Summer Of The Raven. Sara Craven

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Название Summer Of The Raven
Автор произведения Sara Craven
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Modern
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474055796



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of all herself. He was very adult, and very male with that tanned skin and those pale mocking eyes, and he had looked her over and seen what there was to see, and he had called her a child.

      ‘Perhaps that’s what I am.’ She squinted sightlessly through the darkness towards the window where a paler light was beginning to be perceptible through the thin curtains. ‘A case of arrested development, small breasts, chewed nails and all.’ The thought made her smile, but it did not lift her heart, and when she fell asleep she dreamed the small unpleasant dreams that cannot be recalled to mind the next day, yet hang about like an incipient headache.

      The next day was Saturday, so there were no lectures, but she had to go to the library to exchange an armful of books, and there was the weekend shopping to be done. She breakfasted quickly on toast and coffee and looked round Antonia’s door to see if she wanted anything before she departed, but Antonia was still sleeping like the dead.

      Rowen bought vegetables and fruit from a street stall at the corner on her way home from the library and agreed with the vendor that winter really did seem to be over at last, wriggling her shoulders in the pale warmth of the sunlight.

      She felt almost cheerful as she walked in at the front door and came face to face with Fawcett, their landlord. He was making his weekly rent round, and she said smilingly, ‘Good morning. Did Mrs Winslow hear you knock? If not, I can …’

      ‘I have the rent,’ he said rather dourly. ‘I’m very sorry to hear that you’re leaving us. You’ve been good quiet tenants. I could hardly have wished for better.’

      Rowan stared at him. She said at last, ‘I don’t quite follow—are you giving us notice?’

      He looked quite shocked. ‘On the contrary, Miss Winslow. Your stepmother told me herself that you would be leaving at the end of the month.’

      ‘Oh, no, there must be some mistake.’ Rowan drew a long breath. She said urgently. ‘Please, Mr Fawcett, don’t advertise the flat yet. My—my stepmother hasn’t been well lately and …’

      ‘She certainly didn’t look very well.’ His lined face was suddenly austere with disapproval. ‘But I hardly feel there’s any mistake. Mrs Winslow handed me her notice in writing. Perhaps it’s a matter you should discuss with her rather than myself.’

      Rowan was breathless by the time she reached their front door. She pushed the key into the latch and twisted it, and the door gave instantly. Antonia was on her knees at the sideboard and she looked round as Rowan marched in.

      ‘I’m looking for old Fawcett’s inventory,’ she said without preamble. ‘It must be around somewhere, and I’m damned if I’m leaving anything of ours for the next tenants.’

      ‘So it’s true.’ Rowan dropped limply into one of the chairs beside the dining table. ‘What have you done? I know it’s not Knightsbridge, but it’s clean and quiet and cheap and he doesn’t bother us.’

      Antonia got up from her knees. ‘You don’t have to sing its praises to me,’ she said shortly. ‘I’m quite aware of all its dubious advantages, including the low rent. Unfortunately even that is more than we can afford just at present.’

      ‘Since when?’ Rowan began to feel as if the world was tottering in pieces all around her.

      ‘Since last night.’ Antonia came over and sat down on the opposite side of the table, facing her. She was very pale, and her eyes were narrowed as if the light was hurting them. She looked across at Rowan’s suddenly bleak face and gave a small rather malicious smile. ‘But don’t worry, sweetie, we won’t be sleeping on the Embankment just yet. We do have another hole to go to.’

      ‘One that we can afford?’ Rowan moved her stiff lips.

      ‘Rent-free, my dear, in return for services rendered. Only not, I fear, in London.’

      ‘Not in London?’ Rowan repeated helplessly. ‘But Antonia, I can’t leave London—you know I can’t!’

      ‘I had no idea you were so devoted to the place,’ Antonia retorted. ‘I always had the feeling you preferred that place in Surrey.’

      ‘Well, so I did,’ Rowan stared at her with sudden hope. ‘Is that where we’re going—Surrey? Oh, that won’t be too bad. I can easily …’

      Antonia shook her head. ‘So sorry to disappoint you, but our destination is several hundred miles from Surrey,’ she said rather harshly. ‘We’re going to the Lake District, to a place called Ravensmere. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it and I understand it’s too small to have appeared on any but the most detailed of maps,’ she added with a faint curl of her lips.

      Rowan listened to her in stunned silence, then moistening her lips, she said, ‘I—I don’t believe it! You even hated the place in Surrey. You said it was too remote, and now you’re actually considering going to the other end of England.’

      ‘I’m not considering anything,’ Antonia said flatly. ‘I’m going, and you’re going with me.’

      Rowan shook her head. ‘No way,’ she said steadily. ‘I have a course to finish and exams to take, in case you’d forgotten.’

      ‘I’ve forgotten nothing.’ Antonia drew her pack of cigarettes towards her and lit one irritably. ‘Perhaps you’ve forgotten that all-important clause about our sharing the same roof until you’re twenty-one.’

      ‘Indeed I haven’t. We’ll just have to tell Daddy’s solicitors that we found it—impossible to comply with.’

      ‘We’ll do no such thing,’ Antonia returned inimically. ‘That money is a lifeline as far as I’m concerned, and you won’t find it so easy to make out as you seem to think once it’s gone.’

      ‘I’ll manage.’ Rowan lifted her chin stubbornly. ‘And if it means that much to you, you could manage too. We can catch Mr Fawcett and tell him you’ve changed your mind about leaving and …’

      Antonia’s hand shot across the table and gripped Rowan’s arm. She had been on the point of rising, but she hesitated now, almost pinned to her seat.

      ‘Unfortunately, it’s not as easy as that.’ Antonia paused. ‘You remember all the trouble that Alix and I had over the boutique’s closure?’

      ‘Not particularly,’ Rowan said drily. ‘It seemed to me at the time that the pair of you had emerged virtually unscathed.’

      ‘But not quite,’ said Antonia with a little snap. ‘I’d arranged all the financing, as you know, and I believed that my—backer was prepared to write the whole thing off as a loss.’ She paused again. ‘But I was wrong. He’s demanding payment in full.’

      Rowan gasped. ‘But when did you discover this?’

      ‘Last night.’ Antonia stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette in the saucer of a used coffee cup. ‘By the way, just as a matter of interest, who put me to bed?’

      ‘I did, of course.’

      ‘There’s no “of course” about it.’ Antonia sounded almost amused. ‘It wouldn’t have been the first time Carne had seen me without my dress, you know. I presume he did bring me back, and didn’t just abandon me to the mercies of some taxi driver?’

      ‘There was a man here.’ Rowan felt a betraying blush rise in her face and mentally kicked herself.

      ‘Was there?’ Antonia nodded gently, her eyes absorbing Rowan’s overt embarrassment. ‘I’ve known him for years, of course. His mother and mine were some sort of distant cousins—hundreds of times removed, of course, and too boringly complicated to explain or even remember. But Carne and I did see a lot of each other at one time. We even nearly got engaged. He was hopelessly in love with me,’ she added.

      In spite of herself, Rowan found she was visualising that dark, proud face with its cool, sensual mouth, and trying to imagine its owner in a state of hopeless love with