Man of the Trees Read Online Free PDF

her father. She had not realised how ghastly it could be to live alone, not having anyone to talk to at intervals, no sounding board.
    In the end, she decided she would go to the Club. Ross Hamilton probably wouldn’t be there, anyway, and even if he were, it didn’t matter to her. She would simply ignore him.
    Although the Club dances were informal, the women, generally speaking, liked to dress up a little. Ruth thought she would, for a change. It seemed a long time since she had worn anything except her sweater and jeans. She washed her hair, and after some experimenting decided to do it up. She set it in large rollers and sat under her home dryer and manicured her nails. She then had a leisurely bath and proceeded to pile up her hair and put on her make-up before slipping into a dress she had designed and made herself. The colour was a clear, bright scarlet which suited her dark colouring well, and hung in soft, three-tier folds terminating in points at the front and back. She had painstakingly edged the whole material with a contrasting white narrow border and had ruched the bodice, simply adding shoulder straps which she had tied into small bows at the top, although she had cunningly stitched them underneath as a guard against any joker who might try unfastening them. At her throat she wore a white necklace, adding for good measure a red and white flower made out of the same materials as the dress.
    Donning a pair of white sandals, she surveyed herself in the long mirror.
    ‘Not bad at all,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Though I say it as shouldn’t. If Mr. High-and-mighty Hamilton saw me now he would hardly recognise me!’
    She smiled experimentally, showing white even teeth between her creamy coral lips.
    ‘Mm. Well, that’s something Ross Hamilton is hardly likely to see,’ she decided, replacing the smile with a scowl. ‘But he probably won’t be there, anyway, so what am I talking about?’
    She slipped on a white velvet jacket and drove herself to the Club. Already she could see Gareth’s car in the car park, and he was the first person to greet her as she entered the door. His eyes widened as he took in her appearance.
    ‘Wow! You’re a knock-out, Ruth. I’m going to have my work cut out to keep the wolves at bay tonight.’
    She laughed. ‘What wolves? Apart from yourself, that is?’
    He took her hand. ‘Come and dance. It’s a nice smoochy waltz, and I feel like being smoochy with you.’
    ‘Well, I don’t feel like being smoochy with anyone,’ she told him, taking the sting out of her words with a smile. ‘So don’t get too amorous.’
    The room was fairly full. As they danced to the romantic tune taken from an old, popular musical, Ruth could see many familiar faces, but nowhere could she see the new Head Forester.
    ‘I wonder if Hamilton will show up?’ Gareth said, as though reading her thoughts.
    Ruth shrugged her bare shoulders. ‘I don’t care either one way or the other.’
    Gareth grunted. ‘Well, I think there are quite a few here who do. You should have heard Jill and her friend Lucy at lunchtime.’
    Ruth sighed. ‘Gareth, can’t we talk about something else? Or just dance?’
    ‘Sure. I forgot he’s like a red rag to a bull to you. Although,’ he added, with a grin, ‘the way you’re dressed tonight it could well be the other way around.’
    Ruth did not reply to this. Really, Gareth was not very original at times.
    It was about an hour later that Linda made another of her dramatic entrances, this time closely followed by Ross Hamilton. There was no smile on the man’s granite face—Ruth wondered if he knew how to smile properly, as when he did smile it went no further than a suggestive, faint curve at one side of his mouth. His gaze ranged the room, looking, no doubt for an empty table.
    Linda posed in the doorway, looking—as one of the men at Ruth’s table said—terrific, in a long flowing dress of emerald green, its open neck, loop-buttoned to a high