Unwary Heart Page 3

  ‘Come on in,’ Kathleen shouted. ‘It’s glorious!’

  For half an hour they all played and swam together, and when they came out Andrew picked up Muriel’s wrap and put it round her shoulders.

  ‘Are you going to like your first cruise?’ he asked, smiling down at her in his most charming manner.

  ‘Yes, oh, yes, I’m sure I am,’ she returned impulsively, forgetting her role for the moment. ‘It’s all so new and exciting.’

  Andrew frowned, and took a good look at her. She seemed much younger in her swim-suit... Not nearly as old as he had thought, and not so experienced, either. But she was doing very well, and she’d improve with practice. A touch of contempt curved his lips, to be replaced by a smile as Bill and Kathleen came up to them. They were laughing and obviously enjoyed each other’s company very much indeed.

  ‘We’re coming again tonight,’ Kathleen said, shaking out her curls, ‘for a moonlight bathe. Are you two coming?’

  Muriel looked up at Andrew, waiting breathlessly for his reply.

  ‘Would you care to, Miss Paterson?’

  ‘Yes, I’d love it. I’ve never been moonlight bathing before.’

  ‘There’s a first time for everything,’ he said, and added, ‘You swim remarkably well. Do you do much of it?’

  ‘I used to, but our baths closed down and the nearest is ten miles away—at Barston.’

  ‘Barston?’ Bill shot Andrew a glance. ‘You live ten miles from Barston?’

  ‘Yes; do you know it?’

  Andrew’s eyes were narrowed. So she lived near Barston, did she?

  ‘I live there,’ Bill answered, glancing again at his friend. ‘You must know Andrew’s place, then?’

  Muriel shook her head; Andrew watched her intently, his eyes still narrowed.

  ‘No, I don’t.’ She stared. ‘Burke and Groves...? Is that you?’

  How well she did it! He felt almost tempted to remind her that the Worsleys had already told her who he was, but that would spoil everything. She must not discover he was as clever as she—not yet.

  ‘I am the first half,’ he replied smoothly. ‘It’s a small world, Miss Paterson.’

  Burke and Groves ... the large electrical works in the ‘Park’, Barston’s great industrial centre, and employing thousands of men and women...

  ‘Do you live in Barston, Mr. Burke?’

  ‘I live thirty miles from Barston, in the country.’ He then abruptly changed the subject and after arranging to meet on the sports deck after breakfast they went their separate ways.

  When she had dressed Muriel went along to her aunt’s cabin; the steward had brought fruit, but it lay untouched on the little chest by the bed.

  ‘Are you worse, Aunt Edith?’ she gasped in concern.

  ‘Of course I’m worse,’ snapped the old lady, thinking again of all the meals she was paying for and not eating. ‘What are you gaping at? I know I’m white, but there’s no need to stand there as if you’d seen a ghost!’

  ‘Shouldn’t you have the doctor?’ Muriel began.

  ‘I’m not paying for any doctor—don’t believe in them, you know that. I’ve never had a doctor in my life and I don’t intend starting now. Have you had your breakfast?’

  ‘Not yet; I was just going, but I think I’ll stay with you.’

  ‘You will do nothing of the kind. It’s enough for one of us to miss the meals. Run along, and don’t come back till after lunch.’

  ‘After lunch? Aunt Edith, you can’t lie here all alone, and with nothing to—to—’

  ‘If you mention food,’ her aunt warned darkly, ‘I’m liable to have another attack right now.’ She waved a hand in dismissal. ‘Go and get your breakfast—wait a moment. What are our table people like?’

  ‘Very nice; a middle-aged couple and most friendly.’

  ‘Good. Pleasant table companions can make such a difference to a cruise.’ She paused, her pale eyes stern. ‘I wonder what they thought of you in those disgusting clothes, and with all that rubbish on your face?’

  ‘They didn’t find anything unusual in my appearance,’ Muriel replied stiffly. ‘I’m only in the fashion.’

  ‘Fashion, my foot; you looked ridiculous! But I suppose they were too polite to show any surprise. Did you take notice of what I said?’

  Muriel flushed and hesitated for a moment.

  ‘Mrs. Worsley introduced me to two gentlemen,’ she began cautiously. ‘And one of them is a partner in the firm of Burke and Groves in Barston—you know it, of course?’

  ‘Barston?’ She looked surprised, and then shrugged lightly. ‘It’s funny how one always seems to meet people from one’s own part of the country on these cruises. Burke and Groves, did you say?’ She broke of, eyeing her niece suspiciously. ‘Did you vamp him?’

  Really, Aunt Edith’s lack of delicacy was outrageous, Muriel thought, her cheeks burning more hotly than ever.

  ‘I did not, and I have no intention of vamping anyone. I wouldn’t know how, anyway.’

  ‘You said last night that that was your intention—’

  ‘I didn’t!’ she protested indignantly. ‘I said I intended to try to attract someone—’

  ‘You’d have attracted someone a darned sight easier if you’d remained as you were,’ her aunt told her scathingly. ‘You look thirty and as worldly as a baggage.’

  ‘I don’t! You have no right to speak to me like this simply because I’ve acquired a little glamour. It’s the fashion to be glamorous—look what it’s done for Christine, she’s had four proposals of marriage in four months. Men never even look at a girl who has no glamour—at least,’ she amended knowledgeably, ‘rich men don’t.’

  ‘You not only look like a baggage,’ the old lady retorted, ignoring her protests, ‘you also talk like one. Do you suppose this Burke fellow will fall for you? Is it Burke you’ve met?’

  ‘Yes...’ She stared musingly into space. ‘I think he must like me, for he’s arranged to meet me after breakfast. And this evening we’re going moonlight bathing—’

  ‘You’re what?’

  ‘Please, Aunt Edith, there’s no need to look so shocked. Bill—that’s the other young man—and his friend Kathleen suggested it, so there can’t be anything unusual in it.’

  But Aunt Edith, her ideas of propriety outraged, silenced her with an imperative wave of the hand.

  ‘You’re going on no moonlight bathing escapade,’ she said inexorably, ‘so you can get the idea right out of your head. You came on this trip as my companion and you’ll stay here with me tonight.’

  ‘But you said you didn’t want me till you were better.’ Muriel was almost in tears. ‘You said you couldn’t bear to have anyone with you when you were like this.’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. You’ll stay and keep me company this evening; come straight here when you’ve had your dinner.’

  There was no arguing with her. Besides, Muriel thought, she had come as her aunt’s companion and therefore she’d never expected complete freedom on the cruise.

  ‘Very well,’ she said, her voice quivering with disappointment. ‘Is there anything you want now?’

  ‘No, go and get your breakfast.’

  The orchestra was playing light music in the forward lounge; Muriel and Andrew, hot and tired after their game of deck tennis, sat down and relaxed while waiting for the others to join them. Then they all sipped iced lemonade and chatted. After a while Muriel said she would not be joining them that evening, after all.

  ‘I thought your aunt preferred to be alone when she was ill?’ Andrew was watching her curiously.

  ‘She did want to be alone last night—but she wants me with her this evening.’ Muriel realized that she ought not to have used the word ‘want’; it seemed to reveal everything. Andrew’s expression strengthened the idea; he appeared to have reached a conclusion. Had he guessed that she was here as her aunt’s companion? she wondered, remembering Christine’s warning about keeping her poverty a secret.

  ‘Th
at’s rotten luck,’ Kathleen said. ‘But we’re not going till eleven, you know. Surely she’ll want to go to sleep before then?’

  Muriel’s eyes lit up; it was unlikely that her aunt would keep her much after eleven.

  ‘I might be able to have half an hour—I’ll try.’

  ‘You’ll not be dancing at all, though.’ Andrew seemed to make no effort to hide his disappointment and a tingling of pleasure swept through her—No, she told herself, it was gratification she felt. She shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What about this afternoon?’ Bill interposed. ‘How about exploring the ship and getting our bearings? Or perhaps you’d like some more deck games?’ He smiled accommodatingly at them in turn. ‘I’m willing to do anything—You choose, Muriel.’

  ‘I’m willing to do anything you want,’ she smiled. ‘It’s all new to me so I’ll enjoy myself whatever we do.’ She turned an anxious glance in Andrew’s direction; it occurred to her that he might not want to be with her all the time. But there was a smile on his face and he suggested they meet after lunch and decide then what they would do.

  Alone in her cabin, Muriel breathed a little sigh of contentment but, catching sight of herself in the mirror, a frown shaded her brow. ‘He would never even have noticed me otherwise,’ she reminded herself. ‘It’s the glamour that’s attracted him; he likes it, so nothing else matters.’ But it was an awful bother having to do all this every time she washed her face, she thought disconsolately, as she applied the glamour again before going out to join Mr. and Mrs. Worsley in the dining saloon.

  Mrs. Worsley passed her the menu, telling her they had ordered sirloin steaks from the grill. Muriel ordered the same, finishing off with cherry pie and whipped cream. How her mother would love all this luxury, she thought, looking round the room with its mirrors and flowers and lovely maple panelling.

  Her companions chatted the whole time, telling her they had met several more people they knew. They had seen Muriel and her friends on the sports deck, ‘thoroughly enjoying themselves, by the look of things’, and wasn’t Muriel glad that they’d insisted on introducing her to such nice young men as Mr. Burke and Mr. Raines?

  Muriel said yes, thanked them for doing so, and answered their questions about Aunt Edith.

  ‘She thinks she’ll be here for dinner tomorrow evening. She looked very ill this morning, but says she’s sure to be better at the end of two days.’

  Andrew came over then and, sitting in Aunt Edith’s chair, talked sport for a few minutes with Mr. Worsley. Then he asked Muriel if she was ready. She couldn’t decide whether or not it was imagination, but there seemed to be a hint of the proprietorial in his tone as he said,

  ‘Yes? Well, then, let’s be off.’

  Certainly there was possessiveness in the way he took her arm, and Muriel felt herself quivering with an emotion that was both new and disturbing.

  The afternoon flew on golden wings; Muriel had never been so blissfully happy in her life. She told herself it was because everything was so strange and exciting; because she was with pleasant people, and, for the first time since she could remember, she was away completely from jarring quarrels and oppressive disunion.

  They followed Bill’s suggestion and explored the ship, spent a lazy hour on deck, taking dips in the pool or merely lying in the sun, acquiring a tan. They took tea on the verandah, then attended the sports meeting in the lounge. A sports committee was formed with Mr. Worsley being elected as chairman.

  ‘We’ll see you about eleven, then?’ Kathleen said when they came out.

  ‘I’ll try to be there, but I won’t promise.’ Muriel again felt Andrew’s eyes regarding her strangely.

  At eleven o’clock she suggested that her aunt might wish to go to sleep, but the old lady shook her head.

  ‘Think I don’t know the pool’s open till midnight?’ she said. ‘Well, I do, my girl, and you’re staying here for another half hour at least. What’s the matter with you? Have you finished your book?’

  ‘I’m tired of reading.’

  ‘Tired of sitting here with me, you mean. Say it, child, I don’t mind!’

  ‘I came as your companion,’ Muriel returned quietly, ‘so I must therefore make your wishes my first consideration.’

  ‘What a martyr you sound.’ The old eyes glinted with sudden humour, then darkened almost at once. ‘I suppose you believe I’m enjoying your company?’ and when Muriel remained silent, ‘I’m not! For one thing, your face annoys me—do you wash all that stuff off or just plaster more on top?’

  Still no reply. Muriel sat upright in the chair by the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, looking exceedingly sorry for herself.

  ‘What time is it?’ asked her aunt after what seemed an eternity to Muriel.

  ‘Ten past eleven.’

  ‘Is that all?’ Aunt Edith grunted impatiently and sat up to shake her pillow. ‘You’re a damned nuisance, Muriel; I wish I’d never brought you! You’re more trouble than a baby!’

  ‘If you don’t want me why can’t I go? I’ll give you my promise that I’ll go straight to my cabin.’

  ‘And nip into a bathing suit and be off like a shot to the pool? No, my girl, you stay here where I can see you. I don’t know what sort of tricks you’ll be up to, parading on deck at midnight with practically nothing on!’

  ‘We wouldn’t be parading on the deck! And what tricks—?’ She pulled herself up abruptly. To pursue such a subject might result in unspeakable embarrassment. No telling what Aunt Edith might come out with. But, strangely, it was the thought that her aunt distrusted Andrew which made her angry. He was good and fine and decent. She knew it, and Aunt Edith would know it, too, when she had met him. ‘If I promise you I’ll go straight to bed will you let me go?’

  Her aunt hesitated; she was tired, and heartily sick of the girl. Who would have thought she’d have to be watched like this?

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘Yes, Aunt Edith.’

  ‘Very well, be off with you, then ... and Muriel...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I shall ask you in the morning if you’ve kept that promise. And don’t think you can lie to me, because I’m very shrewd.’

  ‘I have no intention of breaking my promise,’ Muriel said stiffly, and left the cabin.

  At six o’clock the following evening Aunt Edith sought Muriel out on deck. The introductions over, she and Andrew surveyed each other with unveiled astonishment.

  His height alone would attract attention anywhere, thought Aunt Edith, tilting her head right back to examine with approval the finely-moulded features, the firm cast of his mouth, the broad line of his shoulders. She felt at a complete loss to account for his interest in Muriel; now if the child had been her natural, demure little self—

  Andrew’s surprise was even greater than hers. In startling contrast to her niece’s clothes, there was no pretention to fashion in the black silk dress which hung rather untidily on her small, bony figure; her hair was grey and wispy and so thin that her scalp shone pinkly through it. Her chin was pointed and aggressive, her eyes, set in a tiny wrinkled face, were regarding her niece with marked disapproval. He frowned. If the old lady disapproved of the girl why had she brought her?—for it was clear that Muriel had to do as she was told, therefore her aunt must have paid for the trip.

  He dismissed the matter with a shrug of his shoulders and turned to say something to Bill. Muriel heaved a sigh of relief, for it was plain that her aunt was favourably impressed by Andrew. Then a little shadow crossed her face as she wondered how much free time her aunt would allow her. But she had promised her some, and she had announced her intention of keeping to her habit of going to bed at ten o’clock.

  Aunt Edith was very good company and soon she had the whole party laughing at one of her jokes. She had married a bluff Lancashire cotton magnate, enormously wealthy but, Andrew soon gathered, a raw product. From him she had acquired both her forthrightness and her accent. Her amazing
wit was undoubtedly a gift and she was soon to become, as always, the most popular person on board.

  She lived in a small cottage at the end of a row of four which she owned; she did all her own housework and gardening and openly admitted that she managed on her rents. She also admitted quite frankly that she would walk miles for her eggs if she heard of one farmer selling them a penny a dozen cheaper than the rest. Yes, concluded Andrew, a truly remarkable woman was Aunt Edith; a skinflint, undoubtedly, but he liked her.

  At the dinner table her wit flowed; Mr. Worsley had a loud and infectious laugh and the people at the adjacent table, unable to resist it, joined in, looking slightly envious and most likely wishing they could move a little nearer to the woman who was causing all this hilarity.

  When dinner was over Mr. Worsley, reluctant to let her go, pressed her to join him and his wife at tombola in the lounge.

  ‘I want to hear some more,’ he chuckled, wiping his eyes. ‘I don’t know how you remember them all. The only ones I seem able to remember are—well, not exactly the drawing-room type.’

  ‘Yes?’ Aunt Edith’s face was wooden. ‘But those are not really funny, are they? As for my store, I’ve been on about thirty cruises and I suppose I’ve heard hundreds, so that whatever the conversation one or two come to mind.’

  She agreed to join them, and remained with them for the rest of the trip, leaving Muriel quite free to do what she liked.

  ‘I needn’t have brought you, after all,’ she told her, thinking of the money she could have saved. ‘But one can’t always be sure of joining up with nice people like the Worsleys. However, now that you are here, enjoy yourself. I like that Mr. Burke and I don’t think you’ll come to any harm with him—not that I can see what he finds attractive in a hussy like you, I’m sure,’ she added with a glance of distaste at Muriel’s very brief shorts.

  Muriel coloured and said nothing. For some reason she had begun to wish she could start all over again. Her own clothes, she knew, were totally unsuitable for a trip like this, yet she would have given anything to have them here. Her little white dance dress, her own swimsuit, and her one best afternoon dress with its lace collar which fastened primly up to her neck. Upon reflection, however, she realized that, even if she had them here, she couldn’t wear them now without causing some considerable astonishment. Besides, she thought dejectedly, without her glamour she wouldn’t have received a second glance from Andrew.