Read Online Return to Coolami by Eleanor Dark - Free Book Online

called out gaily from the back, “Are you feeling suicidal, Daddy?” Because he’d suddenly remembered that Travers, coming for a final inspection with him, had actually said complacently, “Quite my best, Mr. Drew. I’m proud of it. It’s a credit to us both!”
    Oh, blast the house! Blast all houses! The road swung round and a signboard leapt out before them, vastly lettered:
    â€œ BULLABURRA .”
    â€œHell!”
though Drew furiously, roaring past it, “Jabber-jabber, confounded gibberish—!”
    Millicent glanced sideways, cautiously, at his crimson face.

CHAPTER SEVEN
1
    B RET looked at his watch and Susan asked him idly:
    â€œWhat’s the time?”
    â€œEight o’clock.”
    â€œHeavens! Only just breakfast time!”
    â€œHungry?”
    â€œNo. But I’d like a smoke.”
    â€œI’ve been wanting one ever since we started.”
    She called:
    â€œDaddy!” and her father answered with a grunt and a movement of his head.
    â€œWe’re both suffering for a cigarette. What about a halt?”
    He said crossly:
    â€œYou smoke too much.” And then he asked Milly. “Where do you want to have breakfast?”
    She thought for a moment. She was feeling rather miserable. It was inevitable that sooner or later out of that phrase remembered from so long ago should arise a picture of the house it so justly described. “Fool! Fool!” she cried angrily at herself, staggered and humbled that she could for even a second be so forgetful, so hideously and cruelly tactless—
    How strong was it – that satisfaction of Tom’s? That conviction of a triumph of which his house was the symbol? Strong enough to shield him from the appalling and quite accidental justice of that stark description? She hoped feverishly that it was, and then,confusedly, that it wasn’t. For Tom, the Tom she loved, was not a man of dull perceptions and she could not wish him so; he was only a man obsessed and driven. She hadn’t dared, yet, to admit even to herself how much she had hoped that now, with his goal achieved, his obsession satisfied, she might find another Tom whom she’d seen so far only in glimpses – rarely –
    And now she had done, perhaps, irreparable harm. Something had made him angry, hurt. You don’t live with a man for one year, let alone thirty-seven, without learning to read storm-signals on his face! It could only be that. Even now his mouth looked grim and his eyes gloomy. A dozen slick remarks in praise and admiration of his house flashed into her mind but she thrust them out hurriedly. She couldn’t say things so blatantly insincere, nor was Tom the man to be mollified by them. He hadn’t guessed before, she was very nearly sure, that she didn’t share his admiration and his pride. It had been easy enough at first to take refuge in her gratitude, her love – these went deep, and she had used them without shame to cover a dismay and a dislike which would have come near to breaking his heart. Yes, it had been very easy, confronted with one perfection after another, to turn her back on a mingled despair and amusement fast mounting to hysteria, and to follow the more fundamental cry of her heart: “How
good
he is! How kind! How hard he has worked to get all this – for me!” Her kisses, her eager gratitude had not, she knew, lacked conviction then. It hadn’t really mattered at all that what he thought was gratitude for the house was really gratitude for himself—
    She said slowly
    â€œJust anywhere where there’s a view, dear.”
    â€œBetter go on a little farther then.”
    Millicent put her right hand on his knee, and for a moment his left came down from the wheel to cover it. She said eagerly:
    â€œI’ve never felt so much as though I were flying,” and took the little smile he gave her to her heart for comfort.
    It did really, she thought, feel