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第3章

Rochelle arrived back home at half-past three on the following Saturday afternoon, and was scarcely through the door when Jody said excitedly, 'I've some marvellous news to tell you, Rochelle! I've inherited a half-share in a castle in Ireland!'

'I'm not in the mood for fairy tales,' snapped Rochelle, picking up one of the suitcases which the taxi driver had dumped just inside the hall. 'The flight was awful-turbulence almost all the way. Make some tea; I'll be down in a few minutes when I've tidied myself up a bit.'

'I really have inherited half a castle,' Jody was saying twenty minutes later after she had poured the tea and handed Rochelle hers. 'Two days after you left, I had a letter. It's here; read it.' She passed it over, and staring at her with a frown of puzzlement and disbelief in her lovely eyes, Rochelle reached out to take it from her. 'I telephoned, then went to see this Mr. Thorpe,' Jody continued when Rochelle had read the letter and was handing it back. 'My mother's uncle owned half of this castle and he left it to her, so it came to me.' She continued, as briefly as she could, until Rochelle had the whole story. Jody did not know how Rochelle would take the news, and there was nothing in either her manner or her expression to reveal her thoughts, although she was keenly interested, especially when Jody talked about the owner of the other half, Conor Blake.

'And he's a bachelor, and really as handsome as you say?'

'He's exceptional, Rochelle! And the way he speaks-with a most attractive Irish brogue-and he's not at all arrogant, although you'd think he was to look at him, because he's so distinguished and… well, superior, sort of.'

'And he's to be your partner.' Soft the tone, inscrutable. Jody stared without knowing why, nor could she explain the quivering of a nerve in the pit of her stomach. Rochelle's face was a mask, but suddenly she produced a smile to which Jody responded, her stomach settling again.

'He already is my partner. Oh, Rochelle, you have no idea how happy I am! I had a beautiful bedroom-for two nights! And Mr. Blake was so nice to me! On both evenings we had dinner together in a huge dining room with beautiful furniture and Waterford chandeliers-and the food! You have never tasted anything like it! But of course, Rushwood Castle Hotel is internationally famous for its cuisine!' She paused, eyes shining… and she did not notice the cold gleam of envy in her listener's wide gaze. 'He showed me everything in the castle, and told me about the famous guests who come from all over the world, mainly America, because, after all, many Americans have Irish backgrounds. And guess what! I'm to have my great-uncle's private suite, where the sitting-room and bedroom windows have views of the lough!' Dreamily she recollected looking out from the window to the vast and hauntingly beautiful waters of the Corrib, with its numerous wooded islands floating like emeralds gleaming in a bed of soft velvet, and the highlands of Connemara, changing colours when the invading shadows of sunset turned the mauve to deep purple and the rose to russet brown. She remembered nighttime, too, when the moonlight lay cool and bright as silver on the tranquil, timeless waters of the lake. 'It must be the most beautiful scenery in the whole of Ireland,' added Jody enthusiastically.

'And you own half of this castle.' Rochelle's tone was low; she was talking to herself. 'It must be worth millions.'

Jody nodded at once. 'Several owners have added to it, each at great expense, and Mr. Blake was telling me that two of the rooms were built in honour of a visit to the castle by a king of England who stayed there for a whole month.'

'It must be famous, then.'

'I've just said so.' Pride edged Jody's voice, and a glint shone in Rochelle's eyes before they began to narrow slowly. She was lost in thought, and Jody seemed to sense an element of hostility in the silence. So it came as a complete surprise when Rochelle said, a warm smile on her lips, 'It sounds wonderful, Jody, and I do sincerely congratulate you. You're a most fortunate young woman, to become wealthy overnight.'

Jody looked at her for one uncertain moment, and then, strangely, she did not question her veracity. She must have been mistaken about that hostility, for nothing could be more open and genuine than the look in Rochelle's eyes as they met hers. Perhaps, thought Jody with a little access of happiness and hope, they might become good friends after all-real sisters, because, like her, Rochelle had no relatives. 'I'd love to see this castle,' went on Rochelle eagerly. 'When are you taking up residence?'

'In two weeks. Old Bill's there already. He went with me because I didn't want to go alone. And so he stayed.' A wry expression lit Jody's eyes as she added reflectively, 'He was quite overawed at first, and it was questionable as to whether he would stay. But when he was shown the lovely little stone cottage with its thatched roof which could be his, he made up his mind at once, and decided not to come back at all. I have a few things to collect for him, but there isn't much. I'll put it all into a box and take it with me as excess baggage.' All the time she was speaking, Rochelle's big blue eyes were fixed upon her with an odd expression, and when she had finished, she heard Rochelle say slowly and wonderingly, 'You've grown up, Jody. You seem most efficient, and to know exactly where you are going.'

'I must admit I've gained confidence. A little of it seemed to come as soon as I'd talked to Mr. Thorpe and realised I had a home and security. Then I seemed to gain more during those two days I was at the castle. Mr. Blake was so charming with me, and although he did regard me as a… well, a child, he also treated me as an equal, showing me everything, including the books, and advising me to have my own accountant to see to my affairs. It's plain that he and my great-uncle never had a cross word, and Mr. Blake seemed to think he ought to look after me… well, that was the impression I had.' Jody's eyes became dreamy and wide, and a lovely smile hovered on her lips. She was staring into space, thinking of the pleasure of being with Conor Blake, and so she missed the glint of cold steel that entered Rochelle's blue eyes and vanished a second before Jody looked at her again. 'He could easily have had someone else show me around the grounds,' she continued, 'but he took me himself. There's so much to see, Rochelle, you have no idea. And to think that half of it is mine.' She stopped and swallowed; speech had become too difficult for a few emotional seconds. 'It's like a miracle.'

'It is indeed.' Rochelle lifted her cup to sip her tea, her expression veiled. 'Tell me some more about this handsome partner of yours.'

'Mr. Blake!' Jody's eyes glowed. 'He's a very busy man, but he managed to spend quite a lot of time with me, telling me how the business started, and about the vast amount of renovating the castle had undergone at various stages of its history. It's no wonder it's one of the world's most famous hotels, because it's so beautiful and luxurious, and filled with exquisite carvings and antiques and paintings…' Jody allowed her voice to trail off as she gave a wry grimace. 'I could go on for hours about it,' she added self-depreciatingly.

'I was asking about your partner.'

'Oh, yes.' Again Jody's eyes came alive, crystal clear and sparkling. 'Well, I have described him to you, and said how charming and considerate he was with me. I must admit that at first I was overawed by the magnificence of him, but later he seemed to go out of his way to put me at my ease. And when we dined in that romantic atmosphere, it was lovely! I wondered how I came to be there, with such a handsome gentleman, sitting at his private table in a corner by the big high window which looks out to the gardens and the Corrib; it was like a fairy tale!'

A silence followed, strange and intense, before it was broken by Rochelle, who, as if for something to say, asked about Old Bill. 'Mr. Blake did not object to having him around, then?' she added.

'No, As a matter of fact, they took to one another as soon as they met. Mr. Blake had one of the gardeners show him the cottage, and although it wasn't really ready for immediate occupation, having stood empty for a few weeks, it did have a little furniture in it, so Old Bill took his suitcase and moved in right away.' Jody said no more because she was afraid of embarrassing Rochelle by the reminder that she had intended to turn Old Bill out without anywhere to go.

'From what you've told me of Mr. Blake, I'd not have thought he'd want anyone like Old Bill around. He can scarcely add prestige to the place, just the contrary. And yet he's provided him with a cottage, you say?'

'That's right,' said Jody, ignoring the first two sentences. 'There are quite a number of cottages in the grounds, mainly tucked away behind what was once a deer park, and these cottages house some of the staff, mainly gardeners.'

'Gardeners,' murmured Rochelle to herself. 'I shan't even have a garden at all with my flat.'

'But you're looking forward to having it, surely? Otherwise you'd not have decided to sell this house and buy it.'

Rochelle shrugged and sighed. Her mind was not on the small flat at this moment, but on a beautiful castle standing in three hundred acres of glorious Irish countryside.

'It won't be ready yet awhile,' was all she said about the flat. 'This castle-as I mentioned, I'd love to see it. Shall I come over with you when you go? I could have a week's holiday there.'

'Oh, will you, Rochelle?' eagerly and with fresh hope for a deep bond coming into existence between them. 'I'd love that.'

'Then it's settled.' Rochelle's smile was winning and spontaneous. 'I must go out and buy myself a whole new wardrobe, seeing that I'm to stay in one of the most luxurious and famous hotels in the world.'

***

Undoubtedly Rochelle looked superbly elegant and beautiful, and Jody, who had been so happy previously when dining with Conor Blake, now felt dejected and inadequate, unable to join in the flow of conversation taking place between the two most distinguished-looking people among the hundred or so who were dining late in the candlelit restaurant of the hotel. Jody sighed and toyed with her food, miserably aware that neither of her companions had noticed her lack of appetite… or so she thought, sunk as she was in brooding self-pity because, having had Conor's full attention during her previous two-day visit, she had felt shut out almost from the moment she had introduced the two four days ago. It had seemed to Jody's critical eyes that Rochelle had instantly set out to captivate Conor, just as she always did captivate men. They swarmed about her like drones round the queen bee. But Rochelle had said from the first that she intended being selective.

'Money, looks and position-that's what I want and that's what I intend to get,' she had once said to Jody… and there was no doubt that Conor Blake possessed these three important requirements.

'Jody, you're not eating your fish.' Conor's voice, though gentle, was edged with authority, and Jody reflected on her initial impression that he felt he must take care of her until she was a little older.

'I'm not very hungry.'

Rochelle glanced at her and purred, 'You look rather pale, Jody, darling. Perhaps you ought to go to bed early. Don't you agree, Mr. Blake?'

He seemed concerned, but much to Jody's relief, he was not ready to agree with Rochelle's suggestion. 'Perhaps you'll enjoy the main course better,' he said with a smile. 'Certainly leave that if you don't want it.'

After that Jody's appetite miraculously revived, and as from then on Conor went out of his way to bring her into the conversation, the evening passed quite pleasantly after all.

Later, when Conor had said good night to them both and Jody was in her sitting room, Rochelle knocked and came in, then made herself comfortable, seating herself on the deep, softly cushioned sofa, crossing her elegantly clad legs after bringing up the skirt of her evening dress.

'You're not going to bed yet, are you?' she said, and Jody could not help recalling her earlier suggestion that Jody ought to be in bed.

'Well, I was going… in a minute or two.'

'I wanted to make a suggestion, Jody.'

'Yes?'

'I did say that my flat's not ready, didn't I? It needs things done to it which will take some time, so I thought I'd live here for a few weeks. This suite's large enough for two-'

'It has only the one bed,' cut in Jody hastily.

'Yes, but your bedroom's plenty big enough for two singles, isn't it?' That winning smile appeared, and the big blue eyes were wide and frank and friendly. 'You'll need company, because there's nothing much for you to do here. Conor's explained that he alone manages this hotel, and it's obvious that he won't tolerate any interference from you. So what about my suggestion?' Again that disarming smile, that open friendly stare.

Jody bit her lip, fully aware that, only a few days ago, she would have welcomed Rochelle's suggestion, anxious to have the opportunity of cementing a friendship, but not now. Jody knew for sure that, should Rochelle come to live here, then she, Jody, would very soon have her nose pushed out altogether.

'I don't think you should come here-except for a holiday now and then. You've to see about your removal, too. I expect the mortgage is through by now, so those people will want possession of the house.'

'Of course they will, and that's why I'd like to stay here. I've nowhere to go when I move out of there.'

Nowhere to go… How recently it had been that, when Jody had made a similar statement, Rochelle had declared it was none of her concern.

Firmly Jody said, looking straight at her, 'I'd rather you didn't stay here, Rochelle. I'm sorry, but it wouldn't work. I really don't need company, because I intend to see to such things as the flowers-and that's a big undertaking because there are so many rooms, to say nothing of the arrangements we put on every table in the restaurant.' Jody's eyes were towards the window and the view over the lovely lake with the dark silhouette of the mountains behind, their sharp peaks jutting into the starlit sky. So she did not notice the shades of anger that darkened Rochelle's eyes, or that her teeth had clamped together, bringing her mouth into an ugly line of compression.

'So you don't want me?'

Jody frowned without turning, and heard Rochelle add tightly, 'It's Conor, isn't it? You don't like the idea of his interest in me?'

'His interest?' Something slashed at Jody's heartstrings, and her breath came faster.

'It's obvious that he's attracted to me.' There was a confident, airy manner about Rochelle as she went on. 'He would be delighted for me to stay.'

'He… said so?' A nameless sense of misery assailed Jody, and with a little instinctive gesture she put a hand to her heart-for what reason, she could not understand. 'He said so?' she repeated when Rochelle hesitated.

'Yes, he said so,' answered Rochelle after another small pause. 'He finds me attractive, so naturally he wants me to stay.'

'How long?'

'A few weeks, until my flat is ready.'

Jody looked at her, sitting there as if the suite was hers, and Jody the intruder. A sudden anger flared within Jody, and all her newfound confidence came to the fore. There was dignity in her manner despite the pressure she was under.

'I don't care what my partner wants, Rochelle. It so happens that I don't think I'd like you to be here for any longer than the week you originally planned. So please consider my decision as final.' And with that she walked to the door and opened it. 'I'm tired, Rochelle, so please leave me. I'm sorry about my decision-'

'If you're sorry, then why make it?' gritted Rochelle, furious at the humiliation she was being made to suffer by the girl she had always despised. She was in effect being ordered out of her apartment, and a black venom of hatred rose like a burning vapour inside her.

'What I meant was,' said Jody, marvelling at the cool composure she was able to exhibit, 'that I regret having to make the decision.' With the door in her hand she looked at Rochelle as she rose from the sofa and began to cross the beautiful high-ceilinged room. 'You must admit, you didn't really want me, Rochelle, not until I inherited half of this hotel.'

Rochelle's teeth snapped together. After a hostile pause she swept past Jody with a flurry of organza and lace, then turned in the corridor, her face pale with anger. 'I shall see Conor. The final decision will be his!'

***

It was to transpire that Rochelle did not speak to Conor after all, because when she and Jody were at the breakfast table the following morning, Jody was given the message that Conor had gone to his other hotel in Dublin and would not be back for about a week. Watching Rochelle's face, Jody saw her mouth droop and her eyes lose their lustre.

'You never told me about this other hotel,' was all Rochelle said when the girl bringing the message had moved away.

'I didn't know he owned one. He didn't mention anything to me about it.'

'I suppose there was no need, since it had nothing to do with you.' Jody made no comment; she was surprised to find she could eat a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs garnished with sliced mushrooms and strips of delicious grilled kidney. Rochelle, on the other hand, seemed not to be hungry. 'Another hotel, and in Dublin,' Rochelle was murmuring. 'Conor Blake must be a millionaire several times over. I wonder how many hotels he owns altogether.'

'Aren't you eating anything?' inquired Jody, deliberately ignoring Rochelle's words. 'Your breakfast's getting cold.' Rochelle looked down at her plate, but her interest was not in food, Jody decided. No, it was fixed upon what was running through her mind: the extent of Conor Blake's wealth.

The next day Rochelle received a telephone call from the people who were buying her house. The mortgage had come through and they wanted to take possession as soon as possible after the settlement, which was imminent. So Rochelle left the castle on the day previously arranged, and Jody sincerely hoped she had seen the last of her, the hopes she had cherished of a closer relationship having been crushed by Rochelle's attitude towards her, and even more by her interest in Conor Blake.

Why this interest should trouble her so much, Jody did not know. She did know that she herself was affected by Conor Blake, inexpressibly happy when in his company, feeling safe and cared for-sort of, she mused as, having seen Rochelle into the taxi and dutifully stood on the castle steps to wave good-bye, she made her way across the wide lawns and through delightful formal gardens, past a graceful fountain where the crystal waters flaunted the rainbow colours they had taken from the sun. Behind the ancient deer park she found Old Bill weeding his own small garden and remembered that it was his day off.

'How are you doing, little Jody?' He was pleased to see her and instantly tossed down the trowel he had been using to stir up the soil between two neat rows of young lettuce plants. 'Sit down and I'll make you a cup of tea. How's Rochelle?'

'Gone back home.' Jody sat down on the little rustic seat which Old Bill had made for himself. Four Rhode Island Red hens scratched and clucked in a small netted enclosure not far away. 'You're getting nicely settled, Bill. Where did you get the hens?'

'Bought them from a fanner on the other side of Cong. They're all laying.'

'So you have your own eggs. And soon you'll have your own vegetables.' Her eyes strayed to the plot where the tops of carrots and turnips and onions could just be seen in regimented rows, all strong and likely to grow well. 'But don't you get vegetables given to you?'

'Of course. We all take what we want, but there's nothing like having a few growing outside one's back door.' His lined old face was creased in a smile. He was happy, really content and comfortable for the first time in his life. So long to wait… Jody's soft brown eyes were sad because she felt he had not a great deal of time in which to enjoy this new and interesting life he was now leading. He had a proper job, with excellent wages, and this pretty cottage to live in. 'Do you know, little Jody, that Rochelle never once came over to see me, and she was here for a week, you said?'

'That's right.'

A huskiness in her tone made the old man say, 'Something wrong, young Jody? You don't seem as cheerful as you usually are.' He was at the open door of his cottage, but he stood a moment, waiting for her answer.

'I'm all right,' she assured him.

But he looked at her perceptively and said, 'Rochelle. She's upset you. I did say you shouldn't have had her here, didn't I?'

'Yes, but by then it was too late. She already was here.'

'She persuaded you to let her come.'

'I didn't really need persuading,' Jody had to admit. 'You see, when she was so eager to come with me, I felt there might be some hope for us to be friends-'

'Then you're more naive than I thought,' broke in Old Bill rather crossly. 'You should have known that it was nothing more than curiosity that brought her here. She wanted to see what you've inherited, and I'll bet my last penny she's crazed with envy.' He looked at her and shook his head. 'You had already told her about Mr. Blake?'

'Naturally. She asked me all about the man who was now my partner.'

A sigh escaped him; he was nodding, his pale eyes narrowed and perceptive. 'You shouldn't have told her a single thing, young Jody. That one's bad, looking to her own ends all the time. There's some gossip that she was all over Mr. Blake, even running after him one day when he was walking in the garden, and asking him to show her round. She was trying to flirt with him, Tommy O'Donovan said-he's one of the younger gardeners and he wasn't taken with Rochelle at all. She was very arrogant with him one day, actually telling him he ought not to be weeding in front of the castle when the guests were about. He wasn't weeding, but digging out a bush that had been attacked by rot and was dying. He'd been told to do it by the head gardener, so he was only obeying orders. He said Rochelle acted as if it were she who owned half the place, not you.'

'Rochelle said that to him?' Jody's brown eyes blazed. 'How dare she! I wish I'd known.'

'Well, it's done with now, so not to worry. I'll go and make that tea.'

'Shall I help?'

'Come in and see my new chair. It's winged and very comfortable. I bought it in Cong only yesterday and they delivered it right away. Young Jody, it's great to have a bit of money in my pocket to spend as I want. Thank you,' he added huskily, just as if he had a lump in his throat, and ambled off, as if he wanted to hide his expression from her… or perhaps there was the hint of tears in those pale eyes, she thought, tenderness sweeping over her. Old Bill was still her dearest friend, the one she would come to if ever things went wrong… just as she had come to him today, the moment she had seen Rochelle into the taxi which had taken her away from the castle to the airport and then home.

'Your chair's lovely!' she called from her comfortable place on its soft upholstery. 'You'll be going to sleep in this!'

'You like it, then?'

'It's great!'

'I can get a sofa to match when I've worked another few weeks. I've already put a deposit on it and the man's saving it for me.' Old Bill was rattling crockery and Jody's eyes widened when he came from the kitchen with a tray on which were two bright beakers and matching sugar bowl and cream jug.

'What…?'

'Like 'em?' He was obviously delighted by her surprise. 'Irish pottery. Tommy's wife got them for me when she went into Limerick to see her mother. She said it was an Irish custom to buy a new neighbour a house-warming present, so she bought me this set, which also has two plates and two dessert bowls. I've never had anything like this lovely crockery in my whole life!' Old Bill led the way out to the garden, and Jody followed, the prick of tears behind her eyes.

'You make good tea,' she said absurdly, but she had to say something. They were sitting on the rustic bench and he had drawn up an old milking stool to house the tray.

'I'm going to save for a carpet next,' said Old Bill contentedly. 'I've never had a carpet, as you know. Tommy's wife's going to take me in the car to Limerick, where I can buy one fairly cheaply.'

'Can I buy it, for your birthday?'

'It'll be expensive for you, little Jody.'

She laughed then, a tinkling laugh that sounded like sheep bells in the meadow. 'You seem to forget that I'm rich.'

'Yes, I did for the moment. You used to save your pocket money, didn't you, to buy me birthday and Christmas presents? Well, if you really want to buy the carpet, I'll not say no, because I want to get some material for curtains for my bedroom. Tommy's wife's going to sew them for me.'

'Tommy and his wife sound nice. Where do they live?'

'Just across, in the trees. They've two little ones who come now and then for a chat.'

'That'll be company for you.'

'It is. I like little ones…' His voice trailed off, the sigh issuing from his lips saying far more than words ever could have done.

'Is there anything else you're urgently in need of?' Jody asked before she left. She had wanted to buy him all new furniture for the cottage, but he had preferred to take over what little the previous tenant had left behind.

'I want to buy my own, and make the improvements as I go along,' he had said after apologetically refusing her offer. 'It'll be more fun that way, and give me a great deal of satisfaction.' And because Jody realised he was like a child with a new toy, she had left him to his own devices. 'No, thank you, little Jody, there's nothing I want urgently. Mr. Blake was saying something about a television set he has stored away at the castle, and he's having it looked over to see that it works all right, and then I can have it.'

'You're very happy, aren't you, Bill?' said Jody affectionately.

'Happier than I have ever been before.' He stood up and half-turned from her. 'Come again soon… and if that Rochelle writes and wants to come again, just you tell her she can't!'

'I will,' returned Jody, and meant it.

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    A thrilling reimagining of Shakespeare's Hamlet, The Steep and Thorny Way tells the story of a murder most foul and the mighty power of love and acceptance in a state gone terribly rotten. ?1920s Oregon is not a welcoming place for Hanalee Denney, the daughter of a white woman and an African-American man. She has almost no rights by law, and the Ku Klux Klan breeds fear and hatred in even Hanalee's oldest friendships. Plus, her father, Hank Denney, died a year ago, hit by a drunk-driving teenager. Now her father's killer is out of jail and back in town, and he claims that Hanalee's father wasn't killed by the accident at all but, instead, was poisoned by the doctor who looked after him—who happens to be Hanalee's new stepfather. ?The only way for Hanalee to get the answers she needs is to ask Hank himself, a "haint" wandering the roads at night.
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  • 浅浅动情

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