by Anne Mather
Nicholas lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. ‘You were very young,’ he said quietly. ‘Even today you appear somehow ingenuous. That was what I meant when I said you were naïve. Go on, tell me the rest.’
Madeline cleared her throat nervously. ‘There’s not much more to tell really. Diana knows nothing about it. She still believes Joe was her father. I haven’t told her. She and Joe got along so well together and although Joe and I were never…well…quite as a normal couple should be we lived quite a happy life.
‘I loved the baby and Joe was as proud and excited as any father could be.’ She ran a tongue over her lips. ‘It was when Diana was five years old that Joe developed cancer of the lung. To begin with I don’t think we realized just how serious it was. They operated, of course, but gradually he got worse. He had had to give up his work, naturally, and I managed to get a job as secretary to the personnel manager of an engineering firm. With Joe’s sickness benefit and my wage we managed to make ends meet. The house in Hounslow was his own and it wasn’t far from my work. Diana had started school and it wasn’t too difficult.’ She felt a queer sensation talking about things like this. Until now, nobody had ever been told the full story.
‘At last, Joe grew weaker and he was in constant pain. He practically lived on drugs and it was a blessed relief for him, I think, when he died. Diana was inconsolable. She couldn’t believe she would never see him again. I must admit for a while I wondered whether our marriage had precipitated his condition. It seemed so wrong that I, who had acted so recklessly, should still be alive, when Joe, who had always been such a wonderful person, should be dead. The doctors were very kind. They gave me tonics and plenty of sound advice and eventually we managed to carry on normally. We had to sell the house and the proceeds helped us to pay the rent of a small flat I managed to get nearby.
‘Well, as was to be expected, the money finally dwindled away. There was so much to be bought with so little and when I saw the advertisement for the post of secretary to Adrian I jumped at it. Living out of London was bound to be cheaper and my salary was to be higher, too. Adrian helped us to get the council flat and here we are. That’s the story up to date.’
Madeline accepted the cigarette he offered her and looked thoughtfully into his face. She saw no sign of dissatisfaction there, only compassion.
‘And do you intend Diana to know who her real father was?’ he asked.
Madeline looked distressed. ‘I really don’t know. You see, Diana has such faith in her father’s memory. I think she would hate to have that taken away. Even though Joe was only a father in name.’
Nicholas smiled. ‘What better way could any father win a child’s affection than by being there when she needed him? Joe was Diana’s father! I think he must have been a pretty wonderful man.’
Madeline twisted his ring round her finger. ‘Yes, he was.’
Nicholas’s lean, brown hand closed over hers. ‘Did you love him?’ he asked, in a tense voice.
‘Yes, I loved him,’ said Madeline, looking fearlessly at him. ‘But I was not in love with him!’
‘Then why were there no more children?’ Nicholas’s eyes held hers
‘Because…we….’ Madeline looked embarrassed. She had forgotten how direct Nicholas could be.
‘Did he make love to you?’ Nicholas’s face was almost cruel as he forced her to answer his questions.
Madeline averted her eyes. ‘No.’ The word was forced from her lips. ‘We had separate rooms’
‘I see.’ Nicholas released her fingers, reluctantly, as their coffee was brought to the table. After the waiter had gone, he said: ‘So that is why you look so untouched. I don’t believe you’ve ever known what love between a man and a woman really is.’
Madeline sighed. ‘Probably not. But Joe was a very understanding person. I don’t really think he wanted me in that way.’
‘He must have been understanding,’ muttered Nicholas dryly. ‘Just don’t expect the same treatment from me.’ His eyes bored into hers.
Madeline smiled suddenly ‘Oh, Nicholas, do you honestly think I want you to behave like that? I want you, too, remember? I want to share everything with you; be with you all the time. So much so that it hurts….’
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he commanded violently, ‘you’ve no idea what you are doing to me.’
‘Maybe I do,’ she murmured softly.
After dinner they went on to a night-club, a small, intimate spot where the lights were dim and the music was throbbingly primitive. They danced together on the pocket-sized dance-floor, their arms around one another, bodies close together, moving in unison. Nicholas’s mouth moved restlessly over her neck and her face, unashamedly seeking her mouth again and again.
Madeline only knew that she loved this man as she had never thought it possible to love anyone and Nicholas himself had realized that all his life he had been searching for a woman like Madeline. Her complete candour commended itself to him far more than assumed artifice had ever done and he wanted to take care of her and make up to her for all the many pleasures she had missed. She hadn’t had much of a life so far, and had paid dearly for the few moments of indiscretion in her youth. She had never known what it was to play.
Nicholas told Madeline that Harvey was bringing the car to pick them up at ten o’clock and she said:
“But that will be any minute now!’
‘I know, but I thought I had better get you back in reasonable time for Diana’s sake.’
Madeline smiled. ‘That was thoughtful,’ she murmured, pressing herself against him.
‘Yes, it was, wasn’t it?’ he grimaced.
When they returned to their table, Nicholas was serious. ‘Look,’ he said carefully, ‘we haven’t got a lot of time and I want to get something settled. I don’t care a jot about what happened in the past and I don’t see any reason for you to tell Diana about her father. What I care about is you and me. I want to marry you, and soon. As soon as I can get a licence, if possible.’
‘I want that, too,’ she murmured softly. ‘But Diana…’
‘Diana has got to be made to see reason. Good heavens, she’s not really a child. She’s almost an adult and should be treated as such. She can’t go on ruling your actions in this way. You’ve got to be firm.’
‘Diana still harbours thoughts of my marrying Adrian.’
‘And would you have married Adrian, if I hadn’t happened along?’
Madeline shook her head. ‘No. I’m sure of that. My marriage to Joe was one thing; marriage with Adrian would be another. He would expect a wife in every sense of the word. Whatever he is like now, I’m quite aware of that. After all, he’s a perfectly healthy and normal man. Why shouldn’t he expect it?’
‘Why indeed!’ Nicholas nodded. ‘But now that doesn’t resolve things for us. Whatever Diana hopes about you and Adrian has to be ruled out once and for all. She has grown possessive and she possibly thinks that marriage for you with Adrian Sinclair would not take you away from her as she feels another, younger man might do. She also, I think, dreads the idea of you having other children.’
Madeline stubbed out the cigarette she had been smoking. ‘I feel you’re right,’ she murmured slowly
‘I’m sure I am,’ he replied, swallowing the remainder of his drink. ‘I’ve worked with a great many people over the years, men and women. There’s always a logical explanation for everything.’ He leant towards her. ‘I want us to be married before Easter,’ he murmured. ‘We’re going to Vilentia for Easter, to my mother’s house there. Diana could come too, and be company for Maria. My mother would see that we were left alone. We might even leave them and collect the yacht. We could cruise down into the Adriatic; the weather will be wonderful. It always is. We would be completely isolated. You’ll adore my country.’ His eyes grew soft and caressing. ‘The nights are long and languorous, I will teach you what it means to make love.’ His voice was passionate. ‘God, honey, don’t make me wait any longer than that!’
>
Madeline felt her bones turn to water and she found herself clasping his fingers tightly. ‘I’ll come…’ she whispered, but a voice broke into their conversation.
‘Time to break it up, folks!’ It was Harvey.
Nicholas flicked back his cuff and examined the gold watch on his wrist. ‘You’re five minutes early,’ he remarked dryly
‘Such a welcome!’ Harvey was his usual amiable self. He subsided into the chair beside Madeline. ‘Hi, honey, I guess you’re having a good time.’
‘Wonderful!’ agreed Madeline fervently, smoothing her hair with a nervous hand. She looked at Nicholas. ‘Are we leaving right away?’
‘Hold on!’ exclaimed Harvey reproachfully, before Nicholas could speak. ‘Ain’t yer gonna buy a guy a thirst-quencher?’
He spoke in a Brooklyn accent and Nicholas grinned and signalled the waiter.
‘How are things?’ he asked when he had ordered three drinks.
Harvey stretched expansively. ‘Well, now, they’re just great. Did you have a good trip?’
‘Pretty good,’ nodded Nicholas lazily. ‘By the way, meet the future Mrs. Nicholas Vitale’
Harvey’s expression was incredulous. ‘Is that a fact?’ he exclaimed.
‘It is. Madeline has agreed to marry me.’
Harvey shook his head, a grin appearing on his freckled face as the information sank in. ‘Well, that’s real nice. Congratulations!’ He turned to Madeline. ‘I won’t congratulate you, honey. You don’t know what you’ve landed yourself with!’
His good-humoured bantering set the seal on the rest of the evening. Madeline was relieved he seemed so pleased about it. It made up, somehow, for the inevitable argument which would ensure when she told Diana.
Nicholas drove the car back to Otterbury, with both Madeline and Harvey beside him on the wide front seat. Wedged between the two men, Madeline was only conscious of Nicholas beside her. They dropped Harvey at the Stag and drove on to Evenwood Gardens.
When the car halted, Nicholas pulled Madeline to him, his mouth feverishly seeking hers. They didn’t want to leave each other and it was only Nicholas’s iron self-control that prevented thè inevitable.
‘I love you,’ he groaned. ‘What time will I see you tomorrow?’
‘I think you’d better come to the flat,’ she murmured, running her fingers through the virile strength of his hair. ‘I want to tell Diana about us, and it will give you both a chance to get to know one another.’
‘Okay.’ Nicholas released her. ‘Go now, before I touch you again. I’ll be round about two-thirty – is that all right?’
‘Of course, darling.’ She smiled. ‘And thank you.’
For what?’ He looked puzzled.
‘For believing in me and for not being angry about well, Joe and Diana’s father.’
He looked tenderly at her. ‘How could you imagine that I would feel badly about that?’ he asked softly. ‘Without your life being as sheltered as it has been, you wouldn’t be the Madeline I love and adore. As it is, I shall be the first husband you’ve ever known. That means a great deal to me, honey.’
Madeline looked tremulously at him. ‘Until tomorrow, then.’
He nodded, and she slipped out of the car without a backward glance.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS it turned out, Madeline was unable to tell Diana about Nicholas that night. Diana was already in bed when Madeline got in and was apparently asleep. She did not answer Madeline’s tentative inquiry and Madeline could only assume she really had gone to sleep.
Madeline herself spent a restless night, tossing and turning, and awoke the following morning feeling as though she had never been to bed at all. Diana was sitting up when she opened her eyes, sipping some white liquid which looked like dissolved aspirin.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Madeline, propping herself upon one elbow and looking puzzled.
Diana looked a little pale and Madeline was worried. It was not like Diana to be sick. And then she chided herself; everyone developed symptoms of some kind from time to time.
‘I’ve been sick,’ said Diana nasally, ‘and I’ve got a splitting headache. I think I must have caught a chill.’
Madeline frowned and slid out of bed, pulling on her dressing gown and slippers. She padded round to Diana’s bed and put her hand to her daughter’s forehead. It did feel a bit hot, and she looked thoughtfully at her
‘You’d better stay in bed then, darling,’ she said, walking to the door. ‘Would you like any breakfast? Some toast perhaps, and an egg.’
Diana shook her head, and swallowing the remainder of the aspirin, she subsided beneath the covers, looking wistful and withdrawn.
Madeline shrugged, and opened the door.
‘I’d like a hot water bottle, please,’ said Diana, suddenly. ‘And perhaps one of those eggs whipped up with sugar and cream.’
Her mother looked doubtful. ‘Do you think that’s wise?’ she asked. ‘After all, if you’ve been sick….’
‘I’m sure I can manage that all right,’ replied Diana swiftly
‘All right.’ Madeline went out, closing the door behind her. She went into the kitchen, put on the kettle and went back into the lounge to turn up the central heating.
After giving Diana the hot water bottle and the egg-whip, she made some toast and coffee for herself and had it in the lounge as she glanced at the morning papers. They were mainly full of scandal and after a brief skim through them she threw them to one side and wondered dully whether she ought to tell Diana about Nicholas at this time. After all, Diana was probably feeling pretty low to start with and that would possibly reduce her to tears. No, she could not do it. She realized it was partly cowardice that prevented her and that she was really putting off something which she didn’t relish doing, but nevertheless, Diana was ill and she deserved some consideration.
That being so, she had better let Nicholas know, so that when he came round…or rather, if he came round, he wouldn’t say something to upset her
She dressed in slacks and a sweater and making the excuse that she was going to see the caretaker about the rent, Madeline slipped out to the telephone.
She rang the Stag and was put through to his suite without much difficulty. Her name was now known to the management and the staff had been warned to treat her with the same deference as shown to the Vitales themselves.
It was ten-thirty, but when Nicholas answered his voice was drowsy and she realized he must still be in bed.
‘Who’s that?’ he asked sleepily.
‘It’s me, Madeline.’
‘Madeline?’ His voice grew clearer. ‘Madeline? What’s wrong? Why are you ringing me, and so early, too?’
Madeline sighed. ‘It’s not early. I’ve been up for hours! It’s about Diana, Nick. She’s not well. I think she has a chill or is sickening for something. She’s in bed.’
Nicholas grunted. ‘So?’
‘Well…oh, Nick, I can’t tell her about us today.’ She frowned. Now they were out the words sounded so final. ‘Darling, try and understand….’
There was silence for a moment and then he said: ‘So we don’t tell her today But don’t tell me not to come round, that’s all.’
Madeline’s fingers tightened round the telephone receiver. ‘You are coming, then?’
‘I am.’ His voice brooked no argument. ‘Listen, Madeline, you and I are going to be married come hell or high water. If not this week, then next week, and if not then the week after, understand?’
‘Yes, Nick.’
‘So. It will be well if Diana gets used to having me around right now.’
Madeline agreed. ‘But please, don’t feel angry about this.’
‘I’m not angry.’ But his tone was uncompromising.
‘All right then, we’ll see you this afternoon.’
‘Check. See you about two.’
He rang off before she could reply and she replaced the receiver on the cradle with some trepidation. She wanted to see hi
m very much, but she felt nervous about his attitude towards Diana.
Diana was fretful when she returned. She really did look distressed and Madeline got a sponge and bathed her face with cool water.
‘Would you like anything else?’ she asked, stroking back the hair from Diana’s forehead.
‘I think I’d like some lemon juice,’ said Diana, nodding. ‘Have you any lemons?’
‘Yes. I’ll make some.’
Madeline went through to the kitchen and put on the kettle again. She scalded the lemons with the hot water and within minutes had a jug of pure refreshing lemon juice. She cooled it, added ice and carried it through to Diana. She poured some into a glass and helping Diana up on her pillows she gave the glass to her.
After Diana had drained it she said: ‘Now, try and get some sleep. I’ll come back in a little while and if you are no better I’ll call Doctor Foulds.’
Diana shook her head. ‘I don’t need a doctor.’ she said peevishly. ‘I’ve only got a chill. I’ll be okay tomorrow.’
Madeline frowned. ‘Maybe. We’ll see.’
When she looked in later, Diana had fallen asleep so Madeline just had a snack in lieu of lunch. She was too restless to eat anyway and was continually watching the clock. She worried alternately about Diana’s condition and her proposed marriage to Nick. Easter was only four days away and the Vitales would be flying to Italy on Thursday at the very latest. So much was scheduled to take place by then. It was impossible, simply impossible!
Nicholas arrived soon after two. Diana was still asleep and Madeline let him in quietly. She still wore the green tapered slacks and a yellow over-blouse, her hair pinned up in the French knot. Nicholas seemed to fill the apartment, his tall broad frame dwarfing the generous proportions of the lounge. He removed his sheepskin coat to reveal dark slacks and a navy blue sweater, and looked darker himself in consequence. His hair which had grown a little while he was away now curled slightly at the ends and she found an almost sensual pleasure in just looking at him.
