Sweet Pretence

Home > Other > Sweet Pretence > Page 5
Sweet Pretence Page 5

by Jacqueline Gilbert


  she felt a glow of satisfaction rise within her and she knew that she had regained her balance, was once more in full control of herself and what she had to do. She looked across the table at Joe for the first time since the meal had started, and the brown stare was directed her way, an enigmatic look on his face.

  'I do hope we haven't been boring you with all our theatrical talk, Miss... I'm sorry, but I can't— how awful of me!—remember your name,' exclaimed Nina Welsh with beautiful embarrassment. 'Do forgive me.'

  'Leigh,' offered Joe smoothly. 'Frederica Leigh, but I'm sure she'll be happy for you to call her Freddy,' and he waited for Freddy's 'Of course,' before he went on, 'It can hardly be boring for her, Nina. Frederica's used to it. She's one of us.'

  'Really?' Nina turned her pansy eyes to Joe, and then on to Freddy. Freddy felt a flash of antagonism reach her from their depths.

  She felt like saying—Don't worry, Nina, he's all yours.

  'She works for Atticus,' Liz explained, and then hid a yawn, her eyes twinkling as she saw that Freddy had noticed.

  Freddy suddenly knew what she had to do. She waited for a lull in the conversation and announced, 'I'm sorry, but I really have to go now.'

  She rose to her feet and gave a smile that included the whole of the table, skimming over Joe. 'It's been a lovely evening and I enjoyed the play enormously. Unfortunately, I have a daughter who wakes regularly as clockwork and makes no concessions to Sunday being a day of rest.' She allowed herself a quick look at Joe and wished she hadn't. Their departure was undertaken with incredible smoothness. Freddy managed to say quietly to Joe, 'If you don't want to leave now, I can easily take a taxi.' He didn't reply and there was something in his eyes that sent her panicking again, until she pulled herself together. If he was as furious as that look suggested it was tough luck! He'd soon get over it. Nina Welsh and a dozen others would help him.

  The journey home was unremarkable other than for the silence between them. Freddy guessed that once they began to talk all hell would be let loose— and Joe angry was bad enough, but Joe angry at the wheel of a powerful car was dangerous! She was beginning, a little, to regret the disclosure of Megan in this way. She knew why she had done it, as a kind of flag-waving, to show that she was independent and not an appendage to Joe, or a threat to Nina or any other woman who considered she had a claim. But she could hardly admit that to Joe, for she would also have to admit to the feelings that had prompted the flag-waving.

  Houdini greeted them with his usual enthusiasm. Freddy threw her coat over the banister and went into the sitting-room, saying, 'I'll put coffee on.'

  Joe said abruptly, 'You needn't bother. I don't want any.'

  'Well, I do,' retorted Freddy, and went into the kitchen to see to it. She didn't know whether she wanted any or not, but it was something to do. Her heart was beginning to pound and she stood still for a moment, marshalling thoughts and energy before re-entering the room. She found Joe studying Megan's photograph on the mantel, his face closed and an alarming grimness around his mouth.

  'What is it you want to say, Joe?' she asked, her chin coming up as she stared steadily at him.

  'I should think it's obvious, isn't it? Why didn't you tell me about her?'

  'Does there have to be a reason?'

  His mouth twisted. 'Oh, yes, I think so. It's not like you, Fred. Yes, there has to be a darned good reason.'

  'Perhaps I thought someone else had told you. Liz, for instance...'

  'If that had happened, I'd have said something.' Harsh impatience coloured his voice.

  'Or maybe I considered you wouldn't be interested.'

  'There were people you had never met before sitting around that table tonight, yet you thought they'd be interested.'

  'I was telling them why I had to go.'

  'And at the same time giving out information to me.' Joe's face darkened as if hit by the memory. 'Why like that? Suddenly? I can't understand your motives.'

  'Women are incalculable,' she mocked. 'Haven't you realised that by now?'

  She sat down on the broad arm of the armchair and fondled Houdini who was uneasy, his black face looking from one to the other as they spoke, not liking the vibrations.

  'I can't believe you're ashamed of her,' Joe said.

  Freddy's head came up, eyes blazing as she lashed out, 'Certainly I'm not!

  What a foul thing to say! On the contrary, she's the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

  'The best thing, and yet you don't talk about her?' Joe gave a wintry smile and she felt like slapping him.

  'I do talk about her, of course I do,' she snapped, glowering. 'I just choose when to do so. Joe, what is all this? Why the fuss?'

  'I feel as though you've hidden her from me, as if I were a threat to her.'

  'Don't be ridiculous.' Yet there was enough in what he said for Freddy to be reminded again of his astuteness, of his ability to work tenaciously through a problem.

  '1 suppose you've had the brush-off in the past because of her,' he went on, his eyes boring into her relentlessly, 'but I bet you're not averse to using her as a deterrent when it suits you. Were you hoping I'd be put off, Frederica? Sorry to disappoint you; I like little girls, especially ones so appealing. How old is she?'

  'Five. Her name is Megan. Now are you satisfied?'

  'You have a sitter here tonight?'

  Freddy stiffened, alerted by a subtle change in his voice.

  'As a matter of fact, Megan's staying with friends.'

  Lids dropped down over his eyes as he contemplated her for a moment. 'So it wasn't entirely true,' he remarked with silky softness, 'when you announced to all and sundry that you would be woken early. She's not here.'

  'That's awfully discerning of you, Joe.' The sarcasm was rife in her voice.

  'And we have the place to ourselves.' He gave one of his razor-edged smiles. The words dropped between them and hung full of implications.

  'Oh!' Freddy allowed that shortest of exclamations to be full of surprise and enlightenment. She beamed a smile quite devoid of either humour or warmth. 'You think I've set up the ideal love-nest! Now you pat me on the shoulder and say, "There, there, little woman, I shall smooth away all your sexual frustrations, because you must have some, living here on your own without a man in sight,'" she rose, her voice hardening cynically, ' "so let me warm you with my kisses and show you what a good lover I still am and how happy I can make you!" And then I swoon into your arms, for Sir Galahad has arrived riding not a white charger, but a red Tiger, and the princess is saved!'

  Joe tut-tutted. 'You have a lousy script writer, Fred, and don't go putting words into my mouth that were never there. Women's Lib has altered all that humbug. Why should you have all the sexual frustrations? If you said that to me I'd be delighted.'

  'I hope you're not trying to tell me that you have problems,' she said sarcastically, 'because I won't believe you.' She stared stonily at him. How dared he think she had contrived to have both Megan and Judith out of the house! As if their presence presented a problem in any case!

  Joe walked slowly over to her, and although she felt like backing up Freddy stayed where she was, straight-backed, ready for battle. 'It can be very easy to drift into a situation,' he observed coolly, 'where there's a different head on the pillow every week, yet I can't see you falling into that trap, Frederica. No, you'd be choosy, and you'd make sure he knew all the conditions, the main one being to fit into your neat and tidy schedule... marked down in the ledger book under the appropriate entry. Well, I know the rules, and we know one another pretty well, I'd say, wouldn't you?' He paused and added significantly, 'But perhaps you have some scruples regarding David Herrick?'

  Freddy said icily, 'Leave David out of this!'

  'Willingly. The stage is set. We have the two principal players. Let's go to bed, Frederica.'

  'You say the sweetest things, Joe. No.'

  'I'm devastated. Is it something I did?'

  'Poor Joe,' mocked Freddy. 'You c
an't understand why I'm not rushing into bed with you.'

  'I know exactly why.' There was a taut silence between them, and his voice softened. 'You look so cool and poised. If this untouchable veneer is supposed to keep me at my distance, I'm afraid it's failing dismally.' He put up his hands and dexterously removed the combs and pins from her hair so that it fell in wonderful disarray to her shoulders. 'You've grown such a protective shell around you, Frederica, that if you don't watch out it'll smother you completely.'

  'And you've given yourself the task of freeing me,' she ridiculed. 'You haven't changed, Joe. Still so arrogantly sure of yourself.'

  'You've developed cold feet, Fred,' Joe told her softly, running his fingers through her hair. 'It's as simple as that.' He stroked her cheek and she flinched at his touch. 'You see?' he went on in a deep, gentle voice. 'You're frightened you might like it and forget to give me the brush-off. You have quite a good line in brush-offs, did you know, Fred? You have this way of raising your eyebrows fractionally and looking down your exquisite nose and your lips give a tiny, cold smile. It puts most men off. But for me it has the opposite effect.' His fingers traced the outline of her lips very lightly.

  'Why don't you admit, Fred, that you have cold feet?'

  'All right!' She slapped his hand away, eyes blazing, furious. 'Have it your own way.'

  'That's better. We won't get anywhere wallowing around in self-deception.'

  'We aren't going anywhere, Joe!'

  Both hands came up this time and cupped her neck, thumbs gently following the line of her jaw in a mesmeric movement. 'You have more fire burning beneath that cool, keep-off facade than any woman I've ever met.' He gave a twisted smile. 'I speak from experience. You packed a pretty powerful punch eight years ago, Frederica.'

  Steeling herself to ignore the magic of his touch, Freddy told him sardonically, 'So did you, Joe, so did you—and I'm sure you've improved since then, so perhaps it's just as well I got cold feet. Now neither of us will get burned.'

  'That's what living is all about, Fred. It reminds you that you're still alive.'

  'Be careful, Joe, you're beginning to sound like a character from a second-rate movie. You're an authority on living, then? Fancy yourself as the one to bring me alive, do you?' She gave an impatient exclamation and jerked her head away. 'Look, let's stop being frivolous...'

  'I'm not feeling frivolous, Fred—bloody angry is what I'm feeling! What the hell are you doing to yourself? Bottling up all your emotions, frightened of becoming involved in case you might deviate from some preconceived plan, making out you're an icicle when I know damn well you're anything but!' He pulled her to him and began to kiss her, his hands either side of her head, holding her firm. Freddy struggled for a moment and then stood still, suffering the kisses with a blankness on her face, showing her contempt plainly. It was an onslaught of consummate skill as he touched her with his lips, seducing her with a gentleness behind which was a force, ready to be unleashed, and only held back by tremendous will-power. His mouth trailed across her flesh, leaving it on fire, kissing her neck, her cheeks, her eyelids, while his hands moved to her shoulders and then journeyed down her body, holding her against him so that the feel and shape of him impressed upon her mind, her senses relearning his smell, his texture, his strength. Her softness complemented his hardness, her roundness his leanness, and those hands, those marvellous hands touched and caressed, and sneaked their way past the silken folds of fabric and cupped her breast. The fire within her leaped to his touch as his fingers teased and smoothed and his lips teased and charmed.

  Enough! This was madness. Freddy turned her face away and brought up a hand to stay his. So far she had not responded, but she could not hold out much longer, and she had some pride left. Her heart seemed to be pounding through the whole of her body, and under the impeccable grey suit jacket where her hands had treacherously found themselves—but were now severely on the outside—she had felt the thumping of his heart, and the warmth of his armpits, and the tapering bony ridges of his ribs. With precise delicacy, Joe put her from him.

  'An icicle,' he drawled silkily, 'is what you are not.' He stretched out a hand and with mocking arrogance drew the folds of her dress back into place, and the irony stretched like a taut rope between them.

  Freddy felt as though she was running a fever arid yet still felt cold. How easy it would be to give in...

  'My script might be a lousy one,' she said scornfully, 'but you seem to be able to follow it pretty well.' She was under control now, although her breast still had the imprint of his hand upon it. 'But we're playing an out-of-date scenario. We've been through it all before and we're different people now.'

  She gave a funny little shrug of the shoulders and her lips curved downwards derisively. 'I'm not going to be such a fool as to deny that there is this physical attraction between us, but I suspect you could become rather like a drug, Joe. And for me to become an addict would be even more foolish.' She held his stare, chin up, and added with finality, 'Goodnight.'

  Joe stood for a moment, eyelids drooping, lips a thin line, and then he strolled to the door, half turned and drawled, 'Goodnight, princess. Sleep well.' And, giving a mocking smile, he left.

  Freddy heard the front door slam, and in the kitchen the noise of the percolator mingled tunefully with Houdini's snores.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JACK FROST arrived with December, laying icy fingers everywhere. Days fell into their familiar pattern, the familiarity soothing. Mrs Mallory slipped on the ice and bruised a knee, but was back the next day, as indomitable as ever. As term neared its end Judith's spirits rose. She was spending the Christmas holiday with her fiance in America; the flight was booked and her suitcase was at the ready.

  Megan was invited to play with Michael Carlyon and his sister, Victoria, nicknamed Plum, a gorgeous eighteen-month-old girl who followed them around like an adoring puppy. And Liz and Freddy continued their exploration into friendship with increasing satisfaction.

  Patrick Tyson showed interest in the Queen's Theatre project and began talks with Adam Carlyon. For Freddy, unusually busy, the end of term came as rather a surprise. This was traditionally highlighted by a carol service, a nativity play and a party for the schoolchildren. At the nativity play, Liz and Freddy sat together among the other parents, and fought back a tear as Michael and Megan, dressed as a shepherd and an angel, appeared onstage. They glanced at each other and smiled sheepishly. The day after term ended Judith flew to the States and Freddy's parents arrived to take Megan back with them for the Christmas holiday. Freddy was aiming to join them later in the week.

  Megan was waiting by the window long before her grandparents were due, dressed in a bright red jumper, a tartan skirt and red tights. She had just finished writing a note to Father Christmas, with help from her mother, to make sure he knew they would be at Boston. It would be a terrible thing if he made the mistake of delivering her presents here!

  When the dark blue Ford estate turned the corner, she leaped to her feet, crying, 'They're here, Mummy! Granny and Grandad are here!'

  Freddy watched her daughter fly down the path to fling her arms round Mr and Mrs Leigh as they emerged from the car. She waited for the threesome to come in, and kissed and hugged her parents, satisfied that they looked no different from their last visit.

  The same feeling could not justifiably be found in Catherine Leigh as she studied her daughter. She hated to fuss, but found the words coming out unbidden. 'Darling, you look as though you need this holiday!'

  Freddy said brightly, 'I'm fine, Mum, honestly.' She met her mother's dubious eye and added firmly, 'You know I never have much colour, and I'm really as tough as old boots!' With that Catherine had to be satisfied. Edmund Leigh was standing at the window watching birds pecking at crumbs on the bird-table. Tall and thin, he was a semi-retired solicitor with a keen interest in wildlife. His brown hair was remarkably free from grey, and it was from him that Freddy had inherited her height.

  Catheri
ne Leigh had drawn Megan on to her lap and was listening to the story of the letter to Father Christmas while Freddy wandered over to the window and tucked her arm through her father's. They watched the antics of a robin as he pecked at the nuts, chased off by an impudent sparrow.

  'Cheeky devils, sparrows,' observed Edmund, and patting his daughter's arm added, 'Lunch, now, I think.'

  Freddy insisted on taking them to a local restaurant, saying it wasn't often she was able to treat them to a meal, and because of the weather forecast which promised snow, Edmund decided to start back home immediately after.

  He stood on the steps of Dean Close while his wife settled Megan and 'that darned dog', as he called Houdini, into the car. He eyed his daughter thoughtfully. 'Your mother's a little worried about you, my dear,' he confided mildly. 'Been overdoing things a bit?'

  Freddy squeezed his arm. 'Dad, there's nothing wrong with me that a whiff of east wind can't blow away,' she said, and grinned, for the wind that came off the North Sea straight from Siberia was notoriously bracing in the summer and bitterly cold in the winter.

  'Hum, well, take care of yourself, and drive carefully. Where are you off to tomorrow?'

  'Yorkshire. We're doing winter location work for Wuthering Heights.''

  'They've had large falls of snow up there, so mind what you're doing.'

  Edmund bent to kiss her.

  Freddy followed him down the path, commanding, 'Mind how you go!'

  She gave Megan a kiss through the window, saying with mock severity, 'Be good, brat,' and Catherine said, 'She's always good, aren't you, darling?'

  Freddy waved the car out of sight and walked back into the house, feeling a little bereft.

  That evening she went to a concert with David Herrick, her work colleague. It was a programme she favoured, but for once she couldn't lose herself in the music. The reason she knew well enough. She had spied Joe sitting a few rows in front and he was not alone. Concentration from then on was hopeless, and she tensed up with irritation. If you're going to be like this every time you see Joe Corey with another woman, then you're in for a hard time, she told herself furiously, and made a huge effort to blank him out. Coming slowly down the stairs as the audience filed out of the concert hall it seemed inevitable that Joe and his companion should be coming down the opposite staircase at the same time. Their eyes held for a moment, Freddy's cool, Joe's veiled, and then he gave her a small, secret smile before turning to talk to his partner. Soon he was lost in the crowd.

 

‹ Prev