Dark inheritance (9 page)

"I hope it clears before we reach the Gulf," Barbara panted.

"I think it will," Rockwood replied. "These storms blow themselves out as quickly as they develop."

He was proved right, for with a suddenness that was
startling the wind ceased and died down, and although the sky was still cloudy when they went out on deck
again, watery shafts of sunlight were breaking through
the grcyness.

There was no sign of a canal and it seemed to Barbara
as if the boat was going to cut a way through the mainland of the promontory ahead, but as they drew near she saw that a straight narrow passage had been hewn out of the rock. The ship's engines were shut off and the
boat glided silently in, a ghostly body without a pulse,
until it was taken in tow by a small black tug that chug
ged busily ahead, puffed out with importance at pulling
a boat so much larger than itself, and exuding great clouds of black smoke as it did so.

Very slowly they glided along the ribbon of water with barely three feet to spare on each hand. The land
was flat and bare on either side and their progress was
watched by groups of Greek children and a flock of bored sheep grazing on the rocky edge of the Canal. As they moved along the land rose more and more steeply until the concrete sides were high above the masts of the ship, while far above them on a bridge linking the island to the mainland, trucks and buses scurried along it like arts.

"They might have made the Canal a bit wider," Barabra said disparagingly. "It surely wouldn't have meant very much more work."

"It would certainly have meant a great deal more
expense," Rockwood replied. "Anyway we're nearly out now." He took her arm and turned her round. "Look back."

She did so, surprised to see that the Canal behind them looked as if it were on a steep gradient, the ex
treme narrowness creating an optical illusion of their
having gone uphill.

As the Gulf widened out before them, small Greek
fishing craft could be seen riding the choppy water, their
multiple square sails billowing in the wind.

"How quaint their rigging looks!" Aunt Ellie said, "like miniature pirate vessels." It was an apt com
parison, for the skull and crossbones would not have
looked out of place Dying at their masts.

The countryside was broken up into tiny patches of
cultivated land, and Rockwood told them that the darkest ones were fields of grapes, from whose low vines came the tiny seedless raisin whose name "Corinth" had degenerated into "currant."

The air was growing colder now and Barbara's hair
whipped against her cheeks as the boat gathered speed in the face of the wind.

"Come along, Aunt Ellie, or you'll catch cold," she said, suppressing a shiver.

"It seems a shame to have to go down, but I dare say you're right." The old woman turned to Rockwood. "Do you think I might stay up for dinner this evening, Dominic?"

"No," he said shortly, "you need all the rest you can get."

Crestfallen, Miss Bcrresford allowed herself to be led down to the cabin and prepared for the night, and
when she was settled with her supper on a tray Barbara
went into her own room to change, wishing she knew
why her employer treated his aunt so unkindly. Before
their visit to Athens she had assumed it was his nature
to be cruel, but the insight she had gained during their hours together made her sure this was not the case. The softening of his face as he had looked at the Acropolis,
his loving familiarity with so much of the majesty around them spoke of a passionate appreciation of
beauty that he was obviously holding in check, and once
again she wondered why he condemned himself to a life of loneliness and frustration.

At dinner that evening no trace of Rockwood's irri
tation with his aunt remained, and the hours she spent in his company passed quickly, for his dry humour
was infectious and he encouraged her to talk about her
self, interested when she told him about her parents,
their untimely death and. her subsequent unhappy years
with the two maiden cousins in the Midlands.

"It must have taken courage to break out of a rut like that," he said reflectively.

"I suppose so."

"What did you do?"

Remembering the promise she had given Aunt Ellie
never to tell her nephew she had worked in the theatre, she resisted the temptation to tell him about her training
as a singer. "I went to London and changed my job
completely," she said casually.

"Sometimes the wisest policy. If you're going to break
away, break clean. Slip your moorings and set sail on an uncharted sea."

Barbara laughed. "I can assure you it wasn't as dra
matic as that. It was a long, tedious struggle, with precious little excitement" She looked around the
luxurious lounge, at the well-dressed people and opulent
furnishings. "This is about the nicest thing that's ever
happened to me so far. Oh, I don't mean only this, but
everything that's gone with it—the thrill of travel, Aunt
Ellie's kindness and companionship and, of course, lovely Wales."

He regarded her quizzically. "Have you deliberately
omitted to mention me, or don't I count as one of the nice things?"

Not sure whether he was teasing her or trying to flirt,
she hardly knew what to say. But the idea of flirting as applied to Rockwood was so ridiculous that she dismissed it.

"That would be telling," she said lightly, "and ladies
never tell—if they're wise. And I'm wise as well as capable, you know."

His eyes twinkled. "I can see it's going to take me a long time to live that down! At the moment I must admit you look far more decorative than capable. That blue thing you're wearing suits you."

'This blue
thing,
as you call it, set mc back three weeks' salary." She looked down at the silk of her evening dress. "I'm dad you think it was worth it."

"I do indeed." His eyes appraised her. Against the soft blue her tanned shoulders rose smooth and bare, and her hair curled softly about her face.

"You have pretty hair," Rockwood said abruptly, "but I suppose you know that already."

Barbara was too surprised by the unexpectedness of
his compliment to turn it aside, and felt the colour rising into her face, "Thank you," she murmured.

"You look even prettier when you blush." He stood up. "Come along, let's go up and take a stroll on deck. It'll cool your cheeks."

When they reached the deserted deck they strolled for a while in silence, the moonlight throwing shafts of silver between the dark shadows of the life-boats which creaked gently with the swaying of the ship. Rockwood moved to the railing and lit a cigarette, and Barbara went and stood beside him. As he looked out over the dark water his rigged profile was etched against the sky, the pin point light of his cigarette travelling tip to his lips in a vivid arc.

He smoked quickly and nervously and she sensed a tension in him as if he were restraining himself, and tried to think of something to say to break the silence. Her antagonism towards him seemed to melt and with a flicker of trepidation she knew that her liking for him could grow into something more dangerous—something which might sweep her into a situation over which she would have no control. Acutely aware of his proximity, she moved slightly away, and as she did so her hair blew softly against his check.

It was as if this brief caress broke his resolution, as if the slender strand drew him towards her against his will."

"Barbara!" he whispered: "Barbara!" Responding to the urgency of his tone she swayed against him and their lips met in a passionate kiss. Almost immediately he broke away. "I'm sorry, I've no right"

Pride fought with mortification in her face. "Please don't apologize," she said quickly. "I find the moonlight as intoxicating as you. Good night, Mr. Rockwood."

Her footsteps pattered swiftly along the deserted deck but the man made no move to follow her and remained staring fixedly out into the darkness, the knuckles of his hands showing white as he gripped the railing.

It was not until she was in her cabin that Barbara realized how much the kiss had shaken her, and was glad that she had had the presence of mind to pretend it had meant as little to her as it had to him. Lying wakeful in the dark, she knew that if it had been anyone else it would not have mattered so much—that if Mark had kissed tier she would have known how to accept it and what was expected in return. But her relationship with Rockwood was too erratic, the foundations of their new friendship too tentative for it to have meant anything, and she tried to convince herself it was merely the unexpectedness of his embrace which had shaken her and that her response had been caused by nothing deeper than surprise and a natural instinct, abetted by the exotic setting.

The following morning, however, she was not quite so sure, and faced the prospect of seeing him again with misgivings. But she need have had no fear, for neither by word nor gesture did he bespeak a memory of their kiss of the night before, and was once more the friendly, informative companion he had been during the past few days. Somewhat chilled by his attitude, she chided herself for being illogical and knew that had he been less impersonal she might have felt embarrassed, for she was not the sort of person to indulge in spurious romance with an employer, and the Hollywood conception of a love affair between the boss and his secretary which seemed to find a parallel in herself and Rockwood was anathema to her, redolent of the celluloid cheapness which she had so often disliked in the cinema. Indeed, if he had attempted to go on where they had left off she would have lost her respect for him, and the fact that he did not try to continue on a more familiar footing increased her liking for him.

For the next couple of days, as they steamed slowly round the heel of Italy, Barbara absorbed the sun, her skin tanning from dark rose to a rich, golden brown, and her hair bleaching to an attractive fairness. They halted briefly at Messina to take on stores and enable passengers to post their mail, and Miss Berresford gave her a fat bunch of postcards to be dispatched to Emily, Baldwyn and Evans the gardener, together with a bulky letter to Mark.

As she stuck on the stamps Barbara could not help noticing that most of the cards were in duplicate.

"Aren't you afraid they'll show them to each other?" she asked in amusement.

"Oh dear, I never thought of that." There was a crestfallen look on Aunt Ellie's face.

"Never mind," Barbara consoled, sorry she had made
the remark. "Perhaps I could go ashore and get you some new ones."

"And throw away all those lovely views of the Acropolis you bought me? Oh no! How extravagant you are, Barbara dear—I'm sure Dominic wouldn't like "it "

"What wouldn't I like, Aunt?"

Barbara swung round to sec Rockwood behind them. She coloured and said quickly: "Your aunt has just been
reproving me for extravagance. I wanted to get her some
more picture postcards because these arc all so similar."

"My aunt will have plenty of time to choose cheap picture postcards when we reach Monte Carlo."

The old lady stared at him in rapture.

"Oh, Dominic, arc you really going to let me go ashore at Monte Carlo? It's such a long time since my
feet touched terra firma that I'll probably walk with ii
sailor's roll!"

Barbara laughed, but no answering smile lit the man's face.

"I haven't been to Monte for years." the old woman
went on excitedly. "The last time was with your mother and we nearly broke the bank at the Casino. I don' remember where we stayed, but "

"There isn't very much you do remember, is there,
Aunt? Sometimes I think it would be better if you re
membered nothing." Rockwood's voice was harsh. "If
you excite yourself now I won't let you go ashore at all.
The sun is too hot for you even at sea. You'd better go to your cabin and lie down,"

"But Aunt Ellie always Mays up here, Mr. Rock-wood," Barbara protested. "You've .seen her yourself
many times and never said anything. It's far too hot for
her to go down to her cabin."

"It's hotter up here. Miss Mansfield. I don't mind my aunt staying on deck when we're on the move but wit the sun directly overhead it's dangerous."' He glanced across at the heavy bales being loaded aboard, the dock
labourers naked to the waist, their bodies glistening with
sweat. "It looks as if we shall be here for another hour at least so you'd better take her down. It wouldn't do you any harm to stay out of the sun either.

Barbara stiffened but said nothing as she helped Miss
Bcrresford to her feet. "Come along, Aunt Ellie. I'll put the fans on and open the port-hole windows and you can lie on lop of your bunk."

Reluctantly the old woman allowed herself to be led
away, and once she had seen Miss Bcrresford comfort
ably settled Barbara took up her sun-glasses and straw hat and went back on deck, making her way to the opposite side from where they were loading. Little boats
were moored alongside and the strident voices of the vendors who owned" them filled the air, mingling with
the shrill cries of gulls wheeling overhead. She sat down and watched the colourful scene until gradually her eyes closed and the sounds around her receded into a dull blur as she drifted into a slate of semi-wakefulness.