by Anne Mather
Not if I have anything to do with it, thought Karen to herself bitterly, and with a faint smile marched to the door and went out. Even the smell of exhaust fumes and the icy chill of the air was preferable to the expensive aroma of Lucy’s perfume.
The following week her father returned to work, and he came home on his first evening grumbling that in his absence Ian Halliday had been allowed to do his job.
‘Bloody insolence!’ he muttered. ‘Trying to make out I’m not needed – that Halliday can take my place at any time!’
Laura set a steaming steak and kidney pudding down on the table and gave him a wry smile. ‘Made a mess, has he?’
Her husband fidgeted irritably with his knife and fork. ‘I didn’t say that exactly.’
‘What Pop means is that Ian’s coped admirably in his absence,’ remarked Karen, with an attempt at facetiousness.
Her father gave her a quelling look. ‘I didn’t mean any such thing! He’s done well enough, I suppose, but he doesn’t work as I do. It will take me weeks to get back into the swing of things again.’
‘Well, what do you normally do if you’re off?’ asked Laura.
‘When Jeff was there, he used to keep my work in order,’ retorted her husband. ‘But Whitney’s given young Ian a free hand, if you ask me.’
‘Surely that’s reasonable!’ exclaimed Karen, in spite of her intention to remain silent. ‘He’s got to learn somehow.’
‘Leave it, Karen.’ Her mother looked at her exasperatedly. ‘And you too, Dan. Heavens, it’s been marvellous these past weeks that you’ve been off work. I’ve not heard a thing about lost bales of Australian fleece or blend sheets that won’t add up! Let’s keep it that way, shall we?’
Karen’s father shrugged, and set about carving the steak and kidney pie. The subject was dropped and yet Karen thought it was just another example of how, since his return to Wakeley, Alexis Whitney had invaded their lives.
On Thursday evening, Karen was walking out of school as usual, with Ray, when the man who seemed to be occupying such a lot of her thoughts lately stepped out of the shadows to confront them. In the light that spilled from the wide porch he looked disturbingly attractive, a thick cream anorak and denim trousers accentuating the lean length of his legs. He gave Ray a casual word of greeting and then turned to Karen.
‘Your father’s working late this evening. He tried to ring your mother, but apparently the phone’s out of order. In any event, I was coming this way, so I offered to let you know.’
Karen was taken aback. ‘Well, thank you.’ She glanced awkwardly at Ray. ‘I – I hope you haven’t had to wait long.’
‘No. I’ve only just arrived. I was about to come inside looking for you.’ Alexis was faintly smiling, and she wondered why. He looked at Ray. ‘Just on your way home?’
It was an attempt at dismissal and Ray looked indignantly at Karen, waiting for her to explain.
‘Oh – Ray always runs me home,’ she said hastily. ‘I don’t have any transport, you see.’
Alexis looked down at the pile of books in her arms. ‘You live near Karen, do you, Mr. Nichols?’
‘Not particularly.’ Karen could tell that Ray was resenting being questioned like this. ‘But I always see her safely home.’
Alexis nodded. ‘I see. Well, I’ll save you the trouble this evening. I’m going in her direction myself.’
Karen shivered, as much with expectation as cold, but Ray seemed to take it as an indication that she was tired of standing talking. Turning to her, he said: ‘Is that all right with you, Karen?’ in a stiff voice.
Karen sighed. ‘I expect so,’ she replied unhappily. After all, what else could she say?
Ray shrugged. ‘Okay. Then I’ll be getting along. Will I see you later?’
‘Of course you will.’ Karen touched his arm appealingly. ‘You’re coming round, aren’t you?’
‘Very well.’ Ray tucked up the collar of his coat. ‘Good night – Mr. Whitney. See you about eight, Karen.’
‘Fine.’ Karen smiled encouragingly, and watched as he made his way across the quadrangle to where the teachers parked their cars. Then she turned to Alexis. ‘Shall we go?’
Alexis nodded lazily, and lifted the pile of exercise books out of her arms. ‘Come on,’ he said, offering her his free hand. ‘It’s rather slippery, so be careful.’
Karen hesitated only a moment before reluctantly putting her hand into his. She was wearing gloves, but he was not, and his fingers closed firmly round hers.
‘Hi, Karen! Are you waiting for Ray? I think he’s gone.’
The light but inquisitive tones arrested them, and Karen turned unwillingly to face Shirley Scott. ‘Hello, Shirley! Yes, Ray has gone. He left a few minutes ago.’
‘Oh, I see. What a pity!’ Shirley’s observant gaze missed nothing. ‘I was going to ask him for a lift.’
Ignoring Karen’s surreptitious attempts to extract her hand from his, Alexis said: ‘Can we give you a lift?’
Shirley dimpled, ‘That’s very kind of you. Are you going into Wakeley?’
‘We can do.’ Alexis was urbane.
‘Well, fine!’ Shirley fell into step beside them. ‘Er – are you Karen’s cousin, by any chance?’
Karen couldn’t look at Alexis, but he seemed unconcerned. ‘No. Why? Do I look like her cousin?’
Shirley giggled. ‘I don’t even know her cousin,’ she admitted. ‘It’s just your voice – it’s similar.’ She glanced at the girl by her side. ‘Isn’t it, Karen?’
Karen shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’
‘You’re a teacher, Miss – Miss—’ Alexis paused.
‘Scott. Shirley Scott.’ She gave Karen another determined stare. ‘No, I’m not a teacher. I’m secretary to the head.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Alexis inclined his head. ‘I suppose that’s an interesting occupation.’
‘Well, it is. But I’m always open to offers!’ Shirley giggled again, and Karen was furious with herself for the surge of jealousy that was sweeping over her. What was the matter with her? She ought to know what Alexis was like by now. And Shirley, too, for that matter …
They reached the Aston Martin and while Alexis unlocked the doors Shirley stood admiring its sleek lines. ‘Will you get in the back, Karen?’ he suggested, tipping forward his seat. ‘Then – Miss Scott can get out more easily.’
‘Of course.’
Karen was curt, but she couldn’t help it. Alexis had put the pile of exercise books on the back seat and as she stumbled getting in, she upset them and they tumbled all about the floor. Cursing silently to herself, she began picking them up again while Shirley got in, and refused to be placated by the other girl’s conspiratorial wink.
‘Karen didn’t tell me your name,’ remarked Shirley, as the powerful car nosed out of the school gates and on to the road.
‘Whitney,’ supplied Alexis briefly. ‘Alexis Whitney.’
‘Oh, then you’re – that is – doesn’t your father own the mill?’
‘That’s right.’ Alexis accelerated away. ‘Where can I drop you?’
Shirley looked about her. ‘Anywhere near the centre, please. Wherever it’s easiest for you to park.’
Alexis stopped in the High Street and Shirley gave him a beaming smile. ‘Thanks very much. This is marvellous!’
‘That’s all right.’ Alexis was deprecatory.
Shirley thrust open the door and got out, then she turned and waved at them both before walking away. Alexis turned to Karen.
‘You can get in the front now,’ he said.
‘Thank you. I’ll stay in the back,’ she retorted, preventing the exercise books from sliding around with her arm.
Alexis regarded her for a moment longer, and then with a shrug he put the car into gear and they swept forward, past where Shirley was waiting to cross the road. She raised her hand, and Alexis acknowledged it with a movement of his head.
But to Karen’s surprise he did not take the next turning for Norfolk Road which l
ed to her parents’ house. Instead, he drove on past the George Hotel and up the road towards Moorcourt.
Leaning forward, she said: ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘We’re going to my house,’ he remarked calmly. ‘For a drink. Then I’ll take you home.’
Karen seethed, ‘I don’t want to go to your house.’
‘That’s too bad. Because we’re there.’
The Aston Martin turned between stone gateposts, similar to those outside the Summerton house some distance up the road, and came to a halt at the foot of shallow stone steps.
Alexis thrust open his door and slid out, and then leaned in to hold forward his seat so that she could get out, too. She considered refusing, but that would have been childish, so with ill-grace she scrambled out. Alexis slammed shut the door and stood looking down at her for a moment.
‘Don’t look so cross,’ he said mockingly. ‘Blake will think I’ve abducted you.’
‘Blake?’ Karen frowned.
‘My man. I can’t exactly say what his title should be. He seems capable of doing anything and everything.’
‘Oh. I see.’ Karen looked up at the grey stone façade of the house. Then she returned her attention to the man at her side. ‘And what about my mother? I thought the idea was to let her know that my father is working late.’
‘There’s plenty of time.’ Alexis put his hand beneath her elbow. ‘Come on! I’m sure you could use a drink. It’s too cold to stand about out here.’
They entered a panelled hall, again similar in design to that of the Summertons, but the furnishings were different, of course. A stocky little man came to greet them, and he looked questioningly at Karen as he welcomed Alexis.
‘Allow me to introduce you to Blake,’ remarked Alexis lazily. ‘Blake, this is Miss Sinclair.’
‘How do you do, miss.’ Blake helped her off with her coat. ‘My, isn’t it a cold evening?’
Karen smiled, appreciating the warmth of the central heating system. ‘It is rather.’
Alexis dropped his anorak over the banister. ‘Have there been any calls?’
‘Only one, sir. From Mr. Howard. He tried to reach you at the mill and couldn’t. He asked if you’d ring him back later.’
Alexis nodded. ‘All right. Thanks.’
‘Will Miss Sinclair be staying to dinner, sir?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ Alexis considered his guest thoughtfully. Flicking back the cuff of his dark green knitted shirt, he consulted his wrist watch. ‘I’ll eat about seven, if that’s suitable.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Alexis signified his dismissal, and then led Karen across the softly carpeted hall and into a room on their right. It was an attractively furnished study, the walls partially book-lined and partially panelled. There was an olive green carpet on the floor, and long curtains of darker green and amber. A huge mahogany desk stood square in the centre of the room with buttoned leather armchairs on either side.
Alexis closed the door and then indicated one of the soft leather chairs. ‘Sit down. Relax. What would you like to drink? Martini, sherry – or something stronger?’
Karen made a careless gesture. ‘Oh, sherry will do.’
Alexis made no demur and crossing to a polished cabinet slid it wide to reveal a comprehensive array of alcohol. As he poured her sherry Karen found herself watching him, realizing that the close-fitting denim trousers were hardly the sort of thing he would wear to the office, even allowing for the fact that that office was in a woollen mill. With sudden intuition, she said: ‘Have you been to work this afternoon?’
Alexis came across with her sherry and handed it to her. ‘That’s a strange question,’ he commented, turning back to pour himself some whisky.
Karen frowned into her drink. ‘Well? Have you?’
Alexis swallowed half his whisky at a gulp. ‘I was in the office approximately an hour ago,’ he replied.
‘Oh.’ She felt rather deflated. Then her eyes strayed over him again, noticing that he had unfastened the neck of his shirt and that the brown skin of his throat was just visible. ‘Do you normally go to the office dressed – well, dressed like that?’
Alexis gave her a tolerant smile. ‘Is something wrong with what I’m wearing?’
‘No. No, you know what I mean.’ Karen sighed.
‘All right. I’ll be honest and admit that my visit was a fleeting one. I’ve spent the day with Will Saunders, the wool buyer, at a rather dubious warehouse on the docks at Hull.’
‘I see.’ Karen sipped her sherry. ‘I – I can’t help feeling surprised, that’s all.’
‘Surprised? About what?’ He was still standing, some distance away from her it was true, but his presence was vaguely intimidating.
‘That – that Daddy should ask you to give me a message.’
‘He didn’t.’ Alexis finished his whisky and poured himself another, flinging himself into an armchair near the door, draping his leg lazily over one arm. ‘I offered to let your mother know.’
Karen turned, staring at him over the rim of her glass. ‘Then – then why—’
‘Why come to the school for you? Guess!’ His tone was sardonic.
Karen placed her unfinished drink on the leather surface of the desk. ‘I wouldn’t presume to do so,’ she replied, in a stiff little voice.
‘No. Because you know why.’ Alexis swallowed more of his whisky. ‘Or do you want me to spell it Out for you? I wanted to see you.’
Karen rose rather agitatedly to her feet. ‘I don’t think there’s any point in continuing this conversation.’
‘Why not?’ He had not risen, but his eyes were very intent.
‘Because – well, because it’s too – too personal. You brought me here without my permission, for a drink, or so you said. Well, I’ve had a drink, and now I’d like to go home.’
Alexis’s expression grew brooding. ‘Sit down!’ he muttered grimly. ‘And stop behaving as if I was about to rape you! If I decide to do that, I shan’t choose the study of my own home!’
Karen caught her breath. ‘Will you ask Blake to get my coat?’
‘Why are you afraid of me?’
‘I’m not afraid of you.’ Karen twisted her fingers together painfully.
‘Then why are you running away?’
‘This is ridiculous …’
‘I agree.’
He finished his whisky and dropped the glass carelessly on to the carpet. Karen looked at it in amazement, her first instincts to go and pick it up again. It was such an exquisite piece of crystal, and he had discarded it without a second thought. Surely that ought to tell her something, she thought desperately. With a helpless shrug of her slim shoulders she moved towards the door. Blake would give her her coat, and she could easily walk home. It wasn’t all that far.
But as she passed Alexis he moved with deceptive swiftness and reaching out, caught her wrist, pulling her down on top of him in the comfortable chair. Karen was taken by surprise, but she struggled furiously, pressing her hands against his chest, trying to get away from him. She could feel the hard muscles of his thighs beneath hers, and smell the warmth of his body. He was half smiling, restraining her effortlessly, and she felt a hopeless sense of inevitability.
‘Let me go!’ she demanded tremulously. ‘I’m not one of your women! You should have invited Shirley for a drink! She would have appreciated this!’
‘And don’t you?’ he inquired lazily, his fingers round the soft flesh of her upper arms, holding her a couple of inches away from him.
‘No. No, I – I hate you!’
‘You don’t hate me, Karen,’ he murmured, his thumbs moving rhythmically against the thin material of the white blouse she was wearing. ‘You hate yourself because I can make you feel this way.’
‘What way?’ she choked indignantly.
‘Oh, Karen, you know – what way—’
He jerked her towards him then, imprisoning her hands against his chest, his mouth fastening on to hers with co
mpulsion. She clenched her teeth desperately, pressing her lips together, but it was useless. Alexis was standing for no resistance this time. One hand moved across her shoulder to her neck, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding inside to grip her throat caressingly. His fingers were hard and cool against her flesh and Karen felt an awful weakness overwhelming her as she sank lower in the chair beneath his weight. When he released her mouth and lowered his head to kiss her throat she caught the skin at the side of his neck between her teeth and bit as hard as she could.
Blood spurted into her mouth and his yell of pain erupted as she let him go. The diversion gave her a moment to struggle free of him and she sped across the room to stand panting against the farthest wall. Alexis was levering himself up in the chair, a hand pressed to his neck through the fingers of which she could see blood oozing stickily. A sense of remorse gripped her as she watched him, and with trembling lips, she said: ‘You’d better go to the bathroom. It seems to be bleeding quite a lot.’
Alexis’s face was grim. ‘You little—’ He bit off an epithet, bringing down his hand and regarding the blood impatiently.
Karen put a hand to her throat, a sickly feeling invading her stomach. Now that she could see what she had done, she felt worse than ever. The punctures she had made showed up red against the unnaturally pale area around, and blood was running freely down to his collar.
‘Do you want me to – to bathe it for you?’ she asked uneasily.
Alexis rose to his feet, but although she stepped backward in alarm, he did not approach her. He went instead to the desk, lifting a silver cigar case out of a drawer and opening it used the shiny interior as a kind of mirror.
‘My God!’ he muttered furiously. ‘What the hell did you do that for?’
Karen drew a trembling breath. ‘May I go home now?’
‘Yes – go!’ He looked at her with dislike. ‘Blake will take you. I’ll speak to him.’
‘That’s not necessary. I can walk.’
‘I said Blake will take you.’ His tone brooked no refusal and she watched helplessly as he found some tissues to salve the bleeding and then opened the door to the hall. ‘Blake!’
