to stay later—something she had to do in Cruban.” Judith went out to the kitchen and started preparing a meal, but tiny apprehensions strayed into her mind like wisps of smoke. Why was Barbara delayed?
Andy came to the door of the kitchen. “Oh, good! You’re home. Robbie and I are starving!”
“Susan dear, would you start laying the table, please?” When the child was out of earshot, Judith spoke casually. “Barbara didn’t come back with me, Andy. I left her after lunch.” She explained briefly her own afternoon outing with Stuart.
“She’s probably stayed to have dinner with friends,” he replied easily.
Judith’s relief lasted throughout the meal and until after she had seen the children to bed. She finished her packing, then rejoined Andy downstairs.
Mairi called in to say goodbye to Judith and when she left, Andy said, “I’ll walk with you as far as the top gate. Barbara’s over on the mainland, so I’ll go down to the ferry and wait for her.”
Alone in the house, except for the two children, Judith walked restlessly from living room to kitchen and back again, unable to settle to anything. When Susan called out for her, she welcomed the opportunity to race upstairs.
“Read me a story, Aunt Judy,” coaxed the child. “I don’t feel a bit sleepy—and tomorrow you won’t be here.”
“All right.” Judith opened the book, glad to do something to take her mind off her growing fears. She continued reading until Susan had fallen asleep.
Half dozing herself, she sat by the bed when sudden barking from Kim aroused her. Andy’s black collie slept in his kennel in the yard.
Judith ran downstairs quickly, but instead of Andy and Barbara, Neil stood there.
“I met Andy, so I took Mairi home,” he explained. “I—I wondered if you might like company until the others come back.”
“Yes. Come in.” She led the way into the living room. “Would you like some coffee?”
He refused and they talked for a while about Kylsaig and other islands, of London theatres and amusements, but Judith was listening with only half her attention. Her ears were on the alert to catch the sound of voices or footsteps outside.
“Will you be coming again to stay with Barbara and Andy?” asked Neil.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered vaguely. “Possibly. Some time.”
“I’m not sure that I want you to come here again.”
She turned quickly to face him. He was leaning forward, and again there was that expression of hostility in his dark eyes.
“You don’t want—why, what have I done?”
“It’s not what you’ve done . . . Judith, I must tell you—”
But she had heard steps on the flagged yard, and Andy came in.
“Barbara hasn’t come back?” The words shot out of him, and almost before Judith had time to shake her head, he went on, “I must take my boat over to Cruban and find out what’s happened. Barbara is never late like this without telling me.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Judith asked.
“Yes, you’d better stay here with the children, but don’t wake them up.”
“Have you telephoned anybody?” Neil asked.
Andy’s face was slightly turned away. “Not yet. Our telephone is out of order, anyway, and I don’t know who would have news.” He swung round towards Judith. “Was she all right when you left her and went off with Stuart?”
She was aware of Neil’s sharp indrawn breath.
“Perfectly all right. Otherwise I should never have gone off without her. I’m sure she intended to come home fairly early.”
Andy looked at his watch. “It’s past eleven now, and anything may have happened. I’d better take a coat for her. She wasn’t wearing one this morning, was she?”
“No. Only a lightweight jacket.” She followed him out to the tiny hall. “Andy, have you thought of telephoning Stuart? Barbara must have been in touch with him about taking me to Port Appin.”
“Her tweed coat doesn’t seem to be here.” Andy was searching among the