Miriam Macgregor - A Most Determined Bachelor

‘No—I’m afraid he’s out for a short time.’

The voice said, ‘Is that you, Kate? It doesn’t sound like you.’

‘It’s not Miss Coster. It’s Judy Arledge speaking.’

‘Judy Arledge?’ The caller’s voice sharpened. ‘May I ask who you are and what you’re doing in Ryan’s house while he’s absent from it? I don’t recall him ever mentioning a Judy Arledge.’

‘I’ve come to stay with him for the rest of the school holidays,’ Judy explained rather inadequately, while feeling there was no need to go into details for this unknown person.

‘The rest of the school holidays—but there’s over a week to go.’ The words came faintly, yet held a hint of agitation. ‘Are you a school teacher? Am I right in assuming you’re Miss Arledge?’

‘Yes, you’re quite right. May I ask who’s speaking so that I can tell him you rang?’

‘Indeed you may.’ The caller’s tone sharpened again. ‘It’s Cynthia Birch speaking. Ryan and I are very close friends—and I can hardly believe he has a...a single woman staying in the house with him. He’s always been adamant in his refusal to do so—so how did you manage it, Miss Arledge?’

Something in her tone jarred upon Judy. Or was it the fact that Cynthia Birch had claimed to be very close to Ryan? ‘I’m sure Ryan will fill you in with any details you wish to know—’ she began.

Cynthia’s voice rang with determination. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to know a few of them now. Where have you come from?’

Judy answered politely, ‘From Christchurch.’ And before more questions could come she added quickly, ‘I’ll tell Ryan you rang. Goodbye.’ She replaced the receiver.

She hadn’t actually hung up on Cynthia, but it had been near enough to make her feel guilty. After all, why should she care if this woman and Ryan were close? It shouldn’t concern someone like herself...someone who was finished with men...and in an effort to convince herself she almost muttered the last thought aloud.

The question was still niggling at her mind when Ryan returned. She was in the living room when he walked in the back door, and for several long moments they just stood and looked at each other through the archway. The expression on his face was inscrutable, and as slow strides began to take him towards her she became conscious of a strange fluttering in her breast.

To control her nerves she drew in a deep breath, then spoke calmly. ‘There was a phone call while you were out.’

He stopped in his tracks to stand very still. ‘Did you get a name?’

‘Yes—she said to tell you that Cynthia Birch rang.’ Judy swallowed, but said nothing further, while watching for a reaction of some sort. How would he cope with both Cynthia and Verna—when she arrived? As for herself—it seemed clear that she wouldn’t stand a chance.

A short time later they were in the Range Rover, which sped along a country highway where stands of evergreen trees gave shelter from winter southerlies, and where the bare wood of golden willows made splashes of orangeyellow beside streams. Away to the west the high Kaweka Mountains were thickly coated with snow, their dazzling whiteness giving evidence of winter.

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