Anne Mather - Silver Fruit Upon Silver Trees

Sophie nodded slowly. “I – I’m willing,” she murmured, looking down at her hands clasped in his.

“Good! Good!” Brandt’s expression softened again. “You’ve no idea how happy you’ve made me. I’ve so looked forward to your coming here, to meeting you. We’re your family now, this is where you belong. Oh, I know you’ve got your career, but surely the family should come first, in spite of everything!”

Sophie stared at him. She didn’t quite know how to answer him. But to her relief, she didn’t have to.

“Relax!” he exclaimed. “Don’t look so nervous! We won’t bite, I promise you. On the contrary, it will be delightful to have a young woman about the place again.”

Sophie glanced behind her. All the while his father had been speaking Edge had been standing silently near the door, watching them, a lazy smile playing about his lips. But now he stepped forward and said: “Joseph said practically the same thing. If I’d know you were both so eager for feminine company ...”

His voice trailed away insinuatively and Brandt looked impatiently at his son. “Don’t be sarcastic, Edge. If this is any example of the welcome you’ve given your niece, I’m not surprised she looks nervous!”

Edge looked speculatively at Sophie. “Well, perhaps we’re not what she expected either.”

“What do you mean?” Brandt glared at him.

Edge shrugged. “Oh, nothing.” He looked away from Sophie and drew his cigar case out of his pocket. “I think I’ll go and change for dinner. I feel rather – hot and uncomfortable.” His eyes flickered over Sophie again. “Perhaps – my niece would like to shower and change, too.”

Brandt released Sophie’s hands apologetically and went to pull a long velvet cord hanging near a screened fireplace. “Of course, of course,” he exclaimed. “In the excitement of meeting you, my dear, I’m forgetting common courtesy. Of course, you must be tired and hungry. I’ll have Violet show you to your room and we’ll dine in – say –” he glanced at his wrist watch, “– say – thirty minutes? Do you think that will be long enough for you to get ready?”

“Of – of course.” Sophie cupped her hands together. “I – I’d just like to say I’m – I’m very happy to be here.”

Edge, a cigar between his teeth, walked to the door. “Oh, well said,” he remarked mockingly, and Sophie’s hands clenched into fists.

“Ignore your uncle,” advised Brandt, giving his son a reproving glance. “Edge has a very cynical mind.”

Edge swung open the door and leant against the jamb for a moment. “You always said we had a lot in common, Brandt,” he remarked lazily, and the door closed behind him with a definite click.

After he had gone the room seemed suddenly empty. Sophie looked awkwardly at Eve’s grandfather. “You – you have a beautiful house,” she murmured. “I – I’m longing to see it in daylight.”

“Indeed, yes.” Brandt seemed to relax and came towards her again smiling down into her eyes. “I’m sure you’re going to be happy here, Eve. If you’re not, it won’t be through the fault of not trying on my part. I intend to make your stay so enjoyable that you won’t want to leave us again. We have so much here to interest you.” He spread and encompassing hand. “Swimming; sailing; skin-diving, if you’re adventurous enough. Edge and Piers would teach you. They spend hours out in the boat. Then, of course, the island itself is a veritable paradise for nature-lovers. We have so many different species of birds. We must take you to the Caroni bird sanctuary to see the scarlet ibis. I don’t suppose you’ve seen it in its natural habitat.” He sighed. “You see, my dear, already I’m anticipating the weeks ahead with a great deal of satisfaction.”

Sophie was saved the need of responding to this small speech by a knock at the door. At Brandt’s bidding a black-skinned servant appeared, and he smiled.

“Ah, Violet,” he said, putting an arm round Sophie. “Eve, my dear, allow me to introduce you to our treasure, Violet.” The black woman chuckled and he went on: “She smoothes all our lives without us really appreciating it, don’t you, Violet?”

“If you say so, Mr. Brandt.” Violet’s dark luminous eyes shifted to the girl at his side. “How do you do, Miss Eve. I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Hello, Violet.” Sophie managed a smile.

“Will you show Miss Eve to her room, Violet?” added Brandt, propelling Sophie forward. “Then we’ll have dinner in half an hour.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Brandt.” Violet stepped back into the corridor behind her. “Will you follow me, miss?”

After receiving another encouraging smile from Eve’s grandfather, Sophie accompanied Violet back along the passage to the hall. They crossed to the wrought iron staircase and had just begun to climb when a young man came in through the mesh door and saw them. He was tall and very lean, his bony body accentuated by close-fitting hipster jeans and a collarless sweat shirt. When he saw them he looked up in surprise, his gaze moving over Sophie as Edge’s had done. Sophie guessed that this must be Piers, but he was not as dark as his father and his hair was longer. However, he had lazily attractive features, less aggressively masculine than his father’s.

“Well, well,” he commented, moving to the foot of the stairs. “You must be Eve, am I right?”

Sophie saw that Violet had halted ahead of her and was obviously waiting for her to respond to Piers’ informal introduction. She nodded. “Yes, I’m – Eve. And you, of course, are Piers.”

“I do have that dubious distinction.” Piers laughed. “Aren’t you coming down to say hello to your long-lost cousin?”

Violet leaned over the balustrade. “Mr. Brandt said dinner was to be served in half an hour, Mr. Piers. Miss Eve needs time to wash and tidy herself before then.”

Piers made a face. “Family dinner,” he mocked. Then: “And have you met our family , Eve?”

Sophie hesitated. “All except Great-aunt Rosalind, I believe.”

“Rosa?” Piers’ lips twitched. “Ah, well, that’s a treat in store.”

“Mr. Piers!” Violet sounded reproving.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t speak disrespectfully of my elders, but really ... Don’t take too much notice of what she says, will you, Eve?”

Sophie was saved from replying by Violet’s expressive snort and when the servant continued on up the winding staircase, Sophie followed her without looking back.

But a smile was touching her lips, too. She liked Piers. He was nice and – uncomplicated. She thought she could understand him. But she’d never understand his father; never in a million years ...

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