Dear Deceiver(29)

When Haidee declined he looked unconvinced. 'One of these days he'll get  what he's asking for. And more power to the man who gives it to him. I  mean that. I'd like to push his teeth in.'

Haidee could not help thinking that the desire had not been all that  evident on Saturday night. She could still see Paul's head as Rory had  slammed the car door. It had popped back like a tortoise going into its  shell.

'Daddy doesn't like that man,' Toby observed unnecessarily as they drove on.                       
       
           



       

'You shouldn't say that, Toby. Suzanne does,' Jennie countered also unnecessarily.

'Do you remember those men I caught with the hares?' was the next gambit  from the back seat. 'He was talking to one of them just now.'

'You caught? I like that!' Jennie expostulated. 'I suppose Rory had nothing to do with it, or Sergeant Murphy!'

They squabbled not very seriously for the rest of the drive. But Haidee  was worried. If Rory knew that Paul had not left Glenglass he would  never believe that she was not still plotting to go with him,  Fortunately neither Jennie nor Toby mentioned the meeting.

The evening improved. A breeze scattered the clouds and the moon shone. Rory had gone out and Toby was restless.

'I was thinking,' he said at last. 'This would be a super night to go  and look for that fox I told you about, the one that's living with the  badgers.'

Haidee hesitated. She was sure Rory's answer would be to stick his son's  nose back in his books, but she had an odd feeling that this was Toby's  way of making up to her for the unhappy atmosphere since the fire. He  would be disappointed if she refused.



'All right, if we're not too long,' she qualified.

The woods, however, at least temporarily, had lost their magic. And  Toby's insistence on including Punch in the party doomed the expedition  from the start. The puppy yapped and sat down whining when he wanted to  be carried. A badger or a fox would have had to be raving mad to show  itself.

'Pity he's kicking up that row,' Toby conceded at last. 'Everything  should be going out hunting after the rain. An owl, maybe.' He pointed  to one of the trees. 'There was a nest up there last March. We came out  one night and sat up in another tree and the cock came along with a  mouse in his beak. The nest's still there. I'll show you.'

He took a running jump, hooked himself on to one of the lower branches  and wriggled to a, standing position. 'Come and see. It's still here.'

'I'll take your word for it,' Haidee laughed.

'Oh, come on, be a sport. You're not that old,' he yelled disarmingly.  She was hesitating when he spoke again. 'You've changed, haven't you?'

'What do you mean?' In its own small way it was a shock. Toby was the one person with whom she had felt perfectly safe.

'I don't know. Jennie says people think that. Perhaps it's because you  don't climb trees any more. You used to, didn't you? He said once you  were the best he ever knew for a girl.' Despite its hotch-potch of  grammar the sentence hit home.

'The best he ever knew for a girl.' Ridiculously, the biggest ache that  the past two days had brought had been that stark knowledge that  Suzanne, bad as she was, had been loved and Haidee, good as she'd tried  to be, was detested.

'Okay. Who says I've changed?' she said provocatively, and ran for the branch.

It was not too difficult. Luckily she was wearing trousers and the past  four weeks had limbered her up a bit. Toby's helping hand was not  necessary. In next to no time she was beside him standing on the branch.  The nest was now within sight, almost within touch if she'd wanted to.  Gallantly, Toby ducked to give her the better view. And then it  happened, out of nowhere. She heard nothing, she saw nothing, till a  flying shape dashed into her face.

Shock made her reel, but some strength she had not dreamed she possessed  kept her clinging to the branch. Pain followed scaringly as something  scored her cheek. It had come like a bat out of hell; but it wasn't a  bat. This thing had talons. It could only be the owl.

Toby did not lose his head. He shouted and she guessed he was trying to  drive it away. He shouldn't. He might get attacked himself. She thought  this, but couldn't say it. All she could do was hold on and keep her  eyes closed.

'I think it's gone,' Toby said shakily. 'We'd better get down before it comes back.'

It was as well he was there. Left alone she might never have summoned  the courage to scramble down, but he had had fright enough, she couldn't  add to it. For all that, even on terra firma, she couldn't stop  shivering.                       
       
           



       

Toby's: 'Oh, gosh! Your face is all blood,' didn't help.

'It was that rotten old owl,' he went on. 'I didn't think it would go for us. There are no owlets now.'

She tried to answer, but her teeth were going like castanets.

'Johnny, are you all right?' he asked, his voice high with fear. It roused her.

'Yes. Get Punch.'

Another complication. The pup was not visible. Toby had just begun  searching the undergrowth when they heard its excited squeals nearby.

'Quiet. Quiet!' a familiar voice was bidding it ill-humouredly.

To Haidee it was the one sound that could drive away fear of the owl.  Other fears were greater. His finding her like this, bloodied and  shocked, having made yet another fool of herself. 'Toby, I'm going on,'  she said in a panicky tone.

It was too late. Rory's tetchy voice came nearer. 'Are you there, Toby?  Then take this animal out of here. I've told you he's too young...'

Carrying Punch, who was darting his tongue excitedly at the unresponsive  chin above him, the forester stepped into the clearing and stopped. His  eyes lit on Haidee's face and changed. It was frightening to see how  they changed. It made her think she must be even worse than she'd  feared.

'An owl?' For the moment she couldn't believe it was Rory's voice. All  the fire seemed to have flown from it. Extraordinarily, it was the last  straw. As she nodded she felt her knees buckle. Punch was dropped  unceremoniously and Rory strode forward. 'Put your arms round my neck.'

'No, please. I'm all right,' she gasped.

'Don't argue. Put your arms round my neck.'

She found a strange weak gratitude in obeying. Her fingers linked on the  bulk of fawn waterproof, tweed jacket and thick sweater. Rugged  clothes, sometimes untidy clothes. Always no-nonsense clothes, like the  man who wore them.

Silly thoughts, but then she felt silly, dazed, drowsy, not herself.

No time was wasted. Rory barked out an order and Toby scuttled on ahead  to phone the doctor. 'And don't think you've heard the last of this,'  his father's voice followed him grimly.

Haidee, in fact, had been lucky. Only two of the wounds required  stitching and her eyes were unscathed. For all that the doctor's  ministrations were painful. 'Bring her back tomorrow,' he said to Rory.  'She may need hospital treatment.'

It was still a bit like floating. She was involved, but too tired and  muzzy to speak. 'All right, don't try to talk. You've had a shock,' Rory  said with surprising intuition as they drove back from the surgery.

'My own fault,' she murmured.

'Toby's. You weren't to know. The number of times I've warned him.  Tawnies will attack you, other owls don't. I knew a man once who lost an  eye.'

But she should have known, Haidee thought heavily. She was Suzanne. Suzanne would have understood the danger.

The sedative which the doctor had given her added to natural weariness.  As Rory helped her into the hall, she did not at first grasp what he had  said to Jennie who was standing staring at the foot of the stairs.

'If Suzanne wants,' Jennie returned unenthusiastically.

'Jen will sleep with you tonight in case you need anything,' Rory explained.

You'd have to be under knock-out sedation not to realize that assent was  being given under protest. Haidee had noticed Jennie's eyes as Rory had  guided her up the stairs. It was part of the dream that he should be so  different. But it was no dream that Jennie did not like it.

Hastily and very firmly Haidee declined her company.

When first she laid her head on the pillow it started going round. The  whole world in fact seemed like sinking sands. She'd wanted to do so  much and she'd done-nothing. Rory would look back on her with contempt  and who could blame him? 'The best there was for a girl' would never be  said about her.

Suddenly the quicksands started to move and out of the darkness great  wings flapped in her face. She tried to cover her eyes and found herself  paralysed. She was there trapped, unable to stir. Caught. Finished. Ah!  A-ah!                       
       
           



       

Everything round her was shifting, screaming dark. Had she died? Had she been torn to pieces?