by Anne Mather
‘Well?’ he said, not touching her. ‘How is Diana?’
‘Not very well, I’m afraid,’ replied Madeline, frowning. ‘She had a temperature, I’m sure, and she has slept most of the day.’
‘I see.’ Nicholas pulled out the slim cigarette case. ‘I’m sorry.’
Madeline indicated the couch and said: ‘Won’t you sit down?’ Her voice sounded formal and a little stilted and with a raising of his eyebrows he concurred.
Madeline felt awkward. He seemed, somehow, to take away all her natural assurance and she felt as nervous as a kitten. Sensing this, with the awareness of her he always felt, Nicholas flung down his cigarette case and linking his fingers round her wrist he said:
‘What’s worrying you, honey?’
Madeline tried unsuccessfully to release herself. ‘What makes you think I’m worrying about anything?’ she asked evasively.
‘Don’t fence with me,’ he muttered, his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. ‘Come here, damn you, I wasn’t going to touch you, but I can see that I must….
He pulled her down on top of him, finding her mouth compulsively, and for a while there was silence in the apartment.
The stillness was broken by Diana’s plaintive voice calling: ‘Mum…are you there?’
Madeline got to her feet, buttoning her blouse, and smoothing her hair, while Nicholas reached lazily for his cigarettes and lit one. She entered Diana’s bedroom and smiled.
‘I’m here, darling. What do you want?’
‘I want another drink,’ said Diana, in an annoyed tone.
Madeline poured out another glass of lemon juice and was giving it to her when Nicholas came to the bedroom door and leant against the doorpost.
Diana’s eyes widened incredulously and she almost choked on the lemon juice. Madeline wiped her chin with a tissue and said:
‘We’ve got a visitor.’
‘So I see,’ said Diana coldly.
‘I’ve been invited,’ remarked Nicholas in just as insolent a tone. ‘Have you any objections?’
Diana lay back on the pillows, and did not answer him.
‘Sit with me for a while, Mother,’ she pleaded, her eyes darting at Nicholas’s face. ‘I feel lonely.’
‘Then join us in the lounge,’ said Nicholas bleakly.
Diana looked hurt. ‘I’m not very well.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Nicholas looked sceptical. ‘Have you seen a doctor?’
‘No,’ Madeline answered.
‘I’ve told you!’ exclaimed Diana angrily. ‘I don’t need a doctor.’
‘Do you treat yourself?’ asked Nicholas sarcastically. ‘I think you ought to see a doctor.’
Madeline looked anxious. ‘Do you really?’
‘No, not really,’ retorted Nicholas. ‘I simply want Diana to have the best of attention.’ He was well aware that Diana was casting absolutely killing glances in his direction.
‘Well, will you phone him? Dr. Foulds. The number is in the book.’
‘Sure.’ Nicholas straightened up, ignoring Diana. ‘Where’s the nearest phone booth?’
Madeline gave him directions and with a sardonic salute to Diana, Nicholas left the apartment.
After he had gone, Diana looked furiously at her mother. ‘You let him do that on purpose. You’re both hateful!’
Madeline gasped, ‘But why? We only want you to feel better as soon as possible.’
‘Why? So that you can feel free to go out whenever you like?’
‘That was uncalled-for, Diana.’
‘Was it?’ Diana was mutinous. ‘All right! Have the doctor! See if I care!’
Dr. Foulds was an elderly man, but he came at once. After examining Diana he came back into the lounge, and folded his stethoscope back into his bag.
‘Frankly, Mrs. Scott,’ he said deliberately, ‘there’s nothing much wrong with Diana that I can see. Apart from a little nasal congestion which may be due to a slight cold in the head.’
‘But her temperature?’
‘…is quite normal,’ finished the doctor, smiling benevolently. ‘I think your daughter is swinging the lead. Mrs. Scott. Doesn’t she want to go to school tomorrow?’
Madeline hardly dared look at Nicholas. ‘But she was sick, doctor….’
‘Did you actually see her, being sick I mean?’
‘Why…no.’
‘Exactly. As I thought, my dear. Young Diana will have to have a good talking to, calling a hard-working doctor out for nothing.’
‘I’m awfully sorry.’ Madeline felt guilty.
‘That’s all right. As it happens I’ve had quite an easy weekend. Tell that girl of yours to get herself to school and stop havering, or I’ll put her over my knee. She’s not too big yet, you know!’
‘Thank you, doctor.’ Madeline ushered him to the door. She felt awful, both about Nicholas and the doctor now.
After he had gone she turned back into the lounge to find Nicholas standing staring out of the window. He swung round and said:
‘You realize this whole performance was for our benefit?’
Madeline rubbed her elbows with the palms of her hands, arms crossed, feeling unable to answer him. She knew he must be right and yet she still didn’t want to accept it.
Nicholas moved restlessly. ‘God, she must think we’re complete idiots! Well, she’s not going to get away with it!’
Madeline looked up at him. ‘With what?’
‘This idea that if she feels like staging an illness all actions on our part will be suspended, possibly even cancelled.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Tell her the truth, now!’ Nicholas thrust his hands into his trousers pockets. ‘She obviously realized that you might conceivably be harbouring something more distasteful to her than a mere casual affair.’
Madeline caught his arm. ‘Nick, I’m sure you’re right, but we can’t go into all that now. Not this minute.’
‘Why?’ His voice was cold.
Madeline shrugged, unable to find words. ‘Oh, I suppose I want everything to be right between us, and now it’s going to be a slanging match and goodness knows how long the enmity will last.’
Nicholas scowled. ‘Madeline, you’re afraid to tell her!’ he muttered accusingly. ‘This is Sunday, remember. My mother arrives on Wednesday and we leave for Vilentia on Thursday. How much longer do you expect to delay the evil day?’
‘I don’t know….’ Madeline turned away. ‘It’s so sudden.’
‘Sudden? Sudden? Madeline, do you want me to wait indefinitely until you pluck up enough courage to face your own daughter with something that ought to cause you great happiness, not discontent?’
‘No, I don’t want to wait. I just don’t want to break Diana’s heart….’
Nicholas grunted. ‘I fancy your daughter’s heart is a little harder to break than others I could mention. Are you going to tell her now?’ His voice was hard.
‘I…I…Nick, please….’
Nicholas reached for his coat abruptly, his face enigmatic, although his eyes blazed with anger.
‘Wh…where are you going?’ Her heart was in her mouth.
‘Back to the hotel,’ muttered Nicholas, walking to the door.
‘Oh, no! Nick, don’t go like this…’ she began desperately.
Nicholas ignored her pleas and opened the door and went out closing it behind him before she could stop him. This was a painful experience for him too. No woman had ever openly defied him before and it was all the more humiliating to know that for all her indecision and stumbling cowardice he still wanted her, so much so that had he stayed there he would have relented and agreed to a postponement of their marriage for a long as she wanted it.
Madeline, left alone, sank down bitterly on the couch, hot tears overflowing her eyes and streaming uninhibitedly down her cheeks. The full impact of what she had done was washing over her and it horrified her.
CHAPTER NINE
NICHOLAS drove straight back to the
Stag. He was in a violent temper and barely answered the desk clerk when he greeted him. Ignoring the lift, he mounted the stairs to Maria’s suite impatiently and flung open the doors, walking arrogantly into the room.
Maria was alone, stretched out on a couch reading a magazine, and eating her way through a box of chocolates. She smiled lazily up at him as he came in, wondering what on earth had brought him back so soon and in such a flaming mood. His face was as black as a thunder cloud and she had to discipline herself not to question what was wrong. She had learned many years ago not to ask those sort of questions unless she was prepared for a tirade in place of an answer.
‘Hello!’ she greeted him cheerfully in English. ‘This is a surprise.’ They often used English when they were alone as Nicholas had spent so much time in the States that it was his second language.
Nicholas flung himself into a low armchair, loosening his coat. ‘Get me a drink,’ he said abruptly. ‘You know what I like.’
‘And how you like it,’ remarked Maria lightly, and slid nimbly off the couch. She was dressed in skin-tight red trews and a sleeveless sweater, her hair caught up in a ponytail. She looked fresh and uncomplicated to Nicholas’s slightly jaded eyes. Why couldn’t Diana Scott have been a normal well-balanced child?
‘Here you are, darling,’ said Maria, handing him a glass of cool liquid. She frowned. ‘Do you feel all right?’
Nicholas shook his head. ‘No, I feel smashed!’ he muttered with a deepening of his scowl, and Maria subsided on to the couch again, feeling suitably abashed. She retrieved her magazine and Nicholas stared moodily across at her. ‘Where’s Miss Sykes?’
‘In her room – why? Do you want to see her?’
‘No,’ grunted Nicholas. ‘What have you been doing, apart from stuffing yourself with chocolates?’
‘Nothing much. We went walking, as you know, this morning and had coffee in a genuine English tea-room. At least, that was what it called itself, but I think it was a pretty low place. Very exciting.’ She smiled.
Nicholas was bored. He rose to his feet. The tortuous feeling in his bones was exasperating to say the least and he knew he woudn’t sleep well tonight.
He took off his overcoat and flung it over a chair, walking restlessly about the room. He looked like a magnificent, caged animal and Maria enjoyed watching him. She was very proud of her father. But she knew that something was seriously wrong and she said:
‘Don’t prowl, darling. You make me nervous.’
Nicholas ignored her remark and continued his pacing. Pouring himself another drink, he said: ‘Do you want to go for a drive?’
‘I…I guess we could. Are you sure it’s me you want to take?’
‘Quite sure,’ he muttered savagely.
Maria shrugged and rose to her feet ‘Don’t snap my head off. I only asked a simple question. Judging from your expression I’d say I was the last person you wanted to be with.’
Nicholas’s scowl deepened. ‘What the hell do you mean by that remark?’
‘Well, there are female companions…and female companions,’ she replied shrewdly. ‘Right now, I’d say you needed something different to the companionship of a daughter.’
‘The devil you would,’ he muttered. ‘Well, you’re mistaken.’
‘What about Madeline, then?’ asked Maria, unable to prevent the words.
‘Forget about Madeline,’ he advised coldly. ‘Are you going to change?’
‘Of course. Don’t be so grumpy. This is Maria…remember?’
‘Sure.’ Nicholas’s eyes softened for a moment ‘All right, minx. Don’t keep me waiting.’
He smacked her behind as she passed him and she smiled gaily up at him. Whatever was wrong, she was not going to be told at the moment.
She dressed in white trousers of heavy silk jersey which had a matching jacket piped with scarlet. White pumps completed the ensemble and she looked more like an eighteen-year-old than the fifteen-year-old she was. Nicholas felt a sense of pride as she joined him. She was so poised and assured, and very much like him, although just now he didn’t feel either spoiled or assured.
The red Sheridan waited in the parking lot and Maria slid in feeling quite pleased about the unexpected outing. Since her arrival in England her father had not found much time for her and now she felt justifiably pleased that they were together.
The market place in Otterbury was busy this Sunday afternoon. Groups of young people stood around talking and laughing together and Maria envied them their complete naturalness. At home in Italy she had had loads of friends and had spent most weekends on the Lake, sailing and swimming. She missed the free and easy companionship of boys and girls of her own age, not knowing any young people in Otterbury. Still, she consoled herself, she was here with Nick and Harvey, and that made up for quite a lot.
Suddenly she sat forward in her seat. ‘There’s that boy that Diana Scott is friendly with. He looks as though he’s waiting for somebody. Do you think it might be Diana?’
‘Very likely,’ remarked Nicholas dryly. ‘However, if he is he will be having a long wait in vain. She won’t be coming. She’s in bed.’ He sounded sardonic and Maria glanced at him for a moment.
‘Is she ill?’
‘So she says,’ replied Nicholas, his fingers tightening on the wheel.
‘Then don’t you think we ought to stop and tell him?’ asked Maria, at once. ‘After all, he looks fed up already. Perhaps he’s been waiting quite a while.’
Nicholas shrugged. He had no particular desire to speak to someone who knew the Scotts well, but it seemed he had no option without having to answer a lot of pertinent questions from his daughter.
He swung the car purposefully round the Square and drove back to where Jeff was standing.
Maria wound down her window. ‘Say!’ she said, attracting Jeff’s attention at once. The massive Sheridan automobiles always caused a stir in Otterbury. ‘Are you waiting for Diana?’
Jeff walked across to them, looking surprised but not displeased, and Maria said swiftly: ‘Couldn’t we ask him to come with us?’ in a low voice to her father.
‘I guess so.’ Nicholas sounded non-committal.
‘Well, it will be great having someone young to speak to for a change.’
‘Thank you.’ Nicholas gave her a sidelong glance and she giggled.
‘You know I don’t mean that in a derogatory fashion,’ she whispered, as Jeff reached the car.
‘Yes,’ he said, leaning on the window, ‘I’m waiting for Diana.’ His eyes appraised the lovely picture Maria made sitting in the luxurious car and he suddenly decided he didn’t care that Diana wasn’t coming any more.
‘She’s ill in bed,’ said Maria, her eyes sparkling. ‘She won’t be coming. Are you at a loose end now?’
Jeffs eyes narrowed. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Then how about coming with us? I don’t exactly know where we’re going but it will be better than hanging around here.’
Jeff’s face was flushed. ‘But I mean….’ He glanced at Nicholas. ‘Doesn’t your…er…friend…mind?’
Maria laughed merrily. ‘This is my father,’ she said, by way of an introduction. ‘He doesn’t mind. Get in.’
She slid along the front seat so that Jeff could get in beside them and Nicholas found himself remembering that only the previous evening Madeline had occupied that same position, close beside him.
His anger surfaced again and he set the car moving violently, startling a crowd of teenagers who were admiring the car close by.
* * *
Nicholas slept badly as he had expected he would. He tossed restlessly in the big bed, getting up twice to take some aspirin without any result. He got up at seven in a foul mood, his head aching abominably.
He wasted time, reading newspapers and generally moping about, and did not put in an appearance at the factory until eleven o’clock. He strode through the glass doors of the building and was hailed by a receptionist.
‘Mr. Vitale! There�
��s a young lady waiting to see you, sir. She’s been waiting since ten o’clock. She said it was a personal matter, so I put her in the interview room.’
Nicholas’s pulse increased. Madeline! He felt the blood pounding in his ears. Who else could it be, after all?
He crossed the wide hallway and thrust open the door of the interview room. As he did so, a girl rose from the chair by the desk. It was Diana Scott!
For a few seconds his disappointment stunned him. He couldn’t believe he was seeing aright and it was an effort to pull himself together and close the door. His eyes were as cold as a glacier as they looked at the girl and Diana clenched her hands in her lap.
‘Good morning, Mr. Vitale,’ she said uneasily, subsiding into the chair again.
Nicholas did not immediately reply. He walked slowly round the desk and seated himself opposite her in the low armchair.
‘Why are you here?’ he asked bluntly.
Diana flushed. ‘I’ll tell you, Mr. Vitale. I want you to stop seeing my mother.’ She cleared her throat. ‘For good.’
Nicholas’s expression was frightening.
‘Are you serious?’ he demanded savagely.
Diana swallowed hard. ‘Of course I am. Look…we were happy till you cane along, disrupting our lives, turning my mother against me.’
‘You have turned your mother against you, not me,’ he muttered, ‘although, by God, I can’t see how you can say that after the way she thinks of you before her own happiness.’
‘Well, she’s never acted in this way before. She treats me as though I were an encumbrance….’
‘Rubbish!’
‘It’s true,’ Diana sneered. ‘She thinks that because you’re paying her a lot of attention you’re serious about her.’
‘I don’t know how you dare come here and discuss your own mother in this outrageous fashion,’ he exclaimed angrily, standing up. ‘Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?’
