just put down her spoon when Adele had appeared.
'I've brought you a comb and a toothbrush,' she announced,
handing over two cellophane-wrapped packets. 'And I suppose
you'll need a nightgown.' She tossed something black and to-
tally diaphanous on to the bed.
'Thank you,' Cally acknowledged woodenly, hiding her dis-
may. 'I'm sorry to put you to all this trouble.'
Adele shrugged. 'It's Nick's house now. He gives the orders.
And being homeless must be ghastly.' She paused. 'If you
leave your clothes outside the door, they'll be laundered ready
for the morning. You can't wear them again like that. They
absolutely reek of smoke.' She perched elegantly on the arm
of the small fireside chair opposite. 'I suppose tomorrow you'll
start looking for somewhere to rent, while all the financial
stuff gets sorted?'
'Yes, I suppose I will,' said Cally, who couldn't look beyond
the next five minutes. There'd be insurance, she thought. But
could they afford to rebuild? Shouldn't they be trying to
downsize instead? And could she ever persuade Grandfather
to agree?
But she didn't want to think about that now. Her eyes were
stinging, her throat was dry, and her head felt as if it had been
split with an axe. Unconsciously, she lifted a tired hand to rub
her forehead.
'Headache my pet?' Adele's tone sparked with malice. 'Well
that's a tried and tested excuse. But I doubt it will cut much
ice with your gallant rescuer.'
Cally looked at her wearily. 'I'm sorry, but I don't think I
understand.'
'No?' Adele gave a light laugh. 'Well, I'm sure it will all be
made clear to you pretty soon. In the meantime, I recommend
a couple of aspirin. You'll find some in the bathroom
cupboard.'
She rose and walked to the door with studied grace, leaving
Cally to stare after her.
She shouldn't waste time worrying over the things Adele said
or did, she told herself as she sought out the bathroom and the
aspirin. The older woman was pure bitch, from her painted
toenails to the top of her expensively coiffured head, and al-
ways would be. She was only sorry she was obliged to share a
roof with her, even for one night.
The tablets swallowed, she ran herself a bath in the big old-
fashioned tub, and sank with a sigh into clean hot water. She'd
used nearly half a bar of lily-scented soap and a handful of
shampoo before she began to feel human again.
She might not be too happy about being a guest at the Hall,
but she was certainly going to be unhappy in luxury, she de-
cided, looking at the deep pile of white fluffy towels awaiting
her. She dried herself quickly, then wrapped a fresh bath sheet
round her body, sarong-style, and covered her damp hair with
a turban.
She trailed back into her room, and paused with a small
gasp—because Nick was there, standing by the bed,
examining Adele's nightdress with a sardonic expression.
'Your choice?' he enquired pleasantly, holding it up, making
her acutely aware how sheer it was.
'Oh, no.' She was cross to find herself stammering slightly,
and self-consciously readjusting her towel. 'I don't wear that
kind of thing. I—I think Lady Tempest meant to be kind.'
'But not necessarily to you,' Nick said softly.
'What do you mean?' She was defensive.
'Don't be naive, sweetheart,' he drawled. 'I imagine she
thought you'd be wearing it for me.' And he watched the be-
traying wave of colour wash her face.
'But don't worry about it,' he added. 'I'll return it to her and try
to find you something more appropriate. And tomorrow you
can go shopping.'
He paused. 'However, what I really came to say is that the fire
is now out, and the firemen have managed to salvage a big tin
container from what's left of the dining room.'
'Oh—Grandfather's strong box!' She seized thankfully on the
shift of focus. "That—that's marvellous. It's got all his private
papers in it, plus our passports, our birth certificates, the
insurance documents. Everything. He'll be so relieved.'
He
'I've brought you a comb and a toothbrush,' she announced,
handing over two cellophane-wrapped packets. 'And I suppose
you'll need a nightgown.' She tossed something black and to-
tally diaphanous on to the bed.
'Thank you,' Cally acknowledged woodenly, hiding her dis-
may. 'I'm sorry to put you to all this trouble.'
Adele shrugged. 'It's Nick's house now. He gives the orders.
And being homeless must be ghastly.' She paused. 'If you
leave your clothes outside the door, they'll be laundered ready
for the morning. You can't wear them again like that. They
absolutely reek of smoke.' She perched elegantly on the arm
of the small fireside chair opposite. 'I suppose tomorrow you'll
start looking for somewhere to rent, while all the financial
stuff gets sorted?'
'Yes, I suppose I will,' said Cally, who couldn't look beyond
the next five minutes. There'd be insurance, she thought. But
could they afford to rebuild? Shouldn't they be trying to
downsize instead? And could she ever persuade Grandfather
to agree?
But she didn't want to think about that now. Her eyes were
stinging, her throat was dry, and her head felt as if it had been
split with an axe. Unconsciously, she lifted a tired hand to rub
her forehead.
'Headache my pet?' Adele's tone sparked with malice. 'Well
that's a tried and tested excuse. But I doubt it will cut much
ice with your gallant rescuer.'
Cally looked at her wearily. 'I'm sorry, but I don't think I
understand.'
'No?' Adele gave a light laugh. 'Well, I'm sure it will all be
made clear to you pretty soon. In the meantime, I recommend
a couple of aspirin. You'll find some in the bathroom
cupboard.'
She rose and walked to the door with studied grace, leaving
Cally to stare after her.
She shouldn't waste time worrying over the things Adele said
or did, she told herself as she sought out the bathroom and the
aspirin. The older woman was pure bitch, from her painted
toenails to the top of her expensively coiffured head, and al-
ways would be. She was only sorry she was obliged to share a
roof with her, even for one night.
The tablets swallowed, she ran herself a bath in the big old-
fashioned tub, and sank with a sigh into clean hot water. She'd
used nearly half a bar of lily-scented soap and a handful of
shampoo before she began to feel human again.
She might not be too happy about being a guest at the Hall,
but she was certainly going to be unhappy in luxury, she de-
cided, looking at the deep pile of white fluffy towels awaiting
her. She dried herself quickly, then wrapped a fresh bath sheet
round her body, sarong-style, and covered her damp hair with
a turban.
She trailed back into her room, and paused with a small
gasp—because Nick was there, standing by the bed,
examining Adele's nightdress with a sardonic expression.
'Your choice?' he enquired pleasantly, holding it up, making
her acutely aware how sheer it was.
'Oh, no.' She was cross to find herself stammering slightly,
and self-consciously readjusting her towel. 'I don't wear that
kind of thing. I—I think Lady Tempest meant to be kind.'
'But not necessarily to you,' Nick said softly.
'What do you mean?' She was defensive.
'Don't be naive, sweetheart,' he drawled. 'I imagine she
thought you'd be wearing it for me.' And he watched the be-
traying wave of colour wash her face.
'But don't worry about it,' he added. 'I'll return it to her and try
to find you something more appropriate. And tomorrow you
can go shopping.'
He paused. 'However, what I really came to say is that the fire
is now out, and the firemen have managed to salvage a big tin
container from what's left of the dining room.'
'Oh—Grandfather's strong box!' She seized thankfully on the
shift of focus. "That—that's marvellous. It's got all his private
papers in it, plus our passports, our birth certificates, the
insurance documents. Everything. He'll be so relieved.'
He
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