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Authors: Sara Seale

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BOOK: The Dark Stranger
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Yes?


You go back to school for another year.

She stopped dead in the middle of an alleyway.


To
school!
But I

m nearly seventeen!


Have you forgotten all you told me about leaving school too early?

The rhododendrons almost met above their heads, shutting out the sky, and she could scarcely see his face.


No,

she said,

but it

s different now, and anyway there isn

t any money.


I think there is,

he replied a little grimly.

If Belle is living here rent free she scarcely needs your father

s little sum set aside for your education. Leave it to me.


Yes, Cousin Craig,

she said meekly and walked beside him in silence.

As they came out on to the lawn she saw the house, dim in the growing darkness, its lighted windows offering welcome.


There will be holidays here, won

t there?

she asked on a note of doubt.


Naturally.


I—I don

t mean to take your kindness for granted,

she said shyly.

It

s just that—when you

re my age you have to do what

s arranged for you.


Yes, that must be cramping.


Not cramping but very—beholden to strangers.

After a little pause he said:


Charity has more meanings than one, you know.


Yes. I suppose so. Cousin Craig—I know you

re being kind for Belle

s sake, but thank you—thank you very much for including me.

He did not seem like
a stranger in the darkness and with the unthinking impulse of a child she flung her arms round him and laid her cheek for a moment against his breast.


Oh, I

m sorry,

she said, almost immediately withdrawing.

Belle doesn

t like demonstrations, but I don

t always remember.


Doesn

t she?

For a moment his voice had a curious ring, but when he next spoke, it was with his usual abrupt manner.


Go straight to bed, will you, please, Tina? I want to have a talk with Belle. Good night.

 

CHAPTER
FOUR

I

LONG after, looking back on that surprising year, T
ina
understood many things which puzzled her at the time, but now with the approach of autumn and a school wardrobe to be gathered together at such short notice there was little to do but become a child again and accept whatever was ordained.

She shopped with Belle in Truro and spent long hours in the workroom at Tremawvan while Brownie fitted and pinned and grumbled crossly at the extra work.

Belle was in the best of moods.


You see?

she said to Tina.

I told you I

d get my way. Rich Cousin Craig

s mercenary conscience must have pricked him at the end.


I don

t think
—”
began Tina but stopped. It was not
wise to disabuse Belle of her chosen ideas and quite useless to venture the opinion that Cousin Craig

s conscience had probably been quite clear.


Can we afford all this?

she asked doubtfully as Belle bought lavishly and without her usual regard to economy where Tina was concerned.


Oh, yes. We haven

t hotel bills now,

Bel
l
e said, and thought with pleasurable enjoyment that as Craig was footing the bills there was no need to spare his pocket.

There was little remaining of the money which Clement Linden had left, she had told her cousin when he put forward his proposition. They had been living on capital since his death and there was certainly not enough to pay for a year

s expensive schooling and all it would involve. Could Tina not attend a cheap day school in the nearest town?


No,

said Craig shortly,

she could not. Very well, Belle, since you

ve always considered the Pentreaths owed you something I

ll discharge the debt this way. I

ll be responsible for Tina

s school fees and her clothes and any extras within reason on one condition—that she never knows the money is coming from me.


How curious not to want recognition for your magnanimity,

said Belle with her irritating drawl.


Do you think so? Oddly enough the child has an objection to being beholden to strangers.


Yes, she never took very kindly to you in the first place, I

m afraid.

He gave her a level look.


You didn

t give me very good press in the first place, did you, Belle? Now, please understand Tina

s to know nothing about my part in this.

Belle laughed.


Oh, I don

t mind taking the credit, only it seems a little hard, don

t you think, that the Pentreath debt is all going to benefit my unappreciative little stepdaughter?


Hardly. If it wasn

t for Tina

s schooling you would scarcely be making your home at Tremawvan.

She shot him an amused look.


Oh, I see. Tina has become a mission. Because you were cheated in your own youth you want to work it out this way. Or are you really very complex, Craig, and choose this method of discharging a debt to your own flesh and blood?


I owe you no debt, Belle,

he said a little wearily,

but if I can offer you a home until things are better I

m quite prepared to do it. After all, you married the man of your choice and did without Pentreath consideration while it suited you.


Your father wouldn

t have had me in the house and you know it,

she retorted.

That hard look of steel came back to his eyes.


Let it be clearly understood that if you are to live here for the next year you had better forget about your grudge against the Pentreaths, and your insolence, too,

he said harshly.


Insolence?

Her eyebrows went up.


Your contempt
is
insolent. You have the same blood in your veins. You shouldn

t despise it.

She lowered her eyes and when she next spoke her voice had lost its arrogance.

“I’
m sorry,

she said.

I forget sometimes that you are different to the others. I

m not ungrateful for your generosity, Craig, and after all, I have foisted Tina on you. Please try to understand that things aren

t always easy and—well, you have so much, haven

t you?


So much and perhaps, so little,

he replied enigmatically, but at the swift, inquiring look she gave him from under her lashes, he smiled with polite denial.

No doubt the same can be said of most of us. I hope the next year will be happier for you, Belle.

And after that?

she asked with soft speculation.

His face told her nothing.


Shall we leave that until the time comes?

he replied and went away to his study to write letters.

At last Tina was ready. Brownie had sewn on the
final
name tapes, her trunk was packed and her new uniform laid out to wear tomorrow. It was strange, she thought, slipping away to the little temple before dinner to take a last look at her garden, how mixed she felt at the sudden resumption of her childhood. It was, she thought, as if she was playing a part and was a grown-up returning to school for a whim. She was not adult yet, but neither was she the authentic schoolgirl steeped in a tradition of games and work and rules and girlish attachments. Would she ever get back, she wondered, or would she find herself a fish out of water fitting into school life no more successfully than she had done in Belle

s changing hotels?

The evening was like any other, except that now it was getting too chilly for coffee on the terrace. They sat in the big living-room, Belle with a magazine, Brownie with her sewing and Craig smoking his pipe and staring abstractedly into space. The clocks ticked noisily and Tina realized she would not hear them again for months, or smell the scent of burning applewood or watch Brownie

s needle flashing so assuredly in the lamplight.


It

s my last evening,

she said suddenly and loudly.

Belle did not look up from her magazine.


Yes, dear, we know,

she said absently.

Brownie looked up from her sewing to nod across the room.


There

s always a last evening and a last time, too,

she said.


But there

s a difference, isn

t there—between those and other times, I mean?

Tina addressed Brownie but she was aware suddenly that Craig was watching her. His face in the lamplight was dark and withdrawn and before the appraising glance he levelled at her, her own eyes fell.


Of course,

she faltered,

it isn

t very important going back to school.


Not important at all,

said Belle briskly.

I hope, Tina, you aren

t going to treat us all to the schoolgirl

s farewell.


If you go into my study, Tina, you

ll find an anthology of verse on my desk with your name in it,

said Craig unexpectedly.

Take it up to pack tonight.


I

ve put my good-luck present in your room,

remarked Brownie.

A needlework case which I doubt me you

ll use with any skill.

Tina

s eyes grew bright with surprised gratitude.


Oh,
thank
you
...
thank you both so very much,

she stammered and darted out of the room, across the silent hall and down the short corridor to Craig

s study, that room she must never enter without permission.

When she returned, Brownie was already folding up her work and Craig had knocked out his pipe for the night.


Better go to bed, Tina,

Belle said, glancing at the clock.

You

ve got an early start in the morning so I won

t disturb you when I come up. Good night.

Tina stood looking
d
own at her stepmother. Zachary was to drive her into Truro and put her on the London train and she realized
with an inexplicable sense of nostalgia that she would not see Belle again until Christmas.


Couldn

t you come to Truro too—just to see me off?

she pleaded and Belle laughed.


Darling!
At crack of dawn
?
Surely you know me better than that! Now say goodnight and go and get your beauty sleep or you won

t be up in time, yourself.

Tina stooped to kiss her and at the last moment gave her a thoughtless hug.


For heaven

s sake be careful!

Belle exclaimed.

You

re pulling my hair down.

She gave the girl a quick kiss and returned to her magazine.

It seemed very early when Tina was called, but Brownie was up, attending to last-minute details of luggage and seeing that Tina swallowed tea and toast to her satisfaction.


Now, you

ll get breakfast on the train and mind you go right through it,

she said.

And don

t speak to any strangers until your school teacher meets you in London.


Yes, Brownie. Is that the car? Zachary

s early, isn

t he
?


Craig

s taking you,

Brownie said
.


Cousin Craig?

Tina

s eyes widened.

But I thought
—”

BOOK: The Dark Stranger
9.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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