Authors: Sara Craven
She knew a moment's anxiety as she wondered whether he would
decide the tactful thing would be to take his leave. There was no
way she could get out of the kitchen and into the back of the
Landrover without everyone being quite well aware what she was
up to, and she could hardly follow him out on some pretext either.
Thanks to Gethyn, she was suddenly the centre of some rather
unwelcome attention. He had done it deliberately, of course,
prompted by her own comment about her reluctance to leave.
She drank the rest of her coffee very slowly, trying to appear
unconcerned. Perhaps he was really convinced that she had meant
it, that she was willing to resume an intimate relationship with him
on any terms. Or was he simply trying to goad her into another
piece of self-betrayal? Well, this time it just wouldn't work!
When her coffee was finished, she excused herself quietly and left
the room. She wandered through the hall, glancing into the sitting
room on her way and exchanging smiling greetings with the
Fentons, and refusing Timothy's eager offer of a game of Ludo.
'I've eaten too big a meal,' she said, patting her stomach ruefully. 'I
think I ought to take a stroll and work some of it off.'
Tim accompanied her to the front door. It-was clear he was only
waiting for the slightest hint of an invitation, and he would have
accompanied her, and she felt mean at denying him. He was a nice
kid, and the Fentons were going home tomorrow. As she would be
herself, she was forced to remind herself.
'Have you walked up to the waterfall yet, Mrs Lloyd?' he asked
rather wistfully. And when she nodded, 'Did you find the cave—and
the dragon?'
Davina smiled. 'The cave, certainly, but the dragon seemed to be
out.'
'Do you think he exists?' Tim's eyes were fixed eagerly on her face.
'You don't think it's just the wind blowing through a crack in the
rock like Huw Morgan says, do you?'
'No,' she said, her thoughts flicking back to the events of the
afternoon, the menacing shadow that had seemed to follow her as
she fled from Gethyn's anger. 'He's there all right.'
Tim gave a blissful sigh, and she smiled down at him, imagining the
tales he would tell when he got back to school of the dragon that
still crouched inside its lonely mountain.
She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and strolled
down the path towards the gate. The goat pricked up her ears as she
went past, and Davina gave her a brief scratch on the head,
maintaining a wary distance in case Arabella decided that her
sweater was preferable as a diet to grass.
She paused at the gate as if making up her mind which direction to
take and then turned very casually and began to walk round the
house. She paused in the shadow of one of the outbuildings and
looked across the yard. She could see Mrs Parry in the scullery, but
her head was bent and she was oblivious to anything that might be
taking place outside as she concentrated on the washing up, so
Davina seized her chance. She was across the yard like lightning
and swung herself with little effort into the back of the Landrover.
She resolutely closed her nostrils to the multifarious odours that
assailed them and crouched down. There were a few empty sacks
as well, that were dry and not too dirty, although she had her
suspicions about their previous contents. But she could not afford to
be too choosy, she told herself, arranging them on the floor under
the tarpaulin, and then crawling under it herself.
She had no idea how long she remained there in the noisome
darkness which managed in some strange way to be both chilly and
stifling, at the same time. She only knew she was on the point of
admitting defeat and going back to the house when dimly in the
distance she heard the back door opening and the sound of voices
approaching. Her heart sank and she tensed instinctively as she
recognised Gethyn's resonant, drawling tones. Oh, why did it have
to be him of all people come to see Huw off the premises? She
strained her ears trying to hear what they were saying, but it was
impossible. She made herself as small as possible under the
sheltering tarpaulin and held her breath. Even so when something
bulky descended on top of her with considerable force she was hard
put to it not to cry out in alarm. At least it was nothing human, she
tried to console herself ruefully as she tried to cope with this new
discomfort.
She heard Huw give a quick shout of laughter, then the vehicle
rocked as he climbed into the driving seat. She lay very still, every
nerve stretched to screaming point, waiting for the engine to start.
When at last they began to move forward amid shouted goodnights,
she could have wept with relief. For good or ill, she was on her
way, and she would never see Gethyn again. Pain that had nothing
to do with cold or cramp lashed at her, and she crushed it down
relentlessly. She had to forget about him now. Anything else was
utterly unthinkable. There was no future for them, and there never
had been, and that was a fact she should have learned by now.
Certainly he had had no compunction in teaching it to her. She
could not exist merely to satisfy a transient fancy.
The next few minutes were pure anguish as the Land-rover jolted its
way up the track. Davina felt as if every bone in her body was
breaking. She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard as the wheels
went over every new rut and pothole. And it seemed to go on for
ever. Surely they would be at the road soon? She would liked to
have taken a cautious peep out, but did not dare. If Huw found her
before they arrived at the Morgans' farm, he might feel it incumbent
on him to drive her back to Plas Gwyn.
She was almost at screaming point when the Landrover suddenly
stopped. For a moment she stretched herself involuntarily, then
froze. They hadn't reached the road yet; she knew they hadn't. So
why had they stopped? Had Huw divined somehow that she was
there? Or more prosaically, but even more disastrously, had this
blighted vehicle simply given up the ghost in some way?
She shrank as she realised Huw was getting out of the driver's seat.
She heard stones and pebbles clatter as he walked round the
Landrover to the back. She made herself keep perfectly still as the
bulky weight, whatever it had been, was hauled off her, and she
heard his footsteps receding.
She waited for a few moments, then very cautiously pushed the
tarpaulin off and looked around her. She realised incredulously that
she must have been crouched in the back for several hours, because
it was now twilight. The Land-rover was parked in front of a
building of some sort. The door stood open and lamplight was
flooding out reassuringly. Davina got painfully on to her knees and
gave the house a closer look. It wasn't a very large place. She had
imagined the Morgans' farmhouse would be considerably more
opulent, but as her eyes accustomed themselves to the new light,
she could see that another much larger building, stood nearby, and
somewhere, close at hand, she could hear the sound of running
water.
One thing was certain. She could not endure another moment under
that tarpaulin, and when she saw Huw and the inevitable
recriminations were over, she would suggest acidly that he cleaned
his Landrover out occasionally. She got stiffly down, brushing dirt
and creases from her clothes, then walked towards the welcoming
lamplight. Somewhere to sit down, she thought longingly, that did
not bump or lurch, threatening to dislocate your spinal column. And
a warm drink. Even if the Morgans were not very pleased to see
her, surely they wouldn't deny her that much at least. She hesitated,
then walked resolutely through the low doorway.
It wasn't a large room, furnished at random, it seemed from a
variety of junk shops. The lamp stood in the centre of a solid
old-fashioned table, and beyond it a wood fire flickered and
crackled on a stone hearth, making the room dance unnervingly
with shadows.
Davina stood looking round her, utterly disconcerted, then one of
the shadows detached itself and came forward into the lamplight
and her next breath caught in her throat.
'Alone at last, Davina,' Gethyn said quite gently, and walked past
her to kick the door shut, closing them in together into this intimacy
of soft flickering light with heart-thudding finality.
He turned and leaned back against the door, his arms folded across
his chest, as if to emphasise that her line of retreat was cut off. His
green eyes seemed to taunt her as they began a lingering
head-to-toe assessment that made her feel hot all over.
. 'I did warn you that you might end up bruised,
cariad,
though this
wasn't altogether what I had in mind,' he said at last.
'Where's Huw?' she demanded huskily.
He lifted a lazy shoulder. 'Back at Plas Gwyn, I suppose, lending
Rhiannon his shoulder to cry on.'
'You're quite heartless, aren't you?' she said hotly. 'Don't you care
about the hurt you've caused that poor child?'
His eyes gleamed appreciatively. 'That "poor child" is very little
younger than you are. And it was inevitable that she was going to
be hurt sooner or later. Besides, she has Huw to pick up the pieces.
I wouldn't be surprised if this wasn't a turning point for them.'
'And you don't even care.'
He shrugged again. 'It's very flattering to be given such
wholehearted devotion, but I always knew I could never live up to
Rhiannon's god-like image of me. Huw's ideal for her, and maybe
she'll get round to realising it now.'
'But you were going to marry her.'
He shook his head. 'I'm married to you, Davina. A fact I've never
forgotten for a minute, even if you have.'
She flung up her head. 'I don't know how you have the gall to say
such a thing,' she said, her voice shaking with anger.
'Because it happens to be the truth.' Anger stirred in his own even
tones.
'Duw,
Davina, haven't I made it clear enough in the past few
days? I'm damned if I'll just agree to a divorce and wave you
goodbye. I want you, and this time I intend to keep you.'
'Against my will?' she asked between her teeth.
He smiled sardonically. 'Tell me that in the morning,' he suggested,
and came away from the door with a purpose about him that set her
pulses pounding. She backed away from him, until the table brought
her up short. Her gaze went all over the room looking for a way
out. But there was none. In the corner, a flight of rather ramshackle
wooden steps led up to the upper storey—but that was the last
direction she wanted to take, she thought, biting at her lower lip
until the blood came.
He halted barely a foot away from her and his eyes were quizzical
as they studied her pale face.
'And now what?' he inquired interestedly. 'Shall we continue this
chase round the room, or shall we sit by the fire in a civilised
manner and drink coffee together? I imagine you could do with
some after that bone-shaking ride of yours.'
She would have liked to have flung the offer haughtily back in his
face, but common sense prevailed, and she nodded awkwardly.
'Go and sit down,' he ordered, giving her a not ungentle push
towards the fire. 'It's only a wooden rocking chair, I'm afraid, but
there are a couple of pillows in the pack over there. You can use
those if you like.'
So that was what he had thrown on top of her, she thought, as she
knelt beside the large bundle and began to unfasten the strap that
held it securely. Not just pillows either, she found, but sheets and
blankets and a quilt. Her face flamed as the implications of this
came home to her. No doubt presently Gethyn would expect her to
help him to make up their marriage bed. Well, she would see him in
hell first! She rescued a pillow and carried it over to the elderly
rocking chair by the fire. Gethyn was busy at a small calor gas
stove in one corner of the room.
She settled herself in the chair, wincing slightly.
'What is this place?'