Then She Fled Me (18 page)

‘
They have kept her ever since

Deep within the lake,

On a bed of flag-leaves

Watching till she wake
.
’

“
‘
Watching till she wake
...’ ”
murmured Adrian, his eyes on Sarah leaning from the broken tower in the wind, her dreaming gaze seeking out Dun Rury.

They are their lunch in the shelter of the tower, and Adrian listened lazily while the Riordans continued their plans for Christmas. This led inevitably to reminiscences of other years.

“
Do you remember, Joe, when Nolan got drunk and you had to put him to bed?
”

“
Do you remember when the tree caught fire?
”

“
Do you remember the
surprise hampers Father used to order from Dublin?
”

Kathy described for Adrian the country custom of placing a lighted candle in the window on Christmas Eve to invite the Christ-child in should He be passing.

“
We always had one in the nursery,
”
she said.
“
I
’
ll light one for you this year, Adrian.
”

“
What a charming custom,
”
he said gently.

“
One year a child did come,
”
Sarah said, her eyes bright
with remembrance.
“
It was only one of the Mulligan children, really, but he stood in the snow with the lamplight
shining on his hair, knocking at the window. Do you remember, Kathy?
”

“
I remember you brought him indoors and he ate a whole box of chocolates and was sick as a dog,
”
Joe observed with a grin, and Kathy frowned at him.

“
But that didn
’
t spoil the moment,
”
she said a little sharply.
“
Of course we brought him in. It was good luck on the house.
”

Sarah looked at her a little strangely.

“
Good luck?
”
she said.
“
Have you forgotten it was the year Father died? It
’
s cold sitting still. I
’
m going higher up the mountain. Coming, Joe?
”

But Joe seemed a little cross, and stayed where he was, bringing out a pipe, and Sarah went off alone. Presently they could hear her singing.

“
‘
As I walked down through Dublin city
...’
”

The wind took the words and carried them away, and Kathy began to tell Adrian the legend of Cuchulain
’
s Keep.

He listened absently, seeing for a moment with Sarah
’
s eyes the child standing in the snow, a halo of light about his head. Kathy
’
s gentle voice beside him did not distract him from his thoughts. She was not as good a storyteller as her sister, and after a little her voice trailed away as she became aware of his inattention.

“
Well,
”
Joe said,
“
Sarah
’
s right.
It
’
s too cold for sitting about. We
’
d better pack up.
”
He shouted up the mountainside to Sarah and began packing up the lunch basket.

Sarah came sliding down the mountain path above them, shouting:

“
I think I saw an eagle
’
s eyrie.
”

“
Nonsense,
”
Joe said.
“
There are no eagles here.
”

“
There have been. Well, hawks, anyway.
”
She came and stood beside Adrian, following the direction of his gaze.

“
They say Cuchulain brought his warriors down this glen. I can see him riding the Grey of Macha, loved by three times fifty queens.
”

His eyes rested on her clear profile. She was bracing herself against the wind which blew the black hair back from her face like a pennant, and he had the fleeting impression of a ship
’
s figure-head, strong and proud with the strange timelessness of the centuries.

“
Keep your strength and your pride, Sarah,
”
he said softly, and she turned her head to give him a startled look.

“
Sarah
”
—Kathy
’
s voice behind them was a little fretful—
“
do give
a hand. I
’
m getting cold, and Joe wants to go home.
”

In December the weather changed to a deceptive mildness. Aunt Em discarded her mittens and Kathy was able to sit in a sheltered
corner
of the walled garden with a book. Cards began to arrive, their Christmas scenes according ill with the weather. There was one from Miss Dearlove; a copy affair of elves and toadstools. Sarah looked gloomily at the turkeys, trying to decide which ones should be killed. Adrian
’
s dress clothes arrived from England.

Sarah took the box up to the nursery and waited with frank curiosity for him to open it. Parcels at Dun Rury had always been common property.

“
What do you suppose it is?
”
she asked, standing on one leg, which seemed to be a favorite habit of hers upon occasion.

He pushed the box aside without opening it.

“
My dress clothes, I imagine,
”
he said and glanced at her with a twinkle.

“
Then you mean to go to the dance,
”
she said.

“
Certainly. I said I would.
”

“
Kathy will be pleased. I wonder who Joe will find as a partner for you? The O
’
Sullivan girls will be home, though they
’
re not exactly
girls. Sheila O
’
Sullivan, the youngest, is thirty-five.
”

“
Definitely on the shelf,
”
he said.
“
Who else can you think of?
”

“
Well, there
’
s Eileen Rafferty who lives next door to the Kavanaghs, only she doesn
’
t dance very well, Joe says, and there
’
s the Healey girl who giggles, only I think she
’
s got herself engaged, now. I can
’
t think of anyone else. We know so few people, living all this way out, but Joe will find you someone.
”

“
Why don
’
t you want to come yourself?
”
he asked.

“
Oh, dances aren
’
t in my line,
”
she answered carelessly.
“
Dressing up and having to wear stockings.
”

He shook his head at her.

“
That
’
s not really the reason, you know.
”

“
What other would there be?
”

“
I
’
m afraid you don
’
t want to dance with me
.
”

“
That
’
s silly
—
”
she began swiftly, and he replied:

“
Yes, isn
’
t it?
”
She was silent.

“
You still dislike me?
”
he asked politely, and she moved away a little awkwardly.

“
No, no, I don
’
t,
”
she said.
“
Sometimes I like you very
much. I don
’
t always understand you. I
—”

Even to herself she could not explain what she felt. He was right, of course. She did not want to dance with him, to experience that unfamiliar intimacy of his arms, but not for that reason.

“
Perhaps you think I can
’
t dance,
”
he said.

“
Of course
I
don
’
t. I
—”
She turned and saw for a
moment the teasing light in his eyes, and looked perplexed. She was used to being teased by Joe but not by Adrian.

He smiled slowly, and she had the impression that he understood her reluctance better than she did herself.

“
Well, I don
’
t doubt you
’
re right,
”
he said, but whether he was referring to his abilities in a ballroom or to her own stubborn decision, she had no means of knowing.

Nonie
’
s preparations were in full swing. She made dozens of mince pies, the gingerbread that Sarah was so fond of, and a gigantic cake ready and waiting to be iced. The kitchen was redolent with the scent of spice and baking, and the whole family would gather there in the mornings, irresistibly drawn by the festive atmosphere which always pervaded Nonie
’
s kitchen weeks before Christmas.

“
I feel sorry for people who leave all their preparations to servants, don
’
t you, Kathy?
”
Sarah said, unpacking
with care the decorations which graced the cake each year, the
rhina
Santa Claus, the reindeer, the tiny, frosted trees.

“
I don
’
t know,
”
Kathy said absently.
“
It must be rather nice to leave everything to experts and just be the perfect hostess.
”

“
And you
’
d do it very beautifully, darling. Now me. I like to have a finger in every pie. I like to know what
’
s going on below stairs. I should hate to just sit in my drawing room and be a perfect lady.
”

“
It
’
s where you both belong,
”
grunted Nonie, getting ready to ice the cake.

“
And where would you be, you old hypocrite, if we left
you all the dirty work?
”
said Sarah severely, and Nonie smiled.

“
O
ch, well—I don
’
t doubt me kitchen, is just another nursery to the both of you. Stop fiddling with them gew-jaws before you break them, Miss Sarah.
”

Sarah put the decorations down and dipped an exploratory finger into the bowl of
icing
sugar.

“
What are you going to give Adrian for Christmas?
”
Kathy asked.

“
Nothing,
”
said Sarah, licking her finger with enjoyment.

“
Nothing? But, Sarah
—”

“
Does one give presents to the lodger?
”
Sarah asked.
“
What do the Miss Kellys do, Nonie?
”

“
Paper hats and a glass of bad sherry,
”
said Nonie, beginning to ice the cake.

Sarah giggled.

“
I can
’
t see the Flinty One in a paper hat,
”
she said.

“
But, Sarah, Adrian
’
s different,
”
Kathy said. She was sitting by the stove, her hands idle in her lap, and her eyes were indignant.

“
Well, you can give him something if you want to, but I think you
’
ll embarrass him. He won
’
t expect to make us presents.
”

“
Then you
’
ll find yourself mistaken,
”
said Nonie briskly.
“
There
’
s a gentleman who is a gentleman, English or no. Christmas is a time for giving, and he
’
d not be shamed in a strange country, and he empty-handed on Christmas morning.
”