Harbour House

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXIX, Issue 13309, 8 April 1941, Page 3

Harbour House

INSTALMENT XVII. Mrs Carr-Ramsden, the bank manor>« wife, was leisurely exercising ager s wi*. . l!er fat Pekinese dog. Lacy managed to raise his hat to her, but she wa s suddenly much occupied with disentangling Fifi’s lead. At the corner by the weatherbeaten hotel, the black horse, Marcus, catching the bit in his teeth, sidled, for sheer lightheartedness, u p on to the pavement, and almost brushed against a man getting into his car. “Hullo, Lacy ...” “Hullo, Malcolm,” Lacy said briefly Malcolm Bridgeman was a giant w ho had once been physically splendid, a fair-haired Viking run to fat. His stride was ponderous, his powerful lines sagged, his great shoulders we re thickened and heavy. There we re leaden pouches under his bloodshot and hostile blue eyes. He still carried his head well, and his fair hair gleamed burnished in the sunshine. Lacy flicked the black horse with his switch, and he plunged savagely back into the roadway. Malcolm Bridgeman got into his car, slammed the door, and drove away. Lacy rode on down past the wharf, jumped Marcus over the low wall that guarded the foreshore, and rode on along the beach. A man mending nets called a greeting, to him, and, from the bow of a boat where he was cleaning flsh, a Maori in a torn bathing-suit held up a writhing snapper. “Good haul this morning. Doctor!” “Keep a couple for me, then!” Lacy called good-naturbdly. “It’s the only way I’ll ever get any money out of you, you scoundrel!” His mates considered this amusing and shouted. “If you’re going across to the Point,” someone shouted, “you’ll have to swim for it. Tide’s falling mighty slow this morning.’-’ The tide was falling slowly. Traces of the storm of the night before showed in foam lines and broken branches tossed on the wet streaked sand. For all that the harbour was calm as a mill pond, deep water channels showing deeply, clearly blue. Lacy rode into the water, kicking his feet free of the stirrups. It was past noon when Lacy reached home again.® Lin was just finishing his lunch, and he called Lacy into the kitchen. “Lacy, here a minute . . .” Lacy came in, throwing down his switch, sinking into a chair. “Where’s Janice?” “She’s left a message to eay that she’s gone to lunch with Rowena.” Lacy nodded. “Well?” he said, after a minute. Lin placed the pepper-pot beside the salt-cellar, and flanked them with the butter-dish. “You may as well make up your mind that you’re going to be mad in a minute.” "Well, that’s no new thing,” Lacy said, with a quick, keen glance. "Fire away.” Lin seemed to be in no haste to begin. He took out his pipe, and began to fill it. “What the devil’s the matter?” said Lacy. “It’s about Janice. Do you not

By JOYCE WEST

really realise that it has put her in a most awkward situation?” ‘What has?” said Lacy. “Your . . . running away.” The dangerous red leaped to Lacy’s dark face. He got half on to his feet. “Look here, Lin ...” “There’s no good firing up,” Lin said. “Look at it yourself. What would you think of a couple, just married, and the man clearing out the very day after his wedding. Wouldn t you think there was something fishy about the whole business?” “It’s nobody’s business but mine!” Lacy flashed. He was beginning to be white now. So you say,” Lin said, packing his pipe carefully. “But, unfortunately, other poeple are making it their business.” ‘Curse other people!” “That’s all very well,” Lin agreed, “But you can’t exactly damn Janice into the bargain, and, unless you do something about it in the very near future, she is going to be very definitely not known in Shore Town. “I think you’re talking utter rot,” Lacy said repressedly. “What grounds have you for making such an unwarrantable statement?” Lin raised his brows expressively. “Do you realise that not one person—bar Rowena —has been near the place? Granted it’s a little early for formal calling, but Shore Town folk don’t usually stand on ceremony where a new bride’s concerned. No, my dear Lacy, the elite have found it altogether too awkward to have anything to d.o with a bride of a wfeek’s standing whose husband is most definitely not in evidence.” “It’s disgusting . . .” said Lacy, getting up,, and thrusting back his chair; “somebody’s at the bottom of this. . j .” “I imagine that Hunt Lambert is not exactly pouring oil on the troubled waters,” Lin said drily. “You could hardly expect him to.” Lacy made an adrupt movement. “I can see that I’ve behaved like a fool. And Janice has made matters no better by shutting herself inside the house like a nun. I’m not a superstitious man, Lin, or I might really believe in the curse of Harbour House.” Lin laughed a little. “And now . . .” he said. “And now . . .” said Lacy, “remains to reinstate Janice and myself in the good of ’Shore Town. May the devil fly away with all gossiping townships!” “Perhaps if you went about a bit together . . .” Lin suggested, “or perhaps Rowena would give an evening or something . . .” “And we appear as the centrepiece—the newly-married and devoted couple!” agreed Lacy airily. “Gaze into one another’s eyes, and say ‘My love’ and ‘My dear!’ A brainwave, Lin. Thank you very much!” ''He got up, laughing, and went out, and slammed the door. (To be continued)