Dark Mirror. Daphne Clair

that it was one of the younger and more attractive female students.

      ‘I thought this beach was unsafe for swimming?’ he said.

      ‘It’s all right when it’s calm, and provided you know where the rocks are. But the other beach is patrolled and better for visitors. We wouldn’t like to be responsible for anyone getting into trouble in the water.’

      ‘Mmm.’ He was regarding her idly as she dried her hair and face, then blotted the towel over her shoulders and arms. ‘How old were you when you had Tansy?’

      Her head went up. ‘What?’

      He spread his hands. ‘You look too young to be her mother. You must have been a child bride.’

      ‘It’s dark,’ she reminded him. Twilight, anyway. Flippantly she sang a snatch of Gilbert and Sullivan. ‘”She may very well pass for forty-three in the dusk with a light behind her”.’

      He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Are you forty-three?’ he enquired.

      ‘No, I’m not!’ she said, ridiculously outraged. ‘I was nineteen when Tansy was born.’ She wound the towel about her waist and tucked the end in. That kind of flattery, she told herself firmly, was so obvious it was laughable. So what if he sounded perfectly sincere? No doubt it came easily with practice.

      She thrust back her damp hair with one hand, and started towards the cliff path.

      Kyle kept pace with her. ‘How old were you when you got married, then?’

      She cast him a frosty glance. ‘Eighteen, and for the record it was eleven months before Tansy appeared on the scene.’

      ‘I wasn’t counting.’

      She didn’t answer that, and as they reached the path he said, ‘You’re only seven years older than me.’

      ‘Congratulations,’ she said. ‘I thought your subject was history.’

      He laughed again, briefly. ‘Were you always this sassy?’

      Sassy. It sounded American. Had he spent time in the States? ‘It comes with age,’ she said, going ahead of him up the steep path. ‘I suppose your adoring young students wouldn’t dare try to cut you down to size.’

      ‘Most of them don’t adore me,’ he said.

      ‘Just Tansy? Surely she’s not the only one.’

      He was silent until she had breasted the top of the cliff. She stamped out a small surge of disappointment. There was something about sparring with him that had sent a surge of adrenalin through her. She’d almost begun to enjoy herself.

      She’d climbed too fast, and as she stopped at the top of the path to get her breath, he joined her on the coarse, springy buffalo grass. He said, ‘Do you think we could make a pact?’

      Wary again, she said, ‘What kind of pact?’

      ‘You’ve made up your mind about me, as far as your daughter is concerned. Whatever I say you’re going to hold it against me. We’ve agreed not to spoil the summer school for everyone else by airing our—differences in public. But it’s going to be difficult if every time we happen to bump into each other we come back to the subject.’

      ‘Believe me, I’m doing my best not to bump into you, Mr Ranburn.’

      ‘Kyle!’

      Fler shrugged. ‘Kyle.’

      ‘We can’t avoid each other forever,’ he said. ‘And I’m not sure I want to.’

      Stupid, stupid to feel that involuntary lifting of the heart, the swift kick of pleasure. ‘Very prettily put,’ she said sarcastically. ‘I’m sorry I can’t say it’s mutual. What exactly are you suggesting?’

      ‘Nothing that would give you an excuse to slap my face,’ he assured her drily. ‘Not that I think you’d need an excuse, if you got half the chance. I just thought we might agree that while I’m here you and I don’t discuss Tansy at all. In fact, I suggest it’s the only way we’re going to manage to be reasonably civilised with each other for three weeks. Not to mention that I—well, anyway...how about it?’

      He was making a lot of sense. It was true that it wasn’t going to be possible to avoid each other completely. And if the bone of contention was made a taboo subject, it ought to help defuse the situation.

      ‘All right,’ Fler said. ‘I agree.’

      ‘Thank goodness for that.’ He held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation she put hers into it.

      His fingers were strong and warm, his clasp firm but not too tight. And when she hastily withdrew her hand, startled at the pleasurable feel of his, he immediately let her go.

      ‘You’re cold,’ he said. ‘You’d better go in.’

      She didn’t feel cold. Her hand must have felt chilly to him after her swim. Obviously he hadn’t experienced any pleasure from her touch. But she said, ‘Yes, I will.’ And left him standing on the edge of the cliff, looking after her.

      * * *

      Their bargain did make things less strained. True to her promise, Fler was careful not to treat him in any markedly different way from the others. He seemed to find it easy to adopt a casually friendly attitude towards her. And there were times when she realised to her astonishment that she had actually forgotten what he was, what he had done to her only child.

      She would pull herself up with a jerk, then. And quietly, imperceptibly withdraw a little.

      Except perhaps it wasn’t quite imperceptible. Because Kyle gave her a quizzical look or two, and once a silent, chiding shake of the head, his lips pursed in mock censure.

      * * *

      Each session of the summer school ran for two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon. That left ample time for socialising and for those staying at the bay to enjoy the beaches and go boating, windsurfing or surfboarding.

      On Saturday some decided to visit the nearest licensed premises for a meal and to spend the evening, and another group opted for a barbecue on the beach.

      Fler and her staff were invited to join them. After serving dinner at the guest house Fler sent the others off early and stayed behind to finish up. Rae had volunteered to return to Manaaki after going home for her own dinner, and Fler had a short, cooling swim, then walked over the headland in the slowly falling dusk to the bigger bay.