Your father may pay me, Nora, but that doesn't give you the right to run my life.'
Which was entirely the wrong thing to say. Nora glared.at her, her face suffused with rage. She looked wildly round the room, then ran over to the dressing table, grabbing up a pair of scissors and opening the blades, holding them like a double-ended knife. Then she swung triumphantly round to Tressy. 'You filthy bitch! You shan't have him, you shan't!'
Her face ashen, Tressy backed away, holding out her hands to ward Nora off, although there was such a crazed look on the other girl's face that it would have been futile.
Nora laughed, her voice high and unnatural. 'Oh, yes, you're afraid of me now, aren't you, you bitch, with your red hair and your big eyes. But I'm not going to hurt you, because I know that that wouldn't bring Cris back to me. You're going to give him up. Because if you don't ... ' She raised her right hand holding the scissors high in the air and her voice rose to a shriek, 'I'll kill myself, and it'll be your fault. Because he's mine! He's mine. He's mine!' And on the word mine, she brought the scissors flashing down three times, slashing across her left wrist, the bright blood spurting out as she screamed the words. Then she stopped suddenly, dropping the scissors and staring at her wrist, the lack of sound somehow louder than her screams. Her face deathly white, she turned to Tressy and said, almost calmly. 'You see? You see I mean it?'
CHAPTER SEVEN
'OH God!' Somehow Tressy forced her legs to move and she ran into the bathroom and snatched up a clean towel, then wrapped it tightly round Nora's wrist.
Her cousin stood passively, as if all the wildness had drained out of her, but when Tressy led her to a chair and made her sit down, she shot out her good hand and caught hold of Tressy's arm. 'There are lots of ways to commit suicide, and I'll do it, I swear it, if you don't promise to give him up. I can't live without him. And you don't even love him. Do you? Do you?' she insisted.
Tressy was on her knees in front of her, holding the bloodstained towel tightly against Nora's wrist. Looking up at the other girl with horrified eyes, she had to say honestly, 'I-I don't know.'
'So you'll give him up?' Nora said feverishly. 'Promise me you'll give him up!'
There was blood on her own hands. Tressy looked down at it and then at the splashes round the room where Nora had swung her arm. 'Yes, all right,' she agreed tiredly.
'Say it!' Nora commanded, her fingers biting painfully into Tressy's arm.
'I promise I'll give him up. I'll go back to England tomorrow. Nora, you must let me send for an ambulance. '
But her cousin ignored her. 'No, you mustn't go back home; he might go after you. You've got to stay here and convince him that you're not interested in him any more.'
'Yes, all right, whatever you say.' Tressy was beginning to be afraid that she'd bleed to death. 'We must get an ambulance.'
'No, just send for that doctor Mummy had recommended to her.' Now that she had got her own way, Nora seemed to be fully in command of herself again, still deathly pale, but with a triumphant look in her dark-rimmed eyes.
The doctor came very quickly when he heard the fear in Tressy's voice, but fortunately the cuts weren't very deep and didn't even need stitches. Nora lied and told him she'd cut herself with the electric carving knife, which he didn't believe but was willing to accept for the fat fee that Nora paid him.
He had only been gone a few minutes when the doorbell rang again. It was a few minutes to ten. 'That will be Cris,' murmured Tressy. The two girls looked at each other. 'I'll-I'll go and tell him.'
'No. I'll see him. I don't trust you.' Nora looked at herself anxiously in the mirror and quickly added some blusher to give colour to her pale cheeks. Tressy had helped her to change out of her bloodstained dress and there was no sign, other than the dressing on her wrist, that anything had happened. She went over to the door and looked back. 'You can clean up this room; do what you're paid to do for a change,' she said insultingly.
Obediently Tressy bent to pick up the dress and towel, but then dropped them again and went over to the window, open wide to let in· any breeze there might be. Nora's room was at the front of the house, almost over the main door, and she heard her cousin quite clearly as she greeted Cris.
Her voice bright, Nora said, 'Hello, Crispin, how are you? Isn't it a lovely day again?'
'It is indeed. Is Tressy ready?' Cris's deep tones answered, the eagerness in his voice scarcely concealed.
'Oh, dear!' Nora gave an embarrassed laugh and Tressy's fists clenched as she could imagine the act her cousin was putting on. 'I'm afraid she won't be going with you today.'
'Why? Is she ill?' Cris asked sharply.
'Oh no, nothing like that. Actually, I'm the one who's in the wars. I scalded myself when I was helping to make breakfast this morning.'
'I'm sorry. I hope it isn't too serious?'
'No, but of course I won't be able to swim until it's better, which is rather a bore.'
'Yes. You were telling me about Tressy,' he prompted.
'Well, I was rather hoping not to.' Nora pretended to be sympathetic. 'I'm afraid she's gone out with someone else.'
'Someone else?' Cris's voice was incredulous. 'Who?'
'Some man she knew back in London. He phoned her yesterday and she contacted him after we got back last night. It seems he's over here on holiday and she went off to meet him this morning.'
'Didn't she leave any message for me?'
'I'm afraid not. Er-I'm sorry to say this of my own cousin, Crispin, but Tressy really isn't terribly reliable, you know. She quite often lets people down.' 'Really? She hadn't struck me that way. Are you quite sure of this?'
'Certainly I am.' Nora sounded offended. 'As a matter of fact, Tressy takes after her mother; she wasn't very good with men either.'
Up in the bedroom, Tressy clenched her fists; if Nora made one more remark about her mother she'd go down there, promise or no promise!
But Nora was saying. 'I do apologize if you've been inconvenienced, Crispin. I suppose your boat is all ready to go?' She left the unspoken suggestion hanging in the air.
Cris, though, ignored it. 'Did she say when she would be back?' he demanded abruptly.
'Oh, no. She'll come back when she feels like it, I suppose--if she comes back at all tonight. She seemed very keen to see this man.'
'I see,' Cris answered grimly.
There was silence for a few moments and then Nora said cajolingly, 'Crispin, I'm at a loose end myself today. Couldn't I come on your trip with you?'
'I know that Michel is going to phone you later to see if you'd care to go out with him.'
'But I don't want to go out with Michel. I-I'd much rather go with you. Please!' she added in a tone that gave away her feelings completely.
'Sorry, Nora.' Crispin didn't hesitate with his refusal. 'If Tressy can't make it today, then I have several business matters I can attend to. Tell Tressy I'll call her tomorrow, will you?'
'You still want to see her-after she's stood you up?' Nora asked in hurt and outrage.
'I'm quite sure she had a good reason for doing so and I'd like to hear it from her. Make sure she gets my message, won't you?' There was a distinct warning in his tone. 'Goodbye, Nora.'
'It's Leonora. My name's Leonora.'
But Cris's footsteps could be heard stepping briskly to his car.
Slowly Tressy moved away from the window and sat down in a: chair. It had been very hard to stand there in silence when she'd longed to lean out of the window and call, 'Here I am!' Only the memory of those brilliant splashes of blood from Nora's wrist had held her back. Because when it came to it, she found that she did care about not seeing Cris again-very much. She felt wretched and bitter and in that moment hated her cousin, unable to find any sympathy now for her unrequited feelings.
She was still sitting in the chair when Nora came back, her pace far slower now than it had been when she had run down to open the door. Nora looked round the room and started to say, 'Why haven't you .. .' but
then saw the look on Tressy's face and her voice died away.
'Congratulations,' Tressy said scathingly into the silence. 'I hadn't realised what a consummate liar you are. Where did you learn, I wonder? At your precious convent school you're always bragging about? Tell me, how did you think of what to tell him so quickly-or did you have it all worked out beforehand?'
Nora flushed. 'That isn't true! It was the obvious excuse to give.' She gathered herself up. 'And you're supposed to be cleaning this room up; you don't want my parents to see it, do you? I'll tell them it's your fault.'
'I'm quite sure you will.' Tressy stood up. 'I'm quite sure you're capable of lying your head off to get what you want. But I couldn't care less. And you can clean the room yourself.'
'But I can't; my wrist is hurting.'
'It wasn't hurting when you offered yourself on a plate to Cris, was it?' Tressy returned coolly, walking over to the door. 'Only it didn't do you any good, did it? He turned you down flat.'
Nora's face contorted and she looked as if she was going to either burst into tears or go wild again. 'Don't you dare speak to me like that! You know what will happen if you upset me; I'll kill myself.'
'I should be very careful, if I were you, Nora,'
Tressy told her, her voice icy. 'The way you're behaving I'm beginning not to care very much whether you live or die.' And she walked out of the room.
The villa suddenly seemed like a prison and she couldn't stand it any longer. The scooter was still in its hiding place, repaired and returned a couple of weeks ago, but she hadn't used it since. Now, she collected her things and drove it out on to the main road, much busier with traffic now that it was July and the French nation had started its mass exodus to the sea, most of them, Tressy thought, either using this road or parked on both sides of it. As soon as she could, she turned off the main road and just followed her nose, not much caring where she went, just wanting to get as far away from Nora as possible. After about an hour's ride, she came to a field entrance and parked the scooter behind a hedge, then walked to the edge of a small wood and sat in the shade of a tree, looking down a sloping meadow to a landscape of lush green fields with a small village in the valley and an old bridge over a river, and beyond high hills that rose steeply towards the cloudless blue sky.
She felt thoroughly fed up and miserable, thinking of what it would have been like to be with Cris today. She thought about him, wondering what he was doing and whether he would really phone tomorrow after the lies Nora had told him. But yes, if he'd said he'd phone then he would keep his word. Probably only to be met by another load of Nora's lies as she tried to discredit Tressy for ever in his eyes. Savagely she pulled at some pieces of grass. Wishing, wishing. But wishing never did anyone any good; she could hear her mother saying it now. Her mother, who had always taught her that her father had been in the wrong. Only maybe it hadn't been like that at all. Lying back, Tressy gazed up at the sky, remembering the way that Cris had looked at her and touched her that day they had gone to Menton and had those few precious hours alone together. All, it seemed now, that they were destined to have. Because for all she'd told Nora to get on with it, her cousin's irrational behaviour this morning had frightened Tressy to death. Shudders ran through her as she remembered, and she knew that there was no way she could ever take the risk of Nora doing it again, but in reality this time. She must be crazy about Cris if she could inflict such violence on herself in a desperate attempt to try and get him back. If she loved him that much, and if love drove her to that despair, then all Tressy could do was keep out of the way and let Nora try to catch him. God, it must be terrible to be in love, to feel as intensely as that! Tressy blinked at the sky and thought that her own feelings were pretty intense at the moment. But she was tough, she'd get over it, whereas Nora, who had always had everything she ever wanted ... Deliberately she pushed aside thoughts of what Nora would do if she didn't make any headway with Cris. And Tressy didn't think she would. Not now. No matter how much Nora blackened her name. All that would happen would be that they'd both lose him. If he was ever to be won. And that wasn't certain. Nothing was certain any more. Only the sky, the sun and trees. Stupid tears pricked her eyes and she angrily blinked them back, glad that she was tough, so very tough.
Nora hadn't gone out with Michel; when Tressy got back to the villa late that afternoon she was lying on the settee with Aunt Grace fussing over her because of her 'poor scalded arm', and Tressy immediately got a good telling off for leaving her and for not doing the washing up. It seemed Nora had piously told her mother she'd scalded herself boiling up a kettle to do the washing up herself. Tressy just looked at them and went into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich.
The next morning Nora hovered by the phone, making sure she picked it up when Cris called. She must have told him more lies, but this time Tressy didn't stay around to hear, instead taking the scooter into Monte Carlo. Taking care to keep away from the harbour area or any places where Cris might happen to be, Tressy wandered around the streets, window shopping. Thanks to Cris taking her out so much, she had spent very little of the wages Uncle Jack paid her and she felt like buying something to cheer herself up, but the clothes here were all so expensive compared to the shops in England that her native sense of thrift held her back. But there was one leather goods shop that had a sale on and in the window was a beautiful snakeskin handbag with a long gold-coloured chain. It cost six hundred francs, which worked out at over fifty pounds in English money. Tressy gazed at it enviously for quite a time and then walked on. She had never spent that much on a handbag and there were lots of more practical uses that she needed money for. But it was a gorgeous bag!
It was very hot that day, still arid close. Tressy spent the rest of it on the beach in Nice, sweltering in the heat. As she gazed up at the sky an aeroplane flew slowly down the length of the beach, towing a sign behind it asking holidaymakers to adopt an abandoned dog or cat. Tressy laughed mirthlessly; how about adopting an unwanted girl? She could use some tender, loving care right now. That made her think of her mother, and she wondered whether she had deliberately tricked her father into marrying her. And had it made her bitter when everything backfired on her and she was left with a child on her hands to bring up alone. Certainly her mother had never been a demonstrative woman; she had worked hard and done her best for Tressy, but more out of duty than love. So Tressy, in her turn, had no idea how to show love or even how to recognize it.
A French boy came over and started chatting her up. He was harmless, and she let him buy her a pizza. He was staying at a camp site near Vence and wanted her to go back there with him, but she told him she was working and had to get back, so he gave her his telephone number and they parted amicably enough. But it was strange, although he was nice, Tressy felt completely detached from him and couldn't have cared less whether he talked to her or not. He was of medium height and fair, but she had grown used to a tall dark man walking beside her, his arm casually across her shoulders, and now she felt incomplete when she walked alone. Tressy realised, with surprise, that she felt lonely, an emotion she had never experienced before because she was used to being on her own. She hadn't been close enough to anyone to miss them before; never once had she missed her mother on the few occasions she had been away from home for any length of time. But she was missing Cris now, and it was as unwelcome as it was unfamiliar.
Maybe it was just as well that Nora had brought things to an end between them, she told herself. It wouldn't have done to get too deeply involved with Cris. Holiday romances never lasted, everyone knew that. Emotions that burst into flame in the heat of the sun soon died in the chill of winter. And she and Cris had nothing in common-except a heady physical attraction that made her want to touch and be touched. And what was physical attraction but a passing thing? It didn't last. Nothing lasted. Nothing was for ever.
Michel was at the villa when she got back. Tressy recognised his Renault and was careful to go into the house by the kitchen door. She wasn't
particularly hungry but fixed herself a fresh orange juice to take up to her room, then left a note to say that she was in, knowing Aunt Grace would find it when she came to make her milk drink as she always did before going to bed. There was the sound of voices coming from the drawing-room, but Tressy wasn't quite sure whether it was the television or not. As she made her way up the stairs, the door to the drawing-room opened and Michel came out into the large hall, followed by Nora. Tressy quickened her footsteps, hoping to reach the flight to the next floor before he saw her. But he looked up and called her name.
Glancing down, she said, 'Oh, hi, Michel,' and went quickly on her way.
'Wait!' Michel came bounding up the stairs after her. 'I must speak to you.'
'Some other time, huh? I'm tired right now.' She tried to move on, but he caught her arm.
'Cris is worried about you,' he said as Nora came up behind him to listen, her eyes giving warning messages.
'Is he?' Tressy answered inadequately, unable to think what to say.
The Wings of Love Page 14
