by Daphne Clair
For a long time Elise stood where he had left her, the echo of the slamming door still in her mind. She had an almost superstitious feeling that she mustn't move, because surely, surely Shard would come back and tell her he hadn't meant it. He wouldn't get on the plane and fly to Wellington without retracting that cruel and preposterous accusation.
After a while she sat down on the bed, grasping the slippery satin of the spread because she felt a dire need to hold on to something. But it didn't help. The one thing that was clear in her mind, as she looked at the little bedside clock and saw that the hour was up and the plane must be taking off, was that Shard of all people never said anything that he didn't mean. He was never petty and he didn't know how to pretend, and besides, what reason could he have for pretending that he believed she could have been unfaithful to him?
The only explanation was that jealousy had warped his judgment. And yet—and now anger began mercifully to mitigate the hurt—he had no reason to be jealous. There was no reason, nothing except the fact that she and Cole, both fully dressed, had lien in the bedroom when he came unexpectedly home in mid-afternoon. She supposed that at first sight the situation might have looked compromising, with Cole's farewell gesture in mind—that quick, light brushing of his lips against her forehead. But any reasonable man would have accepted the true explanation, not made a vicious accusation against a friend and the wife he had every reason to trust.
A long time later, she began to feel a strange emptiness, and realised that she was hungry. Her mouth smiled wryly as she got up and went through to the kitchen. Human nature was strange. She felt as though it didn't matter if she never ate again, but a healthy body wasn't concerned with the delicate feelings of the mind. She remembered the same feeling after Peter's funeral, when she had vaguely thought it was a part of her grief, and Shard had come and forced her to realise that this particular part of it was purely physical, after all.
Shard, who had come back into her life and made her live again—made her love him as she had never loved Peter. And who was responsible for the numbing terrible ache that she couldn't localise but that seemed her brain, her heart, her lungs, even in the hands that clumsily buttered bread and broke eggs as she forced herself to make a meal she didn't want.
Because, as Cole had said, pregnant ladies must be looked after—she had another life to think of now, a very small, barely beginning human being that she scarcely dared believe in as yet, but that she felt was terribly precious and fragile.
She switched on the television after she had washed up, because the silence was so terrible, but she hardly understood what she watched. At ten, the announcer was babbling news about famine overseas, a plane crash somewhere, the collapse of a well-known finance business that a bearded commentator said had affected the financial situation of a number of other well-known firms as well as numerous small investors. The words went on, but Elise's ear was tuned to the sound of the telephone, that remained stubbornly silent.
Shard had been in Wellington for hours, now, within easy reach of a telephone, a quick toll-call to Auckland that would have taken a few minutes of his time. And there had been nothing.
She scarcely slept, and woke in the morning feeling unutterably depressed. As she came fully awake and conscious, the depression turned to sharp, searing pain.
She made breakfast to stave off a dizzying nausea, forcing herself to swallow toast and tea, and then went to the telephone and made an appointment to see the doctor later in the day. It was only sensible to confirm her condition, although she was sure there was no mistake. And besides, it gave the empty day some purpose.
She had barely put down the receiver when the bell pealed into the stillness. She snatched it up with a sudden lurch of hope that died abruptly when Cole's voice said, 'You must have been standing by the phone.'
'Yes,' she said, trying not to let her sick disappointment colour her voice, 'I was.'
'Been talking to Shard?' he asked, a little too casually.
'No. I haven't heard from him since he left yesterday.' Hastily she tacked on, 'I expect he has a lot to do.'
'Yes, I suppose so. It was pretty sudden, wasn't it?' He sounded sober.
'Very sudden,' she agreed, thinking of that lightning swift packing. 'We—didn't have much time to talk.' She realised she didn't even know the nature of the crisis that had summoned Shard Wellington.
'When do you expect him back?' Cole asked.
'Friday. He said three days.'
'Well, if there's anything I can do, Elise --'
Keep well away, she thought. If Shard returned to find Cole hovering about her ...
'Nothing,' she said. 'I think I'll go to my parents until he comes back.'
'That's a good idea.' He sounded relieved. 'Well, keep in touch.'
'Yes,' she promised, 'I will.'
It hadn't been a comfortable conversation, with the memory of Shard's grim, accusing face between them. She wondered if they would ever regain the undemanding, pleasant friendship they had shared.
The telephone rang twice more, both times the callers asking for Shard. 'He's in Wellington,' she told them. 'I don't expect him back until Friday at the earliest.'
One of the callers laughed in what she thought was an odd way, and said, 'I see.'
She didn't know what it was he saw, and didn't care for his manner, so she bade him a frigid good morning and put down the receiver. She supposed they were business calls, which was unusual, but then it was unusual for Shard not to be in his office in Auckland during the day.
But she didn't want to stay here, her heart leaping into life each time the phone rang, only to plummet when the caller was not Shard. She lifted the receiver again, this time to dial her parents' number.
'I'd like to come and stay,' she told her mother. 'For a couple of nights, if that's okay. Shard's in Wellington:—'
'Of course,' her mother said, with more warmth than usual in her voice. 'You must come to us, dear. What time --?'
'I'll come right over, if I may,' said Elise. Trying to smile, she added, 'I'm sick of my own company. But I have an appointment this afternoon.'
Once the decision was made, she felt better. She packed almost as quickly as Shard had, locking the door behind her with a sense of relief, grabbing the rolled newspaper from the delivery box as she passed, and dropping it on the floor of the car without glancing at it. She had troubles of her own enough this morning without reading about those of the rest of the world.
She was welcomed with a kiss and a warm hug that surprised her.
Her bag was put into her own room and her mother made tea. It was too soon after her breakfast, but Katherine's solicitude was so marked that she didn't like to refuse.
'Have you seen the paper this morning?' her mother asked.
'It's in the car, I haven't looked at it. Why?' asked Elise, trying to muster some interest. 'Is there anything new?'
'Well, at least the TV report didn't mention Cortland Construction by name. The paper printed it.'
Puzzled, and then afraid, Elise queried, 'What? What about Cortland Construction?'
'Well, what do you think?' said her mother, as though she must know all about it. She got up and took the paper out of the magazine rack across the room.
Unable to wait, Elise put down her cup with a little clatter and followed. 'Let me see,' she said, panic rising as she remembered Shard's grim haste yesterday. Cole's awkward offer of help, her mother's unusual tenderness —all taking on a new significance now.
She took the sheets from her mother's hands and her eyes dilated on the black front page headlines.
WIDESPREAD REPERCUSSIONS
FROM FINANCIAL COLLAPSE
And below in bold type: The sudden collapse of the giant and apparently ulta-safe finance and investment corporation Leed and Howell threatens many major business organisations with bankruptcy; these include Abingdon's Transport, Carroll and Mercer Ltd., Cortland Construction ...
The black type -was blurred and dan
cing before her eyes. It seemed to rim across the page and obscure the white paper, and there was a rushing hum in her ears. She felt cold as ice all over and her fingers could no longer hold the newspaper...
Her mother's voice seemed miles away, and she found herself lying on the sofa. She opened her eyes and the room tilted and then moved slowly into focus.
'Drink this,' Katherine said briskly, thrusting a small glass into her hand. She did, and it helped. Alcohol, but she didn't know what kind. It seeped into her cold limbs and warmed them a little.
'I'm sorry,' she said. 'How ridiculous—like a Victorian melodrama. That's the second time in two days.'
On a note of trepidation, Katherine asked, 'Are you pregnant?'
Elise managed a small smile. 'Yes, I think so. I'm going to the doctor this afternoon.'
'I'll come with you. But really, Elise, what a time' to pick!'
Elise tried to laugh. 'I didn't really pick it,' she said. 'I never expected it to happen.'
'No. Well, it can't be helped. How does Shard feel about it?'
'I—I hardly had time to tell him before he flew to Wellington. He—I don't think he really took it in.'
'What on earth possessed you to tell him then?'
'I did mean to wait until the doctor confirmed it, but it sort of slipped out.'
Katherine looked as though she didn't quite comprehend that. In her experience things didn't 'slip out' unless they were meant to.
'You weren't trying to keep him with you, were you?' she asked with disapproval. 'A man must look after his business, Elise. It isn't a matter of putting it first, before you. He has to take care of it to enable him to take care of you. It would be childish to expect him to drop more important matters because you feel a little unwell and lonely.'
'It wasn't that,' Elise said. She was tempted to pour out the whole story, but the ready sympathy that Katherine had shown before was slowly evaporating, and confiding in her mother was a habit that had long since been discouraged. Failures and failings were in Katherine's mind something to be overcome by willpower and common sense, not grounds for an overdose of sympathy which only led to wallowing in one's problems instead of , solving them. It was a philosophy that had distinct advantages but suffered a little from its lack of flexibility and a certain dearth of tenderness.
'You look better, now,' she said, and taking her cue, Elise sat up, swinging her legs to the floor.
'I'm all right,' she said bravely, although her temples still felt a little clammy and her hands tingled. Her mother despised weakness. 'I don't understand,' she said shakily, 'how Shard comes to be involved in this. The company is independent.'
'Your father explained it last night,' Katherine told her. 'Although I have to admit that I can't understand it completely either. He assumes I know the meaning of a lot of terms just because I've taken an intelligent interest in the business over the years, but I have to admit to you that half the time I'm saying, "Yes, dear, and what about the fixed share income?" I'm really thinking with half my mind of something else. Howard says all the companies are interrelated in some way through investments and loans, and that Shard is not to be blamed because the corporation was regarded as quite safe by most of the business community. The collapse has come as a tremendous shock—caused through over-confidence and over-investment, Howard said, and too much diversification into too many industries, whatever that means.'
'It means that Shard may lose everything that he's worked so hard for,' Elise said bitterly.
'Well, if the worst .comes to the worst,' Katherine told her, 'Howard will make a job for Shard in the company. We decided on that last night.'
How Shard would hate that charity, Elise thought dispassionately. Aloud, she said, 'That's generous. Thank you.'
'Not at all. I won't have my daughter's husband going cap in hand to other people, asking for work.'
Elise winced. 'If he's bankrupt,' she said, 'We may be owing money. For a long time, perhaps.'
Unexpectedly, her mother patted her hand. 'It may not come to that. Howard says Shard's reputation is excellent, and he may well be able to pull the business out of all this, after all. I must admit that at first I was inclined to blame him, and blame ourselves for letting you marry him --'
'You couldn't have stopped me, Mother!'
'Well, be that as it may, I think your duty now is to stick by your husband and help him as much as you can until he's on his feet again.'
'Yes, of course,' said Elise, and looked curiously at her mother. 'You didn't think I would leave him, did you?'
'I'm sure you know better than that,' Katherine said austerely. 'But I do think that this marriage is perhaps a little—self-indulgent. You and Shard have very little in common, after all, and you must admit that he has accustomed you to having whatever you want. I should be disappointed if you faltered in your duty because times are less good than they were. I know that Shard attracted you a little, before you married Peter, but you very sensibly saw that that kind of attraction was superficial without a solid background, such as Peter could give you. Then when Shard asked you to marry him, you found you could have your cake and eat it, too, and I was pleased for you. But now you are going to find your marriage will be a severe test of your moral courage. I'm sure you'll stand up to it well, as you did to Peter's death.'
Weakly, Elise said, 'I—certainly hope so.' So her mother thought sexual attraction was all that bound her to Shard. How strange and rather frightening it was that someone who might have been closer than any other person on earth understood so little about her own daughter.
The doctor was congratulatory and a little concerned. 'In view of your history,' he told her, 'you must be extra careful. Eat sensibly and get plenty of rest. I'll give you some iron pills, too, which will help to stop these fainting turns, I hope. And I'll want to see you often. Nurse will give you an appointment.'
Her mother, who had insisted on accompanying her, was briskly solicitous, and Elise found that she rather enjoyed the unaccustomed pampering.
When her father was told the news that evening, she was touched at the warmth of the hug he gave her as he congratulated her. For a little while she pushed to the back of her mind the apprehension that flickered every time they mentioned Shard's name. It wasn't possible, she told herself, that he could really believe the baby might not be his. She refused to seriously think about it.
CHAPTER TEN
When Shard came home Elise was waiting for him. She had been waiting for a long time, not knowing what time to expect him, and since she had not heard from him, unwilling to phone the airport and ask if they could tell her. If he had wanted her to know, she supposed that he would have contacted her. About the possibility of his not coming at all, she wouldn't let herself think. He had said he would return today. She waited.
It was late in the afternoon when she heard his key in the lock. She stood up from the chair where she had been trying to read, and listened as he entered the flat. There was a long pause, then she heard him put down his bag on the hall floor and begin slowly walking to the lounge.
He stood in the doorway and she saw that he was exhausted, his eyes dull with tiredness and his skin almost grey. He even seemed to sway a little as he stood there, and put up a hand to steady himself against the wooden frame of the door.
'You're here,' he said, his voice husky and toneless with weariness.
'Where else would I be?' she asked him.
He shook his head and his lips moved, but she wasn't sure if the movement was a smile.
She said, 'You're tired. Shard. Have you had any sleep?'
'Not much,' he answered dully. 'About --' he frowned as though trying to recall. 'About—six hours since I left, I think.'
He straightened and seemed to gather himself, his eyes so intent on her face that Elise felt he was making a tremendous effort to concentrate and focus them on her instead of closing them. 'We have to talk,' he said slowly. 'I must talk to you.'
She moved towards him. 'No
t now,' she said gently. 'You're dead on your feet. Shard. You must go to bed.'
He pushed his dark hair back off his forehead and said irritably, 'I'm all right. I want to talk to you.' He shook his head as if to clear it, and Elise said firmly,
'You're not all right, and I won't listen until you've had a sleep. You can't think straight, now, anyway. Anyone could see that.'
'Oh, God, you're right,' he admitted.
She took his arm, encouraging him to the bedroom, but he suddenly gripped her shoulders so fiercely that she winced, holding her in front of him so that she didn't know if he meant to push her away or pull her close to him. Behind the film of exhaustion in his eyes something else leaped and died.
'I don't need your help,' he said briefly. 'I'll manage.'
She watched him go into the bedroom, and ten minutes later followed him. He was lying on top of the bed, had taken off his shoes and nothing else. He was sleeping deeply.
She eased off his tie and undid two buttons of his shirt, but she couldn't move his dead weight to remove, his jacket. She got a spare blanket and covered him with it. He didn't stir, his face relaxed and younger in sleep, the firm line of his mouth softened and the pallor of exhaustion now receding.
Elise picked up his bag from the hallway and moved quietly about, unpacking and putting away his things, taking the soiled clothes to the small laundry off the kitchen. It would have taken a cataclysm to waken him, she thought. She took the phone off the hook all the same. There had been several enquiries for him today, and she knew now that the callers were probably from the news media. So far Shard had made no statements, and she was sure he wasn't eager to talk to any reporters.
She inspected the contents of the freezer and made a casserole, a hearty savoury dish that could be heated and .eaten whenever he decided to wake.
When he did, it was dark, and she was lying beside him. She had showered and put on a flimsy belted' robe, and turned on the bedside lamp without disturbing him, and tried to read.
