miscellaneous coats and macs on the pegs.
Ominous, she thought. This looked as though Barbara had made preparations. “Take mine instead.” Judith held it out to him.
“Anything I can do to help?” Neil asked.
Andy considered for a moment. “Yes, if you could phone Stuart from the ferry callbox, that might help. Just say that Barbara hasn’t arrived and has he any idea where she’s likely to be.”
Neil looked first at Judith, then back to Andy. “How will that help if you’ve gone off to Cruban by the time I get Huntly’s answer? That is, if he knows anything.”
Andy frowned with impatient exasperation. “By the time I’ve got my boat started, you’ll be able to walk along the shore to the boatyard and tell me what he says.” He turned towards Judith. “Sorry about this, Judith, especially when you needed an early night. But there’s no need for you to stay up.”
She smiled reassuringly. “All right,” she agreed, although she had no intention of going to bed, but there was no point in arguing. At least she could have hot coffee and food ready when he and, she hoped, her sister returned.
Neil did not immediately follow Andy. He waited until the other man had gone a little distance. “So you spent the afternoon with Huntly?” Neil said coldly.
“Yes, and I enjoyed it very much.” She spoke deliberately and made no attempt at evasion.
When he remained silent, she added, “Should I have refused?”
He shrugged. “You must please yourself. But I think it pleases you very much to have the local laird taking notice of you.”
“Holiday friendships are meant to be enjoyed—while they last,” she said decisively. “After that—”
“And afterwards, I suppose, you boast to your friends of your conquests?”
“When I come on holiday, I don’t set out to conquer. Hadn’t you better go down to the ferry and telephone, or Andy will have arrived in Cruban?”
“Yes, it’s a good opportunity to talk to Huntly.” He was halfway out of the door, then turned. “Maybe it’s as well—for your sake most of all—that your holiday is nearly over.” Then he was gone.
In the silence she pondered over his strange attitude. Why on earth should he be so resentful of everything she did? Surely he wasn’t still harbouring a grievance because of that first meeting when he had, perhaps unintentionally, misdirected her?
Judith crossed the yard and called Kim, the collie indoors for company.
The hours dragged by. When Judith went out to the kitchen to make tea and toast, she saw that daylight had almost come, although at this time of year the northern night was scarcely dark.
She set down the tray in the living room and went out to the front door to look along the path from the ferry.
Neil was approaching from the opposite direction.
“Any news?” he asked.
Judith shook her head. “What did Stuart say?”
“As much in the dark as anyone else—so he says. I phoned Graham Mundon as well, but—”
“Why? How would he know anything? We left there together, Barbara and I.”
Neil gave her a puzzling look. “I thought he might know something, but he confirmed that you and Barbara lunched at his hotel and he hadn’t seen her since.”
“Come in and have some tea. I’ve just made it.”
They sat together for some time, sleepily silent, until the sound of Andy’s voice roused them.
Judith leapt up and raced to the door. Andy would not be talking to himself, so Barbara must be with him. But Stuart came in, followed by Andy.
“Barbara?” queried Judith.
“No news. Nothing.” Andy sank into the nearest chair, and she hurriedly poured tea and put the cup into his shaking hand.
Stuart glared at Neil. “You’re an early visitor, Raeburn.”
“Or perhaps a late one,” Neil snapped back.
Judith noticed the glances between the two men and then received Stuart’s cool gaze at herself.
“This is no time to be discussing visiting hours,” she muttered in a furious, low tone.