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Authors: Robyn Donald
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of course, but I won't lose sight of you.'
This was one aspect of the business Linnet had not thought of. Fortunately Sarah didn't seem disposed to take it
any further, though she was a little subdued for the rest of the afternoon.
But at seven-thirty that evening me telephone went; Bronwyn answered, nodded a couple of times, then hung
up.
'They want you up at the house,' she said crisply. 'Sarah is having a tantrum and won't go to bed until you're
mere.'
So Linnet ran up to me house, her forehead creased into a frown.
Justin was in the bedroom, stroking me child's hot forehead, but he stood when Anna led Linnet into the room
and moved aside. He looked very angry; somehow Linnet knew that his anger was directed not at the child but
at her. Nobody could possibly be angry with the small heap of grief in the bed.
'Sarah,' she said tentatively, 'Sarah, it's me.'
A hot little hand squirmed out from under the covers, grasped hers and held on tight.
'That's a shocking noise,' Linnet said calmly. 'Have you given yourself a headache yet?'
There was a gulp, a muffled, 'No,' and the sobbing eased slightly.
'Well, you're about to give me one,’ Linnet went on. 'What disaster has occurred?'
Sarah loved big words. The weeping ceased, except for the involuntary whoop that comes after prolonged
sobbing. '
'Better blow your nose,’ Linnet said matter-of-factly. 'Here, here's my hankie.'
Sarah blew, handed it back and emerged, flushed, tragic-eyed, her sensitive mouth trembling. 'I don't want you
to go to w-work!' she whispered. 'I don't want you to be away. The days are so long and you make me laugh. I
want you to stay with me.'
Forgetful of the presence behind her, Linnet bent forward and took the mutely pleading little face between both
hands, kissing each flushed cheek.
'My poor darling, you have got yourself into a tizz,' she said tenderly, ‘Now, I'm going to tell you a story, and’
when I come to the end of it you'll be asleep.'
‘But you won't go away, will you?'
'No, I won't go away.' It was a reckless promise, but one that Linnet had every intention of keeping. Only later
did she realise how inextricably the child was entwined in her heartstrings.
It took only five minutes of low talking before Sarah was asleep. Releasing the now cool little hand, Linnet
stood up, surprised to see that Justin Doyle was still there.
In silence she preceded him out into the hall; it came as no surprise when he said quietly, 'I want to talk to you,'
and opened the door into his study.
Her eyes flew to me painting, but she looked at k for only a few moments before turning to face him, her hands
clasped behind her back as she braced herself to meet an onslaught.
He surprised her by saying, 'Sit down, Linnet,' as he gestured towards a chair.
Gingerly she perched herself on the very edge, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. He looked tired, the
magnificent virility dimmed, but there was no diminishing of the cold command of the man.
'Now perhaps you can tell me what all that was about/ he said as he leant against the desk.
So she told him.
When she had finished he was silent, his eyes fixed on her face with a regard as intent as it was impersonal.
Uneasy beneath the concentrated impact she moved restlessly, lowered her gaze, clasped her hands together in
her lap and wished he would say something.
'I realised she'd taken a violent fancy to you,' he said at last, just before she screamed, 'but I hadn't realised it
went so deep.'
'I hadn't either. It's because she hasn't any playmates.'
He shrugged. 'Possibly. It could as easily be because she has no mother. Whatever the reason, she has
apparently given her heart to you. I've never seen her so distraught.'
Which made her feel guilty. 'I'm sorry,' she said, wishing fervently that the child hadn't the ability to tug so
violently at her heartstrings.
Surprisingly Justin smiled, bleakly it was true, but it did warm the coldness of his expression. 'It's
This was one aspect of the business Linnet had not thought of. Fortunately Sarah didn't seem disposed to take it
any further, though she was a little subdued for the rest of the afternoon.
But at seven-thirty that evening me telephone went; Bronwyn answered, nodded a couple of times, then hung
up.
'They want you up at the house,' she said crisply. 'Sarah is having a tantrum and won't go to bed until you're
mere.'
So Linnet ran up to me house, her forehead creased into a frown.
Justin was in the bedroom, stroking me child's hot forehead, but he stood when Anna led Linnet into the room
and moved aside. He looked very angry; somehow Linnet knew that his anger was directed not at the child but
at her. Nobody could possibly be angry with the small heap of grief in the bed.
'Sarah,' she said tentatively, 'Sarah, it's me.'
A hot little hand squirmed out from under the covers, grasped hers and held on tight.
'That's a shocking noise,' Linnet said calmly. 'Have you given yourself a headache yet?'
There was a gulp, a muffled, 'No,' and the sobbing eased slightly.
'Well, you're about to give me one,’ Linnet went on. 'What disaster has occurred?'
Sarah loved big words. The weeping ceased, except for the involuntary whoop that comes after prolonged
sobbing. '
'Better blow your nose,’ Linnet said matter-of-factly. 'Here, here's my hankie.'
Sarah blew, handed it back and emerged, flushed, tragic-eyed, her sensitive mouth trembling. 'I don't want you
to go to w-work!' she whispered. 'I don't want you to be away. The days are so long and you make me laugh. I
want you to stay with me.'
Forgetful of the presence behind her, Linnet bent forward and took the mutely pleading little face between both
hands, kissing each flushed cheek.
'My poor darling, you have got yourself into a tizz,' she said tenderly, ‘Now, I'm going to tell you a story, and’
when I come to the end of it you'll be asleep.'
‘But you won't go away, will you?'
'No, I won't go away.' It was a reckless promise, but one that Linnet had every intention of keeping. Only later
did she realise how inextricably the child was entwined in her heartstrings.
It took only five minutes of low talking before Sarah was asleep. Releasing the now cool little hand, Linnet
stood up, surprised to see that Justin Doyle was still there.
In silence she preceded him out into the hall; it came as no surprise when he said quietly, 'I want to talk to you,'
and opened the door into his study.
Her eyes flew to me painting, but she looked at k for only a few moments before turning to face him, her hands
clasped behind her back as she braced herself to meet an onslaught.
He surprised her by saying, 'Sit down, Linnet,' as he gestured towards a chair.
Gingerly she perched herself on the very edge, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. He looked tired, the
magnificent virility dimmed, but there was no diminishing of the cold command of the man.
'Now perhaps you can tell me what all that was about/ he said as he leant against the desk.
So she told him.
When she had finished he was silent, his eyes fixed on her face with a regard as intent as it was impersonal.
Uneasy beneath the concentrated impact she moved restlessly, lowered her gaze, clasped her hands together in
her lap and wished he would say something.
'I realised she'd taken a violent fancy to you,' he said at last, just before she screamed, 'but I hadn't realised it
went so deep.'
'I hadn't either. It's because she hasn't any playmates.'
He shrugged. 'Possibly. It could as easily be because she has no mother. Whatever the reason, she has
apparently given her heart to you. I've never seen her so distraught.'
Which made her feel guilty. 'I'm sorry,' she said, wishing fervently that the child hadn't the ability to tug so
violently at her heartstrings.
Surprisingly Justin smiled, bleakly it was true, but it did warm the coldness of his expression. 'It's
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