Rainbow for Megan Read Free Page B

was going to tell her was going to be painful for him. Her soft heart was touched. 'Please, I'd like to hear about her,' she replied gently. 'And you're not boring me.'
    He gave an odd, twisted smile. 'There are not many people I want to tell,' he said, and gave her a quick considering look. 'You know, Megan, there's a quietness about you and a refreshing frankness not many people possess—or if they did, life has knocked it out of them. I hope that doesn't happen to you. In some ways you remind me of Marie.' He turned away and picked up an old briar pipe and started filling it.
    `In those days things weren't easy. I took odd jobs that gave me plenty of spare time to concentrate on my writing, and Marie kept on working—she had to, or we'd never have survived. My contribution was barely enough to buy the groceries, let alone pay the rent.' He paused while he applied a match to the pipe, then puffed for a second or two and continued. 'At first I was so sure I would be snapped up by the first publisher I approached. It was only a case of finishing the story and sitting back and waiting for the cheques to roll in....' He slowly shook his head. 'Well, I wasn't the first and I won't be the last to think that way.
    `The first rejection somewhat brought me down to earth, the second and subsequently the third utterly
    demoralised me. Throughout this time Marie stood by, never complaining, always soothing and reminding me of the struggle other writers had in first getting their work accepted, and urging me not to give up. That first attempt never was accepted. I scrapped it and began another—only, I might add, after Marie's gentle bullying. Eventually the second one was accepted, but only after several more abortive approaches.'
    He applied another match to the pipe, and after a few more puffs he went on, 'When it did come—success, I mean—it was too late.' He shrugged expressively. 'Oh, I'm not saying I wasn't heartened or untouched by it—just that it was too late to really mean anything to me. As I said, Marie was killed in a car crash. A dog on the loose cut across the road. She swerved to avoid it.'
    Megan looked away quickly but said nothing.
    After a second or so, he said, 'All that time, it was her faith in me I wanted to justify. To buy her the things she'd never had.' There was a wealth of bitterness in his voice. Then just as suddenly, the bitterness left him, and his voice now held a tired note.
    `It took a long time to get adjusted and it was a long time before I wrote another book.' He looked back at the shelf from which Megan had selected the one she wanted. 'Ironically, despair brought out the writing talent. The next book was a bestseller. I never looked back after that. There were too many well-wishers,
    though—at least that was what they called themselves —I had another name for them. Always dropping in.... Oh, you know the sort of thing. Had I lost all overnight, they would have vanished into thin air.' He grimaced wryly. 'Marie and I always kept apart from others. We had each other and it was enough.' He sighed.
    `After a few years, the matchmakers got to work. To my horror I found friends casually introducing single women or widows for my inspection.' He ran a hand over his hair and grinned. 'I think the married men envied my single state and tried to level the score, so like a coward I cut and ran, determined to get a bit and peace and quiet.' He looked at Megan. 'I envy your father, Megan. He's content with solitude, living as it were in the cool shade and out of the limelight. It's that shade I now seek, and with any luck I'll find it.' He gave Megan a conspiratorial look. 'You have my permission to dub me as an unsociable type, a misanthropist if you like. No doubt you'll be quizzed about me.'
    Megan grinned back at him. 'An absolute slavedriver,' she said. 'And I wouldn't stay, only the money's good.'
    He nodded approvingly. 'Excellent,' he smiled,
    know I can rely on you. Now you'd better be off