Chains of Regret

by Margaret Pargeter

  ‘All morning?’ Helen frowned enquiringly.

  ‘It’s in all the papers. Didn’t you know?’

  Confused, Helen shook her head. ‘Stein’s away…’

  Gary nodded. ‘Yes, I’ve just seen him. I was seeing a friend off at Heathrow and he was getting on the same plane, complete with glamorous’ secretary. I envied him both you and her, I can tell you!’

  Helen was so startled she couldn’t hide her dismay.

  ‘Didn’t he mention it?’ Gary asked smoothly.

  She recovered herself quickly. ‘Stein travels a lot. He probably did tell me and I forgot. I’ve had so much to think about.’

  The last was true, at least, and if Gary didn’t believe the rest, he didn’t actually say so.

  ‘No wonder he was annoyed when he thought you might be transferring your affections to me,’ he laughed.

  ‘I wanted to apologise about that evening, I’m afraid I didn’t show up very well, but when I tried to ring and speak to you, Stein wouldn’t allow it.’

  ‘So that’s why you’re here today?’

  ‘Partly,’ he agreed. ‘I asked Beryl to come, but I think she’s still rather put out that you gave us no hint.’

  Helen shrugged, thinking it might be better to let this pass, rather than confess that she couldn’t have done, as she hadn’t known then herself.

  ‘I’m only asking you out for a drink,’ Gary smiled as she frowned, ‘I promise to behave myself.’

  Still feeling too nervous of Stein to accept, Helen decided to ask him in for one. Suddenly she welcomed anything or anyone who might help her to pass an hour or two, and she didn’t believe Stein could object to that.

  Surprisingly Gary seemed to quite like the idea of spending a lazy afternoon. before the fire, and eventually he stayed for tea. His company did prove a diversion and Helen felt warmly grateful as she saw him out. She was unable to tell him so, of course, as she was supposed to be a happily engaged girl.

  When he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her, as he was saying goodbye, she was briefly alarmed, but her gratitude was such that she recklessly kissed him in return.

  It was only a light kiss and she was defiant rather than frightened as the door closed behind Gary and she turned to find Mrs Swinden watching her from the back of the hall. She still didn’t care that much for Mrs Swinden, although the woman was a lot more pleasant than she had been. Helen, not usually vindictive, didn’t see why she should deny herself a little revenge. Owing to her changed status, Mrs Swinden wouldn’t dare mention to Stein that Gary had been here, and having to keep the information to herself might prove painfully frustrating!

  The therapeutic effect of Gary’s visit might have been good while it lasted, but as soon as he had gone Helen began thinking of Stein again. Going to her room, she flung herself miserably on her bed. Why hadn’t he told her he was going abroad? And who had he been with? Mrs Wilkinson would never have caught Gary’s eye.

  Had it been Barbara Bates? Helen wondered unhappily.

  She buried her face in her hands, realising it was futile to conjecture. It might have been anybody. Barbara would only be one of the many women Stein knew.

  And, whoever it was, she had no right to complain as he was, after all, a free agent. He had never pretended their engagement was real or that he loved her. It might even be better if he had fallen for another woman, Helen tried to persuade herself, then he might be willing to release her.

  Wearily she showered and went down to dinner. She was gazing with uninterest at the soup Hilary had set before her when the dining-room door opened and Mrs Swinden showed Donald Blyth in.

  If Helen had been surprised to see Gary Phillips, she was stunned when Donald walked in. She stared at him, her blue eyes dark with alarm, while feeling furious with Mrs Swinden. If Stein had been here, the housekeeper would never have dared do such a thing. Helen wondered wildly what she thought she was playing at.

  ‘I’m in the middle of my dinner,’ she said coldly, and, she thought, unnecessarily.

  Mrs Swinden cut in, just as Helen was about to ask her to take Mr. Blyth out again. ‘Mr. Blyth did say he was a very old friend.’

  ‘A hungry one too,’ Donald grinned.

  ‘As Mr. Maddison won’t be home tonight, there’s plenty to spare,’ Mrs Swinden assured her hurriedly.

  Helen glared, dismissing her. As Mrs Swinden quickly departed, she turned her full attention on Donald.

  Why had he come here? Stein had been right to warn her. ‘You may have forced your way in;’ she said furiously, ‘but you can’t stay!’

  He had the nerve to pull out a chair near her and sink into it. ‘Have a heart, Helen!’ he groaned. ‘I only want a word with you, I swear.’ Wearily he pushed a hand through his rumpled hair. ‘I’d like to know what’s going on. It’s been like a conspiracy. The man in your lodge wrongly directed me twice. I must have been half way round the entire South of England!’

  Unimpressed, Helen stared at him mutely. It didn’t seem possible, but he began hungrily eating a roll. He looked ruffled and pale but quite immovable. ‘I should get one of the other men to throw you out,’ she said crossly.

  ‘You wouldn’t be so cruel, darling,’ he pleaded, then, hastily, as her eyes flashed as he called her darling, ‘I know what you’re thinking, but I promise I’m not after news.’

  ‘Which is just as well,’ she snapped, ‘because you aren’t getting any.’

  He smiled wryly. ‘You used to be such a quiet little thing…’

  She had been—quiet and reserved. Underneath she still was, but she didn’t want Donald to know that.

  The cloak of confidence she sometimes managed to assume was merely a residue from the days when a touch of it had persuaded her father that she might yet make a good substitute for a son.

  ‘In those days you had no wish to plaster my name all over your paper!’ she said severely.

  His brows rose ruefully. ‘Why can’t I convince you it’s nothing like that I’ve come to see you about? Do you think I’d risk running foul of Stein Maddison for the sake of a few lines in a gossip column? I had to see you again to make sure I hadn’t a chance.’

  Hilary brought him in some soup and as she went out again, Helen frowned. ‘A chance?’

  ‘Sure,’ his face darkened and he surprisingly ignored the soup. ‘You mightn’t realise it, Helen, but I love you;’

  ‘Once you thought you did,’ she corrected dryly.

  ‘I did!’ he insisted, ‘but you didn’t want me. I thought I’d got over you, though, until I saw you again, then it all came back. It hit me that night like an avalanche. That’s why I have to be sure you aren’t making a mistake over Maddison.’

  Helen laughed hollowly at that. She had made more mistakes over Stein than she cared to remember, but they weren’t the kind of mistakes Donald was talking of. She loved Stein, there was no mistake about that—unhappily she wished there had been.

  Before she looked away from Donald, her face must have betrayed her. ‘So I am too late,’ he breathed.

  ‘You’ve fallen for him?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, knowing it would be futile to deny it. Donald was trained to see under the surface, she could never hope to fool him completely.

  What he didn’t realise, and what she could never tell him, was that she derived a strange and maybe unkind comfort from knowing someone else was as miserable.

  Donald went a shade paler and muttered something, but to Helen’s relief began eating his soup. She doubted if his heart would be past mending, but she let him finish his dinner before requesting him again to leave.

  He went reluctantly, but this time he didn’t argue, and when he had gone Helen went to bed, thinking it had been a bewildering day. Donald had looked pretty grim as he’d left, and she hadn’t known whether to feel sorrier for him or herself. Stein might murder her if he was ever to discover Donald had been here. She could only hope again that a fear of offending the girl she must believe to be her future
mistress might prevent Mrs Swinden from mentioning either of her two visitors to him.

  At eleven the following morning, Helen was just setting off for a walk when Hilary ran after her. Mrs Swinden had sent her to say there was a call for her from France.

  To Helen’s surprise it was Raissa Sibour, now Madame Gabriel. ‘It’s wonderful to speak to you again, cherie, the Frenchwoman cried. ‘You must tell me how you have been.’

  After Helen had replied haltingly that she was well, and in turn enquired about Raissa and her family, there was a slight pause before Raissa asked, ‘You wouldn’t consider coming back to us, cheriet My mother is really too old to be of much practical help and the children have never been as good since you left. We did get another girl, but she isn’t nearly as efficient.’

  Helen almost accepted eagerly as she thought she saw an immediate way out of her troubles. Then she realised she couldn’t She still owed Stein too much—even if the repayment of her debts was becoming harder. She found it difficult, however, to reject her friend’s plea out of hand and promised to think it over. If only there was a way! she thought despondently. Without Stein she would never be happy but wouldn’t anything be better than having to live with him, being constantly bruised by his hate and distrust?

  It was late in the afternoon when he got in touch with her, and despite everything a tremor of joy ran through her on hearing his voice. She was still pondering over Raissa’s call when the phone rang and she forgot everything else.

  ‘So you’re back!’ she exclaimed without thinking, and could have bitten her tongue off at his obvious surprise.

  ‘Back from where?’ he asked suavely.

  ‘Just a—a joke,’ she tried to laugh, hoping he would treat it as such.

  He appeared to, although there was no hint that he was amused. He might have been tired, because he sounded impatient. ‘Listen, Helen. Some of the staff from your father’s old firm are giving a small party for us this evening. Just drinks and that sort of thing, and Paul’s on his way to pick you up.’

  He rang off without giving her a chance to comment, and she stared with indignant misery at the buzzing receiver in her hands. She was getting sick of such high-handedness, she told herself bitterly, very sick indeed!

  When Paul arrived she was ready. In spite of her rebellious mood she was glad to break the routine of the past few days. Nothing, she decided, could be much worse than having nothing to do. She didn’t feel too happy about deceiving her father’s old colleagues, many of whom had taken a great interest in her. But it was futile wishing, at this late hour, that Stein might have tried to put the party off. As he hadn’t, she would just have to make the best of it.

  She wore a blue dress and black high-heeled sandals which flattered her small feet and slender legs. The dress, a compromise between day and evening, was beguilingly composed of silk and lace. Through the cunningly fashioned bodice, her skin gleamed with a creamy whiteness which was very attractive. Yet, glancing at herself in the mirror as she brushed her long, shining hair, she suddenly frowned. She knew her figure was good, but she didn’t want Stein to think she was deliberately showing it off. She sighed; why worry about what Stein would think when he probably wouldn’t notice anyway!

  Paul took her straight to the old works. ‘I’m starting here on Monday,’ he surprised her by stating as they arrived. ‘Mr. Maddison found me something.’

  Another possible ally gone! ‘What if you don’t like it?’ Helen asked soberly. .

  ‘Then he’ll find me something else,’ Paul grinned.

  ‘He’s in just about everything, you know. There’s plenty to choose from, if I have patience.’

  Stein was waiting for her. She had hoped to have a word with him before going to the conference room where Paul told her the party was to be held, but she was disappointed to find he had gone on ahead, although he did come immediately to her side when he saw her.

  The brush of his mouth on her lips made her tremble as usual, but his hand steadied her. He lifted his head to allow his eyes to glint over her. ‘Very nice!’ he said sardonically, moments before they were surrounded.

  Much later, just as they were about to leave, he was called to the telephone, and when he returned Helen was apprehensively startled by the brief glimpse of something she caught in his eyes. It was gone so quickly she thought she must have imagined it, and did in fact forget all about it as he laughingly caught hold of her around the waist, amid renewed cheers, to guide her outside.

  ‘Everyone was so nice,’ she whispered, near to tears as he helped her into his car and they drove from the huge complex.

  ‘Yes,’ he said expressionlessly.

  ‘Where’s Paul?’ She suddenly realised he wasn’t with them.

  ‘I’ve given him a few hours off,’ Stein replied smoothly. ‘I told him to come to the apartment about ten.’

  While she was digesting this, he added softly, ‘How have you found it at Oakfield while I’ve been away? Quiet?’

  ‘Yes,’ she mumbled, praying he wouldn’t notice the increase of colour in her cheeks, ‘very.’

  The windscreen wipers swished hypnotically while street lamps shone on shiny wet roads. Despite the rest of the traffic, the rain seemed to isolate them in an uneasy silence.

  At last Stein asked idly, ‘Haven’t you had any visitors?’

  His voice was so casual, Helen was deceived into believing he was concentrating on his driving and merely making polite conversation. It was only as she hesitated and he repeated his query that her glance flew in undisguised alarm to his face. She was suddenly convinced he knew she had had visitors, and who they had been.

  Her mind in a sort of chaos, she tried to think straight. That phone call at the party, the brief glimpse of his expression afterwards. The call must have been I from Mrs Swinden, although that puzzled her, for she hadn’t told the woman where she was going. Then she remembered something and her face paled. Paul had been in the kitchen waiting for her. He had come from there as she had run downstairs. In all probability he had mentioned where she was going. He wouldn’t have thought there was any need for secrecy.

  Her worst fears were realised when Stein snapped furiously, ‘I’m glad you aren’t attempting to go on lying to me, Helen.’

  Shock shook her and she flinched but tried to speak steadily. ‘Two people called, Stein, but I’d no idea they were coming.’

  ‘Hadn’t you?’ he said grimly.

  ‘No, I had not!’ she retorted angrily, yet trying instinctively to appeal to him. ‘I wouldn’t have asked them. I don’t even like either of them very much.’

  ‘Which I suppose explains why you allowed them to stay as long as they did?’

  ‘Mrs Swinden has been busy!’ she exclaimed bitterly.

  ‘Don’t try to say she didn’t tell me the truth.’

  ‘You must know how she twists it!’ Helen said desperately.

  ‘You gave the game away yourself,’ he snapped. ‘Mrs Swinden merely verified what I’d already suspected.’ As the car dipped suicidally into the underground park below his apartment, he added savagely, ‘You knew I’d been out of the country, because Phillips told you. I saw him at the airport and he saw me.’

  ‘Yes, he did!’ she said sharply, wanting to make sure Stein realised she knew he had been with another woman.

  He smiled suddenly, a jeer of diabolical triumph.

  ‘Jealous, were you? Of a mere acquaintance?’

  ‘No!’ she insisted too feverishly, as the lift shot upwards and he propelled her ruthlessly into his flat. As the door closed behind them she was immediately conscious of being completely alone with him. An inexplicable panic rose inside her and she tried to calm herself. ‘Aren’t we going out for dinner?’

  ‘Sorry.’ His eyes were cold and gleamed angrily, his jeering humour forgotten. ‘We can eat here if you’re hungry, but not until you’ve explained a few things. Make yourself comfortable while I perk some coffee. Then we can talk.’

  As he disap
peared Helen shrugged out of her velvet cloak and sat down. She wondered why she had mentioned dinner when she didn’t even feel like coffee.

  She tried to relax, but found it impossible. She knew what sort of questions Stein was going to ask and recognising the filthy mood he was in she realised he was going to demand answers. But where was she going to find them? Hadn’t he already as much as stated he didn’t believe she hadn’t arranged to meet Donald Blyth? There was no way she could produce indisputable proof that Donald’s arrival at Oakfield had been totally unexpected. Somehow she didn’t think Stein would be so angry about Gary Phillips, but she was never sure how he would react.

  He returned with the coffee and poured it out. He took so long over it that she felt like screaming, until she realised he was being deliberately slow. He knew she was keyed up and was cruelly testing the strength of her nerves.