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after her dismal thoughts. ' Nice of you to come to
meet us.'
' Peter let me know you were coming.' He turned
round. ' How are things up there, Peter?'
' Worse than I expected,' Peter said. ' But we'll make
it.'
Claire waited, wondering what the next move was
to be. Had Simon been told to meet them in order
to take Deirdre to the hotel where he was staying?
Claire also wondered if Peter would tell Patrick to
take her to Molly's. Was this going to be the begin-
ning of the brush-off? Would Peter then write a
letter, giving her the sack?
'Where's Patrick?' Peter asked, and Claire tensed
herself tor what was to follow. Perhaps it was as well,
she told herself. The last weeks had been hard, the
next weeks would be harder. Maybe it was better to
face up to the truth and know that her ridiculous
dream had vanished for ever.
Patrick came hurrying. ' Sorry, sir, trouble with the
car.'
'Come in mine,' Simon offered. 'I'll drive you
167
home.'
Peter was frowning, Claire saw, as if some of his
carefully made plans were going awry, but he nodded.
' Thanks.'
Patrick carried their luggage to Simon's long red car
and Simon helped Claire into the front seat before
going into the driver's. Peter and Deirdre sat behind,
Deirdre chatting away, Peter unusually quiet. Was he
angry because of what had happened? Claire won-
dered. There was nothing she could do.
It seemed strange to be back in Sydney with its mad
whirl of traffic and the crazily arrogant pedestrians who
wandered across the busy roads, being a real hazard to
the drivers. Vauduse was it susual quiet self as they
turned off the main road. She saw Kuruwa and for
a moment felt the tears that were near. She loved
the house. It would break her heart when she could
never see it again . . .
Mrs Keater was there, thin and cheerful, but her
face changed when she saw Deirdre. However, she hid
it by making a fuss of Claire, asking about her poor
foot and had the holiday done her good.
They had drinks brought to them out in the garden,
the huge tree shading them from the sun.
Later when Simon said he must go as he had a
dinner date, he turned to Claire. ' Isn't your sister's
name Molly Chandler?'
" Yes.'
' I thought so. She's got five paintings in the exhibi-
tion at Mantel House. Very good write-up about them
in the papers. They say she's a promising artist.
Worth seeing, I should think.' '
Claire caught her breath. Whatever happened
Peter must not see those pictures. It could only ruin
the image of herself she had so carefully worked on.
' Yes, they're quite good,' she said casually. " Now,
168
I must go and bath. I feel so sticky.'
' Are they good paintings?' Deirdre asked. ' What
of?'
,'All sorts of things she'paints. Did you say five,
Simon?' Claire asked. ' I thought she only had four.'
Somehow she managed to escape, hurrying up to her
room. She did not want Deirdre to ask any more
questions.
CHAPTER X
Somehow, with incredible speed, they slipped back
into the original routine, the only difference being now
that Claire and Deirdre lived at Kuruwa. Peter went
off immediately after breakfast to the office, hardly see-
ing Claire, phoning from town to give her instructions.
Deirdre had breakfast in bed and then vanished, rarely
staying in the house unless Peter was there, which
suited Mrs Parsons and Mrs Keater very well.
' It's so good to have you back, duckie,' Mrs Parsons
said over their usual cuppa. ' And what did the doctor
say when you went yesterday for your check-up?'
' He was pleased, said the foot was doing well but
I'd be wise not to overtire it. No dancing, he said,'
Claire smiled. ' Not that I'm likely to get asked!'
' What about that nice young man that comes often
... Simon ... Simon West? He seems a nice type.'
' He is, very nice indeed,' Claire agreed.
Oddly enough, as so often happens, Simon rang that
same day.
' I hear Peter's taking Deirdre to a show tonight, so
I wondered if you'd have dinner with me?' Simon
asked.
Claire drew a deep breath. She had not known
Peter was taking Deirdre to the first night of the new
Agatha Christie play that was opening that night. He
had mentioned it casually, but had not said he was
going.
' I'd love to, Simon.'
' Good. I'll call for you at six. Okay?'
' That'll be fine,' Claire said as she put down the
receiver.
She was ready, wearing one of her most elegant
170
dresses, a leaf-green long dress, and was in the hall
when Peter returned.
' You're ready very early,' he said.
' I'm dining with Simon.'
He frowned. ' I thought you were coming with us
to see Agatha Christie's latest play.'
' I didn't know I'd been asked.'
' That's absurd! I told Deirdre I'd got the tickets.
Perhaps you prefer Simon's company.'
The doorbell rang. ' That'll be Simon,' said Claire,
walking past Peter. ' I hope you enjoy the play.;
It was Simon. He smiled, but looked surprised as
Claire hurried through the door, closing it behind
her.
' What's the rush?' he asked.
' I want to get away,' she said, almost running down
the paved path to the car. As she got in, she looked
. at him. ' Did Deirdre tell you Peter was taking her
to the play?'
He looked puzzled as he started the car. 'Yes, she
did. She said: "Peter's taking me to the play this
evening. It should be good." Why?'
' Because Peter said he'd thought I was going with
them that he'd told Deirdre he'd got the tickets.
Deirdre didn't tell me.'
Simon chuckled. ' Peter's loss is my gain. I thought
we'd go out of town. There's a new place where it's
not too crowded.'
It was pleasant being with Simon, Claire was think-
ing, as they chatted. But she could not forget the look
on Peter's face as he saw her waiting in the hall. He'd
been annoyed but who with? Claire for preferring,
as he obviously thought, Simon to him, or Deirdre, if
by chance he had believed Claire, for not telling her
about the tickets?
The new restaurant was pleasant a glass-surrounded
171
hall, protruding out over the ocean so that the sound
of the huge waves as they came racing in added to the
music of the small band. The sole bonne femme was
delicious, the wine good, the strawberries ripe. The
whole evening was pleasant, Claire thought, but then
she was always happy with Simon.
As they drove home, she was surprised when he
turned down a quiet cul-de-sac and parked the car on
the .grass verge opposite the wide-apart houses. It was
just above the harbour and the lights were twinkling,
the bridge bright.
' I want to talk to you,' he said abruptly, turning in
his seat.
' What about?' Claire asked, a little sleepily.
" Us.'
That surprised her and really woke her up. " Us?'
she echoed.
'Yes, us, Claire.' He took her hand in his and
gently flexed each finger in turn, looking down at them
thoughtfully. ' You know I love you.'
'Oh no!' she said quickly, jerking her hand free.
' No, Simon, please, no.'
'I was afraid you'd say that, but I hoped you
wouldn't,' he told her, folding his arms as if he could
not trust them to leave her alone. ' I've loved you for
a long time, but I never said anything as it seemed
BO hopeless.'
' You knew . . . you knew?'
' Yes, I knew,' he said wearily. " You love Peter,
don't you?'
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