Wild Melody. Sara CravenЧитать онлайн книгу.
the door closed behind him, as the pillow, hurled with all the force Catriona could muster, thudded against it.
Almost in spite of herself, Catriona found that she liked Sally Fenton on sight. Sally was small and red-headed with delicate mobile features and an impish smile. Her eyes were dancing as she flung open the front door of the flat.
‘Jason, angel!’ She flung herself rapturously at him. ‘You've saved my life. Ever since that idiot Jill went back to Birmingham, I've been desperate.'
‘Careful, Sal.’ Jason disengaged himself and sent a glinting look at Catriona. ‘You'll be giving Miss Muir the wrong idea.'
‘Miss Muir? Oh, surely not. It's Catriona, isn't it, just like in Robert Louis Stevenson,’ Sally said gaily, taking her hands. ‘Please come in and say you like it and that you'll stay for at least a little while. I need the extra rent—not to mention the company.'
‘Don't tell her that,’ Jason admonished, sitting on the edge of the table and lighting a cigarette. ‘She's a Scot and intensely money-conscious.'
‘That's not true,’ Catriona began indignantly, then subsided as Sally exclaimed, ‘Oh, just ignore him. He says the most appalling things about everyone. But we have to forgive him because he's so important—aren't you, darling?’ And she wrinkled her nose at him.
‘Not important to you, at any rate, Sally,’ he said drily. ‘I'll fetch Miss Muir's things from the car.'
‘And we'll make up the other bed,’ Sally said. ‘The bedroom's only tiny, I'm afraid. I hope you haven't got too many clothes.'
Catriona swallowed. ‘I've hardly got any,’ she admitted.
‘Oh.’ Sally swung round and regarded her for a moment. ‘Well, that's super. We can go shopping. Don't look so frightened—you don't have to spend the earth to create a good effect. And it will be no good applying to the agency I go to in jeans,’ she added practically. ‘A trouser suit, perhaps, but those have rather seen better days, haven't they?'
It was impossible to take offence, Catriona thought amusedly, as she helped Sally unload sheets and covers from an old-fashioned blanket box that doubled as a window seat in the little bedroom. In spite of its size, it was gay with cheerful wallpaper and sparkling white paint and there were pretty turquoise curtains at the window.
‘Here's Jason with your stuff,’ said Sally, tucking in a corner of the bedspread. ‘Give him a hand while I empty a couple of drawers for you.'
Catriona went back reluctantly into the living room in time to see Jason depositing her guitar case on the floor beside the table. Her rucksack was there already, and so were a pile of silver dress boxes marked with the name of the store they had visited the day before.
‘I think there's some mistake,’ Catriona said quickly.
‘What have I forgotten?’ He straightened, eyeing her.
Catriona pointed at the boxes. ‘They don't belong to me.'
‘Don't be a fool,’ he said curtly. ‘Of course they're yours. What earthly use could they be to me? And don't say I could give them to one of “my women” or I swear I'll turn you across my knee and give you the hiding you've been asking for since I met you.'
‘I wasn't going to say that,’ she said quietly. ‘But I can't accept these clothes. You must see that. I—I can't afford to pay for them just now either, as you know. I only took them to begin with because I thought that …’ her voice trailed away miserably.
‘You thought Jeremy would pay for them as your husband,’ he finished for her. ‘But as I told you, it's in the family. Of course——’ his voice took on that drawling note she had come to dread—‘if you insist on repaying me in some other way, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement.'
‘Please don't,’ she said with difficulty. ‘I want to thank you for everything, and you don't make it easy.'
‘I don't make it easy for myself either,’ he answered abruptly. He came over and stood looking down at her. ‘Thank me, then,’ he said, smiling faintly.
She lowered her eyes hurriedly to the faded pattern on the carpet. ‘I'm much obliged to you,’ she said eventually.
Jason gave a swift, impatient sigh. ‘Don't be,’ he said brusquely. ‘I'm sure Cinderella would never have said that to Bluebeard. Goodbye, Catriona. Keep in touch.’ And he was gone.
‘Now you see him, now you don't,’ said Sally cheerfully from the doorway. ‘Old Moira will certainly have to go some, if she intends pinning him down for life.'
‘Moira?'
‘Of course you don't know. Stupid of me,’ Sally sat down on a battered-looking armchair and sighed. ‘Moira Dane, I mean. She's playing the lead in the TV play I'm in, and at the moment she's hell-bent on letting us all know it. And now she's got her beady eye on Jason. She's been sticking to him like glue ever since casting.'
‘Does he produce plays as well as his other work?’ Catriona asked.
‘No-o.’ Sally looked at her oddly. ‘Didn't he explain? Well, perhaps not. Anyway, he's in and out of our rehearsals quite a bit for one reason and another, and I'm afraid one of the reasons could be Moira.'
‘I suppose she's very attractive,’ Catriona said.
‘Absolutely gorgeous. She's a redhead like me, but that's about all we have in common. We're supposed to be sisters in the play, so our colouring had to be similar, I suppose,’ Sally said. ‘It's a marvellous chance for me as long as I don't let Moira goad me into walking out or anything daft.'
‘Is she that bad?’ Catriona was sympathetic.
‘She gets us all down at times—except Jason. He doesn't let anyone, especially a woman, get to him to that extent,’ Sally said. ‘But she can be really nasty. I suppose she's the sort who would stand on your foot if she thought you had a corn.’ She got up briskly. ‘Now, I have a rehearsal in about an hour. I'd better show you our splendid kitchen.’ She whisked back a gingham curtain in one corner to reveal a miniature sink and cooker crammed into an alcove. ‘Food in left-hand cupboard, under fridge. Soap, cleaning stuff and everything else in the other one. Any questions?'
‘Is there any room for them?’ Catriona laughed.
‘Not really,’ Sally twinkled back at her. ‘I am glad you're here. Are you going to have a few days’ sightseeing and general enjoyment before you look for a job? I should.'
Catriona looked at her doubtfully. ‘If that's all right.'
‘Of course it is. I'll try and get you a pass to see round the TV centre too. Perhaps you could watch the dress rehearsal for the play. I'm sure Hugo wouldn't mind—he's the producer. I'll mention it to him.'
‘I don't want to be any trouble——’ Catriona began diffidently, and Sally grinned at her.
‘That's not what Jason said about you on the phone this morning. He said you were a permanent thorn in his flesh—a little Scottish thistle.'
‘And he,’ said Catriona clearly, ‘is quite the most arrogant, detestable—creature I've ever met.'
‘That's because you haven't met Moira,’ said Sally.
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