Stormspell Read online

  Doctor Francis had paid a fleeting visit that afternoon, but although Ruth was disappointed, he refused to stay and eat with them. 'I promised Mary I'd take her out to dinner this evening,' he said, touching her cheek with a regretful finger, 'and besides. I doubt your father would welcome my company.'

  'Don't be silly.' Ruth spoke ruefully. 'You know what Daddy's like. He'll have forgotten all about your differences by now. and I know he enjoys your conversation.'

  'Well, maybe.' Doctor Francis acknowledged, nodding his head. 'But I really can't stay this evening. I've spent so much time working lately, and Mary deserves a break.'

  'Couldn't you bring her to supper one evening?' Ruth offered impulsively, even though her father had never made such a suggestion, but the doctor only smiled.

  'Have you given any thought to what I said yesterday?' he countered, reminding her of his invitation, and she sighed.

  'There really hasn't been time.' she demurred, moving her shoulders. 'Perhaps when—when Mr Howard leaves . . .'

  'Perhaps.' agreed the Scotsman, not pressing her. and went to examine his patients before she could say more.

  Professor Jason helped himself to a little soup now. from the tureen Celeste had placed on the table, and regarded his daughter thoughtfully.

  'Did Francis tell you our patient should be ready to leave in a day or two?' he asked, causing Ruth's fingers to tighten around her spoon. 'I for one shall be quite relieved. He's disrupted our lives far too much.'

  Ruth applied herself to breaking a roll, and then, realising he expected a response, she said: 'Celeste told me his arm was no longer inflamed. But Doctor Francis said he was very weak.'

  'Oh. he is.' Professor Jason's lips thinned. 'And I'm not suggesting he should leave here before he's capable of doing so. Nevertheless,' he spooned soup into his mouth, 'he's a disturbing influence on the household, and obviously he creates more work for Celeste.'

  Ruth bent her head. 'I could help her—'

  'No.' Her father was adamant. 'Celeste can manage. I have no intention of encouraging you to associate with that man. Whatever Francis says, you're far too young to be involved. You're not a nurse, and it's not at all suitable that you should enter his bedroom.'

  Ruth glanced up. 'Celeste does,' she ventured, but her lids lowered at her father's scathing stare.

  'Celeste's is an entirely different situation,' he retorted. 'She's older, for one thing, and in spite of your age and—er—innocence, I'm sure you're not unaware of her—well, for want of a better word— experience.'

  'No.' Ruth sighed.

  'So.' her father drew a deep breath, 'having settled that matter, there's something I want you to do for Mr Howard.'

  'There is?' Ruth looked up, her heart beating a little faster.

  'Yes.' Her father pushed his plate aside. 'I was talking to him earlier this evening, and he's quite concerned about this money he has had transferred to the bank in Kingstown. Obviously, as he didn't collect it as he expected, there may be some query.' He paused. 'I've agreed to send Joseph over to St Vincent again in the morning, but I think, reluctantly, that you ought to go along—for verification purposes. You'll have Howard's written authorisation, but you know what banks are like. They may become suspicious if Joseph attempts to withdraw any cash on Howard's behalf.'

  Ruth pressed her trembling hands together in her lap. 'He wants some money—withdrawn?'

  'Yes.' Her father frowned. 'He wants us to purchase him some clothes. I'm convinced that Joseph can attend to that, but it might be simpler if you spoke to Templar yourself.'

  'I see.' Ruth felt a ridiculous sense of excitement at the prospect of the unexpected outing. 'What—what does he want us to buy?'

  'You can leave that to Joseph,' replied Professor Jason firmly. 'I shall ask Howard to make a list. Your task is to explain the situation to Templar, and ensure that he treats the matter with confidence.'

  Ruth nodded, but her expression hid the fervency of her thoughts. There were shops in Kingstown, shops that sold cheap clothes, and she was mentally calculating how she could make the housekeeping money her father gave her stretch to at least one new dress.

  She hardly slept that night, she was too excited, and she was up and dressed as soon as it was light. It was almost a two-hour trip from Indigo to St Vincent, and she wanted to have plenty of time to do her shopping, after she had been to the bank. Joseph was easygoing. He wouldn't object if she went off on her own. And besides, he had his own instructions to follow.

  Celeste was already up when Ruth entered the kitchen, and she gave the girl an appraising look as she lifted the coffee pot off the stove.

  'You're just in time,' she declared, setting the pot on a tray she had already prepared. 'You can take this in to Mr Howard before you leave. I'se going to have my hands full while you off enjoying yourself in Kingstown.'

  Ruth hunched her shoulders. 'Celeste, you know what Daddy says—'

  'He say same thing yesterday, but that not stop you.' retorted the black woman tartly, pushing the tray towards her. 'Go on. give the man his breakfast. He ain't going to eat you.'

  Ruth hesitated. 'Is Daddy up yet?'

  'No.' Celeste shook her head. 'He still fast asleep. You and Joseph be long gone before he wake up. Hurry now—you ain't got all day.'

  Dominic was awake when Ruth carried the tray into the bedroom, and his eyes widened when he saw her. He had been lying down, but now he struggled up on to his pillows, patting the bed beside him when she would have set the tray across his knees.

  'I'll eat it later,' he said, the tawny eyes lazily intent as they surveyed her slender figure. 'You're up very early. I was expecting Celeste.'

  Ruth straightened after setting the tray down on the bed. and returned his stare with difficulty. 'She— she's busy.' she said, noticing how much younger he looked with the growth of beard shaved from his chin. 'How are you feeling this morning?'

  'All the better for seeing you,' he replied impudently, his eyes teasing her. 'Why didn't you come back yesterday? Did I say something to offend you?'

  'Of course not.' Ruth felt uncomfortable. 'I had work to do. that's all. In any case, I can see that Celeste provided you with a razor.'

  'Oh. yes.' He ran an exploring hand over his jaw- line. 'She takes good care of me.' He grimaced. 'I guess it's an improvement.'

  Ruth didn't know how to answer that. 'You look —much better,' she conceded. 'I expect you feel— more yourself.'

  'Indeed.' His tone was wry. 'I'm glad you like it.'

  Ruth's smile was stiff. 'Daddy used to have a beard once.' she volunteered irrelevantly. 'At least it saves you having to shave.'

  'That's true.' He inclined his head. 'A very shrewd observation.'

  Ruth pressed her lips together. 'You're being sarcastic. aren't you.?' she commented, wishing she had more experience in these matters, and he quirked a mocking brow.

  'Now why should you think that?' he countered, shifting to a more comfortable position. 'I thought I was behaving exceedingly well, considering the provocation of the situation.'

  Ruth bent her head. 'I'd better go. Is there anything else you need—anything else Celeste can get for you?'

  'I don't think so. Not right now.' The tawny eyes were narrowed. 'But you can tell me why you're in such a hurry to leave. I don't have the plague or anything, do 1?'

  Ruth's nervous system was not equipped to deal with this kind of conversation. 'I have to go.' she insisted, turning towards the door. 'I—I'm going to St Vincent with Joseph. He's probably waiting for me right now.'

  Dominic frowned. 'You're going to St Vincent? Not your father?'

  Ruth nodded. 'Daddy seldom leaves the island these days. As you've probably noticed, he's not well. He tires easily. He only goes to St Vincent when Doctor Francis sends him to the hospital there, for treatment.'

  'I see.' Dominic looked thoughtful. 'So you're going to speak to the bank manager?'

  'That's right.'

  'And are you going to buy
the clothes I need, too?' he enquired dryly.

  'No.' Ruth flushed. 'Joseph's going to do that.'

  Dominic nodded. 'But you'll be with him?'

  'I—I expect so.'

  He crossed his legs beneath the thin covering of the sheet. 'Good.' His eyes held her startled ones. 'Buy yourself a new shirt and shorts while you're there.'

  'I—I couldn't!' Ruth was horrified, but Dominic only shrugged.

  'Why not? You tore your tee-shirt up to make a tourniquet, didn't you? I owe it to you.'

  Ruth hovered in the open doorway, it's very kind of you, but it's not necessary, really.'

  Dominic's mouth twisted. 'I know it's not necessary.' he declared impatiently. 'But I'd like to do it.'

  Ruth only shook her head, and she was still shaking it after the door was closed and she was safely outside.

  St Vincent's capital, Kingstown, was a lively and busy port, and Ruth always found the activity on the quayside a source of enchantment and wonder. Island schooners unloading bananas and yams, breadfruit and coconuts, were a constant fascination, and the market place, where farmers and small traders came to sell their wares, was a kaleidoscope of life and colour.

  Ruth, waiting while Joseph secured their mooring, stared about her with wide eyes. There was so much to see and absorb, and she was totally unaware of the admiring glances cast in her direction. Her attention was all on the trans-Atlantic freighter being loaded with crates of fruit and vegetables, and she didn't notice the inquisitive interest of the sailors hanging over the rail until a loud whistle alerted her to their attention. Immediately the hot "blood stained her cheeks, and she was relieved when Joseph came to join her and she could get out of earshot of their insolent solicitations.

  'You gotta get used to this sort of thing. Missy.' Joseph told her. with his lazy grin. 'Less'n you don't want to come to Kingstown no more.'

  The International Bank stood in Grenville Street, and leaving Joseph to kick his heels outside. Ruth entered its imposing portals. She had been to the bank before. The income her father had from her grandmother's estate was transferred into Caribbean dollars at this branch, and Andrew Templar and her father had known one another for over ten years.

  If some of the younger members of the bank's staff viewed the girl in the shabby tee-shirt and cotton skirt rather doubtfully, the older tellers did not. and almost immediately she was recognised.

  'Miss Jason!' Edward Hollings. one of the senior cashiers, called her name. 'It's a while since we've seen you. Miss Jason. Is anything wrong?'

  'Oh, no.' Ruth smiled at the elderly man behind the desk. 'As a matter of fact. I just wanted to speak to Mr Templar, if I could. Is he available?'

  'I think he might be.' replied Mr Hollings. his eyes twinkling. 'You're a sight for sore eyes on this lovely morning, and no mistake. How is your father? I hear he still plays a mean game of chess.'

  Ruth's laughter was spontaneous. 'You must have been talking to Doctor Francis,' she said, resting her arms on the counter. 'He's the only person I know who could make that kind of statement.'

  'Yes.' Mr Hollings looked thoughtful for a moment. 'I suppose you don't see many people on that island of yours.'

  'No.' Ruth sobered. 'Would you see if Mr Templar is free? It is rather urgent.'

  Mr Hollings disappeared through the fluted screen door that divided the two sections of the accounting area, and Ruth straightened away from the desk. Did everyone think they lived a hermit-like existence? she wondered impatiently, realising she was becoming hyper-sensitive to that kind of comment. Just because a person didn't conform, there was no reason to imagine they were in any way extraordinary.

  'Miss Jason!'

  She swung round half guiltily, to find Andrew Templar at the cash-point, his lean, good-humoured face creased into a smile.

  'Won't you come through. Miss Jason?' he invited. swinging open the half door beside him, and with an embarrassed nod she complied. 'So,' he said, as they walked into his office. 'What can I do for you? Have you decided to open an account with us?'

  The office he showed her into was large and impressive. with a high arched ceiling and a veined marble floor. The square desk that occupied the centre of the floor was impressive too, its tooled leather surface liberally spread with papers and files. There was an In tray and Out tray, the former bearing witness to the amount of work still waiting to be done, and several coloured telephones, that added colour to an otherwise businesslike formality.

  Yet, in spite of these evident signs of industry, Andrew Templar seemed in no hurry to get down to business, and he insisted on ordering her coffee and asking about her father's health before pursuing the reasons for her being there.

  But at last he broached the subject that was foremost in her thoughts, saying shrewdly: 'I suppose your visit has to do with the matter your father wrote me about three days ago. I have to tell you. that young man has caused us no small degree of difficulty.'

  'You mean—Mr Howard? His transfer?'

  'I presume you mean Dominic Howard Crown. Yes. it has created—problems.'

  Ruth stared at him. 'Dominic—Howard—Crown?' she repeated slowly. 'You mean his name's not Dominic Howard after all?'

  'Oh. yes,' said Templar patiently. 'His Christian names are Dominic and Howard. He just omitted to mention that he was James Crown's son.'

  'James Crown?' Ruth felt she was being absurdly obtuse, but she couldn't help it. 'Who—who is James Crown?'

  'Don't you know?' Andrew Templar stared at her aghast. Then he shook his head. 'No. no. of course you probably wouldn't. Although I doubt your father is that unworldly.' He sighed. 'Ruth—I may call you Ruth, mayn't I?' And at her nod: 'Ruth—

  James Crown is the power behind Crown Chemicals, one of the most successful groups of companies in Europe!'

  Ruth's tongue circled her lips. 'But why—'

  'If you're going to ask why didn't your visitor give his real name, then your guess is as good as mine.' Andrew Templar made an aggravated gesture. 'Why do men like Crown like to keep their identities secret? I don't know. Unless, for publicity reasons, they prefer to remain incognito. I suppose that must have been his intention, although he must have known you were bound to find out.'

  Ruth frowned. 'Not necessarily,' she murmured after a moment, i mean, how would we have found out?'

  'Well.' said Andrew Templar reasonably, 'if he intended sending you here to collect his funds—'

  'But he didn't.' Ruth interrupted quickly. 'Not originally. He—well. I suppose he would have collected them himself yesterday. If he hadn't been taken ill.'

  'He's ill?' Andrew Templar looked concerned. "Look here, Ruth, if there's anything seriously wrong with young Crown, I'd suggest your father gets him to the hospital in Kingstown immediately. His family aren't going to take kindly to any complications of that kind, even if he did deliberately set out to deceive you.'

  He's all right now,' Ruth hastened to reassure him. catching her lower lip between her teeth in sudden uncertainty. 'He was sick. His arm—I suppose Joseph explained that he had injured his arm—well, it became infected, but Doctor Francis handled it without too much difficulty.'

  'My God!' Templar shook his head. 'To think old John's been treating James Crown's son! Wait till I see him. I'll have a few words to say—'

  'No, wait!' Ruth shifted uncomfortably. 'Daddy asked me to ask you to keep it in confidence.' She sighed. 'Those were Mr Howard's—Mr Crown's instructions.'

  'What?' He stared at her. 'But I've already had your Mr Crown's friends on the telephone this morning. demanding to know where he is and what's going on.'

  'And did you tell them?' Ruth held her breath.

  'Not yet.' He ran frustrated hands over his scalp. 'I was waiting to hear from Crown again. Your father's instructions were implicit, and I respected that confidence. But now. with the Crowns breathing down my neck. I'm not so sure.'

  Ruth was finding it extremely difficult to come to any decision. This was a contingency her father
had not prepared her for. and despite what Mr Templar said she doubted he was aware of Dominic's real identity.

  'I think you ought to do as—as Mr Crown suggests,' she averred at last. 'If he does want to keep his whereabouts to himself. I don't think you can do anything other than comply.'

  Andrew Templar sighed heavily. 'You're right, of course. I can't reveal the information without his permission. But perhaps you can explain the situation to him and urge him to think again. It would certainly make things easier for me.'

  Ruth nodded. 'Naturally, I'll do what I can.'

  'And you're sure he's fit again?'

  'Not entirely.' She tried to be honest. 'Doctor Francis says he's still very weak. It was blood poisoning. you see. But he's definitely improving.'

  'I hope for your sake that you're right,' remarked Andrew Templar dryly. 'I'd hate to be in your shoes if anything happened to him.' He shook his head. 'I doubt if even Indigo would be remote enough to save you from the outcry that would evoke. Not to mention his father's wrath, of course.'

  Ruth quivered. 'Are you trying to frighten me. Mr Templar?'

  'No. No, I'm just trying to make you understand the situation, Ruth.' Andrew Templar studied her anxious face with some compassion. 'My dear child, you're dealing with people who can be completely ruthless, if it suits their purpose. Tell your father, explain the situation to him. I just don't want you to live to regret finding that young man on your doorstep.'

  Ruth emerged from the bank feeling slightly dazed. Until then she had given very little thought to the reasons why Dominic might wish to keep his whereabouts to himself, but now she was faced with concrete facts. He was not some casual holiday- maker. but the son of a man Mr Templar obviously respected, a man whose power and influence stretched as far as these outposts of civilisation. He was obviously someone whose name was usually recognised. a wealthy man, a man to whom the loss of a yacht could be dismissed as of no account.

  Joseph, noticing her tense expression, looked perturbed. 'Is something wrong?' he asked, touching her arm, and she looked at him blankly for a moment, unable to comprehend his question.