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Authors: Sara Seale

Then She Fled Me (28 page)

BOOK: Then She Fled Me
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You and your lame dogs,

he said.

You

ll never run a business, Sarah. Now, here

s a couple of aspirins to make you sleep, and let

s hope you

re none the worse. Do you still feel shivery?


No, I feel lovely,

she said, and reached put a hand to take one of his.

Thank you, Adrian, for coming to find me. It

s nice to be looked after.


Then I

d better appoint myself as guardian from now on,

he said, giving her fingers a squeeze.

But if I

m going to look after you, mind, I expect to be obeyed.


In all things?

she asked, smi
l
ing sleepily.


In all things. Now go to sleep. That

s the first order.

Sarah was lucky, in Adrian

s opinion. She caught a bad cold but nothing worse. She was doubtless running a temperature, he thought, looking down at her flushed face in the morning, but her
breathing seemed normal, and he told Nonie that a
couple of days in bed would probably put her right.

Sarah enjoyed all the attention. Adrian carried up her trays, her family looked in at all hours of the day and Nonie reverted to nursery days with her commands and admonitions. In the afternoons Adrian brought his gramophone into her room and played her the records she had begun to
r
ecognize and love, and she would sit propped up against th
e
pillows looking like a little girl with her straight, childish fringe and the young, touching hollows in her slender neck.

“Y
ou know,

she said to Adrian,

in all these years, I

ve never known the family so attentive. Did I give them a fright?


I think I gave them the fright,

he answered humorously.

I

m afraid I was a little rude to your sister.


To Kathy?

she said with surprise.

No one is ever rude to Kathy. She

s so gentle.


You admire gentleness?


Well, one feels one has to guard it, don

t you think? Now me, I

m not gentle. I

m tough.


Not so tough
,

he said with tenderness.

But you

ve had too much to carry.


Have I? But, you see, Father relied on me. That

s why he left me Dun Rury
.


Yes, well—do you remember what I told you that day at St. Patrick

s Well
?


About my father and Dun Rury being one?


Yes.


You said it wasn

t healthy, but I still don

t see why.

“I think I was trying to point out that it was dangerous to transfer an affection to some inanimate object which simply became a symbol.”

She lowered her lashes.

“Can one do the same thing with a living person?” she asked, and he glanced at her sharply.

“Yes, I believe it’s quite common—especially in the very young.”


And is that unhealthy, too?

He smiled, and pushed the fringe back from her forehead;

No, I don

t think so. Sometimes it

s the basis of something very lasting and precious—providing, always, of course, you pick the right recipient.

She reached out for his hand.


I expect I

ll understand one day,

she said.


I expect you will.


Do you think it

s the snow?

she asked suddenly.


The snow
?”


The snow that

s changed things. Being cut off, I mean. Things have changed, haven

t they?


Have they, Sarah? Yes, I suppose they have, though I think the change is more in yourself.


How
?

“P
erhaps you don

t fight me as much as you used to.


Did I fight you? Yes, I suppose I did. Dear Adrian, I didn

t know.


You didn

t know what?

“I’
m not sure.

She sounded suddenly sleepy.

But you

re nice. You

re my very
...
nicest
...
lodger
...”

Kathy came to see her, and sat on the end of the bed asking questions about Adrian.


What does he talk about
...
what does he do when he comes up here?


I don

t know. Sometimes he plays me records, sometimes we just talk—I don

t know what about.

She only knew that the old ache had gone.


He

s nice, isn

t he?


Very nice. Not really the Flinty One at all.


I never did think so, but perhaps I understood him better.


Did you, Kathy? Do you understand him now? I don

t always.


I think he

s just looking for something—something to fill the gap.

Sarah stared at her and her eyes were afraid.


Something to fill the gap,

she repeated a little forlornly.

Perhaps we all have gaps to
fill
—”


Not you, Sarah,

Kathy said in her gentle voice.

You have Dun Rury.

Sarah looked at her, and the
s
trange security of the last two days slipped from her.


Kathy—

she said, but her sister looked past her.

You have, haven

t you?

she said with gentle persistency.


Yes,

said Sarah bleakly.

And I thought you had Joe.

Kathy bounced off the bed with a sudden impatient movement.


Oh, Joe!

she said.

You

ve got a bee in your bonnet about Joe as much as you have about Dun Rury. I

m fond of Joe, but it

s finished. Understand that, Sarah, it

s finished.

Sarah was to get up the next day. Aunt Em brought her a glass of hot milk before going to bed and stood, twittering with satisfaction that her cold seemed so much better.


It

s much milder, and Nolan says
i
t

s thawing at last,

she said.

It will be a relief when things are normal
again. No mail for so long, and the whisky

s running short. I must say Mr. Flint is a great surprise, carrying trays and shovelling snow. He didn

t seem to expect to do a hand

s turn when he first came, shutting himself in the nursery and ringing bells and all.


Why don

t you call him Adrian?

Sarah asked lazily.


Well, dear, I

ve never got used to the modern habit of Christian names on short acquaintance, and he

s not a
boy,
if you understand me, and he pays to be here, and—well, I find it more natural to address him formally. But he

s easier than I expected, I must own, and so charming to Kathy. He

s reading poetry with her now in the snug.


Is he? Aunt Em, sit down a minute. D
o
you find Kathy different these days?


Different?

her aunt said vaguely.

In what way?


Well, it

s hard to explain. But she seems touchy—difficult. I thought at first it was because of Joe, but now I don

t know. Have you noticed?

A
unt Em sat down beside the bed.


Well, dear, she

s unsettled,

she said.

We

ve been cooped up for so long, and then you see Mr. Flint has unsettled her.

Sarah lowered her lashes.


Yes, that

s what I thought.

The ache was back again, now.

He—he

s so different from Joe, isn

t he?


Well,

said her aunt a little apologetically,

I

m very fond of Joe but I can understand that for a girl like Kathy he wouldn

t stand much chance against a man of Mr. Flint

s accomplishments.


No, I suppose not. But Joe—it seems so cruel—he can

t help being what he is.

Sarah suddenly began to cry, and Aunt Em looked at her a little anxiously.


There

s no need for you to be upset, dear,

she said mildly.

After all we can

t fall in love to order, can we? Joe will get over it.


Poor Joe,

wept Sarah.

Poor, poor Joe .

A sudden suspicion crossed her aunt

s mind, and she smiled and patted her hand. Now
that,
she thought, following her own reflections, would be very satisfactory, very satisfactory indeed.


Don

t worry, Sarah, it will all come right,

she said.

You

ve always been so faithful to Joe—that won

t go unrewarded. Now dry your eyes and drink your milk. It

s your cold that is making you feel depressed.

But downstairs, in the snug, she said in answer to Adrian

s enquiry:


Better I think, but I left her a little tearful. She seemed upset about Joe.


About Joe?

His eyebrows rose a fraction.


Yes. Kathy, has it ever struck you that Sarah is really very fond of Joe?


Well, of course. She always has been,

Kathy answered, looking puzzled.


But has it ever struck you that she might—er—care for him more deeply without realizing it?

They both stared at her—Adrian with a slight frown between his eyes, Kathy with a dawning look of comprehension.


You mean you think Joe and Sarah—oh, but Aunt Em, she

s always been so angry with me for not being nicer to Joe.


Because she

s always thought he wa
n
ted to marry you, but now—well, it is quite common for a man to marry on the rebound, isn

t that so, Mr. Flint?

Adrian

s frown had deepened.


So I believe,

he said shortly.

Aunt Em glanced at him. He did not sound very pleased, she thought, but then most men were dogs-in-the-manger even when they did not want a woman themselves.


It would be very suitable, you know,

she said gently.

They are such good friends, and of course it would settle the child

s future, and she could sell this place, or go on living here if Joe could afford it, which I rather doubt. He could go
into Knockferry every day, and
—”

Kathy interrupted her.


Darling Aunt Em, your plans always run away with you,

she said.

Don

t forget Joe

s supposed to be in love with me.

There was a little droop to the
corner
s of her mouth as if she did not altogether relish losing her old love to someone else.

He—he wouldn

t switch so easily, would he?

Her aunt sighed. No, it did not seem possible that any man having loved Kathy could be content with someone else, but men, she knew, were strange, unpredictable creatures.


Well, dear, men are susceptible to flattery, so my mother always used to say—not that Sarah ever flatters anyone, but she

s a good listener when she likes, and she certainly has been upset on Joe

s account for some time.


But she knows he

s mine,

said Kathy quickly, before she could stop herself, and Aunt Em replied gently:


But you don

t want him, do you, dear?

Kathy glanced at Adrian under her lashes. It was the same secret look which Sarah sometimes gave him. Would he, Kathy wondered, ask her to marry him? Would she still want Joe if she was sure of Adrian?


I don

t know,

she said slowly, then added hastily:

No—no, of course not. I told Sarah so only this evening, and if she wants him—well, I suppose it would be a solution in a way. What do you think, Adrian?

BOOK: Then She Fled Me
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