bound to see a certain amount of him and that alone was enough to set her spirits leaping. It would be good to have something to do again! How pleased her father would be when he knew, for he too knew how frustrating it was to be at a loose end, without the discipline of work to give shape to one’s days.
But, when she opened the front door of the oast-house, she could hear his distressed breathing coming from the sitting room and immediately forgot all about everything else.
“Have you got your spray?” she called out to him, hurrying into the room.
Her father was sitting in his favourite chair, his face grey and strained, and it was a moment before she realised that he was not alone. Standing beside the chair with his back to her stood Alec Farne. He turned at her entrance, a smile of welcome on his face.
“Sarah, you’re looking very pretty!”
Sarah faced him angrily. “What have you said to upset him?” she demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I like that! I thought you’d be pleased to see me! I haven’t said anything to him. I found the door open and as nobody answered my knock I came in here. He took one look at me and started gasping for breath. I did what I could for him, but—well, I’ve never seen anyone with asthma before.”
“Gave him a fright!” her father panted apologetically.
Sarah tried to still the dart of anxiety that shot through her. Surely no one could go on like this for long, fighting for every breath at every gasp.
“You ought to be in bed, Dad,” she said.
He attempted a smile. “I’ll do, Sarah. You’d better make some tea for this young man who’s come all this way to see you. I expect he’s still hoping to talk you into doing his play.”
“Then he’ll be unlucky,” Sarah retorted lightly. “I’ve found myself a job here, as a matter of fact. Secretary to the Chaddoxbourne Estate! What do you think of that?”
Her father smiled weakly. “So Robert found you by the river?”
“Secretary! ” Alec Farne exclaimed. “Sarah, you can’t! I won’t allow it! Good heavens, girl, haven’t you any idea of how talented you are? You can’t waste all that doing secretarial work for some village yokel!”
“Robert is a solicitor,” Sarah said carefully.
“That doesn’t make you a typist!”
Sarah turned back to her father, controlling her temper with some difficulty. Alec Farne was often referred to as being handsome, but he looked pale and drawn to her when she compared him with the men who lived locally, men like Robert Chaddox, tanned by the sun and fit enough to walk a dozen miles without collapsing.
“Not a good typist,” she agreed. “But I hope to make an adequate one. Dad, don’t you think you’d be better off in bed?”
Daniel Blaney nodded, his laboured breathing worse than ever. “Alec will give me a hand upstairs. You make the tea.”
Sarah watched them set off, hoping that Alec would ignore her father’s objections and lift him bodily up the stairs. The producer was not a particularly strong man, however, and he was panting from the effort when he came back downstairs.
“Your father weighs a ton! What have you been feeding him on?” He looked her up and down as she stood by the stove, waiting for the kettle to boil. “You’ve put on some weight yourself ! ”
“I have not!” Sarah denied.
“It suits you,” Alec smiled. “What makes your father go like that?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He’s been so much better recently. When I went out he was breathing absolutely normally. I can’t think what set him off. You didn’t say anything, did you?”
“I’ll say I did! I told him what I thought of your coming down here to look after him and that he was a selfish old man. Well, what do you expect, Sarah my love? The other girl has two left feet on any stage and can’t learn her lines!”
“Oh, Alec, you didn’t?”
Alec Farne stared at her moodily. “It’s true, isn’t it?” He gnawed at
But, when she opened the front door of the oast-house, she could hear his distressed breathing coming from the sitting room and immediately forgot all about everything else.
“Have you got your spray?” she called out to him, hurrying into the room.
Her father was sitting in his favourite chair, his face grey and strained, and it was a moment before she realised that he was not alone. Standing beside the chair with his back to her stood Alec Farne. He turned at her entrance, a smile of welcome on his face.
“Sarah, you’re looking very pretty!”
Sarah faced him angrily. “What have you said to upset him?” she demanded. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I like that! I thought you’d be pleased to see me! I haven’t said anything to him. I found the door open and as nobody answered my knock I came in here. He took one look at me and started gasping for breath. I did what I could for him, but—well, I’ve never seen anyone with asthma before.”
“Gave him a fright!” her father panted apologetically.
Sarah tried to still the dart of anxiety that shot through her. Surely no one could go on like this for long, fighting for every breath at every gasp.
“You ought to be in bed, Dad,” she said.
He attempted a smile. “I’ll do, Sarah. You’d better make some tea for this young man who’s come all this way to see you. I expect he’s still hoping to talk you into doing his play.”
“Then he’ll be unlucky,” Sarah retorted lightly. “I’ve found myself a job here, as a matter of fact. Secretary to the Chaddoxbourne Estate! What do you think of that?”
Her father smiled weakly. “So Robert found you by the river?”
“Secretary! ” Alec Farne exclaimed. “Sarah, you can’t! I won’t allow it! Good heavens, girl, haven’t you any idea of how talented you are? You can’t waste all that doing secretarial work for some village yokel!”
“Robert is a solicitor,” Sarah said carefully.
“That doesn’t make you a typist!”
Sarah turned back to her father, controlling her temper with some difficulty. Alec Farne was often referred to as being handsome, but he looked pale and drawn to her when she compared him with the men who lived locally, men like Robert Chaddox, tanned by the sun and fit enough to walk a dozen miles without collapsing.
“Not a good typist,” she agreed. “But I hope to make an adequate one. Dad, don’t you think you’d be better off in bed?”
Daniel Blaney nodded, his laboured breathing worse than ever. “Alec will give me a hand upstairs. You make the tea.”
Sarah watched them set off, hoping that Alec would ignore her father’s objections and lift him bodily up the stairs. The producer was not a particularly strong man, however, and he was panting from the effort when he came back downstairs.
“Your father weighs a ton! What have you been feeding him on?” He looked her up and down as she stood by the stove, waiting for the kettle to boil. “You’ve put on some weight yourself ! ”
“I have not!” Sarah denied.
“It suits you,” Alec smiled. “What makes your father go like that?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He’s been so much better recently. When I went out he was breathing absolutely normally. I can’t think what set him off. You didn’t say anything, did you?”
“I’ll say I did! I told him what I thought of your coming down here to look after him and that he was a selfish old man. Well, what do you expect, Sarah my love? The other girl has two left feet on any stage and can’t learn her lines!”
“Oh, Alec, you didn’t?”
Alec Farne stared at her moodily. “It’s true, isn’t it?” He gnawed at
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