Stormspell Read online

  'What's going on here?' Professor Jason's impatient tones broke into the proceedings. 'Mr Howard.' He greeted the younger man without enthusiasm. 'So you're up and about again. I'm pleased to see it. No doubt you'll be' leaving us now.'

  Dominic's expression was wry. 'No doubt,' he agreed politely. 'How are you, sir? I understand from Ruth that you've been unwell yourself.'

  Professor Jason met his daughter's anxious eyes. 'Yes,' he said at last. 'Yes, I do suffer a little indigestion from time to time. I'm grateful for your enquiry, but I'm quite well now, thank you.'

  'Can I get you some coffee, Daddy?' Ruth asked, moving restlessly from one foot to the other, but her father shook his head.

  'No. No, my dear, I just came to find out what was wrong. I was trying to work, but the—er—sound of your voices—'

  'I'm sorry. Daddy—' Ruth began awkwardly, but Dominic overrode her apology.

  it was my fault, sir,' he assured the other man quietly. 'I was asking Celeste where I might hire some transport to get about the island, and your daughter was endeavouring to persuade me that it was foolhardy to attempt to ride a motorcycle.'

  'I agree with her.' The Professor's mouth tightened. 'You'll be leaving here today or tomorrow, Mr

  Howard. Could you not contain your—er—boredom until you get back to Barbados?'

  'It's not boredom, sir.' Dominic stood his ground. 'I'm interested to see whether the yacht has surfaced on your coastline. To find out if there's anything worth salvaging.'

  Professor Jason frowned, is this a new idea. Mr Howard? Forgive me. but I don't recall your showing any interest earlier.'

  Dominic shrugged. 'Had I been fit enough to leave soon after my arrival, I'd have organised a search to be made. As it is, what with the delay and so on. I thought I might take a look for myself.'

  Ruth's father digested this in silence, then he shrugged. 'I can't forbid you to do whatever you think fit, Mr Howard, but it seems to me exceedingly reckless to attempt to ride a motor-cycle in your condition.'

  Dominic expelled his breath heavily. 'Yes. sir.'

  'So what do you intend to do?'

  Dominic glanced thoughtfully at Ruth, then he moved his shoulders in an offhand gesture. 'I'll leave with Doctor Francis this afternoon,' he said, unknowingly sending Ruth's spirits plummeting to earth. 'I understand your feelings. Professor, and if any salvage operation is undertaken. I'll ensure that it "Causes you as little upheaval as possible.' He paused. 'I can't begin to thank you—and your daughter—and Celeste, of course—for what you've done for me, and I wish there was some way I could repay you. If there's anything you want—'

  'There's nothing,' said Ruth's father firmly. 'We're glad to have been of service.' He paused. 'As to your boat, I must say I have grave doubts of its being washed up on our shores. It's much more likely to have been carried farther west, if indeed it survived the storm.'

  Dominic absorbed this, his expression unreadable. Then, with a faint smile, he inclined his head. 'You're probably right. Professor,' he consented politely, but Ruth, meeting his enigmatic gaze, was less convinced of his sincerity. It seemed to her that her father was taking an unnecessarily pessimistic view of the situation, and that Dominic, for reasons best known to himself, was only choosing to endorse it.

  'Good. Good.' Her father was evidently satisfied that he had convinced the other man of the futility of his quest. 'I think I will have some coffee now, Ruth. You can bring it to me in the study.' He paused, glancing significantly at Dominic, before going on: 'I'd like your help with these translations, my dear. I'm afraid you've made a lot of errors. We'll go over them together, shall we?'

  Ruth knew she should feel relief at being rescued from a difficult situation, but shamefully, she didn't. In spite of herself, she found her exchanges with Dominic stimulating, and the excitement he generated alerted every nerve in her body. Knowing he was leaving that afternoon was like facing a gaping chasm, with no way round it, and no future in it. It was useless to pretend anything could ever be the same after he had gone. Suddenly she was aware of herself as she had never been before, and his departure would take something from her that could never be regained.

  She left Dominic tucking into the plate of eggs Celeste had prepared for him, conscious of his eyes upon her as she made her way out of the door. She wondered what he was really thinking, and whether he believed what her father had told him. Whatever the truth of that situation, she was never likely to know.

  Her father chose not to mention his conversation with Dominic. Perhaps he thought he had said enough, or maybe he was reluctant to bring up a subject which was obviously a source of contention. In the event, he concentrated instead on the chapters of Ovid Ruth had translated, showing her, whether he intended to do so or not, how disruptive this upheaval in their lives had been to her work.

  Dominic joined them for lunch, but it was not a comfortable meal, with Ruth constantly aware of the antagonism between them, and reluctant to add to it by revealing Dominic's real identity. She had come to the conclusion that there was nothing to be gained by upsetting her father further, and as Dominic did not refer to it, neither did she.

  After lunch, the weariness in her father's face was evident, and she suggested that he should rest for a while.

  'I'll wake you when Doctor Francis arrives,' she promised, when he protested, and after a moment's consideration he gave in.

  'Very well,' he agreed heavily. 'But I shall depend on you not to leave the house while I'm lying down.' His meaning was obvious, and as if to add to it, he went on: 'Perhaps you might like to correct the mistakes we discovered this morning. Your work has certainly suffered from a lack of concentration.'

  Ruth nodded. 'All right.' She saw the sardonic slant of Dominic's mouth, but ignored it. 'Now do go and rest. Daddy. Doctor Francis will be here soon.'

  Gathering their dirty dishes on to a tray ready for carrying into the kitchen, Ruth was aware she had Dominic's attention once more. He was still sitting at the table, observing her ministrations, making no effort to go and gather together the few belongings Joseph had supplied for him.

  'So it's goodbye.' he remarked at last, toying with an unused piece of cutlery. 'I guess you won't be sorry to see me go.'

  Ruth clattered a spoon on to the tray. 'I'm glad you're well enough to leave,' she murmured, her eyes downcast, and he made a sound of impatience.

  'That's not what I meant, and you know it,' he said harshly. 'I just wish—' He broke off abruptly, tossing the fork he had been torturing aside. Then he pushed back his chair and got to his feet, his rubber-soled shoes blocking her path to the door. 'Ruth, you can't waste the rest of your youth playing nursemaid to that old man!'

  Ruth stiffened, drawing back from him. 'That old man, as you call him, is my father,' she declared frigidly.

  'I know that.' Dominic sighed. 'I have a father, too. And a mother, as it happens. But Jake and I. we don't always see eye to eve. and he knows it.'

  'Jake?' '

  'My father, James Crown. You remember?'

  'You call him by his Christian name?' Ruth was appalled.

  'On occasion,' said Dominic irritably. 'It's what everybody calls him. I guess he likes it that way.'

  'But don't you call him—Daddy?'

  Dominic grimaced. 'Dad—sometimes,' he conceded dryly. 'But that's not important. We're getting away from the point of what I'm trying to say, and that is—parents don't own their children. They expect loyalty, of course, and respect, if they deserve it, but not blind, unthinking obedience!'

  Ruth was shocked. 'I care for my father, Mr Howard—or Mr Crown—whatever your name is.' She took a deep breath. 'I don't consider my life wasted. I love my father. I'd do anything for him.'

  'I know that.' Dominic shook his head. 'All I'm saying is, you can love someone without sacrificing yourself in the process.' He sighed. 'I'm not doing this very well, I know, but have you ever asked yourself who benefits most from your living here? How unselfish is he. depriving you
of a normal adolescence?'

  'I don't want to talk about this any more,' declared Ruth tautly, picking up the tray and holding it between them like a shield. 'Now, if you'll excuse me—'

  Dominic hesitated, but eventually he stepped aside, watching her go. his hands pushed deep into the hip pockets of his jeans. Ruth brushed past him angrily, resentful of his ability to use words to confuse her. Obviously her father was right to mistrust him. He had few scruples, and absolutely no reverence for his parents—so why did she still feel drawn to him, in a way that she instinctively knew could bring her nothing but pain . . .

  The afternoon wore on, but when Celeste came to find her with a jug of deliciously iced lime juice, Doctor Francis had still not made an appearance.

  'What time is it. Celeste?' Ruth asked, eagerly- gulping down the fruit juice before wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 'Gosh, that was good! It's so hot in here!'

  Celeste looked round the stuffy little room with distaste. 'What for you working on Mr Howard's last afternoon?' she demanded, with a scornful gesture. 'He leaving soon. Can't you at least talk nicely to him?'

  Ruth sighed. 'I asked what time it was, Celeste. Is there no sign of Doctor Francis? He's usually here by now, isn't he?'

  'It near five o'clock.' declared Celeste sulkily. 'And ain't no sign of that there doctor. Seems like he ain't coming today. Your daddy ain't going to like that.'

  Ruth's pulses unaccountably quickened. 'Five o'clock?' she echoed, licking the lime juice from her upper lip. is Daddy still resting?'

  'Yes'm.' Celeste moved towards the door, the heated scent of her body musky in the afternoon air. 'You coming out now? Or is you going to hide in here for the rest of the day?'

  'I'm not hiding,' protested Ruth indignantly. Then, aware of Celeste's scepticism, she said: 'All right. Where is Mr Howard? I'll ask him if he'd like some tea.'

  'Mr Howard, he drinking a cool beer,' asserted Celeste with confidence. 'Sitting on that verandah, where he been all afternoon.'

  Ruth acknowledged this with a nod of her head, and after Celeste had made a reluctant departure, she left her cubbyhole and emerged into the living room. It was cooler in the larger room, and cooler still in the hall, with the breeze drifting through the open doorway. She could see Dominic at once, seated in one of the basketweave chairs, his feet propped on the verandah rail, an empty can of lager hanging loosely from his fingers.

  'Hello.' she greeted him, stepping out of the shadows, and with a lithe, easy movement he swung his legs to the floor and got to his feet.

  'Hi.' he responded civilly. 'Finished studying?'

  'For the present.' she conceded, walking to the rail and resting her palms upon it. it's been a beautiful afternoon, hasn't it?'

  'Has it?'

  He was not making it easy for her, and she glanced at him over her shoulder. 'Doctor Francis didn't come.'

  'Apparently not.'

  'I wonder why?'

  'I guess he didn't realise it was that urgent.' he remarked brusquely, it looks as if you're stuck with me until tomorrow.'

  Ruth half turned. 'I—we don't mind.' she murmured, but it was evident from his expression that he didn't believe her.

  Ruth turned to look back at the ocean. She was guiltily aware that her father had not minced his words earlier, and it could not be pleasant being confined in a place where one felt one was not wanted. But her father was old—and sick—she excused him quickly, unwilling to indulge in any criticism of her parent, even if his reception of their visitor had been less than enthusiastic.

  'So,' she persisted now, trying to act casually, 'what have you been doing all afternoon?'

  'Well, not looking for the remains of my boat,' Dominic assured her dryly. 'I went for a walk, actually. but not too far. You should have come with me. I found a pelican's nest.'

  'Did you?' Ruth turned eagerly to face him, resting her slim thighs against the wooden balustrade. 'Where was it? Along the beach? I know there's a colony there. You should see them diving for fish.' She laughed, forgetting for the moment to whom she was talking. 'They swoop down like meteors!' She made a swooping motion of her hand. 'They practically submerge themselves in the water.'

  'I know.' Dominic's tawny eyes narrowed as they rested on the animated curve of her face, and she was momentarily hypnotised by his intent gaze. Then he looked abruptly away, moving his shoulders in a dismissing gesture and saying briefly: 'I spent some time in Florida last year. They're common enough there.'

  She sensed his withdrawal, and was hurt by it. Somehow it was always like this between them, she thought, wishing she was more experienced, more sophisticated. Here she was. telling him things he could probably tell her. and more comprehensively. The trouble was. although she was well educated, she was not experienced, and she hadn't anything to say that was new or original.

  As if aware of her confusion, he left her then, excusing himself to go into the house. She guessed he was going to seek the solitude of his room, and left, staring at an empty chair, Ruth felt an overwhelming sense of inadequacy suddenly. Compared to his, her life did seem pointless, somehow, and with insight she realised why her father objected so strongly to their association. He was afraid Dominic might influence her, and while she might argue against this, undeniably, he had.

  Father Andreas arrived in the early evening, and with some relief Ruth invited him to stay for supper.

  'Doctor Francis was supposed to come this afternoon,' she confided to the elderly priest, as they waited for her father to join them. 'But he didn't arrive, and I know Daddy would welcome your company.'

  Father Andreas looked less convinced of this, but Professor Jason's attitude when he came to greet the priest was more enthusiastic than usual, and he was disarmed.

  'Of course, stay to supper,' he urged, when he heard of Ruth's invitation. 'I'm sure our guest will be glad of alternative companionship, and it's some time since we shared a bottle of wine.'

  Father Andreas smiled. 'As you say. Professor,' he affirmed, with quiet acceptance, and Ruth was relieved that the uneasy threesome of lunch was not to be repeated.

  Dominic joined them soon after, and over dinner, he and Father Andreas discussed the Greek's homeland. It appeared that Dominic knew Salonika quite well, and he was willing to answer the priest's questions, and reassure him that the city had been completely restored to its former glory.

  'So many Byzantine churches,' exclaimed Father Andreas, spreading his hands. 'So much beauty, so much devastation. The history of Salonika is the history of the world.'

  'The city is called Thessaloniki now,' Dominic remarked ruefully, but Father Andreas was not to be moved.

  'Salonika it will always be for me,' he declared staunchly, and Professor Jason scoffed a little.

  'You don't move with the times, Andreas,' he commented provokingly. 'Like your religion, you're steeped in myths and legends: past victories, past glories; when are you going to accept that this is the twentieth century?'

  Father Andreas was not offended. 'Perhaps I am a little old-fashioned,' he acknowledged, with a shrug of his thin shoulders. 'But so are you. or you would not be living here, allowing your undoubted talents as a teacher to go to waste.'

  Professor Jason frowned, not caring for this turn of the conversation. 'Mine was a question of priorities,' he declared crisply. 'Not an inability to cope with a world gone mad!'

  Father Andreas moved his head thoughtfully from side to side. 'Yes, yes,' he said, 'I suppose the world did go a little mad in 1940. But my faith did not falter.'

  'Your faith!' Professor Jason shook his head. 'How can you believe in all that mumbo-jumbo!'

  'Daddy!'

  Ruth's protest was instinctive, but Father Andreas only smiled. 'Your father and I have had this argument many times, my child.' he told her gently. 'Unfortunately, he will only see what his eyes tell him is true. He does not allow the belief that man is not the all-powerful being he thinks he is. Yet without that belief man is only half alive.'

>   'Another half truth. Andreas?' enquired the Professor scornfully. 'A man of intelligence can distinguish between fact and fiction, can bring a scientific mind to bear. We all know where we came from—'

  '—but it is where we are going that interests me,' retorted Father Andreas triumphantly, and Ruth, recognising the start of yet another theological debate, started to clear the table.

  The kitchen was empty when Ruth carried in the tray, and she was unloading the dirty dishes into the sink when she heard footsteps behind her. Glancing round, she found Dominic depositing two tureens on the table, and she forced a nervous smile when his eyes encountered hers.

  'Daddy's lecturing on his favourite subject,' she explained, half apologetically. 'He and Father Andreas always get around to religion sooner or later.-

  Dominic straightened, pushing his hands into the low waistband of his jeans. With his shirt unbuttoned at the collar to expose the brown column of his throat- his smooth silver-fair hair brushing the neckband at his nape, he emanated the kind of sexual attraction Ruth had hitherto never encountered, but that didn't prevent her from responding to it. On the contrary, she had never been more aware of him than she was tonight, and just watching him brought a disturbing unsteadiness to her knees.

  'Where's Celeste?' Dominic asked now. keeping his opinion of her father to himself, and Ruth shrugged.

  'I don't know.' she admitted, leaving the dishes to soak and drying her hands. 'Is there something you want? Perhaps I can get it for you.'

  'I don't think so.' Dominic looked thoughtfully round the kitchen, and as he did so they heard a squeal of excitement from outside. It was unmistakably Celeste, and Ruth beat Dominic to the door by only a hair's breadth. He came up hard behind her as she halted uncertainly on the threshold, and she didn't know which disturbed her most, the sight of Celeste, her skirts high above her knees on the back of her cousin's motor-cycle, or the compelling pressure of Dominic's muscled frame behind her.

  It was obvious that the black man in charge of the motor-cycle had coasted the last few yards. There had been no sound, and a motor-cycle's engine would have carried to the house. Clearly, Celeste had taken no notice of her employer's dictates, and she scrambled off now. giggling as she exposed more of her plump thighs.