by Anne Styles
He laughed with triumph as he felt her respond to his persuasive hands, hearing her moan with pleasure as she finally gave in, her body weak with longing as, at last, he moved gently into her. 'Oh, why do I always give in to you?' she sighed as he did so.
'Because you love me,' he told her. 'And I don't give up!'
In the morning, however, she had the upper hand when he woke up with a hangover.
'Serves you right!' she taunted with a grin. 'I take it you won't want any breakfast?' Nick hit her with a pillow and pulled the covers over his head. He really did look rough. Sarah relented, and fetched him some Alka Seltzer, collecting the papers and her shoes from the hall as she did so.
'Good job you didn't ruin those as well,' Nick commented, seeing the Emma Hope label in them as she dropped them to the floor.
'The dress will clean, I'm sure,' she said hopefully. 'But I shall have to borrow something of yours to go home in.'
'I'll find you some clothes in a minute,' he promised. 'Right now, I'm going to stand under the shower and hope for the best,' he added, wincing as he stood up.
Laughing heartlessly at his discomfort, Sarah sat on the bed, sipping orange juice and flipping through the pile of newspapers. Their success was popular with the Press and their photographs were well used in most of them. She was pleased until she got to the Unicorn. The photos were on the inside page, as usual, but she stared at the prose with growing panic. This time there were no holds barred, and the whole had Max Moreton's byline.
Director Nick Grey kisses his lover Sarah Campbell after they both won BAFTA awards in London last night. The couple, whose affair has been the talk of the film industry for months, came out in the open at the prestigious awards ceremony - a close friend confirmed to our reporter that the couple are crazy about each other, and that the long-time married director is on the point of leaving his heiress wife for the beautiful young star! If only, thought Sarah miserably, knowing that this could well be the end of everything. For the first time their relationship had been openly described.
'"Heiress wife"! That'll be the day! Old man Mackenzie is on the verge of bankruptcy most of the time; he'll never leave Diana a penny!' commented Nick, looking over her shoulder. 'Damn! That bastard swore he'd get me, and I think he just has!'
'What on earth are we going to do?' Sarah asked, panic- stricken. 'Can we sue them?'
Nick gathered her into his arms, cradling her head against his damp chest. 'We can't sue them for telling the truth, darling, and they know it's true. I've never told you this, but I had a conversation with Max after the last salvo. One of their reporters watched us making love at Hastings, in the garden that time. If we protest too much he'll use it somehow, I'm sure of it. There's sod all we can do about it, except deny we're getting married.'
'Oh, God, Nick, how can they do this to us?' Sarah raised tear-filled eyes to his.
'Vengeance can do very nasty things to people,' he admitted. 'It's me he wants, not you. I think you'll be safe enough. It's Diana I have to worry about. We had a steaming row about you yesterday, which was one of the reasons I got so drunk, I guess. It's not going to be an easy ride, darling.'
'Would it be so ridiculous? Do we have to deny it?' she asked hesitantly.
'Getting married?' Nick shook his head in defeat, though the thought had occupied him for weeks. He had to sound casual and even uncaring until he had worked out the best way to save the company. 'Sarah, I have told you before, I am married - to a devout Catholic -and apart from that I know I'm far too old for you, long-term. Look, don't worry. I'll think of something. Get dressed - I'd better get you out of here before the Press find out you are in my bed or Diana comes storming in. Though I don't suppose she's even up yet!' Sarah knew he had a hangover, but she found it difficult to understand his swift dismissal of her question. Lots of people had affairs and got married, she thought angrily as she pulled on one of his sweaters and a pair of tracksuit trousers, why not them? Because - she remembered Ronnie's words - Nick always went back to that stuck-up little wife of his.
Smouldering with resentment, she sat beside Nick in the car as he drove her back to Chelsea, cursing his headache as he did so. It was rush hour and she slumped low in her seat, watching his frowning profile terrified of being recognized. His face only softened as he leant over to kiss her goodbye.
'I'm going to the office,' he told her. 'If you have any problems with the Press, ring me there.' He knew she had a performance that night, so she couldn't go off to Guildford as she had done before, and she was aware that now he definitely had to go to Oxford that evening. He dropped her at the garage entrance to her flat so that she could slip in the back way, even the soft clunk of the car door jarring his throbbing head.
He walked into chaos at NGA, with reporters all over the foyer. Sandy was frantically trying to deal with them single-handed. With a few choice epithets Nick strode through them. 'Call the police. Sandy, if they're not out of here in ten seconds!' he threatened, and swept into his office.
Jane was trying to answer two phones at once and looked close to tears. Swiftly Nick put both phones back onto the hook. 'Never mind those,' he said. 'Just get me a coffee, please, Jane, and some aspirin or something.'
'Hangover?' She was more sympathetic than Sarah had been, but then he hadn't treated her as badly as he remembered treating Sarah.
'You could say that!' he groaned, and picked up a phone. 'Don't put any calls through Sandy till I ask you.'
'Diana rang,' Jane told him, as she put the coffee down. 'She said to tell you Max had rung her.' Nick put his head in his hands.
'This isn't going to be my day!' he said thickly.
Too right it isn't, Jane thought grimly. She had been fielding Press calls since eight o'clock that morning. But she adored Nick, and she hated seeing him in such a state.
'It's my own fault,' he told her, seeing her sympathetic face. 'I don't often get drunk, but I certainly did last night, and I handed it to Moreton on a plate. Now be a good girl and give me five minutes to speak to Diana.' His hand was shaking as he pressed the button on his phone for the Oxford house, using the private line since he was sure Diana would have switched the main phone onto the answering machine. 'Hi, it's me,' he said, as calmly as possible, and then held the phone away as his normally calm wife screamed abuse at him. 'It's only Maxie being vicious,' he reasoned hopefully, but knowing Max had surely told Diana about Hastings he knew that he was well and truly caught in his nasty little plot. 'I'll be home this evening,' he promised. 'We'll discuss it then.'
* * *
He was too calm. Diana threw the phone down in disgust and paced the room in a frenzy. 'Little bitch!' she muttered angrily. 'I'll sort her!' And she raked through her desk, searching for Nick's copy of the unit list for the film. Sarah's number was listed on it, and she dialled with trembling fingers.
Sarah answered the phone quickly, hoping it was Nick, and recoiled as if the receiver was hot when her worst fears were realized. Suddenly it all came home to her as she heard the obvious anguish in Diana's voice. Nick's wife was no longer a distant being; she was there at the end of the phone, and she was hurting - probably more than Sarah was herself at that moment.
Regret and real remorse filled her mind as it swept through every suddenly illegal detail of her life with Nick while she listened to his unhappy wife. Her parents would have been horrified, and she realized then just what she had done. She had let them down and made a dreadful mistake. Nick was Diana's husband. He would never be hers. But oh. God, she wanted him still.
'There's no point in denying it, Sarah,' Diana said at last, coldly. 'I know all about you and Nick. Max Moreton told me a great deal this morning.'
'I wouldn't dream of denying it.' Sarah hesitated, then said tentatively, 'What do you want, Diana?'
'I want you to stop seeing my husband right now, you little slut!' Diana's voice was suddenly cool and level, as if she had gathered herself together. 'I'm not going to divorce him; I can promise you tha
t. And if he leaves me I assure you he'll lose NGA. He knows that and he certainly won't run that risk, however much you think he loves you!'
'It's very sad that you can only hold onto your husband with threats,' Sarah retaliated, though she was shaking as she listened. 'But I think that's up to Nick, don't you? I don't think we should discuss it. I'm sorry, Diana, I didn't want things to turn out like this, but they have, and it's his decision over what happens now.' Nick was as much to blame as she was - surely? Or had she led him on? Provoked him? It had, after all, been she who had offered herself that first evening at Hastings, hadn't it?
She hung up before, she let herself down by bursting into tears. The phone rang again immediately and she answered it, trembling. 'Oh, Charles, thank goodness!' He insisted on taking her to lunch, despite her protests. 'Hold your head up, Sarah,' he told her firmly. 'You have nothing to be ashamed of! We'll go to Antons. I'll pick you up at twelve-thirty.' He arrived on the dot, guiding her through the knot of reporters outside the flat, ignoring their questions as he helped her into the car. Sarah was rigid with fear, for as they walked into the restaurant, expensive though it was, the clientele all seemed to look at her and be discussing her as Charles guided her to their table.
'Many congratulations. Miss Campbell.' The proprietor smiled as he bustled to attend to them. Sarah stared at him in surprise for a moment, then realized it was the award he was talking about. In her misery over Nick she had forgotten about it.
'Why, thank you, Anton.' She smiled back gratefully at him, and decided she was hungry after all. 'I'd love lobster, Charles, if that's OK?'
'That sounds more like you!' He laughed back, and Sarah shook herself, and gave him her full attention from then on.
'I'll send Bernard to take you to the theatre,' he promised. 'And to take you home afterwards.'
'That's not necessary, Charles.'
'Yes, it is!' There was to be no argument, she found. 'The Press can be horrific and I'm taking no chances with you. If Nick can't protect you, I can.'
'Nick has to see Diana,' she pointed out.
'You do realize he won't come back, don't you?' Charles asked casually. 'Diana has a terrible hold over him.'
'She's already phoned me,' Sarah admitted, and told him about Diana's call.
'The bitch!' he exclaimed furiously. 'What are you going to do?'
'Whatever Nick decides,' she sighed. 'Don't let's spoil lunch, Charles, please.'
* * *
Diana had hung up the phone in a total fury. Only the day before she had asked Nick about Sarah Campbell and he had fiercely denied any involvement with her, outside business. Now Max Moreton was openly speaking of their affair. Not sure whether it was his denials she hated most, or the humiliation of the press coverage, she stormed around for an hour or more, totally unable to stop, ignoring the constantly ringing phone. Every time she tried to stop, the tide of fury swept over her again.
Finally, a banging on the door brought her to her senses and she ran downstairs to it when she recognized Paul's car. Everyone should have a Paul, she thought as he patted her shoulder awkwardly, and then made her some coffee.
'Let's face it, Diana,' he said as they sat each side of the kitchen table. 'It's not the first time he's done this, is it? And it probably won't be the last, living as you two do.'
'He lied to me about Sarah Campbell,' she sobbed anew. 'I can't bear that!'
'There may be nothing in it,' Paul reasoned. 'You said yourself, that reporter has it in for Nick. He may well have used the photographs and a bit of gossip to make some-thing of it.'
'No, Paul, this time it's all true. The reporter actually saw them making love. The bastard couldn't even do that behind closed doors! I've known for months deep down, I just turned my back on it, hoping it would all go away like it did over Stephanie. But it hasn't, it's just got worse.'
She hated Nick for what he was putting her through, but under her fury was the infuriating knowledge that she still wanted him under her control. The row that would come was a small price to pay for keeping him, and she knew she would do that, whatever happened when he got home. There were still a lot more she wanted from Nicholas Grey.
Paul took her out to lunch in a quiet pub a few miles away, comforting her and calming her down, relieved in a way that Nick had been having an affair with Sarah Campbell as he had begun to suspect Madeleine. She had become rather too friendly with Nick of late, since she had been working for him up in London, and he had been furious when, despite his objections, Madeleine had insisted on continuing to work for him.
Everything came far too easily to Nick, Paul had decided, years ago, and he hated him for what he perceived as his careless treatment of a beautiful wife. Though loving Diana as he did made it far easier to comfort her and understand her distress, he told himself ruefully.
* * *
When Nick pulled his car into the drive around five o'clock Diana was ready for him, dressed and made-up, her hair smooth and sleek, showing no sign of the storms of the morning. Playing for time, he seemed to take for ever getting his bag and briefcase out of the car, before he opened the front door, calling to her where she waited in the drawing room, watching him from the window.
Very slowly, she went towards him across the hall, conscious of the roses he had sent that afternoon still lying on the hall chair. Nick ignored them and bent to kiss her unsmiling mouth. Without a word, Diana turned back into the drawing room, picking up the flowers as she did so. 'I'll get a vase for these,' she said, quietly as he put his briefcase down on the coffee-table, giving him a chance to relax slightly as he watched her arrange them.
It was too early for a drink, he thought, and then poured one. Diana shook her head when he offered one to her.
The atmosphere was electric.
'Well?' she asked at last. 'What are you going to do? I've had Daddy on the phone half the afternoon.'
'I bet you have,' Nick said drily. 'He's given me a hard time too. I'm not going to do anything, Diana. It's up to you. I suggested a divorce months ago, remember?' Blast him, Diana thought bitterly, ready to hit him with frustration.
'No divorce. Nick! I told you that and I meant it! I'll see you in hell first - which is where I've been all day after listening to Max and all his rancid little tales! Have you any idea what that's like?'
'I'm sorry, Diana.' Nick stared down into the glass in his hand, unable to look at her suddenly. 'I really didn't think Max would stoop so low as to tell you all that.'
'Well, he did! He didn't leave much out either. You disgust me. Nick! You're forty, not a teenager, surely to God you have some control over your urges? Making love on a garden bench - at your age! It's revolting!' She made what had appeared to him as a wonderful interlude suddenly seem so sordid somehow, and Nick winced.
'I have the normal instincts of any man,' he defended. 'Just because they don't correspond with yours doesn't mean they're wrong! Face it, Diana, we just aren't compatible!'
'We were. Once.'
'No, Diana. Don't kid yourself! We have a friendship, I admit, and surprisingly it's one I'd prefer to continue. But I don't think you've ever liked me to touch you - you don't even approve of Lotte hugging me, for heaven's sake! I make no excuses over Sarah, and I refuse to let you denigrate her in your sanctimonious fashion.'
'She's nothing but a slut. Nick! A cheap little tart! Can't you see all she wants is your influence to help her to make it in the business? It's all those ignorant little bitches ever want! And you're too stupid to see how you're being used'
'Oh, no! That's where you are completely wrong! Possibly Stephanie did, but not Sarah! This is different - very different! This time I want out, Diana. Out of this marriage, out of your life altogether!'
'Yes?' Diana turned bitter eyes on him. Fine, Nick. You do that and you'll never see Charlotte again. I'll see to that! She's still young enough to come under the ruling of the courts, and no judge would even grant you joint custody, not after the things I could tell them. I'd m
ake sure you never got near her again. And once Daddy has finished with the financial side of things, you won't have your precious company either. I can claim a third of it, and I will - believe me, I will. In cash too! Where will you and your sweet little girlfriend be then, eh. Nick? With no money? She'll soon desert you. For Charlie, probably. He's been panting after her long enough.'
'Sarah's not like that!' he said sharply, knowing that on that score he was completely right. But the harsh reality of Diana's threats confirmed everything Nick had feared. He bent down, burying his face in Boots's fur as he bounded up to him, and Diana got up to leave the room, knowing triumphantly that she had hit home.
'You have to give her up, Nicholas, and that's all there is to it! It's her, or Charlotte and the company. Think about it,' she commanded quietly, and walked out.
For the first time since Natasha's death. Nick gave way to grief, tears stinging his eyes as he crumpled, hugging the patient dog. All day, as he had battled first with reporters and then with Alistair Mackenzie, he had known deep down that it would come to this. Half of him wanted to walk out on the marriage right this minute, but then he thought of the hold Diana had on both his precious daughter and the business, and the other half of him told him it was impossible.
Later that morning, after his raging head had subsided, he had walked through the building being greeted and congratulated by the staff, who were as proud of his awards as if they had won them personally. They admired him, they relied on him for their livelihood and they needed him, and without him it would all fold. He wondered bitterly if Max had known of Diana's share of the company - with that man's connections, it was more than likely - and Max knew exactly how to twist the knife. Ironically, he had made Diana a full partner to give her an income of her own; now his generosity had thoroughly backfired on him.
Sarah had sounded so cheerful too, when he had spoken to her as he drove out to Oxford. Charles had taken her to his Dolphin Square flat when they discovered even more reporters outside hers. She had spent most of the afternoon asleep, as she normally did before a performance, and had done her best to reassure him that everything would be fine.
