Вайолет Уинспир - Dragon Bay

‘I expect he did,’ Kara said drily, and suggested that they do a jigsaw puzzle.

Whenever the child broached the subject of her parents, Kara found a way to divert her. This morning she suggested that Rue try her legs out of bed and if she felt strong enough they would go downstairs and sit in the Folly.

The Folly was attached to the veranda, and it would do Rue good to sit in the sunshine for a couple of hours.

‘I feel a bit wobbly,’ she admitted.

‘Sam can carry you downstairs.’ Kara helped her to dress, and was glad that the debris from the broken chandelier had been carted away and the ceiling re-plastered. The workmen had found a crack in the ceiling, and because of the closeness of the house to the sea Lucan had suggested to Pryde that an expert on land erosion be called in to examine the cliffs on which the house was built.

‘Those cliffs hold firm as iron in the seabed,’ Pryde had scoffed. ‘This house will stand another hundred years or more.’

‘How can you be so certain of that?’ Lucan had demanded with impatience. ‘We all know that the sea is closing in, and the foundations of this house must receive a hammering each time the seas are high. I am darned certain that storm the other night had something to do with that chandelier breaking loose.’

‘Old houses will creak and crack.’ Pryde had eyed his pacing brother with sardonic eyes. ‘Very well, call in an expert if it will put your mind at rest.’

Lucan was very restless these days — turning up at odd hours, looking in on Rue, then riding off again with Jet bounding beside him and baying down the cocoa valley.

The atmosphere was tense as if a storm brewed, and it was as much of a relief to Kara to get out of the house as it was a change for Rue. Walking behind Sam and the child, her arms laden with books, puzzles, and the red-plaited doll, Kara watched anxiously to see if Rue glanced up at the ceiling where the chandelier had hung. But no, she went on chatting to Sam and seemed quite unaware that here in the hall, ten days ago, she had been knocked out by flying plaster and had lain still and bleeding in Lucan’s arms.

There was a smouldering murmur of bees as they entered the Folly, whose outside walls were a mass of clambering coral flowers. Inside it was cool and there were chairs set round the small fountain, a figure of Pan blowing water through the pipes he held.

Kara felt a lifting of her spirits and knew that something in the house had been weighing them down.

‘Catch!’ Rue tossed her ball to Kara, and then ran to the edge of the fountain as a dragonfly flew in and settled on the figure of Pan.

‘Her wings are like green tissue and she quivers all over,’ the child whispered. ‘Kara, isn’t the world full of lovely things?’

‘Yes,’ Kara said softly, and watched the sun slant in on the child’s russet hair and stroke her young cheek.

‘Kara,’ Rue swung round from the fountain rim and her eyes were green as the wings of the dragonfly, ‘don’t you think that the Great House is like a palace? An enchanted palace, with a dragon and a prince and all of us under a spell.’

‘What sort of a spell?’ Kara asked indulgently.

‘I am not sure,’ Rue said thoughtfully. ‘Do you know the story of the princess and the frog? He was a nobleman who had been enchanted and he knew that if the princess fell in love with him, he would change and be handsome again.’

‘And did the princess fall in love with him?’ Kara asked.

‘I s’pose so.’ Rue bent and tickled a darting fish. ‘Fairy tales always end happily, but I bet it’s different in real life. I mean, can you imagine a girl falling in love with a dragon?’

‘A frog,’ Kara corrected.

‘Well, a frog is a little dragon,’ Rue pointed out. ‘Didn’t you know that?’

‘I do now.’ Kara smiled and lay back in her lounger and hummed a few bars of a Greek song she was fond of.

‘I like that,’ Rue said eagerly.

‘If I had a guitar I could play it to you.’

‘Sing it, Kara.’

‘Oh, I have not sung a Greek song in such a long time—’

‘Please!’ Rue ran to her and knelt on the foot of the lounger. She caught at Kara’s left hand and swung it so the pearl of Lucan’s ring gleamed with a myriad colours. ‘Sing me the song, Kara. After all, I have been sick and you have to pamper me.’

‘The Irish,’ Kara murmured, ‘have the charm of angels and devils — very well, you will have to clap, like this, because it is a song that echoes the rhythm of the olives as they drop into the big baskets of the olive pickers.’

They were lost in the fun of their concert when a shadow fell suddenly across the doorway of the Folly. It lingered for several minutes, while the young voices floated out into the sunlight, then the shadow withdrew and there was no sound of footsteps as it moved silently away.

‘Kara, you must teach me to speak Greek,’ Rue said excitedly.

‘That would take a long time, poppet.’ Kara kissed the small hand she held and touched her forehead to it. ‘That is the Greek way of saying "bless you".’

‘Kara,’ Rue gazed at her with eyes that were suddenly alarmed, ‘you will be here a long time — won’t you?’

‘Of course.’ Kara could not bear that look in the child ’s eyes. ‘Look, when Sam brings our ice cream we will have some fun with him and you will thank him in Greek. This is how you say it—’

She held the slight figure in the circle of her arm, bird-boned and warm as a kitten, and tried to recapture her mood of gaiety. But it was as though a shadow had passed over the sun, and she heard a wind whisper through the fields of cane, and the chain of bells and coral hanging in the doorway of the Folly gave a tinkle as though something passed by.

She glanced up and watched the bells tinkling and swaying.

When Sam arrived, carrying goblets of avocado ice cream on a tray, Kara asked him if the seas were high.

‘Them waves got a wind on their backs a-driving them, ma’am,’ he said. ‘That ole dragon is growling—’

There he broke off and watched with a grin as Rue tucked into her ice cream. He ambled away, but his words stayed with Kara.

That old dragon is growling.

A FEW nights later Kara awoke suddenly and heard the neighing of a horse quite close to the house. Its hooves clattered on the cobbles below, and she sat up, listening. She knew that Lucan sometimes went out moon riding, but this was the middle of the night.

She slipped out of bed and the moonlight framed her as she stood at the window trying to catch a glimpse of the horse and rider. But from the window of Lucan’s dressing room, which she was now using while he slept elsewhere, it was difficult to see anyone down in the courtyard. She hesitated, then slipped into her robe and slippers and made her way out to the gallery, where the moonlight streamed through the windows at either end.

Silently as a ghost, she hurried to the window that overlooked the courtyard. She heard again the rattle of harness and the stamp of hooves, and then her breath caught in her throat as she saw the big horse standing riderless, tossing its black mane and glistening in the moonlight as though painted with gold.

A beautiful, satanic-looking beast, glancing wickedly sideways as a figure clambered into the saddle and urged him through the gateway on to the road.

Kara’s heart was pounding, for the rider was big, broad-shouldered, and tilted well down over his face was a field hat with a wide brim — a hat such as the one Lucan often wore!

The sound of the galloping hooves died away into the night, and Kara stood shivering on the gallery. Had she just seen Lucan on a golden horse with a black mane, or was she walking in her sleep and having a nightmare?