Stormspell Read online

  'Then go ahead,' Ruth suggested, letting her fingers lie pliant within his. 'I'd like to try my hand at skating, actually, so why don't we both do what we want?'

  Martin sighed. 'Somehow I get the feeling my mother wouldn't approve,' he brooded doubtfully. 'This weekend was supposed to throw us together.'

  Ruth sipped her wine. 'We'll have every evening,' she pointed out reasonably, and she could see Martin was attracted by the prospect of some exciting sport.

  In consequence, Ruth passed Saturday morning in company with a crowd of other would-be skiers, learning the rudimentary rules of the exercise, and after lunching alone at one of the ubiquitous pastry houses, spent the afternoon touring the shops. The richness and variety of the goods on sale quite took her breath away, and she spent a long time admiring a chunky cream sweater, patterned in shades of blue and green and yellow, thinking how attractive it would look on Dominic. She had tried very hard not think of him. She had determined that once she left England she would put him out of her mind. But this morning, after a restless night tossing in the comfortable hotel bed. she had felt so sick and miserable she had realised that she was fooling herself by imagining that distance would achieve what proximity could not.

  She went back to the hotel around five, changed into her bathing suit, and took a swim in the pool. She and Martin had used the pool the night before, but she was still a little nervous about doing things alone. Nevertheless, it was all part of her intention to prove herself independent, and she swam the length of the pool a couple of times before climbing out on to the side.

  'It's Miss Jason, isn't it?'

  She looked up in surprise at the friendly question, then relaxed as she recognised Herr Ferrier. The young ski instructor was obviously just on his way to take a swim, and she smiled politely at him as she returned his greeting.

  'You're leaving?' he asked, with some regret.

  'What a pity! I should have welcomed your company.'

  Ruth knew Herr Ferrier was an Austrian, but his English was very good, and his smiling attention was just what she needed. 'I'm sorry, too,' she answered, loosening her hair from its knot, so that it fell silkily about her shoulders. 'Excuse me—I have to go and change.'

  'Later—' he said, as she started to walk away, and she looked back at him puzzlingly. 'Join me for a drink later,' he amended, in the apres-ski lounge. 'We could share a dish of fondue, no?'

  Ruth hesitated. 'I don't know—'

  Herr Ferrier frowned. He was very good-looking, square-shouldered, and muscular; very athletic. He was evidently used to having success with the girls he selected. Ruth guessed shrewdly, but she was not offended by his persistence.

  'Please,' he said. 'I shall be there in—thirty minutes. Do not disappoint me.'

  Ruth smiled. 'My cousin may have other plans.'

  Herr Ferrier shrugged. 'Bring her with you.' he declared expansively, and Ruth's lips twitched.

  'I'll bring—him. shall I?' she suggested, and with the lightning courtesy of his race, the Austrian performed a little bow.

  it will be my pleasure,' he assured her gallantly, and Ruth went to put on her towelling robe, with a certain lifting of her spirits.

  In the event, it was an entertaining evening. There proved to be quite a number of young people gathered together in the lounge, and as they all seemed to know the young Austrian, Ruth and Martin were absorbed into their group. Dinner was a casual meal, - taken buffet style, from the dish of fondue they all shared. Squatting on cushions, dipping squares of bread into the cheesy concoction in the centre, interspersing it with glasses of chilled white wine, Ruth relaxed for the first time since Dominic had driven her home, and the enormous log fire that blazed merrily in the wide hearth brought a glow of health and vitality to her cheeks.

  'You are enjoying yourself, yes?'

  She became aware that Martin had moved away to talk to some people he had been skiing with that afternoon, and his place had been taken by the Austrian. Herr Ferrier was looking at her very intently, his blue eyes bright in the glow from the fire, his fair good looks accentuated by the healthiness of his tan. It was strange, she thought inconsequently, how much different two fair-haired people could be. Herr Ferrier's hair was golden-blond, not silver, and his eyes were Nordic blue, not amber; but most particularly, his skin was fair, tanned a golden brown, while Dominic's was sallow, and darkly pigmented. Yet, despite the Austrian's classical beauty, it was Dominic she preferred, and his hard, lean body was infinitely more disturbing than Herr Ferrier's rippling muscles.

  'You are not enjoying yourself?' he enquired now. when she didn't answer him, and she hastened to restore his opinion.

  'Oh, yes,' she said, cradling her glass between her palms. 'I'm having a lovely evening, thank you. Herr Ferrier.'

  'My name is Johann,' he told her softly. 'And your name. I know, is Ruth. Surely we can omit the formalities for once. I would very much like you to use my name.'

  'All right—Johann,' Ruth smiled. 'I'm not used to ceremony either. Tell me, do you live here?'

  'In Grensberg? No,' he shook his head, 'my home is in Innsbruck. My father has a printing business there. But me, I like to ski, and I am afraid my family despairs of me.'

  Ruth was interested. 'But one day you'll go back, won't you? To the printing business, I mean.'

  'Perhaps.' He shrugged. 'When I am no longer young. When I cannot ski the glacier.' He paused. 'And you? What do you do? Do you live in London?'

  Ruth hesitated. 'London, yes,' she conceded slowly. 'And I'm afraid I don't do anything, not right now. anyway. But—but I hope to.'

  'Ah. I see. You have just left school, no?' Johann nodded, and Ruth decided to let him think so. 'It is good to be young, and have one's whole life in front of one.' He glanced at Martin. 'But Mr Pascal, your cousin, he is your friend, no?'

  'My friend?' Ruth frowned. 'Yes. Martin and I are friends. Why do you ask?'

  'Ah. you misunderstand me,' declared Johann quietly. 'In my way, I am asking whether he is your lover also.' His eyes caressed her. 'But I am persuaded that he is not.'

  Ruth was glad the heat of the fire hid her blushes, and she was relieved when Martin came to join them. His presence precluded any further intimacies, and when he yawned and said he was ready for bed, she eagerly went with him.

  As they went up to their rooms, however, Martin had other matters to concern him. 'Did you see that tall blonde girl in the red and white catsuit?' he asked her earnestly. 'The one with the huge gold hoops in her ears? I was skiing with her and her brother this afternoon, and she's really terrific!'

  'Is she?' Ruth glanced wryly at him, and he gave her an involuntary hug.

  'She's a terrific athlete,' he exclaimed enthusiastically. 'A natural on skis. You should come and watch her tomorrow. You could go up and down on the lift—I'd take care of you.'

  'No, thanks.' Ruth shook her head. She had had experience of Martin's taking care of her at the racetrack near London. His ideas of looking after someone amounted to taking them where he wanted to go. and then leaving them to their own devices for hours on end. She had no desire to spend a freezing couple of hours up on the high slopes, with nothing between her and the valley but empty wastes of tree-scattered snow. 'I told you, I want to try the ice rink. You go with—with—'

  '—Val and David.' Martin put in for her, and she nodded.

  'Yes. you go with Val and David.' she acknowledged lightly. 'Don't worry about me.'

  'I think that Herr what's-his-name fancies you,' interjected Martin suddenly. 'You watch yourself with him. I don't trust these professional sportsmen.'

  'Noj do I,' returned Ruth mischievously, looking at him. and Martin gave her a punishing slap on her tail, before she disappeared into her room.

  Sunday was much like Saturday, except that Ruth slept longer in the morning, and awakened feeling decidedly unwell. She guessed the altitude didn't agree with her, and making her own way to the coffee shop, refused everything but milk and wheat flakes.
r />   After breakfast, she felt much better, and collecting her gloves and parka, she made her way across the busy square to where the ice rink was attracting a small crowd. Several of the professional skaters from the hotel were giving a small display, but after they were finished and the audience had applauded, the ice was given over to the amateurs, and Ruth went to hire some skates.

  'May I accompany you?'

  It was Johann Ferrier again, at her elbow, his smiling face full of confidence. She guessed he must have been waiting for her to join his skiing class, but when she didn't turn up, he had decided to look for her.

  'I'm only going to try and skate,' she exclaimed reluctantly. 'I've never been on skates before. I'm sure you'll be awfully bored.'

  'Allow me to be the best judge of that,' he declared, taking her arm. 'Come, I have some skates I can lend you over here. There is no need for you to stand in line.'

  Ruth submitted to his eager ministrations, calculating that nothing untoward could happen on an ice rink. Afterwards, she intended going straight back to the hotel, and Herr Ferrier could find someone else to charm.

  It was a little scary on the ice. Her feet kept running away with her, and she clung desperately to the railings that surrounded the rink, refusing Johann's pleas to her to trust him.

  'You will never learn how to skate by hanging on to railings!' he exclaimed impatiently. 'You must let your body go where your feet will take it. Learn how to balance on your own two feet. See—it is easy!'

  'For you. maybe.' Ruth insisted, glancing about her unhappily. 'I can't keep my balance. It's no good.'

  'Did you never have the—what do you call them? —roller skates, when you were a little girl?' he demanded incredulously, and Ruth's brows drew together.

  'Roller-skates?' she echoed blankly, and Johann raised his eyes skyward in evident exasperation.

  'Where have you been living?' he exclaimed, half in humour, half in irritation. 'On a desert island?'

  Ruth felt the hot colour surge into her cheeks, and misunderstanding her reaction, Johann apologised. 'I am sorry.' he said. 'I should not have said that. It is only that you are—how shall I say?—so timid!'

  Timid! Ruth's teeth clamped together. Was that really what she was—timid? She took a deep breath. If someone who had only known her for a little over twenty-four hours thought she was timid, how could she gxpect Aunt Davina. who knew her so much better, to consider her capable of being independent?

  'What do you want me to do?' she asked now. cautiously removing one hand from the railings and putting it on Johann's sleeve.

  'Ah. that is better.' he approved, grasping her hand in his and drawing her resistingly towards him.

  'Now—so—come to me,' and seconds later she was gliding over the ice and into his arms.

  It was a not unpleasant sensation, and excited by her own success, she did not object too strongly to his enveloping hold. On the contrary, by leaning on him, she found she could move steadily round the ice, and instead of clinging like a schoolgirl to the railings, she glided smoothly over the icy surface.

  'It is fun, is it not?' he breathed, his lips against her hair, and she had to admit it was. Compared to her childish attempts at skiing, and her earlier stubbornness on the rink, this was exhilarating, and in no time at all she could balance holding only his hand.

  'Thank you.' she said breathlessly, as they circled the ice for the umpteenth time, and she began to appreciate the time he was devoting to her, and Johann skated closer.

  'You can thank me this evening,' he said, touching her cheek with a gloved finger. 'There is to be music and dancing at the hotel, and I am reserving the right to your company.'

  Ruth made no objection. After all, she and Martin were going home tomorrow. It was good to relax and let oneself go. She would think of the future when she got back to London.

  The accident happened as they were leaving the ice. Johann was skating ahead, pulling her after him, when a pair of skaters coming too fast, collided with them. The impact tore Johann's hand from Ruth's grasp, and she found herself spinning backwards across the ice. groping and flailing, and desperately trying to regain her balance.

  She didn't. She came down heavily on to the ice, twisting her wrist and cracking her head, and sliding several feet farther, as the momentum carried her on.

  Mouthing curses, Johann reached her first, kneeling beside her and chafing her hands in his. 'Ruth, liebling,' he muttered in his distress. 'Ach, die Idioten, sie haben kein Verstand.'

  'I'm all right, really.' Ruth sat up gingerly, rubbing her head, it was just the shock I got.' She looked up at him ruefully. 'And after all your good work!'

  Johann shook his head impatiently, and helped her to her feet. 'Idioten,' he said again, glowering angrily at the two boys who had caused the accident, standing anxiously on the edge of the gathering group of skaters. 'They are so reckless. You could have been knocked senseless!'

  'But I wasn't,' Ruth reassured him firmly. Nevertheless, she did feel decidedly unsteady, and she allowed him to remove her skates before they walked back across the ice. Her back still hurt, her head was starting to ache, and she wanted nothing so much as to lie down for a while, and she was grateful that Johann took her straight back to the hotel and advised her to rest for the afternoon.

  'I will see you this evening,' he promised, bidding her goodbye at the foot of the stairs, and Ruth managed a smile before making her painful way upstairs.

  She missed lunch, feeling too stiff to make the effort to go downstairs again, and when Martin returned in the late afternoon he came looking for her.

  'What happened?' he exclaimed, examining her pale features with anxious eyes, and after she had told him: 'Have you seen a doctor?'

  'A doctor?' Ruth looked incredulous. 'Honestly. Martin, a doctor, after falling on the ice!'

  'Why not after falling on the ice? You could have done yourself some damage. Slipped a disc or something.'

  'Oh. you're very reassuring, aren't you?' she exclaimed impatiently. 'My back just feels stiff, that's all. And I have a headache. I don't need a doctor.'

  'I'm not so sure.' Martin regarded her thoughtfully. 'I know Mother would insist on it.'

  'Your mother's not here.'

  'No. but I am. And I'm supposed to be looking after you.' retorted Martin severely, obviously anticipating what his mother's reaction might be if she learned that Ruth had had an accident on the skating rink, while he was enjoying himself on the steeper slopes.

  'Oh. all right.' Ruth gave in. In actual fact, she thought she would welcome something to get rid of her headache, and she didn't want to spoil their last evening. 'Call the doctor. Cover all possibilities.'

  Martin pulled a face at her sarcasm, but he was evidently relieved to be able to summon professional advice, and within half an hour a Doctor Kaufmann presented himself at her door.

  'I understand you had a skating accident, fraiilein' he said, coming over the the bed where she was lying. 'I think I had better do a thorough examination. That young man of yours is most concerned for your welfare.'

  Ruth didn't trouble to explain that Martin was not exactly her young man. but her cousin. It wasn't important what Doctor Kaufmann thought, she decided, struggling to unfasten her sweater. Like Johann. he could form his own opinion.

  Some minutes later. Ruth was beginning to wish Martin had never started this. The doctor's examination was certainly comprehensive, she thought disagreeably, resenting his professional hands upon her body, prodding and probing, and making her feel uncomfortable.

  However, when Doctor Kaufmann straightened, and told her she could replace her clothes, his face was rather solemn, and mild panic flared inside her. Surely she didn't need hospital treatment? she thought anxiously. Surely the ache in her spine was only muscular? Why was he looking at her as if she was to blame?

  'Is—is everything all right, doctor?' she asked at last, unable to bear the suspense any longer, and he turned away to replace his stethoscope in his bag.<
br />
  'You have been lucky this time, fraulein,' he told her, snapping the bag shut. 'But I suggest you refrain from taking such unnecessary risks.'

  Ruth breathed a sigh of relief. 'I know. I'd never skated before, you see,' she explained hurriedly. 'Then these two boys collided with me—' She shook her head. 'I lost my balance.'

  'Yes, well, I would advise you not to do anything so reckless again,' remarked the doctor, softening a little. 'Young women in your condition are usually more concerned for themselves, but I suppose, like everything else, they object to the limitations put on them by their sex.'

  He moved politely towards the door, but Ruth could not let him go like that. His words had not made sense to her, and she put a hand to her throat as a thought occurred to her. is—is something wrong with me, doctor?' she asked, her voice squeaking a little over the last words, and his dark brows descended in mild impatience.

  'Wrong with you? No, nothing is wrong. It should be a perfectly normal pregnancy, so long as—'

  'A—what?'

  Ruth swung her legs to the floor then, and stared at him in wild disbelief. She didn't really need him to repeat it to know what he said, but the reality of it was so stunning, she needed those few moments to restore her sense of balance.

  Doctor Kaufmann frowned, however. 'Did you not know, Miss Jason?' He shook his head. 'Hah, you must have done!' Ruth moved her hand in a helpless gesture of denial, and he came abruptly back to her. 'You did not know? But how could you not know? Have you not missed at least two—how do you say it?—the periods, no?'

  Ruth's lips parted. Had she? Had she? She couldn't think. When she lived on the island, she had seldom thought about it, accepting the slight discomfort naturally when it came, and dismissing it from her mind at other times. She had never studied its regularity, or marked the date on the calendar. Living with her father, she had no one to discuss it with but Celeste, and even she had never paid it a lot of attention.

  But now, sitting here in this Alpine hotel bedroom, she acknowledged that she could not remember having any discomfort since she came to live with Aunt Davina, and the inevitable conclusion to that awareness turned all her bones to water. Dominic, she thought faintly; she was going to have Dominic's baby. And fast on the heels of this thought came another—she could never tell him!