Startled, she turned her head, saw her younger brother first, then looked beyond him to Protheroe. 'God, you gave me a shock,' she said accusingly as they both drew close. 'Hello, Fergus.' She nodded a welcome. 'Have you two met? Fergus Kingsley, my brother-Dr. Alan Protheroe, my existentialist shrink. You're a very bad liar,' she told Alan. 'You've been watching me for the last ten minutes, so why the sudden panic?'
He shook Fergus by the hand. 'Because I take my responsibilities seriously, Jinx, and for all I knew, your brother was a stranger to you.' He folded his arms across his chest. 'As a matter of interest,' he said without hostility, 'which way did you come in? It's a rule of the Nightingale Clinic that visitors seek permission at the front desk before approaching our guests. It's a simple courtesy but an important one, as I'm sure you'll agree.'
Fergus reddened under the older man's stare. 'I'm sorry.' He looked very young. 'I didn't realize.' He gestured behind him to the other side of the lawn. 'I parked by the gate at the bottom and walked up.' He looked sullenly towards Jinx. 'Actually, I was going to do the thing properly; then I saw you under the tree.'
Jinx removed her dark glasses and squinted up at Protheroe with one blackened eye closed against the evening sunlight. 'I don't recall my consent being sought before. It's a perverse rule that operates at the whim of the director.'
He smiled affably. 'But a rule, nevertheless. I shall have to make sure it's properly enforced in future.' He nodded to them both. 'Enjoy your visit. If you want some tea, your brother can order it from the desk and have it sent out.' He raised a hand in farewell, then walked briskly back to his office.
Jinx stared after him. 'I think he's madder than some of his patients,' she said.
Fergus followed her gaze. 'He fancies you,' he said bluntly.
She gave a splutter of laughter. 'Don't be an oaf! The man's not blind, and they do let me look in a mirror from time to time.' She sobered suddenly and her eyes narrowed. 'Actually, I hate the way he's always watching me. It makes me feel like a prisoner.'
'Do you like him?'
'Yes.'
'Is he married?'
'He's a widower.' She frowned. 'Why so interested?'
He shrugged. 'You know what they say about psychiatrists and their patients. I was just wondering if he was going to be the next one in the Kingsley marriage stakes.'
'Do me a favor, Fergus,' she said crossly. 'I don't intend to stay here long enough to develop anything more than a passing acquaintanceship with the man.'
He leaned against the tree trunk. 'So you're planning to come home.'
'
'Is that supposed to be a dig at me?'
'No,' she said mildly. 'Oddly enough, Fergus, I am more interested in my own problems at the moment than I am in yours.' She studied his sullen face, which was so like Miles's to look at but which lacked the charm that his older brother could switch on and off at will. 'Did you have a reason for coming?'
He scuffed the grass with his foot. 'I wondered how you were, that's all. Miles said you weren't too hot when he came, said you passed out when he was talking to you.'
'It's just tiredness.' She replaced her dark glasses so that he couldn't read the expression in her eyes. 'Miles told me Adam made you cry. Is that true?'
He reddened again. 'Miles is a bastard. He swore he wouldn't tell anyone. You know, sometimes I don't know who I hate more, him or Dad. They're such shits, both of them. I wish they'd drop dead. Everything would be okay if they were both dead.'
It was the same childish cry she'd heard from him since he was five years old. Only the register of his voice was different. 'Presumably Adam belted you again. So what did you do to make him angry?'
'It wasn't me who made him angry. It's you being in this place.' He slid his back down the tree trunk to squat at the foot of it. 'He just went overboard and started screaming and yelling at everyone. Miles cowered in the corner, as per bloody usual, and Mum sat and blubbered. Well, you know what it's like. You don't need me to tell you.'
'But you must have done something,' she said. 'He might be angry about me and'-she gestured towards the building-'all this, but he's never belted you without good reason. So what did you do?'
'I borrowed twenty pounds,' he muttered. 'You'd think it was a hanging offense the way he carried on.'
She sighed. 'Who from this time?'
'Does it matter?' he said angrily. 'You're as bad as bloody Dad. I was going to pay it back.' His mouth thinned unattractively. 'What nobody ever seems to recognize is that I wouldn't have to borrow money if Dad treated me like a human being instead of a slave. It's really degrading having to admit you're the son of Adam Kingsley when everyone knows you're earning peanuts. I keep telling him, if he'd only pay me a decent whack, I wouldn't have to resort to borrowing. I'm the boss's son. That should stand for something. Why do Miles and I have to start at the bottom?'
'You know,' she said with sudden impatience, 'if you called a spade a spade occasionally, you'd be halfway to earning Adam's respect. It's the lies that you and Miles tell that really fire him up. Can't you see that? You're a thief'-she fixed him with a scornful stare-'and everybody knows it, so why bother with this garbage about borrowing? Who did you steal from this time?'
'Jenkins,' he muttered, 'but I was going to pay him back.'
'Then I'm not surprised Adam belted you,' she said tiredly. 'I wouldn't enjoy having to apologize to my gardener after my twenty-four-year-old son had stolen money from him. I suppose you thought Jenkins wouldn't have the nerve to say anything and you'd get away with it. That's almost worse than stealing from him in the first place.'
'Oh, leave it out, Jinxy. I've had all this from Dad, and you're both wrong, anyway. I really was going to pay him
