by Jane Corrie
By the time the fortnight was up they had got to within three chapters of the finish. By now Rebecca could gauge this, for Janus always kept to the same amount of chapters, and her suspicion of him already having the next on ice ready to start at the end of the current book were confirmed, and it seemed a long way to go to finish the book, but she knew that if she were to comment on this, he would be
furious. She had agreed to go with him, and that was the end of the matter as far as he was concerned.
On the morning of their departure; Rebecca chose to wear her latest acquisition in the dress line, a dark blue pinstriped suit, complete with shirt and tie, a feminine copy of a man's suit, with a navy blue soft felt hat, that also echoed the trilby. She knew that the climate they were going to would still be cool, as it was not quite spring in that part of the world, and Janus had warned her to pack warm clothing.
As she picked up her shoulder bag and her overnight case, she took one last look round her room to see that everything was tidy and she hadn't forgotten anything, which was unlikely, for she had had plenty of time to pack, and as she left the room she found herself hoping that the same arrangement could be made where they were going. It had been nice to have her privacy again, and to feel a person in her own right when she had left Janus's suite for the day, on hand of course, should he need her, but able to escape into her own world when he didn't.
Janus was just leaving his suite as she arrived, and his blue eyes went coolly over her ensemble, then widened. 'Good gracious!' he exclaimed.
By now Rebecca ought to be used to his criticism, but as usual, irritated her and she pulled her hat further down on her head. 'You said to wear something warm, didn't you?' she replied disdainfully.
Janus did not reply but stood staring at her until Rebecca could stand it no longer. 'It's the fashion,' she said crossly.
`I know,' he answered, with a twinkle in his eye. `I saw a similar model in Isobel's collection. You look like a gangster's moll!' he added in a pained voice, and stared down at his grey pinstriped suit. `I feel I ought to rush out and buy a homburg in keeping with things, you know.'
Rebecca did not deign to answer this, but swept towards the lift carrying her handbag. Their luggage had been taken down earlier by one of the porters, and her head was as high as her temper. Not only did he criticise her views, but her clothes now, she thought, and had a momentary spasm of panic. What on earth was she doing setting out for the other side of the world with him? She ought to have her head examined!
It was not too late to back out, she told herself as the lift carried them down to the ground floor. She could excuse herself in the airport lounge and make a break for it, couldn't she? Janus had to take that plane and would have no time to look for her.
As they walked through the foyer, Rebecca noticed two women wearing similar outfits to hers. One was a short, stout woman who obviously should not have attempted to carry off such a style, and the second one, a rather elderly woman, though slim, wore the suit in an air of defiance against femininity in any shape or form, but in spite of these lamentable examples, Rebecca felt justified in her remarks that it was the fashion, although she doubted that Janus had seen either of them. He was probably working out his next plot, she thought dryly.
To her surprise, she found she had misjudged him, for as they climbed into the car that was taking them to the airport, he commented dryly. `At least you can wear it,' and as he settled himself beside her in the car, he said, 'It's okay, I guess, but don't wear it in my father's presence—he'd have a fit. He's got old-fashioned ideas where women are concerned!'
Rebecca's brows lifted. He had almost given her a compliment, then spoiled it by bringing his father into it, but she had to admit the outfit was certainly not office wear.
By the time they had bought what magazines they wanted for the long journey, and had a cup of coffee in the V.I.P.s' lounge, Rebecca had forgotten all about her earlier wish to walk out on him, and if the subject had been brought up, she would have replied that she was looking forward to the trip. She would never get the chance again to see 'Down Under', at least not for free, and with the knowledge that she could come back when she wanted to, she would have been a fool to miss the opportunity. There was more to it than that, but she was not admitting it!
CHAPTER TEN
By the time the plane touched down in Sydney,... Rebecca never wanted to travel again, in spite of travelling first class, where the lounges were
spacious, and the ladies' room almost a lounge in itself. She had never travelled this far before, and was suffering from the well known malady of `jet-lag'.
To please Janus, in case his father should decide to meet them at the hotel, she had changed into a tweed suit with a matching coat in colours that echoed the Highland heather, and worn with a lilac jumper, looked more in keeping with Mr Leon's idea of women's dress.
Janus's approval was evident as she joined him for an aperitif in the lounge after freshening up, and trying to collect her bemused senses now they were back on terra firma.
`Guess he's got held up,' he commented, referring to his father. 'We'll give him ten minutes or so before we order, in case he's made arrangements for us to dine at his place. Are you hungry?' he asked Rebecca.
She shook her head. The journey had appeared to be a succession of food and little delicacies to break the monotony of the flight, and she could cheerfully have waited until breakfast for her next meal, she thought, as she sipped her drink that was supposed to give her an appetite, and if she was expected to sit down to a meal, she only hoped it worked.
When Janus had told her that he had booked her into the hotel for a day or so while he looked around for more permanent accommodation, she had at first felt a rush of relief. To be in his constant company had been of no help at all where her heart was concerned, and to see him only in a business capacity would have been far better for her. On the other hand, she had experienced some
disappointment, for she had felt certain that the house in the story he had written on her first acquaintance with him had in fact been his home. The picture he had drawn had seemed too real to I be a fictional object. It could, of course, have been a place he did know well, a friend's home perhaps, but Rebecca could not rid herself of the notion that it was more personal than that, but all the facts seemed to point away from such a deduction.
Janus's father was not a farmer who would own such a homestead, as Rebecca had subsequently found out from Janus's remarks on the flight out. He was, in fact, a very successful stockbroker, now a widower, and spending most of his time in a flat in the city which could accommodate Janus, but not Rebecca.
There had been a large establishment on the outskirts of Sydney where the family had lived for many years, but when Janus's mother had died, and Janus had chosen a writer's career that took him away for long periods at a spell, there had been talk of selling the property, and Mr Leon had moved into smaller premises nearer his work.
`Does he know where to find us?' Rebecca asked, as it had suddenly occurred to her that the hotel, was in the city and some way away from the airport.
Janus gave her a look that said 'Really!' then remarked casually, 'I rang up his office and left a message.'
Rebecca nodded; of course he would have done that. They had arrived two hours ago, and after unpacking a few things she had stretched out on the bed and lost count of time for an hour. Perhaps that was what was wrong with her, she thought,.
she had not got her bearings yet. `Jet-lag,' she murmured, almost apologetically.
Janus nodded complacently. 'You'll be fine tomorrow,' he said, then looking towards the entrance of the lounge, said, `Ah, here's my father,' and standing up went to meet the tall and unmistakable likeness of himself, whose brown hair now showed streaks of grey at the sides, and in a minute Rebecca was shaking hands with him.
Apart from the colour of the eyes, for Mr Leon's were brown and Janus's that startling blue, Rebecca knew she was looking at a replica of what Jan
us would look like in thirty years' time. If he had his father's courteous manner and quiet composure, then no more could be asked, she thought, but it appeared that he had inherited his artistic talent from his mother, who had had a penchant for writing poetry.
As soon as the subject of dinner was brought up, Mr Leon had promptly replied that they were having it at Rosings, and Rebecca presumed this to be a friend's home, since it did not sound like a block of flats.
`Do you mean to tell me you didn't sell after all?' Janus asked in surprise. 'I thought you said you'd put it on the market.'
Mr Leon looked a little abashed, as if caught out in some misdemeanour. 'Well,' he began, then smiled, 'I did put it on the market, and the first applicant wanted it. I guess I hadn't really got that far in my mind, and when it came to the crunch, I couldn't do it. I'd always hoped that one day he left the sentence unfinished, but it was plain
what he was referring to. Then he coughed. 'There was Lily and Frank to consider, too,' he added. `They're getting on a bit, and not old enough for retirement. Anyway, there it is. I was never really sure what you thought about my selling. I knew you used to be fond of the place,' he ended slowly.
If he had ever been in doubt on this score, Janus's face gave him the answer, and echoed the pleasure he felt at the news. 'That's great!' he smiled, and turned to Rebecca. 'Can you get packed up?' he asked. 'There's plenty of room at Rosings, and with Lily and Frank around, there's no worry about accommodation.'
Feeling as if she had never stepped off the plane, Rebecca went to her room to pack again, thanking providence she had not unpacked much and would be ready in no time at all.
With Janus at the wheel of the car, and Rebecca and Mr Leon in the back, Rebecca was aware of a few surreptitious glances from Mr Leon while she was taking in the scenery, as they headed for the outskirts of Sydney, and his, 'So you're a secretary,' took her by surprise, for she would have thought that Janus would have made this quite clear.
Before she could answer, Janus said in an amused voice, 'He thought you were the lead in the film.'
So that was why he was curious about her, Rebecca thought. He was probably worried that his son was becoming involved with an actress. It was a sad but true fact that these marriages rarely
lasted, particularly if the wife insisted on carrying on her career. She drew in a quick breath. Why should she presume he was thinking of anything to do with marriage?
The talk then turned to the forthcoming film, and Rebecca was pleased to hear Janus comment that he did not intend to supervise the whole show. He would see cuts every now and again, but was perfectly satisfied with the producer, and they had the best director, so he foresaw no hiccups.
By this time they had reached the suburbs, and now and again passed large houses, set in their own landscaped gardens, the upkeep of which, Rebecca thought, would cost a small fortune.
Another hundred yards or so and they turned into a tree-lined drive and just around the bend, hidden by bushes, lay the house.
It was small wonder that Mr Leon had considered selling it, Rebecca thought, for it was a large house that would have several more rooms than the usual home.
As the car drove along the drive, Rebecca, taking in the scenery, thought that if you did not know where you were, you could be forgiven for thinking that you were back in the U.K. The house was no different from many to be found in the higher price bracket at home, and the dark evergreen bushes that made up the borders lining the well kept lawns, that would shortly be ablaze with colour when the spring began, were no different from their counterparts all those miles away.
Soon the car was drawing up in front of the stone pillars of the entrance to the house, and Rebecca
found herself in a cool hallway tiled in mosaic style, that would give a refreshing welcome from the hot summer sun in the days to come. Ahead of her was a wide ornamental staircase that gave an impression of the size and elegance of the rooms it led to.
Mr Leon opened a door on the right of the hall and stood aside for her to precede him into the room, which was a large lounge comfortably furnished. 'Lily will be busy with the dinner,' he explained with a smile, as he walked over to a miniature bar at the end of the room. 'What do you fancy as an aperitif?' he asked her.
`Nothing, thanks,' Rebecca replied, taking the comfortable chair that Mr Leon had indicated. 'To tell you the truth, I'm not really hungry either,' she went on, wishing she could be taken to her room and just lie down.
Mr Leon gave her a sympathetic grin. 'It's a long way,' he said, 'but you'll get your bearings soon enough,' he added confidently, as he carried two glasses of what looked like whisky, and putting one on the table near an armchair, presumably for Janus, who had wandered off towards the end of the hall and into a door on the left, he settled himself in the next chair to Rebecca, and seeing her glance at the empty chair next to the drink, he added, 'Janus has gone to make his peace with Lily—she didn't hold with him forsaking the home front for foreign parts,' he chuckled. 'Not that he'll have any trouble, she'll be so glad to see him, she'll forget the rest.'
While they waited for Janus, Rebecca found herself undergoing a lighthearted questionnaire on
her past, how. she 'came to work for Janus, what she did before she became his secretary, what ties she had in England, asked with a genuine interest that took away the feeling that she was being vetted, although she knew she was, but she liked Janus's father, and if this was to be her work base, and where she would be in constant contact with the family, it was understandable that he should be asking these questions.
By the time Janus joined them they were on the subject of Cambridge, and as Mr Leon himself had studied there, there was a.. lot to talk about, had they not been interrupted by Janus's, 'Dinner's about to be served,' announcement, as he picked up his drink and took 'a sip, before leading the way to a door off the lounge, and stood waiting for Rebecca, who had hesitated in the hope of being let off and allowed to seek out her room; and though she was certain that he knew precisely, what ,was in her mind, she had no choice but to join him, and his amused, 'There's plenty of time to catch up on the time lag, and you're not expected to have a farmhand's appetite,' comment made her wish she could hit him as she sat down at the beautifully polished round table in the middle of the dining room.
To Rebecca's way of thinking the table, large as it was, seemed amply provided with food already. There were small dishes of seafood, wafer-thin slices of toasted bread and other small portions of delicacies' for starters, that Rebecca left strictly alone. She would, have enough trouble coping with the first course, and she wished Janus had let her
off the hook, and as she watched the men help themselves to the starters, Janus choosing a slice of toasted bread, with what looked like cream cheese on it, she took a sip of her white wine, glad to have something to do, and partake in some way.
A few minutes later an elderly woman carrying a tray and dressed in a dark green uniform with a crisp white apron, and followed by a man of about the same age, and whose face was so deeply tanned that it was obvious that he spent the greater part of his time in the open air, and was probably the gardener doubling as butler and handyman when necessary.
As they carried the trays to the table Rebecca, noting the dark blue suit of the man, had a suspicion that they had dressed up for her benefit, and knew a feeling of embarrassment, for she was sure both of them would have been more comfortable in what was their normal wear. She fervently hoped that this state of affairs did not last long, for their sake as well as hers.
`Meet Lily and Frank Abbott,' Janus said airily, `two true blues from Down Under whom we couldn't manage without,' he added with a grin, that was answered by a smile from the normally stern features of the woman, and by a much wider grin from her husband as they set the trays down on the side table and started to place plates of lobster salad in front of everyone, then gave their attention to Janus, although both looked at Rebecca. 'My secretary,' Janus supplied carelessly, adding, 'S
he doesn't eat enough, but I'll leave that to you, Lily,' and at Rebecca's indignant glance at him, tacked on, 'She'll be let off tonight, on the
grounds of tiredness.'
Rebecca thought this was an odd introduction. He had not given her name, but just said she was his secretary, but then she remembered his earlier call .to the kitchen quarters, during which he had probably told them her name. Not that it mattered, she thought dryly. She was his secretary and had no other pretensions.
Rebecca might, not mind this casual introduction, but Janus's father obviously did. 'Which room have you given Miss Lindsey?' he asked Lily, giving Janus a. reproving look, that was met with a slight raising of the brows by his son.
`The old guest room, the one with the sitting room,' Lily replied promptly, adding with a softening of her features as she turned to Rebecca, 'You'll be more comfortable there, miss. The study's on the same floor. All nice and handy, like,' she added.
Rebecca almost gave a sigh of relief. It was nice to know she would have a bolthole to retire to should Janus do any entertaining. 'Thank you,' she replied, her relief clearly showing in her voice, and producing an ironical gleam in Janus's eyes.
`Good!' said Mr Leon. 'Well, directly after dinner I suggest you take Miss Lindsey up so that she can get settled in.'
Rebecca threw a grateful look at Mr Leon. At least he knew how tired she was, she thought, and her thoughts showed as she met Janus's eyes.
Poor little Rebecca,' he said, in answer to that look. 'Not homesick already, are you?' he taunted sarcastically.
