by Anne Mather
Julie had shaken her head. 'I - I wish you would,' she had murmured unsteadily, and seen the glitter that entered his eyes.
'What did you say?' he had demanded. But Julie could not have repeated it. And of course, she didn't have to. Jonas lowered his weight beside her, cupping her face in his hands, bending his head and putting gentle lips to her quivering mouth.
It was the first time he had kissed her, and apart from the boyish caresses she had experienced in her schooldays, Julie had little experience to draw on. But her lips had parted almost involuntarily and the kiss which had begun as such a tentative caress hardened and lengthened into passion. Jonas had borne her back against the springy softness of the turf and kissed her until she was weak and clinging to him. Then he had dragged himself away, torn up a blade of grass and said: 'I want to make love to you, and I'm not accustomed to denying myself anything I want, as no doubt you've heard. But in this instance it's rather different. I think I'm in love with you. How's that for a laugh!'
This speech was delivered in a low, impassioned tone, and Julie was unable to understand why he should sound so angry about something that filled her with an overwhelming feeling of delight. A few moments ago she could have denied him nothing, she had realized that. In spite of all the warnings she had had, in spite of her respect for her mother and Angela, if Jonas had chosen to make love to her she would not have been able to stop
him. That was why it was so wonderful that he had been the one to draw back. She pulled herself upright, her hand on his shoulder, and he turned to look at her, his eyes darkened by his emotions.
'Oh, Julie!' he muttered thickly, 'don't look at me like that! I'm not worth it. I'm too old for you - you're just starting out on your career and you can't possibly be expected to understand this selfish need I have to make you belong to me, to possess you - your body as well as your mind.' He stroked a strand of chestnut hair blown by the wind from her lips. 'I've tried to show you these past months that I'm not entirely the selfish brute I have the reputation of being, but last night - when you began to doubt me—' He shook his head. 'I wanted to hurt you, Julie. But I can't. I can't.' He looked away from her. 'You see what a fool you've made of me!'
'Oh, Jonas!' She buried her face against his shoulder, sliding her arm through his, clinging to him, glorying in the power he had given her. 'I - I'm sorry. I listened to my mother. She was convinced you had no intention of - of bringing me to meet your parents.'
Jonas looked sideways at her. 'Oh, I see.' He frowned. 'And you?'
Julie held his gaze with her own. 'I've always believed in you, Jonas.'
He smiled, and it was a miraculous transformation of his features. 'Oh, Julie!' he muttered huskily. 'What am I going to do with you?'
'What would you like to do?'
'You know what I want,' he answered quietly.
Julie swallowed hard. 'All - all right.'
'All right - what?'
'All right - have me!'
Hiseyesnarrowed. 'Exactly what areyou talking about?'
For a moment he had frightened her and she had stared at him almost tremulously. 'I - I thought — that is, you said you wanted to - to make love to me...'
'I do.'
Julie trembled. 'Well then—'
'Well then, what?' He shook his head. 'Oh, Julie, you crazy little fool! Did you think I was suggesting we should sleep together? Did you think that was what I wanted - what I was denying myself?'
'W-wasn't it?' She was totally confused now.
'No.' He cupped her chin with one hand. 'I would like to marry you. You know - wedding bells, orange blossom, the whole scene!'
Julie couldn't believe it. She stared at him and the hot tears had overflowed her eyes and trickled unheeded down her cheeks. For weeks she had steeled herself not to read anything into his casual companionship, had avoided physical contact with him for fear of giving her futile emotions away. And now ...
Jonas had looked down at her uncomprehendingly, licking the salty drops from her lips, unable to prevent himself from opening those lips again and seeking the warmth from within.
'Why are you crying, Julie?' he had asked at last, and she had told him. Because she was in love with him, too, because she cared too deeply for him ever to consider the difference in their ages any disadvantage, because she had never been so happy in her life...
And they had been happy, that was the amazing thing. Their relationship had expanded and developed, they explored each other's minds and each other's bodies with equal urgency, and at no time had Julie ever imagined he would betray her as he had done.
CHAPTER NINE
JULIE was typing out the notes on the interview when Mark sent for her.
Mark Bernstein's office was vastly different from her own - thick grey carpet, panelled walls, leather-surfaced desk, and a view over half of London. The man himself dominated the office, however - not very tall, but stocky, with greying black hair, beetling brows and a thick Mexican-style moustache. She knew he was forty-five and unmarried, and that her position here was secured by his genuine liking for her, but there had never been anything remotely intimate between them. He welcomed her warmly, settled her into the leather chair opposite his own, and rang through to his secretary and ordered coffee for two.
'Now,' he said, sitting down and reaching for one of the chunky cigars he smoked. 'What happened?'
Julie sighed. 'I got the interview.'
'You did?' Mark was delighted. 'That's marvellous!'
'I'm in the process of deciphering my notes at the moment. When do you want it?'
'There's no hurry. I've got that piece on Sarah Ardley to go in this week. You know - the general's wife who writes those ghastly science fiction things.'
Julie nodded, and there was a tap at the door and the secretary came in with the tray of coffee. She left it on the desk beside Julie and she took charge of it, glad of the diversion. As she poured Mark's, however, his expression changed and he said: 'You're looking very pale, Julie. How did it really go?'
Julie pushed his coffee towards him. 'I don't know f what you mean.'
'Yes, you do. Julie, this man is still your husband. I'm not without some sensibilities. I can appreciate the difficulties involved.'
'Can you?' Julie sounded sceptical.
'Yes.' Mark drew impatiently on his cigar. 'And I have to tell you - Hunter asked for the interview himself. He — he forced my hand.'
'Julie looked at him sympathetically, realizing what it must have cost him to tell her that. 'I know.'
'You know?'
'Yes, Jonas told me.' She sipped her coffee. 'Hmm, this is good. Better than the machine in the office.' Mark ignored her. 'Julie, why did he do it? What did he want? I mean, I'd hate to think I'd been responsible for - well, causing you any more unhappiness.' He shook his head. 'Angela fairly bit my head off when I saw her.'
Julie put down her cup. 'Angela doesn't like Jonas.'
'Doesn't she? I always used to think she fancied him herself.' He shook his head. 'I was probably wrong. And you're a grown woman, Julie. You can make your own decisions.'
'Yes.' Julie forced a smile. 'They're not always the right ones, though.'
'No?' Mark gave a rueful smile. 'But you can be pretty pigheaded when you choose to be.' He tapped ash into the onyx tray. 'By the way, there's an assignment coming up which I think might appeal to you. One of these mid- European principalities, you know the sort of place? Well, there's to be a wedding ...'
The remainder of the interview was taken up with discussing Julie's possible trip to Europe, and when she returned to her office she was glad to have something new
to think about and plan for. While she was in the office she could occupy her mind. It was when she left it she felt that awful sense of desperation.
To make matters worse, when she left work that evening and went out to the car park to start her car, the Mini refused to fire. Most of her colleagues had already left and rather than spend useless minutes looking in
to the engine she locked the doors again and went to find a taxi. She would phone the garage when she got home and have them pick it up and repair it. It was probably nothing too serious.
It wasn't easy getting a taxi at that hour of the evening, but at last she managed to summon one and scrambled inelegantly into the back before an elderly businessman could beat her to it. She gave her address and sat back with relief. In the matter of engaging taxis, women's rights were far less than equal!
It didn't take long to reach Pallister Court and she paid the driver and ran lightly up the steps to the door. As she did so, the sleek lines of a sports saloon caught her eye. It was parked in the small area to one side of the entrance where she usually kept her Mini, and she could almost swear it was a Porsche, Jonas's Porsche...
She chided herself angrily for being a fool. She had Jonas Hunter on the brain. Even if it was a Porsche, there must be dozens of them in London. And in any case, why
would he be here? Unless ... Her pulses quickened.
Unless he had come to see her ... or Angela ...
Her palms were moist as she climbed the stairs to the first floor landing, and there was an awful feeling of unease probing at the nerves in her stomach so that she felt almost sick with anticipation.
She heard the voices as soon as she opened the door to the flat, angry voices that had clearly not overheard her
entrance. She had intended to call out: 'Angela! I'm home!' anything to make her presence known; but she couldn't help recognizing that one of the voices was Jonas's, and that silenced her. She was not an eavesdropper, she had never listened in to other people's conversations before. But there was something so hostile about the argument that was taking place in the living- room that when she heard her name mentioned she froze into immobility.
'Julie will never believe you!' That was Angela, her voice strident and scornful.
'I wouldn't be too sure of that.' That, of course, was Jonas. He sounded angry, too, but he didn't have to raise . his voice to command a hearing. 'I don't think she's properly considered what this means.'
'She never will—'
'I think she might. If I ask her.' Jonas uttered an imprecation. 'What did you do that for?'
Angela laughed, and it was not a pleasant sound. 'You made me. You can't keep away from me. When Julie comes back she'll see for herself that you've been up to your old tricks.'
'I could kill you for that, Angela!'
Julie's heart almost stopped beating at the menace in his voice. What was going on here? What were they arguing about? And what had Angela done?
Angela laughed again. 'You wouldn't do that, Jonas. You wouldn't dare!'
'Oh, I'd dare all right,' muttered Jonas savagely, and Julie's hand reached for the handle of the living-room door. She could not let this go on. But before she could reveal herself he went on: 'But I have no intention of making a martyr of you, Angela! Julie has to see you as you really are - mean and jealous - and sick!'
'Sick?'
'Yes, sick, Angela. Only a sick mind could have dreamed up that scheme. But you overstepped the mark, didn't you? Julie coming back like that almost threw you, didn't it? I often wondered how you managed to get your clothes off and get into the bed in time. You couldn't possibly have planned it, and as Julie wasn't expected home that morning I could see no reason for staging such a charade without an audience. I didn't know about the letter, of course. Julie never told me. Which was lucky for you. But then it all turned out well so far as you were concerned, didn't it? You had only to appeal to Julie's sensitivity - play on her sympathies - trade on her believing you because you'd always pretended I wasn't good enough for her!'
'You're not!' Angela almost screamed the words.
'You're jealous, Angela. Jealous of what Julie and I shared. Jealous - because you wanted it yourself!'
'Don't flatter yourself—'
'Oh, I'm not. But I am aware you'd have done anything to separate us. That was why I left the country. I couldn't bear to see Julie being deceived and not being able to do anything about it.' He uttered an oath. 'God, if I'd known about that letter—'
'But you didn't did you, Jonas?'
Julie blinked, trying to think coherently. They had to be talking about the anonymous letter she had received, but how did Jonas know about that? Then she remembered. She had told his mother. Mrs. Hunter must have telephoned her son and told him. But why? What difference did the letter make? And why was Jonas so furious because he hadn't known about it? It only confirmed what she had seen with her own eyes - confirmed that someone else had known about their affair...
She swallowed convulsively, hot colour staining her cheeks. But what was it Angela had said about that awful night? That Jonas had taken her out - given her too much to drink - and seduced her ... Julie drew an uneven breath. That still stuck in her throat no matter how she tried to ignore the implications. But anyway, Angela had insisted that there had been only this one occasion. She had said that in the past she had always refused to have anything to do with him. She had been the innocent party to his deception and had been shattered when Julie found out what had happened.
Julie sagged. But even that proved nothing. The letter must have been false, but so what? People were always trying to cause trouble. Her spirits plummeted. She simply could not understand why Jonas should have considered the letter so important. It was still Jonas's word against Angela's, and even after what she had just heard she could not believe he was entirely innocent.
Angela was speaking again, and despising herself for listening Julie pressed her finger tips against her lips.
'—and anyway, Julie is hardly likely to pay any attention to you, with the marks of another woman's nails scored on your cheek. She'll be home soon. I always hear her car coming into the yard. The silencer is cracked, you know. I wonder what she'll say when she finds you here—' Suddenly, without any warning, the living-room door was wrenched open and Julie stared agonizingly into Jonas's shocked face. As Angela had said, there were scratches on his face, and she had made them.
'Julie!' He sounded stunned. 'My God, how long have you been there?'
'Julie - Julie, is that you?' Angela came pushing past Jonas into the small hallway, looking anxiously at Julie's pale face. 'Oh, Julie, thank heavens you've come! Jonas
has been here for ages—'
'Fifteen minutes, to be exact!' stated Jonas quietly, but Angela contradicted him scornfully.
'He's been here much longer than that, Julie. I don't know why he came. He knows I want nothing more to do with him—'
Jonas cast a savage look at her and then grasped Julie firmly by the shoulders, giving her a little shake. 'Julie! Stop looking as though you've seen a ghost! I want to know - how long have you been here?'
'Wh-why—'
Angela broke in on them. 'He wants to reassure himself that you haven't overheard the things he's been saying to me,' she exclaimed spitefully. 'He came in here, demanding that I tell you that everything I said before was lies, all lies! As if I could! When I refused, he started shaking me and I scratched his face—'
'I was here when you scratched his face,' said Julie slowly, almost uncomprehendingly.
Angela was clearly taken aback. 'You - were - here—'
'Were you, Julie, were you?' Jonas was staring desperately at her, his lean cheek livid where Angela's long nails had scored their path. Julie felt nauseated by the image that created, and she drew back from him so that his hands dropped to his sides.
'Yes,' she replied unsteadily, 'I was here. I've gathered that your mother told you about the letter—'
'Yes. Yes, she did. Julie, if you were here, you must have realized—'
Angela interposed herself between them. 'Darling, forget about it. It's all over and done with. Surely the fact that Jonas came here today with the intention of forcing me into lying for his sake proves that he's been deceiving you all along ...' She put an arm around Julie's shoulders, but the other girl flinched away from her, too.
'Julie, Julie dear! Gome along inside. You look ghastly. Where have you been anyway? I didn't hear the car.'
'It wouldn't start. I took a cab.' Julie answered her automatically. Then she turned to Jonas again. She had to know the truth, whatever it cost her. What did that letter mean to him? 'Jonas, what did you mean when you said you wished you'd known about the letter at the time?'
'Because Angela sent that letter,' stated Jonas grimly.
Julie took a backward step. 'What?'
'Don't take any notice of him, Julie,' exclaimed Angela forcefully. 'What possible reason could I have for sending you such a letter? Good heavens, I had no need of letters. We're friends. We've always told one another everything. You know that!' She sounded reproachful.
Julie had listened to what she had to say, but then she looked at Jonas again. 'Well, Jonas?' she said, forcing her voice not to tremble. 'That's true, isn't it?'
Jonas's expression was contemptuous. 'You think so?'
'What do you mean?'
'I've told you, Julie, he came here to cause trouble—'
Jonas ignored Angela's outburst and went on: 'You're forgetting something, Julie. You weren't expected back until the evening of that day. Even Angela could never have dreamed of having the good luck to have you come back unexpectedly and find her at the apartment. She had to be sure you knew, and what better way than by sending a letter? Who else would have done such a thing?'
'I - I don't know—' Julie didn't know what to think. 'But even if I hadn't come back, I would never have been sure—'
'Oh, you would. Angela would have seen to that.'
'You're not making any ground here, Jonas!' Angela was contemptuous now. She knew Julie was hurt and confused and she took advantage of it. 'Everything you're saying has been said before. Julie doesn't believe you. She knows the kind of man you are.'
'What kind of man am I, Angela?' His voice was dangerously soft.
'The kind of man who would seduce your wife's best friend without giving it a second thought—'
'Why, you-'
Jonas took a step forward, but now Julie interposed herself between them. 'This has gone far enough, Jonas,' she said wearily. 'I accept that there might be more to this than I originally thought, and that you despise Angela for what she's supposed to have done—'
