Read Online Island-in-Waiting by Anthea Fraser - Free Book Online Page B

Despite their chatter, however, they ate remarkably quickly and were pushing back their chairs before I had eaten half my own meal. I wasn’t hungry anyway and abandoned it to embark on spooning out the ice-cream. Since I didn’t want any myself I was then free to go. I said good-bye to the girls and, avoiding the still crowded staff-room, went out by the other door leading directly on to the corridor. I pulled it shut behind me and turned to find myself face to face with Ray. He took my arm.
    â€œI’ve some sketches of the island to show you. They may give you an idea of where you’d like to go on Saturday.” Before I could think of an excuse he led me firmly down the passage and into a small room with canvases stacked all round the walls. “This is my private sanctum. I keep my equipment here, where it can be safely locked up. Some of it is quite valuable.”
    Dubiously, with the idea of escape still at the forefront of my-mind, I looked about me. On the easel at one end of the room was the half-completed portrait of an old woman and even I, with no knowledge of art, could see the expertise in the simple, telling strokes which had captured an impression of yearning loneliness. Interest overcame my hesitancy.
    â€œThat’s wonderful, Ray! Who is she?”
    â€œMy grandmother. The family’s pretty long-suffering about sitting for me. There are one or two sketches of them among the landscapes.”
    He gestured towards the nearest pile of canvases and I started to flick through them: seascapes, an imposing mountain scene, the impudent face of a small boy, a man with penetrating eyes and a small goatee beard –
    The canvases slithered to my feet in an untidy heap. Some corner of my mind noted Ray’s stillness but my eyes were locked on the top canvas, a face I knew I should never be able to forget. “Who –” My voice didn’t sound the first time: patiently I tried again. “Ray, who is that man?”
    â€œAnother relative.” His voice shook slightly. “The black sheep of the family, in fact – my Uncle Tom.”
    Black sheep – the ram darting into the road. I shook my head to clear it. “Uncle Tom?” I repeated stupidly.
    â€œThat’s right. Tom Kelly.”
    My voice seemed no part of me. “Is he – he’s a hypnotist, isn’t he?”
    Ray let out his breath in a long sigh. “He was once, yes.” The walls of the little room tilted ominously. “Could I sit down?”
    â€œOf course.” He lifted an untidy pile of papers from the room’s only chair and I lowered myself on to it, my hands tightening convulsively round the edge of the seat till the wood bit deeply into the palms. He stood watching me, the papers still in his arms. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œI had to do it, Chloe. I had to be sure.”
    I dragged my eyes to his face. “You mean you knew?”
    â€œThat you were the one he couldn’t bring round? Yes.”
    â€œHow?” The word was only a whisper, as though I didn’t really want an answer.
    â€œWe used to be pretty close, Uncle and I. I was over on the mainland when it happened and he phoned me in one hell of a flap asking what he should do. We’d had a game going between us for years – telepathy, hypnotism, all kinds of tests of will-power. He wanted me to join up with him as a double act but I was at art school by then and there seemed mote security in carrying on with that.”
    â€œYou mean he wanted you to try to wake me?”
    â€œHe didn’t know what he wanted. He went to pieces completely. Nothing like that had ever happened before. By the time I got to Oxford he’d changed his mind and clammed up. Wouldn’t tell me a thing about you, even your name. As you can imagine, having dropped everything to go to his assistance I was pretty rattled about