by Anne Mather
‘You’d told him not to get out of bed, apparently,’ he remarked dryly. ‘Is that right?’
Lesley made a sound of impatience. ‘Well, yes, but why didn’t you have your pyjamas on, Jeremy?’
‘I told you, I was hot,’ he muttered defensively, and Carne pulled a wry face.
‘At least you won’t have them to wash,’ he mocked, but before Lesley could make any retort, the housekeeper knocked at the door.
Mrs Scott was round and buxom and thanked Carne for making her work a little easier. ‘It’s a mercy it’s only a single bed,’ she exclaimed, with a smile. ‘I won’t bother making up the bed again tonight, I can do that in the morning. The young man can use the other one, can’t he?’ She shook a teasing finger at Jeremy. ‘You’re a wee thing, aren’t you, to be needing two beds!’
Lesley gave Carne a shocked look, but Mrs Scott was already bustling out again, the dirty bedding rolled under her arm to drop in the clothes basket waiting outside. The door closed behind her, but before Lesley could formulate her words of protest, Jeremy exclaimed: ‘What did she mean? I can use the other bed? That’s your bed, Mummy.’
‘I know.’ Lesley made a helpless gesture. ‘I’ll call her back …’
‘I shouldn’t.’ Carne’s words halted her.
‘Why not?’
‘The booking I made was for Mr and Mrs Radley and son. Do you want to throw doubt in their minds that we’re married? Or would you rather that they thought we were splitting up?’
‘I’d rather they knew that we were separated!’ declared Lesley quickly, and then bit her lip as Carne’s eyes moved expressively towards the listening child. ‘Well, what do you suggest?’
‘I suggest you use the other room,’ stated Carne flatly. ‘I can sleep on this bed. I don’t need pillows and it’s very warm.’
‘I don’t want you to sleep in here with me,’ muttered Jeremy sulkily, his chin trembling again, but Lesley didn’t see what else they could do. Unless …
‘I could use that bed, I suppose,’ she murmured thoughtfully, but Carne shook his head.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
Carne sighed. ‘Go to bed, Lesley. I’m too tired to argue with you.’
Reluctantly, she collected her nightdress and toilet things and after kissing a still tearful Jeremy goodnight, she made her way next door. Carne’s bed was a double, as he had said, with a yellow bedspread and matching draperies.
The bathroom was empty, and Lesley decided she would take her bath after all. At least the disturbance with Jeremy had dispersed much of the drowsiness she had been experiencing, and the bath water was just cool enough to keep her alert.
Back in the bedroom again, she turned down the bed and slid between the sheets. Apart from his shaving gear and toothbrush, there was no evident sign of Carne’s occupation, and she remembered with a rush of heat to her body that he had seldom worn pyjamas. Only once, she remembered him being persuaded to wear some flannelette ones that had belonged to his father. But that had been because he had ‘flu, and when she had joined him in the old four-poster they had quickly been discarded.
She turned out the bedside lamp and lay down. It was still light enough outside for her to see quite clearly, and her eyes moved over the fitted wardrobe and dressing table, the armchair by the window where she had deposited her clothes. She would have to go into the other room in the morning and get herself some clean underclothes, she thought, and something other than the smock to travel in. She had a linen slack suit in her case, perhaps she would wear that. It was sophisticated enough to annoy Mrs Radley. Or maybe she would just wear jeans, as Carne was doing. After all, they had annoyed her mother-in-law just as much. Shameless things, Mrs Radley had called them, observing the way they had clung to Lesley’s shapely limbs. She hadn’t thought that about her son’s, thought Lesley with remembered indignation, and his had been equally revealing. But then, she shifted restlessly, Carne was the kind of man who looked good in almost anything. He had that kind of body.
She turned on to her side and tried to compose herself for sleep. She could hear no sounds from the room next door, so obviously Jeremy had had to accept the new arrangements. Was he already asleep? She guessed he would be. He had been tired to start with, and being sick always exhausted him. He wasn’t often ill like that, but she guessed bouncing about in the back of the station wagon hadn’t helped his digestion, and if she had known Carne intended leaving that evening, she would have made sure he didn’t overeat. But he always made a pig of himself when he came home from school, and she knew from experience that school meals were seldom better than adequate.
The rooms overlooked the front of the hotel, and she heard some people emerge and go to get into their cars. The sound of laughter and the firing of the car’s engine came clearly through the open window, and on impulse she slid out of bed again and went to close it.
The night air was cool and scented with the fragrance of some stocks growing round the borders of the forecourt. There was no moon, but the sky was a bed of stars, each winking in their turn as her eyes struggled to focus upon them. The slight breeze drifted down the neck of her nightshirt, chilling her refreshed body and bringing a wave of goose pimples out all over her flesh. With a sigh, she pulled the window almost shut and then padded back to bed.
She was pulling her pillow into shape when she heard the gentle tap at the door. She stopped what she was doing and listened, her flesh prickling uncomfortably, and then the tap came again, and Carne’s voice beyond the panels called: ‘Lesley! Lesley, are you awake?’
The feeling of blind panic left her, and she got quickly out of bed and hurried to the door. Opening it a crack, she whispered: ‘What is it? Is it Jeremy? Is something wrong?’ But Carne just shook his head and propelled the door inward. He switched on the light and she scurried back to the enveloping shelter of the sheets, staring at him anxiously across the width of the room.
‘So you are still awake,’ he observed flatly. ‘I thought you might be asleep by now.’
‘Like Jeremy?’ she asked, and he nodded.
‘Like Jeremy,’ he agreed.
‘What do you want?’ she exclaimed, in a low voice, and he looked casually about him.
‘I thought of asking the manager for a spare key, but I decided that might not be a good idea,’ he remarked. ‘There was no need in the circumstances.’
‘But what do you want?’ she persisted, and his eyes ran over the taut nervous shape of her under the covers.
‘Well, I could say I came for my jacket,’ he drawled, and her eyes darted round the room.
‘It’s not here,’ she protested, and he nodded.
‘I know. I just said, I could say that.’ He picked up her tights which had fallen on to the floor with the drift of her passing and deposited them on the chair. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’
‘To talk to me?’ She shook her head. ‘We talked earlier.’
‘I know we did. Not very satisfactorily, as it happens.’
‘There’s not a lot to say.’
‘You think not?’ He wandered aimlessly round the room. ‘I don’t agree.’
Lesley drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. ‘You’re sure Jeremy’s asleep?’
‘Oh, yes, I’m sure.’ A faint smile crossed his lips. ‘I watched his eyes close. He didn’t much care for me being there, but exhaustion’s a great leveller.’
Lesley bent her head. ‘Thank you for—well, for dealing with everything.’
‘That’s what fathers are for, aren’t they?’ He came to stand beside the bed. ‘That—and other things.’
‘Carne!’ She looked up at him unhappily. ‘Why did you come in here? It wasn’t for your jacket—and it wasn’t just to tell me about Jeremy …’
‘Would you believe—to share this bed?’
‘To—to share this bed!’ Lesley’s face suffused with colour. ‘But you can’t do that!’
‘Why not? We’re still married, aren’t w
e?’
‘Yes, but—–’ She broke off helplessly. ‘I don’t want to sleep with you.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not.’
‘You flatter yourself,’ he retorted politely. ‘I said I wanted to share your bed. I didn’t say anything about making love to you.’
Lesley shrank back against the pillows. ‘Then why should you—–’
‘Why should I suggest it?’ His lips twisted. ‘It’s going to be a long night. And probably quite a cool one. Why should I freeze to death in the next room, with you occupying a bed like this all to yourself?’
‘I might have known you had this in mind when you offered me your bed!’ she declared bitterly. ‘All right, get in. I can’t stop you. But keep away from me, that’s all.’
Lesley was turned on to her side when Carne’s weight depressed the springs at his side of the bed. The light was extinguished and he adjusted his length comfortably beside her. Then there was silence.
Not surprisingly, Lesley found it no easier to sleep than before. It was more than five years since they had last shared a bed, and longer than that since he had made any overtures towards her. How could she be expected to behave as if he wasn’t there, when every nerve in her body cried out to her that he was?
‘Relax!’
Carne’s voice in the deepening darkness broke into her tense reverie and she shifted a little further away from him. ‘I am relaxed,’ she lied, but he clearly didn’t believe her and she heard his grunt of impatience.
‘Go to sleep,’ he said. ‘Like you used to do. I know how you feel, but believe me you needn’t worry. You froze me off years ago.’
‘I froze you off?’ Her echoing of his words was indignant. Then she endeavoured to compose herself again. ‘Is that your excuse?’
The mattress beneath her depressed sharply as he shifted his weight. ‘I don’t need an excuse,’ he retorted harshly, and her shoulders hunched almost defensively.
The silence that followed was broken only by Lesley’s uneven breathing, a staccato sound punctuated by an occasional sniff which seemed to irritate Carne.
‘Don’t you have a handkerchief?’ he demanded at last, and she burrowed under the pillow for the tissue she had thrust there earlier. She blew her nose loudly, and then subsided again, more tense than before but perceptibly quieter.
Again there was silence in the room and after a while Lesley decided Carne had gone to sleep. With a sigh of relief, she turned on to her back, only to start violently when he said: ‘Can’t you lie still?’
‘I—I thought you were asleep,’ she stammered, aware that there was only inches between them now, and he made a sound of frustration.
‘Asleep!’ he muttered. ‘My God, what do you think I’m made of? Stone?’
‘I don’t know what you mean—–’
‘Don’t you?’ He turned his head on the pillow to look at her. ‘I thought you did. I thought that was what all this was about.’
Lesley swallowed. ‘I’m sorry if I keep disturbing you, but I’m not used to sleeping with—with anyone.’
‘Meaning I am?’
Lesley licked her dry lips. ‘Well, I—I should think you might be more experienced at it than me,’ she declared unsteadily.
‘Would you?’ He turned completely on to his side, and his warm breath fanned her face. ‘Yes, well, I suppose that’s a fair comment. You lost all interest in sex after Jeremy was born, didn’t you? While I—–’
‘How—how dare you?’
Lesley almost choked, but his tone remained infuriatingly mocking. ‘You can hardly lie in bed with a man and say a thing like that,’ he pointed out wryly. ‘You really are unique, you know, Lesley. A Victorian anachronism in twentieth-century guise!’
‘Why, you—you—–’ Her only recourse was to get out of the bed, but almost before the thought had formulated itself, and certainly before she could put it into action, he had forestalled her, rolling over and straddling both her legs with one of his. It meant that the whole weight of him was imprisoning half her body, and one hand was gripping her waist just below her rib-cage.
‘Don’t be a fool!’ he was saying impatiently, trying to keep it impersonal, but the feeling of his muscular legs against hers made Lesley aware of her own body’s betrayal.
‘I—I want to get up,’ she insisted, and the draught of her words came back on her warmed by the heat of his throat. His arm was raised above her head to support himself, and the raw male smell about him brought back memories she would rather forget.
‘You can’t,’ he said now, his tone thickening slightly. ‘I won’t let you.’
‘You’re a brute!’ she protested, and then, untruthfully: ‘You’re hurting me!’
‘No, I’m not,’ he denied grimly. ‘But don’t tempt me.’
‘To—to do what? Satisfy that overriding ego of yours?’ she taunted, and even in the gloom she could see the anger flashing in his eyes.
‘You’re very reckless, considering the circumstances. Aren’t you afraid my—er—overriding ego will compel me to take what’s still legally mine?’
‘You said you wouldn’t touch me!’ she exclaimed, and he made a sound of contempt.
‘You shouldn’t be so trusting,’ he declared, and thwarted her efforts to fight him with an ease that terrified her.
‘What—what are you going to do?’ she cried, and felt his hand move from her waist to close over the ripe fullness of her breast. The nipple was hard and his fingertips probed it delicately, while she shifted desperately beneath him.
‘How interesting,’ he murmured, and her breath came on a sob.
‘All right!’ she burst out tremulously. ‘You can force me to respond to you. I can’t help that. But it won’t stop me from despising you for the liar that you are!’
‘A liar now, am I?’ he muttered savagely, and then, with a harsh word of denigration, he flung himself away from her and out of the bed, putting the width of the room between them.
It was so unexpected that Lesley lay there for seconds after he had removed his weight, her body still maintaining its attitude of supporting him. It was crazy, but she felt a moment’s regret, a brief sense of privation that filled her with alarm before, trembling, she drew the covers over her shaken limbs. She curled up in a ball and stared at the tall figure outlined by the window. She could see now that he was not naked, but the dark trunks he wore did little to disguise the powerful muscles of his body, and a wave of despair swept over her at the realisation that by hurting him, she was hurting herself too. He had his back to her, and she pressed her lips tightly together against the urge to appeal to him. She had done nothing to be ashamed of. He had come in here with the sole intention of spending the night with her, and whether or not he had intended anything more was really immaterial. He had mocked and humiliated her, and he deserved her censure.
He looked round at last and she saw him trying to adjust his eyes to the gloom. He seemed to be searching for something, and she was unable to remain silent any longer.
‘What—what are you doing?’
‘I’m looking for my clothes,’ he replied flatly, and she realised he had control of himself again. He came towards the bed and found his pants. ‘Go to sleep.’
‘But what are you going to do?’
‘What do you think?’
‘You can’t go back to Jeremy’s room.’
‘Why not?’
Lesley sat up. ‘Carne, please! I—won’t you stop this stupidity? I mean—come back to bed. Let’s just get some sleep.’
He paused. ‘What kind of an invitation is that?’
She bent her head. ‘I just want us to be—civilised.’
‘Civilised?’ He expelled his breath on a long sigh. ‘Yes, I guess that is what you’d call it.’
‘Then …’
He raked back his hair with a weary hand. ‘Lesley, you’re not going to sleep with me beside you, are you?’
‘Why not?’
�
�I don’t know. I just know it.’
‘I will. I will.’ She tried to see his expression in the darkness. ‘I’m tired. Why shouldn’t I sleep?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shook his head. ‘Look, I don’t think—–’
‘Carne!’
‘All right.’ Anger snapped for a moment. ‘But remember, this was your suggestion, not mine!’
She nodded and he drew back the covers once more. She tried not to stiffen as he made himself comfortable, and then it was silent again. Even the air in the room seemed curiously still and only the distant whistle of a train reassured her that they were not the only wakeful people in the world.
Eventually, Carne’s deep breathing told her that he had gone to sleep, and she released the tight muscles at her neck. Her head sank more deeply into the pillow and a tired lethargy began to drift over her. It would be morning soon enough, she thought without enthusiasm, and she could do without dark circles round her eyes to meet Carne’s mother again. Carne’s mother! She stretched her legs more easily. At least at Raventhorpe there would be no question of her sharing a bed with her husband …
She opened her eyes reluctantly to find that the curtains she had drawn the night before were not as thick as she had imagined. Snatches of sunlight were forcing their way between the woven threads, filling the room with early morning brilliance.
She knew immediately where she was, which proved she had slept more shallowly than she had thought, and she didn’t need to turn her head to know that Carne was in bed beside her. The warmth of his body was a tangible thing behind her, and when she tentatively moved her arm, her hand brushed his thigh.
He seemed to be still asleep and she wriggled round carefully, trying not to disturb him. But the tail of her cotton nightshirt was imprisoned beneath him, and as she tried to detach herself his eyes opened. The thick lashes hid their expression, but his tongue emerged to lick his dry lips and one long-fingered hand slid lazily through the tumbled thickness of his hair.
‘What time is it?’ he asked, yawning, and obediently she consulted the square watch on her wrist.
