HIGH TIDE AT MIDNIGHT Read Online Free PDF

a foolhardy thing to do when
    she had no idea how far the house might be situated from Penzance. For a
    moment she toyed with the idea of finding somewhere to spend the night in
    Penzance, but she soon dismissed it. Top priority was getting out to
    Trevennon and leaving the pictures there.
    Her hair was hanging round her face in wet streaks by the time she had found
    a newsagent and bought a map of the area, and she was thankful to find an
    open snack bar where she could shelter and study the map in comparative
    comfort. Trevennon itself was not marked, but she soon found Port Vennor
    as she drank her coffee and ate a rather tasteless cheese roll. Spanish Cove
    was marked too, so she knew roughly the direction to aim for.
    As she emerged from the snack bar, a gust of wind caught the door, almost
    wrenching it from her hand, and catching her off balance for a moment.
    Morwenna groaned inwardly. Her mother had told her all about the
    southwesterly gales, but she had not bargained for meeting one as soon as
    she arrived. Walking down to the bus stop, it occurred to her that she wasn't
    sure exactly what she had bargained for. In fact, the more she thought about
    it, the more hare-brained and impulsive her actions seemed. She eased the
    rucksack into a more comfortable position on her shoulder and bent her head
    against the force of the rising wind.
    One thing was certain. She would soon find out if she had been a fool, and
    she found herself hoping with something very like a prayer in her heart that
    Dominic Trevennon would be a kindly and understanding old man who
    would not demand too many stumbling explanations of her arrival,
    unheralded, on his doorstep.
    When she arrived at the bus stop, she found that she was not alone. Another
    girl was waiting, sheltering from the wind in a nearby doorway. As
    Morwenna stopped to put down her case, she gave her a frankly speculative
    look. She had a short, rather dumpy figure which wasn't helped by being
    enveloped in the voluminous folds of a black cape reaching to her ankles.
    Her face was round and friendly, and quite pretty, and she smiled as
    Morwenna put down her case.
    'Miserable day.'
    'Yes.' Morwenna looked around her. 'And it gets dark so quickly at this time
    of the year.'
    'Have you got far to go?'
    'I'm not sure really. I'm trying to get to a house called Trevennon.'
    'Trevennon?' The other looked startled for a moment. 'It's quite a long way.
    You want to ask to be set down at a place called Trevennon Cross.' She was
    silent for a moment, then she said, 'Look—I'm not trying to be rude. But are
    you quite sure that's where you want to go?' * Morwenna was no longer very
    sure of anything, but she lifted her chin with a confidence she was far from
    feeling. 'Of course. I'm looking for a Mr Trevennon—Dominic Trevennon.
    Do you know him?'
    'Not personally.' The other girl's mouth twisted wryly. 'He doesn't exactly
    welcome outsiders on his sacred preserves.'
    Morwenna groaned inwardly. So much for the benevolent old gentleman of
    her hopes, she thought.
    'You make him sound a formidable character,' she said, trying to speak
    lightly.
    'He's a bastard,' the other girl said shortly. 'Behaves like one of the Lords of
    Creation, hanging on to that barn of a house and his piece of crumbling
    coastline as if he was defending one of the last bastions of Cornwall. He
    hates tourists and he doesn't go a bomb on casual callers either, but if he's
    expecting you, it should be all right.'
    Morwenna's heart sank even more deeply. The white- haired grandfatherly
    figment of her imagination was turning into one of the autocrats of all time,
    so what kind of a reception was she going to get?
    'You seem to know a great deal about him,' she commented.
    'Not through choice, I assure you. My brother and I have a small studio
    pottery at St Enna which is pretty near Trevennon. We want to extend it and
    open a small shop, but we were refused planning permission, and Dominic
    Trevennon was behind