Bond of Fate

by Jane Corrie

  As she tried to regain some sort of composure, realising that they were in view of some of the guests, she had the sense to work out that this was probably his way of settling all doubts as to their relationship as far as the others were concerned, but she also recalled his promise that she had nothing to fear from him, and felt very angry at his breaking what was for her a very important rule. She knew that she could do nothing about it then and there, but she meant to say plenty when they got back to their suite!

  At this point, however, a woman's husky voice intervened in her indignant musings. 'Darling ! How

  wonderful! I didn't know you were here.'

  Melanie felt herself released and found her eyes meeting a pair of dark eyes, incredibly like Celia's, but there the resemblance ended, for this woman was a very lovely brunette, whose white ball gown provided the perfect setting for her dark beauty.

  `Didn't you?' Julian's voice held a definite touch of irony as he surveyed the woman. 'Melanie, this is Zara

  `His ex, dear,' Zara Cridell said in an attempt at levity that didn't quite come off, for her dark eyes were staring hungrily at Julian, and then rested speculatively on Melanie. 'Not quite what I would have said was your style, darling,' she murmured, looking back at Julian, then to Melanie, 'We must get to know one another, we've apparently a lot in common.'

  `I wouldn't advise taking that tack if I were you,' Julian said softly, yet somehow menacingly. 'I trust you're not staying long?'

  Zara gave a trill of amused laughter, and Melanie thought she must be a wonderful actress, though she hadn't been able to keep her true feelings out of her eyes. 'I'm not really sure, darling,' she said sweetly. `I've got a few weeks off from filming, but there's always a chance that they'll want a reshoot of a scene, and I shall have to go back. I do hope I can see something of my daughter while I'm here,' she added meaningly.

  `That,' Julian said harshly, 'is up to Celia. You didn't exactly endear yourself to her the last time you put in an appearance,' he added in a low voice.

  This time, Zara Cridell's training left her, and her eyes flashed in temper. 'And whose fault was that?' she demanded. 'I only want what's best for all of us.'

  Julian caught hold of Melanie's hand in preparation

  to enter the ballroom. 'You know the answer to that one,' he said coldly, and before any more could be said, he all but dragged the totally bemused Melanie back to their host, and, making apologies for their departure which were accepted by a knowing nod from Andrew Misting, they left, with Julian still holding on to Melanie's hand as if to ensure that she stayed right with him.

  Only when they had entered the lift did he release her, and then stood in dark contemplation, his eyes on the thick carpet at their feet. 'Blast the woman!' he said explosively, and then turned his wrath on to Melanie. 'Keep out of her way, do you understand?' he barked at her. 'And see that Celia's not pestered by her either. You'll have to arrange to go out for a day somewhere tomorrow, a day trip or something.'

  They left the lift and walked the few yards to their suite in the hotel's quiet late-night atmosphere. 'I can't get out of my business appointments today. I could have done, if I'd had any notice of her arrival; however, if she does intend to hang around, I shall make arrangements to be on hand,' he concluded, as they entered their suite.

  During all this time, Melanie hadn't uttered a word, and perhaps it was her silence that annoyed him, for before she had a chance to go to her room, he said pithily, 'And the next time you're expected to put on a show of affection, I sincerely hope you succeed better than you did tonight. You couldn't have looked more horrified if I'd been trying to ravish you!' and on these stinging words, he flung off to his room, leaving Melanie staring after him in amazement.

  How was she to know that he had spotted his ex-wife coming towards them, and decided to put on a show for her benefit? She wondered indignantly as she

  prepared for bed. For goodness' sake! What other reaction had he expected from her? There had been no mention of sudden embraces in their contract. Indeed, homeless or not, Melanie would never have countenanced such an agreement. There was a limit to what she was prepared to do, and Mr Julian Cridell had just reached it!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MELANIE was still seething when she slipped into bed. Her indignation flared as she recalled Julian's sarcastic remarks on her failure to respond to his embrace. Just who did he think he was? Had the fact that women fell over themselves to gain his attention gone to his head? Really, she thought angrily, he should have married another actress capable of carrying out all that was required of her!

  She thought of the way that he had stalked off, leaving his ex-wife to make what must have been an embarrassing re-entry into the ballroom, for in spite of the music, dancing and general chatter, Melanie was certain that from the moment that Zara Tobin, as she was known by millions from the big screen, had entered the ballroom, her every move had been sharply monitored by the rest of the guests.

  She lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes. Well, she had now met Julian Cridell's ex-wife, and she had to admit that Celia had been right when she had said her mother was still in love with her father, and was using her as a counter in the game to gain her objective.

  Melanie sighed. She could see nothing but trouble ahead. It was all very well for Julian to tell her to keep out of Zara's way, but she was staying at the same hotel, and was apparently determined to seek her daughter out.

  All she could hope for, thought Melanie sleepily, was that she would be recalled for a reshooting of a

  scene of the film she was making, or, failing that, that Julian decided to take off himself, perhaps back to England.

  The following morning, Melanie found that she didn't have to bother to look for day tours of the island to take Celia and herself out of Zara's vicinity, for Julian had already made the arrangements for her, and they were to start out at nine o'clock—early enough, Melanie surmised, to be well out of the hotel precincts when Celia's mother chose to put in an appearance at the breakfast table. If she took breakfast, that was, for remembering that dark beauty's sylph-like proportions, Melanie guessed it was probable that she had to watch her figure to stay that way.

  Celia, of course, had to be told of her mother's arrival.

  `Well, if that isn't just like her! You bet she knew Dad was here. Did she make an awful scene?' she asked Melanie indignantly later, when her father had gone to his meeting.

  `No,' Melanie replied, purposely avoiding telling her of her father's astounding reaction on sight of his ex-wife. 'She just said hello, and I was introduced to her, and then we left the party.'

  `Before she could get her claws into you,' said Celia, nodding sagely. 'I didn't think Dad would hang around after that.'

  Celia was all for the day out, and Melanie couldn't make out whether it was a wish to avoid meeting her mother herself, or simply to save Melanie any embarrassment, for she seemed to be of the opinion that Melanie needed protection.

  The tour, like everything else on this island, was carried out in grand style; even what Melanie had

  presumed would be a coach turned out to be a Rolls-Royce complete with chauffeur for just the two of them, plus a picnic hamper in the boot.

  As the island wasn't a large one, the morning was spent in various out-of-the-way coves, watching the native fishermen repairing their nets, and then they settled down for lunch on a bluff overlooking a beautiful bay that reflected bright blue and lilac tones as the sun played on the water. The lilac mauve tints denoted where the coral reefs lay, and though Melanie couldn't swim, she thought how wonderful it would be if she could catch a glimpse of that undersea wonderland.

  There was no such thing as taking their picnic as ordinary people did, with their tablecloths spread out on the ground around them; this picnic was carried out in keeping with their mode of transport, with the chauffeur now acting as waiter, setting up a small table and chairs which had been packed away in the copious boot of the car. After seeing to t
heir wants, he discreetly withdrew to see to his own meal somewhere near the car, and as Melanie sipped the deliciously cool wine kept in an iced flask, and tucked into cold chicken salad, she hoped the chauffeur was just as well provided for.

  Melanie's complexion soon turned a warm peach colour with the sun and the cool breezes coming off the ocean caressing her as she lazed beside Celia on that bluff, and time slipped away on the whispered breezes; for a while her troubles left her.

  They had tea further up the coast, with yet another picnic basket being unloaded. Julian, it appeared, was making sure that they did not return to the hotel until his business was concluded and he would be free to keep a watching brief on his ex-wife's activities.

  `Well, if it's done nothing else, it's made Dad ease up on the business front,' commented Celia, as they settled down to enjoy their tea. 'He's probably arranging all sorts of excursions for us, and it will be nice to have him around,' she added pensively.

  Melanie looked at her. Celia's complexion, like her father's had turned a deep honey colour practically overnight. She thought she caught a wistful note in her words, but said nothing. Celia would hate her, or anyone come to that, to feel sorry for her, but it couldn't have been easy for her for all those years, denied as she had been a normal upbringing, and with a father, fond as he was of her, absolutely wedded to his work.

  She was about to take a second sandwich when it occurred to her that she hadn't really liked the first one. She had thought it was crab, but it must have been some kind of pâté; whatever it was, it wasn't to her liking.

  Seeing her frown at the plate, Celia, who had settled for a large red apple, asked, 'Anything wrong?'

  Melanie pushed the plate of sandwiches away and poured herself some coffee. 'It's some kind of pâté, I think,' she replied. didn't like it.'

  Celia leant over and inspected the sandwiches, pushing one open with an exploratory finger. 'It's crab,' she said. 'I thought you liked crab?'

  `I do,' replied Melanie. 'Perhaps they've added something to it. Anyway, it didn't taste right, and I shouldn't have any if I were you,' she advised Celia.

  `This will do for me,' Celia replied, contentedly munching her large rosy apple. 'Oh, look, Melanie,' she pointed out to the bay, 'that's the opposition of those canoeists we were talking to yesterday, and they're getting in some crafty practice by the look of

  things,' she added with a grin.

  They arrived back at the hotel just as dusk was beginning to fall, and one hour before dinner would be served. Melanie had begun to feel queasy as the hotel lights came into sight, although she couldn't be sure if it was a case of nerves on her part, for she wasn't looking forward to another confrontation with Zara, and dinner was an occasion that she would be certain to attend.

  Nerves or not, by the time she had changed into her evening wear, Melanie knew she couldn't go down to dinner. It was all she had been able to do to stay and talk to Julian on their arrival back at the hotel when he had enquired if they had enjoyed their day out, and Celia had satisfied him on this count, before declaring herself tired out, and ready for bed. 'All that sea air and sunshine,' she had remarked with a yawn, and added that Podge would have to find someone else to keep her company in the teenage social club that evening.

  Melanie left them to it and made straight for her room, obstinately refusing to give in to what she was sure was only nerves, made an effort to dress for dinner, and, having accomplished this task, found that that was as far as she was going to get. She stood in the middle of the room and closed her eyes, while she waited for the dizzy spell that had suddenly overtaken her to pass over.

  She felt awful. She had been sick once, but felt that any moment now she would have to make another rush to the bathroom. Luckily Celia, true to her word, was out to the world.

  When she emerged white and shaken from another spell of retching, she went to find Julian, who sat waiting to take her down to dinner, dressed immacu-

  lately in his white tuxedo, and told him she couldn't possibly go down to dinner.

  That much should have been obvious, she thought afterwards, as she staggered back to her room. He had not looked over-sympathetic, and seemed to think she had no right to go down with anything at this particular time, but he did say that he would get the hotel doctor to have a look at her, and that it was probably a touch of the sun; she had obviously not, he had said irritably, taken precautions about protecting herself.

  It was small wonder that he was put out, Melanie thought wretchedly as she crawled into bed, and really she couldn't have chosen a worse time to go down sick. It meant that he would have to sit alone at their table, and from what she had seen of Zara Tobin, there was no doubt that she would seize the opportunity of occupying the vacant chair.

  Not long afterwards, there was a discreet tap on her bedroom door, and a short, rotund, merry-looking man entered her room carrying a case; he introduced himself as the hotel doctor and asked her what the trouble was.

  Melanie gave her symptoms, believing Julian's diagnosis had been the correct one, and the nice doctor said it could be that, or something she had eaten, and gave her medicine to quell the queasiness in her stomach which acted as a sedative, too. Within ten minutes of his leaving, Melanie was asleep.

  The next morning she woke with a heavy, heady feeling after her drug-induced sleep. She still felt far from well, and to her annoyance found that she was still on the queasy side. She had some tablets that the doctor had left her, but if they had the same effect on her as they had had the previous evening, then the

  only thing was to stay put.

  When Celia saw her, she endorsed this thought. 'It must have been those sandwiches, Melanie!' she exclaimed. 'You said they tasted funny, didn't you? It must have been the heat that sent them off. Thank goodness you only had one of them! You stay put; don't worry, I'll tell Dad you're not so good.'

  `You'll go out, won't you?' Melanie asked anxiously, not wanting to get herself any more black marks from Julian. He hadn't been too pleased last night when he had had to go down to dinner alone, and if they had to hang around the hotel all day because of her, he would be even less pleased.

  `Are you sure you'll be okay?' Celia queried. 'I expect Dad has some plan to entertain us.'

  After Melanie assured her that she would be fine, and that she would be taking one of the tablets that the doctor had left her, Celia went to find her father to give him the news.

  To Melanie's intense embarrassment, Julian called in to see her shortly after Celia's departure, and stood for a moment surveying her before he asked how she was, giving her the nasty suspicion that he hadn't believed Celia's news that she wasn't well, and that he thought it was just a ploy to keep out of his way, which was not at all surprising when one considered what had happened the last time she had spent the evening with him.

  Melanie felt almost certain that those were his thoughts on the matter. In other words, she was ducking out from under. Well, it was true that she herself had at first suspected that it was nerves that were causing the queasiness, for she had certainly not looked forward to the evening, and even less to what might ensue should he re-enact the part of besotted

  lover for his ex-wife's benefit!

  The very idea made Melanie's stomach start to churn again, and although Julian had said something about having a light breakfast tray sent up to her before he had left, she very much doubted her ability to swallow anything at all, except perhaps a cup of tea.

  After a brief visit to the bathroom, she returned to the bedroom, determined now to take a tablet. It would be better to feel doped than to have to put up with this inconvenience, she told herself, and when she heard a tap on her door, she thought it must be the breakfast tray and the welcome cup of tea. She was disappointed on hearing a woman's voice call out before the door was opened, 'It's only me. I heard you weren't too well, and wondered if there was anything that I could do for you?'

  Lydia Hounslow Holmes lowered her great bulk down on the bedsid
e chair and stared sympathetically at Melanie's white features. 'No,' she said, summing up her findings. 'You're not too good, are you?'

  `It was something that I ate, Mrs Hounslow Holmes,' said Melanie, wishing the woman would take her leave, for she didn't think it was kindness that had made her make the call on her. A notorious old gossip, she must have been disappointed at their absence the previous day when, no doubt, all the guests were agog to watch what they thought was going to be a very entertaining sideshow put on courtesy of the ex-Mrs Cridell ; Mrs Hounslow Holmes liked to be the first with the news.

  `I'm not up to entertaining, I'm afraid,' said Melanie meaningly, hoping her unwelcome visitor would take the hint and go.

  `Of course you're not,' soothed the old woman, `so if there's nothing I can do for you, I'll leave you in peace.

  Did the doctor leave you something?' she asked.

  Melanie felt relief flow from her as she watched the woman heave herself off the chair, which also gave a whisper of relief as its springs were freed from their load. `Oh, yes,' she replied quickly. 'I'm taking a tablet with my tea. I won't be able to keep anything down otherwise,' she added, managing to give a weak smile.

  `I don't believe in these new-fangled ideas,' Mrs Hounslow Holmes snorted. 'It was taken for granted in my day.'

  When the door had closed behind her and the rattle of the numerous bangles the old woman still wore in spite of the early hour of the morning had dwindled away, Melanie wondered if she actually slept with her fortune on her person. She wouldn't have been at all surprised to hear that she did. And what on earth had she meant by that odd remark of hers that she didn't believe in new-fangled ideas? However, the arrival of her breakfast tray at that point put all this out of her mind.