Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  ‘Grace says he’s not married.’

  ‘I know that for a certainty, but I don’t know much more. He has a flat in Kennington and he takes great store by that Porsche monstrosity of his!’

  She laughed at that, and it was nice to hear. However, Dougie was worried about her questioning. He could pick up vibes as well as the next person and he was aware that this protection job was not the ordinary run of the mill. Alex’s abilities wouldn’t be wasted by putting him in charge of something this routine, and Alex’s own instructions to both him and Carl was enough to flag up the idea that this job was a little out of the ordinary. Dougie surmised that it was something to do with Judge Franklin. Had he been a naughty boy in some way? He couldn’t say that he had made a very favourable impression, and he didn’t like the way he treated his niece. It seemed ridiculous to think that Catherine herself was being investigated, and he couldn’t imagine Alex making use of any relationship with her to try to get information. He had never impressed Dougie as being that sort of person. Nevertheless, it would be as well to warn her in some way.

  ‘Catherine, I’m a good deal older than you, so is Alex, and we have also seen a lot more of the nastier side of life that’s out there than you have. I suppose it makes us have a different view of things at times, and this can be misconstrued. We might give an impression that was not quite the truth. We’ll be gone out of your lives in a week or so, and things will get back to normal. In a month or two you’ll be laughing about it as a bit of an adventure.’

  He could see she knew what he was trying to say, but he also knew from the look in those remarkable green eyes that it was far too late.

  *

  Catherine made sure she kept out of Alex’s way that night, although she would much rather have been able to speak to him. She wanted to prove to him that she was grown up enough to put the problems of the other day behind her; but, mindful of Dougie’s warning, felt it better to keep a low profile.

  She had no way of knowing that Alex himself was endeavouring to bump into her but resisted the temptation to knock on her door. As Sunday was his day off, it was Monday morning before she saw him again.

  She was dressed in work mode in a black suit with a white high-necked jumper. Her hair was caught back in a loose ponytail tied with a black velvet ribbon. She had decided to take her large black leather handbag with her, as she would be bringing back papers from her research at the British Museum. She went into her office to run through her uncle’s notes again to make sure that she knew what it was he required. The weather was blustery and rain was promised for later, but she felt she couldn’t cope with an umbrella and would have to chance it.

  She heard Arthur manoeuvre the Rolls out of the garage and went out into the hall. Alex stood there by the front door, looking his usual handsome self in a dark navy suit and tie. As always, she felt a quick surge of excitement when she saw him. He turned towards her when he heard her footsteps, and his eyes swept over her in a quick, appreciative glance. She was aware of a sense of pleasure inside her that he found her attractive. She felt comfortable under his gaze and not threatened in any way, unlike the other men… but she mustn’t relive those memories again.

  ‘Good morning, Catherine. You’re looking much better.’

  ‘I’m feeling much better, thank you, Alex,’ she replied. All very formal, she thought, apart from the Christian names, but she would settle for that.

  The drive into town was quite silent. Arthur dropped her off outside the Museum and agreed that they should pick her up at the same place at five-thirty, and she was told to be on time.

  *

  The promised rain came with a vengeance and brought the wind with it. The normal evening rush hour traffic was even worse on a day like this, and the Rolls was running late. As they pulled into the kerb, Arthur was looking for Catherine.

  ‘I can’t see her anywhere, Inspector. Can you?’

  There was an exasperated tutting sound from the Judge in the back seat, then with relief Alex spotted her sheltering from the rain in a doorway, camouflaged in her dark suit. At the same time she saw the Rolls and started to move towards them through the wind and rain swirling around the buildings.

  As a security precaution, because the Rolls was stationary, Alex kept a sharp look in the side mirror. It was for this reason he became aware of the situation about to occur. He catapulted himself out of the car and ran the few steps towards Catherine’s slight figure, lifting her off her feet. One of London’s notorious cycle couriers was approaching, head down against the wind on a collision course, and Alex knew who would come off worse in any impact. At the last moment the courier saw the danger and veered away. Alex’s strength managed to save them from falling, and once he regained his balance he looked down at Catherine, still held in his arms. Her eyes were wide with shock and he could feel her trembling. His hands were around her waist inside her jacket and he could feel the heat from her body through the thin material of the jumper. With care he set her down on her feet, still retaining his hold.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  He realised she had thought that the dire warnings he gave her the other night about being accosted in the street had come true.

  ‘You were about to be mown down by a damn courier cyclist,’ he explained. ‘You couldn’t see each other in this weather.’

  Some of the shock was leaving her face, but she wasn’t trying to free herself from his grasp.

  In a gentle voice he said to her, ‘You know we’re getting soaking wet!’

  Now pink with embarrassment, she began to pull free.

  ‘Have you dropped anything?’

  ‘Er… no, I have my bag and that’s all.’

  He steered her to the waiting car and helped her into the back seat. He tried to shake off some of the water from his coat and hair before he got into the front. There would be a few wet patches to be mopped up in the car tonight!

  Arthur pulled the Rolls away from the kerb and turned to him. ‘How on earth did you see that about to happen. I’d looked in the rear view mirror but I didn’t spot that idiot.’

  ‘It’s my job, I suppose,’ Alex said, attempting to dismiss the whole thing. No doubt the Judge would have another moan about him exceeding his allotted duties, but what the hell!

  The Judge did moan, but not to Alex. ‘I suppose all my papers are now soaking wet.’

  ‘No, they are safe in my bag. That’s why I took this with me.’ Catherine brushed the wet hair out of her face and rummaged in her bag and brought out a large envelope and handed it to him. After a moment or two perusing the contents, the Judge smiled and murmured ‘Excellent! Excellent! Well done, my dear.’

  In the front, Alex and Arthur looked at each other with raised eyebrows. That was a first!

  Although Arthur put the heater on in the car, because of the weather it was still quite cool by the time they reached Richmond. Without a further word the Judge disappeared into his study.

  Alex turned to Catherine in the hallway. ‘I’d get upstairs out of those wet things and have a hot bath if I were you, before you catch your death of cold.’

  ‘Yes, I will. You need to as well,’ she added.

  ‘I’ll wait until I get home, I think,’ Alex said with a calculated wicked smile, and watched with interest as the colour appeared again in her cheeks as she realised his meaning.

  However, she gathered herself together enough to meet his gaze, and with a slight smile said, ‘Thank you for what you did today.’ She then turned away up the stairs.

  Watching her go, Alex had to put a brake on his wild thoughts.

  *

  ‘Well, as I thought, Geoffrey, we seem to be in luck with my research. I now have all the information in front of me and I’ll bring it up at the right time. I think it should do the trick enough for the sentence to be reduced. Not by much, but enough to appease Clarke and keep him on o
ur side and in our pocket.’

  ‘Good work, Lionel.’ Geoffrey Villiers breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I wouldn’t want to report to Clarke with any other news. With this letter business, though, won’t it seem funny if you throw a spanner in the works?’

  Franklin’s smile was without warmth. ‘Don’t worry, Geoffrey, the courts are used to me by now; this won’t seem very much out of the ordinary. Remind Clarke not to tell Atkinson anything yet. We don’t want him appearing smug during the rest of the case. Make sure you get Clarke’s agreed payment to us.’

  ‘I might contact him tonight, Lionel. Get it over with. By the way, I heard from Gregory that young Duncan got in a mess the other night.’

  Franklin sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his desk.

  ‘Typical of the young idiot to try something in the wrong place. Hartman became quite out of order about it. Time he was put in his place. When I meet up with you and Gregory at the reception tomorrow night, I’ll explain in more detail.’

  CHAPTER 13

  The night of the Embassy reception was dry but there was a cool wind. Catherine took her time about getting ready. It seemed important tonight for everything to be just right. Grace had offered to help but Catherine wanted to be quiet, on her own. She didn’t wear much makeup but tonight she emphasised her green eyes, which made them appear softer. She put a creamy pearl colour on her nails and used a matching lipstick.

  Her dress was on a hanger on the wardrobe door. A slim column of pale coffee-coloured silk covered with chiffon drapes in the same colour, edged in satin. The thin straps to the low, square-cut bodice were almost invisible and she was glad the chiffon would cover her. She had never felt confident or at ease with clothes that displayed her figure. A soft cream shawl was lying over her bedside chair.

  Her glossy dark brown hair was soon piled up into what she hoped appeared to be an artless creation of curls: her attempt at a more sophisticated look. Looking at her reflection she noticed that it made her neck seem long and slim, and quite liked the result.

  Time was now getting on, and she must finish dressing. After a little struggle when she thought she would have to call Grace, she managed to get into her gown. It curved around her slim shape, and the chiffon billowed as she moved, softening the outline.

  She heard the sound of the Porsche arriving and felt the sudden quickening of her pulse. What would he make of her tonight, she wondered? And admitted to herself that this was the reason for her extra care.

  She sat down at her dressing table to put on her silver sandals. She had just put on the small diamante earrings and was applying another coat of lipstick when she heard her uncle calling to her. For a moment she sat still, almost frozen with nerves, then hearing her name called again she scooped up her small silver bag and hurried out of the room before she could change her mind.

  *

  For someone who was about to experience a pleasant social evening, the Judge seemed to be in a bad mood. Alex arrived to relieve Dougie and found Arthur in a state of exasperation with his employer over certain supposed sartorial shortcomings, which didn’t amount to very much at all, it appeared. Alex tried to sooth his ruffled feathers, as he would be driving the Rolls soon in heavy traffic, which he himself had just encountered. He had wasted time by going back into his flat for his dark overcoat once he had experienced the chill of the evening. He suggested Arthur should start up the Rolls and get the heater working.

  He was standing in the hall near the front door when the Judge came out of his study in evening dress, looking at his watch.

  ‘Where is the girl? Its time we went!’ He moved to the bottom of the stairs and called her name. He paced up and down for a moment, and when there was no response he called out again, ‘Catherine, I’m leaving right now!’ and stormed off out to the car.

  Alex heard a door bang upstairs and turned to see Catherine hurrying down the staircase. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. From the top of her piled curls, through the slim column of her figure surrounded by billowing folds of chiffon, to the small silver feet he saw beneath the hem of her dress, she looked unbelievable – pure loveliness.

  She moved past him without a look, although he was sure she was aware of him. He caught the familiar fragrance of her perfume. Following her outside he held the car door open and saw her seated inside. As he was taking his seat and the Rolls moved off, he wondered why she didn’t have some sort of coat. She would be cold on a night like this. It was fortunate that at least the Rolls was warm.

  He noticed that the Judge made no mention of his niece’s appearance, which was, at the very least, impolite. It was obvious she had taken some trouble to achieve the sophistication she thought right for the occasion. As he knew himself, to arrive at a function with a beautiful woman was always an asset for any man.

  The Embassy was a blaze of light when they arrived. Again the Judge annoyed Alex by marching out of the car and heading up the steps, not waiting for Catherine. Alex assisted her out of the car himself, and followed her into the foyer. She turned to him with a small smile of thanks just as what he took to be a junior French diplomat arrived to usher them into the reception. Alex watched the slim figure retreat and regretted the fact that he himself would not be spending the evening in her company.

  He went to find the head of the security detail for the Embassy and spent some minutes going over their arrangements. It was then a waiting game. He loitered around the foyer and then went outside to find where Arthur had parked the Rolls and to offer him a break.

  On going back to the foyer once Arthur had returned, Alex was surprised to see the Judge coming towards him.

  ‘Inspector, there has been a slight change of plan for the rest of the evening,’ began the Judge. ‘I will be going with two associates from here back to the Club, and I would like you to take my niece back to Richmond.’

  ‘I should be accompanying you to the Club, Judge,’ Alex replied, annoyed at this sudden alteration to the arrangements.

  ‘Well, I’m sure there will be no trouble, as the decision has just this minute been made. Catherine has to get home somehow, and as you seem to have a particular aversion to seeing her travel alone at this time of night…’, he smiled. ‘Yes, I am aware you collected her the other evening when the Rolls was out of order. I thought you would be the first to assist as an escort.’

  Alex wanted to make some retort, but took in the raised eyebrow of amused sarcasm and held his tongue.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do about providing you with some sort of cover. What time will you be leaving?’

  ‘Oh, about an hour, I should say.’ With that the Judge turned on his heel and walked away.

  Alex was seething. What the hell was he going to do? He knew that Carl had a day off and was in Norfolk somewhere. He could try Dougie and see if he was prepared to turn out again; or he could, as the Judge indicated, just leave him on his own. This, however, was the very occasion when something was bound to happen. He asked for the use of a telephone and rang Dougie, who, after he’d explained the situation, agreed to take over the duty again. He told Alex he would get a taxi to the Embassy and charge it on expenses.

  When he arrived they discussed between them the best course of action. It was agreed that Dougie, more at his insistence because, as he commented with a laugh, he had gone to the effort of getting dressed up again, should go with the Judge, and Alex would indeed take Catherine home. When Dougie arrived back at Richmond with the Judge he could go home again and Alex would stay until Carl relieved him in the morning. The Porsche was at the house anyway, and Dougie seemed quite happy with the arrangement. He could have another taxi ride home! Alex asked him to brief Arthur about the changes.

  In a short while the Judge appeared with two other men. They all seemed very jovial together. It looked as if the hospitality had been exceptional, thought Alex.

  As they were getting
into their coats the Judge looked at him. ‘All sorted out are we?’

  ‘Yes, Judge. Sergeant Johnson will accompany you to the Club and back to Richmond. I will, as you have requested, take Miss Franklin home.’

  ‘Excellent, Inspector.’

  To his amazement, an out-of-character broad smile was bestowed on him. The hospitality must indeed have been splendid, thought Alex once again; but then, it was the French Embassy. He’d made do with a snatched cup of coffee.

  As the Judge and his party departed, it seemed that everyone was heading home. He wondered if Catherine had been told of the change of arrangements and what she thought. After a few moments he saw her coming down the main staircase on the arm of a distinguished grey-haired man. With a sick feeling in his stomach he acknowledged how appropriate she looked in this kind of setting. Her beauty and natural poise were made for this grand living, and all her education had been geared to it. He experienced an empty coldness building up inside him, like the sun going behind a cloud. He realised that he had to face it: she was not meant for the likes of him, however much, he now admitted to himself, he wanted it otherwise.

  Nowadays she never left his thoughts, and he longed for more of her company. The truth was now obvious to him. As his mind registered the fact, the pleasure of that knowledge was bittersweet. He could never have her. He must stop thinking along those lines, now, before it was too late. He had to attempt to carry on as before and concentrate on his duty, however hard he now knew it would be.

  She came towards him, still on this man’s arm, whoever he was. Despite all his efforts, Alex felt an almost physical wave of envy against the man for having had the pleasure of this beautiful young woman’s company all evening.

  As if echoing his thoughts, the man spoke to him in accented English. ‘It is with great regret that I hand this charming lady over to you. I too would be glad to escort her home.’ He kissed one of Catherine’s small hands and placed it on Alex’s arm, and then retreated back up the staircase. Startled, Alex looked down at the hand on his arm and then looked up at her face. She seemed quite calm, but her eyes were very bright.