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Dear Deceiver(14)

By:Doris E. Smith


'Well, what about sitting in it?' he invited next moment, pouring her a  sherry. 'Quite safe, I'd say. It will hardly remember you so long after,  and in any case you've changed. Not too much, I hope,' he added to no  one in particular.

He went on to warn her about the meal. 'I don't know how it's going to  turn out. Jennie's O.C. tonight.' Mrs. Ryan who came in to look after  Toby and himself was being temperamental and had not been seen for the  past few days. Haidee asked shrewdly if this could be because she had  not taken to having the household increased on the distaff side. She  used the term as a joke. 'That's it in a nutshell,' Rory responded  matter-of-factly. 'It seems she thinks a walk should not have two cocks.  Especially on the distaff side.'

It suited Haidee. Taking on the housekeeping would be a way of paying  for her keep. She said so and was greeted by a flicker of irritation.

'Since when do you have to pay for your keep? This is your home even if  you do seem to have forgotten the fact.' Fortunate perhaps that the  combined entry of Jennie and Toby at this point prevented further  discussion. Toby drew his father's eyes at once.

'I thought I told you to change your shirt.'

'Oh, heavens, must he?' Jennie's anxious voice interposed. 'I don't  think the meat will keep hot. Sorry.' Her face had lost its matt  appearance and to Haidee's concern her hands trembled as they set down  what looked like a chipped-to-a-cinder roast.

They ate it manfully, Toby alone having to be assisted to the task by a paternal: 'And what are you staring at? Get on with it.'

'Sorry, I'm afraid it's not very good,' Jennie said contritely. 'The book was a bit confusing.'

Perhaps one should say nothing, perhaps one should be more positive.  Haidee plumped for the latter. 'Never mind. It's a lot better than the  first dinner I cooked for Mrs. Brown.' There was no necessity to add  that at the time she had been nine years old, any more than it was  possible to interpret the sudden gleam in the eye of the  Forester-in-Charge. Was it derision or sympathy? One thing was assured,  his sympathy for Jennie. He ate the maltreated beef with well-feigned  relish and made conversation with urbanity.

It was mostly about Glenglass. The forest consisted of two thousand  productive acres and about five hundred scrub. He had eight men with  him, 'not enough, but what can you do?' The house was coming down after  Christmas and the site would in future support a purpose-built research  unit and forestry extension school similar to the extension school in  Avondale. A new Forester's house was already under construction into  which he and Toby would move. Jennie, of course, 'one of these fine  days' (he made it sound quite tender) would be going back to school.  'But we hope she'll find time to come over to Ireland in the holidays  and stay with us.' School was in Surrey.

Jennie's brow was already furrowing. 'I don't know what to say about school, Rory. I've been thinking perhaps I shouldn't...'

'Think nothing,' she was commanded. 'Except about those A-levels. You are going to stagger us all, the way your father planned.'

So far as Suzanne, real or substitute, was concerned she appeared quite  superfluous as a prop for Jennie's future. It seemed to be in capable if  domineering hands.

However, she now had a consolation prize-the chores.

The meal ended and everyone, Toby included, helped to clear it away. The  kitchen, no less than the sitting-room, had much to be salvaged before  the bulldozers moved in. The sink unit and the formica working tops  finished to look like wood could have served the needs of a far bigger  family than just a man and a boy. Jennie had taken possession of the  sink, so Haidee took up a tea towel and remained at the ready. Rory, who  had previously chased Toby back to his books, went after him, leaving  the girls alone.                       
       
           



       

Brand, who thought Haidee had done some daft things in her time but  never one quite so incomprehensible as this, walked round the avocado  tiles expressing his disgust. This was a rotten pad. People here were  taking no notice of him.

Why wasn't she taking him home? He looked for the table whose legs he  scratched when he wanted to go out, and blow me, there wasn't such a  thing. Pan almighty! what a place, he yeowled.

Haidee knew she must not fuss too much about Brand. He was there on  sufferance and sad to say he had not made his customary conquest. She  turned to lay a plate down on the counter and flinched as he sprang  angrily up her back.

'Heavens,' said Jennie, staring. 'I never saw a cat do that before.'

Brand had achieved a tiny corner of home. He dug his claws ecstatically  into Haidee's shoulder and purred. He was heavy and the pain was  excruciating, but it was his special thing and you might as well have  Morecambe without Wise. She said so. Jennie' did not smile. But she did  seem to be trying to understand and that, somehow, made it worse. Her  eyes were like melting chocolate, her mouth with the drooping underlip  was still and serious.

'I don't like cats much. Sorry,' she said apologetically. 'You really  will have to watch him. They set traps, you know, for the badgers.'

Once again Haidee felt a little sick. It must have shown in her face.

'It's not their fault,' Jennie added hastily. 'Badgers are very destructive. They have to. Honestly.'

'I just hate the thought of it,' Haidee confessed.

'Yes, I know. You're not a bit what I expected. When I was small and  Mother used to talk about you I decided you must be a sort of witch  putting spells on all the men. Awfully silly-me, I mean. But Mother  really didn't describe you well.'

Haidee put two hands to Brand's ample girth and carried him into the  sitting-room. There was no sign of her host, but Toby was at the table.  The cap of his pen was to his lips and he was gazing into space. How  long had he been sitting there? Not a letter, figure or line had managed  to get itself on to the page of exercise book.

She let Brand down and tapped the table. 'Hi!'

'Hi yourself!' Toby responded amicably.

She could imagine what Rory would have said to such licence. But  something about Toby called to her. He got such short innings with his  father. It could be a very lonely life.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Nothing. I've finished.' He closed the book. 'Some of the boys take all  night over their homework. I get it done in about five minutes.' He had  such a bright bonny face that it seemed likely.

'What subjects do you like best?'

'I don't know. All of them. I'm good at everything,' Toby said modestly.

'So I suppose one of these fine days you'll be getting a scholarship?'

When you said: 'Good boy' to Brand his greeny-gold eyes always looked as  though they were saying: 'Don't mention it-more than twice!' She found  the brown eyes meeting hers at this moment had exactly the same message.

'Shouldn't wonder,' their owner said carelessly.

'Well, I'd wonder.' The voice came from behind them. 'In fact I'd think I  was dreaming. We have the school dance here, Suzanne. He's been bottom  of the class so long I wonder it's not stuck to the seat of his pants.'

The scathing tone sent Toby's hands slapping down protectively on the  empty page before him. A larger hand removed them. Investigation was  brief and pungent. 'Now see here, young fella. It's time you woke  yourself up. If you can't do it here there are places that will make  you.' He turned his son's ruffled head till its nose pointed to the  books on the table. 'Get stuck in there for a start. Jennie's coming to  watch you.'

'I'm all right,' Toby began resentfully. 'I'm doing it. She needn't come. Johnny can watch me,' he added. 'I don't mind her.'

'I'd like to,' Haidee said quickly. 'I might learn something.'

'Just a minute, if you don't mind,' Rory cut in crushingly. 'You're coming out with me.'                       
       
           



       

She supposed the reason she went so quietly for her coat was that he  made the possessiveness seem so natural. People living in the same house  went on like that without thought-'When you're out you can get my fags'  or 'For heaven's sake oil that door.' Yet surely in their Glenglass  days Suzanne of the big house and Rory of the small shop had not  established that kind of relationship.

Passing the dining-room door Toby's mutinous mutter floated out to her.

'Aw, knock it off, I am getting down to it.'

He was gently corrected by Jennie. 'You know you mustn't say knock it off.'

'You don't think you're all a bit hard on him?' Haidee, who did think so, most emphatically asked Rory in an undertone.

Patently he didn't. 'He can do with it. If you've any thoughts about interfering-don't.'

'Interfering? Why should I do that?'

Answer was a cool hard look. 'Why indeed?' he murmured enigmatically:  'After all these years.' It was, she supposed, another dig at the  'woman-on-an-island' attitude Suzanne had adopted in the past.