by Anne Mather
‘More or less,’ answered Julie wryly. ‘ ‘Bye.’
After she had replaced the receiver she stared at it for several minutes, biting her lip. Obviously Robert had not yet returned from the States or Halbird would have mentioned it. She picked up the telephone directory and searching found the Hillingdons’ number. She stared at it for a long moment. Dared she telephone Francis? What if Pamela answered, or Louise? What excuse could she give for phoning?
Then she thought of his office. He might he there, and if not they could perhaps tell her where she might get in touch with him direct.
The receptionist at the Hillingdon corporation building was very correct. ‘Mr. Hillingdon is in the building, miss,’ she said. ‘But he’s not taking any calls. He’s in conference. Can I take a message?’
Julie sighed. ‘Wouldn’t it be possible for you to tell him I’m calling and ask him when it’s convenient to speak to him?’
The receptionist hesitated. Obviously she was uncertain as to Julie’s identity, even though she had given her name, and to the importance attached to it. ‘Just a minute, miss,’ she said, and cut Julie off from the exchange.
Julie waited impatiently and while she did so Emma came back in, her hands and face clean now, and warm slippers on her feet. ‘Who’re you ringing?’ she whispered.
‘Never mind,’ mouthed Julie.
‘Is it Grandma?’
‘No. Be quiet.’ Julie heaved another sigh. How much longer was she going to have to wait?
It could only have been seconds before she had her reply. Francis’s calm voice came over the wire. ‘Julie? Is that you?’
‘Francis!’ Julie was so relieved she sank down on to the arm of a chair nearby. ‘Heavens, it’s like trying to speak to royalty, getting through to you!’
Francis chuckled. ‘Well, I was in conference,’ he said gently.
‘I know. I’m sorry I disturbed you.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Francis was reassuringly unperturbed. ‘What’s wrong?’
Julie glanced helplessly at Emma and then said: ‘Well, it’s difficult to talk right now. But actually, Miss Lawson has arrived today.’
Francis sounded unconcerned. ‘So what?’
‘Well, surely it’s obvious.’
‘You mean about tonight, of course.’
‘Yes.’ Julie sighed. ‘Oh, Francis, what am I going to do?’
‘You’re going to have dinner with me, of course, what else?’ His tone was firm now.
‘But how can I? She’ll know who you are.’
‘So what?’
‘Francis, please!’
‘Look, Julie, I explained to you before – I don’t care who knows about our association. It’s you I care about.’ He sighed now. ‘Look, if what you mean is you’d rather call it off because of this woman – well, that’s a different matter.’
‘Oh, Francis!’ Julie gripped the phone tightly.
‘Look, if it makes you any happier I’ll suggest to Pamela that she drives over there this afternoon. When she sees Sandra, she’s sure to invite her back, particularly as Robert’s away. How would that be?’
‘Oh, that’s marvellous!’ Julie breathed more easily, and then became aware that Sandra Lawson had entered the room as she was speaking. ‘Look, I – er – I’ve got to go now.’
‘I understand you.’ Francis laughed. ‘Oh, what a tangled web, indeed.’
Julie laughed softly, and rang off. Then she turned to the other girl. ‘Everything all right?’
Sandra seated herself uninvited on the couch. ‘Fine, thanks.’ She looked at Emma. ‘Hello, Emma! We must get to know one another.’
‘Yes.’ Emma was doubtful. ‘Are you going to live here?’
‘That’s right.’ Sandra seemed quite at home. ‘And later on you can show me where we’re going to do our lessons. Has Mummy set a room aside for them?’
Julie cleared her throat. ‘Well, actually, not all the rooms are furnished,’ she said. ‘I – er – Mr. Pemberton thought I would prefer to choose some of my own furnishings. This room and the dining room are furnished downstairs, but upstairs only three of the bedrooms have been furnished. I’m afraid for the time being you’ll have to make do with this room, or the dining room.’
Sandra frowned. ‘Then it will have to be the dining room. We can’t possibly work where there are no tables. Emma will need a firm surface to work on.’
‘Well, I hope to get up to town within the next week or so and choose some fittings,’ said Julie quickly. ‘Perhaps it will not be too much of a hardship, and besides, Emma needs time to get used to the idea. Maybe you could concentrate on more practical things until I’ve had time to organize myself.’
‘But you’ve been here a week, haven’t you?’ the other girl queried insolently.
‘Yes.’ Julie looked up with relief to see Mrs. Hudson entering the room with a tray of coffee. ‘Oh, good. Put it down here, Mrs. Hudson.’
‘Very good, ma’am.’ Mrs. Hudson looked at Emma. ‘Do you want to come and help me make some pastry?’
‘Ooh, yes, can I?’ Emma sprang to her feet, but Sandra Lawson halted her.
‘Emma and I are just getting to know one another, Mrs. Hudson,’ she said sharply.
Julie looked at them all rather wryly. ‘I think Emma’s going to have plenty of time to get to know you, Sandra,’ she said. ‘Go along, darling.’
Emma skipped out of the room after the housekeeper and Sandra gave Julie an intimidating stare. ‘How am I expected to have any control over the child if you’re going to countermand my instructions?’ she asked sharply.
Julie shook her head, refusing to get angry. ‘Allowing Emma to help Mrs. Hudson is not countermanding your instructions. You’ve only just got here, Sandra. Don’t press Emma too hard yet.’ She might have added: Or me either, but she didn’t.
Their conversation after that was stilted. Obviously Sandra was still smarting from a sense of injustice and Julie was engrossed with her thoughts, looking ahead with depressing clarity to years of this woman’s undiluted company. How would she ever stand it?
As Francis had promised, Pamela arrived that afternoon and expressed delight at seeing Sandra. Julie left them together, and sought Mrs. Hudson’s company in the kitchen.
Emma was playing in the garden and Julie watched her silently for a few moments until Mrs. Hudson said: ‘What about tonight, ma’am? Are you still going out?’
‘Yes.’ Julie turned to her. ‘I – er – I spoke to Francis on the phone this morning. He suggested sending Pamela over here this afternoon. They’re old friends, you know, Sandra Lawson and Pamela, and as Robert’s away he thought she might possibly invite Sandra back there for a meal this evening.’
Mrs. Hudson chuckled. ‘Devious!’
‘Yes, it is rather. But I shouldn’t have cared to leave Emma to her on her first night here, apart from the other considerations, of course.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Mrs. Hudson sighed. ‘But if you don’t like her, why have you got her here?’
‘It was Robert’s idea, apparently. I had no choice. He is Emma’s legal guardian.’
‘And no better one,’ commented Mrs. Hudson dryly.
‘What do you mean?’ Julie turned to her, her cheeks flushing.
‘Nothing, ma’am. Just that he’s a suitable person to have charge of the child.’
‘I’m her mother!’
‘I know. But a child needs a man.’
Julie sighed. ‘I see.’ Her colour subsided again.
‘What did you think I meant, Mrs. Pemberton?’
Julie shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ She walked to the door. ‘I’ll go and take a bath. If you want me, you know where I am.’
To Julie’s relief, Pamela did suggest that Sandra might like to dine with them that evening, but she was disconcerted when Pamela went on: ‘Why don’t you come, too, Julie? Daddy’s going out, so there’ll just be the four of us women. We could have a cosy chat.’
Julie doubted whethe
r any chat she could share with these women would be cosy, but she had to think carefully before replying.
‘Actually – actually an old friend rang this morning,’ she said, ‘and suggested calling round this evening. So I don’t think I’d better go out, do you?’
Pamela frowned. ‘I suppose not.’ She rubbed her palms together thoughtfully. ‘An old friend, you say.’
‘Someone I – I used to work with,’ said Julie hastily.
‘At Pembertons?’ Pamela was annoyingly inquisitive.
‘Yes.’
‘Do I know her?’
‘I don’t suppose so.’ Julie hated this. ‘She – she left there some time ago. Er – Valerie Smith.’
‘No, I don’t know the name.’ Pamela shook her head. ‘Well, Sandra, we ought to be going.’
‘Yes.’ Sandra rose to her feet. ‘You’re sure you don’t mind, Mrs. Pemberton?’
‘Of course not.’ Julie just wanted them to go. They were beginning to get on her nerves.
It was with relief she heard Pamela’s car pull away and she went back into the lounge feeling rather limp. Emma climbed on to her knee as she sat down, and she hugged her lovingly.
‘I wish that Miss Lawson wasn’t going to stay with us,’ she said gloomily. ‘Don’t you, Mummy?’
Julie sighed. ‘She’s only the governess, Emma. Nothing’s going to be any different because of her.’
‘I shall have to do lessons.’
‘Yes, well, you would anyway, at school,’ remarked Julie reasonably. ‘But after the lessons are over, everything will be just the same. I promise.’
Emma was asleep before Julie began to get ready for her dinner date. She had mentioned nothing to her about going out, mainly to avoid questions, but Mrs. Hudson had instructions to tell her exactly where she was if she woke up and started to worry.
Julie dressed in a simple gown of cream wool, with long sleeves and a low round neckline, the long skirt of which emphasized the slender curve of her hips and the narrowness of her waist. She had put on a little weight since her arrival in England, and it suited her.
Francis arrived soon after seven and complimented her on her appearance. ‘But then you always look good,’ he remarked dryly, and Julie was pleased.
They dined in town, at quite a well known restaurant, and Julie looked perturbed when several people came to speak to him and looked at Julie with open curiosity.
‘Don’t look so worried!’ he chided her gently. ‘This is a good feeling you’re giving me. I thought I was past the age for such things.’
‘You’re not old,’ protested Julie, laughingly.
‘I’m forty-eight, and you’re what? Twenty-five, twenty-six?’ She nodded. ‘More than twenty years older than you are. Old enough to be your father, in fact.’
Julie put her hand across the table and touched his. ‘Age is only relative,’ she said. ‘You don’t look old, and you don’t act old. Why should you assume you’re any different from anyone else? From me? There are times when I feel positively senile.’
Francis grinned. ‘Like I said, you’re very good for me.’
Later, they danced. The music was slow and languid, and Julie felt relaxed in his arms. She realized she felt affection for him, and the knowledge was warming. She wasn’t in love with him, but their relationship was something special, something good.
He drove her home around midnight, but she didn’t invite him in for a drink. Somehow she sensed that whatever it was she felt for him could easily be confused with the real thing in this mellow, drowsy state she was in, and she wasn’t at all sure that Francis would be able to resist touching her, particularly as part of her longed to be loved. If she encouraged him now, she would surely regret it later.
He drove away as she let herself into the house. There were lights in the lounge, and she guessed Mrs. Hudson was watching the late movie. She thrust open the door, and peeped inside, not wanting to startle her in case she was asleep, and then uttered a gasp of surprise. The lamplit room looked warm and comfortable, and as though to prove it, Robert was stretched out lazily on the couch, fast asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JULIE stared down at his face, relaxed and vulnerable somehow in sleep, for a long time. It was obvious from the lines around his eyes that he had not slept much while he was away, and he looked exhausted.
As her gaze eventually moved round the room, she saw more evidence of his occupation. His jacket was slung carelessly over the back of an armchair while his shoes were kicked haphazardly on to the rug before the hearth. His cigar case and lighter lay on the low table beside the couch together with a dirty cup and a pot of coffee which bore witness to the fact that Mrs. Hudson had provided something for him before she retired. But what was he doing here? Why had he come? When had he arrived back from the States? Not this afternoon, surely, or Pamela would have known.
She looked down at him again, moving silently into the room to stand beside the couch. He had loosened his tie and folded back his shirt cuffs. His shirt was partially unfastened, too, revealing the brown, hair-covered skin of his chest. He looked absurdly young and she felt a compelling desire to touch him, to make him aware of her. But she also knew that once he saw her that cold, cynical expression would enter his eyes and she would feel unutterably devastated.
As though becoming aware of her concentrated scrutiny, his eyes suddenly opened, flickering lazily. Julie stiffened, standing completely still as his gaze steadied and moved up over her to her face.
‘Julie!’ he exclaimed, blinking, still half unaware of his surroundings. He propped himself up on one elbow, frowning in the effort to remember his whereabouts, and then groaned, ‘God, my head!’ and fell back against the cushions again.
Julie was concerned. Seating herself on the edge of the wide couch, she put her hand to his forehead and found it was burning hot. But Robert took her hand and moved it to his cheek, turning his lips into the palm so that she trembled in his grasp. His eyes were half-closed and drowsy, and she was sure he didn’t know what he was doing.
‘Robert,’ she protested half-heartedly, trying to withdraw from him, but he reached out, sliding his hands possessively over her. body, drawing her inexorably down to him. His hand behind her head propelled her mouth to his, and then he rolled over, imprisoning her beneath him, kissing her until she was weak and clinging to him.
‘I want to love you,’ he groaned thickly, burying his face in her hair. ‘I can’t help it. You’re driving me crazy, do you know that?’
The weight of his body on hers was a potent seducement, and Julie wanted to submit. She wanted to let him do what he liked with her and to hell with the consequences. But the thought of Emma, and what the consequences had meant the last time she had let him drown her reason in passion, were sufficient to destroy the intimacy of the moment.
Taking advantage of his momentary weakness, she managed to get her feet to the floor and half slid, half flung herself off the couch. Robert remained where she had left him, watching her as she smoothed her dress over her hips and ran an unsteady hand over her hair. His expression now was daunting.
‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Am I too late this evening? Was Francis all you expected him to be?’
Julie gasped. Picking up a cushion, she flung it at him angrily, following it with a book. ‘How dare you suggest such a thing?’
Robert warded off her missiles and rose to his feet, swaying for a moment as his head obviously pained him. ‘What am I supposed to think?’ he asked bleakly. Then: ‘Why the hell did you go out with him again? What are you trying to do to me?’
‘To you?’ Julie’s breasts rose and fell quickly beneath the soft material of her gown.
‘Yes, to me.’ Robert raked his hair back. ‘God, Julie, don’t you know that the thought of you with another man—’ He broke off. ‘Are you in love with him?’
Julie pressed the palms of her hands to her cheeks. ‘Of course not.’
‘No more than you were i
n love with Michael,’ he muttered violently. ‘God, Julie, it’s just as well you and Michael were in Malaya when I got back from Venezuela or I’d have killed you both!’ He pressed a hand to his head in agony. ‘Oh, lord, have you got anything for a headache? My head feels as though it’s splitting in two!’
Julie hesitated and then sped across the room to the door. She knew Mrs. Hudson had some aspirins in the kitchen. She had seen them on the shelf above the draining board.
When she arrived back with the bottle of aspirins and some water in a glass Robert was stretched out on the couch again. She put down the things on the table beside him and looked down at him doubtfully. ‘How long is it since you had any sleep?’ she asked. ‘Real sleep, I mean. Not just dozing on a couch!’
Robert opened one eye. ‘I don’t know. Two – maybe three days.’
‘But why?’ Julie put her hands on her hips. ‘Surely you could have arranged things better than that.’
‘What’s the point of going to bed and tossing and turning for hours because you can’t sleep?’ he demanded harshly.
‘That’s nonsense! You’re exhausted.’
Robert sighed, and rolling over reached for the aspirins.
Dropping three into the palm of his hand, he tossed them to the back of his throat and swallowed a mouthful of water to get rid of them, grimacing at the taste. Then he lay back on the cushions, looking up at her wearily.
‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance,’ he remarked sardonically.
Julie lifted her shoulders. ‘You’re not a nuisance!’ she exclaimed. ‘Why did you come here, Robert?’
He closed his eyes. ‘I wanted to see you. Halbird said you’d rung this morning to speak to my mother when she wasn’t at home. I thought maybe there was some kind of crisis for you to ring her.’
Julie bent her head. ‘Oh, I see.’
He opened his eyes again. ‘Was it important?’
‘No. I wanted to talk to her about – about Sandra Lawson. I suppose you know she’s here.’ He nodded and she put a hand to her mouth. ‘I suppose she knows I went out with Francis, too.’
Robert moved his head slowly from side to side, his eyes closed again. ‘No, she doesn’t. I arrived about nine-thirty, and I had plenty of opportunity to speak to Mrs. Hudson before Sandra arrived back.’
