Then She Fled Me (21 page)

“
The place suited me,
”
Adrian replied a little stiffly.
“
It didn
’
t matter to me where I went.
”

“
Is that so? Well, there
’
s no telling what will please
anyone, but for a man of your type
—”

Danny poked his head round the door.

“
Aren
’
t you
ever
coming, Uncle B.?
”
he said.
“
We want to start the carols.
”

Kathy was already at the piano, a lighted candle on either side of the music-rest. They had put out the lamps, and only the tree stood in a little circle of light, its shining tinsel winking in the shadows of the branches. The turf fire threw a soft glow over the shabby furniture, and on Sarah standing, slim and expectant, by the piano.

“
Now we can begin,
”
Joe said.
“
But first the old tradition.
”

He held a sprig of mistletoe over Kathy
’
s head, kissed her and passed it to his father.

“
Denis instituted that the year after Kathleen died
,
”
Aunt Em told Adrian.
“
He called it Christmas homage to the loveliest face in the room. The men have done it ever since. It
’
s your turn, now.
”

Brian was holding out the sprig of mistletoe to him, and he took it and bent over Kathy.

“
To the loveliest face in the room,
”
he said gravely, and she raised a face into which the bright, rich color suddenly flooded.

“
She
’
s blushing!
”
shouted Danny delightedly.
“
Joe never makes her do that.
”

They all laughed, but Joe
’
s eyes were thoughtful as he turned away. Sarah, standing silently by the piano, looked at Adrian under her lashes. He was idly twirling the mistletoe in his fingers, and as he made a sudden move to toss it on the fire she darted away from him. He followed her more slowly, and stood grinning down at her.

“
I hadn
’
t got designs on you, you know,
”
he said softly.

She looked at him warily.

“
I didn
’
t suppose you had.
”

“
O
h,
yes, you did. You were off like a startled fawn. But
,
r
eally, I wouldn
’
t presume to kiss my landlady under the mistletoe. I might be thrown out.
”

Her mouth curved up in a reluctant smile, but there was an odd hurt look in her green eyes, not, he thought, because of his teasing, but at her father
’
s thoughtless little tradition.
“
Will you sing
The Spanish Lady
for me later?
”
he asked.

“
If you like,
”
she replied indifferently, and moved back to the piano.

They sang all the well known carols, while Adrian listened, his eyes on the lighted tree and his thoughts with those other Christmas days so barren of the simple things of the season. He remembered years ago including a group of old
carols
in
a
Christmas Eve recital, and the critic who had w
r
itten
“b
rilliant execution was shown in the Scarlatti and
L
iszt groups, but Mr. Flint did not seem to have the tender
s
implicity essential to his carols.
”
Yes, tenderness and compassion were lacking in him then. Such qualities had never been demanded of him by life. It was the one flaw in every performance.

He was aware suddenly of Sarah sitting beside him. The carols were over and Kathy was playing her favorite Schumann.
Warum
...
Traumerei
... he had not had the tenderness for those, and neither, he thought, had Kathy, She played correctly, but without understanding, an echo of the painstaking schoolmistress who must have placed such importance on tempo and style. He had been unconsciously rubbing his finger joints and he felt Sarah
’
s cool hand close firmly over his
.

“
Don
’
t,
”
she whispered and smiled at him. When the piano stopped, she said quietly,
“
Kathy
’
s playing irritates you, doesn
’
t it?
”

“
No—no, Sarah,
”
he replied awkwardly. She plays very nicely.
”

“
But she
’
s an amateur.
”

“
That has nothing to do with it. You are an amateur with little or no voice, but your singing pleases me very much.
”

“
Kathy has been well taught
—”

“
Oh, yes.
”
He glanced at her, and said a little helplessly:
“
The trouble is she
’
s not really musical.
”

“
I know,
”
she said unexpectedly, and got up and left him.

“
Adrian wants
The Spanish Lady
,”
she told Kathy. He would like to have played it for her, sharing with her the gaiety of music. Instead he watched her face with its changing expressions, the smile which touched her lips at the charming words and found only pleasure in her unskilled performance.

“
When she saw me then she fled me,

Lifting her petticoat over the knee
...
”

Kathy stumbled over a phrase and his fingers itched to correct it. The candles flared in a sudden draught and the song was over.

“
Bravo!
”
cried Brian.
“
Let
’
s have some more of the old favorites.
”

She sang
Eileen Oge
and
Trottin to the Fair
and that lovely gentle melody,
The lar
k
in the clear air.
The candles on the Christmas tree burned down and Aunt Em sat listening, carried back to the days of her girlhood, and thought how odd it was that Sarah should be singing those old songs and not Kathy. The songs were Kathleen
’
s and the voice was Kathleen
’
s, too, as she had sung to Denis Riordan in the days of their courtship.

“
That was very like Kathleen,
”
Brian said with a sigh as Sarah finished, and Aunt Em nodded.

“
You felt it, too?
”
she said.

Sarah came back and sat beside Adrian.
“
Your mother sang those songs?
”
he asked.

“
They were all mother
’
s,
”
she said.
“
That
’
s how I learnt them. I remember she used to try and teach them to Kathy, but Kathy always went off the note.
”
She looked down at her hands.
“
Perhaps,
”
she said quietly,
“
my father would have liked to hear me sing.
”

He did not answer, but thought suddenly of Brian saying:
“
His eyes were always blinded by Kathy, she was so like her mother, you see.
”

“
Well, all good things come to an end. It
’
s getting late and we ought to be on our road,
”
Brian said, looking at his watch.

“
Oh, must you go just yet?
”
Kathy said. She always hated a party to end.

“
By the time we
’
re home it will be long past midnight,
”
Brian said.
“
Come along, Joe.
”

They made their farewells and left. Kathy went with them into the hall. Brian would be some time finding his overcoat and muffling himself up.

“
It
’
s getting colder,
”
she said, opening the front door.
“
Look at the frost on the lawn.
”

Joe held her two hands in his.

“
Have you enjoyed your Christmas?
”
he asked.

“
Oh,
very
much. I think Adrian enjoyed it, too, don
’
t you? He
’
s quite human and sociable now.
”

He smiled but did not answer, and she said:
“
And you, Joe? Did you enjoy Christmas
?
”

“
Yes, Kathy,
”
he said then,
“
not as much as I had hoped, perhaps, but—well, there
’
s still
New Year
’
s Eve, isn
’
t there?
”

“
Yes,
”
she said, and gently drew her hands away.
“
We
’
ll meet you there, Joe, as we arranged. I
’
m glad Sarah
’
s coming after all.
”

“
How did you manage to persuade her
?”

“
Adrian persuaded her. At least I gather he practically ordered her to come.
”

Joe laughed.

“
Ordered our Sarah and she obeyed! Well, times are changing! Are you ready, Father?
”

“
Yes, yes, just coming. Thought I
’
d give you two young people a minute to yourselves, eh, Kathy?
”
Brian patted her cheek.
“
By the way, Joe, did you notice the way young Flint was looking at Sarah this evening?
”

“
At Sarah?
”
said Kathy a little sharply.

“
Yes. I had a talk with him after dinner. Seems a decent chap, and sound, too. Well!
C
ome on, Joe. Goodnight, my dear, and, if I don
’
t see you before, a happy New Year.
”
He kissed
Kathy and hurried out to his car, and she shut the door quickly and ran back to the library. Sarah was snuffing out the candles on the tree, and Adrian stood by the piano idly turning over a sheet of music.

“
Sarah,
”
Kathy said,
“
I
’
ll finish that if you want to go to bed.
”

“
It
’
s nearly done,
”
said Sarah.
“
And I
’
m not sleepy.
”

Aunt Em was already urging Danny to bed and Kathy went and peered over Adrian
’
s shoulder to see what he was looking at.
“
Those are the second set of Irish airs. Do you know them?
”
she asked.

“
Some of them.
”
He smiled down at her flushed face.
“
I must thank you for a delightful evening, Kathy,
”
he said a little formally.
“
A very delightful Christmas altogether.
”

“
The nicest you
’
ve ever had?
”
she exclaimed childishly.
“
Oh, but of course that
’
s nonsense.
”

“
Not nonsense at all,
”
he replied.
“
I can quite safely say it
’
s the nicest Christmas I
’
ve ever spent.
”

“
Oh!
”
she said softly and glanced over her shoulder at Sarah, who was emptying ashtrays into the fire.
“
Sarah
...
don
’
t bother, darling
...
Mary will do it in the morning.
”

“
It
’
s no bother,
”
said Sarah, and Adrian straightened his long back.

“
Well, if there
’
s nothing I can do, I think I
’
ll go to bed,
”
he said.
“
Goodnight, both of you, and thank you.
”
“
You might,
”
Kathy said tearfully as soon as the door had closed,
“
have left us alone.
”

Sarah frowned into a dirty glass.

“Left you alone?” she repeated. “Whatever for?”

“Well—I—I wanted to ask him something about my music.”

“You can ask him tomorrow.”

“I suppose so, only
—”

Sarah put down the glass and looked across at her sister with a puzzled expression.

“Are you upset?” she asked, then added softly: “What about Joe, Kathy? You said you would decide at Christmas.
I hope you’ve been kind to Joe.”

“
Oh, mind your own business!
”
flared Kathy and slammed out of the room.

Sarah was troubled. It was so unlike Kathy to lose her temper, and there had been something about Joe that had worried her all day. Had Kathy put him off yet again? But she had promised—she had promised that at Christmas she would give him his answer, and Kathy would keep a promise. The next day, however, there was no sign of that brief ill-humor. Kathy seemed her usual serene self, and although she did not apologize in so many words for her sharpness, she conveyed in countless little ways that she had not meant it.