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‘Darling, I’m not going away for ever. I know it's a deprivation for . . . both of us, but it won't be for long.’

She noticed the tiny pause before the both’; he would not be deprived, already he had gone from her in spirit, and tears rose in her eyes.

‘Don’t turn into a weeping Niobe,’ he chided her, as a tear splashed on his chest. ‘Brave women send their men into battle with smiles.’

And so she smiled until her lips were stiff, all through breakfast, and during their goodbyes. Gray was leaving for the airport, and a taxi was calling for her to take her to Mallaig. His final embrace was perfunctory, as he said lightly:

‘When I come back I'll crown you with my victor’s laurels.’

It was another grey day, and Frances watched his car disappear into the grey murk with a sense of foreboding. Suppose Silver Arrow did not win, suppose . . . no, she must not think of that. But there was another possibility—suppose among the bevy of American fans, all more sophisticated and smarter than herself, he came to regret his hasty marriage? There would be wealthy women who could help Crawfords financially, which she could not, and divorce was easy. Her hold over Gray was so slight, it could be broken without much difficulty or even regret on his part. He was the love of her life, but to him she was only another woman with whom for expediency’s sake he had forged a bond, that had no great binding force.

The mist began to roll up the mountainsides that guarded the entrance to Glencoe, the Glen of Weeping, as it was called. The sun broke through the mist, a happy augury, surely. But Frances could not wholly free herself from her depression, the conviction that for one reason or another she had looked her last upon Graham Crawford. I’m being morbid, she told herself; it's this place, I’ll be better when I get back to Craig Dhu.

A car pulled up in front of the inn, and the driver got out, enquiring for Mrs Grey, which was the name under which Gray had registered. With a start she realised he meant herself and went to collect her case.

In the car she surreptitiously slipped off her wedding ring. She was Miss Desmond again until Gray came back to claim her.

Though
Gray was supposed to be away for only a fortnight, the Fergusons did not expect him back at the end of that time. His movements were always erratic, and he might decide to go off somewhere else, though in view of his father’s illness he should return unless Mr Crawford made a complete recovery. Only Frances knew he had another reason for coming back promptly, and she was confident he would not let her down; moreover, he had promised that this was to be his last fling, before he settled in to the company routine.

It was not until Frances was back at Craig Dhu that she remembered they had made no arrangement about telephoning or correspondence. A letter would probably arrive about the time Gray would, but she was sure he would ring her, and she hoped he would remember to use her maiden name if alternatively he wired her. She desperately longed for some message from him, though she feared he might not understand her need. The three days on Rannoch Moor had a dreamlike quality, and as she slipped back into her normal duties, it was difficult to credit that they had actually occurred. Only at night when her newly awakened senses craved for him, she knew they most definitely had, for he had broken through her virginal inhibitions and left her a yearning wife. She was restless and apprehensive, her consolation being that each unhappy night brought their reunion a day nearer.

Gray had been entered for other offshore events, but the Miami-Nassau race from the U.S. to the Bahamas was the important one. If he were among the first six finishers, he would be eligible for a world championship as ruled by the Union of International Motorboat Racing, for he had already achieved the necessary number of points in two other international events as laid down as compulsory by it. That was his ambition to win before he retired. Lesley scoffed at the idea of his intended retirement, of which he had made no secret.

‘It’s in his blood,’ she declared, ‘He’ll never give up unless he becomes crippled or is beaten hollow, and that he’ll never be.’

Frances was much afraid she might be right.

She was kept too busy during the day to have much time for brooding. The twins, Jo and Jac, abbreviations of their baptismal names of Josephine and Jacqueline, which they detested, made a lot more work, particularly in the preparation of meals. They were lively teenagers, very similar in appearance, with mops of reddish curls and greenish eyes like their elder sister’s. Frances was thankful for the diversion they created, which gave little opportunity for Margaret to question her about the funeral, in which she showed a morbid curiosity, and Frances hated to have to tell lies. Lesley had greeted her with probing glances which seemed to question its genuineness, but she did not say anything, for there was little time for private conversation with either Jo or Jac barging in upon them, demanding this and that. They had inspected Frances with critical looks and sighed with relief, which they later explained.

‘When we heard Mum had got a help, we expected an old fuddy-duddy who’d disapprove of us,’ Jo told her candidly, when they were helping Frances with the supper wash up. ‘But you’re not old at all.’

‘And quite good-looking,' Jac conceded. She giggled. ‘I believe my brother’s sweet on you.’

‘Nonsense,' Frances returned quickly. ‘We’re just good friends.’

‘Says you, but of course you’ve got a crush on Gray, like we all have, though none of us have a hope with him.’ She sighed. ‘Bet he’s having a whale of a time with those glam American girls!'

‘Ian thinks Sam Lambert’s after him,’ Jo said mournfully. ‘Suppose he comes back married?’

Jac laughed scornfully. ‘Married? Our Gray? Hoots, lass, he'll never wed, he likes to play the field.’ She became serious. ‘Of course it would be a good thing for Crawfords if he did marry Sam, she’s loaded, and the firm needs some capital investment.’

Not enjoying this conversations Frances pointed out that it was a lovely evening and if they wanted to make the most of the last of the daylight, they had better go out, and they scampered off. Left alone, Frances completed the last of her chores in a mood of depression. Gray had said one of his reasons for marrying her had been to ward off predatory women like Samantha, but she thought he had been joking. She wondered if what the twins had said about Crawfords were true, and whether Gray would regret the opportunity he had missed by marrying her, when he thought about it. He took a lively interest in the business. He was not enamoured of Samantha, but then he had not married herself for love, and if expediency pointed to Sam, what then? She had an idea divorce in the States could be easy and swift, in Reno or some such place. Then she shook herself mentally. If she could not trust Gray for a fortnight, it was a poor lookout for their future.

Speedboat racing has not a great appeal in Britain, it is too expensive and exclusive a sport to compete with football or tennis. So there was little reportage in the British press, but one paper did print a photograph of Gray after winning a minor event, with Sam putting what looked like a Hawaiian lei about his neck. The caption said: ‘Playgirl Samantha Lambert rewards British speed ace Graham Crawford. Is there a romance in the offing?’

Lesley showed it to Frances with a malicious gleam in her eyes, as if she were issuing a warning. Frances made no comment.

Since there was no television at Craig Dhu, Ian and Murdoch spent the day of the race fiddling with the radio in Gray’s tower, to be sure they could tune in to get the result. Owing to the difference in time they would not hear until the late evening. They refused help and advice from the twins and told the rest of the household to keep out. They would inform them as soon as there was anything to report.

Frances had had no word from Gray, though they had all wired messages of good luck the night before. She supposed she was expecting too much. Gray would be living in a whirl of activity, but he might have remembered, she thought resentfully, that he had a wife. A nasty niggling doubt assailed her. Perhaps he had forgotten! She was not all that important to him, and he was absorbed in that other part of his life to which he had never admitted her. She began to wish she had not insisted upon keeping their marriage secret. It was galling to be treated like an outsider, when she was nearest to him of all, for the Fergusons were not even related to him. But she could not face the surprise and disbelief a revelation would cause if she made it now. Gray had taken charge of their marriage certificate and she might have to get a copy to convince them. It was not worth all the fuss when Gray would be back so soon. She had her ring, which she put on at night
_}
it being a link with him who had put it on her finger. Forsaking all other . . . but Gray would never forsake Silver Arrow for her. and the boat had claimed him.

They all congregated in the sitting room after an early supper, waiting for Ian to bring them the news. Margaret Ferguson, who was the least involved, made desultory conversation. Even the twins were quiet, while Frances was rigid with suspense. In her mind’s eye she saw Silver Arrow as she had first seen her, sweeping up the loch in a cloud of spray. She looked at the clock; it would be finishing now, the end of that long trek through blue waters. Over there it would be still afternoon. The minutes ticked remorselessly on. Surely Ian would have got the announcement by now? Perhaps he couldn’t get through and they would have to wait until morning for news. They heard him coming downstairs, slowly, heavily, and as he came in he met their anxious eyes with a shake of his head.

‘She didn’t win?’ Lesley asked flatly, while Frances’ heart seemed to stop beating.

‘Silver Arrow' was out of the race,’ Ian told them. ‘A mechanical fault—she had to be withdrawn.’

They looked from one to the other with dismay, and Margaret remarked with irritating casualness: ‘Machines always go wrong when most needed . . .'

Her children gave her murderous glances.

‘Who did win?’ Jac enquired.

‘Brett Lambert’s Sea Witch gained the most points.’

Lesley sprang to her feet, her green eyes flashing.

‘Damn him, damn him!’ she cried furiously. ‘I’m sure he had something to do with it. He didn't want Silver Arrow to win. Oh, I could kill him!’

‘Lesley, what language!’ her mother reproved her. ‘The Lamberts were his hosts. You shouldn't say things like that, even if you are upset.’

‘The security guards wouldn’t let anyone near the speedboats,’ Ian pointed out. ‘Perhaps she was injured in one of the other races, or on the journey over.’

‘Gray shouldn’t have let her out of his sight,’ Lesley declared. ‘He should have gone with her, she might have been tampered with before he came, and the damage only became apparent before the big race.'

‘Gray made all the arrangements,’ Frances said dully.

‘Of course he did,’ Mrs Ferguson intervened. ‘He knew best. What did the broadcast say about Gray, Ian?'

Ian sighed heavily. ‘He wasn’t mentioned.’

‘It’ll break him!’ Lesley stormed. ‘He'd set his heart upon success. Someone has been criminally negligent. Silver Arrow was in perfect condition when she left.’ She clenched her fists. ‘Sabotage! she hissed.

‘Now, Les, don’t make wild statements, Margaret told her. ‘You never know where you are with machinery.’ .

‘It’s reliable enough if it’s properly checked and maintained.’

‘I’ll get through to the Crawfords in the morning,' Ian interposed. ‘They may have heard from Gray.’

Frances felt a jealous pang, it was she he should
contact, not them. ‘I’ll crown you with my laurels,’ rang in her ears, but there would not be any laurels. Her heart bled for her husband. She did not know him well enough to anticipate his reaction. He would be disappointed, but he was a proud man and would resent condolences. She longed to be with him to comfort him, but would he accept her sympathy? He was so very much the arrogant male, he might reject it If he had loved her, he might have turned to her; love could give solace and healing without offence or injury to pride, but he would take any form of pity as an affront to his manhood. Though legally she was his nearest and dearest, he did not see her in that light, and if he went to anyone it would be his mother, she thought bitterly.

There was no hope of any more news that night, and with the exception of Mrs Ferguson who would never allow anything to do with motorboats disturb her, none of them slept much. Even the twins, who usually went out like a light, were restless. As for Frances, she did not try to sleep. She sat by her window gazing out at the dark loch. It was a still night, spangled with stars, and she thought how indifferent nature was to their puny human woes. The stark hills and quiet water had watched so many dramas of life and death through the passing years. War and pillage, fire and slaughter had been frequent occurrences in the days gone by, but new grass covered the blood-soaked earth, and fresh generations replaced the slain, while the hills remained the same, only an occasional flood or landslide disturbing their tranquillity.

Gray was alive, there had been no accident to Silver Arrow endangering his life, only his pride and ambition would suffer. By the time he returned he would have recovered from the worst of his disappointment; he was too much of a man to be wrecked by failure. They had all the future before them, and he had said he was going to devote himself to the business and they were to have their own home. He would have plenty of diversions to distract him from Silver Arrow’s incomprehensible mechanical fault, and there would be some stormy inquests in the shipyard where she had been built. But though her shadow would fall on him for some time to come, she was after all only an expensive toy, and his racing a hobby, which he had already decided to give up. Frances decided she must encourage him to look forward and forget what might have been.

By the time the early dawn light crept over the mountains, Frances had reasoned herself into a more optimistic state of mind. She was able to sleep :or a couple of hours before facing the new day, but at the back of her mind was an uneasy presentiment that Gray was not going to be as conformable as she hoped.