Patterson's Island Read online

  doing anything to the car that hadn't been done before !

  The ever cheerful Johnny gave her more confidence, taking time and trouble to explain what this or that lever did, and when she crashed the gears would just grin at her, and make her take her time.

  That Beth had some knowledge owing to her earlier attempts was helpful, and on the first day great strides were made. Her confidence grew, Johnny's did too, and this proved to be their undoing, for disaster struck on the second day.

  Having been lulled into a state of confident belief in her ability to grasp each instruction and carry it out faultlessly, Johnny became a little ambitious on her behalf and set her reversing up a steep slope. This was carried out neatly with Beth managing to keep the car on a steady course. A delighted Johnny suggested they do it just once more, which was unfortunate, for in her eagerness to take the car back down the hill again for the next attempt, Beth forgot to change the gears.

  An amazed Beth and a frantic Johnny found themselves propelled back at what appeared to be around thirty miles an hour. By the time Beth had found the foot brake, it was too late. There was a jerk, then a grinding crunch as they came up against a solid object.

  Beth sat recovering her breath, vaguely aware of the tinkling sound of broken glass coming from the car they had run into. A second later she was gazing into the furious eyes of Gavin Patterson, who looked fit to commit murder—hers, that was. She glanced

  quickly at Johnny, who seemed to have shrunk into his seat, and received the distinct impression that had there been room under the car seat, he would have got there somehow.

  `And what idiot suggested you should get within ten feet of the wheel of a car?' exploded Gavin Patterson, glaring at her.

  Beth took umbrage at her sister being called an idiot, but he couldn't know it was Janice, in all probability he would blame Johnny 'It's not Johnny's fault,' she said hastily, wanting to get that straight for a start.

  `I don't recall saying it was,' he replied through set teeth, and walked back to his car to inspect the damage.

  Beth's eyes followed him, and she saw that the front bumper had a definite lean to the left, and one headlight was smashed in. 'I'll pay for the damage,' she said haughtily.

  Not trusting himself to answer, he got into his car, reversed slightly, and swept past them without affording them another glance.

  Beth looked at Johnny, who seemed to have made a remarkable recovery from the paralysis that had gripped him earlier. He gave her a grin. 'I'm sorry, Johnny,' she said. 'I hope it's not going to get you into any trouble.'

  His confident answer reassured her. 'There'll be no trouble, Miss Beth. Boss mad now, but he'll get over it. You'll see.'

  Beth wished she could believe him, but felt she had run the gauntlet once too often where Gavin

  Patterson's patience was concerned. Any time now he would be making a few enquiries as to how long she intended staying on his island, and whether he could get her to leave while it was still intact. That he saw her as a disaster zone to be guarded against at all costs she was in no doubt. He'd probably take to hoisting a few red flags up in the area she was likely to be visiting, she thought miserably.

  It was quite definitely the end of her driving aspirations; she hadn't the heart to carry on. Nothing, but nothing was going to go right for her in this part of the globe, she was now convinced. With a sigh of resignation she got out of the driving seat and indicated that Johnny should take over. Thinking she was probably suffering from after shock, Johnny willingly complied, remarking cheerfully, 'You'll be all right tomorrow, Miss Beth,' and drove her back to the cottage. '

  Beth hadn't the heart to disillusion him either, not right then. She'd leave it to Janice to break the news that his services as a driving instructor were no longer required. She sighed; he was going to be disappointed, but it couldn't be helped. From now on she would find her subjects within walking distance of the cottage. And that wasn't such a hardship—there were plenty of lovely scenes to be captured, she told herself consolingly. Her lips straightened; from now on the only way she could meet Gavin Patterson was if he sought her out, and the likelihood of that happening was about the same as her chances of becoming his secretary !

  That evening Janice had a date with John and was meeting him straight from work, so Beth had to leave

  her sorry story till later, when she returned. At least she would be able to get her version in first before Janice heard it from her boss, for Beth couldn't see him holding his peace about her latest attack. There was the bill for repairs, for one thing !

  After her evening meal, Beth settled down to some painting; she wanted to start on the harbour scene while it was still fresh in her mind—the peaceful scene, that was, not the subsequent events! Happily immersed in her work, she frowned when she heard a car draw up outside the cottage, and wondered why John had brought Janice back early. Going to the window of the room she was using as a studio, she frowned when her gaze alighted on an estate car, and on closer examination, she saw with a pang of dismay that it was the car she had run into that morning. Her courage nearly failed her at the thought that her arch-enemy had decided to carry the war to her doorstep, and she knew sweet relief when she saw Johnny climb out of the driving seat, and went out to meet him.

  Giving her a cheeky grin, Johnny handed her an envelope. 'From the boss,' he said.

  As she accepted it, Beth thought it was a bill for repairs, and stared back at the damaged car. He was rather laying it on, wasn't he? she thought. There was no need to rub it in, was there?

  She thanked Johnny and prepared to go back in, and was very surprised when with a cheery wave at her, he made his way back to Chartways by foot, leaving the car sitting outside the cottage. A very indignant Beth stalked back into the cottage; Johnny had evidently been given orders to leave the evidence right

  there, for her to check against the repair bill no doubt, she thought furiously as she tore open the envelope and perused its contents.

  It was not a bill, but a letter, and one that took her breath away. With flushed cheeks she re-read the short but concise message: 'You might as well make a good job of it. I see no point in getting repairs done until I can be assured of a safe passage through my grounds. You will no doubt find it easier to manage than Johnny's apology for a car.'

  Underneath was Gavin Patterson's bold signature. Beth flung the letter down in disgust. Not only had he refused to let her pay for the damage, but he made her feel beholden to him.

  Beth was still fuming when Janice got back that evening. She saw the car, of course, and when Beth told her what had happened, showing her the letter Gavin Patterson had sent her, she went off into peals of laughter, saying it was the funniest thing that had happened there for years.

  This time Beth's sense of humour failed to rise to the occasion. 'I'm not driving it, Janice,' she said crossly. `So you can take it back tomorrow.'

  A more sober Janice stared at her. 'Oh, no, I'm not,' she replied firmly. 'I think it's very good of him to take it like that. I know he's got other cars to use; but it's still a nice thought,' adding coaxingly, 'He's right, you know, you will find it easier to drive than Johnny's. You should be grateful.' Beth looked anything but grateful, and seeing this, Janice went on, `And you're not to ask Johnny to take it back either; you'll only get him into trouble.'

  `Trouble?' asked Beth, frowning.

  Janice nodded. 'Yes, trouble. Johnny knows why the car has been left here. If you continue to use his car, he's the one who'll get blamed for not carrying out orders—especially if there's any more trouble,' she added significantly.

  On this statement Beth's lips set ominously. 'That settles it!' she said darkly. 'I'm not learning to drive. I'd more or less made my mind up earlier on this. Now I'm certain; if I can't do it my way, then I'm not doing it at all. For one thing, I'd be terrified of doing any more damage to the wretched car, so let's forget it, shall we? It goes back tomorrow.'

  Janice sighed. 'Between the two of
you,' she muttered, 'I'll put my money on Gavin—he's got an odd way of getting his own way.'

  She left Beth to work that one out, and Beth wondered if Janice had realised what she had said, because if it were true, then at the first given opportunity Beth could expect to find herself on the next flight out !

  Although Janice made one last attempt the following morning, to get Beth to change her mind and accept the use of the car, Beth remained adamant, and Janice had to leave for work, feeling very depressed about the whole situation. It wasn't the only thing that would depress her, thought a guilty Beth, knowing what was in store for her should she be rash enough to voice her ambitions for her future stay on the island.

  When Johnny turned up a little later that morning, all smiles as usual, Beth concluded that Janice had not said anything to him, so it was left to her. 'I'm giving it a miss for a while, Johnny,' she said, and

  handed him a letter she had written to Gavin Patterson which should, she had surmised, let everybody off the hook; that way there could be no comebacks. She had stated that she had lost her nerve, thanked him for the offer of the car, and hoped he would let her have the bill for repairs in due course. 'Would you give this to Mr Patterson, Johnny?' she requested with a smile. 'It explains why you've taken the car back.'

  Johnny's smile faded slowly. 'This car is better than mine, Miss Beth,' he said earnestly. 'I'll be able to teach you better.'

  `It's not that, Johnny,' Beth said hastily. 'I've every confidence in you. It's just that ...' She racked her brains to try and come up with a plausible explanation that would take that injured look off his face.

  `You think Mr Patterson can teach you better?' he asked while she was still floundering.

  Beth stared at him; now where on earth had he got that idea from? 'There's no question of Mr Patterson teaching me,' she replied indignantly. 'No, I've just decided to leave it for a while. I promise you that if I do decide to take it up again, you'll be the one to teach me.'

  Johnny's face brightened at this, but he still looked doubtful, and Beth couldn't think what was troubling him, unless it was taking the car back. She waited. `Mr Patterson asked me how you was getting on,' he said simply. 'Wanted to know if I could teach you, and to let him know if I couldn't.'

  Beth was still puzzled Now why should he want

  to know that?' she demanded.

  Johnny grinned. 'Boss think he could teach you better,' he told the slightly stunned Beth.

  `Well, Mr Patterson's wrong,' she said, when she had got her breath back. It didn't bear thinking about, she told herself quickly. So that was what Janice had meant by getting his own way. Beth wanted to drive, and he had decided to give a helping hand, whether she wanted it or not, she was going to learn to drive ! With a feeling of resignation, she Walked towards the car. 'All right, Johnny, where shall we go today?'

  This time Johnny really grinned!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ANOTHER week passed by, and Beth felt she was going to make the grade as a driver. Her confidence had grown with each day that passed. Having the go-ahead from his boss, Johnny was able to put more time into the task allotted him. With Gavin Patterson waiting in the wings, as it were, to take over should Johnny fail, not only Beth was on her mettle, Johnny was too ! There were no more incidents either, for Johnny was careful to keep the practice runs well away from the house.

  On the third day of the following week Johnny announced her capable of driving herself. There were no tests as such, but some standard of driving was of course necessary when one entered the outskirts of the town, and after four trips to town in order to familiarise her with the sort of traffic she was likely to come across, he pronounced her fit and able to take her maiden run.

  Beth chose the day that Janice would be hostessing an important dinner given by her boss to entertain several business colleagues of his, plus a few of the island's hierarchy to level the numbers. As Janice had taken her evening wear with her when she left that morning, Beth knew she had a completely free day, and meant to make full use of it.

  Feeling that the world was her oyster, she perused

  Mr Fisher's map and selected one of the marked areas as her destination, then studied the route. Soon she was on her way with her easel and stool, canvas and paints stowed in the back of the car, together with one of Mabel's 'siege' food parcels.

  The journey was not a long one, and Beth met no other traffic; she might have been the only human abroad in that part of the world, and the thought lifted her spirits. There would not be a repeat of the harbour fiasco, nor crowds of tourists to contend with. It was one of the reasons she had chosen this particular site, for Mr Fisher had pencilled in a cryptic 'Peaceful. No tourists ! ' Beth smiled as she thought of that remark—it appeared he didn't like folk peering over his shoulder as he worked either !

  To get the view she wanted, she had to station herself on a small hillock overlooking the bay, and when she had settled on the angle she wanted, she set her easel up and started sorting out the paints she needed. A glow of happiness spread through her as she picked up her brush and began the outline of the bluish-mauve hills she could see in the distance.

  Knowing how quickly the light could change, she worked swiftly, trying to catch the delicate hues that were at the moment evading her.

  Time passed, but it ceased to exist for Beth. She was in a world of her own. A hollow feeling in her stomach made her stop for a short while at lunch time, but her eyes scarcely left the picture or the view she was trying to capture. If she could just get that deeper green on that further tree ...

  Mid-afternoon found her still working furiously

  away at the canvas. The subtle changing light spurred her on, but she knew it was a race she couldn't win, as dusk fell suddenly there, but at least she would have more than an outline to work on when she got it back home.

  The sound of lapping water gradually seeped through her consciousness and she glanced down at the beach—or where the beach had been, for the sea had completely invaded the area. She heard the sound again, a soft sort of gurgling sound, that sounded nearer than the bay below her. Puzzled, she looked behind her and found to her consternation she was surrounded by water—on an island within an island !

  Remembering where she had left the car, she gulped, and scrambled over to the side she had left it further down the, hill. Her feet squelched as she walked, reminding her of moor land, and indeed as she peered closer at the ground, glints of water could be seen among the tufted grass.

  Almost frightened to look, she stared down at the car, noting despondently that although it was still there, its wheels were immersed in brown swirling water, and was completely unusable.

  In abject misery Beth stared around her. How long, for goodness' sake, would she be stuck there? She looked back at the car. Was there a chance she could get it out before the water rose higher? Feeling the damp rising through her thin sandals, she knew she couldn't. Even if she managed to get to the car, she doubted if she could move it free from the mud that now encased it; and to be honest, she didn't fancy

  making the effort. Marshland could be tricky; she was safer where she was.

  Another thought struck her at this point that made her blink hastily—was it marshland or swamp? Oh, no! she hadn't parked the car on a swamp, had she? The thought made her go cold; how much, for heaven's sake, was a new car?

  She glanced at her watch, and knew a spurt of surprise that it was close on six-thirty. That meant that it would soon be getting dark.

  For the want of something to do, Beth got the coffee flask out, glad she had left some for later use, and her fingers curled round the mug, absorbing the heat it gave out, not realising until then that a thin cotton shirt and cotton jeans were no proof against a stiff sea breeze.

  However much she tried to forget her position, the swamps were uppermost in her mind, and swamps, with Beth, were connected with crocodiles. As the light dimmed yet further, she told herself stoutly that there would be no such creatures
on the island, although her feverish imagination whispered back, `Why not?'

  It was then that a voice floated up to her from the bay; it sounded resigned. 'So there you are ! '

  Beth had never been so glad to see anyone before in her whole life, even Gavin Patterson. She could not as yet see him, but he could evidently see her. She walked to the edge of the bluff and stared down at the bay. He was there sure enough, complete with boat —she wondered why she hadn't heard the boat's engine.

  Looking up at her, he drawled sardonically, 'I hope the picture was worth it.'

  Beth wasn't too sure about this. There was the car, for one thing, and she felt a guilty pang. He didn't know about that yet!

  `I'm coming up,' he called. 'Here, catch this, there's nowhere to moor it down here.'

  Catching the rope that he threw at her, Beth walked back to her easel. She ought to start packing up. When she told him about the car, he would be in no mood for pleasantries—not that he ever was, she thought miserably, at least not with her.

  Her eyes alighted on her still wet canvas, and she sighed. She had been very pleased with the result, now she wasn't so sure. It was going to be a very expensive picture indeed ! Her eyes blinked as she had a vision of him tucking the picture under his arm, not only getting spattered with paint but ruining the picture in the process. She had to act quickly, for he would be with her at any moment, she was sure.

  As her anxious hands started to grasp the canvas, she found she was hampered by the rope she still held, and looked around for somewhere to moor it. Her eyes alighted on a short tree stump a little to her left, and she dashed over to it. Securing the rope to the stump with a knot she had learnt as a Girl Guide many years ago, never dreaming at that time when it would come in useful, she rushed back to her easel and removed the canvas. By the time Gavin had joined her she had it safely stowed away in a protective cover, and was now putting her paints away.