She shook her head. 'This is my first visit to Glenmore, but never mind that now. What happened back there on the mountain? Where did you get to?'
'I climbed the north face. The general idea was that I should be waiting at the summit cairn when you arrived.'
'Ah, I see now,' she said. 'You were caught in the mist.'
'For over an hour, while you kept on walking presumably?'
She nodded. 'And here we are. I was hoping you would get here eventually. I turned my ankle climbing the gate back there on the track.'
'Sorry I was delayed. I saw your light at the same time as our friend turned up.'
She smiled and shook her head. 'Poor Fergus.'
'Was that his name?'
'So he informed me. Fergus Munro. He also told me that I was trespassing and that his employer wouldn't like it-although he followed this with a suggestion that perhaps he didn't need to know.'
'But according to the notice on that gate back there, this is the Glenmore estate.'
'Which is owned by my step-father, Max Donner, the financier,' she said calmly. 'Perhaps you've heard of him?'
'I have indeed. But this raises an interesting situation. Friend Fergus is very probably hot-footing it to Glenmore House at this very moment with his tale of woe. I have a feeling we may expect company in the near future.'
'I sincerely hope so. I haven't the slightest intention of walking any further.'
'I wonder what your step-father will say to the unfortunate Fergus when he discovers who the mystery woman is?'
'I can't wait to see.'
Chavasse took off his raincoat and squatted in front of the fire, hands spread to its warmth and she leaned back in the chair, arms folded beneath her breasts, hair gleaming in the soft lamplight.
'How's your ankle?' he said.
'It could be worse.'
'Shall I take a look at it for you?'
'If you like.'
She peeled off her stocking with a complete lack of embarrassment, and presented a delicately arched foot for his inspection.
The sweep of that long, lovely leg, the curve of the thigh beneath the skirt took the breath out of him. He swallowed hard and glancing up saw the barely suppressed smile.
'Damn you, Asta Svensson,' he said with some passion. 'Play fair or you may get more than you bargained for.'
'Is that a promise?' she replied, the smile breaking through to the surface.
'I should put you over my knee. An attractive proposition, come to think of it.'
'Better and better. We Swedes are reputed to be terribly over-sexed, you know.'
He glanced up sharply and for the moment, her self-assurance seemed to desert her and she became simply a young, nineteen-year-old girl with a rather boyish charm. She smiled shyly, looking down at the hands, folded in her lap and in that one brief moment of revelation he knew she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.
He tilted her chin and said wryly: 'You're very lovely, Asta Svensson. So lovely that I think I'd better get back to your foot without further delay.'
Her smile seemed to deepen, to become luminous and she no longer looked shy, but completely sure of herself. She leaned back in the old chair and raised her foot again and Chavasse looked at it, aware of her eyes on him.
There was a faint swelling above the ankle bone beneath a jagged scar. He probed it gently and nodded. 'I don't think it's much. How did you get the scar?'
'Skiing. There was a time when I thought I might make the Olympics.'
'Too bad.' He stood up and took a spare handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tweed jacket. 'I don't think it's much, but a cold-water bandage won't do any harm. I'll take the lamp if I may.'
He left her there in the firelight, went into the kitchen and soaked the handkerchief under the cold tap. When he returned, she was lying back in the chair, eyes closed. The moment he touched her foot, she opened them again.
'Tired?' Chavasse said as he bandaged the foot expertly.
She nodded. 'As the ticket collector said, it was a fair step.'
She mimicked him superbly and Chavasse chuckled. 'It was that and more. Have you had anything to eat?' She shook her head and he produced the remaining half pound of chocolate from his pocket and dropped it into her lap. 'Greater love hath no man. Start on that and I'll see what there is in the kitchen.'
He was back within a couple of minutes. 'Nothing doing, I'm afraid. All the cupboards are locked and the calor gas cylinders are empty, so we couldn't cook anything even if we wanted to.'
'Never mind, the chocolate is fine.' Already half was gone and she held the bar out, a guilty look on her face. 'Have some.'
'That's all right,' he said. 'I had a whole bar to myself back there on the mountain. I'll make do with a cigarette.'
'I must say you seem extraordinarily self-sufficient,' she said. 'What do you do for a living?'
'I'm Lecturer in French Literature at the University of Essex-or at least I will be when the new term starts in October. Something of a return to the fold really.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Oh, I was a university lecturer way back when I first started out, but it all seemed too restricting, so I joined the overseas Civil Service.'
'What went wrong?'
'Nothing really, except that the Empire diminished year by year and they kept moving me on. Kenya, Cyprus, Northern Rhodesia. The future seemed uncertain to say the least, so I decided to get out while the going was good.'
'Back to a calmer more ordered world.'
'Something like that. After all, one doesn't need a great deal. You learn that as you get older. Take this lodge for example. A man could live here quite comfortably.'
'But not alone, surely?'
'All right then, we'll admit Eve into his paradise.'
'But what would they live on in these barren hills?'
'There's fish in the stream, deer in the forest.' He laughed. 'Aren't you familiar with that old Italian proverb? One may live well on bread and kisses?'
'Or chocolate?' she said solemnly, holding up what was left of the bar and they both laughed.
He opened the door and looked out. It was a night to thank God for, the whole earth fresh after the heat of the day and when a bank of cloud rolled away from the moon the loch and the mountains beyond were bathed in a hard white light. The sky was incredibly beautiful with stars strung away to the horizon where the mountains lifted to meet them.
He had not heard her move and yet she spoke at his shoulder. 'We could be the only two people left on earth.'
He turned, aware of her warmth, her closeness, of the eyes shining through the half-darkness and shook his head gently.
'Not for long, Asta Svensson. Not for long. Listen.'
She moved out of the porch and stood there looking down the glen to where the sounds echoed faintly between the hills. 'What is it?'
'A motor vehicle of some description-perhaps two. They'll be here soon.'
She turned and when she moved back inside, her face was quite calm. 'Then let us be ready for them.'
She limped to the fireplace and settled herself into the chair and Chavasse stayed in the porch. A cloud
