Green Girl (31 page)

“
I
’
ll miss him, of course, Clooney will seem very quiet without him,
”
she answered truthfully, then added, because she had to know before he went away, leaving her with that voiceless question unanswered.
“
Duff—did you really think that—that Rory and I—
”
she broke off awkwardly, and he finished the sentence for her quite gently.

“
Were lovers? No, Harriet
,
if that brings you any comfort. One can sometimes whip oneself into a state of belief—from various causes—bitterness, hurt pride, even a sense of failure in oneself. Can you understand that?
”

“
Yes,
”
she said, and the colour began coming back into her face.
“
I
’
m glad, Duff. I wouldn
’
t have liked you to think I
’
d repaid your generosity with—with a betrayal.
”

She had tried to choose her words carefully, not wanting to burden him with a fresh sense of failure by reminding him that in the end he had refused the only gift she had to offer, hoping just the same for a crumb of solace even though it might only be an acknowledgement of good faith, but he seemed to withdraw again.

“
No, I don
’
t think you would. Your insistence on the obligations laid upon gratitude are doubtless very worthy, but to be regarded as a charitable institution can become irksome,
”
he replied with some dryness.

“
Yes, I suppose so,
”
she said a little blankly, not very sure what he meant, but aware that she had somehow said the wrong thing again.
“
Will you be back for New Year
’
s Eve?
”

“
Is that another of your hallowed occasions?
”
he asked, and she thought he was laughing at her for a childish insistence on the importance of occasions which no longer mattered very much to him.

“
Not hallowed like Christmas,
”
she answered with grave consideration,
“
but the start of another year is sort of clean and fresh and young. You can put away the mistakes and disappointments of the old year and start again.
”

“
So you can,
”
he said, and his voice had softened.
“
And you think that you and I, by seeing in the New Year together with faith in our hearts, could call down a blessing and start again?
”

“
We could at least call down a blessing,
”
she said, still not at all certain of his mood, and he ran a hand over her smooth head, twisting and untwisting a strand of hair round his finger to feel the texture.

“
Very well,
”
he said,
“
I will be back on New Year
’
s Eve without fail, and that
’
s a promise. Are you still expecting unlikely miracles, Harriet?
”

“
Miracles needn
’
t be unlikely if you believe enough,
”
she said gently.
“
Someone said—St. Augustine, I
think
—what is faith unless it is to believe what you do not see?
”

“
Yes
... yes ...
Perhaps some of that faith of yours will rub off on me,
”
he said slowly, then the twinkle was back in his eye.
“
Did they stuff you with lives of the saints as well as other things?
”

“
Oh, yes—martyrs, too, but I didn
’
t care much for them, all stuck with arrows and things and carrying their eyes about on plates,
”
she said quite seriously, and he burst out laughing.

“
What macabre reading! Who carried their eyes about on plates?
”

“
I don
’
t remember,
”
she replied vaguely.
“
I could never really
do
with martyrs—they so enjoyed their misfortunes.
”

“
And you don
’
t enjoy yours?
”

“
My misfortunes aren
’
t at all the same,
”
she replied rather primly, and ducked under his arm and ran out of the room.

CHAPTER
TEN

ALL day the sullen skies threatened, sending down a few half-hearted flakes which melted into fresh puddles before they froze, but by nightfall it was snowing in earnest and Harriet
’
s spirits rose with happy visions of snowmen and toboggans, skating on the frozen lough and all the merry, old-fashioned
clichés
she had wanted for Christmas.

They all went out after breakfast to throw snowballs and laugh at the delirious antics of the dogs, or rather Uriah, for the two Alsatians executing turns and arabesques in the snow were patterns of grace and delight to watch, but poor Uriah on his short, bandy legs, soon became submerged in the smallest of drifts, and sat with only his head above surface, gazing at them reproachfully from under his shaggy brows.

“
Never mind, my poor lamb!
”
Harriet said remorsefully as she dug him out yet again, but he was offended and, his tail tucked down, trotted back to the house where she found him later sitting on Kurt
’
s blanket in the snug. She knelt down to make a fuss of him, but he was staring at her with such a curious expression that she sat back on her heels, hesitating for a moment to touch him. Those soft, beseeching eyes had such a strange look of sad knowledge, of acceptance, that she had an odd little
frisson
of fear. He sat so still and regarded her so steadily that it almost seemed as though he was communicating some message, then she gathered
him
into her arms to comfort his hurt feelings and tears of relief and remorse pricked her eyelids as she felt his warm eager tongue licking her face accompanied by the customary little whines of pleasure with which he always rewarded her attentions.

“
What
’
s the matter, Princess?
”
Rory said, coming into the room with Duff for the pre-luncheon sherry.
“
Something upset you?
”

She smiled up at him, brushing the tears from her lashes.
“
It
’
s nothing—I just got a funny feeling about Uriah,
”
she said.

“
What sort of funny feeling?
”

“
I don
’
t know. He had a queer kind of look.
”

“
Well, let
’
s face it, sweetie, he
’
s a queer kind of dog.
”

“
No, it wasn
’
t like that. It
’
s difficult to explain. I expect it was really only my own conscience pricking for having made fun of him.
”

“
All dogs hate being laughed at,
”
Duff said, holding out a glass of sherry to her.
“
Stop nursing the disreputable tyke and take your drink.
”

But she did not want to let the dog go just yet and had failed for once to catch the little rasp of irritation in Duff
’
s voice.

“
Put it down somewhere, I
’
ll have it later,
”
she said, and he put the glass down on a table too sharply, spilling a little of the wine.

“
You
’
re making a fool of the animal,
”
he said as he mopped up the sherry with his handkerchief.
“
Well, at least get up off the floor and let Kurt have his blanket.
”

This time she heard the warning note and scrambled to her feet, chivvying Uriah off the blanket and calling to Kurt, but Uriah sat where he was, then rolled on his back, grinning at them. Kurt approached the blanket dignified and beautiful, the tip of his plumed tail moving in gracious acknowledgement as he passed Harriet, then he stood stock still and the hairs rose along his back. Harriet
’
s heart
dropped. T
he
Alsatian had ignored Uriah since the day of his arrival, but he had never attempted to start a scrap, and if he did so now, she thought, it would put the finishing touch to Duff
’
s apparent ill-humour.

“
Kurt
...
here, boy
...
”
she said softly, but he took no notice of her, and stood there stiff and still, his head thrust forward, his ruff fanned out, staring at Uriah, and she could see the quiver in his throat which was the prelude to growling. It was not a growl he uttered, however, but that small, piping whine peculiar to his breed which could mean distress, or affection or a plea for attention, but never hostility. Kurt then did a thing he had never done before, he nuzzled the wriggling Uriah, smelling him all over with delicate questing thrusts from his long m
u
zzle, then he licked his face with one sweeping curl of the tongue and lay down beside him.

“
Duff, did you see?
”
Harriet said, her eyes suddenly enormous in her anxious face.

“
See what?
”
Duff, who had still been mopping up the spilt sherry, returned his handkerchief to
hi
s pocket and looked round.

“
Kurt. He sort of spoke to Uriah, then kissed him and lay down beside him
.
He
’
s never done that before.
”

“
Well, it shows a nice, unselfish nature, doesn
’
t it? You wouldn
’
t get many dogs willing to share their recognised possessions with interlopers. Why make a sentimental fantasy out of it? Kissing—really!
”

Harriet went to the table to take up her glass, and stood with her back to him.

“
Interlopers—intruders—words you
’
re rather too fond of, Duff,
”
she said, surprised by the sudden bitterness which had welled up
in her.
“
I
’
m getting a little tired of being slapped down for sentimental fantasies whenever I come out with something that seems perfectly natural to me.
”

“
I
’
m sorry, Harriet. It was an unforgivable but unintentional lapse on my part,
”
Duff said, and went out of the room.

Rory got up and put an arm round Harriet. He hoped she was crying because tears always eased her, but he had never had occasion to raise that temper so rarely provoked, and the face she turned to
him
seemed for the moment the face of a stranger.

“
Perhaps you can see now, Rory?
”
she said.
“
That
’
s all I
’
ve meant to him—a willing partner whose sentimental fancies can pall if you
’
re not in the mood to indulge them—a care and an acknowledged liability, yes, but an interloper just the same.
”

He touched her wet lashes with a compassionate finger, resisting a temptation to take her in his arms and kiss away the bitterness and hurt.

“
Harriet—dearest—don
’
t let bitterness spoil everything for you,
”
he said.
“
Duff was impossible, I know, but he
’
s worried stiff. A lot depends on the success of this Dublin trip tomorrow, you know.
”

“
So I would imagine. I told Samantha at the party that I was tired of being pushed around to make a Roman holiday for them both. Well, if he wants her, he can have her. It
’
s nothing to do with me, and never has been, really.
”

“
You told Samantha she could have him?
”

“
No, I said they
’
d better make up their minds.
”

“
I see. Well, that explains the lady
’
s intention of coming here to see you before she goes back to Dublin, I suppose.
”

“
Does it? Well, she hasn
’
t been, and I couldn
’
t care less either way,
”
said Harriet.
“
My only regret is that you have to go tomorrow, too. Must you, Rory?
”

“
Yes, Princess, I must,
”
he said.
“
Apart from anything else, I
’
ve an appointment with a manager I must keep—or word will get around in the theatre that I
’
m unreliable, and it
’
s time, too, for you to take stock on your own.
”

She smiled at him a little tearfully. She did not believe that his appointment with a manager was much more than a polite excuse, but she understood that for both of them the moment had come to take stock.

“
I
’
ll miss you,
”
she said.

“
I hope you will—but I
’
ll be back, and when I am, I shall expect to find your dreams have come true for you.
”

“
My dreams have come true, but nobody wants them,
”
she said, and he gave her a sharp little slap on her behind.