by Anne Mather
Fortunately Cassandra seemed unaware of his problems. Evidently she had problems of her own, and he wondered what sudden catastrophe could have precipitated this foray into the enemy’s camp. For she clearly had no heart in what she was doing, and could only have been persuaded by somebody else. Who? Her partner? Her mother-in-law? Liz Lester? His mouth took on a downward slant. He doubted it. Liz Lester would not encourage their relationship.
‘Won’t you take off your coat?’ he enquired now, with forced politeness. ‘Can I get you a drink? Some coffee?’
‘I don’t want anything.’ Cassandra stood in the centre of the huge Persian carpet, looking about her as if she hoped she might find some safe bolthole into which to crawl. Her fingers moved to the frogged fastening of her cape almost convulsively, and then took several nerve-racking moments to release the toggles. She concentrated on the task with apparently total absorption, and Jay’s own nerves tightened as the minutes stretched. But at last the cape was free, and she slipped it off her shoulders, allowing it to fall gracefully on to the couch beside his parka.
Earlier, he had drawn the heavy velvet curtains across the long windows, and now they formed a dark backcloth to her pale beauty. She was wearing a cream suede dress, fringed at the hem and loosely knotted at the waist with a leather thong. Brown suede boots hid the remainder of her legs, but his eyes were drawn to the stark pallor of her features. She had never looked so frail before, but equally, she had never looked more vulnerable.
‘Sit down.’ He straightened away from the door, his voice curt and insensitive, an unconscious effort to destroy the effect she was having on him, and she shook her head in vigorous negation.
‘I—I prefer to stand,’ she said tautly, and with an indifferent shrug Jay strolled across the carpet.
He was badly in need of a drink, he realised irritably, and it took an effort not to let the bottle of Scotch clatter against his glass. ‘Well?’ he said, after swallowing half what he had poured. ‘Won’t you come to the point? I assume there is a point, or you wouldn’t be here.’
‘You’re so right.’ Cassandra spoke vehemently, unknowingly fuelling his resentment. Then, almost as if she was playing for time, she added: ‘This is a beautiful apartment.’
‘I like it.’ Jay spoke carelessly. ‘The fruits of a misspent youth, you might say.’
‘Did you misspend your youth?’ Cassandra turned to him in unexpected enquiry, and Jay’s patience snapped.
‘For God’s sake, Cass,’ he grated, ‘you didn’t come here to ask about my youth. What do you want? Who has forced you to come here, when you would so obviously rather be elsewhere?’
Cassandra pressed her palms together in an unconscious gesture of supplication. ‘Is it so obvious?’
‘To me—yes.’
‘I see.’ Cassandra glanced about her abstractedly. ‘You’re right, of course. I didn’t want to come here.’
Jay’s jaw was taut. ‘Are you enjoying this, Cass? Do you get some selfish pleasure out of making me sick with frustration? For God’s sake, what do you have to tell me? Is it you? Are you ill or something?’ His lips twisted. ‘Or is it money? Do you find you’re rather short on funds, and think I might be good for a loan?’
‘No.’ Cassandra stared at him urgently, her knuckles white with the pressure she was putting on them.
‘Then what is it?’ Jay raised his eyes heavenward. ‘What do you want from me? What can you conceivably have to say to me?’
‘Can’t you guess?’ Cassandra took a deep breath. ‘I—I’d have rather dealt with this in my own way, but—but Thea insisted you should be told. You see—I’m pregnant!’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THERE was complete silence in the apartment after she had uttered the words, and Cassandra knew an aching sense of relief for having told him at last. It was not what she had wanted to do. She would have much preferred to deal with her pregnancy in her own way. But Thea had insisted, and she had eventually given in.
‘I don’t agree that a child belongs solely to its mother,’ she had told Cassandra quietly. ‘Just because a woman has the task of bearing the child around in her body for nine months it doesn’t make it any more hers than the father’s. Jay has a right to be told. Whatever his faults, he deserves to be given the facts, whether or not he agrees with your decision.’
‘But I don’t want a baby!’ Cassandra had exclaimed fiercely, and Thea had heaved a deep sigh.
‘No one can make you do what you don’t want, Cass,’ she had said gently. ‘Just don’t make any reckless decisions, until you’ve spoken to Jay.’
‘I won’t marry him, you know,’ Cassandra had persisted. ‘It—it could even be someone else’s baby. He’ll never know for sure.’
‘But you know, and I know,’ averred Thea flatly. ‘And he also knows you’re not the kind of girl who sleeps around.’
‘But what’s the point of telling him?’ Cassandra had protested. ‘Thea, if you think there’s going to be some romantic reconciliation, you couldn’t be more wrong. Jay—Jay’s not the type to want a wife and baby hanging round his neck, and so far as I’m concerned the whole affair is an absolute fiasco!’
Liz had been characteristically scornful. Cassandra had not even intended to tell her friend; but the other girl had arrived at her flat one morning to find Cassandra being violently sick, and her woman’s intuition had supplied the solution.
‘Jay Ravek!’ she had said, with cold disparagement. ‘Oh, Cass, really, how could you?’
But curiously, Cassandra had not wanted to discuss the matter with Liz, and she had declared somewhat recklessly that she was not going to have the baby. Liz had approved, and since then the subject had been sacrosanct between them.
Now she saw that Jay was pouring himself another drink, and to avoid watching him, she looked round the room. It really was a beautiful apartment, she thought enviously. The comfortable velvet sofas were set at right angles to a carved chimneypiece, the walls were plain and hung with Impressionist paintings, and the jewel-patterned carpet was thick and soft and expensive.
‘You’re sure?’ Jay was speaking to her now, and Cassandra forced herself to meet his intent gaze.
‘Quite sure.’
Jay swallowed the remainder of the liquid in his glass and replaced it on the tray, his expression dark and brooding. It had evidently been quite a shock to him, and she wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he would think she had come here for money, after all. Abortions could be expensive, and she had no doubt that that was how he would suggest she solve the problem.
Of course, her situation would probably give him a spurious kind of satisfaction. If he recalled how he had once offered to marry her, this development should appeal to his sense of humour. She was glad she needed nothing from him, she thought fiercely. The humiliation of asking for his help would have been an ignominy indeed.
Realising she had done what she came to do, she turned and reached for her cape, but his voice arrested her. ‘What are you doing?’
Cassandra cast him a wary look. ‘I’m going,’ she replied huskily. ‘I’ve told you now. There’s nothing more to be said.’
‘Oh, isn’t there?’ Jay covered the space between them in a couple of seconds. ‘You can’t expect to come here and tell me something like this and then walk out again without any further explanation!’
‘What further explanation is necessary?’ Cassandra tilted her chin. ‘I’m pregnant. I didn’t want to be, but I am. And now I’ve informed you of the fact, as Thea insisted.’
Jay’s eyes glittered. ‘You haven’t told me what you want from me.’
‘What I want from you?’ Cassandra shook her head. ‘I don’t believe I said I wanted anything from you.’
Jay clenched his fists. ‘Don’t play with words, Cass. What are you going to do? How are you going to have the baby? You’ll have to give up your job—–’
‘Now wait a minute!’ Cassandra drew a choking breath. ‘I—I haven’t said I’m going t
o have the baby yet—–’
Jay’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘Then why have you come here?’
‘I—I’ve told you, Thea insisted. She—she said you had a right to know—–’
‘And she was right.’ Jay’s expression was grim.
‘I don’t see why.’ Cassandra shifted uncertainly. ‘I—it’s not your problem.’
His lips twisted. ‘So what’s your solution? An abortion?’
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I—I don’t know.’ Until that moment, she had not realised how uncertain she really was. Informing Liz that that was her intention had been an act of bravado. To actually contemplate the act of destroying the life that was growing inside her made her feel physically sick.
‘Is this some clever ploy?’ Jay asked suddenly, and her eyes widened.
‘A ploy?’ she echoed. ‘I—I don’t—–’
‘If it’s marriage you want, then why don’t you say so?’ he demanded. ‘At least, be honest with me—–’
‘Honest with you!’ Cassandra knew an angry sense of humiliation. ‘Now look here—I didn’t want to come here, I didn’t want to tell you, I knew how objectionable you would be! As—as for suggesting I might be angling for a proposal—–’ She broke off emotionally, and had to control her tremulous voice before continuing: ‘I—my God! You’re so conceited!’
‘Not conceited, only practical,’ he retorted heavily, and she groped blindly for her cape, needing to get away from him. ‘What was your intention then? To make me suffer?’
‘To make you suffer?’ Cassandra paused to shake her head. ‘How could I make you suffer, Jay? You can’t pretend you care, one way or the other.’
‘And if I do?’
‘But—but—–’ Cassandra stumbled over her words, ‘—it was an accident, a—a physical error. I mean—I never dreamt, I never thought—–’ She twisted her hands together. ‘After Mike—–’
‘After Mike, what?’ he probed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the pill.’
‘Of course I’ve heard of it.’ Cassandra was crimson. ‘But I’ve never used it.’
‘No?’
‘No. It—it wasn’t necessary. I mean—well, it was so rarely—–’
‘All right, you don’t have to go on.’ Jay heaved a sigh. ‘I get the picture. Roland told you you were frigid, and you believed him.’
Cassandra moistened her dry lips and said, almost bemusedly: ‘In five years—in five years—–’
Jay’s mouth took on a faintly mocking slant. ‘It only takes one night, Cass.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t—you hadn’t—–’ He broke off when he saw he was embarrassing her still further, and added quietly: ‘How long have you known?’
Cassandra hesitated. ‘Does it matter?’ Then, aware of his lowering expression: ‘For certain—two weeks.’
‘Two weeks!’ His eyes were calculating. ‘I wonder what you would have done if you hadn’t come here?’
She shrugged. ‘I’d have managed.’
‘Really?’ Jay took a deep breath. ‘Well, you can relax. I will marry you, as no doubt your mother-in-law hoped I would—–’
‘What?’ Cassandra drew back from him in dismay. ‘I—I don’t want to marry you. I—I don’t want to marry anyone.’
‘Then you shouldn’t get yourself into this kind of a predicament, should you?’ he remarked caustically. ‘You forget, I’m not as naïve as you are. I know about abortions. I’ve seen what can happen. Believe me, you wouldn’t like it.’
Cassandra trembled. ‘You’ve had that much experience?’ she taunted bitterly.
‘In the course of my work, yes,’ he retorted harshly. ‘For God’s sake, Cass, you don’t think I make a habit of this! What kind of a monster do you think I am?’
She bent her head. ‘It’s my decision. You can’t make up my mind for me.’
‘No, I can’t,’ he agreed tautly. ‘But I do tend to think that if you’d intended doing something about it, you’d have done it before now.’
‘These things take time to arrange,’ protested Cassandra, but Jay merely folded his arms and regarded her with mild contempt. ‘In any case, I—I could have the baby without involving you.’
‘But you won’t,’ declared Jay coldly. ‘You forget, I know all about being born a bastard, and I have no intention of allowing any son—or daughter—of mine to suffer the same fate.’
Cassandra sought wildly for a means of escape. This wasn’t what she wanted. To be tied in matrimony to a man who was only marrying her to legitimise their baby was worse than admitting his previous proposal. At least, then, he had wanted her. Now, he coldbloodedly admitted his detachment.
She felt sick. All of a sudden the strain of sustaining this argument in her condition began to take its toll. So far, apart from the morning bouts of nausea, which were pretty ghastly while they lasted, she had felt reasonably healthy, but her weakness today stemmed from the fact that she had eaten no lunch. She felt quite lightheaded looking up at him, and shaking her head, she sank down upon the sofa.
‘Are you all right?’
The concern in Jay’s voice was disturbing, and she felt ridiculously near to tears. Dear God, she couldn’t be ill here, she thought sickly, as a film of sweat broke out upon her forehead. She didn’t want his sympathy, artificial as it would be. She should have allowed Thea to come with her, as her mother-in-law had suggested. To face Jay alone had proved too much for her.
Jay was looking down at her with apparent anxiety, and although she was sure it was false, she felt herself responding to it. ‘I—I just felt a little dizzy,’ she admitted, gripping the arm of the sofa, and then lost the remainder of her colour as she slumped across the cushions.
Cassandra had never fainted in her life, but when she opened her eyes, she realised that that was what must have happened. She was lying down now, on one of the comfortable sofas, a soft velvet pillow cushioning her head; and Jay was squatting beside her.
‘You’re not all right,’ he muttered impatiently, as she became aware of his presence, and in those first few seconds between unconsciousness and total awareness, Cassandra’s heart leapt at the urgency of his tone.
‘I—am fine, honestly,’ she assured him, trying to sit up, but his hand on her shoulder urged her back. ‘I’m perfectly healthy,’ she protested, her voice gathering strength. ‘I—I just didn’t eat any lunch today, and—and I suppose I’m hungry.’ She coloured. ‘I do get hungry more readily, and—and not at the most convenient times.’
Jay straightened, pushing his hands into the hip pockets of his slacks as he looked down at her. The action tautened the material across his thighs, drawing her unwilling attention to the powerful muscles outlined beneath the cloth. It reminded her of the intimacy they had once shared, and although she dragged her eyes away, she could not deny that physically he had lost none of his appeal. It was so unfair, she thought bitterly, resenting his detachment. He was just as much to blame for her condition, yet he was not in danger of becoming fat and ugly.
‘I’ll get you something to eat,’ he said, glancing at his watch, but Cassandra shook her head.
‘There’s no need, thank you. I—I’d prefer to go home.’ She determinedly swung her feet to the floor. ‘If you would just call me a taxi—–’
‘Not yet.’ Jay seated himself on the sofa opposite, his legs spread wide, his hands hanging loosely between. ‘We have to talk. There are arrangements to be made. Not least, when you’re going to marry me.’
Cassandra moved her shoulders in a helpless gesture. ‘You don’t want to marry me—–’
‘I suggest we do it soon,’ he continued, almost as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘As a matter of fact, it coincides very well with certain plans I’ve made.’
‘Plans?’ Cassandra was bewildered. ‘Jay, why are you doing this?’
He got up from the couch and walked across the room. ‘I’m leaving the Post,’ he said, pushing his hands back into his pockets. No
t, as I once told you, to join a television network, but to give myself time to write a book.’
‘A book?’ She gazed blankly at him.
‘Yes, a book,’ he agreed drily. ‘It’s not as outrageous as it sounds. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for some time and lately—well, lately, I’ve got a little bored with the kind of life I’ve been leading.’
Cassandra shook her head. ‘And you expect me to help you?’
‘No.’ He gave her a wry grimace. ‘All I’m saying is, I’ve had it in mind to buy—or lease—a house outside London. Somewhere in—Oxfordshire, perhaps. Somewhere quiet, where I wouldn’t get too many visitors.’
Cassandra wetted her lips. ‘You—you can’t imagine I—–’
‘—would leave London, too? Oh, yes.’ Jay was positive. ‘I would say, in your condition, it was an ideal arrangement.’
‘You’re crazy!’
‘Why?’
‘It may have slipped your notice, but I have a career of my own.’
He inclined his head. ‘It’s your own company. Take some time off.’
Cassandra gasped. ‘I can’t. There only are the two of us.’
‘I’m sure Allen could find someone else.’
She couldn’t take this in. ‘You don’t seriously—–’
‘Oh, yes, I do.’ Jay was very serious as he walked back to stand looking down at her. ‘I have no intention of leaving you here and running the risk of your having a miscarriage.’
‘I can take care of myself!’ Cassandra was indignant.
‘Can you?’ Jay was sceptical.
‘Yes.’
She got abruptly to her feet, but as she did so the room revolved alarmingly. She swayed, and immediately Jay’s arms caught her, drawing her against him, his fingers at her waist steadying her until the awful giddiness passed.
