Princess

by Alison Fraser

  It was probably the only thing that could have made Nancy leave Serena in the same room with Julia—the need to warn Adam. For as unpredictable as her son could be, the last few months made it certain that his reaction would be far from favourable to Julia’s return.

  ‘And has Adam been taking you for a little jaunt in his car, dear?’Julia continued in the same painful tone when Nancy had scurried out of the lounge.

  It made Serena shrink instinctively away from the woman’s cloying sweetness and brought her back to full awareness. ‘I think you’ve made a mistake,’ she declared with an incisive clarity. ‘I have all my faculties, mental and physical. I can read, write and count backwards from a hundred on a good day.’ She was being shockingly rude, and she didn’t care. The hurt was unbearable, for there was only one person from whom this dreadful woman could have gained the belief that she was a simpleton.

  ‘So I hear,’ Julia eventually managed, and stared hard and calculatingly at the sharp-eyed opponent confronting her. The girl’s features seemed more than a little familiar, but she could not place why. ‘Adam was so touchy whenever I mentioned you, I assumed...’ she left it hanging in mid-air as she connected Serena with a certain portrait, and murmured speculatively, ‘I obviously misread the situation.’

  But Serena no longer cared what Julia thought as the pendulum swung back in Adam’s favour at the word touchy, and when he literally burst into the room, part of her heart went out to him as his eyes, protective and caring, sought her out first. Within seconds it was crushed.

  Before Adam could fend her off, Julia threw her arms up and kissed him on the lips. Roughly he tore her hands from his neck and pushed her away.

  ‘Darling, you’re not still mad with me, are you?’ Julia purred seductively, and damned him by glibly lying, ‘And I’ve come back to England just as you wanted!’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Serena mumbled, embarrassed at witnessing Julia’s passionate embrace and tears already moistening her eyelashes. She didn’t see the arms outstretched to her as she hurried out of the room.

  Julia’s shrill laughter stopped Adam from following. ‘Emotional little thing—the mad cousin. Quite pretty in a washed-out sort of way.’ It was said to evoke a response, and Julia got more than she bargained for as Adam wheeled round, eyes blazing.

  ‘You’ve got exactly five minutes to tell me what you’re doing here,’ he gritted out.

  ‘That’s not very welcoming, Adam darling,’ she pouted with false sweetness. ‘Gerry told me you were staying up here and I thought... well, absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that.’

  She really was unbelievable. ‘Where’s Melvin?’ Julia arched her pencil-thin eyebrows, and he added derisively, ‘The fat rich producer you married.’

  ‘Oh—that Melvin. Getting fatter and richer in London,’ she laughed wickedly, ‘while I visit my sick mother in Yorkshire.’

  Adam didn’t flatter himself. Julia was bored, and looking for excitement any way she could get it.

  ‘Well, your sick mother has just recovered,’ he stated flatly, ‘and she’s about to drive you down to the station. Where are your bags?’

  ‘How cruel! And after I’ve come all the way up to this dreary place to let bygones be bygones,’ Julia simpered, lips pouting, and resumed her seat to reach for her cigarettes. ‘I would have thought you’d welcome some entertainment, darling.’

  ‘Julia, I don’t seem to be making myself clear. You’re leaving. Tonight. Now!’ he stressed the last. ‘I don’t need any entertainment, at least none that you could provide.’

  At last Julia understood that Adam meant to reject her, although the message had needed to penetrate several layers of vanity.

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ she sneered, carelessly flicking ash on the carpet. ‘The sweet young thing.’

  Julia!’ he warned.

  ‘Cradle-snatching. Still, you’re the right age for it,’ she said bitterly, her catlike eyes narrowing. ‘But I can’t see that skinny body amusing you in bed for long.’

  He should have been used to her bitchiness, but when applied to Serena he found it intolerable. Just shut up!’ he shouted angrily, giving credence to pure speculation. ‘Leave Serena out of this!’

  ‘How touching! Does the object of your love return it, I wonder?’ She smiled mockingly at him, knowing that his mother being in the house gave her immunity against the storm brewing in his dark eyes.

  Adam cursed himself for giving her a stick with which to beat him, but he would not deny his love as though he was ashamed of it.

  ‘What have you been saying to her?’ he demanded threateningly.

  ‘Nothing that wasn’t fit for the delicate infant’s ears.’ Julia was enjoying sniping at Serena, for Adam’s obvious preference more than rankled. It brought back memories, conveniently forgotten when she had became bored with London and Melvin, of his indifference in America and before. ‘Although I must say she did seem rather piqued that I believed her to be ga-ga.’

  Julia’s soft insidious remark unintentionally transformed Adam’s rising fury to a mute despair at a vision of Serena, wild and hurting at the misconception he had never corrected. He lost total interest in Julia, crossing to the drinks cabinet and pouring himself a stiff drink. He downed it in one swallow.

  Julia was not so easily dismissed; she arrived at his side when he was refilling his glass, with a caustic, ‘Still drinking, I see.’

  It revived his lost year in Hollywood, and killed the taste for another drink. ‘I’ll drive you back to Leeds,’ he muttered coolly, shrugging off the hand that had appeared on his sleeve.

  ‘Like an unwanted piece of baggage. I wonder what the child will think of such uncivilised behaviour.’ Julia’s face was alive with malice. ‘It’s almost as though you were afraid to have me in the house.’

  Adam immediately saw her implication: if he showed himself so anxious to be rid of Julia, it might suggest he nurtured some feeling for his ex-girl-friend. The only emotion he felt was a hard contempt, but would others see it that way?—and Julia was determined to have the situation such that she did not lose face.

  He compromised. ‘You can stay one night, but you leave first thing in the morning.’

  ‘I thought you might see it my way, darling,’ she mocked his weakness with a twisted smile. ‘Mustn’t give the impression that you still want me to... anyone.’

  ‘Dinner’s at eight,’ he replied with heavy restraint. It was going to be a long evening and for once he hoped that Serena had made arrangements to go out with John Saxon.

  ‘I must go and change, darling.’ Julia’s mind was already ticking over on how to put the competition well back in the shade. ‘Your mother’s already shown me my room.’

  No doubt his mother had been backed into a corner by Julia’s unrepentant nerve. With incredulity he finally asked, ‘You didn’t really believe I’d welcome you back?’

  ‘Not on a permanent basis,’ Julia admitted freely, but continued, as she closed the gap between them, ‘But in one department we used to get along quite well.’

  ‘My memory doesn’t stretch that far back,’ Adam responded cuttingly, after setting her firmly at arm’s length. He had never loved her and now found it inconceivable that he had once found her attractive.

  ‘We’ll see,’ Julia declared with a soft menace, before swaying out of the room.

  He was left in no doubt that her innuendoes meant trouble and prayed that his mother was upstairs right at this minute, following his instruction to persuade Serena to go out for dinner. He had caught the anguish when he had entered the room and seen the tears held back while she ran to the door—and Julia had only been alone with her for minutes!

  Nancy Carmichael was fervently praying for the end of the meal. Nervously her attention shifted between the other occupants of the room as if she was in the presence of a time bomb that threatened explosion at any moment.

  The contrast between the two women in her son’s life was striking. Julia was dressed in a chic
off-the-shoulder gown, singularly inappropriate for the occasion. While Serena, surprisingly adamant about her intention to dine in, appeared to have selected her wardrobe with the express purpose of being as nondescript as possible—her lack of sophistication emphasised by a simple blouse topping slightly worn red velvet trousers and her hair bound tightly into a long braid.

  After several unsuccessful attempts to catch her eye, Adam had adopted a cool impersonal mask and, for the most part, concentrated on pointedly ignoring Julia’s efforts to engage him in conversation. Nancy was left to act as reluctant hostess, and by the dessert, it almost seemed the meal could be completed without any major outburst of the tension that electrified the atmosphere.

  ‘How old are you anyway, sweetie?’ Julia asked suddenly, addressing the younger woman for the first time since the meal began.

  Serena looked up, startled by her abrupt inclusion in the conversation. ‘Twenty-one next birthday,’ she offered reluctantly.

  ‘You look somehow... younger. Doesn’t she, Adam darling?’ And without giving him the opportunity to comment, she pressed on, ‘And have you a job? So many girls do these days.’ She made it sound like a practice to be despised.

  ‘I’m at college,’ Serena managed to reply, before...

  ‘Oh, how clever! And what are you studying? No, don’t tell me. Let me guess.’ Julia made a show of reflection, her narrowed appraisal successfully stripping the girl opposite to the bone. ‘I know—domestic science. So useful—an asset many men consider almost as important as beauty— or at least as a compensation for its absence.’ Despite being fundamentally a stupid woman, Julia had spent a lifetime perfecting her ability to incisively undermine any female who got in her way. In such a few ostensibly polite remarks, she had conveyed the impression that Serena was both plain and stupid.

  ‘Really, Julia, must you badger my... ward?’ Adam struggled, reaching for a means to divert the direction of the conversation.

  ‘Ward?’ Julia’s laughter, brittle and derisive, registered suspended disbelief. ‘Well, that’s a new word for it, darling!’

  Nancy, on the verge of challenging Julia’s insinuation, was discouraged by the slight shake of Adam’s head in silent warning. Instead it was Serena who took it up as Adam had been scared she would; meekness was not one of her character traits.

  ‘What does that mean, Mrs Hamlisch? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the subtleties of sophisticated small talk.’ It should have been a very definite discouragement, but for the fact that the implied insult washed completely over Julia’s insensitive head.

  ‘Oh, honey pie, you’re such an innocent,’ Julia drawled with shades of a transatlantic twang. ‘Still, with Adam’s expert coaching that should be soon rectified.’

  ‘I suppose it was too much to expect you to behave in a civilised manner for a whole evening,’ Adam said icily, losing hope of avoiding a scene.

  ‘Coming from you, that’s rich, darling. I wonder if the dear child has had the dubious pleasure of your company when you’re on one of your alcoholic binges. Perhaps we should compare notes, as ex and current mistresses...’ Julia left it hanging, satisfied that he would be jolted out of his infuriating indifference.

  She got her wish as the wine glass she had been toying with was sent flying from her hand and she gaped open-mouthed at the hand lifting to strike. The action was inhibited, not by his mother’s horrified protest, but by catching the expression of hurt that Serena wore as she desperately pushed out of her chair and ran to the door.

  Adam was torn between the need to throw Julia bodily out of the house and the desire to follow Serena. The decision was taken out of his hands.

  ‘I’m scared. Go after her, Adam,’ his mother exhorted anxiously.

  Deaf to Julia’s disgusted mutter of ‘Such a baby!’ he ran up the staircase. Assuming he would find Serena weeping on her bed he was chilled by the emptiness of the room. Intuitively he went to the window and peered out into the night. Within seconds he was reacting to the light that flickered in the darkness and taking the shortest route to the studio by the scullery door.

  She stood at the old wooden table, ripping up sketches with a desperation that scattered the pieces to the floor.

  ‘For God’s sake, stop it, Princess!’ he snapped, confusing command and appeal in his tone. Wresting the remaining drawings from her frantic grasp, he dropped them back on the table—and was thrown momentarily off balance by the picture of his own distinctive features staring up at him.

  Serena’s tear-streaked face blazed anger and without fear she wildly attacked him, her fists raining blows on his broad chest. ‘I hate you! I hate you, Adam Carmichael!’ she screamed up at him.

  Catching her wrists, more to stop her hurting herself than because of any pain she was managing to inflict, Adam merely succeeded in transferring her method of assault. Using her feet as weapons, she unrestrainedly kicked out with painful accuracy. Grabbing her by the waist, Adam swung her off her feet and into his arms: keeping her off balance seemed the only way of blunting her attack.

  ‘Put me down!’ she commanded, mustering as much dignity as was possible in the circumstances, but squirming so much she was likely to topple them both over.

  He carried her over to a threadbare armchair in a corner of the studio and carefully eased them both down, frustrating her immediate struggle to get free.

  ‘Calm down,’ he soothed, as she suddenly went rigid. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’

  Her ironic laughter had more than an element of hysteria and was quickly replaced by gulping sobs when she abruptly gave up any resistance and collapsed into his arms. He gathered her closer until her head was curled under his chin and held her tightly while her tears soaked his shirt. That she sought his comfort brought a strange joy that warred with the guilt of having caused her misery. He wanted to cry, and laugh, too, but stayed very quiet and still, waiting for her crying to subside.

  Serena blew her nose in his handkerchief and bit back more tears as he gently rocked her.

  ‘Still hate me?’ he whispered softly against her forehead.

  Very slowly she moved her head from side to side against his chest, but when she tried her voice, it sounded low and fierce. ‘I hate her, though!’

  It was an emotion Adam wholeheartedly shared at that precise moment, but his own anger was secondary to the need to explain the scene at dinner.

  ‘Listen, Princess—as you probably know, Julia was once my mistress. We didn’t part on particularly good terms and unfortunately she’s chosen you as a way to get back at me. But it’s nothing personal to you—a wild, crazy accusation even she doesn’t believe.’

  Her reply was totally unanticipated as she lifted her head. ‘You’re like her—you think I’m too young and stupid to know what’s going on,’ she muttered, anger beneath the unhappiness, and he did not try to detain her when she wriggled out of his arms and moved away from him.

  With quick, jerky movements she started to clear the mess she had made and replaced the ripped and crumpled drawings back on the table, then just as suddenly stopped what she was doing to grip hard on to the edge. She did not turn as Adam approached, but neither did she shrug off the hands that he laid gently on her shoulders.

  ‘She wanted to make me look gauche and childish in your eyes,’ Serena mumbled dejectedly, staring down at the torn sketches, ‘and she succeeded.’

  ‘Oh, little one...’ Adam groaned. It was the worst endearment he could have used in the circumstances.

  ‘Stop treating me like a child!’ Her back went ramrod stiff under his fingers. ‘She wants you back, doesn’t she? For you to go away with her?’

  Adam obeyed her request in his frankness. ‘No, she’s married now to a Hollywood producer, and knowing her husband, the happy event was preceded by a trip to his lawyers to ensure she doesn’t get a penny in the event of a divorce. She knows she wouldn’t get the financial security of a marriage certificate from me.’

  She had half turned to read
his expression and, frowning, asked, ‘Then why has she come to see you?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Adam sighed. He didn’t want to go into his past with Serena, but his evasion was met with a sharp, ‘Are you still in love with her?’ and when he failed to answer straight away, was followed with an embarrassed, ‘I’m sorry, I have no right to ask. It’s none of my business.’

  ‘You’re still not giving people a chance, Princess,’ he chided mildly, trailing a finger over the worried crease of her brow. ‘I’m not still in love with her, because I never was. As you’ve noticed, she’s not a very lovable person.’

  ‘You lived with her,’ Serena stated quizzically.

  Again Adam was confronted with the black and white certainty of youth, but this time he did not duck the issue.

  ‘Julia is a beautiful woman whom I met at a party about three years ago. We had an adult affair based on mutual benefit without the complication of love. It was already entering its death throes before I went to America, but she followed me there because she’d come to the end of her first divorce settlement.’ Serena was absorbing it all, but what she was making of his dry words, it was impossible to tell. Adam read her next question, however, and pre-empted it with, ‘At that period my self-respect was at an all-time low. I was on my way down and I didn’t really care enough to shake off Julia.’

  Serena continued to look steadily up at him and he wondered if she was searching for other signs of weakness when she declared very seriously, ‘But you’re on your way up now, aren’t you, Adam?’

  Sometimes he didn’t understand where her questions were leading, hadn’t quite figured out the half child, half woman that was Serena Templeton, but a glimmer of hope had been born over the last few weeks.

  ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’ His smile wasn’t returned, but she seemed more contemplative than annoyed as she averted her attention to piecing together two halves of the uppermost sketch. He aimed for casualness.