The House of the Scissors (17 page)

“Oh no, my dear!” he said in remarkably mild tones. “Once I’ll allow you to get away with, but not twice!”

But Arab was beyond reason. She twisted her arm to one side and cast another wild blow at his head. But this time it was he who slapped her face and her face stung scarlet with the imprint of his hand.

“How dare you?” she cried furiously.

He smiled down at her, his own anger completely evaporated. “You asked for it, Arab. Now, suppose you calm down and tell me all about it?”

Arab chewed at her lower lip. “There’s nothing to tell!” she denied.

His eyebrows shot up. “Nothing? D’you mean to tell me that affectionate scene was in aid of nothing?”

“I don’t mean to tell you anything!” Arab shot back at him. “It’s none of your business!”

“Okay, have it your own way. I have something to tell you. Jill is going to see your parents as soon as she can. I’ve sent a letter with her asking them to come out here for a visit. Do you think they’ll come?”

Arab shook her head. “They’d love to,” she said, “but they’d never be able to afford the fares. Anyway, they don’t have to come. I’ll be going back to England myself as soon as I can get a seat on a plane.”

Lucien gave her a laconic smile. “There’s no hurry. Wait and see how you fed about things when you get that plaster off your foot.”

“I
can’t
wait till then!”

“Why not?”

The colour surged into her cheeks. “I can’t go on staying with you for ever. It’s—it’s embarrassing to—to—”

He didn’t answer her directly. He traced the mark that his hand had left on her cheek with his forefinger, smiling directly into her eyes. “We’ll talk about it some other time,” he said. “At the moment you look about ready for bed!”

Ruth, when she came out of the airport building with Hilary clutching at her hand, was the first to agree with him. She took one look at Arab and hurried her daughter into the back of the car.

“Dinner in bed for you!” she said firmly to Arab. “Ayah can help you out of those clothes the moment we get home. You were looking so much better too! Did you have to go tearing round the countryside in the heat of the afternoon?”

Hilary poked her mother in the ribs. “I was
telling
you,” she began.

“Jacques has to go back to work soon,” Arab broke in quickly. “I couldn’t resist going for a jaunt with him in the Mini-Moke. I miss not being able to drive myself round. We were longer than we thought we’d be, though. I’m sorry to have missed Jill, but she’ll understand.”

“She wouldn’t have approved of the romantic finish!” Lucien drawled. “I thought she’d warned you off that young man!”

Arab lifted her chin. “What if she did? I’m old enough to have my own friends. I’m quite capable of looking after myself!”

“It looked like it!” he taunted her.

Arab flushed. “He kisses very nicely,” she claimed.

His sardonic eyes met hers. “My dear girl, I doubt you have enough experience to tell!”

“Lucien!” Ruth’s outraged voice came from the rear. “That was unkind!”

“I don’t feel kind!” he retorted.

“Well, don’t take it out on my guest!” Ruth said sharply. She studied Arab’s averted face with troubled eyes, noting the red mark on
her
cheek. “Even if you are jealous!” she added.

Lucien laughed shortly. “What did you have to say to Sandra that took so long?” he countered.

So that was who he was jealous of, Arab thought miserably. He had wanted to say goodbye to Sandra himself and when he hadn’t been able to get her to himself, he had taken his temper out on her! Well, she didn’t care! He could love whomever he liked and she wouldn’t care at all!

“She is my sister-in-law,” Ruth said mildly. “I wanted to make sure that she was happy about—things.”

“And is she?” he demanded.

Ruth hesitated. “She isn’t a happy sort of person,” she hedged. “But I think this time she knows what she wants.”

“That’s the first step in the right direction,” Lu
ci
en said. Arab studied him carefully to see what he was thinking, but he gave nothing away. His eyes met hers with a look of enquiry and she looked hastily away. She put her head back wearily and closed her eyes, longing for bed, and more than ever conscious of the tight knot in her stomach that only Lucien’s touch could assuage.

It was only a few minutes’ drive back to the Villa Tanit. Hilary chatted happily all the way, making it unnecessary for her elders to say anything at all. She had particularly noticed a whole lot of new people who had flown in from Nairobi and she wanted to know all about them.

“Don’t you know any of them?” she asked her mother.

“One or two of them,” Ruth answered her. “I was talking to them when you came in to fetch me.”

“You didn’t introduce me!” Hilary complained.

“No,” her mother agreed. “I was afraid that smell of goat was coming from you.”

Hilary chuckled. “It was,” she admitted without resentment. “Arab smells even worse!”

Lucien made a play of twitching his nose in Arab’s direction. “So she does!” He glanced at her and back to the road ahead. “So you had a chaperone after all!”

“Some of the time,” Arab said.

“But you’re still not going to tell me about it?”

Arab smiled, “No.”

She could almost hear Hilary’s breath of relief and wondered if Lucien had too. Silly child, she thought. She would have them all asking questions if she looked so guilty!

But there was no time for more questions just then. Lucien parked the car outside the front door and, without waiting to be asked, lifted Arab into his arms and marched into the’ house and up the stairs, putting her down gently on her bed. She opened her mouth to thank him, but he was already gone, shouting for Ayah as he went.

Ayah came running. Her large, gentle hands eased Arab’s clothes off her aching body.

“You having a shower,
memsahib
?”

Arab grinned at her. “I suppose so. I shall have to get rid of the goat smell somehow.”

Ayah shook her head. “That be Memsahib Kjana! You find her all right? I tell her something when I get her alone!”

“No, don’t!” Arab pleaded for the child. “She thought she was doing me a favour. I think she’s going to tell her mother all about it.”

Ayah looked extremely uncertain. “But I get into bad trouble! She very naughty girl!”

Arab stepped under the shower, rejoicing in the feel of the cool water on her hot, prickly flesh. It was a bit awkward because she had to try and keep the plaster dry by sticking her foot out at an angle, but anything was worth the sheer bliss of the water running over her. She was just about to step out again, taking care not to slip on the wet floor, when Ayah advanced towards her, a shampoo in one hand, and set about washing her hair with an energy that left Arab as limp as a worn-out rag.

“Surely I don’t smell as badly as that!” she objected in muffled tones as her head was seized and pushed firmly under the shower.

“No, it ain’t that you smell bad, but I have the shampoo right here!” Ayah responded, with all the confidence of the universal nanny. “You feel better when you good and clean.”

The funny thing was that she did. She sat up in bed with her pillows fluffed up behind her and hoped that somebody would remember to bring her some food. She was
starving
! It was quite indecent for anyone to be as miserable as she was and yet be hungry, but she couldn’t help it. She kept looking at her watch, trying to make the time go faster, but the hands crawled round until at last it was nearly eight o’clock and she knew that supper had to be soon.

A faint knock at the door brought a quick
“Karibu”
from her. Ruth pushed open the door and advanced a few steps into the room.

“You weren’t asleep, were you?”

Arab looked up eagerly. “No, of course not.” She smiled sheepishly. “To tell you the truth I was hoping that someone was going to bring me some food.”

Ruth chuckled. “I have. I left it on the landing while I made sure that you were ready to receive it. We’ve already had ours, but I thought I’d come up for a while and talk to you while you have yours.” She went out again and came back with a heavily-laden tray. “I’m glad to hear you’re hungry,” she went on approvingly. “I thought my little daughter had reduced you to a frazzle.”

“I must be resilient,” Arab smiled.

“You need to be with Hilary around. Arab, I don’t believe in apologising for other people, not even one’s children, but I’ve had the whole story from Hilary and I’d like you to believe that she didn’t mean any harm.” Arab blushed, glad that she could hide behind her dinner tray. “I was rather touched,” she said gruffly.

Ruth’s sharp eyes rested for an instant on the younger girl’s face. “If I were another kind of mother, I think I’d be quite jealous of the friendship between you and Hilary.” Her eyes danced as they met Arab’s astonished gaze. “Oh, it’s all right, I’m not! Only it has made me think. My work takes me to the back of beyond quite a lot and I don’t really like leaving Hilary, though there’s no problem all the time she can stay with Lucien. What I hadn’t realised was how much it worried her that Lucien might marry someone she didn’t like.” She broke off, shrugging her shoulders.

“Sandra,” Arab put in dryly.

Ruth smiled. “Yes. Sandra.” She was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know how Lucien feels about Sandra,” she said at last. “But I do know my sister-in-law. She’s a few years older than Lucien and she certainly wouldn’t want to be reminded of that—ever! So I asked her what she did intend to do with her life.” She was quiet again, staring thoughtfully at Arab’s plate. “I thought I’d tell you what she said, but I don’t want to seem like an interfering busybody. She says she plans to be the next Mrs. Sammy Silk!”

“No!” gasped Arab.

Ruth nodded slowly. “I knew she had a yen that way, but I had to be sure. It was odd, and rather sad, to see Sandra sizing up her chances with real humility. Sammy, it seems, is an unknown quantity.”

Arab felt suddenly quite gay. “Jill says he’s dotty about her!” she said with satisfaction.

Ruth looked amused. “What a pity we couldn’t try out Hilary’s potion on him!” she joked. “It might have worked!”

Arab sniffed. “Unlikely!” she opined.

“You’re good with Hilary,” Ruth said suddenly. “She actually understood what you said about Lucien having to make his own choice, though I’m afraid she still feels a little push in the right direction would help matters along. She asked me to give you the love potion, just in case you had second thoughts about it! She’d have come herself, but she has been put to bed by an irate Ayah.”

Arab accepted the small package, opening it immediately because her curiosity was thoroughly aroused as to what the mixture could consist of. She smelt it cautiously and was revolted.

“Goodness!” she said. “It’s powerful stuff!”

“I think Hilary would expect something pretty powerful for five shillings!” Ruth remarked with a laugh.

“It’s disgusting!” Arab announced. “Have a sniff?”

Ruth made a face at the powder. “I hope you’re not going to use it,” she said. “I’m rather fond of my brother, and I prefer to have him alive!”

Arab’s hands shook. She put the potion down on her bedside table before Ruth should notice. “I don’t seem to be quite as hungry as I thought I was,” she said. “It’s been a long day!”

But Ruth was not so easily diverted. “Shall I send Lucien up to say goodnight?” she asked, as she reached for Arab’s tray.

“No!” Arab blenched. “No,” she said more normally. “Ayah insisted on washing my hair and I feel like a half-drowned rat still. Besides—”

Ruth looked enquiringly at her.

“I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. He carries on as if I had no mind of my own. He treats me as if I were Hilary’s age!” She heaved a sigh. “Sometimes I wish I were!” she added.

Ruth smiled at her affectionately. “Lucien is more observant than you suppose,” she said. “But I understand, love. He’s a bossy brute where all his womenfolk are concerned, only Hilary and I seem to like it!” She went towards the door. “Goodnight, Arab, and thanks for rescuing my offspring.”

“Think nothing of it,” Arab answered. “Goodnight” She lay quite still for a long time after Ruth had gone, watching a moth that was flying round her bedside light intent on suicide. It made a fli
c
king noise every time it hit the shade, but it still came back to the light.

Supposing, she thought, that Sandra did marry Sammy Silk. And supposing that Lucien found that he didn’t mind as much as he had thought he would. Supposing, just supposing, that he turned to her with marriage in mind, she would fly into his arms and nothing would stop her.

She turned her thoughts away from Lucien, settling herself down to sleep with determination, but she had never felt less sleepy. Then she sat straight with a bang, knocking her book off the bed on to the floor. Why had Lucien written to her parents? And why had he wanted them to meet his family? She lay down again, shivering with an unexpected and unknown excitement. She had to sleep because she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come, tomorrow and Lucien.