by Sara Seale
“You do it on purpose for the fun of it—just the same way you enjoyed tearing strips off me that day in court,” she said, and he was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
“Oh, come now! I don’t enjoy the mishandling of a fine piece of machinery. It sets my teeth on edge,” he protested, ignoring her accusation.
“Then why insist that I drive the beastly thing when you know very well I’m inexperienced?”
“I merely thought it would give you pleasure. Tell me, Victoria, is all this sudden antagonism a result of yesterday’s charming little interlude?”
She sat very still beside him, blinking back the tears which already shamed her. She wanted to dismiss that episode as casually as he seemed to regard it and hurt him if she could for supposing that it might have meant anything more to her, but he unexpectedly cupped her averted chin in gentle fingers, turning her round to face him, and she remembered only the pleasure of his touch and Kate’s overheard words as she came down the stairs.
“Dear Victoria Mary, don’t turn me into an ogre just to satisfy your belief that there must be a villain in every self-respecting fairy-story,” he said softly, and she smiled a little tremulously.
“I suppose Kate told you that.”
“Oh yes, among other things. I suppose I should feel flattered that I unknowingly shared the honours with Mr. Brown in your flights of fancy, even if I was cast for the part of the Demon King.”
He was smiling at her with that cajoling tenderness which only yesterday had surprised her into compliance, and she experienced a brief return of that curious desire to forget her preconceived notions and simply please him. She made a small gesture of hesitancy towards him, but they had both forgotten Timmy.
“Why’ve you stopped? What you want to quarrel for? Where’s the Demon King? Want to see him!” he wailed, and when Victoria, remorseful at her own neglect, reached back to draw him to her, he struck at her outstretched hands, called her a rude name and started to bawl.
“That’s enough, young man,” Robert said, his laughter gone, and lifted the child over the back of the seat and deposited him in the road with one quick movement. “Now, Timmy—little boys who behave badly aren’t wanted on motor drives. Are you going to say sorry to Toria for hitting her or do we leave you behind in the road?”
The boy stood, scarlet and hiccoughing on the grass staring up at his godfather, dimly aware that something besides his own behaviour had sparked off this unfamiliar anger, but unwilling to admit defeat.
“You—you wouldn’t really l-leave me here, Uncle Rab,” he spluttered, torn between doubt and defiance.
“Oh, yes, I would. It’s time you learnt that boys don’t hit girls, whatever the provocation.”
“Toria wouldn’t let you—besides, I’m lame. Lame boys have special attention.”
“Toria will do as I tell her if she knows what’s good for her, and you’re no more entitled to special attention than other children. You were born lame, so you’ve known nothing different.”
There was silence, punctuated only by Timmy’s hiccoughing sobs and the cackling of hens from a nearby farmyard. Victoria, who had slid over into the passenger seat, made no further move to intervene but watched the small contest of wills with interest. It was rare in her experience for Robert to use his authority with Kate’s son, but it was evidently not the first time.
The little comedy by the roadside came to an abrupt end when Robert reached out a hand to the dashboard and switched on the ignition. To Timmy, the sound of the gently idling engine was the final proof that desertion was imminent and without more ado he flung himself upon Victoria in a fierce abandonment of remorse.
“Good!” said Robert cheerfully, taking his seat behind the wheel. “Now that we’re all friends again you shall sit between us in the front, Timmy, and if you’re very quiet and good I’ll let you steer between my hands.”
Timmy, thus reinstated to a position of importance, held their attention all the way home, but once there he did not take kindly to being banished to the kitchen to take tea with Elspeth, and Kate, obliged to deal both with tears and Elspeth’s ruffled feelings, was in no mood to bear tolerantly with her cousin’s amused explanation of the original cause of the trouble.
“Yes, that’s all very well,” she said, for once finding no favour with Robert’s handling of her son, “but Timmy isn’t as strong as other children and when he gets overexcited, trouble can start. You at least should know that by now, Victoria—or were you too much engrossed with your own affairs to give a thought to your charge?”
The sudden attack was so uncharacteristic that Victoria was too taken aback to make any coherent reply and it was Robert who answered for her.
“Your young employee had been suffering discomfort on her own account, and might therefore be excused,” he said on a faint note of irony, and Kate looked up quickly.
“And what might that mean?” she asked sharply, but he gave her one of his slow, tantalising grins.
“Not what you’re obviously thinking, careful Kate. I had mistakenly urged the poor girl to try the Bentley thinking only to give pleasure, and she didn’t take kindly to my comments on her driving.”
There was a moment of rather flat silence during which Victoria could find no gratitude for Robert’s intervention, then Kate gave a small apologetic laugh and hastily pressed fresh cups of tea upon them.
“I’m sorry, Victoria, I’ve been making mountains out of molehills, I’m afraid. Forgive me and have some more cake.”
“Yes, you have, haven’t you?” Robert said before Victoria could reply. “I wonder what can have provoked such an unusual display of feminine pique.”
But Victoria had a strong suspicion, and since she judged by Robert’s false air of innocence that he was equally aware of the answer, hostility rose in her again.
“Since you’re a man you’d only recognise one reason for feminine pique, whatever that may mean, but women, let me tell you, allow small trivialities to upset a mood which have nothing whatever to do with the sexes,” she said, putting down her empty cup and getting to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, Kate, I’ll go up and read to Timmy until it’s time to put him to bed.”
“Well, there’s gratitude for you!” Robert exclaimed as the door closed behind her. “I strive to excuse your employee’s imagined shortcomings by stating the facts and get put in my place for my pains!”
“Serve you right, too! You know very well, Rob, that your intentions were anything but altruistic. You wanted to embarrass the child, didn’t you?” Kate replied, and somewhat absently poured herself a third cup of tea.
“It’s not easy to embarrass Miss Victoria Mary Hayes when her hackles are up, but I confess I find her unpredictable reactions rather endearing,” he said, and received a straight old-fashioned look from his cousin.
“If I, didn’t know you better I’d have serious misgivings on the wisdom of encouraging these odd weekends,” she said bluntly. “It would be a pity, if you succeeded in turning the girl's head just because you find her unpredictable reactions rather endearing.”
“Would you say there was any chance of her head being turned when the remembered image of the first Mr. Robert Farmer is forever looking over my shoulder?” he asked her with mock despair, and she shook her head at him.
“Don’t play games just for the masculine satisfaction in breaking down resistance. It wouldn’t be fair,” she answered soberly, and the humour went from his face leaving it grave and suddenly tired.
“No, it wouldn’t be fair,” he said gently. “Don’t anticipate contingencies that may never arise, sweet Kate; just remember that I’m grateful for the past years and your unfailing support and hospitality and wouldn’t willingly give you cause for concern, imagined or otherwise.”
“Dear Rob ...” she said with a little smile of acceptance, “has the thaw set in at last?”
“The thaw?”
“That protective wall of ice you fashioned for yourself to shut Irene out. It’s been so long
.”
“Yes, I suppose it has. Well, don’t be too hasty with your metaphors, my dear. If ice melts too quickly it leaves nothing behind but a puddle of dirty water—no solid foundation on which to build again—so leave me a few stubborn icicles to bolster up my morale,” he said with a return to his old manner, and she knew that the moment for confidences had passed.
“Well,” she said, “I’d better go up to the nursery and do my share of story-telling. Will you come up later to say good night? Timmy’s very jealous of his Uncle Rob’s attentions.”
“Yes, I'll be up. I don’t think you’ll find my halo’s slipped, you know. Timmy was quite aware that he was being not only rude but wrong in hitting out at Victoria.”
“Yes, and of course you were quite right to check him. I don’t know why I made such a thing of it.”
“Don’t you? Well, never mind. It’s been rather an unsettling week-end altogether, so perhaps we’ve all been acting a little out of character.”
But although with Robert’s departure the next morning the household appeared to settle back into its normal quiet routine, Victoria was conscious of change. Perhaps she imagined a slight withdrawal in Kate and only fancied a certain coolness in Elspeth, but she found herself hoping that pressure of work would keep Robert away from Farthings for a time, for not least of her doubts was the curious effect on her own emotions. She did not flatter herself that his behaviour on Sunday afternoon meant any more than an impulse of the moment born of idleness and a masculine desire to experiment, but she wished now that she had slapped his face in the traditional manner instead of responding with such undisguised pleasure.
With the dawn of her birthday, however, such fancies were dispelled by the goodwill and small attentions surrounding her. Kate, very conscious that their quiet country life offered little in the way of excitement to a young and attractive girl, had tried to make the day a festive one with small surprises and presents hidden in unlikely places, just as she planned for Timmy on like occasions, and Elspeth contributed with a splendid cake ablaze with twenty candles.
The morning’s post had brought the usual small cheque from the solicitors, together with the customary handkerchiefs from Scottie and Robert’s promised birthday card. Kate privately thought Robert might have found time to choose a personal gift, knowing that Victoria had no relations to remember her, but if Victoria was disappointed there had been no time to dwell on it, for all her pleasure had culminated in the biggest surprise of the morning. Five dozen red roses had arrived by special delivery packed with all the extravagant trimmings of ribbons and bows and a card attached by a silver cord which read simply: With the compliments of Mr. Brown.
Amazement turning to pure bliss had illuminated the girl’s thin face with such startling happiness that Kate had known a prick of irritation. It was absurd in this day and age that flowers from a perfect stranger should evoke such astonished delight.
“Well, it’s a handsome gesture, even though some might call five dozen of the best a trifle excessive,” she had said with some dryness, but Victoria had only smiled and alternately stroked a petal and the plain white card with equal tenderness.
“It wouldn’t have hurt him to add a message—many happy returns or even just best wishes,” Kate went on, wondering why she should feel so put out, and Victoria smiled again, the affectionate smile an adult might bestow on a complaining child.
“He never adds anything but his name,” she said serenely, “I suppose the lawyers see to it for him, but he’s never sent me flowers before, so perhaps, this time, he chose them himself.”
“Hardly, when it’s simply a matter of picking up the telephone, stating your requirements and leaving the rest to the florist. Is it his writing on the card?”
“I don’t know. He never writes letters. The only other time he sent me a present Mr. Chappie or Mr. Ponsonby signed the card.”
“Then the florist’s assistant probably did the same. It’s not a particularly distinctive hand. Never mind,” she added hastily with a belated resolution not to spoil the day, “nothing can take away the compliment of five dozen expensive hothouse red roses to grace our rooms, so I, too, must be grateful to your Mr. Brown.”
But she need not have troubled herself with regrets for her lack of enthusiasm. Victoria, her pleasure in the day enriched by such an unexpected tribute to her consequence, shared none of Kate’s misgivings. The occasion was made perfect by the lavish abundance which greeted her eyes in every room, colouring her thoughts and filling the day with promise. Even Timmy, inevitably playing up at bedtime from over-excitement, failed to spoil the evening for her, though for Kate’s sake she was glad when John Squires, arriving with a large box of chocolates to mark the occasion, went up to the nursery and restored peace with little apparent effort.
“You have as much influence over him as Robert,” Kate told him with some surprise when later they were drinking their sherry while awaiting Elspeth’s summons to dinner, and he gave her a rather curious look.
“Well, of course your cousin has the advantage of occupying a pedestal, but even a dull country GP can cultivate a way with children,” he replied with a twinkle and Kate smiled demurely.
“You shouldn’t grudge Robert his place in the sun—he’s known Timmy ever since he was born,” she said.
“Consequently the natural father-substitute in your eyes?”
“Not necessarily, but it’s become rather a habit to depend on Rob. He’s been a good friend to us both, as I think you know, and helped me through a bad time after the accident. I wasn’t very good company then.”
“Very likely, but you had no reason to blame yourself for the boy’s infirmity.”
“If I hadn’t insisted on going in the car with Jim that day, Timmy wouldn’t have been born as he was.”
“That’s only surmise. Shock can certainly cause damage to the unborn child, but no doctor would care to commit himself on the evidence in your case, so bury that bogey where it belongs, in the unalterable past.”
Victoria had moved away, feeling she was eavesdropping as the conversation became unexpectedly personal, and she stood now in the shadows at the far end of the room, rearranging one of the many bowls of roses.
If the doctor had momentarily forgotten Victoria’s presence, Kate had been perfectly aware of her tactful withdrawal and the mischief was back in her voice as she said: “You’re quite oblivious of your social obligations when you get on your hobby horse, John. Here’s our birthday girl politely trying to efface herself when you should be paying her compliments instead of forgetting it’s her party.”
“Victoria is much too sensible to take offence, since I’m neither particularly young or one of her attendant swains,” he answered, quite unabashed.. “But evidently somebody is sufficiently epris to spend a small fortune on flowers. I’ve never seen such an extravagant display of horticulture in all my life. Who is he, Victoria?”
“Only Mr. Brown, but as he’s never done such a thing before, it’s rather special,” Victoria replied, coming back to join them again.
“What! The eccentric old gentleman who pays the bills but remains unseen? How very disappointing.”
“Oh, no,” Victoria said, her eyes bright with her inward thoughts, “it’s crowned the whole day. Nothing that Mr. Brown has ever done for me has given me quite the same pleasure.”
Kate said rather quickly: “I’m afraid Victoria, for all the advantages of being finished abroad, still tends to cling to her schoolgirl daydreams.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of daydreaming—we all indulge at times—and even to my untutored eye, being finished abroad has paid off handsomely. It’s a pity there’s only myself here to appreciate the results,” John replied with quiet sincerity. Indeed, he thought she looked charming and refreshingly free of the modern tendency to picturesque squalor, sitting there in her white, full-skirted dress, the soft hair with its demure centre parting falling in a shining curve about her neck and shoulders. She was the
sort of daughter he would have liked himself, had he not been fated to be childless, and he found himself wondering what sort of a chap this unknown benefactor might be to content himself with periodic reports of progress and nothing more. By the same token his thoughts wandered to the possible effect a young and unspoilt girl might have on a man of Robert Farmer’s calibre. He was aware that Kate’s rather too well-endowed cousin was not without interest in her protégée, and he wondered, with mixed feelings, how long it would be before Kate herself became conscious that she might have dallied too long in making up her mind.
It was a relief to Victoria that Elspeth chose that moment to announce that dinner was ready, but her pleasure in Kate’s well-intentioned plans to mark the day as something special was beginning to dwindle. It had been a mistake, she thought, to invite the doctor as the sole guest to lend the occasion a party air. She would have been better pleased to sit down with Kate as usual than make up an ill-assorted trio, and although John, doubtless aware that he had started the evening off on the wrong foot, made gallant efforts to amend his shortcomings, she was faintly embarrassed by his avuncular attempts at chivalry. They drank champagne with rather forced gaiety and only Elspeth, summoned to join in a toast to Victoria, treated the occasion as a ceremony. But Elspeth, having excelled herself in the matter of choice dishes, was entitled to insist on ceremony despite the absence of guests, thought Victoria, and knew it would be useless to excuse herself tonight with offers of help with the washing up.
After dinner they watched television, that last standby for filling an empty evening, but John did not stay late, saying he had a call to make on the way home, and Kate made no effort to dissuade him.
“I’m afraid it’s all been rather a flop,” she said to Victoria as she emptied ashtrays and collected glasses after he had gone.
“Oh, no, Kate!” Victoria protested, distressed beyond measure that such good intentions should only bring disappointment. “It’s been a lovely day and you thought up so many nice surprises.”
“Rather as if you were Timmy’s age and expected juvenile treats,” Kate said, and there was a tinge of bitterness in her voice. “But your reactions were irreproachable, Victoria. Never for a moment did you let me feel I was treating you to nursery entertainments.”