No Gentle Possession

by Anne Mather

  ‘Do I?’ The tawny eyes were penetrating. ‘Why did you stay with me, Karen?’

  The question was so unexpected that she took a backward step away from the bed before replying. ‘I – I was concerned about you.’

  ‘Were you?’ He sat up and leaning forward caught her fingers before she realized what he was about to do. Playing with them, he said: ‘Aren’t you afraid I may decide to tell friend Nichols?’

  Karen shook her head firmly. ‘You wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why should you?’

  Alexis shrugged, lying back on his pillows but retaining his hold on her hand so that she had to move nearer the bed. ‘Perhaps I meant what I said last night. Perhaps I do want to marry you.’

  Karen flushed. ‘Don’t say things like that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you don’t mean them, and besides – I don’t want to marry you.’

  Alexis’s eyes narrowed. ‘No?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Lots of reasons.’

  ‘Most particularly?’

  ‘I – I don’t love you.’

  ‘Is that so important?’ His tone was harsh.

  ‘Of course it is,’ she retorted indignantly.

  ‘Why? I can give you anything you’ve ever dreamed about materially—’

  ‘I’m not interested in marriage for those reasons!’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No.’ Karen made an involuntary gesture. ‘Of course, you can’t understand that, can you? The society you move in bases success and happiness on that maxim, doesn’t it?’

  Alexis’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you know about the society I move in?’ he asked disparagingly, resisting her attempts to pull her hand free.

  ‘You’ve only to read the newspapers,’ she replied shortly.

  ‘And you believe what you read in the newspapers?’

  ‘Some things – yes.’

  ‘About me?’

  ‘Look, this is silly. Please – drink your tea before it gets cold.’

  Alexis ignored her, and with slow deliberate movements raised her hand to his lips, kissing each of her fingers in turn. Karen felt an awful sense of weakness in her lower limbs, but she determinedly forced mundane things into her mind.

  ‘If you’ll let go of my hand I’ll go and get you some water for washing and shaving—’

  ‘I am perfectly capable of visiting the bathroom myself, thank you,’ he returned ironically, sliding his fingers over her wrist and up her arm, systematically drawing her nearer the bed. ‘Come here.’

  ‘No! Alexis—’ But her protest was lost in a gasp of dismay as he pulled her down beside him, and rolled over so that the whole weight of his body was imprisoning hers. With one hand he deftly secured both of hers above her head and then looked mockingly down into her face.

  ‘Well?’ he challenged huskily. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  Karen moved her head restlessly from side to side. ‘Let me go,’ she demanded helplessly. ‘Don’t you have any shame? I came here to – to see if you were all right. I stayed to look after you. And this is how you repay me—’

  ‘You shouldn’t expect any decency from someone like me,’ he taunted her, putting his mouth to the curve where her shoulder met her neck. ‘Isn’t this exactly how you expect me to behave?’

  ‘Yes! Yes, it is!’ She gulped. ‘And – and you talked about marriage! I – I wouldn’t marry anyone like you even if you offered me the Crown Jewels! You don’t care about anyone except yourself. I – I hate you!’

  His free hand closed round her throat, gripping it with painful insistence as he said: ‘Why should I marry a woman who’s quite prepared to go to bed with me without that legalizing scrap of paper?’

  ‘There are – other things in marriage!’ she gasped.

  ‘Are there? And are you going to tell me also that sex is a very small part of that arrangement!’

  ‘Well – well, it is.’

  His lips twisted. ‘Really? Well, let me tell you something, unless that – and you know what I mean by that – is right, everything else is wrong! You tell me differently, and you’re not talking about marriage. You’re talking about two individuals living in the same house – legally.’

  ‘For someone who despises it, you seem to know an awful lot about it,’ Karen exclaimed, breathing hard.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t despise it. Just its applications in certain circumstances. Do you know the definition of the word? It means an intimate association – the provision for procreation and sexual gratification. Would you exclude those principles?’

  Karen twisted her body with difficulty. ‘And you think that excuses your behaviour, is that it?’

  ‘I’m not trying to justify my actions to you, I don’t have to.’ He bent his head and touched her mouth with his, playing with her lips until she felt her head lifting involuntarily from the pillow to increase that disturbing pressure. But he drew back, and she hated herself for showing him how easily he could arouse her.

  ‘I – I – let me go!’ She took a shaking breath. ‘My mother will be expecting me back this morning!’

  ‘You’ll be back,’ he murmured lazily. ‘Perhaps a little more experienced than when you left—’

  ‘You – you wouldn’t dare!’ she choked.

  ‘Wouldn’t I?’ His expression was derisive. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Alexis—’ Her voice broke, and suddenly he rolled away from her, turning on to his back, staring grimly up at the ceiling.

  For a few moments Karen just lay there, unable to will movement into her lethargic limbs. But finally she came to her senses and scrambled off the bed, smoothing her skirt, fastening the loosened neck of her blouse. She stood for a minute looking down at him, and then she said: ‘Do you want some fresh tea?’

  He turned cold amber eyes upon her, and she felt herself shrink at that bitter appraisal. ‘Just get out of here!’ he muttered, and without a backward glance she went. Although Karen disliked deceiving her parents there was no way she could tell them that she had spent the night in Alexis Whitney’s house. Apart from anything else she realized that they were like Alexis’s father in that respect; they would never believe she had slept there without sharing his bed.

  Instead, she gave them the news they wanted to hear, using Melanie as a substitute, and prayed that they would not discover that six weeks ago Melanie had left Wakeley to go and work in Newcastle.

  During the following week her father informed both her and her mother that Alexis was back at work.

  ‘Four days he had off, that was all,’ Daniel Sinclair muttered fiercely, ‘plus the week-end, of course. He made me have four weeks.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Dan,’ exclaimed Karen’s mother clicking her tongue. ‘It was the doctor who made you stay off, not Alexis Whitney. In any case, I’m relieved to hear he’s better. I don’t like the thought of anyone being ill.’

  ‘Huh!’ Her husband sounded less convinced. ‘He’s barely through the door again before he’s talking about getting these time and motion study chaps from London to come and take a look at this idea of his for doing away with the conveyor.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Laura chuckled. ‘That’s what’s upsetting you, is it? I thought it wasn’t just the fact that he’s back at work. How is he feeling anyway?’

  Karen’s father grunted and took out his pipe. ‘The devil looks after his own, I daresay,’ he muttered. ‘Anyway, things have worked well enough over the years, so why can’t he leave well alone now?’

  ‘Oh, Dan!’

  Karen’s mother sounded impatient and Karen herself, who had been sitting in an armchair by the fire studying some textbooks, rose to her feet and left the room. She couldn’t bear to hear her parents discussing Alexis without feeling an awful sense of depression at the knowledge that one way or another she had succeeded in destroying any kind of relationship between them. The past few nights this realization had i
nterfered with her sleep and while she could tell herself that she had been right to behave the way she had, and that Ray was worth a dozen Alexis Whitneys, nevertheless there had been something in their association that by its erasure had left her feeling completely flat.

  The weather was improving rapidly, and all traces of snow had disappeared. It was half-term at the comprehensive school that week-end and Karen was eager to accept Ray’s suggestion that they spent the week-end in the Lake District. They had done this other years, staying at youth hostels, associating with other young people with similar interests, spending their days walking over the fells. It was exactly what Karen needed; the exertion, the air, the escape from the confines of Wakeley. Certainly, she slept better that week-end than she had done for some time, physically exhausted, and deaf to the stirrings of her conscience.

  She returned to school feeling refreshed and grateful to Ray for his gentle, undemanding company.

  But her brief period of relaxation was short-lived. On Friday morning there was a telephone call for her during her history period, and Shirley Scott looked at her rather knowingly as she agreed to take charge of the class until Karen’s return.

  It was Alexis Whitney again, as she had known it would be, and her hand shook as she raised the receiver to her ear.

  ‘Karen? Is that you?’

  ‘Yes. What do you want?’ Her voice was stilted. ‘I told you – we’re not supposed to have private calls during working hours.’

  ‘Would you rather I came to meet you, then? I thought that didn’t suit you either. As I recall it, we offended Nichols and created speculation in other quarters.’ His tone was dry, but at least he sounded well again, and she despised the feeling of relief that gave her.

  ‘What do you want? I thought – that is – I can’t think why you should want to contact me.’

  ‘Can’t you?’ He paused a moment. ‘I need to see you. I have something I want to discuss with you, but not on the telephone. Will you have lunch with me?’

  ‘Today?’ She was shocked.

  ‘Yes, today. What time do you have lunch?’

  ‘I – I usually eat in the canteen—’

  ‘I didn’t ask where you usually ate. I asked what time.’

  ‘I know that.’ Karen was stung by his arrogance. ‘In any case, I haven’t agreed to have lunch with you.’

  ‘Karen, I need to see you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll explain when I see you.’

  ‘Why can’t you explain now?’

  ‘Karen!’It was a command.

  ‘Oh, very well. We break from twelve-thirty until two.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll pick you up at the gates at – say – twelve-thirty-five, right?’

  Karen hesitated. ‘All right.’

  ‘Good.’ He sounded satisfied and she heard his receiver being replaced.

  She replaced her own and sat staring at the phone mutinously. What could he want to speak to her about? Why should he need to do so? She had given up any thought of ever seeing him again, except in passing, so to speak, and now he had destroyed all her newfound release in one fell swoop.

  She looked down at what she was wearing critically and felt a ridiculous sense of pleasure that she had chosen to wear her green suède waistcoat and matching skirt that morning. Teamed with a red polo-necked sweater they looked very attractive, the outfit being completed by knee-length soft red leather boots.

  With an impatient exclamation she got to her feet. What did it matter what she was wearing? After her last encounter with Alexis Whitney she doubted whether his reasons for wanting to see her again had anything to do with her personally. Perhaps it concerned her father.

  Shirley regarded her tolerantly when she returned to the history class. ‘Your cousin again, I suppose.’

  Karen sighed. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Not to me. But you’re taking a chance, you know,’ the other girl retorted sharply.

  ‘What do you mean–’

  ‘I mean Ray – that’s what I mean!’

  Karen flushed. ‘I don’t see that it’s any concern of yours.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Shirley’s eyes were challenging. ‘There are those among us who find one man more than adequate.’

  ‘You don’t understand, Shirley.’ Karen gathered her papers together rather impatiently.

  ‘Oh, but I do. If you’re playing fast and loose with Ray, then he has every right …’ Her voice trailed away suddenly and Karen looked up.

  ‘Every right to what?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh – nothing.’ Now it was Shirley’s turn to look embarrassed.

  Karen frowned. ‘Are you trying to tell me something, Shirley?’

  ‘No. No, of course not.’

  Karen wasn’t altogether satisfied and would have liked to have questioned her further, but just at that moment the bell rang signifying the end of the period. The pupils began gathering their books together and in the noise and confusion that ensued Shirley slipped away.

  As luck would have it, Ray wasn’t about when she went to tell him she would not be dining in the canteen after all. It was unfortunate, but she could explain when she returned, she told herself, ignoring the rather guilty feeling which always assailed her when she was associating with Alexis Whitney.

  Leaving her coat unfastened, she slung her suède bag over her shoulder and walked briskly up to the school gates. Those pupils who went home for lunch were thronging out of the quadrangle and she was aware of their curious stares as she walked across to where the dark green Aston Martin was parked. Alexis thrust open the door for her from inside and she slid in thankfully, closing the door behind her.

  Alexis gave her a brief, comprehensive stare and then set the car in motion. For her part, Karen scarcely glanced at him, but all the same she was conscious of his nearness, and of the intimacy that one look from him could engender.

  ‘I thought we’d eat at the Pipes,’ he remarked, naming a hotel just outside of Wakeley which had built up quite a reputation for good food. ‘Does that suit you?’

  ‘So long as I’m back before two,’ replied Karen equably. Then realizing that something more was expected of her, she went on: ‘Are you fully recovered from your illness?’ in rather taut tones.

  ‘Fully, thank you. I gather you haven’t been smitten with the bug yourself.’

  ‘No. I’ve been lucky.’

  Karen looked through the windows. Their conversations always seemed to be like this – either disturbingly personal, or coldly indifferent, like now.

  The Pipes Hotel stood in its own grounds. It had once been a private house, but since then it had been extensively modernized and now possessed an aura of taste and elegance not found in more contemporary buildings.

  Alexis was not wearing an overcoat over his dark business suit, but Karen left her coat in the vestibule and spent a couple of minutes in the ladies’ room checking her make-up before joining him. By common consent they walked into the attractively furnished lounge bar and seated themselves on tall stools by the bar. Karen accepted a Martini, while Alexis had gin and tonic, and covertly studied the other patrons. They were a mixture of business men and women, with a few socialites thrown in for good measure. It was an expensive establishment and in consequence only attracted the more affluent members of Wakeley society.

  Alexis spoke to the bartender, answered the casually called greetings which were addressed to him, or applied himself to his drink. He didn’t speak to Karen, and she couldn’t for the life of her think of anything to say to him, and by the time he had finished his second gin and tonic she was wishing she had not agreed to come. She was still playing with her first Martini, and wondering what on earth he could possibly want to say to her.

  However, it seemed he was now ready for food, for he slid off his stool and said: ‘Are you going to finish that, or shall we go into the restaurant?’

  Karen took a final sip from her glass before pushing it firmly across the counter and taking this as her a
ssent he helped her down from her stool with a casual hand which he withdrew as soon as they began walking out of the bar.

  In the restaurant Karen looked at the menu without really seeing it. The variety of main courses staggered her and she hadn’t the faintest idea what to choose.

  An obsequious waiter appeared at Alexis’s elbow, and leaning across the table, he said: ‘Have you decided what you want?’

  Karen shook her head. ‘I – I can’t choose.’ She hesitated. ‘What are you going to have?’

  Alexis consulted the menu. ‘Fillet steak and salad, I think.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have that, too,’ she murmured hastily.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  His expression darkened impatiently, but then he gave the order to the waiter, adding that they would have soup to begin with.

  The meal was delicious. Even Karen could not fault it, and she found that her appetite was stimulated by the wine Alexis had ordered. But apart from commenting upon the wine and the food, he still said nothing, and she was growing more and more apprehensive, half prepared to believe that whatever he had wanted to say, he had changed his mind about it.

  She refused a liqueur with her coffee, and glanced surreptitiously at her watch. It was a little after one-thirty and it was ten minutes’ drive back to the school. Deciding she had to take the plunge, she said: ‘Are you going to tell me why you invited me here or not?’

  Alexis had been stirring his coffee, staring down into it broodingly; his expression was not encouraging. Now he looked up and the tawny eyes assessed her coldly. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then do you mind getting on with it? It’s gone half past one, and I have to leave here soon after a quarter to two if I’m to be back in time.’

  He flicked the heavy silvery hair back from his forehead with a careless hand and glanced round the restaurant. ‘Very well. It’s quite a simple thing really. I want you to do something for me.’

  ‘Me?’ exclaimed Karen ungrammatically.

  ‘Yes.’ He took the spoon out of his cup and placed it carefully in the saucer. ‘I want you to come to London with me next week-end!’

  CHAPTER EIGHT