by Anne Mather
She heard Mrs. Hunter come up some time later and go to her room, and then later still she heard Jonas enter his bedroom. For a moment when he had crossed the landing from the bathroom she had wondered whether he might see her light and come to her door, but he didn't. She drew a tremulous breath. What was the matter with her?
She almost jumped out of her skin a few minutes later when her bedroom door did open and Jonas stood there. Dressed only in a towelling bathrobe, he looked big and disturbingly handsome, and her toes curled beneath the covers. Then she saw he was holding a roll of adhesive plaster in his hand.
'Y—yes?' she managed.
Jonas looked down at the plaster. 'I have to change the dressing,' he said quietly. 'Could you help me with it? I saw your light or I shouldn't have bothered you.'
'I - it's no bother.' Julie sat up in bed jerkily. 'You - you'd better close the door. We don't want to disturb your mother.'
'No.' His tone was dry, but he did as she asked and came over to the bed. 'I've taken the wet one off. If you could just bind this piece right round my palm and the back of my hand.'
Julie took his hand in hers. He had the hands of an artist, lean and long-fingered, and tanned, too, after his months in South America. Trying to ignore the way touching him made her pulses race, she turned his hand over and gasped at the ugly inflammation in his palm.
'It looks worse than it is,' he said patiently, sitting down on the side of the bed. 'Gripping the wheel all day hasn't helped.'
Julie looked up at him, but his face was too close, his eyes too penetrating, and she quickly looked down again. 'Do - don't you put anything on it? Ointment - something like that?'
'No. You know the doctor gave me some antibiotics. They're all I need. Just put on the plaster, will you?'
He was so cool, while she was a burning mass of nerves and sensations. Her tongue protruded slightly as she concentrated on securing the plaster firmly without hurting him too much. Then she let go of his hand and rubbed her own moist palms together. 'There you are!'
'Thanks.' He rose to his feet.
'Jonas—' Now why had she said his name?
'Yes?' He looked down at her.
'Oh, nothing.' She moved her shoulders in a dismissing motion. 'I hope it's all right.'
'It will be.' He walked to the door. 'Good night, Julie.'
'Good night.'
The door closed behind him and Julie found she was trembling. This was ridiculous, she thought irritably. She was becoming neurotic, just like he said. Then a thought struck her. At the bottom of her handbag there was a bottle containing sleeping pills. If she took a couple of them she would be sure of getting some sleep. But her handbag was downstairs...
She thrust her legs out of bed. There was no point in lying there, waiting for the pills to come to her. And equally, she could not bear the thought of lying awake again. Pushing her feet into her mules, she opened the bedroom door and went silently across the landing and down the stairs. Her handbag was lying on the chair in the lounge where she had left it, and as the firelight illuminated the room she didn't need to put on the light. She fumbled in the bottom of her bag, impatient when the tiny bottle kept slipping out of her reach. But at last she got hold of it and brought it out, unscrewing the cap. The pills were small and white, lethal-looking little tablets containing a measured dose of some narcotic. It crossed her mind with the inconsequence of such things that a careless overdose would solve all her problems ...
'What are you doing?'
Jonas's harsh tones almost petrified her. He stood in the doorway, still wearing the towelling robe, his hand resting on the switch which had suddenly dissipated the shadows and cast a brilliant illumination over the room.
Julie swallowed convulsively. 'I - I - my handbag was down here,' she stammered.
'Why should you need your handbag at this time of night?' His eyes narrowed as they took in the small bottle in her fingers. 'What are you taking?'
Julie sighed. 'Just - just a headache tablet,' she lied uncomfortably.
He walked towards her. 'Let me see.'
'No.' She thrust the bottle back into the bag and concealed the hand containing the two tablets she had extracted behind her back.
Jonas ignored her, taking the bag forcibly from her and flinging it on to the settee. Then he twisted her arm from behind her back and opened her clenched fingers. 'Those are not headache tablets,' he stated grimly, looking down at what lay on her palm. 'They're sedatives, aren't they?'
She held up her head. 'What if they are?'
'You shouldn't be taking sedatives, Julie,' he muttered roughly. He walked across and threw the two tablets into the fire. 'Now, go on - get back to bed!'
Julie rubbed her wrist where his grip had reddened the flesh. 'I'm not a child, you know, Jonas,' she declared indignantly.
Then she saw her handbag lying on the couch. Without stopping to consider her actions, she snatched up the bag and was half-way up the stairs when she heard him coming after her. She fled into her bedroom and closed the door, searching desperately for a key. But there wasn't one, and she was standing tremblingly in the middle of the floor when the door opened. Jonas came into the room, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it for an unbearable moment of truth.
Then he straightened and came towards her, jerking the bag out of her hands. 'I'm not stupid, you know,' he snapped. 'I am aware that you've got some more.'
Julie watched as he extracted the small bottle and slipped it into the pocket of his robe. Then her control snapped. 'Oh - oh, please, Jonas,' she begged, 'don't take them all. I - I couldn't bear another night like - like last night!'
Jonas stared at her disbelievingly, his dark brows drawing together above the narrowed glitter of his eyes. Then he reached for her, dragging her closely against him, pressing his hot face into her neck. They stood like that for a long minute and Julie could feel her traitorous body yielding to the hardness of his. Then his mouth moved up her throat and found hers, parting her lips and devouring them.
After that, Julie didn't much care what he did to her so long as she could be close to him like this. She pressed herself against him, aware of the fine thread of control he was exercising, aware of her power to arouse him almost against his will.
'For God's sake, Julie,' he muttered, 'do you want me to stay?'
Julie wound her bare arms around his neck, inviting his possession. 'Oh, yes,' she groaned feverishly. 'Stay with me, Jonas, make love to me ...'
His control snapped and with an exclamation almost of protest, he lifted her on to the bed and slid on to it beside her. 'Julie ...' he began, huskily, but she silenced his mouth with her fingers.
'Love me, Jonas,' she breathed, unloosening his robe. 'Love me - do it, Jonas, now...'
CHAPTER EIGHT
WHEN Julie opened her eyes next morning, brilliant autumn sunlight was flooding into the bedroom. A delicious feeling of lassitude was upon her and as full recollection of the events of the night before returned, she turned her head swiftly to where Jonas's head had rested on the pillow beside hers. But Jonas was gone, and because it was a single bed there was nothing to show that he had spent the night with her.
A terrible sense of desolation assailed her. Where was he? She couldn't possibly have imagined it all, could she? But no - as she moved her limbs still tingled from the pressure of his hands, the weight of his powerful body; and her lips were bruised from the passionate hunger of his mouth. Oh yes, she thought languorously, recalling every moment of that urgent possession. It had been real, satisfyingly so ... but what now?
She pushed the question aside. She didn't want to think of that now. She wanted to take everything as it came. She didn't know what she had committed herself to, whether her surrender was an acceptance that her need for him was stronger than her revulsion against his guilt. She only knew that she still loved him as much as ever, and that no other man would ever be able to arouse her as he could arouse her.
She rolled on to h
er stomach taking the covers with her, and stared incredulously at the clock on the bedside table. It couldn't possibly be a quarter to eleven, could it? She sat backwards on her heels with a jolt and then crossed her arms protectively across her breasts as the
cool air hit her naked body.
With a disturbing sense of apprehension she slid out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown. Why had no one woken her? She ought to have been up by this time. She padded to the door and pulled it open, standing silent for a few moments, listening. But the only sound coming from downstairs was that of a radio.
Unable to stand the suspense of waiting until she was dressed to find out where Jonas was, Julie left her room and went down the stairs, peering hopefully into the lounge. There was no one about and deciding that the radio was playing in the kitchen she made her way there. She opened the kitchen door and found Mrs. Hunter peeling potatoes at the sink, but of Jonas there was no sign.
Hearing the door open, her mother-in-law looked round. 'Oh, so you're awake at last, Julie. I was just going to finish these and then bring you up a nice cup of tea.'
Julie looked down apologetically at her dressing gown. 'I - er - I overslept. I didn't even stop to get dressed . ..'
'That doesn't matter. Gome along in. It's nice and warm in here. And there's just the two of us. Mrs. Carter doesn't come in today as it's Saturday, and Jonas had to leave for London over an hour ago.'
Julie's lips parted. 'Jonas - has gone?'
'That's right.' Mrs. Hunter turned down the radio and lifting the kettle began to fill it from the tap. 'He spoke to his agent on the phone this morning and there's some problem he needs help with. He apologized for having to leave you behind, but it was rather urgent and he didn't want to disturb you. He said you hadn't been sleeping too well.'
Julie plumped down into a chair, her legs giving out on her. 'But - but I was going to London, too,' she protested dazedly, scarcely able to think of anything at that moment but that he had left her.
'I know, dear,' said Mrs. Hunter comfortably, 'but there are plenty of trains, and I can easily drive you to Darlington station when you're ready to leave. You don't have any deadline to keep, do you?'
Julie shook her head slowly. Suddenly the events of the night before were not something to contemplate with anything but self-disgust. She almost cringed when she recalled how wantonly she had behaved, betraying herself, and those nearest and dearest to her. How could she have forgotten the things she had drilled into herself on her journey north, the warnings she had been given, the fear that something like this might happen? And now he had achieved his objective, he had left her, just as she had known he would ...
'What's the matter, Julie? You're looking very pale.'
Mrs; Hunter was staring at her with evident concern and Julie forced herself to shake her head, bringing a little blood back to her drained cheeks. 'It's nothing,' she denied, smoothing the table top with her finger tips. 'I - how have you been keeping? Do you see much of Nicholas and Joanne these days?'
Mrs. Hunter was clearly not satisfied with Julie's attempt to change the topic of conversation, but she said she saw her second son and his wife at least once every week, and that their baby girl, Penny, was cutting her first teeth. Then she returned to the attack.
'Julie, I want you to tell me something - truthfully - are you still in love with Jonas? I'm an interfering old woman, I know, but I couldn't help but notice how the news of his leaving affected you—'
Julie wouldn't look at her. 'I - I was surprised, that's all.'
'Was that all?' Mrs. Hunter's eyes were almost as penetrating as her son's. Julie could feel them boring into her.
'I really don't think you should ask me that,' she murmured uncomfortably.
'Why not? He's my son, Julie, I love him dearly. I know you've hurt him, badly, and I want to know why. If you're still in love with him—'
'I -I don't know that I am—'
'Don't you?' Mrs. Hunter turned away to make the tea. 'All right, we'll say no more about it.'
Julie sighed. 'Mrs. Hunter, I didn't break up our marriage—'
'No. Angela Forrest did that.'
Julie gasped. 'How can you say such a thing? You can't blame Angela for - for something Jonas did!'
Mrs. Hunter stirred the teapot vigorously. 'What did he do?'
Julie bent her head. 'You know as well as I do—'
'You're very willing to condemn my son, aren't you, Julie?'
Julie flushed. 'You know how Jonas attracts women!'
'Oh, yes. Women are attracted to him, I'll give you that. But how many women has he been attracted to?'
'How should I know?' Julie shook her head. 'Lots, I suppose.'
Mrs. Hunter poured her a cup of tea and pushed it briskly towards her, so briskly that some of it slopped into the saucer. 'You lived with Jonas for two years, Julie. Didn't you learn anything about him in that time? How many times did you find him making love to other women, coming home late, telling you lies?'
Julie raised her cup to her lips. 'Only once.' 'The night he spent with Angela Forrest?'
'Yes.'
'Have you never stopped to consider that she might be lying?'
'Of course.'
'But you dismissed the idea?'
'Yes.'
'Why?
Julie put down her cup. 'Angela and I have been friends since we were children, Mrs. Hunter. Jonas is asking me to believe that she deliberately waited until I was out of town for the night before coming to the apartment, feigning collapse, and allowing him to look after her. I ask you, does it sound reasonable?'
Mrs. Hunter seated herself opposite. 'It sounds damning,' she admitted, nodding. 'But we have an old- fashioned notion in this country that a man should be considered innocent until he's proved guilty.'
'Don't you think his guilt is proved?'
'No. Words can mean anything. As I see it, it's a simple case of Angela's word against his.'
'Not entirely.'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean - there was something more.' Julie felt sick even thinking about it after last night. 'I - I got a letter.'
'A letter? Mrs. Hunter stared at her uncomprehendingly.
'Yes. A letter. One of those ghastly anonymous things. I - I tore it up.' She had told no one about that, not even her mother.
'What did it say?'
Julie looked down into her cup. 'Oh, you know the sort of tiling,' she mumbled chokily. 'Do you know your
husband is having an affair with your best friend? It was horrible!'
'Did you ever find out who sent it?'
'No. How could I? I destroyed it. No one saw it but me.'
'When did it arrive?'
'That morning - the morning I came back and found - and found—'
'I see.' Mrs. Hunter digested this silently. 'I wonder who could have sent such a letter.'
'I don't know, and I don't really care.' Julie finished her tea and pushed her cup aside, getting to her feet. 'Could you possibly run me to the station this morning? I - I'd like to get the first train back to London. I expect Jonas told you I went to Scotland to get an interview for the magazine I work for. I've got to get it typed out and presentable to give Mark on Monday morning. Mark Bernstein, that is, my boss.'
Mrs. Hunter sighed heavily. 'I hoped you would stay the week-end, Julie. No matter what happens between you and Jonas, I'm very fond of you, you know.'
Julie shook her head jerkily. 'You're very kind, but I really do have to get back.'
'All right.' Mrs. Hunter didn't try to dissuade her although her lined face wore an expression of regret. 'But if ever you would like to come back - for a visit, perhaps - feel free to do so.'
Later in the day, sitting in the train on her way to London, Julie half wished she had accepted her mother- in-law's offer. It would have been quite a relief to spend a few days in such undemanding company. This past week in Scotland had not improved her nervous system, and the prospect of seeing her mothe
r and Angela again after what had taken place between herself and Jonas filled her with apprehension. Would she be able to convince them that her stay at the castle had been unavoidable, and would she manage to hide the highly emotional state in which she now found herself?
She took a taxi from King's Cross to the Victorian mansion in Pallister Court where she had her flat. The traffic in London on this busy Saturday evening was as hectic as ever and Julie was glad when she could pay off the driver and climb the stairs to her first-floor apartment. And yet, for all that, she was almost reluctant to begin her normal life again. Was it really less than a week since she left here? It seemed much longer than that.
She inserted her key in the lock and entered the tiny entrance hall. 'Angela?' she called tentatively. 'Angela, are you there?'
But to her relief, there was no reply, and she realized the flat was empty. She entered the living-room and looked about her without enthusiasm. It was an attractive room, but after the spacious elegance of the rooms at the castle, it seemed small and badly lit. Outside, the roar of traffic drifted from the main thoroughfare a hundred ; yards away, while opposite the lights of a similar apartment building blocked her view.
Julie drew the curtains, impatient with herself for feeling so depressed. She could easily take a holiday if she wanted one, find some hotel with a magnificent view and take things easy for a couple of weeks. But that wasn't what she wanted, and the knowledge frightened her. She had always considered herself sane and sensible. She had maintained an aloof self-control all through the difficult weeks after her separation from Jonas, and now, after only a few days in his company, she was letting doubt enter her mind. Not doubt about his guilt, although that could trouble her too, if she let it; no - doubt as to whether their separation had been the only solution. Might she have been more understanding, more forgiving? Without the intervention of others, might she have accepted his lapse for what it was because she needed him more than her pride?
