The Red Cliffs (15 page)

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Authors: Eleanor Farnes

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1969

BOOK: The Red Cliffs
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When hunger impelled her to the house at seven o

clock to make coffee and sandwiches, Roger was in the bar of the Golden Hind with several cronies, celebrating a business success. Neil Edgerton was also there, with two or three friends, enjoying an aperitif before going out to dinner. They were at opposite ends of the bar, but Roger

s party could not be overlooked on account of the noise it made. The barman looked at the group once or twice with speculation and Neil thought it would not be long
Roger and his friends would be asked to leave.


They look pretty pleased with themselves,

observed Neil

s friend Malcolm.


I should say they

ve been up to no good,

replied Neil.

“I
can bet,

said Clive Rolands,

that if Roger Falcon is mixed up with anything, there

s something shady somewhere.


I hear he had a car accident this week
...”


Yes. Bought a car about a month ago, and now he

s wrecked it.


What happened?


Chap coming out of a side road. Neither would give way. And Falcon carrying just enough insurance
to get by. Fellow

s a menace on the roads.


It

s as well he won

t be driving this evening,

said Neil.

He

d be a menace tonight with what he

s taken.

He noticed that Roger was still drinking heavily, so that he was surprised when suddenly Roger detached himself from his friends, in spite of all their protestations, and prepared to leave. It was no secret that he had a date with a lady: everybody in the bar heard him sa
y
so. Neil heard it, and he saw, through the window, that Roger

s bicycle took an extremely erratic course along the High Street. He turned back to
his
friends. It was no affair of his. The lady concerned might be any girl from the town. There was nothing to ind
icate that she might be Alison.

When Roger arrived at Combe Russet Cottage, Alison was perched on a stool in her workshop with her coffee and sandwiches before her on the bench, shavings and wood chips on the floor around her, and. Mozart

s Clarinet Concerto filling the sun-gilded, mote-filled air. She was not. working, but gazing at what she had done through the long afternoon, pleasantly tired, thoroughly content. She did not hear Roger

s approach and was first aware of him when his shadow fell across the doorway. She was about to greet him in as matter-of-fact a fashion as she could manage, when she realised that all was not well. Not only was he far from steady on his feet, but he gave her a foolish smile that was almost a leer, and spoke before she had time.


Here she is,

he said,

the silly girl. Wasting her time over her little wooden toys, and on a Saturday evening too. Go and put your bonnet on, Alison my love, and we

ll paint the town red.

Alison

s heart sank and she told herself there was nothing to be frightened of. She would be able to manage him if she kept quite cool.


Sit down, Roger,

she said pleasantly, indicating another stool.

I

m just having a rather makeshift supper.


Coffee and sandwiches,

he scoffed.

That

s no supper for a pretty girl on a Saturday night. I

ve had a lucky coup, Alison, and made some money. I

ll take you to dinner at the Golden Hind. Go and make yourself look pretty, and we

ll celebrate.

He said

shelebrate

and did not notice the slip.


Not tonight, Roger. I

ve been working all day and I

m too tired to dress up, or to celebrate.

She had a vision of herself with Roger at the Golden Hind and knew that nothing would induce her to go out with him this evening.

I

ll just stay here quietly, but you go and celebrate. I

m sure you have lots of friends who would love to go with you.


Nonsense,

he exclaimed loudly.

You

re the only girl I want to be with. And if you want to stay here quietly, then I

ll stay quietly with you. Nothing I should like better.

He stood beside her and put his arm round her shoulders.

I

ve been wanting a quiet evening with Alison for a long, long time.

He leaned over her to kiss her, but she moved sharply away and stood up. She wondered how she could get rid of him. Or how to get away from him. He was standing between her and the door, and she wondered if she could slip past him and hurry into the house, but even as she thought it, his arms reached out for her.


You

re not going to refuse me a kiss, are you?

he asked, and the loudness had gone out of his voice and left it maudlin.

I

ve been very patient, darling, haven

t I? Pussyfooting round the place, doing your jobs for you, and never a kiss in return.

He was at the stage where he thought himself irresistible to women, and he quite expected Alison to melt into his arms. He was surprised that she tried to get away,
surprised and affronted that she turned her head this way and that to avoid his kisses; until he thought I that she might be

leading him on

in this way, and took a sudden pleasure from the thought of quelling her resistance. It was the easiest thing in the world for him to do so, for she was slim and slight, and he was tough, and her struggle to escape from the arms that held her so tightly and closely was laughable.

The Clarinet Concerto came to an end. There was sudden silence in the workshop and Alison was astonished to hear herself sobbing from fear. She could see in the rack on the bench her row of beautiful bright chisels, and she felt that if she could lay her hands
on
them, she would soon make Roger release her; but her arms were pinioned to her sides.

Suddenly her resistance ceased. She had had another idea. She wo
uld, speak him fair, appear to
give in to him, and wait for her chance to escape,

She said plaintively:


Roger, you

re hurting me.
Please.”

He laughed, and only held her the more tightly.

No, you don

t,

he said.

You don

t get away like that.

She drooped, waiting for the moment when
his
grip would relax; and when at last it did, she gave a sudden twist, breaking the circle of
h
is arms, freeing herself for a moment. But it was a forlorn h
o
pe. She had to pass him to get to the door, and he had caught her again almost immediately, laughing at her, kissing her repeatedly, finding it much more enjoyable that she should fight him.

Then Alison saw Neil standing in the wide doorway, and she felt shame even before she felt, relief.


Do you need help?

asked Neil

s clipped, incisive voice. Roger looked round and saw Neil and his hatred was greater than ever it had been.


You keep out of this,

he said.

This is between me and my girl.

Neil loo
k
ed at Alison.


Do you need help?

he asked again.


Yes,

she admitted.


Are you his girl?


No.


You keep out of this,

Roger shouted again, and took a swinging blow at Neil, which Neil sidestepped without trouble.


I

d advise you to get out of here,

he said calmly to Roger,

before any more harm is done.


I

ll see some harm is done,

Roger was still shouting, and now he went in to attack Neil with wild blows; and when Neil found that he could not push him off, he suddenly let loose a powerful punch that stretched Roger on his back among the shavings on the workshop floor. For a moment or two, Roger did not know what had happened to him, then he struggled to his feet to have it out with Neil. But they were unevenly matched. Roger was already unsteady and confused with drink and the first of Neil

s blows. The second put him on his back again.


There are plenty more where that came from,

said Neil.

You

d better clear out while you can.

Roger struggled to his feet. Neil
w
atched him impassively to see if he would be crazy enough to want to continue the fight. Alison
w
atched in horror, feeling Roger

s degradation, and her own shame. Roger held on to the door jamb for support and looked at Alison.


I won

t forget this,

he said. His voice
w
as normal and quiet, as if Neil

s treatment had sobered him.

I won

t forget this,

he repeated, and turned and went out. Neil followed him to see him off the premises, and watched him waver along the drive on his bicycle. Then he went back to Alison.

She stood exactly as he had left her, and he saw that she was still suffering from shock and fright and shame. She was very pale and swayed a little where she stood.


Are you all right?

asked Neil, going to her side.

She nodded her head, but did not move.


Come and sit down,

he said, and took her by the arm to lead her to her stool. She turned unsteadily and he thought she might be going to faint and put his arms round her.


It

s all right,

he said, still very matter-of-fact.

Rest a moment if you want to.

She was glad to rest against him, for she was shaken and trembling and he seemed a tower of strength, and she was reassured by the impersonal tone of his voice and touch of his arms. Her eyes were closed. Neil saw the dark lashes thick against her pale cheek, the dark hair soft against his shoulder. His eyes went to the bench, to the cooling coffee and the small plate of sandwiches, to the rack of bright chisels, the saws and planes and drills, to the work she had been engaged on all that long afternoon, and various unfinished pieces of work ranged round the workshop. She was a surprise to him. She had constantly been a surprise to him. He had not expected her to keep the house, thinking that a sister of Tom Springett would not want to bury herself in this remote spot. He had not expected her to take a nine-till-five job in the town, again taking it for granted that a sister of Tom would consider herself too good for such a job. And now he was surprised that such talent and originality lay hidden in her and he had not suspected it.

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