Green Lightning Part 11

'I could pick you up at your place about seven-thirty. I'd book a table at the Bell in Starforth.'

'Oh, I don't know ...' Helen was doubtful, chewing on her lower lip anxiously as she considered his invitation.

'You can introduce me to your uncle, and I'll a.s.sure him of my best intentions,' Nigel added whimsically, and she expelled her breath uncertainly as she gave the matter her full attention.

'Heath will still be away,' she murmured, swinging her leg across the motorbike. 'I don't know what he would say.'

'It's not your uncle I'm inviting,' Nigel reminded her softly. 'You're not a child, Helen. Surely you can make your own decisions? Either you want to come out with me or you don't-it's as uncomplicated as that.'

She sighed. 'All right,' she said, after another moment's thought. 'Why not?' Heath was always encouraging her to go out with young people of her own age, and Nigel Fox was not more than twenty-three or four.

'Great!' Nigel looked pleased. 'Seven-thirty it is, then. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow,' agreed Helen, feeling a fluttering of excitement inside her. It was the first time she had made a date without Heath's permission, and she liked the feeling of independence it gave her.

It was nearly ten o'clock when she got back to Matlock, and as she had half expected, it was Mrs Gittens who was most concerned about her disap- pearance. 'Wherever have you been?' she exclaimed, as Helen sauntered into the house after leaving the motorcycle propped up by the front door. 'As soon as young Miles confirmed that the Honda had gone, I started to worry, and I do think you could have phoned if you'd known you were going to be this late.'

'I ran out of petrol,' exclaimed Helen, when she could get a word in. 'The bike just gave out on me. I had to walk miles to the nearest garage. And there wasn't a phone in sight.'

'Oh, my child! Mrs Gittens stared at her aghast. 'Dear heaven, Helen, anything could have happened to you! Where were you when you ran out of petrol? How far did you have to push that heavy machine?'

'About four miles-'

'Four miles!' Mrs Gittens gasped.

'It would have been farther,' added Helen reluctantly, 'but I got a lift.'

'A lift? A lift who with? Helen, don't tell me you let some man pick you up!'

Mrs Gittens pressed a hand to her cheek.

'He did pick me up, yes, but-wait!' this as the housekeeper would have intervened again, 'he wasn't a complete stranger. It was Nigel Fox.'

'Nigel Fox?' Mrs Gittens looked blank. 'Nigel Fox? Who's that?'

'Sir Malcolm Fox's son,' explained Helen firmly. 'You know the Foxes- from Carron Hall?'

'Those Foxes.' Mrs Gittens looked doubtful. 'Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure.' Helen gave an exclamation of impatience. 'In any case, you can meet him yourself, if you want to. He's taking me out to dinner tomorrow night. He's calling for me at half past seven.'

Mrs Gittens clasped her hands together. 'You're going out with him?'

'Haven't I just said so?'

'But what do you know about him?'

Helen groaned. 'What do I need to know? He's nice. You'll like him. He's young and good-looking, and he's fun to be with.' She paused, and then when the housekeeper still looked unconvinced, she added: 'You know Heath's always saying I should have friends of my own age. Well, Nigel is my age-or near enough.'

Mrs Gittens shook her head. 'I don't know what Mr Heathcliffe will say,'

she insisted.

'What can he say? He's not here,' exclaimed Helen shortly. 'For goodness'

sake, Mrs Gittens, we're only going to the Bell in Starforth. He's not selling me to some white-slaver!'

Angela reacted quite differently when she heard the news, and the younger girl reflected rather uncharitably that that was probably because she found Helen's presence inhibiting. If this friendship with Nigel Fox developed in the way Angela evidently hoped, it would leave the field clear for her to advance her relationship with Heath.

However, in spite of Helen's determination to be her own mistress and accept this invitation, she found herself in something of a quandary when she went to bed that night. All day she had maintained, to herself and to others, that she wanted to go out with Nigel Fox, but in the unwelcome isolation of her bedroom, she acknowledged that her desire was half- hearted, at best. It wasn't that she didn't like Nigel. She did. He seemed a very presentable young man. It was just that for so long she had avoided this kind of a situation in case Heath got the wrong idea, and even though he had told her he had no use for her affection, she couldn't turn it off just like that.

It was all too easy to remember how Heath had made her feel when he kissed her. None of the boys she had known and been friendly with had ever aroused the feelings in her that Heath did, and she didn't want him to think she had changed her mind. If she started going out with Nigel Fox on a regular basis, Heath might imagine she had stopped loving him, and for all her inexperience, she knew that was unlikely to happen.

Yet wasn't this just what Heath himself wanted? He had told her, brutally enough, that he had didn't care about her in that way, that he regarded her as his niece, and nothing more. Wasn't she wasting her life by imagining he might change his mind, when no amount of pleading had softened his heart?

She was his responsibility, that was what he had said, and the unspoken implication was that she was a responsibility he could do without.

In spite of her misgivings, Helen did enjoy Nigel's company. He called for her, as planned, and met both Angela and Mrs Gittens before they took their departure.

'Your Miss Patterson is quite a stunner, isn't she?' he commented as his elderly M.G. accelerated down the drive. 'A bit cool for my taste,' he added, grimacing at Helen, 'but probably appealing to someone who likes their wine chilled. I don't.'

She smiled. 'You don't have to say that. I don't mind.'

'I mean it.' He was very definite. 'You-you're like a fine burgundy, rich and dark and full-blooded.' He gave her a warm glance. 'There's nothing chilling about you, Helen, believe me!'

It was good to know that Nigel at least did not find Angela more appealing. On the contrary, he did his best throughout the evening to make her feel she was the most attractive girl he had ever met, and Helen flowered visibly. Freed from the restraints placed upon her by Heath's presence, she allowed her own personality to flourish, and several pairs of male eyes sought their table every time her infectious laughter rang out.

'I like your dress,' Nigel said on one occasion, his eyes moving caressingly over her bare shoulders, and she looked down pleasurably at the creamy chiffon. It was one of the items Marion had chosen, and its off-the-shoulder style and dipped waistline were very becoming, accentuating her dark colouring and the golden texture of her tan. Without Marion's intervention, she would have to have worn one of the dresses Angela had chosen, and she knew the other girl's eyes had narrowed when she appeared dressed as she was.

They finished dinner about half past nine, and walked for a while in the garden of the hotel. It was pleasant meandering along the shrub-lined paths that led down to the river, and Helen was quite regretful when it was time for her to leave.

'I have enjoyed myself,' she told Nigel, when he delivered her back to Matlock. 'Thank you for taking me. I haven't had so much fun for ages.'

'Then we must do it again,' he declared, his arm along the back of her seat, his fingers playing lightly with the frilly neckline of her dress. 'How about next Tuesday? Do you fancy seeing a film in Bradford? We could have a Chinese supper afterwards, if you like.'

'Oh ...' Helen moistened her dry lips, 'I'm not sure about that.'

'Why not?' His expression was shadowed in the muted light from the dash.

'You've just said we've had fun together. Why shouldn't we have fun again?'

Helen hesitated. 'Heath will be back by then,' she volunteered awkwardly.

'I'd have to ask him.'

'Okay, so ask him.' Nigel was impatient. 'I don't see how he can object. I'm only inviting you to the movies.'

Helen nodded. 'All right,' she said after a moment, 'I'll see what I can do.

Can I ring you later? When I know for sure.'

'I'll ring you,' said Nigel firmly. 'That way I'll be sure you don't forget.' He paused. 'Goodnight, Helen. You really are terribly sweet.'

His lips brushed hers lightly and then settled there, and the arm which had been along the back of her seat closed about her, bringing her closer.

His lips were firm and warm, not at all like Miles' but not like Heath's either, and although she tried to relax with him, eventually she had to pull away.

'I'd better go in,' she said, rather breathlessly, fumbling for the catch of the door, and Nigel leant across to a.s.sist her.

'Until Tuesday,' he said, his lips touching her cheek, and Helen nodded her head quickly before scrambling out on to the drive.

She encountered Mrs Gittens in the hall, and the housekeeper looked her over with a mixture of disapproval and relief. 'So he brought you back safely,' she remarked, hiding her affection for the girl beneath a brusque inconsequence. 'It's just as well for him. Your uncle was disappointed to learn that you were out.'

'My uncle- Heath!' Helen gazed at Mrs Gittens disbelievingly. 'Is Heath back?' Her eyes darted anxiously towards the stairs. 'I didn't know he was coming home today.'

'He wasn't and he hasn't,' declared Mrs Gittens flatly. 'He rang.' She glanced at the tall grandfather clock that stood at the foot of the stairs.

'About two hours ago.'

'Oh, no!' Helen's spirits drooped abruptly.

'Oh, yes. He wanted to speak to you, but as you were out, he spoke to Miss Patterson instead.'

'What did he want? What did he say?' Helen stared at her anxiously.

'Where is Angela? I'll ask her myself.'

'You won't. She went to bed half an hour ago,' stated the housekeeper quellingly. 'But I shouldn't worry-he wasn't on long. I think he just wanted to a.s.sure himself that everything was all right. He said he expects to be coming home next Friday.'

'Next Friday!' echoed Helen in dismay. 'But he was only going for a week.'

'I can't help that. Something must have happened to delay him,' said Mrs Gittens firmly. 'Now, you'd best get along to bed. I don't want Miss Patterson telling your uncle I'm encouraging you to stay out late.'

'It's not late.' Helen's eyes sought the clock now. 'It's only half past ten.'

'Late enough for a girl of your age,' declared Mrs Gittens tartly. 'And it's just as well Mr Heathcliffe isn't here, if you ask me. Next time you let a young man kiss you in his car, have the foresight to use a comb on your hair before coming into the house!'

Helen remembered this as she stood before her dressing table mirror a few minutes later. Her hair was a little untidy, and her mouth was bare of any lipstick. She looked as if she had been kissed, she reflected, and was amazed to find she suited the condition. Nigel's lovemaking had put colour in her cheeks, and she realised, with a pang, that only the news that Heath had rung had robbed her face of a vivid kind of beauty.

CHAPTER NINE.

Angela was infuriatingly reticent about what Heath had said the next morning.

'I can't remember,' she said, coming down to breakfast when Helen had nearly finished, drinking her coffee slowly with an annoyingly faraway look in her eyes. 'Did you have a nice evening? Was it a good meal? I must admit your young man seemed very presentable.'

'He's not my young man,' retorted Helen shortly, and Angela's narrow brows arched.

'What else would you call him, then?' she countered. 'He's hardly a friend of the family. Heath has never even met him.'

'Is that what he said?' Helen took a calming breath. 'Heath, I mean?'

'Yes.' Angela reached for the coffee pot. 'What a pity you missed his call.'

'Did he ask where I was?' Helen probed, and Angela inclined her head.

'Naturally he wanted to know who you were out with, so I told him.'

Helen sighed. 'Did you explain the predicament I was in when I met Nigel?

Did you tell him the motorbike had broken down?'

'I think he thought you should have checked the petrol tank on the bike before leaving,' essayed Angela smoothly. 'He said it was irresponsible to ride round the country without taking reasonable precautions.'

Helen hunched her shoulders, resting her elbows on the table and cupping her chin in her hands. 'I suppose you agreed with him,' she muttered, and Angela smiled.

'Well, it was rather foolhardy, wasn't it?'

'I forgot,' said Helen wearily. 'I just forgot.'

Angela lifted her slim shoulders. 'Well, perhaps Heath will have forgotten about it by the time he gets home.'

Helen wished she could be so certain, but she kept her thoughts to herself and asked instead: 'Did he say why he was going to be delayed? I thought he was coming home tomorrow.'

'Oh, I'm not sure.' Angela frowned. 'Something to do with a contract not being signed, I believe. In any case, he'll be leaving on Friday, which I a.s.sume means he'll be back in this country on Sat.u.r.day morning.'

'So long?' Helen was overwhelmed by dejection, but Angela looked quite complacent.

'It will give us a little longer to get used to one another,' she remarked.

'That's what Heath wants. It's what he said. Perhaps we ought to devote the time to your appearance. You're still wearing those scruffy jeans you were wearing when we met.'

Helen shrugged. 'They're a different pair,' she declared staunchly. 'And I don't need your help. I can choose my own clothes.'

'Oh, really?' Angela's smile was frosty. 'And did you tell Mrs Marsden what Heath thought of her efforts?'

Helen didn't answer her, resting her head on one hand and drawing figure eights on the tablecloth with her nail, until Angela grew impatient. 'Perhaps your uncle's right,' she exclaimed spitefully. 'Maybe a school far away from Matlock Edge is the only answer.'

Helen's head jerked upward. 'Did Heath say that?'

'It's been on the cards all along, hasn't it?' retorted Angela obliquely.

'When your uncle asked me to come here, he expected you to make an effort to change. But you haven't, have you? And Friday's little escapade has made things worse.'