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His curse had a delightfully permanent sound to it but Honor was too busy staring, slack-jawed, after Monty. The hall door—it had been open all the time! Honor went hot and cold as she contemplated what could have happened. Thank God it had only been Monty who had witnessed their lustful clinch!
No sooner had the prayer gone up than a slender figure in a striking négligé appeared at the door enquiring about the noise, and then a smaller one wearing what looked like a dead ringer for the discarded red carpet. Tania and Joy.
And, then, the final blow—a child. Sara. As wide-eyed as ever and even more inquisitive.
Being discovered together in a mutual state of undress would never have got a conviction—after all, everybody summoned by the crash was wearing her night-things. The violent upheaval of the sheets could have been the result of an early nightmare and the tousled hair and flushed expressions might just have been evidence of a vigorous argument in progress.
What really destroyed Honor’s reputation in the Blake household as a woman of accepted virtue were two things that only a child would have dreamed of drawing attention to.
Why, Sara asked, did Honor have a small, transparent wet patch on a strategically important part of her nightshirt, and why was her father ‘walking funny’?
CHAPTER SEVEN
HONOR bit into a big, crisp red apple, grateful for the techniques of modern cool storage which allowed her to enjoy such a fresh, sweetly ripe taste when all around her were trees laden with tiny, bitterly sour green fruit.
She sighed with content as she munched, lying back in the cropped grass under the shifting shade of the shelter-belt trees. The tall, leafy species, planted to protect the fruit-bearing trees and kiwi-fruit vines from the wind, provided the perfect, peaceful resting spot. She closed her eyes, savouring the sounds of the country. Even the distant buzz of a tractor seemed strangely in tune with the environment.
Her peace was short-lived.
‘What are you doing down here? Are you hiding?’
The girl must have radar. Honor opened her eyes reluctantly. Sara stood over her, panting, her round face pink and glossy from the exertion of running, her pale hair escaping from the rudimentary ponytail straggling crookedly from the side of her head. She wore grass-stained jeans, a shrill T-shirt and an expression of smug satisfaction. She couldn’t have looked more scruffy if she had tried...and Honor guessed that she must have tried very hard, for the previous afternoon Tania had produced an unexpected gift for her ‘favourite only niece’—a clutch of dainty dresses that she thought Sara might like to wear around the house.
‘I’m having my lunch. What are you doing—come for a sly smoke?’ She had had four days to get over the shock of being painted a scarlet woman, time enough to find a surprisingly natural ease in the girl’s company.
Sara giggled. She flopped down beside Honor. ‘Dad’s looking for you.’
‘Is he?’ Honor took another bite of her apple, endeavouring to appear hugely unmoved by the declaration when her pulse was leaping madly. Damn it, you would think by now that her body would have calmed down!
‘Is that who you’re hiding from? Dad? Why, what’s he done?’
‘I’m not hiding—’
‘Then why aren’t you having lunch up at the house with us? Granny said we can have it by the pool today. Did you know I won the school junior swimming championship? I bet I could beat you in a race.’
‘I think you might have mentioned it a few times,’ said Honor drily. If Sara wasn’t asking frank and embarrassing questions she was force-feeding Honor unsolicited confidences. In a dramatic contrast to the sickly shock with which she had greeted Honor’s arrival, she had now decided that her dad’s new best friend must be her best friend.
And she was helpful, so helpful that Honor couldn’t turn around in the upstairs drawing-room in which her computer had been set up as promised without being offered a cup of tea or coffee or finding her pencil newly sharpened or her copy removed from her printer and neatly trimmed of its perforated edges.
Not wanting to hurt any fragile adolescent feelings, Honor had made sure she always had some little job ready to be tackled, but she soon discovered that Sara’s spirit was irrepressible. She wasn’t crushed by being ignored or snapped at, or even at being told to shut up and go away. Like her father, the girl had an independent self-confidence that was almost impossible to shake. She believed in her ability to do anything she set her mind to. When she failed she only became more determined to succeed next time. It was exhausting to watch her.
‘So, if you’re not hiding from dad it must be Aunt Tania!’
That was too close to the mark. ‘I told you, I’m not hiding, I’m having a picnic.’
‘You don’t have to worry, she’s gone to some Growers’ Association lunch,’ said Sara helpfully. ‘She was mad because Dad was supposed to be her escort but he said he didn’t have time to take her. Is that apple all you’re having? You’re not trying to diet, are you? You shouldn’t take any notice of what Aunt Tania says. Did you know she sometimes takes diet pills to keep thin? That’s pretty obsessive, don’t you think? They can be addictive, you know—’
‘Like cigarettes, you mean?’ Honor interrupted hastily. Whatever her own opinion of Tania, it was wrong to encourage Sara’s disrespect towards her aunt. She was guiltily aware that by listening to the chatter in order to find out more about Adam’s life she had provided tacit approval of Sara’s eager indiscretions. Unfortunately on the one subject that Honor was most curious, and most reluctant to enquire about—Sara’s mother—the girl had been utterly discreet.
Sara grinned, revealing teeth that were well-shaped but ever so slightly misaligned. She had refused to have braces—partly, Honor was sure, because Tania was so insistent on the importance of having perfect teeth.
‘Actually I was nearly sick,’ she confessed. ‘I only did it to get sent home.’
So Adam was right. Honor tried to sound nonchalant. ‘Oh? Why was that?’
For a moment she thought Sara was going to spill it out, then the girl shrugged sheepishly and picked at the grass around her feet.
