Across the Lagoon by Roumelia Lane Read Free Book Online

parked in the space provided and walked over to the inn. Carol gazed about her with lively interest. She noticed the old swinging sign and the big white- painted wagon wheel, from which the inn derived its name, standing under the thatched roof entrance.
    Gray Barrett ushered them into the garden at the side. His gaze searching out the entrance to a small bar across the space he said crisply, 'Find yourself a table.
    I'll have something sent out.'
    He strode off and disappeared into the interior, and Carol, realising that he had left them to it, said brightly, * pointing to a trelliswork section, 'Shall we sit over there? It looks rather nice.'
    Stephanie nodded indifferently and trailed after her. They hadn't been settled at the table long when a man in a white apron came and swung a tray down under their noses. On it were enough wrapped sandwiches to feed a team of roadworkers, and two glasses of milk. Carol had by this time worked up an appreciable appetite. She unwrapped a packet of ham sandwiches with relish, but the glass of milk which had been ordered for her she eyed with a wry look. Gray Barrett had obviously decided she was still at the weaning stage.
    She could see him from where she was sat. He was standing inside the doorway beside the bar, conspicuously more at ease in a room filled with men. His broad back was turned away from the outdoors as though he preferred to forget them for the time being. He spoke desultorily with one or two other men beside the bar.
    She brought her attention back to the table and the tasty sandwich she was munching. She noticed, without appearing to, that Stephanie ate more as a form of duty rather than with any kind of enjoyment. Because Carol felt much more relaxed in the picturesque setting, she was able to smile encouragement, exclaiming chummily as she attacked another sandwich, 'I'm starving! Aren't you?'
    'Not really,' Stephanie shrugged, taking the odd bite at her sandwich. And then politely, to excuse Carol's appetite, she remarked, 'But I expect you've been on the road a long time.'
    The fifteen-year-old finished her glass of milk and rose to gaze absently about her. There was no one else in the enclosure apart from two old ladies in summer hats who stood talking at the gate. As Stephanie wandered off between the tables, touching a hand here and there where she passed, Carol was able to study her at her leisure.
    The younger girl didn't act like someone about to embark on a summer vacation. She still wore her school uniform uncomplainingly. Most girls of her age would have been frantically impatient to fling off the trappings of term time by now, and clamouring to get into something gayer and more individual. Nor did she go skipping and flying around, drinking in the delicious freedom of holiday time as any schoolgirl would have done. But rather, with her dark hair hanging down her straight back and her elfin features quietly composed, she moved with melancholy grace and a seriousness beyond her years. The only flash of youthful vivacity and undisguised happiness that Carol had seen on Stephanie's young face had been in that moment at the school when she had spotted her uncle calling to collect her.
    Thoughtfully Carol finished her meal. She drank the milk, wishing it had been a sharp effervescent thirst- quenching chink. Then feeling pleasantly refreshed, and bearing in mind that it was up to her to make friends with her young charge, she rose and drifted across the grass to join her.
    With Stephanie trailing loosely alongside her Carol made a tour of the leafy enclosure, stopping to gaze at star-shaped clematis spilling over the walls and at green ferns sprouting in corners. Where climbing roses adorned the arches of the trelliswork, she endeavoured to inject a little warmth into their stroll by exclaiming enthusiastically, 'I love roses, don't you? We've got masses of them in our garden just now.'
    Stephanie turned to give her a curious stare and asked, 'Do you have a