I lit a cigarette and lay back on my bed. Things were beginning to move and, like Boy, I felt scared. I wondered whether I’d have the energy to handle it all. Acheson would be arriving tomorrow. Probably he’d have Henry Fergus with him. Once they knew my intention …
There was a knock at the door and Jean came in. ‘How’s the invalid?’ She had a tray of food and she put it down on the table beside me. ‘Pauline was out, so I did the best I could. Johnnie said you were hungry.’
‘I could eat a horse.’
‘Well, this isn’t horse.’ She smiled, but it was only a movement of her lips. She seemed tensed up about something. ‘Boy and that big Irishman are down in the bar drinking.’
‘Well?’ The steak was good. I didn’t want to talk.
She was over by the window, standing there, Staring at me. ‘It’s all over the town that you’re going to drill a well up in the Kingdom.’
‘That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, but-’ She hesitated. ‘Bruce. You should have made your plans without anybody here knowing what you were up to.’
I looked up from my plate. Her face was pale in the lamplight, the scars on her jaw more noticeable than usual. ‘I haven’t any capital,’ I said. ‘And when you haven’t any capital you can’t plan things in advance.’
‘If Henry Fergus decides to proceed with the dam you’re headed for trouble.’
‘I know that.’
‘And if he doesn’t then the people here will be sore and they’ll get at you somehow. Johnnie wasn’t exactly clever in making an enemy of Peter.’
‘Appeasement is not in his line.’
‘No, but-’ She gave a quick, exasperated sigh and sat down in the chair. ‘Can I have a cigarette, please?’
I tossed her a packet and a box of matches. ‘You don’t seem to realise what you’re up against, any of you. Boy I can understand, and Johnnie. But you’re English. You’ve fought in the war. You know what happens when people get whipped up emotionally. You’re not a fool.’ She blew out a streamer of smoke. ‘It’s as though you didn’t care — about yourself, I mean.’
‘You think I may get hurt?’ I was staring at her, wondering what was behind her concern.
‘You’re putting yourself in a position where a lot of people would be glad if an accident happened to you.’
‘And you think it might?’
‘After last night anything could happen.’ She was leaning forward. ‘What made you do such a crazy thing? You’re now branded as a fool where mountains are concerned.’
‘What are you trying to tell me?’
‘That you’re going about this business so clumsily that I’m afraid…’ She stopped short, and then in a sudden rush of words: ‘How do you think you’re going to get a drilling rig up to the Kingdom? From now on Trevedian will have a guard on the hoist. He won’t even allow your rig to move on the new road. It’s on his property and he’s every right to stop you from trespassing. Even supposing you did get the rig up there, do you think they’d let it rest at that?’ She got to her feet with a quick movement of anger. ‘You can’t fight a man as big as Henry Fergus, and you know it.’
‘I can try,’ I said.
She swung round on me. ‘This isn’t the City of London, Bruce. This is the Canadian West. A hundred years ago there was nothing here — no railways, no roads; the Fraser River was only just being opened up. This isn’t a lawless country but it’s been opened up by big companies and they’ve bulldozed their way through small interests. They’ve had to. Now you come out here from England and start throwing down the gauntlet to a man like Henry Fergus. Henry isn’t his father. He isn’t a pioneer. There’s nothing lovable about him. He’s a financier and as cold as six inches of steel.’ She turned away to the window. ‘You’re starting something that’ll end on a mountain slope somewhere out there.’ She nodded through the black panes of the window. ‘I know this sort of business. I was two years in France with the Maquis till they got me. I know every trick. I know how to make murder look like an accident.’ She dropped her cigarette on to the floor and ground it out with the heel of her shoe. ‘You’ve made it so easy for them. You have an accident. The police come up here to investigate. Whatever I may say and perhaps others, they’ll hear about last night and they’ll shrug their shoulders and say that you were bound to get hurt sooner or later.’
I had finished my steak and I lit a cigarette. ‘What do you suggest I do then?’
She pushed her hand through her hair. ‘Sell out and go back home.’ Her voice had dropped suddenly to little more than a whisper.
‘That wasn’t what you wanted me to do when I first came to see you. You wanted me to fight.’
‘You were a stranger then.’
‘What difference does that make?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She came and stood over me. Her face had a peculiar sadness. This happened to me once before,’ she said in a tired voice. ‘I don’t want it to happen again.’ She suddenly held out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Bruce.’ She had control of her voice now and it was natural, impersonal. ‘I’ll be gone in the morning. I’m taking a trip down to the Coast. It’s time I had a change. I’ve been in Come Lucky too long.’
I looked up at her face. It was suddenly older and there was a withdrawn set to her mouth. ‘You’re running out on me,’ I said.
‘No.’ The word came out with a violence that was unexpected. ‘I never ran out on anybody in my life — or anything.’ Her voice trembled. ‘It’s just that I’m tired. I can’t-’ She stopped there and shrugged her shoulders. ‘If you come out to Vancouver-’ She hesitated and then said, ‘I’ll leave my address with the Garrets.’
‘Would you really like me more if I threw in my hand because the going looked tough?’
Her hands fluttered uncertainly. ‘It isn’t a question of liking. It’s just that I can’t stand-’ She got hold of herself with a quick intake of breath. ‘Goodbye, Bruce.’ Her fingers touched mine. She half-bent towards me, a. sudden tenderness in her eyes. But then she straightened up and turned quickly to the door. She didn’t look round as she went out and I was left with the remains of my meal and a feeling of emptiness.
I went round to see her in the morning, but she had already left, travelling to Keithley with Max Trevedian and Garry Keogh in the supply truck. ‘Did she leave any message?’ I asked Miss Garret.
‘No. Only her address.’ She handed me a sheet of paper and her sharp, beady eyes quizzed me through her lorgnette. ‘Do you know why she left so suddenly, Mr Wetheral?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t.’
‘Most extraordinary. So unlike her to do anything suddenly like that. My sister and I are very worried.’
‘Didn’t she give you any explanation?’ I asked.
‘No. She just said she needed a change and was leaving.’
‘Did she say when she’d be coming back?’
‘No. She hardly spoke at all. She seemed upset.’
‘Ruth,’ her sister’s voice called from the other side of the room. ‘Don’t forget the little box she left for Mr Wetheral.’
‘Of course not,’ Ruth Garret answered a trifle sharply. ‘It’s in my room. I’ll get it for you.’
As she went through the door her sister scurried across the room to me. Her thin, transparent hand caught hold of my arm. ‘You silly boy,’ she said. ‘Why did you let her go?’
‘Why?’ I was a little taken aback. ‘What could I do to stop her?’
‘I wouldn’t know what men do to stop a girl running away from them. I’m an old maid.’ The blue eyes twinkled up at me. And then suddenly they were full of tears. ‘It’s so quiet here without her. I wish she hadn’t gone. She was so warm and — comforting to have around.’ She dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. ‘When you have lived shut away for so long, it is nice to have somebody young in the house. It was so restful.’
‘You’re fond of her, aren’t you?’ I asked.