This Rough Magic (32 page)

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Authors: Mary Stewart

BOOK: This Rough Magic
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The boat rocked sharply, and for a moment I thought he was already in her, but again it was only the wind. This seemed to be rising still, in sharper gusts which sent little waves slapping hard along the hull, and sucking up and down the piles on which the platform stood. I could feel the jerking motion as the
Aleister
tugged at her rope, then she bucked, sharply and unmistakably; Godfrey had jumped into her.

Minutes passed, filled with the muffled night-noises, but I could feel, rather than hear, his weight moving about the boat, and strained my senses, trying to judge where he was and what he was doing. The boat was steadier now, swaying gently to the small ripples passing under her keel. A draught moved through the cabin, smelling freshly of the sea-wind, so that I guessed he must have left the boat-house door open, and this might mean he didn’t mean to stay long …

The wind must be quite strong now. The boat swayed under me, and a hissing wave ran right along beside my head. The
Aleister
lifted to it with a creak of timber, and I heard the unmistakable sound of straining rope and the rattle of metal.

Then I knew what had happened. There was no mistaking it, rope and metal and timber active and moving – the boat was alive, and out in the living sea. He must have swung the big doors open without my
hearing him, then poled her gently out, and now she was alive, under sail, slipping silently along shore, away from the bay.

I couldn’t move. I simply lay there, shivering under my load of blankets, every muscle knotted and tense with the effort of keeping my head, and trying to think …

Max would surely be back by now; and even if he was still in Corfu, Adoni was probably already on his way home … and he would have left Miranda’s message for Max, so Max wouldn’t linger in Corfu, but would come straight here, and probably bring the police. When they got down to the boat-house and found the boat gone, and me with it, they would guess what had happened. There wasn’t – I knew this – much hope of their finding the
Aleister
in the darkness, but at least I might have a card or two I could play if Godfrey found me. Under the circumstances he could hardly expect to get away with my disappearance as well.

Or so I hoped. I knew that if he discovered about the missing package he would probably search the sloop, and find me. But since there was nothing I could do about that, my only course was to stay hidden there, and pray for a choppy sea that would keep him on deck looking after the
Aleister
. Why, he might not even come below at all …

Just three minutes later, he opened the cabin door.

18

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?

I
. 2.

I heard the click, and felt the sudden swirl of fresh air, cut off as the door shut again.

There was the rasp of a match; the sharp tang of it pierced right up into my hidden corner, and with it the first smoke of a newly-lighted cigarette. He must have come in out of the wind for this, and now he would go …

But he didn’t. No movement followed. He must be very near me; I could feel, like an animal in the presence of danger, the hair brushing up along my skin. Now I was thankful for the chop and hiss of water, and for the hundred creaking, straining noises of the
Aleister
scudding on her way through the darkness. Without them, I thought he would have heard my heartbeats.

He can only have stood there for a few seconds, though for me it was a pause prolonged almost to screaming-point. But it seemed he had only waited to get his cigarette properly alight: he struck another match, dropped it and the box after it on the table, and then went out and shut the door behind him.

Relief left me weak and sweating. The closed end of the berth seemed like an oven, so I pushed the blanket folds back a little, to let the air in, and cautiously peered over them, out into the cabin.

A weapon; that was the first thing … I had the torch, but it was not a heavy one, and would hardly count as adequate armament against a murderer. Not that it was easy in the circumstances to think of anything (short of Leo’s gun) that would have been ‘adequate’, though I would have settled for a good, loaded bottle, if only the damned cupboard had been open. But bottles there were none. I cast my mind furiously back over the cabin’s contents … The galley? Surely the galley must be packed with implements? Pans were too clumsy; it must be something I could conceal … a knife? I hadn’t opened the shallow drawers during my search, but one of them was bound to hold a knife. Or there was the starting handle for the engine, if I could get the engine hatch opened silently, and then station myself on the galley side, behind the door, and wait for him …

Cautiously, one eye on the door, I reached down to push the blanket aside, ready to slide out of the quarter berth.

Then froze, staring with horror at the foot of the berth.

Even in the almost-darkness. I could see it, and Godfrey, in the matchlight, must have seen it quite clearly – my toe, clad in a light yellow canvas shoe, protruding from the huddle of blankets. I was about as well hidden as an ostrich beak deep in sand.

Now I knew what had happened. He had come in quickly out of the wind to light his cigarette, had seen what he thought was a foot, had struck another match to make sure – and, having made sure, had done what?

I was answered immediately. The boat had levelled and steadied, as if she were losing way. Now, seemingly just beside me, the engine fired with a jerk and a brief, coughing roar that nearly sent me straight through the bulkhead; then it was throttled quickly back to a murmur, the merest throb and quiver of the boards, as the
Aleister
moved sedately forward on an even keel. He had merely turned the boat head to wind without taking in the mainsail, and started the engine, so that she would hold herself steady without attention. I didn’t have to guess why. His quick step was already at the cabin door.

I whisked off the berth, dropped my wet coat, and straightened my dress. There wasn’t even time to dive across the cabin and open the knife-drawer. As Godfrey opened the door I was heading for the table and the box of matches, apparently intent on nothing more deadly than lighting the lamp.

I threw a gay greeting at him over my shoulder.

‘Hullo, there. I hope you don’t mind a stowaway?’

The wick caught, and the light spread. I got the globe fitted back at the third try, but perhaps he hadn’t noticed my shaking hands. He had moved to draw the curtains.

‘Naturally I’m delighted. How did you know I’d decided to come out after all?’

‘Oh, I didn’t, but I was hoping!’ I added, with what I’m sure was a ghastly archness: ‘You saw me, didn’t you? You were coming in to unmask me. What’s the penalty for stowing away in these seas?’

‘We’ll arrange that later,’ said Godfrey.

His voice and manner were pleasant as ever, but after that first bright glance I didn’t dare let him see my eyes; not yet. There was a mirror set in a cupboard door: I turned to this and made the gestures of tidying my hair.

‘What brought you down?’ he asked.

‘Well, I wanted a walk after supper, and –
have
you a comb, Godfrey? I look like a mouses’s nest!’

Without a word he took one from a pocket and handed it to me. I began, rather elaborately, to fuss with my hair.

‘I went down to the beach; I had a sort of vague idea the dolphin might come back – they do, I believe. Anyway, I went to look, but it wasn’t there. I walked along the path a bit, listening to the sea, and wishing you
had
been going out. Then I heard you – I knew it must be you – over at the boat-house, so I hurried … You know, just hoping.’

He had moved so that he was directly behind me. He stood very close, watching my face in the glass. I smiled at him, but got no response; the light eyes were like stones.

‘You heard me at the boat-house?’

‘Yes. I heard the door.’

‘When was this?’

‘Oh, goodness knows, half an hour ago? Less? I’m
no good over times. I’d have called out, but you seemed to be in a hurry, so—’

‘You saw me?’

His breath on the back of my neck brought panic, just a flash of it, like a heart-spasm. I turned away quickly, handed him his comb, and sat down on the settee berth, curling my legs up under me with an assumption of ease.

‘I did. You were just coming out of the boat-house, and you went rushing off up the path to the house.’

I saw the slightest relaxation as he registered that I hadn’t seen him coming down from the cave with the packages. He drew on his cigarette, blowing out a long jet of grey smoke into a haze round the lamp. ‘And then?’

I smiled up at him – I hoped provocatively. ‘Oh, I was going to call after you, but then I saw you had a sweater and things on, so you probably
were
going out after all. I thought if I just stuck around you’d be back, and I could ask you.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Why didn’t I what?’

‘Ask me.’

I looked embarrassed and fidgeted with a bit of blanket. ‘Well, I’m sorry, I know I should have, but you were quite a time, and I got bored and tried the door, and it was open, so—’

‘The door was open?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s not possible. I locked it.’

I nodded. ‘I know. I heard you. But it hadn’t quite
caught, or something, you know how those spring locks are. I’d only tried it for something to do – you know how one fidgets about – and when it opened I was quite surprised.’

There was no way of knowing whether he believed me or not, but according to Spiro the catch had been stiff, and Godfrey had no idea I could have known that. I didn’t think he could have changed the lock as he had threatened, for I had heard him myself wrestling with it on Monday; but that was a chance I had to take.

He tapped ash into a bowl on the liquor cupboard, and waited. He looked very tall; the slightly swaying lamp was on a level with his eyes. I toyed with the idea of giving it a sudden shove that would knock his head in, but doubted if I could get there quickly enough. Later, perhaps. Now I smiled at him instead, letting a touch of uncertainty, even of distress, appear.

‘I – I’m sorry. I suppose it was awful of me, and I should have waited, but I was
sure
you wouldn’t mind my looking at the boat—’

‘Then why did you hide when I came down?’

‘I don’t know!’ The note of exasperated honesty came out exactly right. ‘I honestly don’t know! But I was
in
the boat, you see, in here, actually, poking about in the cupboards and the ga – kitchen and everything—’

‘What for?’

‘What
for
?’ Every bit of technique. I’d ever had went into it. ‘Well, what does a woman usually poke around in other people’s houses for? And a boat’s so much more fun than a house; I wanted to see how it was
fitted, and the cooking arrangements, and – well, everything!’ I laughed, wooing him back to good temper with all I had, playing the ignorant; it might be as well not to let him know how much I knew about the sloop’s lay-out. ‘And it really is smashing, Godfrey! I’d no idea!’ I faltered then, biting my lip. ‘You’re annoyed with me. You
do
mind. I – I suppose it
was
the hell of a nerve … In fact, I
knew
it was, and I suppose that’s why I hid when I heard you at the door … I suddenly thought how it must look, and you might be furious, so I got in a panic and hid. I had a vague idea that if you weren’t going sailing after all I could slip out after you had gone. That’s all.’

I sat back, wondering if tears at this point would be too much, and deciding that they probably would. Instead, I looked at him meltingly through my lashes – at least, that’s what I tried to do, but I shall never believe the romantic novelists again; it’s a physical impossibility. Godfrey, at any rate, remained un-melted, so I abandoned the attempt, and made do with a quivering little smile, and a hand, genuinely none too steady, brushing my eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I truly am. Please don’t be angry.’

‘I’m not angry.’ For the first time he took his eyes off me. He mounted a step to pull the door open, and looked out into the blackness. What he saw appeared to satisfy him, but when he turned back he didn’t shut the door.

‘Well, now you are here you might as well enjoy it. I can’t leave the tiller much longer, so come along out. That’s not a very thick coat, is it? Try this.’ And he
pulled open the cupboard and produced a heavy navy duffel coat, which he held for me.

‘Don’t bother, mine will do.’ I stood up and reached for my own coat, with the torch in the pocket, then remembered how wet it was. For the life of me I couldn’t think offhand of any reason for the soaked skirt where I had knelt in the puddles of water. I dropped the coat back on the bunk. ‘Well, thanks awfully, yours’ll be warmer, I suppose. It sounds like quite a windy night now.’

As he held it for me to put on, I smiled up at him over my shoulder. ‘Have you forgiven me? It was a silly thing to do, and you’ve a right to be furious.’

‘I wasn’t furious,’ said Godfrey, and smiled. Then he turned me round and kissed me.

Well, I had asked for it, and now I was getting it. I shut my eyes. If I pretended it was Max … no, that wasn’t possible. Well, then, someone who didn’t matter – for instance that rather nice boy I’d once had an abortive affair with but hadn’t cared about when it came to the push … But that wouldn’t work either. Whatever Godfrey was or wasn’t, he didn’t kiss like a rather nice boy …

I opened my eyes and watched, over his shoulder, the lovely, heavy lamp swinging about a foot away from his head. If I could manoeuvre him into its orbit … I supposed there were circumstances in which it was correct, even praiseworthy, for a girl to bash a man’s head in with a lamp while he was kissing her …

The
Aleister
gave a sudden lurch, and yawed sharply. Godfrey dropped me as if I had bitten him.

‘Put the lamp out, will you?’

‘Of course.’

He ran up the steps. I blew the lamp out, and had the glass back in a matter of seconds, but already the
Aleister
was steady again, and Godfrey paused in the doorway without leaving the cabin, and turned back to hold a hand down to me.

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