Page 1 of A Bewitching Compulsion

CHAPTER ONE

'I'm very sorry, Mrs Malcolm, but I had no idea that you'd have such strong objections. I thought you'd be pleased. After all, it's quite an honour.'

It was difficult to smile when you were shaking with anger, but Clare .managed it fairly credibly. The woman was obviously bewildered and upset, and who could blame her? Of course she'd had no idea, the person who was to blame had made very sure of that!

'It's all right, Mrs Carmen, what's done is done. But in future I think you might be wise to check with the child's parents before undertaking such an ambitious scheme,'

'But I thought I had. I mean, Mrs Malcolm… Mrs Malcolm senior said…' The unfortunate woman trailed off, looking from Clare's angry face to the proudly set one of her mother-in-law.

'I can imagine,' Clare clipped grimly, giving Virginia Malcolm a fulminating stare.

'I really am very sorry,' stuttered Mrs Carmen, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot in the shabby gentility of the small room. She was obviously longing to be gone, and Clare's anger suddenly drained away in sympathy. She, too, longed to escape the tensions that Virginia was a genius at creating.

'I know you meant well,' Clare managed another smile, 'and I appreciate the thought behind the action. It's just that I think Tim is a little young for the kind of pressures that performing in public bring.'

'Oh, but he enjoyed it. He wasn't nervous at all. Excited, yes, but not frightened. And a Master Class isn't really a public performance—'

'As I said, I appreciate the thought,' Clare cut her off firmly. She knew all the arguments—Virginia trotted them out with aggravating regularity. 'But at the moment I'm content for him just to have his regular lessons. I hope he thanked you for the outing…?'

Mrs Carmen allowed herself to be guided to the front door of the compact townhouse, relief mixing with her flustered embarrassment over the awkward situation. 'He did, and very nicely too. He's a lovely little boy, Mrs Malcolm.'

And I want him to stay that way, the thought drifted across Clare's mind as her mouth tugged down wryly. 'I only wish his schoolteachers thought the same. If he paid as much attention to his work as he does to his music and manners, I'd be charmed myself.' She dredged up sufficient small-talk to see the woman off pleasantly, to indicate that she was forgiven, but when she sought out her mother-in-law a few minutes later she felt anything but forgiving.

Virginia was making tea in the narrow kitchen which overlooked her small, well-tended garden.

'How could you, Virginia? How could you do such a thing without asking me first?'

'I knew you'd say no,' Virginia said with a smugness she must know was irritating. Clare's mouth drew into a tight line as. she stared at her mother-in-law. Virginia was smartly dressed and made-up, her short hair with its elegant grey rinse set in a flattering style. She carried her years well. Anyone looking at her would think that here was a kind-hearted, contented woman with a very positive approach to her declining years. In many ways she was exactly what she appeared to be, but there were other, less attractive forces at work that had caused much conflict within her family. Her stubborn, 'mother knows best' attitude towards her son, and her refusal to accept him for himself, had led to Lee's virtual estrangement from his parents for several years after his marriage to Clare. After his father's death from a heart attack the breach was healed, but after Lee's own death Clare often had cause to regret that Virginia hadn't kept to her original intention of washing her hands entirely of any responsibility for her son or his family. Having been independent herself from the age of sixteen, when her widowed mother had died, Clare found it tough to try to live up to the maternal expectations of someone to whom she had no ties but those of duty.

'And you knew why I'd say no. We've been over and over this, Virginia—'

'Well, you must admit you've got a blind spot about this, Clare—'

'I've got a blind spot?' Clare was torn between anger and amusement.

'Yes. Just because Lee turned his back on his classical training to take up with that awful band.' His mother shuddered at the memory of the group which Lee had formed and performed with as lead guitarist and vocalist. The fact that Kraken had been a raging success made no difference to her. Virginia was an accomplished pianist with very narrow classical tastes. Any other form of music wasn't worth considering, especially the 'noise' that modern rock bands turned out. '—doesn't mean that you shouldn't give his son a chance to exercise his talent.'

'Tim isn't even seven yet!' Clare was on familiar ground. Virginia's arguments were as narrow as her musical tastes. 'He has two lessons a week and he practises every day. On top of that he has all his normal schoolwork. He's not ready to cope with the kind of things you want to throw at him.'

'If you didn't live in that God-forsaken place Tim could have proper lessons and I wouldn't have to go behind your back to give him the opportunities he deserves.'

There it was. The 'mother knows best' argument. Only in this case Clare was the mother, and she didn't take her responsibilities lightly.

'Rotorua is hardly a wilderness, Virginia. It's one of New Zealand's foremost tourist centres—'

'Tourists!' Virginia sniffed disparagingly as she arranged the tea-tray and handed it to Clare to carry through to the lounge. 'If you lived here in Auckland you'd have access to the best violin teachers and the best facilities. And I could see a bit more of the only family I have left…'

One reason why Clare chose to live two hundred and fifty kilometres away!

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