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could come.'
'Perhaps you should have brought her, anyway.'
'And have her sabotage the whole weekend? Clare, I could reason with her until Kingdom-come—she'll hear only what she wants to, those things that reinforce her prejudices about you, about me, about the world of conspiracy that stops her being happy. We'll be back tomorrow evening, and perhaps by then she might have calmed down enough to open the lines of communication. I want her to realise that it's herself she's punishing, more than me, with this silent treatment.'
'You…you did tell her that nothing happened…' Clare began, trailing off unhappily when he measured her with a look.
'But something did happen, Clare.'
'Well, I hope you told her that we wouldn't be… I mean that I'll be staying at Virginia's while you're at the school.'
'But you're not.'
'W…what?'
That had been the first shock. That David had rung Virginia and told her of a change of plan. To fully appreciate the family atmosphere of the school, Clare would be spending the night there.
'But…I…'
'It's all arranged, so you may as well save your breath,' David told her with a hard-edged satisfaction that struck an oddly discordant note. 'Virginia's on my side on this one; she'd make your life hell if you tried to stay there now. She wants the school to grab every chance it can get to convince you of its merits.'
'I could book in at a hotel,' Clare said loftily, knowing that he was right.
'Then make sure it's a double room, because where you go, I go.'
His presumption was galling. 'If you think I'm going to Auckland for any reason other than to look at the school—'
'You mean like a little sexual fling? I wouldn't dream of it. The chaste Widow Malcolm? Unthinkable! Don't worry, Clare, your priceless virtue will be safe at the school. No late-night visitors allowed in the staff bedrooms. We have to set a good example for the children; you know how embarrassingly honest they can be. You'll be quite safe. Lonely, maybe, but safe…'
Clare was bewildered by his sarcasm. All right, so she had jumped to the conclusion he wanted her to stay at his house and was offended by it; there was no need for him to sneer at her prudery. Clare turned away from him to look out the window at the rolling green countryside gliding below. She shouldn't feel betrayed. She had known all along what he wanted. Still, to hear it put in such crude terms, as a 'fling', was like a knife in her wary heart. She wished she could order the pilot to turn around and take her back, but she couldn't act so selfishly. For Tim's sake she had to go through with this, and do her best to judge the school with an unbiased eye.
The rest of the short, interminable flight was passed in silence. Several times Clare felt David looking at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. He could damned well apologise if he expected her to be civil. Just because she loved him didn't mean that he could walk all over her!
The helicopter had special permission to land in the huge, park-like grounds of the school, and Clare was for once relieved at the sight of a bunch of strangers waiting to welcome them. David was the essence of politeness as he introduced her to several of the teaching and household staff, relaxing into a warmth of smiles as he answered the shouted questions of the excited children as they inspected the impressive helicopter. David introduced them, too, all by name without having to fumble for an identity even once, and Clare was amused at the enthusiastic offers to show her around. David brushed them off with a casual authority, and then selected three of the older children who could be spared from the festival rehearsal. One of them, a teenage boy, had a gravity that reminded her of Tim, but the other two, a girl and a boy, were completely unawed by the task of escorting their beloved maestro and his guest. They were vocal guides, and Clare was soon overwhelmed by their eager friendliness, and their pride in 'their' school. She was shown a lavish array of equipment, and informed that there were only six to eight children in each class. Several timetables ran simultaneously throughout the day to cater to the different age levels, so that both music-rooms and school-rooms were constantly in use by one class or another. Studying them, Clare had to agree that they were marvellously efficient. Timetables were considered by staff and pupils alike as both sacrosanct and an in-joke. Clare hadn't really believed David's grandiose claims that the school was like an enlarged family, but after joining the children for lunch in the big dining-room—a simple, wholesome meal of vegetable soup, salad, brown bread, fruit and cheese—and wandering around the rest of the school and grounds she had to admit that she hadn't found a single thing to criticise. The children seemed immensely at ease with themselves and each other, and full of a loyal camaraderie that didn't even resent forfeiting a free weekend at home in favour of representing the school at the festival.
When David excused himself to attend to some business with the musical director, Clare had a short meeting with the principal and was then shown to a small, attractive room near the kitchen by Brenda Sutcliffe, the matron.
She was very chatty and informative, and apologised for the smallness of the room. 'But we have quite a few parents here this weekend, so we just have to make do.'
'If it's a problem, I could go and stay with my mother- in-law—' Clare began.
'Oh, no, it's no problem,' Brenda said warmly. A short, motherly-looking woman in her mid-fifties, she was obviously used to soothing both parents and children. 'At a pinch we can always avail ourselves of the extra rooms at David's, but I try and avoid that if I can. The poor man gets little enough privacy as it is. He really is marvellously tolerant… with children, anyway.' .A small, conspiratorial smile. 'It's the adults he tends to get testy with.'
'I know the feeling,' said Clare drily.
'Oh, he'll be on his best behaviour with you,' Brenda reassured her innocently. 'He always is when he has his eye on someone special.'
Clare nearly blushed, then she realised that Brenda was talking about Tim. Of course David wouldn't have been so blatant as to say he had his eye on the mother for reasons other than his precious school!
'Well, I'll leave you to unpack. The bathroom is just down the hall to your left. Because of the concert we're just having a snack at five-thirty, our usual dinner-time in winter, and the proper meal when they come back; but I'll make sure you and David have something more substantial. From my very meagre experience, these society parties don't usually feed you more than prissy bites until the wee hours.'
'Society party?' Clare looked at Brenda blankly.
'Oh, dear, is it supposed to be a surprise? David didn't tell me not to mention it.' Brenda sighed. 'For a man who lives such a highly organised life, he can be annoyingly forgetful sometimes. He said that you and he would be going on from the concert to a private party at the Regent. Some sort of posh fund-raiser for the youth arm of the NZSO.'
If David had forgotten to mention it, Clare was sure the omission was deliberate, another attempt at manipulation.
'Well, he didn't say anything to me, so naturally I didn't bring anything suitable to wear. I couldn't possibly go.'
