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how could she be sure?
'He can be formidable!' James Allardyce grimaced,
watching her troubled face. 'Is something wrong Prue? Was Josh
offhand with you? He isn't still furious over the accident, is he? But
he can't blame you your fiancé was driving, not you! I'm sorry I
couldn't pick you up myself, but...'
'I know, he explained wandering sheep!' She wound a hand through
his arm, leaning on him. 'I understood. I'd have done the same in your
place.'
He looked surprised, staring down at her. 'Would you?'
'I know I'm my mother's daughter, but I'm also yours, Dad don't
forget that!' She smiled reassuringly, and he put an arm around her,
hugging her.
'I won't! Now,, come and see your room. I've put you in your old
room I wonder if you'll remember it?'
'Of course I will. I remember everything,' she said, following him into
the stone hall. The floor had highly polished red tiling; there was a
fireplace big enough for a child to stand up in, in which she
remembered hiding. On either side of it, in alcoves, were wooden
benches and above them dark oak bookshelves. She stood there,
inhaling the remembered scent of lavender polish, beeswax, flowers.
Her father went ahead, carrying her case up the winding, creaking
stair leading to the first floor. She followed slowly, and now it was a
sound she remembered. How many times as a child had she lain in
bed and listened for the creak of her father's footsteps on the stairs?
Farmers went to bed early, rose early that was something else her
mother had hated about the life here.
James Allardyce put her suitcase down and Prue stood in the
doorway, looking around her at the dark- beamed ceiling, the neat
little bed with a pink satin quilt and a pile of crisp white pillows, the
polished oak floorboards on which home-made tufted mats were
scattered, the chintz curtains sprinkled with apple-blossom print. She
recognised it all; even the dressing-table fittings were the same.
'Nothing has changed!' she said wonderingly, and her father smiled at
her, then his face changed, a sadness in his smile.
'A lot of things have changed, I'm afraid. You, for instance you're
all grown up, not my little girl any more . .. and your mother ...' His
voice broke off, he turned and looked out of the window, his back to
her. After a moment he said, 'I'm so happy to have you back here,
Prue. I don't wish your fiancé any harm, I'm sure I'll like him very
much, but I'm not sorry to have you to myself for a while instead of
having to share you with him.'
He didn't wait for Prue to answer, he swung round and made for the
door before she could get out a word. 'Why don't you take your time
to get used to the place again? If you need me, I'll be in my office.'
It was a peaceful day from then on; Prue unpacked and settled into
her old room, then went downstairs and wandered around the house
and garden, revisiting her childhood and feeling disorientated yet
quietly happy.
Her father found her sitting on the old swing under the apple tree, a
sheepdog beside her. Looking up at the sound of his footsteps, Prue
asked, 'This isn't old Bess, is it, Dad? She hasn't changed a hair.'
He grimaced. 'Bess died years ago, I'm afraid that's her daughter,
Meg.'
'Oh, poor old Bess,' Prue said, saddened. 'So, you're Meg, are you? I
knew your mother, long ago.'
James Allardyce watched her ruffling the dog's black and white ears.
Smiling, he said, 'I came out to tell you lunch was ready.'
'You didn't cook it yourself?' Prue stood up, looking stricken. 'I meant
to help you, not make more work for you to do!'
'1 would have had to get myself lunch, anyway. Cooking for two is no
harder.' Her father smiled at her. in fact, it's easier, because it is more
fun! Eating alone gets to be a bore.'
Prue wondered if he had been very lonely all these years. Why hadn't
she written? She had just pushed him out of her mind, hadn't she? Did
he resent that? she wondered, following him back into the house, but
although she watched her father secretly she saw no signs of either
resentment or reproach.
Next morning she rang the hospital, only to be told that David still [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]