.

  "What on earth happened to you?" It was George's voice, unusually serious and edged with anxiety. "You surely didn't jump in fully clothed, did you, darling ?"

  "Of course she didn't," Fay retorted. "And don't start questioning the poor girl yet, she isn't up to it."

  Kim struggled to sit up. "I'm all right, really, Fay." "You're sure?" Fay's eyes were curious, but she did not ask questions.

  "I'm all right," Kim insisted, "and I'm sorry to have made such a mess, Fay." She looked at the water all over the carpet and the damp patches on the settee where she had been laid. "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't worry about it," Fay told her. "We weren't concerned about the mess, only with what had happened to you." She thrust a steaming cup into her hands. "Here, drink this, as hot as you can, it'll help."

  Kim sniffed the fragrant brew curiously. "What is it?"

  "A drop of the hard stuff," George informed her, before Fay could reply. "Drink it up like a good girl, it'll do you good and get rid of the shivers."

  Kim shrugged her shoulders, noticing that her wet coat had been removed and she was wrapped in a brightly coloured blanket. "I was frozen," she admitted. "The water was icy."

  "Which makes it all the more odd for you to go for a clip in your clothes," George said, despite Fay's discouraging frown. "What were you up to, my sweet?"

  Kim raised wide eyes suddenly, remembering Lee, and feeling horribly guilty because she had almost forgotten him. "Oh no, I'd forgotten! How awful of me. You haven't spotted Lee Fleming anywhere have you?"

  "One of James' brood?" George eyed her curiously. "No, why ?"

  "He wandered off and I came out to find him," Kim explained. "I found him in the little cove below the cliffs. Luckily my first guess was right or he'd have been cut off by the tide, poor little soul."

  "But where is he?" Fay looked concerned and Kim shook her head.

  "He's O.K. I left him on the sea wall and went back to look for his boat, the tide washed me off my feet and he was gone when I managed to climb out again."

  "He didn't come here," Fay told her, obviously worried.

  "Oh, I shouldn't worry about him," George remarked cheerfully. "The callous little wretch has probably gone home and forgotten all about you by now."

  "Oh no, he wouldn't," Kim protested, wondering how true it was. "I expect he was frightened and he ran home, but he'd tell James, he wouldn't forget all about me."

  George arched doubtful brows, smiling at her insistence.

  "Oh, they're real little angels, according to you," he told her.

  "They're nice children," Kim insisted, feeling a glow from the brandy-spliced coffee. "You're as bad as James."

  "Much worse," George averred with a wicked grin, and Kim wondered, irrelevantly, why both he and James insisted on claiming wickedness as a virtue.

  "I wish you wouldn't try to — to out-villain James Fleming," she told him. "I'm sure you wouldn't be as harsh as he is if you had them."

  "Heaven forbid the situation ever arises," George declared, horrified, "I'd leap off the sea wall in desperation."

  "Oh, George ! " She felt worried anew about Lee, and rather tearful, probably from a combination of brandy and reaction to her ducking.

  "I'm sorry, my sweet." He came over and took her hands in his, raising her fingers to his lips. "I shouldn't tease you when you're worried. Shall I put your mind at rest and ring James to see if the little monster has gone home under his own steam?"

  "Oh, would you, please, George?" Kim looked at him appealingly. "For one thing James will be worried by now if he isn't home, and I promised to bring him back."

  George smiled wryly. "Then I'd better set everyone's mind at rest and find out," he told her, and turned away with the intention of ringing James Fleming.

  "Oh, George !" Kim called as he reached the door. "I —I don't want to be a nuisance, but Aunt Bess will be wondering why I haven't come home yet, could you —"

  George nodded. "O.K., darling, I'll ring her first." "Thank you, George."

  He grinned at her slowly. "I adore you," he told her, "and I'm prepared to do anything for you, you name it and I'll do it, my sweet, there's only one thing." Kim looked

  uncertain, half smiling, unsure if he was serious. "You think more of James' monsters than you do of me, I'm quite sure you do, and I should be madly jealous."

  Kim smiled, looking childishly appealing and slightly unreal, with strands of wet hair clinging to her head, its usual fair colour darkened and tossed wildly, tangling about her face, her skin still shiny from the cold sea water. Her eyes were big and brightly glowing with the effects of the brandy and the tears that still hovered not too far behind her smile.

  "You have no cause to be jealous of anyone," she told him lightly. "Bless you, George."

  "Ah ! " He wrinkled his nose at her delightedly. "You look beautiful, weird but beautiful, like some fabulous creature from twenty thousand fathoms." He turned his head sharply as the telephone rang in the hall. "Hello, somebody beat me to it — now who can that be, I wonder?"

  They heard him answer, both of them listening unashamedly, then a listening silence for a second or two. "Whoa!" he told whoever was at the other end of the-line. "Don't panic, old boy, hold your horses."

  He listened again for a moment, while Fay looked at Kim curiously, a frown between her brows, her lips forming the words, "Who is it?" and Kim shook her head, although she had a strange sense of certainty who it was.

  "She's here with Fay and me," George said next. "Wet and miserable and just about conscious, but she's here."

  Kim looked startled, flicking an uneasy glance at Fay, wondering why George had seen fit to make it soun
d as if she was much worse hurt than she was. "Now don't panic," he insisted. "You can't do anything if you come and I don't want a one-legged man on my hands as well. I've told you she's O.K., in fact I've just been saying she looks like a rather gorgeous creature from the deep." Another pause.

  "I'll bring her home, right now. If you'll let her auntie know via your Mrs. Whatsit, she won't have the flutters when we arrive. Thanks, old boy."

  "James !" Fay confirmed Kim's own certainty and her eyes were questioning when she looked at her.

  "I imagine so," Kim agreed noncommittally.

  "I wonder why he rang here," Fay mused, still speculating, it was obvious, "unless he thought you'd brought Lee here first."

  "Perhaps Lee went home and — and maybe he told him some exaggerated tale about my ducking," Kim suggested, not meeting her eyes, and Fay nodded.

  "Most likely," she agreed. "We'll soon know."

  "It was poor old James going slightly berserk," George announced a few seconds later, and with evident satisfaction, "because he thought Kim had perished in the deep."

  "And you made it sound as if I had," Kim accused.

  George smiled blandly. "I don't think I did, darling, but it was his monster's fault you went into the drink, he should do some of the worrying, it's only fair."

  Kim felt a retort on her lips but bit it back hastily when she caught Fay's gaze on her again, curious and speculative. "I'm glad Lee went home, anyway," she said.

  "Oh, he went home," George assured her with a grin, "hence James' panic stations. He told James you was drownded, and you can imagine the state poor old James was in after that, him being more or less helpless and all. The mood he's in now, that infant probably won't sit down for a week."

  "If he —" Kim began, but George shook his head at her. "Oh, you can't blame him, darling, be fair."

  "What — what made him ring here?" Kim asked, curious despite her fears for Lee.

  George shrugged. "Where else ?" he asked. "He wanted

  me to go down and find you, see what had happened and break it to him gently. He was even coming down here himself to look for you until I told him you were all in one piece."

  he spanks Lee," Kim said darkly, trying to ignore the concern for her own safety, "I'll — I'll hit him ! "

  George eyed her for a moment, his own gaze mock apprehensive. "I believe you would too," he declared. "I hadn't realised just what a little militant you are, my darling. I'd better give James the tip in case you set about him. Forewarned is forearmed."

  "It was because he smacked Lee this morning," Kim told him, "that he ran away."

  "Quite frankly, Kim," Fay's quiet voice intervened before George could answer, "I think that little boy needs firm handling, and I'm quite sure James isn't as bad as you make him out to be. Have you ever seen him smack the children?"

  Kim shook her head, reluctantly honest. "No," she admitted, "but — but he's always so horrid about them and he's always threatening to beat them, especially Lee."

  Fay smiled wryly, glancing at her brother as she spoke. "Like someone else I know," she told Kim, "I rather think James is more talk than action."

  George looked affronted at the accusation and demanded an explanation. "I know you're sniping at me," he told Fay, "and I want to know why, in fact I demand to know why."

  "Oh, you know very well why," Fay retorted, smiling, and winked an eye at Kim.

  "No, I don't," George declared, his expression as innocent as a child's. "Do you know what I'm being accused of, Kim?"

  Kim shook her head. "I — I don't know," she said warily,

  wishing Fay had not chosen this particular time to raise the subject that had been bothering her. She glanced hastily at the mantel clock. "I — I think I should go, Fay. Aunt Bess will be expecting me."

  "Yes, of course." Fay got to her feet, not pursuing the subject, much to Kim's relief. "George will run you home in the car."

  "My pleasure," George assured her. "Keep that blanket on and you won't get cold. Come on, my beautiful mermaid."

  It took only a minute or two to drive along the sea wall to Summer House and Kim wondered what state her aunt was in if James Fleming had relayed his impression of her accident to her. Aunt Bess was inclined to fuss at the best of times, and thinking Kim half-drowned she would probably be in a near panic.

  There were lights showing in both houses and Kim objected when George insisted on carrying her into the house as if she was incapable of walking. "George, put me down, please," she insisted. "I can walk quite well on my own."

  "Oh, but you make such a gorgeous body," George told her outrageously, "it seems a pity not to make the most of it, and —" his eyes looked down at her wickedly, "just think what a treat it'll be for the neighbours !"

  The neighbours, Kim realised as he carried her into the front garden of Summer House, included James Fleming, and she heard the front door of Covely being opened at the same time as Aunt Bess admitted them, twittering anxiously.

  Either George did not notice the neighbouring door open, or he decided to ignore it, for he gave no sign, but carried her straight into the house and deposited her on the settee in her aunt's sitting-room.

  "Oh, you poor dear !" Aunt Bess exclaimed, seeing her

  tangled hair and the scratches and bruises on her arms and legs where the rocks had left their mark. "What on earth happened to you?"

  "She's had a rather nasty ducking," George informed her aunt, as if he knew all about the incident first hand, "but she's not badly hurt, Mrs. Keeler." He stood looking down at Kim, a smile on his face that puzzled her. "The sooner we're married and I can take her firmly in hand," he declared, blithely uncaring of the effect of his words, "the better for everybody."

  "Married — oh, oh yes, of course." Aunt Bess did not know whether to look surprised or pleased and succeeded only in looking vaguely outraged as she stared at him, while Kim shivered suddenly even in the warmth of the blanket, her hands curled into her palms as she recalled the last few moments before she left Covely to look for Lee.

  It was high time, she thought wildly as she remembered the way James had kissed her, that she settled things with George once and for all — one way or another.

  CHAPTER IX

  FEELING perfectly capable of working next morning, Kim got up with the idea of carrying on as usual and going next door to help James. She was, it was true, slightly stiff and there were bruises on her arms and legs, also a faint one on her right cheek, but otherwise she felt none the worse for her ducking. Aunt Bess, however had other ideas, and she objected most strongly when Kim appeared at breakfast ready for work.

  "Mr. Daley would be very angry if he knew," she warned, as if that would be the ultimate deterrent, and Kim shook her head, smiling.

  "George doesn't know how to be very angry," she told her aunt. "He'd leave it entirely to me, he knows I've enough sense not to do anything silly like working when I'm not up to it."

  "You were silly enough to go back for that child's toy when you knew you'd very likely be cut off by the tide," Aunt Bess retorted, with uncharacteristic sharpness. "And if you insist on being foolhardy, Kim, I shall ring Mr. Daley and tell him. He is your boss, after all."

  Kim laughed, unable to resist the faintly shocked expression she knew it would cause. "If you ring George, Aunt Bess, I shall tell him myself what I intend to do and you'll see, he's far less worried than you think and he's, quite unlikely to be angry. He's not James, you know."

  Why she had made that comparison, she had no idea, and she saw her aunt's eyes narrow speculatively when she looked at her. Lately she had been far less friendly towards James Fleming, it seemed to Kim. "You think Mr.

  Fleming will be angry?" she asked, and Kim nodded, wishing already that she had not brought James into it.

  "He's the bad-tempered one, not George," she declared, seeking to deter any further speculation. "I've no doubt he'll be very sarcastic about women who go back to fetch toy boats when it's obvious they'll be caught by the
tide. It'll be an opportunity he'll find too good to miss."

  Convinced as she had been that he would be only scornful of her stupidity, she was surprised to see that it was neither scorn nor anger she saw in James' eyes when she walked into the room, but some expression that made her hastily lower her own gaze and catch her breath as her pulse began to race, erratically uneven.

  He was on his feet when she came in and not sitting on the settee as she had expected, and she felt it would have been easier to face him if she had not been made so conscious of his height and her own feeling of vulnerability. His back was to the window, but even with the light behind him, the pale grey eyes were just as disconcerting. She noticed too that this morning he was using a stick to help him stand, as if he had every intention of staying on his feet.

  "Good morning."

  He did not immediately answer, but studied her for a moment in silence, a nerve-racking silence that Kim found hard to bear. "How're you feeling?" He did not bother to return her formal greeting.

  "I'm quite all right, thank you."

  His eyes went unerringly to the faint mark on her face and he frowned. "You've bruised your face." It might have been a hideous disfigurement from his tone, and she half-smiled, one finger touching lightly on the faint dark mark.

  "I'll live," she told him, "and it's not a very bad bruise."

  He left his place by the window then and clumped heavily

  across the room, far less clumsy in the plaster than he had been a week ago. He came and stood in front of her, and started that erratic, uneasy heartbeat again. "Do you feel like facing a day's work?"

  "Yes, of course." She raised her eyes, but almost immediately lowered them again. "I feel fine and — and anyway, today is my last day here, isn't it?"

  "Is it? I don't know how long George committed you for — anyway, Miss Norton will be back next week."