Finders and Keepers (40 page)

For some reason he couldn't quantify he began to compare Diana to Mary Ellis. Diana was poised, socially adept, confident and far easier to talk to than Mary, who restricted her answers to monosyllables whenever she could. Yet, he couldn't help feeling that if it came to a choice between the two women, Mary would make a far better and more loyal girlfriend – and wife. He wondered if the preference was down to Diana's open and free attitude towards sex. But when he thought of the number of affairs he'd had during his college years, he felt hypocritical in the extreme.

But Mary's dark eyes had an innocence …

‘You all right, Harry? The drive didn't tire you?' Diana asked when the waiter unrolled her napkin and laid it with a flourish over her lap.

‘No, why should the drive tire me?'

‘It shouldn't, if it was only the drive, although I happen to know that you've been working like a common labourer up at the Ellis Estate every afternoon for the last week.'

He took the menu from the waiter. ‘Martha Ellis has been talking.'

‘You have quite an admirer there. And an adoring student. She wrote her name out for me when I picked up the eggs from the farm this morning.' She glanced at the menu. ‘I'll have the iced grapefruit salad, followed by the lobster with oyster sauce and tomato salad, and for dessert – fresh strawberries, no cream.'

Harry was amazed. Not only had Diana made up her mind in seconds, but unlike most of his other girlfriends, she'd had no compunction about ordering the most expensive dishes on the menu.

‘Make that for two, and we'll have a bottle of champagne, please.' He closed the menu he hadn't even glanced at and returned it to the waiter.

‘Before you bring the champagne, we'll have cocktails. Manhattans?' Diana raised an enquiring eyebrow at Harry.

Recalling that he still had to drive over twenty miles back that night and that his family would be arriving early in the morning, he said, ‘Just one Manhattan, please, waiter.'

‘Spoilsport,' Diana muttered when the man left.

‘I have to be up early tomorrow.'

‘And I have to be up and working in the sanatorium by eight.' She toyed with her fork. ‘I confess, I didn't realize my father was a slave-driver when I offered to help him after his assistant left.'

‘Why
did
he leave so suddenly?' Harry sat back so the waiter could set their drinks on the table.

‘Can't you guess?'

‘He found Craig-y-Nos too isolated?'

She sipped her drink. ‘Mmm, just the right amount of vermouth to whisky. No. He contracted tuberculosis.'

‘Then he's a patient?'

‘His family sent him to Switzerland on the first available boat-train. If he had been working anywhere else, he would have probably disregarded the early symptoms. But even if he makes a recovery he won't be returning to Craig-y-Nos. Re-infection occurs in a high percentage of tuberculosis patients. The last time my father heard from him he was considering a career in medical research. That way he can at least work regular hours and organize regular meals. And who knows?' She smiled. ‘Given his personal interest in the disease he may be the one to find the cure we're all looking for.'

‘So, that's why you stepped in.'

‘My father advertised but most of the best people are going to Switzerland to work in the clinics there. They are experimenting with innovative treatments that seem to offer the best chance of survival – provided the patient is up to travelling that distance. And before you ask -'

‘I know my grandfather isn't. He barely survived the journey from the Rhondda to the Swansea Valley. But my family are grateful to you. Despite the distance from the Rhondda you have made him far more comfortable in Craig-y-Nos than he would have been in any of the Rhondda or Pontypridd hospitals.' The waiter arrived with their iced grapefruit salads.

She picked up her spoon. ‘These look delicious. Harry, you can have no idea how much I have been looking forward to this evening.'

‘You do like your work, don't you? You're not just doing it because of what happened to your brothers and sister?'

‘I admit they were the reason I wanted to study medicine, but I also love my job,' she assured him. ‘Don't misunderstand me, I'm very fortunate to be able to work with my father, and not just because he is my father. I'm learning more than I ever would have in a general hospital in London, and it is rewarding. Nothing compares to seeing a patient who was carried into Craig-y-Nos sitting up, or walking. But sometimes I feel as though I'm serving a sentence on one of those isolated French penal colonies. Craig-y-Nos is beautiful, but for all the life I see there, I may as well be incarcerated on Mars.'

‘I wouldn't describe the valley people as Martians,' he laughed.

‘You're lucky; you have Toby Ross to talk to.'

‘And you have your parents, the nurses and some highly intelligent patients,' he countered.

‘When they're well enough to talk. Frank Ross and your grandfather are two of the most articulate and interesting, and that's not just an empty compliment.'

‘And you'll come back to Craig-y-Nos after you qualify?' He signalled to the waiter to pour their champagne.

‘Not immediately.'

‘You'll go to Switzerland?'

‘Until my father is ready to hand the reins over to someone else, probably.'

‘So you can learn about the innovative treatments they offer?' Harry waited until she lifted her glass and touched it with his.

‘And because my lover is opening a clinic there.'

‘Your …'

‘Married lover,' she corrected.

‘You said you're married to your job.'

‘I am. The last thing I need is a husband. And with George it's all fun and no domesticity, which suits us both. It's not as bad as it sounds. His wife is a hopeless invalid. She's been in a mental institution for years. This way he can remain faithful to her and we can work side by side with no complications.'

‘I thought … I mean …'

‘Harry, let's not be coy. Surely you weren't naive enough to think you were my first lover? Given your expertise, I certainly didn't think I was yours.' She lifted her glass again. ‘To you, Harry. The sweetest, kindest boy I know. I hope you soon find a besotted and devoted wife who deserves you.'

*……*……*

Diana proved to be an expert dancer. When she did the Charleston every other person on the floor stopped and formed a circle around her. Harry saw other men eyeing him enviously, and wondered how they would react if they knew that Diana had more than one lover. He smiled wryly. Judging by the looks they were sending her way, they'd probably join the queue.

All he felt when the band played the National Anthem at midnight was relief that the evening was over. Although Diana looked as though she could have danced and downed Manhattans all night, he was tired. A week of working in the fresh air coupled with the emotional strain of his grandfather's illness had taken its toll. He took Diana's cloakroom ticket from her bag, picked up her coat and was waiting to offer her his arm when she was finally ushered from the building with a dozen other stragglers.

‘You're an angel.' She stood with her back to him so he could help her on with her coat. ‘Shall we walk along the beach?'

‘It's after midnight.'

‘The moon is waning, the stars are out, the tide's in and the sea looks glorious. Come on.' She slipped her arm out of his, ran down the road and over the slip bridge. Below them the last train from Mumbles to Swansea wound its way along the track next to the coast road. She turned back and smiled at him. ‘The perfect end to a perfect evening and a perfect affair.' She kissed him, a surprisingly chaste kiss after all the lovemaking. ‘Thank you, Harry, I'm ready to go home and back to London now.'

The only sensation he registered was relief. Outwardly Diana Adams was a woman any man would be proud to marry. But whatever else she was, she wasn't his Isabella.

And that was the moment he realized Mary Ellis was.

Chapter Seventeen

Harry leaned his elbow on the side of his car, slid forward on his driving seat and peered through the windscreen. The now familiar countryside of the upper Swansea Valley had been transformed by the darkness. What little he could see of it in the glare from his headlamps was unrecognizable. Shadows took on strange, terrifying shapes, and leapt out unexpectedly when he negotiated blind bends, and the car's lights froze hares, rabbits, foxes and stoats in positions more suited to a taxidermist's studio than nature, contributing to the peculiarly nightmarish atmosphere.

Diana moved beside him. He glanced across at her but her eyes remained closed. She pulled her coat over herself and settled back in her seat. He didn't blame her. If he could have, he would have slept himself. He rubbed his eyes, looked ahead and saw a house he knew. They were entering Abercrave. He had only travelled eighteen miles but it had seemed more like eighty.

Abandoned to his thoughts, he debated his future more seriously than he had done since he'd left Oxford. And, as part of his future – the newest and most vital part – he considered Mary Ellis. He recalled their first meeting. He hadn't realized at the time that it had been worth the stinging discomfort of the iodine to make her acquaintance. She was unlike any other girl he had ever known – totally and completely unique. There were so many words he could use to describe her – fierce, savage, wild, untamed – and all would be accurate.

By the standards of Diana Adams and his sisters she was unkempt, but he preferred to think of her as untouched by artifice or the vagaries of fashion. Raw and untutored, she hadn't a modicum of the refinement or elegance a woman needed to succeed in modern society. But she did have a bewitching, beguiling innocence. Something Toby had said only a few nights before came to mind:
Harry, even I'm beginning to wonder what attraction the Ellises hold for you. At first I accepted that you felt guilty about knocking Martha down, but now?

He'd succeeded in fooling Toby, and even himself, into believing that his visits to the Ellises had been prompted by a charitable desire to help the family. But now he realized that he had only wanted to spend time with Mary Ellis. Beneath the display of suspicion and hostility, which he blamed on the tragic and early death of her parents, she was caring and sweet-natured, especially towards her brothers and sister. And she was beautiful – seductively so – with her exotic dark features.

No woman had ever needed a man to take care of her more than Mary Ellis, and he was grateful that he had the money to do just that. He would cosset, educate, nurture, love and spoil her. And his reward would be to watch her blossom after he'd removed her from her life of drudgery.

He began to make plans for the entire Ellis family. First, he'd take them from the blighted, run-down farm, move them to Pontypridd and rent a decent property for them until his house was ready. He would live at home until his and Mary's wedding could be arranged. He'd take them around the Gwilym James department stores and let them pick out anything they wanted, clothes, toys, things for the house …

He'd ask Mari to help him find housemaids, a cook and a gardener, so Mary would never have to do housework again. David might be a problem. He could hardly send him to school. An illiterate boy his age would be teased unmercifully, but he'd employ a tutor who could teach him alongside Martha and Matthew. And once the boy reached an acceptable standard David himself could decide what profession or trade he wanted to follow.

He'd enrol the younger two in private schools. His sisters attended the grammar school in Pontypridd.

Martha would never pass the entrance examination but there was a convent school in Cardiff. She could board there in the week and come home at weekends, and he would find an equally good school in the city for Matthew.

He would employ a nursemaid to care for Luke, and introduce Mary to the pleasures of urban living – the theatre, picture houses, hotels, restaurants and dance halls. They would go for walks in the new park, and he would teach all of them to roller-skate, ride bicycles and after the near-tragedy of the reservoir – swim. He would drive them to the beaches he had visited as a child.

His mother and sisters would help Mary to acquire the necessary social graces. They would be pleased and his father would be delighted at the prospect of him finally settling down.
Settling down.
He shuddered.

He couldn't wait to marry Mary and move into his own house, but his plans for domestic happiness didn't solve all his problems. In fact, they created more. He could hardly take the entire Ellis family to Paris and expect them to lead a student's life there. But the last thing he wanted to do was work nine to five, dressing formally every morning in a suit, stiff-collared shirt and tie. Yet if he returned to live in Pontypridd his trustees would put pressure on him to work in one of his own companies.

The castle wall towered, blacker than the shadows on his right. He turned into the Adamses' drive and turned off the ignition. Diana remained still, her head resting sideways on the edge of the seat. He shook her gently and, conscious of her parents sleeping in the house, whispered her name. She opened her eyes and looked around.

‘To quote Madame Patti's most famous song, “Home Sweet Home”.'

‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. It must have been that last Manhattan.'

‘Or the hours you worked today before we went out.'

She shivered and huddled into her coat. ‘What's the time?'

He struck his lighter and held it over the face of his wristwatch. ‘A quarter past one.'

‘Another four and three-quarter hours before I have to get up.'

‘Poor you.'

‘It was a lovely evening, Harry, thank you.'

He walked around the car and opened the door for her. ‘I enjoyed it too. I'll see you again?'