HF - 05 - Sunset (25 page)

'I feel much better, Aunt Helen,' Meg agreed. She had said little during the meal, had hardly listened to their frantic attempts at conversation. Was she mad, or merely desperate? But then, what she was proposing to herself was no different to what Oriole had proposed, or what, indeed, Walter Reynolds and Helen McAvoy would soon enough propose for her. There would be no question of Meg Hilton hanging around until she found someone with whom she could properly fall in love. Besides, she had tried that, and it hadn't altogether been a success.

And even more besides, she dared not wait until she was twenty-one. Three years was a terribly long time, and throughout that period Oriole would be practising her wiles, attempting to regain control. She did not know how reliable Walter Reynolds would be when it came to resisting the sort of pressure Oriole would apply. For all she knew, Oriole was on her way out to Jamaica at this moment, to descend upon her like an avenging angel. And Oriole would have a quite different tale to tell of what had happened in England. She might easily be able to persuade Walter Reynolds that Meg was a totally irresponsible young woman who needed the care of an older person, preferably a relative.

But if she was married, or about to be married, Oriole would be defeated before she could even deploy her troops. And if she was going to marry, then it should be someone

who loved
her.
There was the decisive point. Of course, Billy was himself not yet twenty-one. But he would be in six months. And he was then in any event going to become a partner in Reynolds and Son, which would in effect make him her guardian as much as his father.

'I think I would like to take a little walk,' she said. 'May I, Aunt Helen? Just to look at the place again? It seems so very long since last I was here.'

'Why, of course you may, Meg.' Helen gave one of her bright forced smiles. 'It is your home, after all. But I wonder
...'

'Perhaps Billy would walk with me.'

'Eh?' Billy nearly overturned his teacup. 'Oh, I say, of course, I'd be pleased to, Meg, really I would.'

'Well, then, if you'll excuse us.' Meg attempted to get up, and Billy hastily seized her chair to pull it away.

'Best thing for you, a walk,' Walter Reynolds said benignly.

Meg smiled at her future father-in-law, secured her parasol. Billy was already holding the door for her. She filled her lungs to the maximum. Hilltop air, drifting all the way down from the mountains. From the land of the drum. She wondered if she would hear them tonight.

'It is absolutely top hole, having you back.' Billy held the gate for her.
‘
I mean, I'm so terribly sorry about your dad, but you were coming back, anyway.'

'Yes,' she said, and raised her parasol.

'Where would you like to go?'

'Ah
...'
She pretended to think. 'Why not let's walk across to the Grandstand?'

'What a topping idea. Yes, indeed. The Grandstand.' He fell in at her side. 'It's nearly three years since I was over there. Do you remember? You got a thorn in your foot.' He frowned.

'Oh, I don't go barefoot any more,' she said. 'And that terrible boy Alan McAvoy wanted to fight with you, and ruined my hat.'

'Yes,' he said. 'My word, yes. I'd forgotten.'

'And my cousin arrived,' Meg said grimly, gazing at the sheep. How many kids or lambs had been stolen this past year, she wondered.

'Oh, yes. Quite a momentous occasion, wasn't it?' He brooded at the grass. 'Why did you quarrel with her, Meg? I don't mean to pry, of course

'She wanted me to marry a lord,' Meg said.

'A lord? My word.'

'Well, he would have become a lord,' Meg explained. 'When his father died.'

'Ah. Yes. I say, why didn't you?'

'Because I didn't love him.' Meg swung her hand; her knuckles brushed against Billy's.

'Ah. What a splendid way to look at it. I mean, a lord
...
you'd have been Lady
...
?'

'Claymond. But I don't want to be Lady Claymond. In the first place, I will never change my name from Hilton. And in the second place, when I marry, it shall be for love.'

'Oh, I say,' Billy said. But he didn't, actually, say anything more, and for a while they walked in silence. The Grandstand came in sight. It looked even more decrepit than she remembered, and the grass was even longer.

'Anyway,' she said, 'the man I marry must know Jamaica, and planting
...
although,' she hastily added, 'it isn't really necessary for him to know all that much about planting, because, as your dad said, I will be able to guide him. But he must know Jamaica. And how to deal with black people. And all that sort of thing.'

'Oh, I say,' Billy said again. 'But you are quite right. Only Jamaicans can know about Jamaica.'

'And,' Meg went on, 'it must be someone I know and who knows me. Someone I can trust. Because he will be the real Master of Hilltop, you see.'

'Master of Hilltop,' Billy murmured, standing at the sagging gate to the paddock and looking around him.

And Meg suddenly remembered her last words to him, before boarding the
Roddam.
Oh, my God, she thought. But she was not going to give
up
at this stage.

'He will also have to be master of me,' she said.

‘
Oh, I say
...'

'And all of my scandals.' Meg forced a smile. 'Actually, you know, there wasn't any scandal, really.' 'Oh, I know about that.' 'You do?'

'Yes, well
...
John Phillips and Dad are great pals, really, and, well
...'

Oh, damnation, Meg thought. And yet, if it had been an unnecessary embarrassment, it at least proved that the fact of her having spent a night in the mountains hadn't actually put him off her. 'You'll see better from the upper level,' she said, wondering just what would be required actually to make him propose. But a glimpse of stocking might help.

She climbed the steps, and they creaked.

'Be careful,' Billy called. But he was looking up. Meg hoisted her skirts a bit higher, gained the first floor, and discovered she was panting. There was another tier above, where the family boxes, and those of their most distinguished guests, had been situated in the old days. She had never ventured up there before, because that floor had gaping holes in it where the wood had sagged right away. And the stairs wobbled even when she leaned against them. She began to climb, skirts pulled to her knees in her left hand, right hand grasping the shaking bannister.

'Oh, I say.' Billy hastened up the lower stairs, checked as a board creaked. 'Do be careful, Meggie.'

She would have to break him of that habit, for a start. 'It's all right, really. Up you come.'

'I'm heavier than you,' he said doubtfully.

Meg sighed. She had reached the upper level. She wouldn't risk the floor, but remained at the top of the step, letting her skirts blow, now, because the evening breeze had freshened, and was taking her hair as well; she had not bothered to put her turban on after tea. 'The view is
stupendous. You can see everything. Even the bananas.'

'Oh, I say. Can you?' Billy tested the first step.

'The thing is,' Meg said, looking down and encountering his gaze coming up. She spread her legs, standing astride, almost immediately above his head, holding on to the bannister with both hands. 'He would also have to change his name to Hilton.'

'Eh?'

'I promised Daddy.' Well, she thought, I
would
have promised Daddy, if he'd asked me. 'The Hilton name mustn't die, and I'm the very last. My only cousins are girls.'

'Oh, I say.' Billy was panting, and taking his steps very carefully, testing each one before allowing his weight on to it. He was also handicapped because he could not stop himself looking up.

'But that shouldn't be very important to the man who would be Master of Hilltop,' Meg said thoughtfully, and slipped. She thrust her right foot one way, her left foot the other, and scattered down the first three steps. When she was sure that he could reach her she released the bannisters and landed beside him with a thump which was followed by a dreadful cracking noise. 'Oh, my God,' she screamed. She hadn't intended anything quite as dramatic as that.

'Hold on,' Billy bawled, holding on to the bannister instead of her, she discovered to her dismay. But at least she wasn't falling, although she had certainly sunk, and when she tried to move she discovered she was gripped, at once underneath her thighs and in the small of her back.

'Meg?' Billy had ascertained that the bannister had stopped moving. 'Are you all right ?'

'My bottom is stuck.'

'Your
...
let me help you.' He held her wrists, and pulled.

'Ow. Stop it.'

He released her. 'But, you can't just stay there.' 'How far up are we ?'

Billy looked down. 'About fiv
e feet from the next floor.'

'Well, then, go down and push.'

'Push? Oh, I say ...
well, I couldn't.'

'Yes you can,' she insisted crossly. 'I am asking you to, so that is quite all right.'

'Oh. I suppose you're right.' Billy went down the stairs, disappeared underneath. 'Are you ready?' His voice drifted up to her.

'Just a moment.' She grasped the bannisters. 'Yes.'

There was a moment's hesitation, then she felt his fingers gripping her bottom. 'Here goes,' he said.

His hands pushed, and she pulled, and felt herself coming free. But she didn't want it to happen too quickly; she presumed she might as well take advantage of even a mishap like this. She allowed herself to sag backwards, and he gave a grunt, and now she could feel his fingers; one hand had slipped between her legs.

'Once more,' she said

'Oh, Lord,' he groaned, but pushed again, and this time she allowed herself to come free in a rush, and kept on going, down the stairs, to meet him at the foot. 'Oh Meg.' His face was crimson. 'Are you all right?'

'A little shaken.' Her own face was burning. She leaned against him, and after another brief hesitation felt his arms go round her. 'That was awfully gallant of you, Billy. I knew I could depend on you.'

'Yes, well
...'
His fingers tightened on her shoulders, slipped into the small of her back. She had a deal of teaching to do here as well, she supposed. But teaching Billy might be amusing. 'Meg
...'

'Yes,' she said. 'Oh, yes, yes, yes.'

'I mean, will you marry me, Meg? Supposing Father will give his permission.'

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, yes, yes.'

'Well,' remarked Walter Reynolds. 'Well, I do declare.' But he was obviously delighted. Meg and Billy stood before him, holding hands. Billy had wanted to stay at the Racecourse,

and do a little more than hold hands, but Meg had refused. She did not want to be disappointed before she was married, and if it was a case of educating Billy, that too would be far better done in the comfort and privacy of their own bedroom, with no one in the world possessing the right to interrupt them or criticize them. 'What do you think, Helen?'

Helen McAvoy forced a smile; poor woman, Meg thought, she also must have hoped for Alan. 'I think it is a marvellous idea, Walt.'

'Oh, thank you,' Meg said. 'Can it be soon? Right away?' 'Oh, no, no,' Walter Reynolds said. 'It wouldn't be right.'

'Your father has been dead only a week, Meg,' Helen said. 'You'll have to wait at least six months.' 'Six months ?' she cried.

‘I’ll
be twenty-one,' Billy remarked, perhaps to himself.

'Six months,' Walter Reynolds said. 'There is a good time for an engagement. It will give us time to have things prepared, eh?'

'Of course,' Helen agreed. 'You have returned without any clothes. Well, we will be able to have yours sent out from England, I have no doubt, yet will you need a great many more, and then there are the details to be seen to
...'

'Six months,' Meg muttered. But there was no need for that to be a disaster. 'And Billy will be twenty-one, Uncle Walt. So it will not be necessary to hire an attorney to manage the plantation. Billy and I will do it.'

'Bless my soul.' Once again Walter Reynolds looked at Helen.

'Well,' she said, 'I am sure Harry would be happy to look after things for that short period.'

'That would be splendid,' Meg said. 'Because of course we shall need all of his experience to set us off on the right track, won't we Billy?'

She squeezed his hand.

'Eh?' He seemed to awaken f
rom a reverie. 'Oh, yes, in
deed, Father. I'm going to be a planter. I'm going to be a Hilton.' 'Eh?'

'Well
...'
Meg licked her lips. She would have preferred
that
piece of news to have been broken more tactfully. 'It was what Father would have wished. There will be no Hiltons after me.'

'My word.' Walter Reynolds stared at Helen.