The Golden Maze (14 page)

Cindy managed to get out of the car. Her legs felt absurdly shaky and yet she felt quite well.

"Where were you off to ?" he asked as he helped her walk along slowly.

"London. I've got to go ... I must be at work tomorrow."

The man chuckled. "A likely, story ! You can ring your boss and explain. Reckon he wouldn't want you around with two black eyes. You been on holiday ?"

"I've been staying . . . staying at Claife Castle."

"Oh, there," the man laughed. "It's certainly been in the news lately. You must be Miss Preston."

"Yes." A spurt of energy filled Cindy. "And I did not promise to sell the castle to any American !" she said angrily.

"Of course you didn't," the man said soothingly, helping her into his car. "If you'd promised, you'd not have been such a fool as to tell the world, now would you ?"

Cindy hadn't thought of it from that angle. She wondered why Peter hadn't.

The man hurried and got the suitcase which he put in the boot, then handed her the car keys.

"This is very good of you, Mr. . . ?" said Cindy. She was beginning to feel better. Gently she touched her forehead. He was right, there was a swelling there.

"Eastwood. Tony Eastwood. A married man with six children, five girls and a boy," he said cheerfully. "Now I'm taking you to the hospital for an X-ray."

"I don't think . ."

He turned and smiled.. Now she could see that he was a big man with a double chin and dark eyes and practically bald She nut her hand to her glasses. How easily she could have broken them !

"Your nose is a bit cut," he told her with a grin. "Don't think your beauty will be harmed."

"My beauty ?" Cindy found herself laughing. "This is good of you!"

"Pleasure. Think what a wonderful dinner-story this will be. By the. way, I gather the real heir turned up, so the castle isn't yours? Bad luck. A rare old monstrosity, but you can't help being fond of it. What'll the real heir do? Sell it ?"

"Oh no, he's got lots of plans . . ." Cindy stopped abruptly. After all, she didn't know the truth. She had no idea just what Peter's future plans would be. Would he follow her suggestion and make it into a mock-medieval castle, or Yvonne's and turn it into an up-to-date hotel?

They stopped outside a long building and Mr. Eastwood took Cindy in, handing her over to the casualty doctor.

"I'll come back for you," he promised. "Meanwhile I'll arrange for your car to be towed to a garage."

"Will it take long? The repairs, I mean," Cindy asked worriedly.

`Not more than a few days, I reckon."

"A few days ?" Cindy caught her breath with dismay. "Then I'd better stay at a hotel near the garage . ."

"Don't you worry, just leave it all to me," Mr. Eastwood said, striding away, leaving Cindy sitting in the chair, waiting for her X-ray.

CINDY had just been told that the X-ray showed no damage had been done when a little nurse came and said :

"The gentleman is waiting outside, Miss Preston."

Following the nurse to the square in front of the hospital, Cindy stopped still, staring unbelievingly before her.

"It's you !" she gasped.

Peter came forward with a grin. "Who else? I've got your suitcase in the car."

"But, Peter, I asked Mr. Eastwood to find me a hotel while the car's repaired."

"Mr. Eastwood. had enough sense to know I wouldn't allow that. You're coming back to the castle with me and going to bed. It must have been quite a shock." He gripped her arm firmly and led her to the car. "He told me you were driving very carefully or it could have been what he called a nasty business."

"But, Peter, I've got to get to London and . . ." "You can phone your boss. I'm sure a kind man will understand," he said sarcastically.

Cindy looked at him quickly. "I'd really rather not come back."

"I'm afraid you have no choice," he said casually. "As I said once before, I'm much bigger and stronger than you."

"Oh, Peter . .." Cindy began, and then, just as before, found herself laughing. "What do you propose! to do? Drag me by my hair?"

He glanced at her as he drove through the High Street, past the impressive Cross in the middle off the road.

"Well, it's long enough. The X-ray was okay?" "Yes, nothing's wrong with me."

"Good. The car won't take long. Probably be ready, by Wednesday."

"Wednesday ?" Cindy almost wailed.

"Your boss can always cut it out of your holiday, time if he feels like it."

"He wouldn't !"

"Of course not. I was forgetting what a fine man he is," Peter said, again in an odd voice which made Cindy glance at him. "Why did you go off without saying goodbye, Cindy ?"

"I left a note. I hate goodbyes."

"As it turned out, it wasn't."

She wondered what Yvonne would say and wasn't at all surprised when they reached the castle to have Yvonne look at her and say :

"I might have known it ! You castle maniacs just can't stay away. It's in your blood like some virus."

"I hardly think Cindy's so addicted to the castle as to risk her life," Peter said drily, for which Cindy was grateful.

She went to bed—not because she felt ill but because she felt exhausted, limp, unable to face up to Yvonne's accusing eyes or Mrs. Stone's disapproving face. On Monday she stayed in bed, too, pleading nervous exhaustion and no doubt pleasing both

Yvonne and Peter, she thought. He had sent up quite a few books for her to read from the library, so she was quite happy—except now and then when she realised Peter was downstairs and that she was deliberately denying herself the pleasure of his company. But was it pleasure, she wondered, when it hurt so much? Her eyes were black as her rescuer had expected.

Next day Cindy decided she couldn't pretend any longer to be ill, so she went down for breakfast.

"Had a good rest ?" Yvonne greeted her. "My word, your eyes !"

Cindy smiled. "I feel fine, thanks. I must phone my boss. Is that okay, Peter?"

"Of course, be my guest," he said.

"Isn't that what she is?" Yvonne asked sweetly.

"Not a very willing one," Peter said with a chuckle.

"I had to practically force her to come back." Yvonne looked sceptical.

"How long will the car be, did you say, Peter?" Cindy asked. "I could go up by train . . ."

"That's absurd. You'd have to come back to fetch the car. I think it'll be ready tomorrow or the next day."

"Then I could be back at work on Thursday . .."

"Depends on the weather. If the fog comes down, better make it the following Monday," Peter said with a grin.

The telephone was in the library, so after ten o'clock, remembering her boss's late appearance at the office, Cindy phoned him .

"You've what?" he said. "Had a car accident? Are you all right ?"

"I'm fine. I had to have an X-ray as I hit my head, but everything's okay. It's the car. It got rather badly damaged and may take a few days to be put right. You do understand ? Oh, thanks so much, I knew you would. Thank you very much indeed. That's lovely," Cindy finished warmly, and replaced the receiver.

Peter stood in the doorway, an odd look on his face.

"He took it all right?"

"Oh yes," Cindy smiled. "He was quite worried. Told me to rest, as delayed shock often happens days later. He says I'm not to go back to work until next Monday . . . but all the same, Peter, I'd like to go as soon as the car is ready."

"Of course, I understand your eagerness to return to your job," he said curtly, and walked out of the room.

The next thing was to write to Keith Ayres. Not that there was much to say, just that now Peter, the real heir, had turned up, she was leaving as soon as she could.

"I expect you saw the article in the paper," she wrote. "I imagine it had something to do with the letter I posted you. No one here—or at least only a couple—will believe me when I say I didn't phone the newspaper, in fact didn't know anything about the American's offer It hasn't been very nice for me, being practically called a liar, and I shall be glad to be back in London. It was maddening to have the accident just as I was on my way back. I'm all right, but the car needs repairing and I don't think I'll be back much before Thursday or Friday."

She sealed the envelope and drove down to the

village, borrowing Peter's car. Not eager to get back to the castle, she went into Johanna's tea-shop.

Johanna came to greet her. "Nice to see you. Sure you're all right? Your poor eyes !"

"You heard about the accident," Cindy pretended to sigh. "One can't do anything in this village without everyone knowing."

Bringing two cups of coffee, Johanna sat down opposite Cindy.

"She's very beautiful," Johanna said abruptly. Cindy looked at her sympathetically. "I know." "I hear she had lunch with David next day?" "Yes."

There was a silence while they both looked at one another. "I thought it was her and Peter," said Johanna.

"I still think so," Cindy told her quickly, and saw the relief in Johanna's eyes. "I think she was talking business with David. Something about opening a boutique up here."

"Is that all ?" Johanna seemed to relax. "You

[know, it's a funny thing, Cindy, but I'm sure I've met her somewhere. I can't place it, and yet I have this strange feeling. Maybe it's her voice. I don't know, I just don't know. I told Peter so."

"And what did he say ?"

"He looked amused and said he doubted it very much. That this was Yvonne's first trip to Cumberland and he doubted if she'd be likely to have a :double."

Cindy laughed, "I'd doubt it, too !"

"And yet I feel certain I've met her somewhere," Johanna mused.

Back at the castle, Cindy saw it was time for lunch, but only Peter was there. He looked puzzled.

"I thought Yvonne was with you," he said, almost accusingly. "I've been with Luke Fairhead all the time."

"She wasn't with me."

Peter shrugged. "Maybe she's gone to see David." "But how could she without a car?"

"That's a point . . . or he could have called for her. Mrs. Stone," he asked as the tall thin woman brought in the plates of tomato soup, "any idea where Miss Todd is? Did she ask Paul to drive her anywhere?"

Mrs. Stone looked quite offended. "She did not. I saw her go off wandering down the slope—beyond t'end of the garden."

"What would she be doing there ?"

Showing off her sharp teeth, in a gimance, Mrs. Stone shrugged.

"Maybe looking for that path she's so interested in."

"Well, we'll have lunch, but keep something hot for her, will you ?" Peter asked. "She'll probably turn up soon."

But Yvonne didn't. At three o'clock when there was' still no sign of her, Peter went in search of Cindy.

"We're going to look for her. You stay here, Cindy. I'll take Paul and Luke."

"I'll come too," Cindy said quickly.

"No,,you won't."

"Yes, I will," Cindy said firmly. "She might have

fallen and hurt herself, so I'll bring some brandy."

"Look, you'll be nothing but a nuisance ..." Peter

began, when there was a hammering at the front door.

It was Luke Fairhead and Paul Stone.

Luke spoke first. "Ah, good, Miss Preston. You come with me and we'll drive down to the lake and start from there. Peter, you and young Stone start from the top and work your way down. . . ."

"I'm going to help Mr. Fairhead, Peter," she said firmly.

"Okay. Not so dangerous working your way up," he said abruptly. "Come on, Stone."

Mr. Fairhead drove Cindy down to the lake's edge.

"I can't think what Yvonne could be doing down

here. She's looking for that mystery path, but . . ." Mr. Fairhead chuckled. "Women are queer cattle,

Miss Preston. I gather she's always searching for some

way or other to make money."

"I suppose money is important."

"It's a great help when you're very young or very old. However, 'twould not be so important to me as work I love. You got a job you like ?"

"I'm a secretary to a very nice man."

"That's good. Look, we'll park this way along here now. There are some caves just above this spear of land."

"Caves?"

"Yes, mostly grown over by grass and dangerous. Only a fool would go into them," he said, giving her a hand as they went up the steep grass-covered side of the mountain.

They reached a small flat surface. Tall grass and matted fern covered the outside of the caves.

"Miss Todd !" he shouted, holding his hands over his mouth to form a funnel. "Miss Todd !"