Storm In A Rain Barrel. Anne Mather

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ frowned. ‘Do you know who it is?’

      Domine sighed and grimaced. ‘Heavens, no.’

      ‘Then ask her.’

      Domine bit her lip and removed her hand. ‘Who—who is calling, please?’ she asked uncomfortably.

      There was a stifled exclamation, and then the woman said: ‘You can tell him it’s Yvonne,’ she said, rather angrily. ‘Is he there? Won’t he speak to me?’

      ‘No!’ Domine was horrified and replaced her hand over the mouthpiece again. ‘She—she thinks Mr. Mannering is here and I’m preventing her from speaking to him,’ she exclaimed.

      Graham grinned. ‘It must be Yvonne Park,’ he said, knowledgeably, and Domine stared at him in surprise.

      ‘Yes, she said her name was Yvonne,’ she whispered.

      ‘Then give it to me.’ Graham held out his hand and Domine thankfully handed him the receiver, walking across the room to the window and trying not to take any interest in the remainder of the conversation. But it was difficult when she had already heard part of the conversation and wanted to know the rest.

      Graham handled the situation beautifully, she had to admit, but from his replies it was obvious that this woman did not believe that James Mannering was not in the apartment. However, Graham appeared at last to have convinced her, and affirmed that he would give Mr. Mannering her message as soon as he returned. As he replaced the receiver, he glanced across at Domine ruefully and said:

      ‘That was unfortunate. However, Mr. James won’t be here later in the day if she takes it into her head to come to find him.’

      ‘Who—who is she?’ asked Domine, flushing.

      Graham heaved a sigh. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Park Textiles?’

      ‘Park Textiles? You mean the manufacturers?’

      ‘Yes. Yvonne is the daughter of Alexander Park, the chairman of the combine.’

      ‘I see.’ Domine sounded awed. ‘Is—is she a friend of Mr. Mannering’s?’

      Graham gave a wry smile. ‘You might say that. At any rate she’d like to be.’

      ‘You mean Mr. Mannering isn’t interested?’

      Graham chuckled. ‘His interest waned about six weeks ago,’ he replied, walking towards the kitchen. Then he looked back at her almost compassionately. ‘There are a lot of things you have yet to learn, Domine.’

      Domine didn’t object to his use of her Christian name. Instead, she sighed and dropped down into a low chair, cupping her chin on her hands. ‘I expect Mr. Mannering has a lot of—well, women friends,’ she murmured wistfully.

      ‘Men and women aren’t friends—they’re antagonists!’ remarked a lazy voice behind her, and she swung round to find that James Mannering had entered the apartment silently, and was standing leaning against the door jamb surveying her mockingly.

      Graham chuckled, and withdrew, leaving Domine feeling at quite a disadvantage. She got awkwardly to her feet as he came into the room, and said hastily: ‘There—there’s been a call for you. From a woman called Yvonne Park.’

      ‘Has there indeed?’ Mannering flung himself into an easy chair and drew out his cigar case. ‘Did you sleep well?’

      ‘Did you hear what I said?’ asked Domine, frowning.

      ‘Yes, I heard,’ he replied smoothly. ‘Thank you for the message.’

      ‘Sometimes,’ she said, rather crossly, ‘you make me feel very childish! You needn’t act as though I wasn’t aware of the facts of life. Graham told me that you and this woman used to be—well, friends!’

      ‘Is that what he said?’ Mannering got to his feet. ‘How do you get along with Graham?’ He poured himself a glass of whisky at the cocktail cabinet and went on: ‘Don’t imagine I’m a hardened drinker, will you?’ he indicated the glass in his hand. ‘It’s just I’ve had rather an infuriating morning, and I’m not feeling exactly polite at the moment.’

      Domine compressed her lips and turned away, sighing rather impatiently. He seemed determined to treat her as an infant.

      Suddenly he said, rather surprisingly: ‘I think we’ll have to take you in hand, Domine.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ she asked defensively. ‘If I’m not to discuss your affairs with Graham, then all right. You needn’t make a big thing about it.’

      He smiled. ‘What an aggressive little thing you are, aren’t you? Or perhaps little is the wrong adjective.’ He surveyed her rather mockingly. ‘At any rate, I wasn’t referring to my affairs—I was referring to your appearance.’

      ‘My appearance?’ she echoed, her cheeks colouring. ‘What’s wrong with my appearance?’

      ‘There’s nothing actually wrong with it,’ he replied consideringly, ‘however, I don’t find a navy blue pinafore dress and a white blouse particularly inspiring. Nowadays there are plenty of decent, attractive clothes to choose from, clothes with style and colour, that would do something for a girl like yourself.’

      Domine put a hand on her plait awkwardly. ‘Your father—Great-Uncle Henry, that is, didn’t approve of ultra-modern clothes.’

      ‘Nor do I!’ he exclaimed impatiently. ‘I’m not suggesting you should deck yourself out like some out-of-date hippie; nevertheless you do require something a little more decorative than school uniform to wear.’

      ‘I have other clothes,’ she retorted, somewhat shortly.

      ‘Have you? Then by all means find something different and wear it.’ He seemed to grow bored with the topic of conversation, for he poured himself a second drink and walking across the room, seated himself by the window with the pile of newspapers.

      Domine compressed her lips, regarded the back of his head for several minutes, then turned and went into her bedroom, finding to her surprise that Graham must have entered through her bathroom, and her bed was made and the room was tidy again.

      She opened her large suitcase and studied the contents without much enthusiasm. She hadn’t the faintest idea what she could wear, and although, as she had said, she had other clothes, they were all rather subdued garments, in dark colours, and without a great deal of style. Eventually she chose a dark green velvet dress, with a close-fitting bodice and a pleated skirt, the sleeves of which were long and buttoned at the cuff. The colour did not complement the olive colour of her skin, and without make-up she looked pale and uninteresting. She tugged the comb through her fringe and stared at herself gloomily. It was no good. She was not good-looking, and no amount of wishing would make her so.

      When she emerged into the lounge, it was to find Graham there, talking to James Mannering, and as she closed the door, he said that lunch was ready. James Mannering stared at her with those piercing blue eyes, and then with an imperceptible shrug he allowed her to precede him into the dining-room.

      During the meal he did not speak, and she could only assume СКАЧАТЬ