Forgotten Fiancee Page 8

  She cried out when her moment came because she knew what she would lose when she seemed to gain everything. There was a price to be paid for such sweet fulfillment, and last time she’d paid it in tears and loneliness. But there was no way back, nothing but to give herself utterly to the explosive ecstasy they found together. It wasn’t her nature to offer only half of herself. As they reached the heights, she felt herself melting into him and was rewarded by the totality of his returning gift.

  As she returned to reality Sarah waited for Justin to leave her, as he’d always done before, impatient to resume his business, even after love.

  But he didn’t move. His head was heavy between her breasts. She enfolded it tenderly, stroking his hair, awed by the beauty of what she’d found again. At last she realized he had gone to sleep, holding her like a man who’d come safely to a place of refuge.

  Justin discovered he was in a strange place. All around him was a mist, and something seemed to drag at his feet, holding him back. On one side was a brick wall that he touched as he felt his way forward. Suddenly the wall turned a corner. His heart leaped as he understood what he sought was just around that corner. Only a little farther to go now.

  But at the last moment he found his way blocked by a man with his own face.

  Chapter Five

  Nick greeted Justin’s reappearance without surprise. Perhaps he didn’t sleep as heavily as Sarah thought. All he said next morning was, “Nice to see you back. I need someone to drive to the wholesalers. Sarah, you go, too, and show him the way. Any tea going?”

  They collected the goods and stopped in a farmhouse tea shop on the way back. The tables were under the trees, and they drank their tea accompanied by clucking chickens who’d learned where the pickings were good.

  “I had the strangest dream last night,” Justin said with a touch of awkwardness.

  “What happened?” Sarah asked, wondering if their reunion had restored some of his memory..

  “I dreamed that I tried to leave you, but I couldn’t. My feet turned themselves around in the road and made me walk back. And you were there, waiting for me, and you were all I thought you’d be.” He met her eyes, a touch of diffidence in his own. “It wasn’t a dream, was it, Sarah?”

  “If it was, I was dreaming the same dream.”

  “I was afraid it was just my own wishful thinking.”

  “And mine,” she said, smiling.

  In a short time Justin felt like a fixture in Haven. It wasn’t just his growing passion for Sarah. It was that her presence gave him a feeling of safety, as though she knew a secret he must learn from her. He’d never wanted safety in the past, but sometimes these days he felt like a drowning man with only her to cling to. At other times he knew only the glad certainty that she was there, and therefore all was right with the world.

  He began to help out with the shop. The first time he was left to cope on his own was a chastening experience. Being able to carry huge, complex deals in his head was little preparation for coping with people who wanted half a pound of cheese, the nice dark one—no, the other one over there—well, perhaps I won’t bother.

  There were a thousand small items, and a thousand different prices, and he survived only because his customers knew the stock better than he did,’ and were kind.

  It was while serving behind the counter that he made Joker’s acquaintance. Joker was sixteen and about to leave school. He was bright, bored and came marked Trouble with a capital T. Justin both liked and mistrusted him from the first moment.

  Before long his sharp eyes caught Joker shoplifting. It was always small items worth a few pennies, and he correctly deduced that the boy was doing it for the thrill and to impress his gang. “Why do you bother?” he demanded, exasperated. “I always catch you.”

  “That’s the fun,” Joker said. “No point if it’s too easy.”

  “Can’t you get your kicks some other way than robbing shopkeepers who can’t afford it?”

  “I don’t rob ‘em.” Joker was shocked. “I always give the stuff back—well, I do if I don’t get caught taking it. Putting it back’s as hard as pinching it. What else is there to do around here?”

  Sarah was sympathetic when Justin told her. “He’s right. Young people escape Haven as soon as they can. Like me, some of them come back later, when they’ve discovered how valuable this little place is. But one day I’m afraid there’ll be nothing to come back to.”

  Justin’s new skills included baby-sitting Nicky. Toddlers had never attracted him, but this one had claimed him as his own, and there was something about the child’s delight in his company that Justin couldn’t resist.

  Under Sarah’s cooking his body filled out again. To regain his strength he began hiring a horse from a nearby riding school. When she could Sarah joined him, and they explored the lovely countryside together. It was perfect weather for riding, warm and sunny, but not hot enough to be unpleasant. The land was at its best, glowing with all the colors of summer.

  “We can take a shortcut to the woods by going across Merton’s Farm,” she said. “There’s a rightof-way, although a lot of people don’t use it because Will Merton always makes himself unpleasant.”

  Merton was a weaselly little man with a whining voice and sharp eyes. He scowled but didn’t try to stop them. Halfway across his farm they stopped to greet a very large, shabbily dressed man. Sarah introduced him as Hal Jones, one of Merton’s farmhands. “Was the boss awkward about you coming through?” he asked cheerfully.

  “As usual,” Sarah said. “I don’t know why he makes such a fuss. We all stick to the paths and take care not to hurt his crops.”

  “Such as they are,” Justin observed, looking around him. “I’m no farmer, but surely the crop ought to look better than this?”

  “He won’t buy decent fertilizer,” Hal confided. “I worked here a few years ago, for his dad. It was a good farm then, but I left when Will took over. I bad to come back because jobs are scarce, and it breaks my heart. He squeezes every penny out of this place, but he’s too mean to put any back in, so it’s going to rack and ruin. The crop’s such rubbish that even the birds aren’t interested. Ol’ Timmy Bags has nowt to do these days.”

  “Timmy Bags?” Justin echoed.

  Hal pointed to the center of a field where a woebegone scarecrow flapped about. “He’s been there for years,” he said. “I dunno how he came to be called Timmy Bags, but it’s always been his name.”

  “’Ere, you—Hal!” They all turned to see Will Merton standing in the lane, waving furiously. “Do I pay you to stand about gabbing?” he yelled.

  “You barely pays me at all,” Hal muttered. “Mean ol’ scroat. Coming, Mr. Merton.” He gave Sarah and Justin a cheery wave and moved down the lane.

  Half a mile farther on Justin stopped and said, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  Through a gap in the trees they could discern a beautiful Tudor house. The walls were made of black timbers with white inserts. The red tiled roof glowed in the sun, and tall chimneys reached up to the sky.

  “It’s Merton’s farmhouse,” Sarah said. “I delivered something there once, and it’s just as beautiful inside, except that he doesn’t take proper care of it.”

  “It’s a crime a jewel like that belongs to Will Merton.”

  “He hates it. He’d like to knock it down, but it’s been officially registered as a building of historical interest, so he can’t.”

  They left the farm behind and rode into the country. They found a stream to water the horses, and sat entwined in each other’s arms. Passion would come later, but moments like these were equally precious. Sarah could sense the deep, physical content that pervaded Justin, and which came from simply being with her. His face was relaxed. She realized how often it was that way now, and wondered at the power that had forced him to turn on the road and come back to her. She felt caught up in something greater than her own understanding. But whatever it was, for now she was content to leave her fate in it
s hands.

  When he discovered that Sarah spent three nights a week rehearsing with the Haven Players, Justin joined them, too. This led to his meeting another village institution, the Grainger sisters, Lila and Thetis. They were in their sixties, one divorced, one unmarried. They lived together and made ends meet by running a baby-sitting service. The scarcity of teenagers made them much in demand, and when there was a gathering parents would first make their way to the Grainger cottage, bearing infants. Without these two women the social life of Haven would have ground to a halt.

  On Sarah’s rehearsal nights Nick often looked after the baby. But sometimes Nicky would be delivered to the Graingers, who adored him, so that Nick could enjoy an evening in the Haystack, playing Colly at chess, calling him rude names and receiving ruder ones in return.

  Justin’s first night with the drama society was an ordeal he was never to forget. Mrs. Lucinda Cates, the leader, called for quiet and climbed onto the tiny stage to address them. She was a portly little woman with gray hair and an arch manner. “We’re welcoming a new member tonight,” she announced. “His name’s Justin, and here he is.”

  There was applause as Justin stood up, trying not to look sheepish.

  “Now, Justin, we need to know what you can do,” Lucinda went on, “so I’ve got a scene here for you to read through.”

  He just stopped himself exclaiming, “Act?” in tones of dismay. After all, it was what he was supposed to be here to do.

  “You don’t mind doing a teensy weensy little audition, do you?” Lucinda asked waggishly. “All the greatest actors had to start that way, you know.”

  “Oh, er, yes, of course,” he said hastily. “It’s just that I saw myself in more of a backstage role—painting scenery, and—and carrying things.” A flash of sublime idiocy made him add, “I’m very good at carrying things.” He fell silent, feeling desperately that he was making a fool of himself. A titter from behind him confirmed it.

  “Of course,” Lucinda agreed. “But one of our members has dropped out of Laughing All the Way, and we need a replacement. You must imagine that you’re Frank, talking to Amy. Sarah’s playing Amy, so she’ll read the scene with you. Take a moment to look it over.”

  Justin read the scene and was aghast to find it was a declaration of love. But it was too late to back out. He went hot with embarrassment. It was worse when he was standing with Sarah on the stage. He felt horribly exposed.

  Sarah began, “I heard you wanted to see me, Frank.”

  “I never get a chance to talk to you, Amy,” he managed to say. “So now I’m going to say it all at once.” His voice sounded hollow. It was a relief to get to the end of the line.

  “Say what, Frank?” Sarah recited. “You make it sound important.”

  He took a deep breath and plunged into the avowal of love. He knew he was dreadful. He was worse than dreadful, he was abysmal. His body was awkward, and he had no control over his voice. He stumbled through to the end, wishing the earth would open and swallow him up.

  Fortunately Lucinda was a merciful woman. “Thank you, Justin,” she said. “That was very, er, very… We have lots of scenery that needs painting.”

  There was a chuckle from the others, and for an instant Justin was furious. Nobody was allowed to laugh at him. He was on the verge of uttering an icy comment when he caught Sarah’s eye. She was smiling sympathetically, and he suddenly knew he was at a crisis point. Sarah would expect a man to be able to take a joke against himself. Drawing on all his reserves of self-discipline, he forced himself to smile. “Don’t forget carrying things,” he said. “That’s my specialty.”

  This time the laugh was warmer. He’d passed the first test. Good nature. These people valued it.

  Red-faced, he took his seat beside Sarah. She squeezed his hand. “I think you’re very brave,” she said.

  “Go away,” he growled. “Let a man suffer in peace.”

  Sarah looked at him tenderly. She’d seen everything, including the moment when he nearly lost his temper. She remembered the speech he’d made at the reception the night they met. He’d been poised, selfconfident, a far cry from the awkward amateur of this evening. His audience had laughed at his well-crafted witticisms, but no one would have dared to laugh at him.

  He was still the man she’d seen that night, as his gleam of annoyance proved, but he’d mastered it. It was as though he had different priorities now.

  “What about me, Lucinda?” Alex Drew stood up, radiating assurance with his flashy good looks. “I’ll play Frank.”

  “You’re already playing the comic gardener,” Lucinda objected.

  “But they don’t meet. It’s only one scene, and I’ll have time to change.” He gave a charming grin. “And then the audience will say, ‘What a brilliant actor that Alex Drew must be!”

  “All right,” Lucinda said. “Let’s give it a try.”

  Sarah returned to the stage and read the scene again. To Justin’s chagrin Alex did it beautifully. He was a natural actor who made the trite lines sound good. Sarah was no more than competent, but with his skillful partnership she flowered. Justin ground his teeth.

  “Very well, Alex, you’ve got the part,” Lucinda called from the back of the hall.

  “Hooray!” Alex did a little jig. “I’ve been wanting the chance to make love to Sarah.” He seized her and bent her back against his arm in a theatrical simulation of a passionate kiss.

  “Get off, you idiot!” she said, laughing.

  “She spurns me! Calamity!” Alex struck his forehead and staggered away to throw himself against the wall as if distraught. The company cheered the bravura performance.

  Justin stayed in the shadows, hoping his feelings didn’t show on his face. It had been only in fun, of course. But if Alex had held Sarah a moment longer, he knew he couldn’t have answered for his own actions.

  Miss Timmins was the stage manager, and Justin was made her assistant. “I hope you don’t mind such a lowly position,” she said doubtfully. “You don’t look to me as though you’re used to taking orders.”

  “I am,” he said quickly. “Where I work, I’m just the tea boy, I swear it.”

  “Hmm!” Her bright, intelligent eyes regarded him.

  “Look, as long as nobody asks me to get up there and act…”

  “Don’t worry,” she said kindly. “After that audition, nobody will.” They laughed together.

  “What does the assistant stage manager have to do?” he asked.

  “All the jobs nobody else wants.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said with a grin.

  Justin soon developed a hearty respect for Miss Timmins. She had a clear head and a grasp of detail he could have used in his firm. She judged the world and everyone in it by the yardstick of the fitness of things. It was a phrase she never explained, but Justin gathered that it covered everything. If Miss Timmins judged someone to have no sense of the fitness of things, that someone was beyond redemption.

  His dislike of Alex grew daily. Alex constantly had the company in fits with his antics, including, Justin was annoyed to notice, Sarah. The boy had been spoilt since the day he was born, and whatever he wanted he thought was his by right. He could have had his pick of any of Haven’s young woman, several of whom had joined the Players to be near him. But it seemed to Justin’s jealous eyes that he homed in on Sarah.

  Someone else had noticed it, too. Imelda Drew, Alex’s mother, occasionally dropped in to rehearsals, explaining that, as a member of the parish council, she had a responsibility to ensure that the hall was used only for proper purposes. This fooled nobody.

  The tea break would arrive and Justin would hand around plastic cups as meekly as a waiter. Imelda would address Sarah with overpowering graciousness before urging Alex not to be home late, “because Lousia is dropping in.” To the others she would explain that Lousia was “an heiress, but such a sweet unspoilt girl. Alex and she are so fond of each other.” Her eyes, focused on Sarah, would be like gimlets. />
  “I don’t know how you stand, that woman,” Justin said one night as they left the rehearsal.

  Sarah shrugged. “I feel sorry for her. She’s so obvious. And she’s wasting her efforts. I haven’t set my cap at her little boy.”

  “You were laughing at him hard enough tonight.”

  “Of course I was. Alex is very funny. But that’s all.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?” he growled.

  Sarah squeezed his arm. It felt so sweet to know he was jealous. “Oh, stop making a mountain out of a molehill,” she said.

  Most of the company went to the Haystack, but Sarah headed straight home to release Uncle Nick from baby-sitting duties. “Has he been all right?” she asked as she went in.

  “Fine. Not a peep all evening. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be off for a pint. Coming, Justin?”

  “Thanks, but I’m worn out after an evening under Miss Timmins’s command.”

  Sarah went to look in on Nicky, who was sleeping peacefully. When she returned Justin was cooking the supper. “Mmm, lovely!” she said, sniffing appreciatively.

  He made baked beans and toast, almost the only thing he knew how to cook. As they washed up he said, “You’re very quiet. What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry, my mind’s still on the play. I just can’t get the hang of that scene. Alex says we should practise it together. Maybe it’ll come right then.”

  “You’re going to practise with Alex?” he asked in a hollow voice.

  “I’ve got to rehearse it with someone.”

  “Right. But not with Alex. Me.”

  “But you’re a terrible actor,” she blurted before she could stop herself. At once she clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said guiltily. “I’ve got this shocking way of making tactless remarks. I try not to, but they seem to come out anyway.”

  “Don’t try,” he said with a grin. “It’s true. But I’ll just be your stooge so you can say the lines.”

  “Fine. Thank you.” She handed him the book, took up her position, and recited, “I heard you wanted to see me, Frank.”