The Fire of Life by Hilary Wilde

there was Cary, standing so quietly, saying meekly that his mother was quite right and he shouldn't have forgotten what she had asked him to do. A different Cary, an inconsistent Cary in many ways.
    It was pleasant, Rayanne found, to have someone
     
    interested in what you had been doing; someone who would ask questions eagerly and listen to your answers, someone who fussed over you, made sure you had the kind of food you liked, that you were not too tired.
    One day Rayanne found herself alone in the garden with Cary. Mrs Jefferson had murmured something and gone indoors. The amused smirk on Cary's face annoyed Rayanne
    ' Your mother is a darling,' she said, and wished she hadn't, because it sounded so childishly defiant. ' I'm aware of that,' he said coolly.
    Then why don't you do what she asks you to do?' Rayanne sat up in her chair and glared at him. ' It's four days she's been asking you to have that high hedge cut and . .
    Asking me?' Cary sounded amused. You mean ordering me to have it done.'
    Is that why you haven't? Because you can't take orders?' Rayanne felt her control of her anger slipping away. It was such a stupid thing to get angry about, but she 'hated that smug, supercilious smile he was giving. You meekly tell her you'll do a thing, but you've no intention of doing it, have you?'
    None at all,' he agreed, and offered her a cigarette which she refused, then lit one for himself. Why should I?'
    She is your mother.'
    ' That wasn't my fault . .
    Rayanne slid along the seat as she tensed with fury. How dare you say such a horrible thing! If you knew how lucky you are to have such a
     
    wonderful mother. Why do you meekly say you'll do it when you have no intention of doing what she wants done?'
    He smiled. She knows very well I have no intention of doing what I—to quote you—meekly agree to doing. She doesn't expect me to do it.'
    ' Then why does she?'
    He lifted his hand to silence her. It's a game
    we play.' His voice changed, losing its amusement, becoming grave. I think the saddest thing about you, my little Ray, is the fact that you have no conception whatsoever of a true parent-and-child relationship. Mother and I understand one another. You see, my father was a strong authoritative man who laid down the law. Mother was always meek and biddable; she knew Dad wasn't well and mustn't be upset, so she gave way about everything, even against, as she often said, her principles. When he died and we lived together, we came to an undiscussed arrangement. We didn't need words. We understood one another. For the first time in years, Mother could throw her weight around, could boss me, order me about. So she did it, knowing full well that I would do what I thought best and certainly wouldn't do what she said if I didn't agree with her—but I always pretend to agree meekly and she knows I'm pretending, so she can say the most outrageous things . . . you haven't heard anything yet! . . . and we understand perfectly what we're both doing. Do you see?'
    Rayanne stared at him. She did see, yet it was hard to believe. On the other hand, if his mother expected him to do what she said, would she still love
     
    him so much when he deliberately did the opposite? Surely, Rayanne thought, then it makes sense?
    You're very lucky,' she said, moving to stand up and sliding with a bump on to the grass. She must have caught her sandal in something.
    Clumsy! ' he teased as he stood up quickly, bending to take her hands in his and pull her to her feet.
    Her cheeks red, she thanked him.
    My pleasure,' he told her, his eyes amused.
    ' Well . . .' she began, then stopped, for he was still holding both her hands tightly, looking down at her, his eyes thoughtful. Well . .
    Ray,' he said slowly, have you no understanding like that with your mother?'
    She shook her head. I'm afraid we don't . . .
    well, in a way we do, but you see, she's so busy running round looking after Dad and . .
    Your five brothers. How it irks you, doesn't it? It