Across the Lagoon Read Online Free PDF Page A

over her suitcase. There was no sense in unpacking because presumably she was only staying here for the night. An ache of excitement engulfed her when she thought that tomorrow she would be starting out for Italy. To try and curb it a little she made herself re-fold everything in her case, a little more neatly this time.
    This done, she laid her nightgown out, then washed and freshened up in the bathroom. She could think of nothing to do after that to pass the time, but she was too afraid to step out of her room. Everything was so silent. She listened and moved about, slightly on edge. In the end she decided to take the plunge. After all, no one was going to eat her... she hoped.
    It was just her luck to sidle out on to the landing at the precise moment that Gray Barrett chose to stride across the square of hall below her. Obviously engrossed with his thoughts as he came out of a downstairs room, his glance, for some reason, flickered upwards. Irritated at being mildly startled by the sight of the pale apparition standing on the stairs, he looked at his watch and barked, "We'll be dining in a moment. You'd better come down.'
    Carol nodded obediently and whispered soft-footed down the stairs. The big figure had disappeared by the time she reached the chequered hallway. She had no idea where to go from here. There were rooms all around her and at the far end of the space a passageway led deeper into the house.
    Was the dining room along there? she wondered with nervously thudding heart. She was too scared to go and find out. What if she was trespassing in some forbidden area of the house?
    Surrounded by doors, wall furniture, dark pictures and china vases, she hung about uncertainly, sneaking a look into this room and that, without appearing to, for some sign of life. She was beginning to lose hope of eating at all tonight, when a voice from the doorway beside her made her jump almost out of her shoes, as Gray Barrett rasped, 'In here, Miss Lindley. Don't take all day. Mrs Potter's waiting to serve.'
    Colouring foolishly, Carol turned and followed him inside. The d£cor of the room and furnishings were much the same as the rest of the house except that a long oval polished table, complete with several straight- backed chairs, stood facing a line of french windows in the centre of the room. A doorway at the end, apparently connecting with the rooms along the passageway which she had just caught a glimpse of, was open, and much to her relief, bustling through, a crisp white apron fronting her flowered smock, her round cheeks aglow with cooking, was the cheering sight of Emily.
    Her infectious smile was discreetly tucked away behind a suitably wooden expression, but her gaze was not without a sly twinkle as she showed Carol to her place at the end of the table. Gray Barrett was already seated at the far end. Between them lay a sea of polished wood, table mats, and amongst the various silver dishes, a bowl of roses. As this was the first feminine touch she had seen since entering the gloomy house, Carol guessed that the gay centrepiece was Emily's idea.
    The rounded little woman served a meal worthy of her role as temporary housekeeper, hurrying in and out with dishes which must have kept her busy for most of the afternoon. Anxious to please, though obviously nervous at the job, her hands trembled a little as she scooped up the vegetables and poured the wine.
    Carol kept her gaze sympathetically averted, knowing all too well how she felt. Though the master of the house sat paying little attention to what went on beyond his plate, his mere presence was enough to put a strain on the atmosphere.
    But at least Emily could escape when her duties were finished. When the last of the dishes were set out on the table, Carol was left, compelled to sit opposite that rather frightening figure, with no one to give her moral support. She couldn't imagine how she was going to get through the ordeal of eating.
    The french windows were open. Luckily