Dark Moonless Night. Anne Mather

she had had to go on alone and make a life for herself.

      And she had succeeded admirably. She had gone to college and become a qualified teacher, obtaining for herself a good post at a large comprehensive school. She was well liked among the staff and popular with the pupils, and after her mother died two years ago she had managed to get a small flat and become independent. From time to time she had had word of Gareth. His married sister lived in Hampstead, not far from where Caroline and her mother had lived, and whenever Caroline went back to visit old friends she had heard of Gareth through them.

      Eventually, the thing that Caroline had once wanted to happen became reality. Through the headmaster at the school, she became friendly with Jeremy Brent, the headmaster of a well-established boys’ preparatory school in Kensington. He was everything she had once looked for in a husband—rich and attractive, of a good family with excellent prospects, and what was more would inherit his father’s baronetcy one day. He was instantly attracted to her and lost no time in asking her out and showing his interest was serious. Caroline should have been delighted, she should have been proud that a man like Jeremy wanted her for his wife, but something stopped her from falling in love with him. She knew that some part of her still hankered after a man who within a year of their separation had married and was still married to someone else. She used to tell herself that she was a fool, that if she wasn’t careful she’d end up like her mother, a lonely and embittered woman, but nevertheless, although she became engaged to Jeremy she delayed the inevitability of marriage.

      Naturally, Jeremy became impatient. There was absolutely no reason why they should not get married right away. As well as his service flat in town, and his apartments at the school, he owned a small house in Sevenoaks which would suit them ideally until they started a family. He offered her a cruise to the West Indies for their honeymoon, and an unlimited account at Harrods to buy her trousseau. But still Caroline hesitated.

      And then, early in the New Year, she had learned that Gareth’s wife had left him, that they were getting a divorce, and suddenly she had known that this was why she had been delaying her marriage to Jeremy.

      She had half expected that Gareth would come home, to England. She knew his parents were dead, but there was his married sister in Hampstead who hadn’t seen him for years. But Gareth didn’t come to England, and as the weeks passed Caroline had become impatient and restless. Then, when the opportunity arose to accompany Elizabeth Lacey and her children out to Tsaba, she had not hesitated. She had told Jeremy the truth—that she was very much afraid she loved someone else—and that before settling down with him she had to make sure.

      Jeremy had not seemed too surprised. He had sensed for weeks that something was troubling her, but when it came to her giving him back his ring he became obstinate. He insisted that he was convinced this was just a phase she was going through, that when she got out to Africa and met this man again she would realise how foolish she had been, that no emotion she had felt when she was still a schoolgirl could possibly survive her maturity to womanhood.

      However, Caroline could be obstinate too when she chose, and she had made him take back the ring.

      ‘Who knows?’ she had commented lightly, ‘in the six weeks I’m away, you might meet someone far more worthy of your love than I am.’

      ‘Don’t be facetious!’ Jeremy had snapped, snatching her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. ‘I won’t let you go like this. I won’t let you leave the country without the badge of my possession on your finger.’

      ‘But you don’t possess me,’ Caroline had replied, rather quietly, and Jeremy had become angry.

      ‘Perhaps I should have done,’ he had exclaimed furiously. ‘Perhaps if you were already mine, this fellow wouldn’t want you anyway. Or were you his possession first?’

      Caroline had slapped his face then. She had been unable to prevent herself and Jeremy had had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Caroline,’ he had cried frustratedly, ‘but can’t you see? I can’t bear to let you go!’

      But of course he had had to, although he had threatened that if she was not back within the six weeks she had promised, he would come out to Tsaba and fetch her back himself.

      Caroline rolled on to her back and stared unseeingly up at the darkened roof above her. From time to time, she could hear rustlings outside the bungalow, and her flesh crept at the possibilities these noises conjured up. But mostly there were just the sounds of the night—the incessant scraping of the insects, the harsh croaking of bullfrogs, and occasionally the startled cry of some wild thing caught by a predator.

      What was she doing here? she asked herself honestly. What was driving her to remain here and possibly risk further humiliation? What if Jeremy’s turned out to be the love she craved and he grew tired of waiting for her? What would she do?

      The answers were simple but stark. She was here because in spite of everything she was still attracted to a man who had shown that his feelings for her had soon been replaced by those for another. And if Jeremy got tired of waiting, if he found someone else in her absence, then she hoped he would be happy. Because she very much doubted her ability to make herself happy, let alone anyone else …

       CHAPTER THREE

      CAROLINE slept badly. She tossed and turned in the narrow bed, occasionally stubbing her toes on the unaccustomed rails at its foot, and was awakened with a start at half past six by an uproar from the children’s room. Only half awake, she sprang out of bed, searching for the quilted cotton robe she had draped over the chest the night before. The children’s room was across the passage and as she emerged from her room she could hear Miranda screaming and David whooping exuberantly.

      Wondering how on earth Charles and Elizabeth could sleep through such a din, she thrust open the children’s door. Miranda was a quivering heap in one corner of the room, while her brother was bouncing excitedly up and down on his bed.

      ‘What on earth is going on here?’ Caroline demanded.

      But even as she spoke she saw what it was that had reduced Miranda to a frightened jelly. Standing squarely on the floor between her and the comparative safety of her bed was a lizard, perhaps six inches in length, with grotesquely revolving eyes.

      Miranda had stopped screaming at Caroline’s entrance and pointed with trembling fingers towards the small reptile. ‘It—it’s a dragon!’ she announced, her voice trembling. ‘A baby dragon. And—and soon its mummy is going to come and take it away!’

      Caroline gave David an impatient glance. ‘Oh, really?’ she commented. ‘I suppose your brother told you that.’

      Miranda started to nod, but David broke in, his expression indignant. ‘No, I did not,’ he denied. ‘I only said that—

      well, perhaps it might be a dragon …’

      ‘But you knew it was not,’ stated Caroline, turning to him. ‘Didn’t you?’

      David hunched his shoulders. ‘How should I know what it is?’

      Caroline regarded the terrified creature with a certain amount of distaste. ‘Well, Miranda, it’s not a dragon. Nor is it a baby anything. It’s a lizard, that’s all. A harmless, frightened lizard, who can’t understand what all this fuss is about. Can you see the way its little body is throbbing? That’s because it’s scared—more scared of you than you should be of it.’

      Miranda scrambled slowly to her feet, her eyes glued to the creature as she did so. Then she looked across at Caroline. ‘But—but what’s it doing in here? How—how did it get in?’

      David looked as though he was about to make some startling explanation, but then thought better of it when he met Caroline’s cautioning stare. Caroline herself was trying desperately to think of some satisfactory explanation, but everything that occurred to her left the way open for Miranda to ask whether it might happen again. At last she decided