Catier's strike (14 page)

She felt the cotton material give as he cut it from the back, and it was only a matter of seconds before the tattered remains of the shirt were eased from her shoulders.

It wasn't much consolation, but Sarah was glad that she still had her bra on, so at least she was still decent, but she had reckoned without Sean, who, without a by your leave, slipped the strap down from her injured shoulder, and left her feeling as if she was taking part in a strip-tease. Somewhere, she thought wildly, there should be accompanying music, only she didn't have a feather to cover herself with, she mused hysterically, as she clutched hastily at the slowly lowering strap that was about to reveal all.

Sean was dipping the cotton wool into the liniment at that point, but was not too absorbed in his task to miss this sudden action of preservation on Sarah's part. 'If you're putting on an act for my benefit, forget it,' he said angrily. `Like me, you've been around. Trying to act the innocent cuts no ice with me. It just bores me.' He gave a swift glance about the room. The old counterpane had been changed for a soft blue one, the rickety chair replaced by an old but comfortable armchair, and the lino covered by a long blue runner carpet. 'You've fooled Lin, I see,' he commented caustically, 'and that's pretty good. I always thought he was more than shrewd.'

He dabbed on the linimen
t with sure practised strokes. B
ut then you're good at fooling people, aren't you?' he went on, 'even wise old Lin. It just goes to show how much damage you can do.' He popped the soaked cotton wool back into the bowl, and stood up and gazed down at her. 'I suppose there's lots more Dons out there, aren't there, just panting to fall under your spell. Makes

you feel good, does it, seeing a man on his knees? Well, that little pleasure will have to wait a mite longer,' he added harshly, then he walked towards the door, but looked back at her as he opened it. 'Of course,' he mused hatefully, 'it could be months before they decide to publish that find, maybe years.'

Sarah's brilliant eyes showed her feelings, and he gave a low laugh. 'What a pity it's all wasted. You could be past your prime when the all clear's given.'

She wanted to throw the bowl at him, but she knew the chances were that she would miss and leave a mess for poor Lin to clear up the following day, so she contented herself by paying Sean back in his own coin. She sent him a luring smile—as he had said, she was practised in cajolery. 'Aren't you going to help me into this lovely nightie?' she asked huskily. 'I'm practically helpless, you know,' she added temptingly.

She had the pleasure of seeing Sean's face harden, and his eyes pierced hers. 'I might take you up on that some time,' he said harshly. `Thank your lucky stars that you're out of action for the time being,' and he slammed the door behind him as he stamped out of the room.

Sarah sat blinking in amazement at her audacity. How could she have been so stupid! If he had taken her up on her offer she would have died of shame! She eased herself down into the bed. Already the shoulder had lost its stiffness. Whatever liniment he had used, it was working, and by the next day should be hardly noticeable.

Her eyelids drooped as she felt sleep stealing

over her. Why on earth had she taunted him like that? she thought drowsily. How stupid could you get? Yet somehow she had known that she was safe. He had put enough distance between them the last time his feelings got the better of him, hadn't he? No, she concluded, with a drowsy sigh, he might be attracted to her, but his pride would always win the day. On this comfortable thought, she fell asleep.

The next morning her shoulder was so much better that she was able to dress without too much discomfort. Purplish blue patches were appearing at the top of her arm, and this was all to the good, she thought, as she slipped on the blouse of her silk suit. Apart from Martha's revealing T-shirt, that she couldn't possibly wear until she had stitched up the front, she had no option but to wear the blouse, that had not taken kindly to washing, owing to the fact that it needed special treatment, and was a mass of creases. There was also the salient fact that it was meant for more fancy occasions than a stay in the wilds. Sarah had been in attendance at a
prize giving
ceremony when the summons had come through for this assignment, and had only been able to dash back to the flat to pick up her overnight case, that was always kept at the ready for such occasions.

She sighed as she surveyed the limp wrinkled patches on the blouse. If only she had known—The first thing on the agenda now was a needle and thread. She ought to have seen to it before, she told herself, as she made her way down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Lin's half worried glance at her on her arrival in the kitchen, turned into a pleased smile when she said airily, 'All right, I forgive you. I hadn't thought you might get into trouble if you didn't tell the boss.'

On his enquiry on how the shoulder was, she was able to give a favourable report. The stiffness had gone, she told him.

After breakfast, she was mystified by Lin's solemn, 'Missy come with me,' and followed him warily out of the kitchen and through to the main section of the homestead.

For obvious reasons, she hung back from what she was certain was going to be a confrontation with Sean, and sensing her reluctance, Lin said simply, 'Boss says you need shirts. We go and see what's what.'

Sarah's eyebrows rose, as she wondered whose shirts would be offered. Lin's or Sean's? Lin's would fit her better than his boss's. On the other hand, Sean's shirts would make her a nice mini-dress, although she wasn't too sure that Lin would approve, she thought
light heartedly
, her spirits somewhat lightened after her fears of meeting Sean had been dispelled.

To her amazement, the room Lin took her to was as feminine a boudoir as she had ever seen. Soft lilacs and pinks blended together, with deep purple drapes at the wide windows, and a matching velvet counterpane on the splendid divan. Lovely watercolour pictures hung on the Regency striped walls, and on either side of the fitted dressing-table unit were deep fitted wardrobes, where Lin was obviously headed, followed

a little reluctantly by Sarah, her feet sinking into the deep pile of a lilac carpet.

There couldn't have been a greater comparison from this suite with the room that Sarah had been given, for it had its own en-suite shower room, that she caught sight of through an open door, as tastefully fitted out as the room she was in, and she could now understand Lin's embarrassment on learning where she was to be billeted.

However, had she been given a choice she would cheerfully have plumped for the quarters she was in, rather than these ultra-luxurious surroundings, particularly under the circumstances of her presence at the homestead. She wasn't a guest, just a tramp Sean Cartier had wanted to teach a lesson.

Lin slid one of the wardrobe doors back and disclosed shelves with several feminine articles on them, among them light blouses and warm jumpers. 'Boss says take what you want,' he invited her smilingly.

Sarah stared at the clothes. They were not off-the-peg articles, but costly garments, and she was horrified at the thought of raiding someone else's wardrobe, and moved back away from the wardrobe as if she had been caught stealing. 'I'd rather not,' she said firmly, convinced that these clothes belonged to one of Sean Cartier's women, and she would rather wear Martha's T-shirt, deep V or no deep VI

Lin surveyed her solemnly. 'Missy Kathy not mind,' he said softly in his sing-song voice.

`But I do,' Sarah stated flatly. 'No matter about what Missy Kathy likes. If you could let

me have a needle and thread, I can manage with what I've got,' she said firmly.

Lin's expression was quite comical, and if Sarah hadn't been so put out by the fact that Sean Cartier expected her to wear his women's clothes, she might have been amused. As it was, she was coldly furious.

`No understand,' Lin said patiently. 'Missy Kathy boss's sister. Now Missy Bandaman. Comes for break from city sometimes. No come for some time,' he added urgingly.

Sarah could not understand why Lin's words gave her such a lift of the heart, but they did, and she wasn't about to seek an explanation. However, Mrs Bandaman—all women, it seemed, were 'Missy' to Lin—would not feel at all happy at someone wearing her clothes. 'I'm not all that badly off for clothes, Lin,' she said cheerfully, `and I'm not expecting to stay all that long,' and she turned to leave.

She had reckoned without Lin's persistence, for he stood his ground, and pulled out an ace that he had apparently kept up his sleeve that was somewhat reminiscent of his master. 'Boss angry with Lin if Missy doesn't use clothes,' he said simply, managing to look very worried indeed.

Sarah stared at him, trying to read those enigmatic eyes of his, then sighed. He could be right, she thought. That man gave orders and expected them to be carried out, and recalling how angry he had been when he thought that she had been sleeping in her day clothes, she thought it was quite possible that he would take it out on Lin.

With the utmost reluctance, she selected three plain blouses, and a warm jumper, and with a pleased smile Lin gathered them up, then directed her attention to the drawers of the dressing-table, with a 'Missy find more in there,' then with the discretion that was typical of him he silently left her.

As expected, she found dainty silk underwear, again of the best quality, and not too happily she selected only the minimum of what she would need, telling herself that she would replace them, as soon as the all clear was sounded, and refusing to dwell on Sean's dark hints of a long stay.

Lin appeared again when she had closed the drawers, and escorted her back to the kitchen quarters with the loot, as she regarded it, and she carried it off to her room.

A DAY later, Lin's bright and confident forecast that Missy Bandaman would not be likely to pay them a visit suffered a severe setback with the arrival of that lady.

Again, it was Lin who first heard the arrival of a vehicle and with a nod of certainty said to Sarah, `Missy Pauline,' as he left the kitchen with Sean's mid-morning coffee tray.

However, he very shortly returned for an extra cup, his normally calm demeanour showing some agitation. 'Missy Bandaman,' he said.

Sarah, glancing down at the beautiful lawn blouse she was wearing, left the room and made her way to her own room. She was taking no chances of being found with the goods on her, and from past experience she could not rely on being safe in the kitchen!

She was halfway along the passage when she heard a female voice demanding, 'Who is she, Sean? I met Pauline yesterday at the Deckmans', and she told me you'd got some blonde up here, helping out in the kitchen. Some drifter you'd picked up in Darwin, she gleaned. Lin's managed perfectly well all these years without help, so what's going on? It's not like you to fall for a hard luck story.'

Sarah grimaced as she sped on to her room to change. So Pauline Cook hadn't accepted Sean's

explanation for her presence in the homestead, if he had bothered to give her one, and knowing him this was unlikely. He did precisely what he wanted to do, girl-friend or no girl-friend, she thought sourly as she reached her room and proceeded to remove the blouse.

One look at her creased silk blouse, now more creased, because she had tucked it back into her overnight case in the mistaken belief that she would not have to wear it again, made her fish out Martha's T-shirt. Beggars could not be choosers, she told herself as she slipped it on, and made the mistake of glancing in the mirror at her reflection, then wished she hadn't. The wretched front was even lower than she had thought it was, and made her decide to stay put in the hope that Mrs Bandaman would make an early departure. She had no intention of giving credence to Pauline Cook's spiteful comment of her being a drifter.

However, there was no peace for the wicked, and Sarah thought that she must be very wicked, by the way things had a nasty habit of backfiring on her, for after a tentative knock at her door by Lin, she was told that boss wanted to see her.

Sarah saw Lin's startled look at the T-shirt, but by now he must be getting inured to shocks, she presumed, by his swift recovery and polite waiting position giving her no option but to accompany him.

They went through the kitchen, and towards the front of the house, and after turning a corner came to the entrance hall that Sarah had only seen once since her arrival, and had not been given chance to linger in.

As in the bedroom suite that she had seen a day ago, no expense had been spared. The hall carpet was as deep as the bedroom one, only in more sober colours that echoed the deep rich pine of the hall furniture, and a large gilt mirror hung on one side, giving the area an awesomely roomy appearance, while the steady ticking of a tall beautifully ornate grandfather clock added to Sarah's apprehension, that was somewhat underlined by catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as they passed.

Lin tapped on a door on the right of the hall, and without more ado, Sarah found herself ushered into a room as tastefully furnished as one would expect from the small glimpses of the homestead's main quarters that she had so far seen.

Her gaze, however, went directly to a tall, slender woman standing next to Sean on the rich hearthrug in front of an ornate fireplace.

She felt, rather than saw, Sean's quick gaze at her apparel, and for a moment it appeared to have taken the wind out of his sails, as it was his sister who spoke first.