by Anne Mather
‘Alexis!’ he exclaimed warmly, crossing the hall to them and shaking hands. ‘Glad you could come! Hello, Karen! How are you? How’s that father of yours getting on?’
Karen responded politely and then their host interposed himself between them and led them across to the opened door of the lounge where his other guests were having cocktails before dinner. To Karen’s relief there were only five other guests apart from Alexis and herself, and she knew none of them personally. There was Jim Summerton’s wife Mary, of course, and Lucy, his daughter, but Karen didn’t know them particularly well either. She was introduced to the other guests: to Frank and Winifred Perry, who farmed just outside of Wakeley, to George and Sylvia Horner, whom Karen recognized by their name as being the owners of Streatham Grange, a large riding school on the outskirts of Wakeley, and to the Horners’ son, Michael, who was in his late teens. They seemed a friendly group, although Karen sensed a certain speculation about her presence there, and she wondered whether indeed Alexis had been expected to bring a guest. Maybe it was accepted because he was who he was, and she might conceivably be the latest in a long line of conquests. She found the idea did not appeal to her, and she began to appreciate the invidiousness of her position.
However, it soon became apparent that Lucy Summerton, at least, considered that Alexis’s presence at the dinner party was solely her concern, and as Karen and Alexis were separated at the outset, Karen soon found herself left in the hands of young Michael Horner. So much so that she actually began to wonder whether she had not just been invited to make up the numbers. Whenever she looked in Alexis’s direction, he seemed absorbed with what Lucy and her parents were saying to him, and Karen couldn’t dispel the surge of jealousy that enveloped her no matter how she tried.
Not that Lucy Summerton was a particularly beautiful girl. She had a rather attractive face and a rounded figure, it was true, but it was the elegance of her clothes and the artistry of her hairdresser who really were responsible for her sophisticated appearance.
After a couple of drinks, during which time Sylvia Horner questioned Karen extensively about her work at the comprehensive school, they all went in to dinner, and she found herself seated between Michael and Frank Perry on one side of the long polished table, while Alexis was seated with Lucy and the Horners at the other.
The meal, delicious though it was, seemed endless, and Karen had to force herself not to watch Alexis across the table or to try and listen to his conversation. Michael was charming to her, although she found his conversation a little immature, and after a few drinks Frank Perry unbent sufficiently to ask her whether she did much riding. As Karen had only ridden in the environs of a riding school as a child, her reply was not what he had expected, and he was silent for a while before going on to tell her that he loved hunting and that he had been blooded when he was only five years old. As Karen was opposed to fox-hunting as a sport, and considered blooding a child as being one of the most barbarous acts she had ever heard of, this provoked a lively argument, and she found herself the cynosure of all eyes. However, far from becoming angry with her, Frank Perry seemed to find her views refreshing, and when they returned to the lounge for coffee he seated himself beside her, much to his wife’s chagrin, and proceeded to tell her all about himself. A man in his forties, he was a typical countryman, and he knew all there was to know about farming. It was only when he began showing an interest in her affairs that Karen felt any sense of withdrawal, and realized that he might conceivably get the wrong idea about her.
Conversation became general, and as Jim Summerton ensured that no one’s glass was ever empty, there was a comfortable air of conviviality about the proceedings. Alexis was seated across the room from Karen with George Horner, while Lucy was perched on the arm of his chair, but from time to time she sensed his eyes upon her.
Once she glanced at her watch and discovered it was already after ten o’clock, which surprised her somewhat. The last couple of hours seemed to have gone by so quickly, and she wondered how soon the party would break up. The disco would be closing at ten-thirty, and her parents would expect her home soon after eleven.
At a quarter to eleven, Mary Summerton suggested coffee and everyone agreed except Karen, who now looked deliberately across at Alexis, trying to convey her anxiety. He seemed to sense her unease and rising abruptly to his feet, he said: ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to be going, Mary. Karen’s a working girl, you know, and it’s getting late.’
Lucy looked annoyed. ‘It is Saturday tomorrow,’ she pointed out.
Alexis smiled down at her petulant features. ‘So it is. Never mind. It’s time we were leaving.’
‘Are you sure, Karen?’ Mary Summerton was basically a kind woman. ‘I’m sure if you telephoned your parents—’
‘No – really.’ Karen stood up too. ‘I – thank you for a lovely evening.’
Mary smiled. ‘You must get Alexis to bring you again.’
‘Yes.’ Karen was doubtful, aware of Lucy’s irritation.
Gradually they made their way out into the hall, making casual farewells, Alexis promising to phone the Horners. The maid brought their outdoor things and presently Alexis was dropping her cape about her shoulders.
The Aston Martin was cold, and the windscreen was filmed with ice until he sprayed it with some kind of defrosting liquid. Then he got into the car beside her and started the engine which fired without hesitation.
‘You – you can drop me in the High Street again,’ murmured Karen awkwardly, as they drove down Moorcourt.
‘No!’ said Alexis distinctly, and then indicated a building on their left. ‘That’s where I live. Have you ever been there?’
‘If you mean when Mr. Pierce lived there, no. And what do you mean, you won’t drop me in the High Street?’
‘Just that. I don’t intend to leave you in the middle of Wakeley at this time of night to walk home alone. It would be crazy! If anyone sees you with me, then it’s just too bad.’
Karen sighed. ‘And of course someone will.’
‘Well, what of it? Don’t take life so seriously. What have we done this evening that you couldn’t tell your parents about?’
‘Absolutely nothing,’ said Karen, her tone rather flat, but quite honestly that was how she was feeling.
Alexis looked at her strangely. ‘Do I detect a note of dissatisfaction in your voice?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Karen looked impatiently through the windows. ‘It’s beginning to snow again.’
‘Yes.’ He sounded thoughtful. ‘And I have to go to London in the morning.’
Karen looked his way. ‘You’re driving down?’
‘No. I shall take the train from Leeds.’ They were approaching the traffic lights again and he slowed almost to a halt. ‘Tell me something, Karen, why did you agree to come out with me this evening?’
She moved restlessly in her seat. ‘I – I thought it would be something – different.’
‘Do you mean – diverting?’
She frowned. ‘Need we have a post-mortem?’
‘Yes, I think we need.’ Alexis pulled on his handbrake even though the lights had changed to green. ‘Why – if you’re going to marry this man Nichols – did you run the risk of making him jealous by coming out with me?’
Karen shrugged. ‘Like you said – for old times’ sake.’
‘Really?’ He was half turned in his seat towards her, his arm along the back of hers, and she was intensely conscious of the cool appraisal of those strange amber eyes. The traffic lights were in the centre of Wakeley and she glanced round helplessly, sure someone was about to come along and recognize her.
Breathing quickly, she said: ‘What do you want me to say? I – I suppose I was – flattered.’
Thick lashes narrowed his eyes. ‘Flattered?’ He frowned. ‘I see.’
‘Now will you take me home?’ Karen glanced at her watch. ‘It’s nearly half past eleven. My parents will be worried about me.’
He picked up a st
rand of her night-dark hair and played with it absently, smoothing the threads across his fingers. ‘Surely they’ve no need to be worried about a girl like you,’ he remarked lazily. ‘Not someone with such pure ideals.’
Karen sighed. ‘Please,’ she said.
Alexis’s eyes flickered over her, resting for a disturbing moment on her mouth and she almost felt as though he had touched her. Then, with a shrug, he swung round in his seat and releasing the handbrake the car rolled smoothly forward.
It only took another couple of minutes to reach Karen’s home and the Aston Martin came to a noiseless halt at the end of their short drive.
‘Thank you.’
Karen reached for the door handle, but Alexis fore-stalled her, reaching past her to secure it for a moment longer. ‘Aren’t you going to kiss me?’ he inquired softly. ‘Er – for old times’ sake, of course.’
Karen was very close to him now. He was deliberately imprisoning her with his arm and his face was only inches from hers. In the gloom she couldn’t read his expression, but she didn’t need any illumination to be aware of the lean strength of his body or the clean male smell about him. She had visions of her mother at the window, seeing the car, recognizing it, wondering why Karen didn’t get out.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded tremulously. ‘You’re not interested in me.’
‘Make me – interested, I mean.’
Karen gasped. ‘No!’
‘All right, I’ll have to do it myself, then,’ he said, and sliding his hand under her hair he gripped the back of her neck, turning her face towards him.
Karen didn’t struggle. It would have been futile to do so considering his superior strength. But when his mouth covered hers she pressed her lips together tightly and refused to respond.
He lifted his head slightly and she was aware of the questioning penetration of his gaze. Then he kissed the curve of her chin, the hollows of her cheeks, the corner of her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth and biting gently.
When Karen thought he was about to seek her mouth again he suddenly drew back, releasing her abruptly. ‘Good night,’ he said coolly, drawing on his driving gloves.
Karen gave him a startled glance. She felt curiously bereft and hopelessly out of her depth.
‘G – good night,’ she stammered, and thrust open the door. She scarcely had time to slam it again before the powerful car drove away.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE fact that neither of her parents was up when she got in was almost an anticlimax, and Karen felt absurdly near to tears. It was a long time since she had cried about anything, and she didn’t altogether know why she felt like crying now. But she did!
The week-end was quiet. She spent Saturday afternoon and evening at the home of Ray’ parents, and on Sunday the weather was so bad that they didn’t meet until the evening and then only to go to the cinema.
Karen was glad when Monday came round. It was good to get back to school and back to work. When she was at home she had too much time to think, and she had done a lot of thinking over the week-end.
One thing had clarified itself, however. The silly emotional feelings she had cherished about Alexis Whitney all these years had been nothing but the result of an overcharged imagination. She was glad she had not responded to him. How galling it must have been for him to discover that in one respect at least she had grown up!
A week later she ran into Lucy Summerton in the supermarket.
The other girl was wandering around aimlessly while Karen was busily collecting some things for her mother in her lunch break. Lucy looked slim and attractive in a sleek brown trouser suit, while Karen was self-consciously aware of the limitations of her fur-lined, hooded poplin mackintosh.
To her surprise, Lucy seemed pleased to see her, and joining the queue at the checkout behind Karen, she said: ‘How are you?’ in quite friendly tones.
Karen was not one to bear a grudge and with a smile she answered: ‘Fine, thanks. Isn’t the weather appalling?’
‘Yes.’ Lucy looked beyond her to the slush-covered pavements outside the supermarket windows. ‘You look flustered. Are you in a hurry?’
‘Well, not exactly now.’ admitted Karen ruefully. ‘I was, but I think I’ve got everything. My mother asked me to get a few things to save her having to come out.’
‘I see.’ Lucy nodded. ‘What time do you have to be back at school?’
Karen reached the checkout and began unloading her things on to the counter. ‘Oh, about a quarter to two,’ she said, fumbling in her shopping-bag for her purse.
Lucy frowned. ‘Then you’ve time for a coffee. There’s a bar next door, and I’m sure you could do with a few moments’ rest before you get back to the grind.’
Karen hesitated. Her first instincts were to refuse, but for those very reasons she thought again. By avoiding speaking to Lucy Summerton she was admitting to an awareness of her involvement with Alexis, and it surely didn’t matter to her whether he was involved or not.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded, and said: ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’
Once ensconced on a low banquette in the discreetly-lit coffee bar next door, Karen began to have second thoughts. While Lucy went for their coffees, Karen had refused anything to eat, she began to wonder exactly why Lucy should have taken the trouble to invite her at all. After all, they had very little, if anything, in common, and ten days ago it had been obvious that she had resented Karen accompanying Alexis to her home.
Lucy returned, and slid on to the banquette opposite, pushing a cup of creamy liquid towards her. ‘Hmm,’ she said, her eyes flickering over Karen’s white blouse and navy cardigan. ‘This is nice, isn’t it?’
Karen smiled. There wasn’t a lot she could say. Seeking about for a safe topic, she sipped her coffee, and wished situations did not so easily react upon her.
Lucy seemed to have no such anxieties. Her motives for bringing Karen here were soon made clear. She wanted to talk about Alexis Whitney.
‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘have you known Alexis very long?’
That was a difficult question and Karen wasn’t at all sure how to answer it. At last she decided to be truthful, and said: ‘Actually I met him seven years ago. When he was at university in Leeds. We met at a party given by some mutual friends.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Lucy seemed to find this eminently satisfying and Karen wondered whether this was because she had previously imagined that their relationship had developed remarkably quickly in the few weeks Alexis had been in Wakely. ‘So you’ll be quite old friends.’
Karen shrugged. ‘Sort of.’
‘Was that before or after his father married again?’
Karen shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t know him that well.’
‘No, of course not.’ Lucy sipped her coffee in a rather satisfied way. She raised her delicately plucked eyebrows and went on: ‘That was all rather – unpleasant, wasn’t it?’
‘What was?’ Karen was out of her depth now.
‘Why, Alexis’s father getting married again, of course.’
‘I don’t know anything about it. Why shouldn’t he get married again if he wants to? It’s quite a common occurrence, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, yes, but this was something else.’ Lucy lay back in her seat and opened the expensive suède handbag that lay on the table between them. ‘Cigarette?’ Karen shook her head and she extracted one of the long American cigarettes and placed it between her lips, lighting it with a gold lighter. Then she went on: ‘Alexis’s mother had only been dead a little over six months when it happened.’
Karen moved uncomfortably. She didn’t particularly want to hear the personal details of Alexis’s father’s life and she couldn’t yet understand why Lucy should be regaling her with them. ‘I don’t think it’s anything to do with me,’ she began, but Lucy ignored her.
‘The most sordid part of all was that Michelle, the young woman Howard Whitney married, had been going about with his son for th
e best part of a year!’
Karen felt an unpleasant sensation in her stomach. ‘I expect these things happen sometimes,’ she managed.
‘Oh, yes.’ Lucy blew smoke into the air above their heads. ‘Oh, yes. But you see Michelle knew that Alexis would never marry her, so rather than forgo the Whitney millions, she made a deliberate play for his father.’ Lucy shook her head, a sardonic expression marring her face. ‘I think she had some quaint idea of capturing two birds with one stone, but it didn’t quite work out like that.’
‘I don’t see why you’re telling me all this,’ remarked Karen carefully, running her finger round the rim of her cup.
‘I thought you’d be interested,’ Lucy shrugged. ‘Women have always been interested in Alexis. I’ve known him since we were children, and even in those days …’ Her voice trailed away insinuatively. ‘Naturally, being the son of a millionaire makes one terribly eligible, but it’s not just that with Alexis, is it? I mean, I’d want him even if he hadn’t a sou!’
Karen finished her coffee rather quickly. Now she understood. She wasn’t exactly being warned off Alexis, although there was an air of possessiveness in Lucy’s voice when she spoke of him; but rather she was being informed, very politely, that any aspirations she might have in that direction were all right so long as she didn’t expect marriage as part of the bargain.
Having got that off her chest, Lucy changed the subject completely and began asking Karen about her school work, showing an assumed interest in methods of education today as compared to several years ago.
But Karen was no longer in a mood for casual conversation, and as soon as she reasonably could she rose to her feet. ‘I must be going,’ she said, her voice rather tight. ‘Thank you for the coffee – and the conversation.’
Lucy made no effort to detain her. ‘Good-bye, Karen,’ she responded easily. ‘I expect we’ll run into one another again some time.’
