Monday morning. On Monday morning she was due to attend a conference, something she had been invited to months ago. She had no real desire to go, but she had made the commitment and she could hardly expect Paul to go in her place.
There was a final message from Paul confirming that he would call round in the evening as arranged to bring her up to date with everything that had been happening with the company during her absence.
The tape ran on into empty silence, and, although she played it back several times, nowhere on it was there the message she had been desperately hoping for, nowhere on it the sound of Daniel's voice. And yet why should he ring her? He was probably only too relieved that she had gone, thus saving them both the embarrassment of meeting again. And after all wasn't that why she had left in the first place? She had known really all along that he wouldn't get in touch with her of course. Of course she had. She had no idea why she had kept on playing that tape. It was obvious that he would not have tried to get in touch with her. Why should he?
Before leaving Brighton, her mother had taken her on a supermarket shopping trip, perhaps sensing that left to her own devices food was something she simply would not have bothered to buy. Had she been carrying Daniel's child, then she might have felt it necessary to ensure that she consumed a healthy diet, but now... It occurred to her that she was behaving as emotionally as a child refusing to eat in the hope that its behaviour would get it the attention it craved, and she told herself firmly that such behaviour was pointless and could only hurt herself.
Even so, she had no appetite for food, although she forced herself to prepare a simple supper dish shortly before Paul was due.
He arrived exactly on time, his warm smile changing to a slight frown as she let him in. 'You've lost weight,' he accused as he followed her into her small sittingroom. 'Are you sure you're not rushing back too soon? Stress can be a tricky thing.'
'Yes, especially when it's exacerbated by food poisoning,' Angelica agreed drily, explaining briefly to him what had happened, but this time omitting all mention of Daniel, just to prove to herself that she was capable of behaving like an adult.
After he had commiserated with her, Paul informed her that things had run reasonably smoothly in her absence. From the papers he laid in front of her, Angelica suspected that this was something of a tactful understatement, since it was obvious to her that he had run the company with skill and confidence, so much so that, had she discovered she was pregnant, she would have had little hesitation in appointing him to her own place as head of the firm and taking a less prominent role.
As she sipped her coffee, she wondered if perhaps she ought not to consider doing this anyway. He deserved both the promotion and the responsibility, and if she didn't offer it to him he might be tempted to go elsewhere. She made a mental note to discuss her thoughts with Tom, and when Paul asked her later if she was eager to get back into the driving seat, she made a small moue and said, consideringly, 'I'm not sure,' pleased to see the way his interest sharpened, although he was discreet in trying not to appear too curious. 'I've got this conference next week, of course.'
'Yes,' he agreed. 'I would offer to stand in for you since you don't seem to be fully recovered, but I'm off on holiday on Sunday, and I suspect Jean and the kids will disown me if I make any alteration to our arrangements .'
'And I wouldn't blame them,' Angelica told him firmly. Her own experiences over the last few weeks had shown her how important family ties could be, and how justified many wives were in complaining that their husbands devoted more time to their work than their homes and families. She was certainly not going to encourage any of her employees to become workaholics.
'Oh, by the way,' Paul told her when she was showing him the door, 'there've been a couple of personal calls for you. A man-he wouldn't leave his name, nor any message. He asked if we knew where he could get in touch with you. I knew you were at your mother's but it seems our mutual secretary for reasons of her own took it upon herself to refuse to give him that kind of information.'
Deanna had probably thought her caller was Giles, Angelica realised. Her secretary had been privy to certain details of her relationship with Giles-how could she not have been?-and Angelica suspected that her refusal to give away her mother's telephone number had sprung from a desire to protect her. But what if it had been Daniel trying to contact her? Her heart lurched, her pulse-rate rocketing.
'He-this man-didn't leave a name, then?' she enquired huskily.
Paul was frowning as he looked at her. 'Not as far as I know. Deanna only mentioned that he'd been on a couple of times because I happened to walk into her office while he was on the line .. .'
It couldn't have been Daniel; of course it couldn't. And even if it had, he had probably only been ringing out of good conscience, in the same spirit in which he had taken care of her, and in the same spirit in which he had probably made love to her, out of concern for a fellow human being, out of compassion for her as a woman, but not out of love, and certainly not out of the kind of all-consuming, all-encompassing love which was all that her aching heart would allow her to accept from him.
The way she felt about him, it had to be all or nothing. Anything in between would destroy her. Her own love was too intense, too strong to be satisfied with mere affection and friendship. It was a hungry, demanding love, a love that needed to be equalled if it was not to turn in upon itself and destroy her. No, it couldn't have been Daniel.
The weekend stretched emptily ahead of her. She had the conference to prepare for of course. It was a government-sponsored scheme for owners of those small businesses one of its departments had earmarked as being worthy of some special attention, companies which had in one way or another been successful enough in their particular fields to come under the department's avuncular eye.
Angelica had no desire to go, but she had accepted in the same spirit in which she had taken over the company in the first place-because she felt it was what her father would have expected of her.
One of the things she had discussed with her mother for the first time during her recent stay was her ambiguous feelings about remaining in control of the business. She had scrupulously pointed out to her mother that, if she took a less active role, it might mean a smaller income for them both, but her mother had astonished her by informing her that, following her father's death, she had been making a very nice living for herself dealing on the stock market, and that the income from the company had been safely banked with a large building society as a nest egg for Angelica herself.
'I've never felt happy about living off you, Angelica,' she had told her daughter. 'I didn't say anything to you because I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Your father always kept me wrapped in cotton wool.
'He was that kind of man and I never liked to tell him that I would have preferred a more robust partnership, that I would have liked to share his business life with him. He felt that wives had to be protected and supported, cosseted almost, but after his death ... well, I decided it was time I struck out on my own.' She had given Angelica a smile which was half mischievous and half rueful.
'I loved your father very much, but over the years he had devoted so much time to the company and so little to me. Well, I discovered that I rather liked my independence, so when you're making plans for your own future, Angelica, you don't have to consider me. I'm not decrepit yet, you know,' she had added in gentle reproof.
So if she did decide to step down from running the company, to take a more back-seat role, if it should mean a drop in their income, it wasn't going to bother her mother.
A few short weeks-that was all it had taken to show her what was really important in her life. And yet for all that she had genuinely believed herself in love with Giles, she had never for one second contemplated giving up running the company. She had never once then felt as she did now, that if Daniel had only loved her as she loved him she would gladly have given up everything to be at his side. Even if he had been, as she had thought, some
one to whom the work ethic as she knew it simply did not exist.
But he didn't love her and he didn't want her. So why did she still feel this need, this urge to change her life so completely? Was it because she was afraid that if she didn't, eventually there might come a time when her work was all that her life held? She gave a tiny shiver, not liking the pictures her mind was drawing for her.
Once this conference was behind her then she would sit down with Tom and discuss what was in her mind, she promised herself.
CHAPTER TEN
THE weekend dragged by. Angelica had lost all hope of Daniel's contacting her now, and in some contrary way was almost glad that he hadn't done so, because if he had ... If he had, the temptation to see him would have been so great, so overwhelming that she doubted that she would have been able to stop herself from driving down to Pembroke to be with him, and once she was with him how long would it have been before she had been pouring out her heart to him, pleading with him for whatever scraps of affection and compassion he could give her?
And that wouldn't be fair to either of them. If she tried to bind him to her with chains of guilt and compassion, she would never be able to live with herself and ultimately there would come a day when he would resent those chains she had forged, when he would resent her.
No, it was better this way. Far, far better. Let him think her ungrateful, unbalanced even, but please God never let him think her pathetic or pitiable.
The conference was being held in a smart country house hotel close to Bath. Angelica set off in good time for the pre-lunch introductory talk, and found when she eventually got there that she was one of the first to arrive.
A smiling receptionist handed her an elegant folder containing all the details of the conference, and gave her the key to her room.
The government department concerned had taken over the entire hotel for the three days of the course, but Angelica was dismayed to see that some substantial blocks of free time were written into the timetable. The hotel was set amid beautifully landscaped grounds; if she had not been here on her own ... if Daniel had been with her for instance, if they had been here on holiday, this place would have been idyllic. As it was ...
She was just about to take her case up to her room when the receptionist suddenly called her back. She was frowning, as she listened to something a dark-suited young man was telling her. He was, Angelica noticed, wearing a badge bearing the words 'Assistant Manager'.
'I'm sorry,' the receptionist apologised to her. 'There seems to have been a slight mix-up with the rooms and I've given you the wrong key.'
As Angelica handed hers back to her, she handed her another, apologising again. Angelica gave her a wan smile. It really didn't matter to her what her room was like. Nothing mattered to her any more.
Even so, it startled her to discover she had been given, not merely a room, but a private suite with its own sitting-room, comfortably furnished with deep, squashy sofas, covered in soft chintz to match the curtains at the windows, windows that gave her a wonderful view of the park and its man-made lake. In the middle of the lake was a small island, complete with a temple.
Turning away from the window, Angelica walked into her bedroom. It was larger than she had expected, and beautifully furnished with excellent and no doubt expensive reproduction Georgian furniture, including a very handsome four-poster bed, lavishly draped with the same chintz as her sitting-room.
Beyond the bedroom was an equally well-appointed bathroom, with a huge old-fashioned bath. The walls were painted with a mural, depicting various vaguely Italianate scenes, the whole ambience of the suite so luxurious and expensive that Angelica could only marvel that she had been given it. She dreaded to think how much it must normally cost to spend even one night in such opulent surroundings.
She had heard that the chef-owner of the hotel had an excellent reputation and that the small weekend dinner dances held here were always booked up months in advance.
She had travelled to Bath in a smart, businesslike suit, and apart from checking that her hair and makeup were discreetly in order there was no reason for her to delay going downstairs to join the others.
The same receptionist who had given her the key directed her towards the conference-room.
There was no one there whom she recognised, although some of the men, those who obviously knew one another, were gathering together in small groups, while another group, this time comprised of members of her own sex, was also steadily gathering in one corner of the room.
Wondering if she ought to go and join them, and wishing she could summon a little more enthusiasm for something she knew quite well would once have demanded her fullest concentration, she hesitated, looking uninterestedly around the room, refusing the coffee she was offered. And then another small group walked into the room, obviously the government officials, and the conference began in earnest.
There was a brief break for lunch, and then a talk in the afternoon about the various methods of succeeding in selling in Japan, complete with helpful advice about the best way to find a Japanese interpreter.
Angelica listened vaguely, knowing guiltily that her place on the conference could and should perhaps have gone to someone else who would make better use of it.
After afternoon tea there was a discussion group to which she contributed almost next to nothing, and then a break before a formal dinner being given during the evening at which their guests would be some visiting Japanese businessmen.
Angelica changed for dinner without enthusiasm. The slim-fitting plain black dress she had brought with her hung loosely on her body, making her sharply aware of how much weight she had lost, and was still losing. As she studied herself in the mirror she acknowledged that she looked tired, drained, lifeless almost. If Daniel could see her now he would be only too relieved not to be involved with her. She made a mental note to avoid wearing black in future. It seemed to underline her unhappiness. She looked like a widow wearing mourning weeds.
Formal banqueting tables had been arranged in the dining-room. Angelica was not surprised to discover she was seated halfway down one of these well away from the top table. The men to either side of her were strangers to her as were those opposite her, although the seat immediately opposite hers was empty. Someone who was obviously running a little late.
The top table filed in, the Japanese businessmen were introduced and discreetly applauded. Everyone sat down, and Angelica tried to make sensible responses to the questions being posed by her dinner companions.
She toyed with her soup, barely drinking any of it much to the obvious disgust of the rather portly man to her right, and then, just as the staff were clearing the tables for the next course, there was a small flurry of activity and someone sat down in the seat opposite her ...
No, not someone, she recognised as her heart gave a frantic bound and her whole world seemed to turn upside-down ... Not someone at all-but Daniel.
A Daniel she scarcely recognised in his dark grey business suit and crisp white shirt, his dark curly hair tamed and groomed, his wrists and hands darkly tanned, hard and very male in comparison to the over-plump, flaccid flesh of the men seated either side of her.
Her heart was pumping far too fast. He hadn't seen her yet. He was saying something to the woman on his left, smiling at her as he shook his head, no doubt explaining why he was so late in arriving.
Above the general level of conversation Angelica caught the words, 'last-minute arrangement ... got delayed'.
Any minute now he was going to turn round and see her, and when he did ...
On the pretext of losing her napkin, she ducked her head and tried frantically to decide what she should do. The last thing she felt capable of doing right now was confronting him across a table, and pretending ... pretending what? That she didn't know him? Of course she couldn't do that. What, then? Smile and say cheerily, 'Heavens, what a coincidence.' As though they had parted on the best of terms, as though that fierce, elemental coming together had never
taken place, as though they were nothing more than the merest chance met acquaintances. Well, if not that what were they? Lovers?
Hardly. Friends? No, not really.
'I say, are you all right? Looking a trifle peaky-wondered if you felt quite the thing?'
The words were like manna from heaven. Instantly she chided herself for not being nicer to her plump neighbour earlier. Now he had given her the perfect excuse to escape. Shaking her head, she pressed her napkin to her mouth and watched as he went slightly pale.
He was no Daniel. Doubtless the thought of her being publicly unwell would embarrass the life out of him.
'So sorry,' she managed to say. 'I think--'
'Yes. Shouldn't stay here if I were you. Go up to your room. Soon feel more the thing.'
Without daring to turn to see if Daniel had recognised her, she fled, as discreetly as she could, pausing only in Reception to explain to the girl on duty, a different girl this time, that she had only recently recovered from a bout of food poisoning and that she was not feeling too well.
'If you should want a doctor,' the girl offered, but Angelica shook her head.
'No, really I'll be fine. I think it was just the smell of the food,' she lied guiltily.
Upstairs in her suite she locked the door and then stood shivering in the middle of the room. Daniel here. That was the last thing she had expected, and no doubt he would have been equally shocked to see her. More shocked, no doubt. Even now, knowing that the most sensible thing she could do was pack her bags and leave right now, all she really wanted to do was to find out which was his room, to see him, to talk to him, to be with him. But she couldn't give in to that kind of temptation. And neither could she leave the course, not without some kind of explanation. But she already had her explanation-her food poisoning. If she left now before the dinner was over ...
In her absence someone had unpacked her things. She raced round the bedroom feverishly flinging them back into her suitcase, not hearing the soft turn of a key in the outer door, not realising she wasn't alone any longer, until some sixth sense made her look up.
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