'Why should you, if it wasn't you?'
'She's my sister.' He prowled up and down, his hands in his pockets, his dark head bent. 'I suppose I felt responsible for what she'd done.' She saw his sombre face from an odd angle and watched him gravely. What was he thinking? There was a silence which lengthened, making her uneasy; she breathed carefully, afraid of breaking the mood. It was so quiet in the room.
'Magda was spoilt too early. She's always been unstable, given to these outbursts. She's possessive and jealous—she was jealous of Annette when they were both small, because my father made rather a pet of Annette, who was born just before Magda. My father wanted a little girl badly, and Annette was pretty and rather shy; even after Magda arrived, Dad went on giving Annette presents now and then, and as Magda grew up she resented that. She once got hold of a big doll Dad had bought for Annette. Magda smashed its head into a wall and stamped on the pieces.'
Sian drew a shocked breath. 'My God! That's crazy…'
Cass frowned. 'No, she isn't crazy—Dad thought she might be sick. He took her to a psychiatrist, but the specialist said she was just very spoilt and self-obsessed. He said it was perfectly normal for a child to be jealous if a parent showed fondness for another child, and it can be very hard if the other child is a sibling, let alone someone who isn't part of the family.'
'I'm sure that's true, but children grow out of it!'
He sighed, his grey eyes intent on her. 'Yes, exactly—but Magda has never learnt discipline, she doesn't hide what she feels, the way most of us learn to do. That's one of the differences between children and adults, isn't it? That when we're small we can't hide our feelings, but when we grow up we cover up all the time.'
He was looking into her eyes and she felt her colour rising, a hot pulse beating in her neck. Was he still talking about Magda, or was he talking on two levels at once? There was a mocking irony in his stare and he was smiling crookedly—or was she imagining that?
'Forcing another car off the road isn't a piece of childish bad behaviour!' Sian protested, hurriedly walking to the window to keep her back to him.
'No.' His voice was hard. 'Don't worry, Magda isn't going to get away with it. Why do you think she confessed just now? We've all made it very clear that she has gone beyond the limit and that she has got to take some treatment again. The trouble is, she's perfectly OK except for this one area, this almost paranoid jealousy.'
'But why me? Why should she be jealous of me?' Sian kept her eyes on the garden; watching the people moving about on the green lawns. The green canvas marquee was up, the stalls were being hung with flags and women were hurrying about with boxes of things to be put out for sale. Large tubs and troughs of summer flowers had been placed here and there, to give the right festive air, and Sian tried to be interested, but was only really aware of Cass behind her.
'She thought you were bringing Annette here!' he said brusquely.
Sian spun, green eyes wide. 'Why should she think that?'
'Nobody had told her that my aunt had invited you, and when she spotted you in the car ahead, for some reason she decided you had Annette with you, you were bringing her back. She said she was afraid the wedding was on again, and so…'
'And you say she isn't crazy?' Sian broke out, and he winced, his eyes a frozen wasteland.
'I've said, she must see a psychiatrist. She does have a problem.'
'You say that far too casually,' Sian said with an incredulous stare. 'Don't you realise that if I'd reported the accident to the police, she could be facing a serious charge today?'
'Of course I realise it!' he said with impatience, catching her eye and looking hurriedly away.
Suspicion hit Sian. She watched him, frowning, her mind working like an overheated engine. 'Is that why you didn't tell me that it wasn't you?'
It was a shot in the dark, but it hit its target. His face tightened, a dark flush rose in his cheeks.
'It was…' she whispered, shaken. He had let her go on believing that it had been him in the white car because he hoped she wouldn't go to the police and inform on him. And that meant only one thing—Cass had been gambling that he meant something to her.
And he won, hadn't he? Sian stood there rigidly, white-faced, hating him. It was humiliating to know that he was so sure of her feelings for him.
'Sian,' he said, catching her arms and bending to kiss her, but she pushed him away.
'Don't you come near me again, not ever!'
'I'm sorry, Sian. I didn't want to hurt you!'
'Sorry?' The word was an insult; her voice shook. 'You don't know the meaning of the word!'
'Do you think I wanted you to believe I could do a thing like that?' He was getting angry, too, his voice vibrating with harsh feeling. 'I tried to tell you the truth, but you wouldn't believe me.'
'You didn't try very hard, though, did you?'
'If you knew anything about me, you would have known I wasn't capable of a thing like that!' He turned icy eyes on her, his mouth curling.
'But you were capable of using what I thought to get your sister off the hook!' she spat out, and saw his eyes flash. 'You could have convinced me if you really tried, but you didn't care what I thought!'