long, painted nails. The wedding-ring was a broad band, set with a small diamond.
“Charley,” Captain Graham said, “You haven’t got a drink Sasanov glimpsed the look of excessive fondness that he exchanged with his daughter. He was glad of the interruption; it relieved him from Charley Ransom’s questions. He looked across at Davina, finished his drink quickly and stood up.
“I will take the cases upstairs,” he said.
“I’ll show you your room.” Davina’s mother walked in front of them. He heard the father and younger daughter laughing at some private joke as they went inside the house. The stairs were narrow; he followed Davina, carrying the two cases. Mrs. Graham opened a door on the landing.
“This is your room,” she said to him.
“The bathroom is across the passage there. Davina darling, you’re in your old room, of course.” Davina came up to Sasanov.
“I’ll take my case,” she said. He held on to it.
“No. It’s heavy. I’ll carry it for you.” He was surprised by her bedroom. It was a pretty room, with fresh flowers and a narrow bed; there were books and woolly toys, and a collection of small china animals arranged on a shelf. It was a child’s room. It showed no sign that its occupant had ever grown up.
“Thanks,” Davina said. Just leave it on the bed. We’ll be down later,” she said to her mother.
“Don’t hurry, darling. Dinner’s not till 8:15. I’m sure Pavel might like a bath. I’d hurry up before Charley takes all the hot water.”
“Yes,” Davina said.
“She always did, I remember. I’ll knock on your door in about half an hour,” she said to Sasanov. She turned to the bed and opened her suitcase. She dressed very simply; years ago she had recognized that she wasn’t the type who could carry off elaborate clothes, or wear a lot of make-up.
“You look much better without all that stuff on your face,” her father had said, when she began trying to improve her looks.
“Just be natural that’s what suits you.” She had given up without resistance; it was a waste of time trying to compete with a sister who was so beautiful that conversation stopped when she walked into a room. She unpacked her clothes, and hung up the long wool skirt and sweater she intended wearing that night. The dear, familiar room the haven of her childhood. She picked up the shabby tiger, minus an eye, that had been a Christmas present twenty years ago, touched the glass animals one by one, remembering the birthdays and when each one was added. As a child she had loved animals; her ambition as a teenager had been to become a vet. Running away, of course. She understood the motivation now. Seeking a substitute for the dangerous love of human beings. Animals were faithful, and uncritical. There was no risk of rejection in loving horses and dogs, and rabbits, when her sister was claiming everyone’s attention. She opened the window and looked out over the garden. Charley and her father had gone inside; the little group of chairs stood empty on the terrace below. They’d left the tray of drinks behind. Sasanov had been fascinated by her sister. She’d seen it happen so many times. She hardly needed to watch them to know that Charley was exerting her lethal brand of sex-appeal and charm, and, like every other man who met her, the Russian was responding. She left the window open and began to put out her brushes and the few articles of makeup. She let her hair hang loose and brushed it; the wind on Salisbury Plain had tangled it; brushing hurt. She saw her face in the mirror, and the reflection stared back at her with a set mouth and eyes stinging with tears. Tears from smoothing the tangles in her hair. The other kind of tears had been cried out, a long time ago. This time it didn’t hurt her to lose a man to Charley; she could sit back with grim detachment and watch her sister seduce Sasanov because this time it would work in her favour. Charley could soften him up, unravel the
“Charley,” Captain Graham said, “You haven’t got a drink Sasanov glimpsed the look of excessive fondness that he exchanged with his daughter. He was glad of the interruption; it relieved him from Charley Ransom’s questions. He looked across at Davina, finished his drink quickly and stood up.
“I will take the cases upstairs,” he said.
“I’ll show you your room.” Davina’s mother walked in front of them. He heard the father and younger daughter laughing at some private joke as they went inside the house. The stairs were narrow; he followed Davina, carrying the two cases. Mrs. Graham opened a door on the landing.
“This is your room,” she said to him.
“The bathroom is across the passage there. Davina darling, you’re in your old room, of course.” Davina came up to Sasanov.
“I’ll take my case,” she said. He held on to it.
“No. It’s heavy. I’ll carry it for you.” He was surprised by her bedroom. It was a pretty room, with fresh flowers and a narrow bed; there were books and woolly toys, and a collection of small china animals arranged on a shelf. It was a child’s room. It showed no sign that its occupant had ever grown up.
“Thanks,” Davina said. Just leave it on the bed. We’ll be down later,” she said to her mother.
“Don’t hurry, darling. Dinner’s not till 8:15. I’m sure Pavel might like a bath. I’d hurry up before Charley takes all the hot water.”
“Yes,” Davina said.
“She always did, I remember. I’ll knock on your door in about half an hour,” she said to Sasanov. She turned to the bed and opened her suitcase. She dressed very simply; years ago she had recognized that she wasn’t the type who could carry off elaborate clothes, or wear a lot of make-up.
“You look much better without all that stuff on your face,” her father had said, when she began trying to improve her looks.
“Just be natural that’s what suits you.” She had given up without resistance; it was a waste of time trying to compete with a sister who was so beautiful that conversation stopped when she walked into a room. She unpacked her clothes, and hung up the long wool skirt and sweater she intended wearing that night. The dear, familiar room the haven of her childhood. She picked up the shabby tiger, minus an eye, that had been a Christmas present twenty years ago, touched the glass animals one by one, remembering the birthdays and when each one was added. As a child she had loved animals; her ambition as a teenager had been to become a vet. Running away, of course. She understood the motivation now. Seeking a substitute for the dangerous love of human beings. Animals were faithful, and uncritical. There was no risk of rejection in loving horses and dogs, and rabbits, when her sister was claiming everyone’s attention. She opened the window and looked out over the garden. Charley and her father had gone inside; the little group of chairs stood empty on the terrace below. They’d left the tray of drinks behind. Sasanov had been fascinated by her sister. She’d seen it happen so many times. She hardly needed to watch them to know that Charley was exerting her lethal brand of sex-appeal and charm, and, like every other man who met her, the Russian was responding. She left the window open and began to put out her brushes and the few articles of makeup. She let her hair hang loose and brushed it; the wind on Salisbury Plain had tangled it; brushing hurt. She saw her face in the mirror, and the reflection stared back at her with a set mouth and eyes stinging with tears. Tears from smoothing the tangles in her hair. The other kind of tears had been cried out, a long time ago. This time it didn’t hurt her to lose a man to Charley; she could sit back with grim detachment and watch her sister seduce Sasanov because this time it would work in her favour. Charley could soften him up, unravel the
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