HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT (13 page)

'Going out, then? That's right. If you're anywhere up near Jacky Herrick's

you could bring me back a dozen eggs and tell Jacky I'll see him for the

money.'

Outside the house, Morwenna stood irresolute for a moment or two,

wondering which way to go. But the lure of the sea was irresistible and

eventually she turned up the track which led away from the house towards

the cliffs.

The wind was fresher and stronger up on the exposed headland, dragging at

her hair and whipping it across her face. She raked it back with impatient

fingers and looked about her. The tide was at its height, sucking and roaring

at the cliff-face below her and sending up damp fingers of spray which

seemed to hang in the sunlight. Away to her right, she saw the deep gracious

curve of the bay with the huddle of roofs that was Port Vennor almost at its

centre. A few feet ahead of the spot where she stood, the ground fell away

almost sheer into Spanish Cove where generations ago Trevennon men had

scrabbled after the wreckage of a proud galleon driven on to its rocks by the

storms that had scattered the Armada fleet. Its beach could be reached by

means of steep and precarious steps cut into the face of the cliff, but few

people ever went there now, Nick had told, her. Instead it had become a

haunt for seals who used it in the early autumn as a breeding ground.

Morwenna's eyes keenly scanned the tumbling waves and foam-capped

rocks, but she could see no sign of sleek, grey bodies, somewhat to her

disappointment. The seals would be back, she knew, to moult early in the

new year, but would she still be at Trevennon to see them? It seemed

unlikely.

She began to walk along the edge of the cliff, skirting the massive granite

boulders with which it was Uttered and keeping a wary eye open for old

mine workings. Although she had spent most of her life living in the

country, she felt an alien in this wild, desolate-looking world. There was an

untamed, brooding quality about the landscape that disturbed and

exhilarated her.

She found a convenient rock, at last large enough to give her shelter from the

ubiquitous wind and with a shelf which she could perch on. She sketched in

the contour of the bay with clean swift strokes and merely suggested the

houses and breakwater at Port Vennor. An inquisitive gull came and perched

on the rock beside her, but it soon flew away when there were no titbits

forthcoming. Morwenna wriggled her shoulders inside her sheepskin jacket.

It wasn't ideal weather for sketching out of doors. The wind seized at her

sketchbook pages as if it was trying to tear them and there was no real

power'in the winter sun. The year was running down, she thought. It had

been a melancholy time for her and she was glad to see it go. But the

prospect held out by the coming months did not seem any too bright in

comparison. Moodily, she added some shading to a rock in the foreground of

her drawing. Would she still be here at Trevennon, taking refuge in the past

lives of other-people, living the life of a semi-recluse, ignored by one part of

the household altogether?

With a sudden burst of irritability, she snatched the page out of her

sketchbook, crumpled it up and let the wind take it, whirling out of sight

over the cliff. If only things could be wiped out as speedily and completely,

she thought wryly as she got to her feet. She thrust her pencils into her

pocket and tucked her book under her arm. She felt chilled and out of sorts.

The virtue had gone out of the morning for her. She might as well find her

way to Herricks' farm, collect the eggs that Inez wanted and get back to the

house.

She wasn't completely sure how to get to the farm, but guessed she would

have to walk up to the main road first. She was about halfway up the lane she

had trudged down that first stormy night when she heard the sound of a car

engine behind her and a horn tooting a warning. Deliberately, she did not

look round. She was keeping close to the hedge, not blocking the road at all,

and the unknown motorist had plenty of room to pass, she told herself, trying

to regain some control over suddenly hammering pulses.

But when the car drew level with her, its horn tooting again rather

plaintively, she saw with an odd feeling of deflation that it was Mark's Mini.

'Hullo.' He leaned across and opened the passenger door. 'Have you been

given time off for good conduct? Hop in and I'll give you a lift.'

After a brief hesitation she complied. 'I'm only going to Herricks' farm to

collect some eggs for Inez,' she told him as she settled herself in the seat.

'Is that all?' He sounded unimpressed. 'I'll drop you there."

There was still a slight awkwardness between them, but she thought she was

probably as much to blame for this as he was. Whenever she encountered

either of the Trevennon brothers, her guard rose instinctively.

'How's the great history going?' Mark asked lightly after a few minutes.

'Slowly,' she admitted. 'There's a lot of sorting out to do."

He sighed and pursed his lips. 'That's not so good.'

She gave him a long level look. 'Why? Because it will mean my remaining at

the house for longer than your brother thought?'

'Good God, no.' Mark's eyebrows shot up. 'You are touchy, aren't you? No,

my anxieties are purely for Nick's sake. He's been a very sick man—you

know that, don't you? We tried to keep from him how strong the possibility

of another stroke was, but I think he guesses. At first, he used to try and push

himself to get better. At least now he seems to take each day as it comes.' He

gave her an uncomfortable glance. 'If you can help in that, I don't need to say

we would be very grateful.'

'We?' She gave a brittle little smile.

He sighed rather wearily. 'Yes—even Dom. One of the main objections to

your arrival in the first place was that he thought it would upset Nick and

perhaps precipitate another attack. Now, of course, he knows differently.'

'But it hasn't altered his attitude one iota,' she said.

Mark sighed again. 'Have a heart! Did you really think the prejudices of a

lifetime were going to be swept away in a few hours or even days? Don't

forget that all the main burden of our financial struggles in recent years has

fallen on Dominic.'

'And these in turn are blamed exclusively on my family,' Morwenna said

coldly. 'I haven't forgotten.'

The road to Port Vennor wound along the edge of the coast, affording

frequent glimpses of the sea and occasional views of rubble and fallen

chimneys where former mine- workings had stood.

'The Trevenonns mined tin once upon a time,' Mark commented at her side.

'Made a lot of money from it too. But it didn't last, of course. I reckon we

probably made more out of smuggling and such ventures than we ever did

out of our respectable business endeavours. The boatyard is a case in point."

He hesitated. 'But perhaps the tide is going to turn for us at last, even there.'

Morwenna longed to ask him what he meant, but she knew that under the

circumstances this was quite impossible.

He brought the car to rest at the side of the road. 'Her-ricks' place is down

there. Just follow the track down. And there's a short cut back if you don't

want to go round by road—ask Molly Herrick to show you.'

Morwenna found the farmhouse without difficulty, and the negotiations

over the eggs were accomplished without delay. Mrs Herrick was friendly,

but with an obvious penchant for gossip, and when her questions about

Morwenna's unexpected presence at Trevennon became too pointed,

Morwenna made an excuse that Inez was needing the eggs and said a hasty

goodbye.

Following the directions Mrs Herrick had given her, she walked across a

field, avoiding the more obvious patches of mud, then went through a gate

into a copse of trees. On the other side of the copse, she had been assured,

she would find the yard at the back of Trevennon.

When she emerged from the trees, she was confronted by the high wall at the

back of the house. The catch on the tall white gate was stiff, and the creaking

of the hinges as she pushed it open indicated how little it was used. She

turned to push it shut, and as she did so she heard the dogs barking excitedly

quite close at hand. Her heart sank. This was something she hadn't bargained

for. She had not seen them since that first day and Inez had assured her that

they were usually kept outside. Clutching the boxes of eggs awkwardly

against her chest, she managed to latch the gate securely. There were a

number of outbuildings all around the yard, including a former barn and a

disused stable block, so Morwenna began to pick her way cautiously round

the edge of the yard, keeping a wary eye open for the dogs. All was silent for

a moment or two, then suddenly the barking broke out again with renewed

frenzy and coming in the direction of the yard.

Forgetting everything she had ever been told about standing her ground,

Morwenna fled into the nearest shelter. This was where Zack kept his

gardening tools and other implements, and she picked her way hurriedly

between forks and rakes and a rusty-looking lawnmower, seeking a dark

corner. There was a ladder leaning rather precariously against one wall and

when she glanced up she saw that it led to some kind of loft. Still clutching

the eggs against her, she scrambled uneasily up the rungs and swung herself

into the loft. It smelled musty and unpleasant, and there were vague rustlings

that Morwenna decided it might be better to pretend she had not heard. She

peered cautiously down, just as one of the dogs reached the bottom of the

ladder and began to jump up and down barking uproariously.

Morwenna sat down on the dusty floor, carefully depositing the eggs beside

her, and considered her predicament. She felt incredibly foolish. She liked

dogs, for heaven's sake, and "they had always liked her. She was just letting

this terrible unwelcoming atmosphere at Trevennon get to her. After all,

even Dominic Trevennon was unlikely to have trained his dogs to actually

bite her. She giggled weakly at the thought, and glanced down over the edge

of the loft, only to be greeted by renewed and even more furious barking and

growls. Both dogs were there now. Having cornered their quarry, they were

now apparently prepared to wait for as long as it took.

Morwenna groaned inwardly. The obvious course was to climb back down

the ladder and risk being bitten, but she didn't like the way they kept jumping

at the ladder and shaking it. And the floor below her was far too littered with

prongs and sharp edges for her to risk any kind of fall.

The best she could do would be to sit out her vigil and hope it would not be

too long before she was missed.

She shifted herself into a more comfortable position on the hard wooden

floor and looked at her watch. Her mouth felt parched, but there was still a

good hour and a half to go before lunchtime which was the first time that any

enquiries as to her whereabouts would be made. And even then no one

would have any idea where to look unless curiosity led them to find out why

the dogs were making such a row.

And of course, out of sheer contrariness, they had gone quiet. She peeped

out again and Whisky leaped up at the ladder, snarling. Well, not all that

quiet.

'Stupid animals,' she muttered crossly, and paused listening intently as she

caught the sound of footsteps approaching over the cobbles outside. Her

heart lifted. Ideally, it would be Inez, but she could even tolerate Zack's

undoubted malicious enjoyment of her plight just as long as she got out of

this loft before the horrors that she was sharing it with actually manifested

themselves.

The dogs had heard the approach too and were off like greyhounds with

eager whines. But they'd be back if the new arrival was simply passing

through the yard on the way elsewhere.

'I say,' she shouted, 'can you hang on to those dogs while I get down from

here?'

There was a silence, then she heard the footsteps gingerly picking their way

across the floor below with the dogs snuffling excitedly in attendance. She

peered over the edge and her eyes met Dominic Trevennon's.

Her lips moved but no sound came out as her brain searched feverishly for

some totally reasonable explanation for her presence in a disused loft at the

top of a rickety ladder when his question came as it inevitably would. And

did.

'What the hell are you doing up there?'

'Escaping from your damned dogs!' Morwenna glared down at him, silently

daring him to be amused. One glimmer of a smile, one twitch of the lips and