Unknown (7 page)

Long and low and old, the Manor was at its best on this summer's afternoon. Girded by trim, neatly cut lawns and tidy paths, garlanded with ivy, the Manor was
en fete,
and all the brightly decorated stalls on the front lawns added a touch of gaiety in a medley of coloured bunting and streamers and ribbons. The two huge cedar trees, one set in the centre of each lawn on either side of the main driveway, seemed more majestic than ever, and under their canopied branches the village prepared to enjoy itself, while the Manor looked on with benevolent interest.

Dani parked the car and made her way to the area allocated to her puppet show under one of the cedar trees. Originally, it was to have been a Punch and Judy show, but she had never really liked the traditional story, and had childhood memories of being terrified by the crocodile. So she had created a new story, with the aid of one of her friends, and the handmade glove puppets now lay in their box waiting for the first performance.

Dani strolled across the short grass towards the booth looking around her for Les Whelen, the local vet, who was her co-puppeteer. She could not see him, but attached to the green, white and blue striped material of the booth she found a note in his almost decipherable scrawl.

'Oh no!' The two of them had spent hours practising the play and now he had been called to a farm thirty miles away. He could be gone for the whole afternoon, in fact his note recommended Dani to find someone to take his place.

She could not do it on her own. Often the script called for three characters to be on stage at once and she only had two hands. Yet most of the village people already had jobs of their own to do, and none of the children in the school were quite tall enough. Maybe she could get a box for one of them.

Possible ideas crowded her mind as she stared around at the other stalls. There were a large number of them. The village was small, but its inhabitants were enthusiastic people and the fete was one of the highlights of their year. Dani scanned the white elephant stall, the cake stall, the W.I. stall, the second-hand toy stall, and let her eyes run over the grass beyond them. Was there no one who did not already have a job to do?

'Looking for someone?'

The voice was horribly familiar. Dani felt her heart give a great lurch and turned to stare at Prentice McCulloch. She had been aware of him all day, seeing him busy with the personal address system looking casual but workmanlike in blue jeans and a navy T-shirt. She had kept out of his way, hoping that he would see her and emulate her example. It seemed that he could not. Now he stood before her in black cord trousers and a snowy white shirt open at the neck. He watched her unsmilingly.

'I thought you'd make it your business to be a thousand miles away from here today,' she ventured, and the circumstances of their last meeting made her voice wobble nervously.

'Actually, I only came to see that my lawns weren't completely ruined.' He drew on a thin cigar he was smoking and flicked ash towards the roots of the cedar tree. 'But then an enthusiastic lady roped me in to set up the skittle alley, and after that,' he shrugged, 'well, somehow after that I got involved. It's a damn nuisance but there you are. Anything you want me to do?'

The last time she had seen him to speak to, he had been dragging himself out of a green, evil-smelling, slime-covered pond. He had been uttering obscenities that should have made Dani blush, but which had not because she had been laughing so hard. Yes, she had laughed at him. Now, as she faced him again, she wondered at her own temerity. A man like Prentice McCulloch would never forgive her. This had to be the calm before the storm.

'I don't think so,' she said uncertainly.

'Are you sure? You wouldn't like me to be an Aunt Sally?' He jerked his thumb towards the game, always popular, that involved throwing balls at a target. When the target was struck cleanly, a bucket of water descended on the hapless victim waiting below.

'No, thanks.' Dani's lips twitched in amusement.

'I got very wet the last time we met,' he said casually, hooking his thumbs into the hip pockets of his trousers and tilting his face up to the sky. 'I'm glad you enjoyed yourself.'

'I'm sorry I laughed,' Dani answered meekly, and embarrassment made her clear her throat before the words could be uttered.

'Me too.' He still seemed to be contemplating the tree above his head. 'You don't conform to my image of school teachers. The ones I know don't push people into duck-ponds.'

'The men
I
know don't insult me,' she snapped back tartly. 'You asked for what you got.'

'I did?' He shifted his gaze and green eyes locked with hers. 'Well . . . maybe I did.' A crooked half-smile lifted one corner of his mouth. 'Why don't we call a truce?'

No, oh no, that was much too easy. Prentice McCulloch was not the kind of man to allow anyone to get the better of him. Dani hesitated.

'All right,' she said quietly, but she resolved never to let her guard down when she was with him. Never. He had all the instincts of an expert duellist. He would fence with her, and he would attack when she least expected it. He would never forget her mocking laughter or the way she had sprinted
from him with the watch
clasped triumphantly in her hand.

'So ...
is there anything I can do for you?' Prentice smiled and, as once before, Dani was captivated by the sweetness of it. If only she could be sure it was genuine! 'Since I seem to have got involved in all this, I may as well make the best of it.'

'Could you talk like a dragon?' Who else could she ask? They only just had enough people to man all the stalls, and even some of the older children in the school were helping. The fete always drew hundreds of people from the surrounding villages and was generally judged to be one of the best in the area.

'Talk like a what?' His well-shaped eyebrows shot upwards.

'A dragon. Look . . .' She walked around to the back of the booth and opened the big box that sat on a trestle table. Carefully she drew out a large green, black and yellow dragon with a silly expression on its face.'. . . here he is. I'm doing a puppet show for the children.' Dani shrugged. 'Les Whelen was supposed to help me, but he's been called away.' She held out the dragon to Prentice who took it carefully and examined it. 'It's based on the story of George and the Dragon,' she explained, nervous that he would turn her down. 'I've added to the original story so that it isn't the same as the legend. You'd have to talk for Saint George too, and do a couple of the minor characters.'

'Did you make this?' He was still turning the puppet over in his hands.

'Yes.' She was secretly pleased with her dragon. Vicious looking spines marched down his back, and his tail had a very satisfactory look of power about it, but the laughing expression of the monster made him seem less fearsome.

'It's beautiful.' He found out how to slip it on and suddenly the dragon was not an inanimate puppet but a miniature fire-breather. 'Do you want me to talk like this?' He dropped his voice to a bass, growly rumble. 'Or shall we go for something more avant-garde?' He raised his voice, found the string that operated the dragon's eyelids, and batted them coyly at her. Dani laughed. •

'That first voice,' she said. 'It's good. You surprise me.'

'Why?' Guileless green eyes met hers and Dani hesitated, torn between wanting to confess that she had not realised that he had a sense of humour, and miserably aware of what had happened the last time they had met.

'Not everyone can do it well,' she temporised quickly. 'Do you want to read through the script?'

'If I'm going to do it, I think perhaps I'd better.'

Dani handed him the typed sheets of paper and began to get the puppets out of their box. Saint George, the sun glinting off his metal sword and shield, the Lady Lucinda with her long, blonde hair and brocade dress, the horse which was modelled on a pantomime horse and followed Saint George everywhere, and the minor characters. She was very conscious of Prentice at her elbow as she put them in their correct order of use and straightened their costumes, and when she told him which ones would be his, and he began to practise some of the voices quietly, she hid a grin.

'You know, these really are very good,' Prentice said. He began to pick up the puppets that he would be using, trying them on and working them experimentally. 'I think you've missed your vocation. They must have taken you hours and hours to make.'

'Yes, they did.' They had filled in the long winter evenings when she had sat on the floor of her flat with them and agonised over how she could make the horse's jaw move, and how to make the dragon's eyelids work. Some of her friends had helped with materials and sewing, and it had been Brian who had finally resolved the problem of the eyelids and jaw. 'But I enjoyed it.' They seemed to have left the incident of the pond behind and Dani was glad.

'What will you do with them when this is all over?' Prentice put Saint George down and lifted the dragon again. It seemed to be his favourite.

'I really don't know. Use them again next year, perhaps.'

'That's a pity. They should be displayed somewhere. They really are superb.'

The praise was genuine, Dani was sure of that, and she felt colour creep into her cheeks at the open admiration in his voice. She ducked her head so that he should not see the blush and took a moment to wonder why he could so easily make her feel emotional. She picked up the horse hurriedly to mask her confusion and it slipped out of her hands. She made an ineffectual grab for it, found Prentice's hands there too, and between them they saved the horse from falling to the ground.

'Whew!' Dani let her breath out in a gasp of relief. 'Thanks.'

Somehow Prentice's fingers were all mixed up with hers as they both retained a grip on the puppet. Dani felt the warmth of his skin, the strength that he seemed to manage to hide so well, and she was even aware of the fine hairs that sprinkled the back of his hand.

'Will you take him or shall I?' His voice interrupted her exploration of the sense of touch and she dropped her eyelashes so that he should not see her expression.

'I've got him.' She grasped the puppet firmly and his fingers slid away, but slowly as if he was as reluctant to break the contact as she was. As the thought crossed Dani's mind, she glanced involuntarily up at him and in the swift movement she caught sight of a look of intensity in his face. Then it was gone and he grinned at her.

'Can we run through this?' he asked. 'So that I know exactly what I'm doing?'

'Of course.'

Dani was surprised and delighted with the amount of concentration that Prentice put into his attempt to master the puppets and absorb the script. Some people, she knew, might not have thought it important if there was a hitch in the play, but he wanted it perfect and Dani admired his determination.

'Okay,' he said at last. 'I think I've got the hang of some of it now. Can we try out the booth?'

'Yes, that's a good idea.'

Prentice held the back flap of the tent-like structure open while Dani positioned the puppets and kicked off her high-heeled sandals, then he let it drop and came to stand beside her. At once it became obvious that the top of his head could be seen from outside and Dani clicked her tongue in disappointment.

'You're too tall,' she said disconsolately, 'I'd forgotten that. Les is an inch taller than me and I'm only five foot six. You must be over six feet.'

'Around that,' he admitted. 'How about this?'

He bent his knees until his face was level with Dani's. She had never been so close to him before, and in the sultry dimness of their confinement, his eyes gleamed like a cat's.

'It takes nearly half an hour to get through,' she said helplessly. 'You'll never be able to stay like that.'

'Do you have a better idea?' His lips formed the words and Dani stared at them as though mesmerised. He was just too close. Their shoulders were touching, he had to turn his body slightly to fit his length into the narrowness of the booth, and his face was so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

'No,' she admitted honestly. 'I don't.'

'Well then . . .' He shrugged slightly. 'I'll have to put up with it.'

Dani wondered why she had never noticed before how cramped the booth was. Certainly Les Whelen was only about her height and very slim, but Prentice seemed like a
giant in the land of Lilliput as he tried to adjust his height and turn round a little more so that he could reach his puppets.

'Oh, this is impossible!' she burst out. 'You can't do it, Prentice. You'll get cramp…'

'I can do it.' There was steely determination in his voice. 'If you could have got someone else then I'd have been the last person you'd have asked. Right?'

'Right,' she admitted, and she shifted a little in the booth to try and put a little distance between them, banging her arm sharply on the shelf as she did so. She bit back a yelp of pain and heard him smother a laugh. 'It isn't funny!' she snapped. 'I'm just trying to give you some more room.'

'Oh, yeah?' He drawled the words. 'Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm quite enjoying it, in fact. What could be more fun than spending a summer afternoon in a tent that's more like a sauna with a pretty puppeteer?' Laughter lines appeared at the corners of his eyes and she stared at him uncertainly, totally unsure of whether he was being sarcastic or if he really meant what he said.

'We have to do the play twice,' she warned. 'Once in about fifteen minutes time and then again in an hour and a half. Are you sure that you….'

'I've told you I can!' This time the snap was quite unmistakable. 'I do appreciate the fact that you'd rather have your vet friend in here with you, but it's not my fault if he'd rather look at a sick cow.' In his annoyance just a hint of a Scottish brogue appeared in his voice. Dani noticed it, liked it, and spoke placatingly.

'Actually, it's a horse. And he has a wife and two children. I'm only thinking of you . . .'

'Well, don't. You concentrate on what you're supposed
to be doing, Miss Robertson, and I'll get out of here for ten minutes and go through that script again.'