Part 14 (1/2)

”Are you tired?”

Barbara made a moue with her lips. ”A little bored, perhaps.”

”With me?” Patrick could have bitten off his tongue the minute the words left his lips. So long he had used his charm to fascinate people and it was second nature to react in like manner when something even vaguely questioning his authority was posed. Barbara reacted in the expected manner. She wound her arm closer about his neck and murmured: ”Darling, I'd never get bored with you.” Patrick felt stifled and disagreeable. This was not the way things should be. He wished desperately that the whole affair could wind up right then. He had had enough. After tonight he must find some reason to get away. His commitments might allow him a week, or ten days, out of London. He could go to Killaney. It was wonderful there at this time of year. There would be fis.h.i.+ng and shooting and perhaps some hunting.

Only in Ireland would he find the peace and tranquility he needed to escape from the turmoil of his own thoughts. He already had the germ of a new play circling around in his head.

It would give him an opportunity to get his thoughts down on paper. Away from Barbara, and Samantha, he would be able to see things in perspective again The music ended and he extricated himself from Bar barn's clinging arms just as Giles came striding towards them, a grim look on his face. He gave Barbara a strange glance and then said: ”Would you excuse us for a moment. Miss Harriet? I want to speak to Pat alone.”

Barbara shrugged and turned away, and Giles drew Patrick to one side.

Patrick frowned. ”What's wrong, Giles? Is it the children?”

Giles shook his head agitatedly. ”No, no, Pat, nothing like that. Look here, there's been a telephone message from London.

It was someone called Emily. I believe she works for Miss Harriet's mother.”

”That's right I a maid. Go on.”

”Well, apparently Lady Davenport had a heart attack this evening...”

”What!”

”I'm afraid so. This.. er ... Emily thought it would be best if you broke the news to Miss Harriet.”

”Then she's dead?”

”No. At least, I spoke to the doctor and he seemed to think she would be very lucky to last the flight.”

”Oh, G.o.d!” Patrick ran a hand over his hair, and then hunched his shoulders. ”So I guess we get back there as soon as we can, right?”

”Right. The doctor said she was asking for Samantha. That would be Miss Harriet's daughter, wouldn't it?”

”Yes. Samantha.” Patrick looked grimly straight in front of him. Then he seemed to pull himself together. ”Look, I'll go tell Barbara and then after we've gone you can explain to the rest of the party. Oh, and I'll tell Sam antha too. She'l come with us, naturally. Tell Drew he'd better stay here tonight. I shouldn't think he'l want to come back with us anyway as things are.”

”No, no. I'll speak to Drew. And I'll also explain to Gina.

You just make yourselves scarce as soon as you can. Good luck, Pat.”

”Thanks.” Patrick nodded at his brother-in-law.

”And drive carefully.”

”I will.”

Patrick turned to look for Barbara. She was standing by the record player flicking over the records idly and he wondered momentarily how she would take the news he had to break to her. He had thought earlier on he had prob lems, but this created millions of complications whether he liked it or not. Just think, he pondered wryly, he had thought a trip to Ireland was the panacea for all his ills. How wrong he had been!

And Samantha. What about Samantha now? After all, she had been destined to live with her grandmother. They were to have left for Daven in the morning. What would happen to her now?

His stomach contracted. She had become so important to him. The most important thing in his life, and she didn't even know.

He walked slowly over to Barbara and hearing his ap proach, she swung round.

”Well, well,” she said. ”Conference over already? Why so gloomy? What was it all about? I must admit I thought Giles looked rather green about the gills.”

Patrick led her over to one of the benches beside the now empty buffet tables. ”Honey, I have something to tell you, so sit down. I want to be quick and get it over with.”

Barbara's eyes danced. ”Something to tell me? Why, Pat, how exciting!”

Patrick's eyes narrowed, but when she was seated he raised one foot on to the bench and leaned over her. She watched him avidly, her eyes sparkling like stars. She was sure it was something important he had to say and she was praying it was what she wanted to hear.

When the words came she was astounded as well as horrified and the genuine ageing she experienced showed in her face for a moment She felt like a person who has been standing on two legs and has suddenly had them both swept from under her. She was glad she was sitting down. She was sure she would have collapsed. The disappointment and shock had been too great together.

”Is she dead, then?” she asked dully.

”No. But I understand the doctor thinks she may not last till morning.”

”Oh, no!” Barbara's face crumpled. ”Oh, Patrick, why did this have to happen?” And then she burst into tears, sobbing loudly.

Patrick turned away. He found himself wondering whether the tears were gauged to extract some kind of sympathy from him, a kind he could not give. If she expected him to take her in his arms, he could not do it. He wanted to comfort her, but as a friend, and Barbara would never accept him as a friend.

At last he turned round and said: ”We'll have to go.

Samantha has to be told, and we ought to get back to town as quickly as possible.”

Barbara stared at him. It was a strange look, and he felt as though his emotions were blatant for all to see. She rose to her feet and slid a hand through his arm.

”What would I do without you?” she asked softly. ”My right-hand man!”

”I guess I'm not much good with crying women,” he replied quietly. ”I really am terribly sorry.”

”I know.” Barbara began to cry again, softly this time. ”But if she should die, what will I do? I'll be completely alone. I can't live alone.”

”But you don't live with your mother,” pointed out Pat rick bluntly.

”No. But she's always there if I need her.”

How selfish can you get? thought Patrick disgustedly. Did Barbara ever think of anyone but herself ?

”There's Samantha,” he went on, ”She's alone too.”

Barbara looked speculatively at him. ”Samantha is an independent sort of person, like her father. She doesn't need me.”

”Doesn't she?” Patrick was enigmatic. ”She needs someone.”

Barbara half closed her eyes. ”Do you have any sug- gestions?”

Patrick managed a tight smile. ”Why should I have? Look, anyway, she's over there. We'd better let her know.”

They walked across the sand to where the group of teenagers were dancing. Samantha, ever conscious of Pat rick, turned to face them and Patrick felt painfully aware of his own feelings again. She was so tall and slim and lovely standing there, and the look in . her eyes, a kind of hurt agony, tore him to pieces. In that moment he knew he loved her.